Rag Doll/bdsm

Chapter 2 Monster Bob visits

Several days later, after all of my cuts had been cleaned and bandaged I found myself back in the same dream again. All I had to do was close my eyes and bingo I was back in that horror of a nightmare.

"Oh goody," I sighed just as soon as I realized I was once again in dreamland.

The day was black, lit only with dim street lights. Along the broken ground and cracked sidewalks were rows and rows of flat topped trees. I knew I was in for trouble. I was in the city where the zombies and prison guards liked to dwell.

"Damn!" I looked around for a darker place perhaps to hide.

The broken and or breaking street lights glared down at me from frightening angles. Some flashed on and off while others paused and still others simply didn't work at all. It was night, of course, gloomy, with a few rain drops,and scary as hell. Why would it be any other way?

I looked down at my body hoping I wasn't wearing that paper thin nightgown thing again.

"Thank you God," I whispered, when I identified the green and black patterns of an army uniform pasted to my body. The bright yellow of my shoes caused me to frown. 'Sponge Bob' slippers! I had Sponge Bob slippers on my feet instead of shoes. His big bright eyes seemed to smile up at me.

"Of course," I rolled my eyes, "I'm not allowed to have on "SHOES! Am I?" I was happy that they were at least not socks.

I always ended up with stupid things on my feet like socks with toes in weird striped colors or thongs that easily slipped off and got lost or broken. But these, 'Sponge Bob slippers', were just the final insult. How can you smile in a world where there is nothing to smile about I wondered. Still I decided to leave them on. I had them for a reason, I normally did. Why miss around with fate.

"Pockets," my hands wandered to my sides, gently pressing against the outside of my pants along the pockets. One time I put my hand in and came out with a huge spider. I learned quickly not to put my hands into dark places. They appeared to be flat at the moment, but this could change.

I looked across the street where I saw a few old buildings. These buildings appeared dark and were falling apart. It was difficult to make out just what they use to be in the darkness. Yet they screamed at me to come across and enter. I wasn't that stupid.

I knew that this part of town belonged to zombies, and prison guards. At any moment one group of them would come out onto the street to capture me or kill me. All I had to do was wait...

This was also Monster Bob's city. He lived to rescue me from the ghouls of the night. I often wondered if he knew he was one himself. The first time I met him was here, in the city, I had been standing on the other street corner near the all night drive-thru. It appeared to be the hang-out for every monster, ghoul, and prison guard that lived in this wasteland. When they spotted me they came for me with picks, knifes, chains and handcuffs. I had no chance of escape. Then he suddenly appeared on his motorbike, grabbed me from behind and stuffed me on the seat in front of him.

Damn, I sighed, he was built sexy. I remembered feeling his cock pressing into my back when I was a teenager. What I didn't know was what he really looked like under his helmet. All I ever saw was long strands of orangey hair poking out every so often from the sides. He never removed that helmet. So, I never truly knew if he was one of them. Tonight maybe I'd find out. Perhaps he'd show up tonight to protect me as he'd done when I was a child, a teenager, and now as an adult. Perhaps he'd tell me why I was having these dreams again.

In the far distance, almost on cue, I heard the roar of his bike. He knows I'm in the city, I realized, and he's coming to rescue me. I couldn't help but wonder from what. I looked around expecting to see something. I wasn't disappointed for long.

"Here they come," I said to myself as I saw movement in the buildings across the street near one of the busted out, paint peeling, dilapidated windows. They see me and now they will come to get me.

I turned away from the building having already made up my mind that I wasn't going to go anywhere near those buildings. I wasn't going to look for trouble. I never had to look for trouble in the past it always found me anyway.

"I'm getting to old to play this game." I almost yelled, but whispered it instead. I carefully dusted off the curb and sat down. Why go anywhere? Just let the trouble find me I decided.

It wasn't long before the zombies started piling out of the buildings. Each resembled the shadow of a person. Someone long dead but now alive again in my nightmares. Some of their faces seemed familiar to me while others were complete strangers. The one thing they all had in common was me. All of them desired me in some way.

As they approached I noticed that today each of the walking dead carried something to kill me with. I saw axes, clubs, knifes and various mallets. Because some of these items were heavy I noticed that they were either being drug behind the creature or the weight was being shared. The gross part of this was when the weapon's weight over powered them parts of their bodies fell apart. Still, if they could move they kept coming anyway. No matter, I was the object of their affection. It was too bad I wasn't impressed at what they'd go through just to get at me in some way.

I got up, brushed my pants off, checked my Sponge Bob slippers just to make sure they wouldn't fall off or trip me up and got ready to run.

I began by backing up toward the prison. It was located just behind me in a shabby building with falling down gates and pieces of fence lines. Not really the place I wanted to be. Perhaps I'd have done better by placing myself in the other direction. This being an after thought wasn't very helpful. I'd already made my decision about the direction I was going.

The concrete sidewalk had missing pieces throughout. Chunks of it had been stacked against the prison in half hazard positions along the walkway. Parts of the prison walls were bashed in. But it was far too dark for me to see any of the interior. All the windows were busted. Glass was scattered everywhere. So watching where I walked was important.

In one of the broken windows I saw a guard's blonde head pop out. His smile reminded me of the wolf in the fairy tale, 'Red Riding Hood." I knew just from that one glance what he was hungry for. I was in deep trouble.

"Oh goody its show time," I sang. Once again trying to give myself some confidence.

I started backing my way down the street, trying to avoid the broken glass and other items that might get caught in my slippers and cut my feet. This was why I was wearing slippers and not shoes.

As I moved along I realized that the streets were filling up with zombies and husky, sexy, big muscled prison guards. Each of the guards carried long chains. At the end of these chains handcuffs, collars, or ropes had been attached. I realized all were nasty forms of entrapment. They planned to capture me, not kill me. I figured I should be happy about that, but I wasn't.

I tried to look down the street just to see how far away Monster Bob was. I sure wanted rescued and now would be a good time for that to happen. The prison guards were almost upon me. Their sneers of delighted pursuit was rather frightening. Each looked like they wanted me for their own private party, and they'd fight each other to have it.

I wished I had something in my pocket. I tapped them again. Still they remained completely empty. I stepped on a broken stone and fell toward an empty building where I pressed my back against the brick wall. I kept walking. The yellowish paint they'd coated it with was ugly. Still I was happy to have something to support me. I wasn't feeling so good.

My breath started coming in gasps. This surprised me. I was scared. Where was Monster Bob? The roar of his motorbike suggested that he wasn't far away. Yet, he wasn't here yet when I needed him the most.

One of the guards, with stringy golden hair, approached me. He had to be the one I'd seen from the window upstairs. He swung his chain before me like a prize. At the end I saw the handcuffs. These were specialty designed handcuffs. They had sharp piercing blades attached to them which could cause many levels of pain. They had not been designed to remove body parts. All they did was make little cuts in your hands and wrists so that it stung. I'd often seen them used for torture.

I started backing up along the wall. I didn't know where I was going to go and I wasn't sure if I could escape. But I didn't' want to experience those blades again. I had memories of them, and the memories were not pleasant...

"If you move around they will hurt more, pumpkin, if you stand still I will lick you and they will bring you so much pleasure." The voice from my memory promised me.

"Please," I whimpered as the blades slipped deeper in my wrists and more blood squirted out.

"The sensation of pain mixed with pleasure will seduce you." The voice had promised. I blinked my eyes to clear my vision. Something moved. I felt my world fading...

Buildings, grass, trees slipped by me quickly as my eyes opened.. I took a deep breathe. Where was I? I felt a body behind me and an arm wrapped around my waist. A large cock was pushed in my back, now I knew where I was.

I was speeding down the road on Monster Bob's motorcycle. The sound, the smell and the speed of it was a joy to me.

Monster Bob's fingers toyed with my belly. They went upwards and then they want downwards, just stopping short of my breasts and my hairline. Was he was stroking me as one might a child who had a bad dream? I wondered.

Was he was trying to give me comfort? Was this was something new. He'd never done that before. What had changed? Was he trying to wake me up?

We were sailing down the street like Peter Pan and Wendy. I figured Captain Hook couldn't be to far away. Where were we going?

Quickly the city streets flew by and were replaced by the decaying countryside. The night grew darker and darker; the tiny light from the motorbike barely lit the way. That's when I saw it, the cemetery. The words RUN, engraved on the first headstone rudely smacked me in the face.

Why had he returned me to this place?