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The Collecters - Horror (standard:horror, 3893 words)
Author: hvysmkerAdded: Jun 15 2004Views/Reads: 2732/1891Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A family has a rather unique business selling girls.
 



“See Tom, the one on the right.  Think she'll do?”  My wife Tammy asked,
pointing to two girls, around ten years old, standing and talking near 
the school building. 

“Looks good, maybe even both of them, but we'll need Tiny to get them
both.”  I answered. 

“We can get them later, no hurry, they always walk home together.  I've
watched them the last three days.  They live two houses away from each 
other.” 

“Fine, then we can get out of this hick town.  With the four we have
now, we'll be done for this year.” 

We would stop for something to eat, before going back to our rented home
to make plans.  In a few more days we could pack up the van and leave.  
It would be good to get home early for a change, these trips took a lot 
out of me. 

We travel all over the country, picking up young girls to sell.  Our
buyer, Mr. Johnson, wants  healthy, good looking, young ones.  Young 
enough to train.  I don't know exactly where he sells them.  Probably 
into some kind of slavery, but that's not our concern.  We just snatch 
them and deliver the girls to him, at ten thousand a pop. 

A good enough living that gives us an income of a half million a year,
without taxes.  A few more good years and we could retire. 

The two of us stopped at a family restaurant and had a nice meal, then
stopped at several fast food places, ordering four sandwiches and fries 
at each. 

Pulling into the driveway of our rented home, we drove into the attached
garage and parked the van.  It was an industrial type vehicle, like a 
small bread truck, without windows in the rear or extra seats.  The 
heavy duty extended kind, it barely fit into the garage with the door 
closed. 

In case they were needed, we also had several sets of valid licence
plates from different States, and plastic sheets of business logos we 
could slap, magnetically, onto the side panels.  Even a portable 
chemical toilet bolted in the back, along with many eye-bolts welded to 
the floor and metal struts on the sides.  A translucent sliding 
partition was fitted just behind the front seats. 

I carried the food inside, after my wife unlocked the door leading into
the house.  We found our twenty-year-old son Junior watching television 
in the living room.  He hurried out to get his four large hamburgers 
and fries. 

Junior was larger than me by half.  A large young man weighing over two
hundred pounds to my one sixty.  He was the muscle of our little team. 

“I told you no onions, Pa.”  As he scrapped them off a hamburger. 
Junior wasn't very bright.  It must have been Tammy's side of the 
family.  His size was also from her genes, not mine.  My family tree 
was known for their small stature and above average intelligence. 

“Sorry, I forgot again.”  I picked up the rest and headed for the
basement stairs. 

The four girls were in place, chained by one wrist to various water
pipes around the room.  All were naked.  We had long ago found that it 
both made them easier to control, and helped prevent  escape.  Many of 
them would hesitate to run off without clothing. 

They were silent, having been repeatedly beaten for talking in our
presence.  Each one had a bucket to crap in and a roll of paper near 
them.  Also a thin mattress and a bottle of water, if they got thirsty. 


I did notice that Junior had been playing with them while we were gone. 
A couple of his sex toys were thrown around the basement, one of the 
girls had the start of a black eye.  I didn't care, as long as he 
didn't damage them.  If they got pregnant after we sold them it didn't 


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