|The Collecters - Horror (standard:horror, 3893 words)|
|Author: hvysmker||Added: Jun 15 2004||Views/Reads: 2732/1891||Story 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 Click here to read the rest of this story (381 more lines)
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