by Paul Blades
The man removed a picture from his pocket and examined it beside Maddy's face. It was the same girl all right. One more thing to check. Still looking the girl in the face, the uniformed man slid his hand down Maddy's tummy to the lips of her sex. As he seized them, Maddy let out a small cry. She felt him rub the lips gently, tickling the button at their joining. Maddy grimaced. It was yet another insult to her flesh. She couldn't avoid the man's gaze while fondled her, and she couldn't prevent the tingling that began in her loins or the lubrication of her wide open slit. Tears slowly crept down her face as she swayed slightly in her chins. She dared a minor imprecation, "Please," was all she said, her voice low, almost a whisper.
"Shut up, cunt," the man said.
Maddy shut her eyes and her mouth. It was useless to plead with these people. They had her fate in their hands and she was powerless.
The effects of the manipulation of her pussy soon had its intended effect on the girl. She tried to stretch her legs, standing on her tip toes, to assuage the slowly building sensations. Involuntarily, her hips began to rock. Her chest was blotched with redness, the nipples of her swaying breasts hardened. She could neither avoid the man's stimulation of her sex nor speed it. Either one would have been preferable to the slow, inexorable build up of her passions. She opened her eyes to see the man still staring at her face. Herman and Louise were watching, like trainers monitoring the performance of a dog they were selling. Maddy couldn't restrain herself any more. She raised and lowered her hips in strange mimic of fucking. She was breathing deeply, tiny cries escaping from her lips.
Maddy was grateful when her explosion of lust overcame her. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" she cried. Her juices flooded the hand tormenting her. Her whole body shook with pleasure. For only a moment, Maddy forgot where she was, what was happening to her. She uttered a long, deep, moaning sigh.
When she recovered, the man was still looking into her face, but now he was smiling. "That's a good girl," he said. Maddy was mortified and humiliated. A wave of disconsolation passed through her. She was going to be this man's prisoner. What I have ever done to deserve this, she thought miserably.
The man brought his sticky hand to Maddy's lips. "Clean it!" he ordered.
Maddy looked over at Hermann who had the wand. She looked at the man in front of her. What choice did she have? She licked her own discharge off the man's hand. When she had finished to his satisfaction, the man stepped back. "She'll do fine," he said. He nodded to Herman and moved on to the next girl. Herman stepped forward, reinserted the ball in her unhappy mouth and drew the hood back over her head.
Maddy heard the man's callous comments about Peggy Ann, who was next to her. "Small tits," he said. "A little heavy in the hips. Nice ass though. Let's see her face."
The man approved of Peggy Ann's facial appearance then put her through the same sexual exercise as Maddy. Maddy heard the girl's squeals and whines as she was driven to orgasm. Peggy Ann was a screamer and she called out loudly as she came. "Oh God! Oh God! Oh! Oh! Oh!" She, too, was ordered to lick her pungent cum off the man's hand. The man made a sound of approval.
The man was not quite so sanguine when he came to examine the blond girl. "She's skinny," he said with disdain.
"She'll fill out," Herman answered. "She's been in the hole for two weeks," he lied.
"I don't think so," the man answered. "Let's see her face."
Louise cooperatively removed the hood and the ball. As soon as her gag was removed the girl began to beg and plead.
"Oh, please let me go, please. I want to go, please, please let me go!"
Maddy heard a resounding Crack as the man evidently slapped her in the face. "Shut the fuck up!" he yelled. But that didn't stop the girl.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" she cried. "Oh, God, don't hit me please. I want to go home. Please let me go!"
"Gimme that thing," the man growled to Herman. Herman handed him the wand. 'Zap!' The man shocked her loins.
"Eeeeeeeeeeee!" the young girl screeched.
Zap! Another scream. Zap! Another scream.
The wand was placed in the girl's cunt one more time.
"Oh, no, I'll be good, I'll be good! Please don't hurt me anymore, Please!"
The man spoke to her sternly, "Then shut the fuck up, got it!"
"Oh, yes, yes! I'll be quiet."
"Shut the fuck up!" the man roared.
Finally, the little blond girl was silent. Maddy could hear her sniffling and a low whine.
"Where the fuck did you get her?" the man asked.
"She was a waitress at a diner. She's over eighteen. She's pretty. I'll bet she fucks like there was no tomorrow," Herman replied.
"Yeah? Did you fuck her?" the man asked.
"No way," Herman replied. "Honest."
The man took another long look at the girl. "Well, I know a guy, maybe, okay."
"Don't you want to make her come?" Herman asked.
"She won't do too much fuckin' where I'm sending her," the man explained. "Not for long, anyway."
"Let's go in the house and work out the details," Herman said.
"Okay," the man answered. He and Herman departed.
The young guy had watched quietly while his boss appraised the merchandise. He watched as Louise regagged and hooded the blond girl, then turned and, leaving the barn, went to the truck. He dug behind a couple of rows of boxes of uniform pants and took out a specially marked box from the van. He manhandled it back into the barn and placed it on the floor. Opening it, he removed three wide belts. He took the first to Maddy and, circling her waist with it, locked it into position. Its hasp closed easily but was removable only with a key. He placed a similar belt on the two other naked women. He looked over at Louise.
"Can you unhook them for me?" he asked.
"Sure can," Louise said. "Which one first?"
"The screamer, I guess." The bulky youth answered.
Louise stepped over and released the lock that held the blond girl's yoke together. The girl stumbled due to the spreader bar and her blindness, but her neck and hands were freed. Louise held her up. The heavy man removed two bracelets from the box and installed them on the blond girl's wrists. He then hooked the wrists to the side of the belt, and pulled it taut, just above the girl's hips. It could be slid down, with some difficulty. The next accessory was meant to prevent that. A jumble of leather straps was removed from the box. He took it over to the whining girl and dropped it on the floor in front of her, and turned to Louise. "The collar?"
"Yeah, I'll get it off," she answered. She took a key from a ring she kept in her dress pocket and removed the narrow collar. She put the collar on a hook on the wall of the barn. She would take them all downstairs later.
While the naked, blond girl stood there helplessly, the man wrapped a leather band around her neck. It was a quarter inch thick and attached to straps fore and aft. He ran the front strap down between the blonde's tiny breasts and fastened it to the front of the belt. He pulled it tight, then repeated the process in the back. Now the belt was immovable.
The spreader bar was removed and bracelets were applied to her ankles connected by a one foot chain. The man paused. It was time to do the head.
Returning to the box, the man brought back a leather helmet like device. Louise, in anticipation of his needs, removed the hood and ball gag. The blond girl looked about wildly. She saw the thing in the man's hands and guessed its purpose. "Please don't put that thing on me?" she begged piteously. "Please?"
"Shut the fuck up," the man said. The blond girl complied. Her body shivered with fright. What had the man meant that she wouldn't do too much fucking? What were they going to do with her? As the man presented a large leather plug to her mouth she moaned loudly. "Oh, God, no!"
The man rammed the gag home, filling her mouth. Her cheeks bulged and her lips were gruesomely distended. The gag was attached to a hood that went over the girl's face. It buckled under her chin and covered her head with leather. Two small plugs went into her ears to inhibit her hearin
g. There were two little straps that allowed their adjustment for her small head, two little holes for her to breathe through her nose. Her eyes were covered.
There was one last devise to be affixed on the girl's body. The young man took another belt from the box. It was also made of leather, but had a thick absorbent pad almost its entire length. The man snaked it between the blond girl's thighs and attached it to the front and back of the belt. Accidents might happen and they didn't want the truck all fouled up. In fact, the girls would almost certainly have to pee several times during the fifteen hour trip to New Jersey.
When it was her turn to be prepared, Maddy docilely allowed the confining outfit to be installed on her body. She knew resistance was futile, as was any effort to obtain mercy. Her fate was sealed, whatever it was. She didn't start to cry until the leather hood was pulled over her head and attached under her chin, but her tears were remarked by no one but herself, as the salty drops were absorbed by the thick leather of the hood.
The tall, distraught girl was led from the barn to the van. As he had done with the other girls, the man patiently tugged on the girl's arm, letting her progress slowly, with tiny steps, to the transport. Girls who were trussed up like this were rarely uncooperative. What choice did they have?
Once at the van, the man pulled Maddy forward so that her torso fell across his back. He then lifted her into the van. There was another short passage and Maddy thought she heard the faint noise of what sounded like a locker door opening. Almost all sound was suppressed by the earplugs. She was shoved inside and straps tightened about her neck, chest, thighs and ankles. She heard the locker door slam shut with a deadened clang.
The lockers at the sides of the van's interior were barely distinguishable from the walls. The walls had been built out to accommodate the nine inches or so that was the average measurement, front to back, of the female body. Girls with torsos a little bit thicker got squeezed in.
The heavy set man was done. He wanted a beer but would accept the coffee that was proffered earlier.
While the younger man was loading the truck, the tall man settled accounts with Herman. The price on the tall girl had been set. It had been listed with the want notice that had been emailed to Herman several months earlier, but the prices on the other two were open to negotiation.
Herman faced a somewhat loaded deck. The girls were already being packed for shipment. Even if he didn't like the price, there weren't a lot of people to sell them to. In fact, the people he dealt with would take it hard if he started selling to anyone else, but ultimately, usually, a fair price was reached. After all, the buyers wanted Herman to keep collecting girls for them. So they had to pay him commensurate with the risk. There were not a lot of sources of fine, young, female flesh, and few as good at it supplying it as Herman and Louise.
Herman had made coffee. He poured the tall man a cup. "Well, what do you think the little one's worth." He wanted to settle her price first then bargain up for the cheerleader. She actually was a cheerleader, from the University of Alabama. Herman had watched her pretty panties when she was flung into the air by her teammates. He was sold on her at once.
The tall man knew his business. It was the cheerleader first.
"I'll give you forty-five thousand dollars for the brunette."
"She's worth more than that," Herman replied. Both men knew this was true, but bargaining was bargaining.
"Her tits are small," the tall man said as he took a first sip of his coffee.
"Not that small," Herman answered. "She's got a great ass. You said so yourself."
"A nice ass I said."
"Better than nice."
"Okay, better than nice, but look what we paid you last time for the black haired girl. Now, she had an ass, and we only gave you sixty-five thousand for her."
The bargaining continued for a while. They settled on fifty-five thousand dollars for the cheerleader. The tall man offered twenty thousand for the blond. Herman cursed himself for not taming her a little while he had her in the 'hole'. That awful screaming! And the mouth! He should have taught her to keep it closed. Well, it was still all profit.
"I'll let you have her for twenty-seven thousand five hundred," he said grudgingly. Both men knew it was a fair price.
"Done."
The agreed upon price for the tall girl was one hundred thousand dollars. "Somebody wants this girl real bad," Herman thought when he got the email. Well, he wanted one hundred grand pretty bad. He had determined he would find the perfect girl and he had.
The tall man counted out one hundred eighty-two thousand five hundred dollars. Herman left it there while they talked. He would recount every pack later.
"So, Herman," the man asked, "you staying in business?"
"Sure, why not?" Herman answered. No way would he ever tell this guy he was retiring. If he told them that, he would no longer be of any use to them, he was more than likely to get a bullet behind the ear first, but he wanted one more score. One more good payday and he was out. "I'll have another load for you in two weeks," he said.
* * *
CHAPTER SIX
Martinez took a long drink of coffee. The stake out had been a waste of time. He knew it would be, but Jake was the boss, and he got paid no matter what. They were back in the conference room again. It was eleven a.m. There had been progress.
Jake had reported to Bertram the night before and would call him again after the conference. Always keep the customer informed. If something went wrong, you didn't have to explain it from the beginning.
Martinez was a light skinned Latino, with black hair and a small, narrow mustache. He was light and wiry, but sharp as a tack and a good watcher. He had a great sense of people and could pick out a baddun from a block away. If he didn't see anybody suspicious, then they weren't there. He spoke Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, some French and a smattering of Swedish. Where that last one came from no one knew. Consistent with type, he was aces with a knife.
"So, boss," he said, "where we at?"
Jake leaned back in his chair and looked over at his techie. "Well, Irving," he inquired, "where are we at?"
Irving took a deep breath and shuffled a small stack of papers in front of him. He had worked most of the night assembling in his mind the necessary components of the 'gizmo', as he called it, which apparently cut off the gas to Maddy's car. "I figured out two ways to assemble the gizmo you'd need to clamp off the gas by radio control," he said. "You'd need to have a strong transmitter and a sensitive receiver because of the electrical current being thrown off in the engine compartment. Transmitters that strong are a dime a dozen, but there are only two receivers made that are durable enough and small enough to work. You can't predict with any real assurance that the car won't go over a pothole or down a bumpy road, or even get rear ended by somebody."
"Come on, Irving, I don't need the lecture, just give me what you've got." Jake insisted.
"Okay, okay, but you've got to hear it all. You want to have confidence in my conclusions, don't you? I mean I can see it now, 'Are you sure, Irving? How do you know that, Irving? What makes you so certain, Irving?' Jeez!" Irving was easily exasperated.
"My bad, Irving," Jake said. "Get on with it."
"Okay. I ruled out one of the receivers since it's got a poor record for durability. A real good receiver, but not one you want to knock around.
"The receiver I would have used is made by Raytheon and is carried by three electronic catalogues and two electronic chains."
"Give me their names and I'll get somebody working on checking it out," Jake said.
"Hold on, cowboy, there's more."
Jake looked at Irving, exasperated. "So, give," he said impatiently.
"I sent out the vacuumed stuff from the car and the clay from the tote bag. The vacuumed stuff so far is a dud, but that'll take a while yet to go all the way through. The stupid flatfoots were all over the inside of the car so I don't expect anything very useful from that."
Irving sipped
of his coffee and everyone else rolled their eyes. Irving had a flair for the dramatic.
"Well, the clay was a home run. It's Georgia clay, as I expected. Now where would a girl from Carter County, Tennessee get Georgia clay on her tote bag? I think the bag was in the guy's car for some reason. While it was there, probably on the floor, it picked up the clay. After he made the snatch, he threw it back in the car. He probably had to open the hood from the inside anyway to retrieve the gizmo."
"Well, Irving, Georgia's a pretty big state." Martinez knew his geography.
"Ah, yes, Seńor Martinez, but what we have to find is overlapping sets. One set is the places in Georgia where this kind of clay is found. There are about twenty five locations mapped by the state geological survey."
"And the other set, I suppose," Jake said, "is the stores that carry this receiver."
"Yes, and it gets better," Irving replied. "You see, I run one of the best labs in the country. I hire the best guys I can find. Cost is no–"
"Enough with the commercial, Irving," Jake interrupted. "Give."
Tucker was in a distracted state. Any heavy thinking like this made his mind fog up. Just give him somebody's face to smash. The other two men were hanging on Irving's every word.
"Well, the clay deposits of this particular type run down along the banks of the Callamuchie River. It's three hundred miles from the mountains to the sea, but we found something that narrows it down considerably. My guys found a trace of a juniper berry in the clay. Just a little tiny piece, probably from an exploded pod. Well, there's only about a ten mile stretch along the river where juniper trees grow, just at the base of the Blue Hills."
"You mean this guy lives somewhere in that ten mile stretch?" Martinez asked.
"Not necessarily," Irving answered. "He could have gotten out of his car to take a piss there, but it's at least even money – and, it gets better."
"Irving, you're killing me," Jake complained.