tagErotic HorrorThe Evil Within Ch. 02

The Evil Within Ch. 02


Terrors Revealed


The Sale of Claire Benton

As they drove up the The Garden State Throughway Claire Benton was frightened. Her husband David had picked her up the law firm she worked at and taken her to lunch; he was quiet and agitated. After lunch, he turned back onto the highway but he wasn't going back to her office.

They pulled off at one of the Newark Airport exits and drove to a rundown motel. David parked in front of a room, got out, went around the car and opened Claire's door, taking her by the hand. David knocked on the door of a room; the door opened and David pulled Claire inside.

It took a moment for Claire's eyes to adjust to the light in the room. The smell of sex, cigarette smoke and sweat filled Claire's nose. She thought maybe David was going to force her to play out one of his favorite fantasies of raping her in a cheap motel but then she noticed the pleading eyes of the young woman who was bound spread eagle to one of the queen beds in the room, her mouth gagged with what she recognized as an S&M ball gag. (She recognized the gag because David once wanted to use one on her; she thought it was silly and refused. He was angry with her for a week but never brought the gag up again.)

There were two men in the room: one on the bed with the woman. He was nude; his cock half erect, shiny with moisture; Claire was sure he had just finished having sex with the woman; there was a video camera pointed at the bed. The other man was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans. David whispered something to this man.

The man nodded. "Okay, bitch, let's see the goods," the man said, "Strip." Claire looked first at David and then at the man. The man's casual tone was so different from what he'd just told Claire to do.

"Uh...excuse me?" Claire asked the man; maybe she'd misheard him. But when the man ignored her Claire turned to her husband, "David?" There was quiet pleading in her voice.

"Do what he says Claire; it's very important for you and the kids." David placed emphasis on the kids and that chilled Claire.

Claire stared at David for another minute and then silently and slowly began to remove her clothes. She wore the standard business suit: white blouse buttoned at the throat, blue jacket, blue skirt, hose and low heeled black pumps. She took care to fold each piece of clothing neatly and put them on the room's suitcase stand.

The man paid little attention at first. He was looking through her purse. He found her driver's license. By now Claire was to her camisole, bra and panties and the man stopped to watch as she finished and stood trembling in front of him and her husband; her arms crossed over her naked breasts. The man reached out, moved one of Claire's arms away from a breast and hefted it. He thumbed one of her nipples and then pinched it lightly, roughly rubbing her areola. He hummed his approval. Claire was both shocked and repulsed that her body responded to the man's fondling.

"Turn around and bend at the waist; hands on your knees."

Haltingly, with tears starting to flood her eyes, she obeyed. The man produced a flashlight from his pocket and pointed it at her sex; he probed her sex and ass with his finger. "David!" Claire cried out at the man's rough probing.

"Shut up Claire! Don't make this any worse than it has to be."

"Okay," said the man, "stand up and face me." Claire obeyed but kept her head bowed. The man addressed David, "I thought you told me she'd be suitable for my needs. I mean she looks young, sure, but she's way too old for what I need."

"She's only 29."

The man pointed at the woman on the bed, "And she just turned 18. Your woman's way over the hill, friend."

David became agitated, "So does that mean you won't take her?"

"Easy sport, I can find other uses for her. But instead of the 50 percent off, I want full price."

"Half?! She fucks like a whore! Sucks cock like a pro! She'd make a pile of money for you if you sold her to some brothel in Russia or Greece."

"That's not my line of business, sport. Ten large; take it or take her home and figure out something else to do with the bitch. Why don't you just kill her?"

Kill me? Claire's mind boggled.

"But...No, I can't kill her and...I don't have ten grand," David stammered.

The man looked at Claire and then back at David; he wasn't sure who was most pathetic but he was leaning toward the man. The man took a drag on his cigarette and flashed a gun stuck in his belt.

"All I've got on me is $7,500. I...I, uh, I think I can get more in a day or two."

The man held up his hand, "Give me the $7,500 and get the hell out of here."

As David nervously counted out bills the man asked, "You got something to say to your woman before you go?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Just like we discussed, sport. Nothing extra, nothing less."

David swallowed hard and then faced Claire who was wide eyed with terror. "Claire, you're going to go with these men. You're going to disappear. If you ever try to escape from these men in any way, they'll either call me and tell me to kill the kids or they'll come and kill the kids and me. Don't ever try to contact us. You're dead to me. How long you live from here out depends on how well you obey these men. Do you understand?"

Claire was shaking, tears running down her cheeks smearing her makeup. David was getting agitated again because Claire wasn't answering; not realizing she was so stunned and frightened that she couldn't speak.

David raised his hand to hit her. The man grabbed David's wrist, "She understands, sport. Now, get the fuck out of my sight before I decide to call this deal off and kill both of you. Do you know in Tanzania that your hide is worth over $10,000 at current prices?"

David stared at the man for a moment, the man released David's wrist and David bolted out the door.

The man closed the motel room door and walked back into the room. Without even looking at Claire he said, somewhat kindly, "Get dressed. We'll be leaving shortly."

It was as if Claire had not heard the man. She called to the door of the room, "I love you...David."

"Lady, your slug of a husband has just paid me $7,500 to make you disappear; his original deal was going to be $5,000 because he told me you were young enough but he lied. I'm a fucking serial killer, among other things that you'll find out about later but you really don't want to know about now. So I wouldn't waste your tears on that piece of shit. Now, get dressed."

Claire starred at the man, her mind only barely comprehending what had just happened, and then silently she forced herself to bend down, pick up her clothes and start to dress.

They drove south to Virginia. The two men sat up front with Claire and the young woman in the back seat. Claire looked at the woman; Claire thought she was very pretty. The men had made her wash her face, put on some makeup and brush her hair before they left the motel. But, though her eyes were open they were glassy and defocused. The man who David paid caught Claire looking at the girl from the rear view mirror.

"Wondering about your compatriot, eh?"

Claire looked at the man and then his eyes in the mirror and nodded hesitantly.

"She's 18, don't know her name - not that it matters. We had to give her some drugs to calm her down. It would be best if you left her alone; she's in her own little world right now. And, if you don't want a chemical vacation, dear, I'd be just as good and as quiet as you have been. Understand?"

Claire nodded though she didn't think being completely oblivious with drugs was necessarily a bad idea.

Somewhere along the road the car pulled into a rest stop. The driver, the other man, the man on the bed, got out and took Claire from the car and took her into the men's room.

He pushed her into the handicapped stall and closed the door behind him. "All right, sweet cakes, down on your knees," the man commanded as he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his half erect cock.

Claire shook her head and whispered, "Please don't make me do this. Please."

The man dropped his jeans to around his ankles and slowly jacked his cock to a long, hard erection. "Remember; do as you're told or bad things that you can't even begin to imagine will happen to your kids.

"No. No, please don't hurt them."

"Then down you go. Come on babe; show me what you can do with your mouth."

Claire slowly dropped to her knees as the man stepped toward her, holding out his erection. Claire licked it tentatively.

"Take it in your fist, bitch, and put the head all the way in your mouth."

Claire slowly did as she was told and gagged as the head slid back on her tongue. She pulled backwards coughing. The man started to pull up his jeans, "Well, okay. I gotta make a phone call. C'mon."

Claire tilted her head, tears filling her eyes, contemplating what the man had just said. When the man's implication hit her, she scrambled to grab for the man's jeans to pull them down and then took his cock. There was no more gagging. In desperation Claire gave the best blow job she could. She thought he was about to come; her mouth was filling with salty fluid. But suddenly the man pulled away from her.

"Jesus! You're good. I think you just need a little training. Stand up. Take off your shoes and hose."

Claire scrambled to her feet and complied.

"Turn around, put your hands on the wall and stand on your tip toes."

Claire complied, putting her face against the cool of the tile wall. She felt her panties roughly jerked down and then the man pulled her hips back and fumbled with mounting her. When the man was finally in, he sighed.

It didn't take him long to come. While he was fucking her Claire's mind drifted; she took comfort in the coolness of the wall against her face. But then she heard him grunt. The man's cock jerked inside her; he was coming inside her. She felt the extra slickness. His sperm was now in her womb. As she heard the sounds of her increased wetness with the man still thrusting vigorously inside her and she felt wetness run down the inside of her thighs her mind thought it all signaled the completeness of her taking.

If the man's orgasm had not sealed Claire's hopelessness then the next man in the stall, a long haul trucker thinking he was breaking in a pimp's new bitch, did. The trucker bent her over the stinking toilet, ripped her camisole off, fumbled with her bra, roughly massaging her breasts and then held her tightly by the hips as he fucked her violently. He was crude and was enjoying using Claire's body immensely.

When the trucker was done he pulled out of Claire without ceremony. She collapsed into a sitting position on the toilet, her knees together and arms covering her naked breasts. He opened the door to the stall and paid the man $20 bucks.

"Hope you liked her."

"Hell, she's the best $20 I've spent in a long time. And she's not one of them skanks either."


Claire stood, her skirt around her waist and her blouse and bra open. So, this is what Lisa does, kind of Claire thought, I can be a whore if I have to.

"Clean yourself up bitch, we gotta move."

Claire took some toilet paper and wiped her sex as best she could. She pulled off her bra and dropped it on the floor then buttoned her blouse, pulled her skirt down, slipped on her shoes but left her panties and hose and followed the man back to the car.

This was the pattern for their drive to their destination; anytime the car stopped at a rest area or pulled off onto a country road at a park or just by a field, one of the men would rape her.

The driver's partner had her bent over the trunk of the car off a side road. He lasted almost long enough that Claire was close to orgasm.

On the third stop, Claire unbuttoned her blouse before she got out of the car. She came that time, kneeling in a ditch somewhere in the Carolinas as the driver did her doggy style.

Before the car stopped a fourth time, Claire was fingering herself to get wet and closer to orgasm. Before they got to Virginia, Claire was masturbating, discretely, almost continually. The man driving smiled. Well, I may keep her around he thought. I bet I can train her to do the work, maybe even use her as a lure and maybe even get her to calm some of his steers down before they met their fate.

They drove to a farm house just south of Richmond. The car pulled up to a barn and they got out. Walking through the door of the barn was like stepping from the nightmare she thought she was in into a new level of unimaginable horror. Claire thought maybe she was hallucinating.

She heard a steady drip to her right as she entered the barn. She looked and immediately wished she hadn't.

She starred at the scene until one of the men pushed her forward. The sight ahead of her was not as horrific but still it made her skin crawl. Where she expected to see stalls for cattle she instead saw two parallel rows of chain link dog runs. As she walked down the aisle between the cages she saw each cage held a woman; all were naked, some wrapped themselves in army blankets. The women didn't speak to her or the men, those who paid them any attention at all simply starred. Their stares said, Here's two more. The women's faces were devoid of any hope.

Claire did not get a cage. To her surprise, she had a small room with a full size bed. They gave her a thick denim shirt as clothing that just covered her ass but no shoes or underwear.

To her captors' extreme pleasure, Claire did prove to be very useful. They trained her to work with the women in the cages; to clean them up, feed them, to offer some sort of consolation. It was now the only time she ever spoke and her voice was small and breathy; the men reflected that it had a spooky yet comforting ethereal quality to it as if she were an angel in a slaughterhouse and in a very real sense she was.

"You know who we're doing tonight, right?" one of the men asked Claire.

She nodded.

"Then go get her. Calm her down. Get her ready."

Claire turned and went to a cage. There a small girl with bright red hair huddled in the far corner. Claire opened the door and stood at the threshold. "Ginny, come on. I'm going to take you to my room. It's all right.

The girl tried to hide her face, her body trembling as she whimpered quietly. Claire came in and touched her shoulder. "Come on. It will be all right. I want to make you feel better before it's your time."

"The-they're going to kill me, aren't they? I'm not going home," the girl cried.

Claire knelt beside the girl and put her arm around her. "Yes. They're going to kill you in a while. But the pain won't be much at all. And you'll be home with God and there'll be no more pain."

"I don't believe in God."

"That's all right. I know He exists. He knows you exist and soon He'll end your pain and someday these men will get their rewards."

"How? How do you know?" the girl sobbed.

"I know because these men who have taken us are demons from Hell. If there are demons there is also a God. You'll be with Him shortly. Now come on."

The girl took Claire's hand and followed her to Claire's room. "Why don't you go to the bathroom, Ginny? It's right over there."

A short while later Ginny came out of the bathroom. Claire was sitting on the bed. She patted the mattress beside her, "Come lay here," Claire said in her small ethereal voice.

The girl walked across the small room and sat on the bed. Claire kissed her gently and then guided her to lie on her back. For the next 20 minutes Claire gently washed the girl's body with sweet smelling soap. After the sponge bath, Claire slid her naked body over the girl's and began lightly kissing and caressing her until Claire was between the girl's legs, her mouth on the girl's sex.

The girl's orgasm came slowly and she lay in Claire's bed, breathing deeply, and feeling relaxed. She never saw the rubber mallet in Claire's small hand that hit her in the temple, knocking her unconscious.

Two hours later the girl had been "processed."

They trained Claire to actually do the "processing." They made her do several of the women by herself. She was a quick study and soon she was quick, neat and efficient. On the girls she especially liked or felt sorry for, she insisted that they let her do them.

When she wasn't working with the captives the men would use her sexually, sometimes six to ten times a day. They would rape her or sexually abuse and humiliate her, making her masturbate with objects or binding her hands and torturing her while they masturbated her and watched her come despite her torment. It all usually took place in a spot between the two rows of cages where they forced the women to watch.

But Claire took comfort in the routine. She was mentally beyond responding to the horror that was around her; that she now willingly participated in.

Two times when it appeared Claire was pregnant they had used a coat hanger on her and used her mouth and ass for their pleasures for a day or two while she healed.

The one thing that Claire could still comprehend in her ravaged mind was that as long as she was not in a cage and as long as they continued to use her for sex and to fulfill their sadistic desires, she would live. The men never had sex with the women that they captured once they arrived at the barn.

At the end of six weeks of captivity, Claire's fortunes changed - for the better. Although, at this point in her life, she had forgotten her name, where she came from, her life prior to the barn; she had no sense of time. She didn't know how long she had lived in the barn.

But she was going to California now. She had been sold to a woman. She would have babies for the woman. This seemed like a good thing. She thought she had been a mother before and having babies would be nice.


Three Years Later

Cynthia Knowles was very happy. She was driving Yvette Harriman to meet "the girls" for their weekly lunch. A year of intense coaxing had finally paid off; Yvette Harriman and her husband were moving to Pacific Palisades and Yvette would do cardiology and internal medicine consults for Cynthia's older plastic surgery patients plus Yvette would be in practice for herself.

Sitting around their favorite table on the private club's veranda were the girls: Amy Chang, Deb Baker and Roxanne Sommers. Cynthia made the introductions. Yvette politely smiled and shook each woman's hand. Deb Baker could have sworn she saw literal sparks fly between Yvette's eyes and Roxanne's eyes when they shook hands. The handshake lingered a moment. Amy saw it too and the two women tittered.

Yvette sat down, "What?"

"It looks like Roxanne has eyes for you Yvette," Amy piped up. "Have you warned Yvette about our Roxie?"

Cynthia made a face and turned to Yvette, "Pay them no mind. You get up here in the hills with the Pacific laying out there and they get as silly as school girls."

"So what brings you out to Southern California - besides Cynthia?" Deb asked.

Yvette Harriman turned back to the waiter standing by her shoulder, "I'll have an extra cold, extra dry, Beefeaters martini, three olives. Thanks."

"Well, isn't Southern California a reason unto itself? But seriously, I was attracted to just the raw decadence. Pretty staid back in dark, cold, Milwaukee, you know. I hear you all do a pretty fair job at decadence and debauchery. Don't disappoint me; I'm looking forward, in my off hours, to lavishly practicing and being exposed to decadence that would make a Lutheran minister sick and," she paused, looking reflective, "I want to be debauched and maybe do some debauching myself." Yvette smiled at the group as if she had just commented on the weather and then reached into her bag and came out with cigarettes and lighter.

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