6 days ago. May 20, 2020, 5:21 AM
The following story is only fiction. None of the characters or situations are based on actual persons or events. Any similarity between these and real individuals or events is unintentional. Some of the subject matter may be triggering for survivors of sexual assault. Sensitive subject matter includes rape, torture, violence, humiliation, psychological trauma, forced chemical dependency, forced impregnation, body modification/transformation and suggested beastiality. Reader assumes any liability beyond this warning.
Chapter 9: Esther’s folly
I began my experiment under the strictest of guidelines. I had fully intended to adhere to these guidelines with the utmost dedication to procedure and my own artistic license.
When I had the barn built I chose a place so very remote that the chances of any door knockers or traveling salesmen, while not completely nonexistent, were still very highly unlikely to ever come calling. Unfortunately I apparently underestimated (or hadn’t counted on) the determination of a certain U.S. Republican Party political volunteer.
It had never crossed my mind that anyone would ever see the turn-off from the main highway and assume someone lived at the end of the very long and very winding, two mile, muddy, dirt road through thickened forest and discouraging undergrowth. The sheer determination of said individual was impressive if not highly presumptuous.
I had been cleaning the floor beneath and around my two human-animals when I observed the car pulling up outside on my security monitor. I watched as it came to a park just outside the garage entrance and a lone passenger stepped out; a young black female dressed in a very smart looking pantsuit carrying a brown briefcase and looking rather lost. I watched and waited to see if anyone else would exit the vehicle but no one did. I decided it best to wait and see if she would just leave but after watching her walk all the way around the barn and adjoining workshop, peering through windows and then several attempts to open various doors, I decided confrontation would be necessary.
I removed my rubber apron and gloves and changed into my street shoes, all the while watching the monitor to see that she was still outside, but now leaning with her back against her car and looking at what appeared to be a map. Her body language suggested that she had not seen anything alarming but I couldn’t afford to risk the chance that she might have seen something that could later be used to connect my barn to any missing persons’ cases.
I walked upstairs into the garage area and made my way to the door. I peered through a small hole drilled in the center of the wood panel and saw that she was still studying the map.
I unlatched the bolt lock and pushed open the door. The sudden opening of the large door startled the woman and she yelled out.
“Shit!” she exclaimed. “Oh, darnit...I’m sorry...you scared me!”
“May I help you, ma’am?” I asked commandingly, but polite.
As I stood before her I could see that she was a very petite woman; shorter than 5 feet for sure, thickly padded all over and very busty.
“Oh hello...my name is Esther Parker...I’m with the Gregory campaign and I was just wondering if you had a few minutes to talk about some of the things that you might be concerned about within the community...I’m sorry...Misterrr...?”
She was quite lively and very obviously enthusiastic about whatever bullshit she was about to try and sell me.
“The Gregory campaign?” I asked, deliberately avoiding her opening for an introduction. “I can’t say that I’ve heard much about it, though I admit, I don’t usually follow political campaigns as a rule.”
“Well, in that case I’d be happy to answer any questions you have...address any concerns..?” She gestured toward the barn as if to ask permission to come inside.
I should state here that beyond the doors of my barn, on the ground level, there was nothing evidently suspect that would indicate to anyone that any kind of sinister act existed just one floor below; except there was. Many months back I had driven Bianca and Ashley to my barn in Bianca’s old and worn out Caprice and there, in the garage and uncovered, the car still remained.
At first I thought it best to make some plausible excuse to make it seem as if I were too busy to discuss the campaign but it occurred to me that, one, she would probably just attempt to reschedule another time to come back and, two, she had already peered through the windows of my barn and probably seen both the vehicles parked within. That may not mean anything to her in the moment, but she might make a connection if she were ever presented with any kind of missing persons information at some point in the future. It was for that reason I decided to humor her proposition; or at least lead her to believe that I had.
“I’d be delighted” I said cheerfully with my very best and welcoming smile. I gestured toward the door as I opened it invitingly. She smiled, reached down to pick up her briefcase and walked inside.
Once she stepped through the doorway I closed the door behind me and discretely bolted it shut. After I had secured the door my heart began beating faster as I was quickly working up the nerve to do what needed to be done. I felt that any kind of hesitation or further chit-chat might give away my intentions so instead I immediately decided to resort to more primal measures. As she unsuspectingly turned to address me I reared back my arm and then punched her with all of my strength, directly in the center of her face. The initial blow didn’t render her unconscious but it stunned her enough that she hadn’t had time to formulate any kind of reaction. She staggered backward tripping over her own feet but recovered short of falling down. Blood began to pour from her nose as her hands flew up to cradle her face. I quickly lunged at her before she was able to react, punching her again and again several times directly in the face and head.
She fell hard to the ground and I began kicking her in her side until she stopped moving.
Once I was satisfied that she was unconscious or dead, I went through her pockets finding a cell phone, car keys, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I opened her briefcase and found several flyers, a few pens and an iPad. I attempted to open the phone but I couldn’t gain access so I immediately destroyed it. I opened the iPad and found that it had no internet or data connectivity so I turned it off and put it back in the briefcase with the other contents. I then opened the barn doors, went outside and moved her car inside. I re-secured the doors and went about the next order of business; Esther Parker.
After I succeeded in carrying her lifeless body down into the cellar I then proceeded to check her vital signs. Surprisingly enough she still had a pulse and seemed to be breathing though rather labored and weakly in my opinion.
I’m not a doctor nor do I have any skill at anything beyond basic healing. I had no idea if she would survive my assault or if anything could be done to aid in her recovery. I honestly didn’t care either. I hadn’t planned for this eventuality but I had a firm understanding of the consequences if she were ever to report my location to anyone. If she died, she died. I would figure out the rest later. In the meantime, I chained her ankles to the same eye bolts used to secure Ashley’s wrists. I propped her against the wall and decided to wait and see if she regained consciousness.
Ashley was far too preoccupied with her constant fucking and milking to notice any outside noise and Bianca was still in a Propofol stupor.
I went to my desk and sat down in a very familiar mindset. With my now blood covered hands firmly rubbing my temples, I leaned back, closed my eyes and began to contemplate my next course of action.