The Gold Digger Ch. 05

Bob reached the hotel and called on Ruth, telling her he was there to pick up his parcel, the parcel being Carol.

Ruth brought the girl to an outside bathhouse. She had been hidden in the cellar. She was cleaned up and dressed in one of their maid's uniforms. Bob paid Ruth the money they'd agreed upon and left the hotel office. Ruth explained the girl was already at his car waiting for him. Bob was secretly excited about seeing Carol again. It had been five weeks since he'd dropped her off, and he'd missed her. He'd especially missed the sex. When he reached the car he opened the front passenger's door and allowed her to slip in. Bob walked around and took his place behind the wheel.

For the first several miles neither said anything. Carol had given Bob a quietly tentative smile, but said nothing and made no attempt to move from her first placement. Bob had a lot to say to Carol, but kept quiet. He wanted to criticize her silly, sexually immature, even stupid behavior regarding the old people. He wanted to threaten her with dire consequences were she to try something that stupid at any future place he decided to place her. He also wanted to get in her pants. It had been weeks since his last go round, and he was tired of walking around with an ever-present bulge in his pants.

As they continued driving something about Carol's demeanor seemed puzzling. They'd been traveling quite a while, perhaps forty-minutes. She hadn't moved once. She sat there, next to the door, rock solid and still. He didn't like her appearance. She looked like someone who hadn't seen the sun in days. Her corneas were so rippled with red they looked like a state road map. Her complexion was a pasty sickly white. He also detected a faint trace of some odor. He couldn't quite pin point what the odor was. It smelled a little like body odor, maybe some other trace smells. Urine maybe? Old caked blood? Maybe the residual smell left behind from some old pustulant wound. He couldn't get it right. Then he got it. She smelled like shit! Finally he asked. "You all right?"

Carol gave him a faint smile. "I'm fine."

That was the trigger. She wasn't fine. "OK. What's wrong?"

Carol responded. "Nothing. I'm fine." Actually she wasn't fine. She was in excruciating pain. She was desperately tired. Her body ached from a hundred wounds, and she was afraid to move.

Bob pulled the car over to the side of the road. "Christ you look like shit! You smell like shit! I thought you'd be glad to see me?"

Carol put her hands to her face. She placed them to her nose as though she was in a posture of prayer, but she wouldn't look at him. "I am glad to see you. You have no idea how glad."

Bob was getting pissed. For the first time he noticed the red welts on her hands. There was an ugly red sore on her lower lip, and her nose was red looking around her nostrils like someone who'd been obsessively wiping it. "Did you bother to take a bath this morning?"

Carol was a beaten young woman, but she was still Carol. The question scraped across her psyche like a set of fingernails across a chalkboard. "Yes I took a bath! Of course I took a bath!"

Bob said. "Well you smell like shit."

Carol answered tartly. "Well I took a bath."

Bob reached over and took her upper left forearm. "Come over here and sit closer" Expecting a cuddling, he'd driven a vehicle with a bench seat this morning. As he touched her and started to pull her arm she gave a reflexive jerk away, followed by an involuntary gasp. Bob took another look. She'd broken out in a sweat, a cold sweat. He didn't say anything else. He pulled back on the highway, threw transmission into high gear and sped along as fast as he could. He didn't have to drive too far till he saw a Motel Six along the side of the road. He pulled in. Looking at Carol he said. "Wait here." He went inside, got a room and came back outside. Opening the passenger's door he held out a hand. "Come with me."

He and Carol walked inside and down the hall to the room he'd rented. For the first time he noticed her troubled gait. There was something wrong. Something was terribly wrong. They went inside the motel room. He told her. "Take off your clothes."

For Carol the moment of truth had arrived. She had no choice. Not Ruth's threats, not her own misgivings, not even her fears for Bob. Nothing could conceal what she was about to reveal. She slipped off the maid's dress. Undid the bra. Pulled down the nylons, and slipped out of the panties.

Bob stood there, aghast. "What did they do to you?" Her body was pocked with horrible red bite marks. They covered her body from head to foot. He could still see the residual excrement between her toes, and the shit slathering between her legs. There were terrible chaff marks under her arms, between her legs, all over her precious breasts, but especially around her neck. Her pussy was a mass of vicious bites and red puss filled scabs. He felt nauseous. He wanted to throw up, but fought it off. This was the worst case of abuse he'd ever seen, and, being a veteran, and an army corpsman, he'd seen a few. He was quite literally afraid to touch her. Afraid he'd hurt her more. "Carol? Who did this?"

Carol was crying, not heavy boo hoos, just tears and sniffles. "I promised. They made me promise not to say anything."

Bob was furious. "Who are they!" his anger was overriding his self-control.

Carol whimpered. "Oh Bob."

Bob regained control. It had to be Ruth and her superiors who were responsible for this. He controlled his fury. "It's not important. We'll get to that later. What's important is getting you straightened out." He went to the bathroom and turned on the tub water, setting it at a mildly warm level. He called out. "Come in I want you to soak in the tub."

Carol sort of swiveled her way into the bathroom and stood beside the tub.

Bob said. "I have some experience in these matters. Not a lot, but some. You know better than I do what you can and can't touch. Don't use any soap. Just let's climb over the rim here and sink down in the water. It's warm and won't hurt you, though I'm sure it's going to sting. I have to step out a second."

Carol gave him a woeful look.

Bob grit his teeth in empathy. "I'm not leaving you. There's a CVS back about a mile. They'll have the cleansers and disinfectants we'll need. While I'm gone you just soak, maybe you can swish back and forth a little."

Carol started crying now. "Bob I've missed you."

He wanted to hold her, hug her, but knew he couldn't. "I'm here now. You just soak. I won't be long." He left her in the bathroom and drove back up the road. The selection at the CVS was better than he anticipated. He need gentle soaps, creams, salves, camphor, aloe, medicated creams, soft comfort gels, and antiseptics. He could clean up the worst and get pain-relieving salves and other medications on what he was sure were insect bites, but he understood she'd need some serious professional medical attention tomorrow. With all the damage done to her body, the bites, the chaffings, the abrasions, she'd certainly need some antibiotics. He'd see to it. He'd call his personal physician first thing, get an a.m. appointment, and get her started on a recovery regimen immediately.

When he got back to the motel room she was still resting in the tub. He checked the water temperature. It cooled somewhat, but not enough to add any heated water. Even without soap he could see grime and filth in the water. She'd clearly suffered some serious mistreatment. He carefully reached in and took her hands. As gently as he could he helped her to her feet. "Let's get you up so I can wash you off a little."

Carol wanted to cry but held back. "She locked me in this tiny little room in the cellar. They never let me out."

Bob interrupted her. "First things first. Let's get cleaned up and put some medicine on those bites. Then we'll talk about what happened, and then we'll talk about getting even. How's that?"

Carol looked over and gave him a soulful look. "I don't care if we never get even. I just never want to go back there. And I never want to see that woman again. Not ever."

Bob had turned the shower on and set the temperature. It was a soft cascading flow. Using his hands he very softly, very gently, and very carefully started washing down her abused flesh. She was quite a trooper. She was putting up a good fight. He knew the soap and wiping hurt. She winced some, but didn't cry out, and she didn't flinch back. He kept her in the soft flowing shower for more than an hour before finally helping her out. He half carried and walked her to the side of the bed. Jesus he thought. He'd never seen so many bites. He started rubbing in the medicated creams he'd purchased. He considered. This is going to be a long slow recovery. He said. "I hope those old bastards appreciated those blow jobs."

Carol laughed between the tears. She was telling herself he was her knight in shining armor. He'd finally come and rescued her, but there was something else that was even more deeply troubling. Something she had to tell him. Something she was afraid would change everything. She'd been at the old people hotel for a cool five weeks, and she'd been at the Bed and Breakfast for three. Add two days at the luxury suite, and then add another two weeks before that, it all came to nearly eleven weeks. Counting it up it came to two and a half months. That's nearly ninety days. Ninety days was a trimester. The men had screwed her two weeks into her cycle. She'd stopped taking the pill two weeks before, figuring she'd never need it again. "Bob." She said.

"Yes." Said Bob.

"Do you like children?" Carol inquired.

Bob was carefully rubbing a thick medicated cream between her severely chaffed legs. "Never thought about it. Why?"

Carol said. "Just wondered. That's all."

Bob's curiosity had been tweaked. "I like kids I guess. They're all right I suppose. I was married once. We never had any. Never tried. She was on the pill. Have a dog though."

Carol was grateful in a way. He hadn't caught the inference. "What kind of dog?"

Bob answered. "A lab, big black one, kind of fat. Her name is Annie. Stupidest damned animal you ever saw. Do you like dogs Carol?"

Carol answered. "Oh yes. I especially like labs, big fat black ones."

Bob laughed. "Why'd you ask about children?"

Carol had to get it out on the table. She had to tell him. How to do it? Oh hell. Just do it. "I think I'm pregnant."

Bob hesitated a second but continued applying the cream lotion. He started counting now. He wondered whose it might be. If she'd fooled around before that night of nights it could be anybody's. If not then it was either his, Hank's, or Allen's. Hank and Allen were married men with children. Something like this wouldn't fly with them. That left him. He didn't know what to say. He tried to make a joke. You think you're pregnant? You're sure it's yours? How sure are you?"

Carol ignored the stupid remark but answered. "Well I'm not always regular, but I guess I've missed two periods. I'd stopped taking my pills two weeks before. Well two weeks before, you know. That puts me about ten, maybe eleven weeks along."

Bob asked. "Had you done anything? You know. Before?"

Carol resisted her rising anger. "No. Nothing before that night."

Bob went on. "That sort of narrows it down doesn't it"

Carol answered. "Pretty much."

Bob said. "Have you decided what you want to do?"

Carol replied. "Do about what?"

Bob stammered a little. "You know."

Carol lit up the sky with her next line. "It's yours Bob. Allen pulled out, and Hank was a limp wiener. You were the one with the hammer. You're the one that hit the home run. I get a paternity test it'll be your DNA. I know it."

Bob stopped rubbing. He was out of places anyway. He didn't know what to say. "Well at least we know who the father is."

Carol started to cry. "I'm sorry. Tell me what to do. But if I'm pregnant I'm keeping it."

Bob was still afraid to touch her, but he tried to console her the best he could. "I'm calling my physician n the morning to get you some antibiotics anyway. We'll get him to do that rabbit test or whatever it is you women do. If you're pregnant, we'll work something out. Hell." He said. "There's always adoption."

Carol stood there beside the bed. She reflected on what had been happening. She'd suffered a gang bang followed by a group blow job. Then there'd been a spanking, tattoos, a B&B brothel, going down on geriatric men and women, then locked in a roach infested closet sitting in her own feces, having repeated wanton sex with a man who just decided his child ought to be put up for adoption. Not to mention a second attack by Hank a former colleague. Carol's water bucket just burst open. She cupped her face in her hands and allowed the floodgates to open up. Name it, Niagara, Victoria, Yosemite, and now Carol. Out the tears flowed. Once the dike was pierced nothing was going to hold it back. It was loud. It was ugly, and it was wet.

Bob just stood there. There wasn't a single spot on her body he dared touch, but he had to do something. He grabbed her hair. He gently shook her head. He said. "Go ahead cry. Just let it out. So we won't adopt."

Carol heard that. We won't adopt. We, he said. We won't adopt. She cried even harder.

Bob held her by her hair and made her face him. What the hell! He pulled her up against him, sores, bites and all. She leaned into him and cried her little heart out. He'd never heard such mournful wailing. No baby's cry ever sounded this pathetic. Slowly the rate of suffering began to ebb. The once free flowing torrent weakened to a steady stream, then a trickle, and finally errant sniffs. He kept holding her until she was fully finished. He pressed her back on the bed. He thought shit, no sex tonight. He leaned over her. He had to say something. "This doesn't settle anything. You know I still have to punish you."

Carol heard him. What he said sounded like a great relief. "Oh Bob. Punish me all you want. I want you to punish me. I've got your name on my ass, and your flowers on my cheek. Punish me. Do what you will. Chain me up. Lock a collar around my neck and walk me like a dog. Put me on the rack. Shave my head. Strap me spread eagled on a bed, as long as it's you that does it. I'm yours, do as you will. Punish me Bob. Any punishment from you could never be enough. I need your punishment. Punish me. Punish me good."

Bob knew she was approaching hysteria. She needed to get some rest. "OK I will. You're really going to get it! Right now though I want you to go to sleep." He pushed her down on the bed. "Go to sleep little reprobate. Tomorrow we'll start to get you well. Then I'll singe your little miscreant's heart and blister that perverted little ass. But right now go to sleep." He stepped away and watched as she drifted off. Brother he thought. We've got our hands full now. He thought again. Hell! She had some good ideas!