Trailer Trash

The organization began 15 years before. The big man had just gotten divorced. His wife was a divorce attorney, and a successful one. The big man had walked away with barely the clothes on his back. He began to think of the woman he would make if he had had the say. The woman like his own mother, who had dotted on his father, and never had a cross word to say.

He had thought on this while working in shit bartending jobs, hearing men coming in to complain about their wives and the demanding and bitching and nagging. Women taking every dime the poor guy had, woman fucking their brothers, cousins, best friends.

He had begun to wonder where the women were from the old days. The women who knew their place. Who knew that the men were the bosses, and they kept quiet and obedient. Fucking Gloria Steinem. That\'s what happened. All those dike cunts telling women they were equal to men.

The frustration had begun to build until one day he was in a movie rental place in the seedy back room they all had for the fuck flicks.Sure he could have taken home any of the selection of late night drunken sluts that hung at the bar until closing, but at that time he fucking hated women and all they stood for, so he chose to watch a movie and beat himself off.

He was perusing the movies when he saw a cover that caught his attention. On this cover was a woman dressed in fake leather, tied up on the floor while this man stood over her with a whip in his hand. The look of fear and respect on the woman\'s face gave him an idea.

For the next few months he would take the two hour drive into New York City once a month to some basement level clubs. These dimly lit catacombs where the sickest and most perverse fetishes could be realized by anyone who could stomach them. He watched, listened and learned. He took note of the sheer numbers of women in chains and how they actually chose to be there.

There. That was it. He would build an army of them! Women in chains at the feet of the men whom they served! It was crazy, he knew, but he also knew it just may work. This was when his name had been Terrance Goodale. Terrance Goodale had a good friend named Freddy Valdez. Freddy was one of those hen pecked, ass chewed husbands. His wife was pretty but nothing to grab your dick and scream about.

Her looks were not the point, however. It was she was there. She was perfect training ground for himself, so one night when he had taken Freddy out drinking, and left him asleep on his sofa, Terrance went over to Freddy\'s house, got in with Freddy\'s keys, and walked through the front door. It was not a minute before Sylvia Valdez was rounding the corner, face red in anger. She stopped short when seeing Terrance, looking behind him for her husband, "Where the hell is Fred? It\'s 3 o clock in the morning!"

Terrance had walked up to her and while her face changed from anger to curiosity, he sent her to the floor with one hard fist to her mouth.

It did not take much to convince Freddy of the endevor. Seeing his wife tied up and bleeding, fear instead of contempt in her eyes were all it took for his balls to finally drop. He agreed to let Terrance have her for a month. A month of what Terrance had called "retraining". Terrance had told him that women inherently wanted to serve their men, but society had made it seem vulgar, wrong. If Terrance could retrain Sylvia, then he was all for it.

A month later Freddy received a gift from Terrance in the mail. It was a collar. The signal they had both agreed upon that she was ready.

Since then there had been just over 35,000 girls and women through the many cellars and back rooms that the organization ran. Girls from 16 to 28 were taken outright. Terrance had set every law for the organization. The girls they had snatched in the early years who were younger than 16 were too young. Their bodies weren\'t ready for the treatment they received from the trainers, and/or owners, and more times than not died or were permanantley damaged. The girls over 28 rarely sold, although if the girl was a specific request, it happened. they had taken a woman 39 just a few months before for a guy who had been fucked up over her for years. Since fucking high school. Crazy.

Other areas of the organization dealt with men like his buddy Freddy. Men wanting to keep the bitches they had, just make them a little more cooperative. Less money, but less risk.

Mostly they took lower class sluts from broken families, although more than anything big man wanted to branch up and out. The lower class bitches almost knew their places already, staying with men who beat them and all. He wanted some of that upper class pussy to jump off of those expensive high horses now. He knew, however, that they would be a lot harder to get rid of. It meant that he would have to start dealing with other countries, using planes and ships. It meant FBI, high priced private investigators, crime scene investigators.

So, over the last few years he had begun to use his considerable resources to acquire some help from said agencies. He was planning to move on a bitch in Scottsdale, Arizona in less than six months. Some heiress to millions who could melt a polar ice cap with her fine rich cunt.

Soon, there would not be one bitch that was out of his limits.



THE phone rang. It was the phone only used when there was a problem. Big man came out of his reverie and felt his muscles tense. He hated fucking problems. Every problem meant time and money wasted. Meant a chance that all his dreams and work would be fucked. He hated to hear that phone ring.

The voice on the other side was Calvin. "I didn\'t want to call, but I think Nick may be flakin. I sent out some people to watch him. Says he wants a fucking vacation."

"You called me because one of our guys, no one of our BEST guys wants a fucking vacation? What the fuck is wrong with you, Calvin?"

The voice became meek and whining, "Boss, I wouldn\'t have called but I gotta feelin. I think he\'s not right in the head right now. Could slip up like Maryland."

Big man thought about Maryland. That fuck up had taken more money than the little slut had brought in. "Alright. Keep your eye on him and let me know. "

He paused and thought about it, "If Nick needs it, put a bullet in his brain."