Sherry's Story

Ghost From the Past

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with the Sin City franchise and I’m not making any money from this. Unfortunately.

Author’s Note: This chapter contains descriptions of torture as it includes an incident from Sherry’s past. You have been warned.

lll

I was afraid that because my condition was beginning to show itself, it would make me a pariah in school but the gold band on the third finger of my left hand gave me instant respectability. There were other teenage wives in school and all were in their final year. Even though I was in grade nine and the only one who was pregnant, we bonded together.

Ben and I were invited to many parties and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. I totally abstained from drinking—I figured I had done enough damage to my unborn baby already. In fact, there were several times that I had to drive Ben home because he drank too much to drive. I didn’t mind; neither did the police officer who stopped us once. I explained the situation and he let me off with a warning. He understood, stating that it was better to have an underage sober driver on the road than a drunk one of legal age.

I wasn’t feeling very well on the night of the plant’s Christmas party but Ben wanted to go, so I took a couple of Rolaids and hoped for the best. Being ill wasn’t the only reason I was hesitant about going—the plant manager, Clem Jenkins and his wife Jackie would also be attending.

What if it turned out that I had slept with Clem? What would happen if he mentioned it to anyone attending the party? What would Ben do if Jenkins threw it back in his face that he’d paid for the use of my body all those months ago?

On the night Ben asked me to marry him, I asked him what he would do if we came across a former customer. He’d told me once that if happened, he’d knock that man’s teeth down his throat if he made trouble for me. What if Ben made good on that threat?

Ever since Doris Brady’s Sunday afternoon get-together, I’d been racking my brain trying to remember if I ever fucked a man by the name of Clem Jenkins, but I never had any luck. Of course, the reason for that could be that he might have given me a false name, if I was even given a name at all.

As soon as I saw his shifty, weasel-like eyes, I remembered Clem Jenkins. Oh, I remembered him very well, because what he did to me was something, I would never forget. I’d known violence on many levels and at the time, I grossly underestimated the perverted insatiability of the diminutive man who’d paid for my services on that night, a lifetime ago.

Jenkins was one of those men who liked to hurt women, especially hookers, but he took it a step further. Clem Jenkins didn’t hire whores so he could fuck them—he bought them to beat and torture.

As for the owners of the fleabag hotels that he used, as long as he paid well to replace the blood-soaked sheets and mattresses, they were happy. There weren’t too many brothels in Sin City where he could get the services he wanted, but as in all major cities in the U.S, if a man was willing to fork out the dough, anything could be purchased.

And since Momma was always looking to make a quick buck, she asked no questions and turning a blind eye and deaf ear to welts, bruises and whip marks--provided he didn’t incapacitate the girl permanently, of course. If the whore he’d paid for needed more healing time than a week, that cost extra.

As I continued to stare at him from across the dance hall that had been rented for the occasion, I remembered our last meeting...

His gaze darkened as his watery eyes looked over my body. It was as if I were a horse to be judged and examined, before being accepted or rejected. “Hell, you ain’t much, but you’ll do. I used to make my livin’ breaking fillies and I haven’t had the chance to do it in a long while. Ever since that uppity half-breed nigger-loving shyster sacked me.”

I stared right back at him, not willing to show uneasy I was. Instinctively, I knew what he wanted, for I’d known men like him before. Men who liked to hear a woman scream in pain. More often than not, he wasn’t able to get it up unless she did. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. No fucking way. Besides, I told myself, I’d gone through hell already—this couldn’t possibly be any worse than the gang rape at the Roarke estate, right?

How innocent I was in my early days as a whore. How fucking naïve I was to the ways and wants of depraved men..

The man told me to undress and get on the bed. Like the fool I was back then, I obeyed and asked no questions. I didn’t think he could harm me—he was such a short man, barely topping my 5’1” frame. When I saw the riding crop in his hands, I giggled. I’d heard of men wanting to play horsie with a whore, I never thought I’d actually meet one.

He became amused at me for finding the situation funny. He said nothing but his mouth curved up in what was supposed to pass for a smile and I felt a cold shiver run through me. I’d seen only one other man smile like that and that was Senator Roarke on the night I’d met him and his sons.

He raised the riding crop above his head and brought it down on my back, over and over again. Above the sound of my heart pounding in my ears was a malevolent cackle of unmistakable glee. But I would not give him one fucking inch. I clenched my teeth tightly together and kept the pain contained deep inside.

My resolution to remain silent was broken when he moved me so that my ass was sticking into the air. He lashed my buttocks hard and fast, but that wasn’t what finally broke me. I froze when I felt the crop between my legs, hitting me, slicing at my cunt. Even that wasn’t enough for him; he forced my knees wide apart so he could strike at the tender flesh inside my pussy lips. With each blow, scream after scream left my throat. I begged and pleaded with him to stop but I found that that only seemed to incite him to hurt me more.

“You findin’ this funny? I din’t think you would. Now you know what I kin do, don’t ya, whore? I ain’t finished yet. No siree, not by a long shot. I gotta a lot more things to play with in that there bag of mine and coz’ you laughed at me, I’m gonna make damn sure to use every one of ‘em on you. Hell, I was gonna fuck you, but I think I’ll get more pleasure outta hearin’ you scream. Lookee here.”

Proudly he brought the bag over so I could see what was inside. He took out each object and laid it on the nightstand. The more he brought out to show me, the more terrified I became. Unlike toys adults used for sex, these things were designed for one purpose—to bring pain to the recipient and sadistic pleasure to the user. A black leather whip, studded with metal hooks. A metal object that looked like a pizza cutter—designed to cut deep into human flesh. Nipple clamps. A hard rod to beat the soles of my feet.

I whimpered in despair. Until I was allowed to leave, I was trapped here until he was satisfied.

“See? I even brought along a bottle of turpentine, so nothin’ will get infected. Ain’t I a gentleman for thinkin’ of that? And just so yore screams don’t bring the police runnin’, here’s something to quiet you down.” With the practiced movements of a master, he put a ball gag in my mouth and fastened it on the back of my head. “There. Now the fun can really start…”

As I looked at his smiling, leering face, I felt like I was going to be sick. I mumbled something to Doris about needing some air and I ran for the nearest exit. I emptied my stomach behind a garbage can. I stood still for a moment, knowing that my knees were going to give out. I had to find somewhere to sit, but there wasn’t a clean place for me to do that. I knew the parking lot was close and I used the fence as a brace as I stumbled around in the dark. It took a while but I found our car.

I opened the window and lay in the back seat, letting the brisk air of a December night sweep across my overheated skin. I cold feel wetness under my armpits and across my back. The dress I had chosen was form-fitting and it felt as if it were constricting my lungs. I reached behind me and unzipped it, the zipper felt cold against my lower back. I took a deep breath and filled my lungs with the reviving air.

I closed my eyes and curled up on the seat. I must have drifted off to sleep; for the next thing I knew, I felt a man’s hands cup my breasts. I smiled. I must have been sleeping more soundly than usual if Ben had taken me home, put me to bed and I hadn’t woken up!

“What time is it?” I murmured.

“Time for me to take what I want…and time for you to lie back and enjoy it.”

I bolted up, instantly wide-awake. That wasn’t Ben’s voice!

Jenkins pushed me back down on the seat and straddled my hips with his knees. “Well, ain’t this nice. A pretty young thing like you just lyin’ here, waitin’ for me.”

Like hell was I going to lie back and take it just because he said so! I had my baby’s life to fight for. I reached up and clawed at his face with my nails. Even though it was almost pitch black in the car, I could see the shine of blood on his face.

“How dare you!” I hissed. “I am a married woman!”

“Once a whore, always a whore,” Jenkins sneered. “Besides, you’d better be nice to me, girlie, because I can have your husband fired lickety split.”

“No you can’t,” I replied, with a certainty I was far from feeling. “Roarke does the firing and hiring for this place, not you. You may run the plant, but you don’t own it and trust me when I say that Roarke doesn’t like others to make decisions without his permission. You dare not fire Ben without his say-so and you know it.”

“You’re real sure of yourself, ain’t ya?”

Now it was my turn to be smug. “Ben and I know Roarke a lot better than you ever will, jerkoff.” I couldn’t resist in mocking him. “And it’s ‘aren’t you,’ not ‘ain’t ya.’”

“I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit here and let myself be insulted by a whore that’s gotten too big for her britches, just ‘cause she’s got a damn ring on her finger!”

He slapped me hard enough to make my teeth rattle but I wasn’t going to give up yet. But he had another trick up his sleeve. A deadly one that I hadn’t foreseen.

I gasped when I felt the cold steel of a switchblade knife against my throat. To prove that he meant business and would not hesitate to use the weapon if I resisted further, he put enough pressure to break the skin and I felt hot blood slide down my neck.

“Now, I don’t gotta tell you what’s gonna happen if you keep this up, do I?” He moved back so he could trace a zigzag pattern between my breasts without breaking the skin. With one skillful swipe, the blade sliced through the bodice of my dress but Jenkins didn’t stop there. He slashed my brassiere until it was nothing more than unrecognizable shreds. “It’d be a damn shame to scar them pretty titties of yours, but I will. Hell, if that won’t gentle you down some, I‘ll have to get real serious and hurt that there bun you’ve got growin’ inside of you.”

I felt the tip of the knife press into my flesh just below my belly button and I panicked. “NO!”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, slut!” Jenkins snarled. “I’ll tell you when you can talk. Just for that, I’m gonna teach you a lesson. Eenie, meenie, miney moe, where should I leave my mark on this ‘ho?” Jenkins crooned in a singsong tone. “Just so you don’t forget me, maybe I’ll carve my name into those boobs of yours. Hey, that sounds like a good idea.”

I felt my eyes fill with tears that spilled down my temples and into my ears and hair. I lay quietly beneath this maniac, afraid to move or even wipe my tears away for fear that if I moved without his permission, he would use his knife to cut deep into my breasts. When I had been a prostitute, I’d learned a thing or two about sadists and how their minds worked. Men like the one on top of me needed to hear how afraid I was. If a woman is afraid, that gives her abuser a feeling of power and control.

“Please…please don’t hurt me,” I whimpered. “I’ll do anything you want. Anything.”

“Oh, I know you will,” Jenkins replied, cackling at my submissiveness. He had me right where he wanted me and we both knew it. I could feel his cock hardening as he ground his hips against mine. “As I recall, I didn’t fuck you that last time. I should’ve, but I preferred to make you scream for laughin’. Tonight, I’m gonna take a diff’rent kind of pleasure.”

With my baby’s life at stake, I did not dare to resist or fight back. If I lay passive and quiet beneath him, then there was a good chance that he wouldn’t get angry or use force. And if I was really lucky, his lust would be satisfied quickly. Men who were as worked up as Jenkins now was generally didn’t last long.

I dug my nails hard into the fabric of the back seat when I heard a sound of a zipper being pulled down. My legs were yanked apart roughly and my dress was bunched up around my waist. I lay back waiting for his hard cock to violate my womanhood, to begin thrusting inside of me, making me pray for death.

But it didn’t happen.

Instead, I felt a rush of cold air blast across my body as the car door was opened, nearly wrenching it from the hinges. I heard the sound of raised and angry voices coming from outside. Jenkins was yanked from me and thrown on the ground.

“It’s okay, Sherry,” Doris said softly. “Let me take a look at you. I want to see if you’re all right.”

“He cut my dress and was about to rape me…” I couldn’t speak. I tried to cover my bare breasts with the tattered remains of my clothing. My teeth were chattering and I was shivering from shock. “He hurt me a long time ago, when I was a prost—I mean, when I still lived in Sin City. Oh God, if you hadn’t come when you did…” It took all my resolve not to give in to the hysteria that was building inside of me.

“No one’s going to hurt you. Give me your jacket, George; her clothes have been slashed to bits.” With George looking over one shoulder and Ben doing the same over the other, Doris pulled my dress down to preserve my modesty.

George’s dinner jacket still held the warmth of his body and it felt good against my frigid flesh. Doris put her arms around me and it had been so long since I’d been held like that by another woman, and Doris held me as gently as if she had been my own mother. I sobbed against her firm, comforting shoulder. When my tears subsided and I was calmer, Doris spoke. “Come on, Sherry, let’s get you home and into a hot bath, shall we?”

“How did you know where…?” I asked.

“I saw you leave when you saw Jenkins. He left right after you did,” Doris said. “I figured he was up to no good so I called Ben and George over and we followed you and heard every word. He pulls that stunt with the wife of almost every new employee. Tells them that if they don’t do as he wants, he can and will fire their husbands. I’m sorry to say that some of those women believed his bullshit, but you and a few others have stood up to him. I think I don’t have to tell you that he was pissed at your refusal and he would have hurt the baby.”

“How did you know about that?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Doris smiled, her eyes crinkling prettily at the corners. “I’ve given birth to five children, Sherry, and even though a woman may not be showing, there is a certain look on her face that says it all. Men don’t notice these things, only women do. Besides, at the buffet, you were only eating crackers and drinking ginger ale--that’s a sure sign of morning sickness and I put two and two together. How far along are you?”

“About three months.”

“Congratulations. A couple’s first child is special. I wish the best for both of you.”

“Babe, how are you?” Ben’s face peered over Doris’ shoulder as he tried to see me. “That bastard didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Jenkins made the mistake of speaking. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her!”

“You said that you were going to take the knife and hurt my baby if I didn’t do what you wanted!” I said, my voice trembling with the fear I still felt. I pushed my hair aside so that everyone could see the thin cut on my neck and the trail of blood. “You cut me!”

“I wasn’t gonna take it very far…I was just gonna feel you up.”

I wasn’t going to let him get away with that bull. “Liar! You’ve got a hard-on that is going to split your zipper.”

Clem had just been caught in two lies and knew better than anyone that he was screwed. His watery eyes narrowed as he looked at me and he jutted his chin at me defiantly. “You never told me no, you said that you’d do anything I wanted.”

“That’s because you had a knife to my throat and told me you were going to hurt my baby!”

“Coercion is not consent, asshole,” George said, his manner all the more frightening because he was calm.

“You are going to pay for what you tried to pull, dickhead!” Ben snarled. He grabbed Jenkins by the scruff of his neck and hauled him around to the front of the vehicle. “I’ll...teach...you...to...touch...my…wife, you...inbred…Cracker!” After each word, Ben slammed Jenkins’ face hard onto the hood.

“Ben, don’t!” George Brady grabbed Ben around the shoulders but Ben shook him off.

“Get the hell away from me, George, or I swear to God…”

“I know how you feel, Ben, but this isn’t the way!”

“Like hell you know how I feel! Have you ever had to comfort and clean your wife after she’s been raped? I have. I’m gonna make this bastard crawl on his belly like the worm he is and beg Sherry’s forgiveness before I’m done with him!”

“If you kill him, you’re gonna end up in jail! You’ve got a baby on the way….who’s going to take care of Sherry while you rot in prison for the rest of your life? Think about it…Your boy needs his father and your wife needs her husband.”

It was time for me to say something. “Please, Ben, he’s right! I can’t raise our baby by myself…let the law take care of Jenkins. You’ve done enough.”

Jenkins groaned and got to his feet. “I’m gonna make sure that your ass gets thrown in jail, mister,” he hissed at Ben, after spitting out a mouthful of blood and teeth. “You ain’t never gonna see that baby of yours, I’ll make sure of that.”

George Brady drew back his fist and gave Jenkins a punch that sent him sprawling against the car. He slid to the ground but did not get up.

“Runty little bastard has a jaw like concrete,” George said, shaking his hand and flexing his fingers. His eyes fell on me as I stood there shivering in the cool night air. “C’mon Doris, let’s get this young lady to her bed. She’s going to catch her death if she stays out here much longer.”

The wail of a siren broke into the stillness, the cruiser’s headlights illuminating the scene. I clutched George’s jacket closer around me but there were torn bits of my dress that hung out below the lower hem.

The cop took in everything about the scene in one glance—my torn dress, the knife and held his peace.

Jackie raced out of the car and dropped to her knees beside her husband. “What have you done to him?” she shrieked. Without waiting for a reply, she continued to rant. “I’ll have you all arrested for this! See if I won’t…” She helped her husband from the ground.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to take you all in for questioning,” the officer said.

“No!” Ben stated. “I did it. Just me. Take me in, but let these good people go. That bastard,” he snarled, pointing at the prone form of the plant manager, “tried to rape my wife. Look at her dress! Please, sir, let her go home? She’s pregnant and the stress of what almost happened to her tonight isn’t doing her any good.”

The officer looked at me and saw how young I was. He raised his eyebrows and whistled, giving me a lopsided grin that made my cheeks burn with anger.

“I want to come with my husband!” I shouted, going forward until Doris held me by the arm. In too many nightmares, I had seen Ben being taken away by the police and I wasn’t about to just stand by now and do nothing.

Doris came up to me. “Ben’s right, you need to be in bed, and a crowded police station isn’t the place for you. I’ll take you home. Ben won’t be alone, George will go with him. Everything will be fine, trust me.”

“Don’t worry about me, babe,” Ben said, kissing the top of my head. “I’ll be all right. I’ll be home before you know it.”

The last view I had of my husband was as he was being handcuffed and put in the back of the cruiser. Not caring about anything else, I fell to my knees on the ground and began sobbing. I was hardly aware of being picked up, brought home, and put into bed.

Doris had stayed the night with me although neither of us got a lot of sleep.

lll

Sitting over coffee the next morning, Doris and I were both shocked when Ben came striding through the door at ten thirty with George at his side.

We were informed that there would be no assault and battery charges against Ben. Clem Jenkins was dead, killed by his wife. I hastily made breakfast for the two hungry men and waited, barely concealing my impatience for them to finish their meal and tell me what had happened.

Since George knew the most, he spoke. “I heard from the cops that as soon as Jackie and Clem had arrived home from the police station, she’d told him that she was pregnant and he began to beat her. After punching her a few times, he came after her with his knife, yelling that she was going to have to get rid of it. For probably the first and only time in their marriage, she stood up to him, but that only made him madder. She brained him with an iron and kept hitting him until he stopped moving.”

“We’ve seen the bruises on her for years,” Doris said. “All through their marriage, she’d been beaten by him many times before but never told anyone. She was pregnant once before with twins, but lost them when her husband threw her down the stairs one night because she didn’t have his dinner ready when he came home. Like all women who have had miscarriages, she couldn’t bear to lose another baby. Nor could she bring herself to get an abortion. That’s probably why she fought back. She’d had enough.”

“Will she go to jail?”

“No jury in this state will find her guilty. She was only protecting herself and the life of her unborn baby.” Doris checked her watch. “Well, if George wants clean clothes for work next week, I’d better get home and start on the laundry. Besides, I think these newlyweds want to be alone. Remember how we were at that age?”

George smacked his wife playfully on the ass. “Sure do. Hell, girl, I need a shave and a shower. Wanna save some water and take one with me? ”

Doris rolled her eyes and gave me a ‘boys will be boys look’ but the gleam of desire and interest in his suggestion was still there. Looking at the interaction between them, I hoped in my heart that Ben and I could joke around with each other when we had been married that long.

George and Doris said their goodbyes and Ben and I were alone together. I gave him the hug that I’d wanted to since he came through the door.

“Hey kid,” he protested, “I’m back safe and sound, aren’t I?”

I buried my face in my husband’s shirtfront. I couldn’t say anything. I debated telling him about how I’d met Jenkins but decided not to. Sin City and everything that happened there was my past—New Orleans was my future. It was less than two weeks until Christmas and I wasn’t going to dampen my spirits by remembering events which would only give me pain.

The next morning, I awoke to find my husband giving me a massage. All the stress that I had been feeling for the last twelve hours seemed to melt from my bones, leaving me relaxed and aroused.

“What was that for?” I asked sleepily when he was done.

“You needed it,” Ben said. “Lemme ask you something. You knew Jenkins, right? I mean, in Sin City?”

“Yes, but he didn’t fuck me. He beat, whipped, and tortured me. If you can think of anything to do to a woman that will cause her pain, he probably did it to me.”

“I’ve never seen any scars…”

I scoffed. “He knew how exactly how to hit me so he wouldn’t not leave any. That’s why Momma let him use her girls. She didn’t want us ending up scarred and ugly after he was done. He paid her a mint and she kept her mouth shut. I’m glad the bastard’s dead.” I could feel myself starting to get angry and Ben took the hint.

“Forget about him, Sherry. This is all about you.”

“What is? Oh!” I shrieked when I felt Ben’s hot tongue encircle my clit. My legs spread wider as I felt his broad finger curl upwards inside of me, stroking my g-spot. In the exquisite pleasure that I experienced, nothing further than the sheets mattered to me.

I reciprocated by deep-throating Ben’s rock hard cock until my nose was buried in the rough, coarse hair around his dick. I inhaled the smell of utter maleness that emanated from him and wondered how a worthless whore like me ever got so lucky as to find a good man like him.

lll

Christmas morning saw Ben and I begin the day with a slow, lazy fuck. I was starting to really show now so we had to take things easy in bed. But taking it easy didn’t mean we still couldn’t have fun!

We’d both agreed that any gifts we decided to buy should be for the baby. However, I was surprised and delighted when I unwrapped a box and found a strand of pearls inside.

“George told me that he gave his wife this when she gave birth to their first child. I know I’m six months too early, but with the bonus we received at work for fulfilling that contract, I figured what the hell.”

I shyly pulled out a present that I’d stashed behind the tree. “I couldn’t resist getting you something either.” It wasn’t much, a knee-length black leather trench coat; much like the one he’d given me the night of Richard’s death to cover my blood-spattered dress. We hadn’t been able to take it with us and I thought Ben would like it.

“Babe, you’re the best,” he said, a warm smile lighting up his face and taking years away from him.

Thus began our first Christmas together. It would also be our last.