It was three weeks and Louise hadn't returned to work. I was missing her; she is a beauty and always has a smile on her face. She and her sister were one of the reasons that I came to work each day. I was older, closer in age to her father, actually and she used my experience as a knowledgebase for her day to day activities. We had daily discussions about American life as it applied to school age kids and young adults. We discussed social events that kids in their teens experienced. Things like dating, selecting a boyfriend, relationships with parents, relatives and other students. How different races entered into the social balance of the schools and community in general. She and Natalie, along with her family, were emigrated from a Thailand refugee camp. Although raised in the United States the girls were raised to be very traditional, associating mainly with their families and other Hmong countrymen. As they grew through the U.S. school system, they learned very little of the American customs that we as Americans take for granted.
I asked Natalie about Louise and she was noncommittal, and offered little conversation about Louise. I knew to back off and they would get around to me in due time. I knew that she had been through a lot with her abduction and rape. She would be concerned about her plight being spread around the factory. The Hmong have no lives and are free to gossip about anything of interest. And abduction and rape are tantalizing topics of discussion among them. I've even heard of grandparents ratting out their grandchildren when there was some good gossip to be had. I think it was this fact that attracted the sisters to me. I wasn't in their social network and would never divulge any personal information about the young women to anyone. And they told me plenty of stuff that would not bear repeating.
All I could do was to be there for them and make sure that they knew it. I didn't have too long to wait. It was three weeks after the incident that I was going in to work when Louise stopped me in the parking lot. She was alone and came up to me and threw her arms around my neck in a tight embrace. I pulled her to me, firmly hugging her to my body for a moment and then disengaging myself from her to avoid anyone stumbling across us so closely together, and feeding the gossip mill.
I looked at her and could plainly see that she had lost a lot of weight since the last time that I saw her, at her house. This was devastating since she only weighed ninety pounds before her incident. The smile was not on her face as I was accustomed to seeing, and she had tears welling up in her eyes. Without a word, I led her into my car; we left the parking lot and drove to a restaurant about a mile away. We entered and found a table in the closed section of the dining room and took up the seat. It was a booth and we were obscured from the others that were eating breakfast on the other side of the restaurant.
Her tears started flowing as Louise started telling me of her weeks of humiliation, both at the hands of her kidnappers and then later as her husband ridiculed her, calling her a black cum slut, and a whore for black cock. I sat across the table as my anger grew while she told me of the things that were done to her for the two weeks that she was in captivity. Then she went on to describe how her husband treated her like a dog when she had returned. He would not touch her except to hit and abuse her, making her retell what her captors had done to her in detail while calling her a slut and suggesting that she liked to be treated as a slave. As he forced her to tell him of some of their activities, he did the same things to her that the rapists did to her. He tied her down and masturbated her to a climax against her will and laughed as she cried and then erupted in an unwanted climax. To her husband, he was convinced that Louise was indeed a slut. He immediately punished her again for her wantonness. I could see that Louise felt abandoned and untouchable as she relayed her story to me. I arose and moved next to her in the booth that we shared and put my arm around her shoulders in a firm embrace and she cuddled into my body like a cowering child would do with her mother. I stroked her face and brushed the tears from her eyes as I whispered that I would take care of her. I kissed her on the head and we sat in the booth holding each other for a long time. I gently caressed her soft, young body as she nestled herself into me as she looked up into my eyes. She saw my tears welling up and slightly overflowing down my cheeks as I contemplated her pain at the hands of her kidnappers but mostly that of her husband. She trusted him to take care of her and he betrayed her to the kidnappers and then ridiculed her for the insults forced upon her. She had been beaten into submission by the person that she trusted the most. Then he kicked her out of the house. He couldn't look at her. She was defiled and filthy in his eyes, certainly not any wife that he could be proud of. To him, she was a worn out fuck bunny for black cock, that he would never fuck again.
I took her to my house and told her that she could stay with me for as long as she wanted to. I cooked some eggs and fed her explaining that she was wasting away and needed some nourishment. She gobbled the eggs that I prepared and I took her to the bedroom. She appeared to be improving as she now had a full stomach. I helped her undress and she did not resist as I stripped her down to her underwear and left her to finish undressing and take a shower. I returned to the bedroom while she was in the shower and put a towel and a bathrobe on to the bed for her to use when she finished and waited for her in the kitchen.