The chief called me in to his office. He made me somewhat perplexed, when the first thing he said was:” I’ve got use for you. Being quite young and new in town, none of the resident low-life, or even suspects, knows you’re a cop. In this case, that works in our favour. I’ve told one of the male officers to sell you to a local ring of slave-traders, so we can bust their illegal activities wide open, and bring them to justice. Preferably, before one of the legal ones, decides to take justice into the own hands. Vendettas are such messy things, and I’d rather not have them in my town, thank you very much. In this bag, you’ll find almost all the equipment you’ll need for this mission.” He handed me a bag, before continuing his briefing: “Put this on, and report to the garage-area ASAP!”
I looked at the contents in the bag. It was a blouse and pants, made of a very see-through material. ‘Is he serious?’ I thought. ‘If he hadn’t ordered me to, I’d have refused to wear it! Illegal slave-trader or not!
I reluctantly went to the women’s locker-room. Of course, it was located at the back of the station; so on the way back, I had to parade in front of everyone at the station, wearing next to nothing. I walked as fast as I could, but I could still feel the eyes of every male individual present in the room, following me.
Down in the garage, my hands were cuffed in front. I stepped into the back of a van, and attached to a short chain in the floor. The doors closed, and off we went. After what seemed like an eternity, they opened, and I found myself in a window-less warehouse filled with cages, almost everyone containing a gagged and chained-up girl. I too was gagged and made to sit down in one of the empty cages. My hands were attached to a chain, coming from the roof of the cage. The cage was so low, I had to bend over, which meant my hands were positioned, not only in front of me, but also above my head, making it look like I was worshiping.
The next day, the cages were loaded into a truck, and driven to a theatre-like building. There we were unloaded, and for the first time in many hours, I was allowed to stand up. Our cuffs were locked on to a long chain, and lead into a huge room, filled with people, sold off and lead away. By now, I was getting worried, as I couldn’t see any of my colleagues. Eventually, I was sold and bundled into the boot of a car, like a bag of groceries. Sometime later, the car stopped. The boot-lid opened, and I was taken into a room with bared windows.
Inside the room were several other girls, all dressed more or less like me. They all had their hands cuffed in front of them, but unlike me, the chain connecting their cuffs, were long. That meant they could perform their tasks, with minimal hindrance. Now, my chain was changed, to a longer one, my gag hidden behind a heavily embroidered veil, and assigned to the Master bedroom, where I was to spend my days.
I was given a “to-do” list, on top of which was to make their beds, help them change clothes, undressed before they went to bed, and dressed in the morning, and generally keep the room neat and tidy at all times. During the day, I was never, under any circumstances, allowed to leave the room, which meant my food had to be carried in there, by another slave. Meal-times were also the only times my face wasn’t veiled, and I wasn’t gagged. I slept on the cold concrete-floor, in the room with the bared windows.
The months passed, filled with boredom, interrupted by occasional activity. I was beginning to worry that I was never going to see my friends and family again. Many nights, I cried myself to sleep, something I hadn’t done since I was a little girl, afraid of the monsters lurking under the bed. But, unlike then, my father didn’t come to comfort me, and to chase them away.
After having been there for six months, I had become so used to the current order of things, I actually couldn’t remember any other way of life. I was a slave, always had been, and always would be one. That was the order of things.
One day, I heard raised voices outside the bed-room door. Suddenly the room was filled with policemen, pointing their guns at me. I put my hands in the air, as they told me to, and was led out of the house and into the back-seat of a waiting police-car. I was driven to the station, where the captain waited for me in his office. He regretted it having taken so long to get me free. He actually apologized for that, but apparently, someone had leaked vital information. They couldn’t do anything, until the situation was sorted. But now, they had everyone in custody; from the traders, all he way to some of the buyers, including mine. Then he asked me:”Sometime in the future, if I were to ask you; would you be willing to do this all over again?”
“Then I’d say I would. But only if you could promise me, you could get me out a lot sooner, the next time.”
“We’ll see.”