Slave-traders M/F

Postby lasse672000 » Sat Mar 24, 2012 10:34 am

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.”
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Slave-traders M/F

Postby Chase Ricks » Sun Mar 25, 2012 11:09 pm

Very nice Lasse.
From whence I came and whence I went heaven said I was too evil and sent me to hell. Demons and devils succeeded in breaking my soul.

Image

Re: Slave-traders M/F

Postby lasse672000 » Mon Mar 26, 2012 6:32 am

It was my day off, and I had planned to go down to the mall, to do some shopping. Fate had other planes in store, though. As I walked down the road, to catch the bus, I heard a car stopping behind me, and a door opening. I kept on walking, not giving it a second thought, until I heard voice hissing in my ear.
“So, you’re a cop, are you? And you thought you could get away from us that easily, did you? Well, let me tell you, you can’t! Once our property, always our property! “Strong arms grabbed me from behind, and bundled me into the boot of the car. The lid closed with a bang and the car sped off, with screeching tyres.
Sometime later, the car stopped and the boot-lid opened. Light flooded in, and I was ordered to step out of the compartment. I was more or less dragged into a small room, where my clothes were forcefully removed (ripped from my body), and I was ordered to put on the same type of clothes, as last time. I was cuffed and put in a cage, just as confining as the one used the last time, and sent off to the auction-house. This time, though, I spent a couple of days there, before the sale. I was the last “item” to be sold, and the one buying me, (for a ridiculously low sum, I might add) was a huge man, looking very much like a cross between a heavy-weight wrestler and a prison-guard. He removed my handcuffs, and forcefully tied my hands behind my back. “Don’t even think your friends in the police-force will come to your rescue this time, lady!” he snarled. “They won’t find out where you are. Not in a million years.”

He lived isolated in a shanty, way out in the woods. I was to sleep directly on the freezing floor of a room at the back, behind the kitchen, with no way of getting to the door, without him noticing it. He locked a long, heavy chain around my waist, using a heavy padlock. The key, he put in his pocket. The chain was long enough to let me move around inside, but not outside. It was attached to a large ring, set in an even larger slab of concrete in the middle of the house. He untied my hands, told me to put my hands in front of me, and put the cuffs back on. He even cuffed my feet, using the same type of heavy cuffs, he’d already used on my wrists. This guy had really gone overboard, trying to stop me from running away! Who did he think I was? Some kind of escape artist, a la Harry Houdini? To top it off, he gagged me using a round piece of wood, buckled behind my head. It looked kind of like a bridle.
He put a broom in my hands, and ordered me to start cleaning the place up. I looked around me, in despair. Where would I start? Everywhere I looked, I saw huge piles of dirt. It would take weeks, just to get this place half-decent, even if I worked seven days a week. I decided to start with the work-tops in the kitchen, and slowly work my way towards the door.

As I suspected, it took me ages, just to get the kitchen and the floors clean. Him dragging in tons of dirt every time he went out, only made my job that much harder. On top of trying to keep the place clean, I had to cook his meals and wash his clothes. As I couldn’t go outside to hang them on the clothesline, I had to try to get them dry inside.

One day, he said: “OK! Time’s up! Let’s get you to the next place.” He put the handcuffs back on, behind my back, took the chain around my waist off, and led me to his car. As much as I enjoyed the feeling of being free of the heavy chain, for the first time in all this time, I couldn’t help wondering, what the future had in store.
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Slave-traders M/F

Postby lasse672000 » Mon Mar 26, 2012 8:56 am

I would soon find that out. He drove me to a big house, leaving me at the front-door. I had to knock on the door somehow, as he couldn’t be bothered. After a few tries, the door opened and I was let in. The man, who had opened, said: “So; you’re our new attraction, are you? Let me have a look at you!”
He grabbed my arms, and turned me around, inspecting me thoroughly, from top to bottom. When he saw the gag in my mouth, he said: “Girl! That might be practical for everyday-use, but for what I had in mind for you, it simply won’t do at all! I’ll have to supply you with a new one, for those SPECIAL occasions. Now, let me take you to your room.” He grabbed me by the arm, and directed me to a secluded part of the house. There, I was given a proper room, albeit small and with a barred door and window, but still! No more sleeping on a dirty floor! He took off my plain old cuffs, let me position my hands in front of me, and then replaced them with leather ones, almost completely covered with gemstones. He did the same with my ankles. Even the chain between them sparkled. To top it off, he took out the bit-gag, let me massage some life back into my jaw, and put a heavily embroidered cleave-gag in my mouth. To top it off, he put a heavily gemstone-encrusted collar around my neck. I was told my only function in that house would be decorative. When he saw the question in my eyes, he said:”Here, let me show you!”

He took me back outside, to the gates. On top of the wide stone-pillars on either side, were two iron-X: s, maybe 6 or 7 feet tall leaning out at a slight angle. Four cuffs were attached to each of them. He pointed at them and needlessly said: “Do you see them? Every time I throw a party, which is at least once or twice week, you’ll be tied to one of those, as a living ornament. There, of course, will be a boy tied to the other one. Around each of your necks, will be signs made of iron hanging, saying something like ’Welcome to the party”. My heart started racing, when I saw the height of the gates and pillars. They, in themselves, were 10 feet tall! At least! Adding up the feet, I would be pretty far off the ground! Luckily, I’m not afraid of heights. Not much, anyway.
“You will up there, until all the guests have arrived. Then someone will come and help you down, and the rest of the evening, you will help the others serving drinks and food. Remember; never ever” and he emphasized those words by waving his index-finger around in the air” look anyone at the party right in the eye! Always, look straight down. Sometimes you can direct your eyes at a slight upwards angle, but never straight ahead. After all, you have to see where you’re going, haven’t you? But, if you break the rule more than once, you lose the privilege of being a sign-bearer. For a while, anyway.”
I tried giving him a reassuring smile, despite the cleave-gag. He must have seen it in my eyes, because he smiled back, before taking me back to the house.

I didn’t have to wait long, to prove my worth, because that evening, was the first time I acted a “living sign post”. I was helped up a ladder to the top of the left pillar, then, using a stool, a climbed up to a temporary platform, and on to two small permanent ones on either side of the X. My ankles were cuffed, and I lifted my arms so they could be cuffed to the top of it. When it was finished, my arms and legs were spread as far apart as possible. The iron sign was then hung around my neck in a broad leather strap. To finish it off, a band of steel was locked around my waist, taking most of the load off my shoulders and wrists. I looked over, and saw a boy about my age, being cuffed to the X on the other side. The temporary platform was taken away, and I was left alone.

Soon, the guests started arriving. I could hear the appreciative remarks they made, as to the unusual welcoming-committee. That made me, for the first time in months, really enjoy my new life! After about an hour, we were helped down, had our hands cuffed in front of us and taken back to the house. There someone put a drinks-tray in my hands and told me to go out and distribute them among the guests. When that was done, another tray was put in my hands, this time with a meat-dish for the dinner. I spent the rest of the evening, running to and from the kitchen or the drinks table.
It was well past midnight, when the last of the guests left. We were lined up, had our collars attached to a long chain, and led away to our rooms, cuffed to our beds, sleeping-masks put over our eyes and then the doors were locked.
Whazzzz up!.