A slave traders work is never done.

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Jayne Seamer was an ace reporter who through her investigations had managed to have a few villains caught. She was so good at it that when things were quiet, which wasn’t often, she did a little private detective work. That was until she too disappeared. The police think that some villains had killed her to get their own back on her for wrecking their plans. Even a reward of £10,000 didn’t make any difference. The papers even added another £50,000 to that, but there was no response. Jayne had to be dead.

The papers started to arrange a memorial service for Jayne. But in truth they still hoped she would turn up. What happened to Jayne? I will explain. She is helping me and my partners to make money. We hope to make a lot from her. We should do, she is a gorgeous redhead with a body women would die for. I know I would. She stands at six foot.

xxxx

My name is Ruth Broughton. I run this fabulously fun money making business under the cover of a health spa. Jayne came into my spa salon one day. I recognised her straight away from her appearances on the television. (Her hotel had phoned me to warn me about her. I told them to di the usual. That was give the customer a card to fill in and file it). I had to smile at the pleas from the TV newsreaders and the Crimewatch program. I knew where she was at the time. But now she could be anywhere.

That fateful day I pretended not to know her and had one of my girls give her a full body massage. She was quite impressed. But it did make her relax. She told the girl she was staying in the hotel for a few weeks. She was investigating the disappearance of a dozen girls in the last month and wanted to know if anybody had heard anything.

Anyway, that session finished, Jayne wanted to know what other services we gave. I think she was hoping to find we ran a brothel behind the shop. Instead we gave her a booklet on our services. Jayne was interested in the wrapping service.

I sat and explained that the wrapping works best over a six week session of once a week. Week 1, it’s a plain cling film wrap. Week 2 to 5 is a wrap but the body is coated in oils first. Week 6 the body is smothered in a cream made from sea weed. The person is then wrapped and given a drink to purge the impurities from the body. Jayne seemed interested and booked in for later that week.

The day Jayne was to be wrapped, she stripped naked and the girls wrapped her from head to toe in cling film. Only her nose and mouth was free. Then she was taken into the steam room and left for 30 minutes. After which she was taken out of the room, had the cling film removed and sprayed with ice cold water. Jayne jumped when it hit her. But after she was dried with a rough towel, she admitted she felt wonderful. I put a star beside her name in my book. To everybody else it was to say she wanted to have the full service. To me it meant something different. It meant she would mean money.

Weeks 2 to 5 went by. Jayne loved the treatment. She said her skin felt softer. I told her I was glad she enjoyed it. Her response was once she finished the course, she would recommend it to everyone. That of course made it more imperative Jayne disappeared before she could tell everyone.

Week 6. Jay came into the shop carrying her cases. She would have the treatment and as she had found nothing, had checked out of the hotel, came here and would catch a train home straight away. That was handy as it saved the manager destroying her card in the hotel. He was going to have to say she never stopped there, but now she had checked out. She did the job for us.

Again, Jayne stripped and awaited her attendant to smother her with the sea weed cream. Once that was done she was wrapped in cling film. When the girls finished that layer, they started another. Jayne asked why two layers of wrap. “Because the cream softens the wrap and sometimes spills out. So we put a few layers on just I case” Jayne accepted that. But she did point out that they hadn’t wrapped her head. “You haven’t had the purgative yet” Jayne smiled.

I gave Jayne the drink and took her into the steam room. In no time she stated to feel drowsy. “The wrap seems to be getting tighter” she moaned. “That’s because you are expelling all the impurities from your body. Everyone says the same thing. But you will notice the difference once you are released from the wrap” She never realised she had been shrink wrapped. The sea weed cream keeps the body moist for the journey.

“I can’t move” Jayne cried. So I told her. She had been shrink wrapped. The drink was really a relaxant that stopped her struggling. Two of the girls took duct tape and wrapped some around her ankles, her thighs, he body and arms and the top of her arms and body. It wasn’t really necessary, but was just and insurance in case she managed to get free.

Jayne watched as the girls brought her cases in. “Where are you going with them?” she asked. I told her they are going with her. I didn’t tell her she would never see her clothes again. They would be sold off elsewhere. Jayne was put onto a stretcher. They carried her to a waiting container where Jayne say a dozen girls all taped to a frame. They were all standing up. Jayne went to scream but found a cloth stuck in her mouth. They wrapped cling film all around her head leaving her nose and eyes clear. They wrapped duct tape around the mouth ensuring Jayne could not push the cloth out. “When you get to the customs, you will be given an injection to make you sleep so no one hears you. They don’t check lorries leaving, just those coming into the country. I believe you may finish up in the Middle East at the auction. We should get a good price for you".

Jayne was stood up against the frame and taped to it like the others. “There should be more next month. I’ll contact you when they are ready. It’s been slack this month” I told the lorry driver as he locked the container door. That was the last time I saw Jayne. I stood and watched as the lorry trundled of down the road heading for the slave markets of the Middle or Far East. I didn’t know where, nor did I care. As long as I got my money. Oh well, it's back to the salon to find another candidate to send out. I didn’t now nor care how they are treated. All I wanted to know was how long and how much would it be before I got paid. The beauty of my salon is the girls pay me to turn them into slaves. A slave traders work is never done.

Jayne’s story.

How long we were in the lorry for I don’t know as we were knocked out by the injection. We would soon know. It started to get hot so we realised we must be in the Middle East. The doors were flung open and the light hit us. None of us could stop them from releasing us from the frame. We were unceremoniously carried down to an open space. I looked round. There were tents all around and a dozen posts sticking up out of the sand. We were unwrapped and hosed down, then fastened by our ankles to the post. We were given food and water. After that, one by one we were allowed to use the space they had left for the toilet. We had a heavy weight attached to our ankles so we couldn’t run away. As one went back to the camp, another was released. When I got back I noticed the earlier ones were now held in chains above their heads. I too was fastened like this. Once the last girl came back, a cry went out and from the tents men came out.

Soon we were surrounded by ugly men who checked our teeth and fondled our breasts and other parts of the body. Then the bidding started. One by one the girls were bought. I was last. The bidding went up to 20,000 U.S dollars. The auctioneer was about to say sold when another cry went up 21,000 U.S dollars. Nobody else bid so I was sold to a swarthy looking gentleman.
“Oh dear, you have got the worse one you could have” the auctioneer said. I asked why. “A woman has bought you. You will have a life of misery now. I wish you well. They say that if her slaves upset her they bury them up to their necks in the sand and leave them. She has got through quite a few”

I had a steel collar fitted around my neck. Chains went down to my wrists which were shackled. A chain went down to the ankle shackles to keep the chain from dragging on the floor. All the shackles and collar was riveted closed. I was dragged into a tent. There at the far end was my keeper.

“Welcome to your new life” she said in broken English, “We will be leaving in the morning. Your clothes have been sent to the Far East as you won’t be wearing any again. Do not try to escape as you will be surrounded by desert. You will be punished most severely. Your job is to serve me in any way I wish. You will be expected to entertain the men visitors as well. You may not be prepared for this, but now you are nothing. You belong to me. I want my money’s worth from you. I love watching women being penetrated by men”

I shut my eyes and hoped I was having a nightmare. I thought of being buried in sand. But when I opened my eyes again she was still there looking at me. “You will not talk. You will bow when I ask you to do something. Now go and fill my bath with water from the oasis”. A guard walked with me to the oasis. Backwards and forward I went until the bath was full. She slipped out of her robe and stepped into the bath. “Bath me”. As I did, I dreaded the rest of my life in slavery. Would I ever be rescued?