Chapter 1 - Captive

 

"Dad, I appreciate your concerns. I am nineteen, twenty next month, and I can look after myself. You taught me well, but it is very important to me, to see for myself the differences between, lifestyles, in what we laughingly call, The Civilised World, and the tribal world. What is life like here in England, good, or do we think, it is good. Have we been conditioned into believing life here, is good? The only way I will ever find out, is by going on this gap year, and seeing for myself," Felicity had argued, as she planned her gap year.

"I do not object to a gap year. Go into industry; find out what life is like, for the blue collar workers, as opposed to the regimented life, of army barracks, and in the officer's quarters. We live, a good life. I have seen the tribal people when I have been abroad, for Queen and Country.

I have seen the people, their lives, the squalor they have to live in, and it is something your mother and I, have tried to protect you from. I worked my way up from a soldier, to a Colonel in the British army. I worked hard to become something, and it was not to be somebody, but so that we would never have to face life, in poverty.

All I want for you, is to follow me, and as a professor, which is what you wanted, you will be set, for life," Her dad had used as an argument, to change her mind from going into villages and tribes in various countries, and putting herself unnecessarily in danger, he thought.

"Dad, I am doing social studies. Studying lives and societies and how a society affects our lives. How they all vary, and inter react on each other. We impose our values on the tribes of Africa, they are barbarians, savages, and our way is better. Is it? How do we know? I want to see for myself, if that is correct? Because I do not believe that it is.

Don't tell me that we are not being controlled. You have been ordered about all your working life that was your choice, and you have done very well, for yourself. I do not knock you, or the system. It obviously works, for some people, but why, should a tribe, in Africa say, have to buy a car, or go to church?

Because we decided that they are a necessity? Why do they have to conform, to our rules? Do they have impoverished lives? Or, are their lives richer ones, because they don't have to live in little boxes, in smog filled cities. I want to make my own mind up, and you were the one that made me, so forceful. Made me have a mind of my own. So don't try and make me what I am not. I am going on a world tour, to see life as it really, is," Felicity said forcefully, yet smiling at, her dad.

"Guess I made you too independent. Go with my blessing, but you ring me, every night, without fail," he said, accepting defeat willingly. He accepted that he had made the point, and Felicity, had argued back, with passion, and a good strong argument. He also accepted that he was the one to encourage her to be independent, but it was in the genes that had made her, so head strong

The trip was to begin in the northern hemisphere, and she was going south, so that by the end of the summer, she would be in the southern hemisphere, staying the whole time in spring or summer, wherever in the world she was. She had organised it to visit villages in Africa, tribal settlements in Sumatra, the Amazon rain forests, and a village in Australia, and in America, covering as big a variety of life styles, and social conditions, as possible.

Felicity, started her journey in Europe, seeing life in villages and towns across Europe, going east, into Russia, and then down into China. She was hitch hiking and using public transport for the journey, staying for a week or there about, in each different village whilst in Europe, but longer, in the tribal villages. So far, she had travelled into Bulgaria.

Felicity, had been walking for hours, she knew that this part of her trip wouldn't be easy, but had never thought that it would be, this hard. The sun was high in the sky and it was hot, they were in an unusually long heat wave, and it was very humid.

She trudged along with her heavy rucksack of clothes. She was fit, very fit, exercising with the men, as they trained in the army camp, her family lived in.

Either side of her, were the high cliffs of the mountains, green fields ran along both sides of the road, with a stream in the base of the valley.

As she had visited the villages, she had been received with a warm welcome, and they had given her a gift, with which to remember her visit, so clothing now was just part of her heavy rucksack, the bulk of the weight had been created by the volume of gifts she had been given, an unexpected, but appreciated part, of the trip.

Once she reached her next stop, she had decided that she would parcel them up, and post them home, and then continue on her journey, with a much lighter load.

All her school life, she had been top of the class, she worked for it, and studied hard, and it had paid off, now, she was on her dream holiday.

At nineteen, going on twenty, she was a studious person, yet she was also an attractive person, not that they cannot go together, in her, they most certainly did, and she had several young men interested in her, but she had little, or no time for them. Her studies came first. This did not mean that she didn't have a boyfriend, although currently she didn't, she had, had boyfriends, and as many romances as any young lady would and should have, but her studies always, came first.

She had been a Tom Boy as a child, climbing trees, that was how she broke her arm, for the first time, some of her friends said that the tree couldn't be climbed, so she took the bet and showed them that it could be, until she fell. Returning six weeks later to climb it, proving them wrong, and that she would not be beaten. Her father, an army officer, had taught her how to look after herself, in a fight, she was cock of the school, beating up any of the lads if they pushed her, too far.

The second time she broke her arm, she was playing football, and fell awkwardly, just a fractured radius, but it meant six more weeks, in plaster.

Felicity, stood in her stocking feet at five feet nine inches, she was average for her sex, and as an active person in sports, and general activities, and she had kept herself trim and slim. She was the cock of the school, yet demure at the same time, quite an odd combination, tough, and very sexy.

She was very pretty, with classical features; as you looked down from her face she had a well-developed bust, firm and well-rounded, a trim waist, and firm rounded hips. All her friends at school suggested that a job in the fashion industry as a model, should have been on the cards, as well, but she liked the outdoors, climbing, rummaging around, meeting people of different backgrounds, directing her into social studies, which she now studied, with relish.

It fascinated her, and now she was taking a year out of her studies, to see totally different communities, close up. To meet as per arrangement social scientists in various countries, and see for herself the different social strata's and social structures of people and communities, in their natural, surroundings.

"Why go like that when you can fly, from destination to destination," her mum had suggested, worried about her safety, as much as anything.

"But mum? This way I can also see how the sociology of the country, affects the people's lives, first hand. I can talk to the people, and ask questions. How can I do that, at thirty five thousand feet? The way the social structure inter phases with the people, and the demands it makes, on them. These things you need to see, and talk to the people whom it affects. You can not get that, from a book, no matter how hard, you try," she argued back.

So back packing, and hitch hiking was to be her means of transport, each night, she rang home to tell them that she had arrived at her next port of call, for safety reasons, and her evening destinations had been booked prior, to her leaving.

She had allowed extra time for this leg. It was out in the wilds of Bulgaria, a mountainous region, with very few villages, and as she had found out, very little in the way of transport. It was to be a long walk in the heat of mid-summer, loaded down with gifts.

She hadn't seen a car, or any kind of vehicle for that matter, for over an hour now, and as agreed, she had stuck to the main road. It was just a desolate area, she hoped that her mobile phone, would work here.

'Ah well. Just another two miles and I will be there, late, but there,' she thought, as she trudged along.

It had been a very interesting day, and she had stopped several times, to talk to people. Using her phrase book, but she had been lucky, in that, several times, she happened to speak to someone who could speak English or French, her two languages. Or, who knew someone, who could translate for her. So it wasn't just the distance and lack of lifts that had delayed her. She had left the road and stopped to talk to a farmer, in the fields. Which had taken several minutes, or more, each time she had left the road, they always seemed to have a drink, for her, or food in the farm house, with the farmer's wife.

She heard a car coming, and stuck her thumb out, only two miles, but the back pack was very heavy now, and she was tired, her legs ached from the distance she had walked, so a lift would have been appreciated.

The car pulled up, and he wound down the window.

"Hi I'm just going to the next village, but I am tired, so a lift would be appreciated, if you don't mind?" she asked, then thought he may not speak English.

"No problem, get in. I am also going through the next town. Where, are you staying?" he asked, as she put her rucksack on the back seat, and then got in the car.

"Sorry, I can't pronounce it, there," she said, showing him the address of the hotel she had booked into.

"A very nice place. She will look after you. Are you on holiday?" he asked, making conversation.

"Yes, back packing for a year. I left home three months ago, and have another nine months left. In which I want to see the world, sociologically speaking, that is," she said, enthusiastically.

He pulled over, she got anxious. She had been warned not to take lifts from single men in cars, but she was so tired, and he seemed nice enough, and he was a lot smaller, than her, and she could look after herself, her dad, had seen to that.

He leaned over into the back, and pulled a bottle of orange juice out.

"You look as though you need a drink. It is very hot today, you might deydr, de, be thirsty," he said cheerfully.

"Oh yes, thank you. That is very kind of you, fresh orange juice, hum," she said, taking a big drink, and smiling at him.

He smiled, and said, "Ok, we carry on now, you can keep the drink. I will get some at home when I get there. I live in the village further on, but have to go through your village, first," he said cheerfully.

"Thank, th," that was all she said, as she fell asleep in the car.

He looked at the girl now sleeping peacefully beside him, and pulled over to the side of the road. He got out, and checked around to see if anyone was watching him first. Then he went to the boot of his car, and took out a couple of lengths of rope. He opened the passenger door, and pushed, Felicity, onto her side across the front seats. He took an arm and put it behind her back, then put the other one beside it, and tied them together. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the boot, where he laid her down gently, and then tied her ankles together. Finally, he gagged her, and closed the boot lid.

Satisfied that she was now his captive. He got back in the driver's seat, and continued his journey.

He drove through the next town, and on through the next one, the drug was good for a couple of hours, or more, so he knew he had plenty of time, she wouldn't wake up for two hours, at least, and even then, she would be very drowsy for the rest of the night.

He had already brought a girl in, this was his second of the day, and he spotted this one, just as he was about to give up, and go home. He actually, did live in the next village, but now continued on up the mountain side, on a side road. He turned left off that road onto another smaller road, a single track road, which soon became a dirt track. After about five minutes' drive up the dirt track, he turned again into the drive of a large house. He stopped the car by the front door, got out and rang the bell.

The door was answered by an overweight woman, she had a cigarette in her mouth to one side and looked at the man, with disdain.

"Yes," she said looking past him, at the car.

"I have a parcel for you. Where would you like me to put it? In the usual place," he replied, casually.

"Another one? My you have been working hard, ok, follow me," she said, removing the cigarette, and exhaling.

She turned and walked down the hallway, whilst he opened the boot and lifted the sleeping girl onto, his shoulder. The woman had opened the door to the under the stairs, which led down to the cellar, and had returned to close the front door, behind him.

Then she led the way down into the cellar. She turned right at the bottom of the stairs, along a short corridor to the door at the far end. He followed her, she unlocked and opened the door, and he followed her into another short, narrow corridor. There were three doors on their left, she opened the middle one. The man, pushed past her in the narrow space, and dumped the prone body on the cot. He laid her out on her side and then tied her wrists to a ring in the wall and her ankles to the metal bare of the bed. They left her to sleep the drug off, locking the doors as they left, and then returned up to her kitchen.

He sat at the table, and she put the kettle on, making them both a cup of tea, into which she poured a healthy amount, of whiskey. Then handed him, the mug.

"You deserve that, she is a pretty one. I will make a note of the two. We owe you one thousand, unless of course, they are virgins, and then, it is doubled," she said pulling a note book out of the drawer, and writing, in it.

"She was walking, with a rucksack. What do you want me to do with the rucksack?" he asked.

"Keep it. She won't need it now. Sell what you can," she said, with a shrug of her shoulders, not caring, then adding, "What did you find out, about her?"

"She is travelling alone on a gap year. She is booked into the hotel in the town, but I will deal with that, so she will not be missed, for a good week. By which time she will belong to us. If she isn't a virgin. Can I have her? I would like to, fuck her," he said, almost drooling at the thought.

"I'll see Bill about that. I don't see why not. He will be, as will several of the other men, as we break her into her new way of life, as a drugged up, prostitute," she said, and laughed.

The man drank his tea, and got up to leave, as the front door opened and a man entered, he was six feet two, and had broad shoulders, his head was shaved and he looked a nasty, brutally, hard man.

"He has brought us two, and the last one is very pretty. You'll like her. She is in cell, R two," the woman said.

"Very nice. Nice tits?" the man said, as a question?

"I couldn't see them," she replied, and they looked at the man.

"Very nice. Round and firm looking, but she did have a coat on, but they bulged, so yes," he replied.

The man went down the stairs into the cellar and to, Felicity's cell. He opened the hatch and looked at the prone, Felicity, in the dim light. He smiled even from that little light, he could tell that she was going to be valuable, in the prostitution market.

He gazed at her for a few moments, then picked up a length of rope and entered her cell. He tied her elbows together tight, then pushed her back on her side and tied them to the far rail, of the bed and left her to sleep off the effects, of the drug.

"Very tasty, and yes. She does have well developed tits, nice and proud. In future tie their elbows together that will pull their shoulders back, and push their tits out. It will make it easier when I go down to evaluate them, from the hatch," he said, and sat down at the table.

The woman made dinner for them. They ate it then she went down to feed the girls in cells L1 and 3.

"We need to begin training the first, new girl, and carry on with the other one, I'll have her, first," Bill said, a smile creased his face, as he thought about, fucking them.

Later in the evening, they went down again, the man removed his trousers and leaned back on a padded board, angled, for comfort. The woman put a syringe in a locked cage by his side, and then opened, cell L1, and let the girl out.

She looked enviously at the syringe in the cage, he looked at her.

"You want that, don't you? Getting the shakes, are you?" he asked pointedly, "You know what you have to do for it, don't you?"

The girl was in her late teens, early twenties. She had long black hair that had been cropped short when they captured her, by the woman. It was meant to change her, make her accept that her body, every inch of it, now belonged to them, and they could do as they wished.

Her hair had natural curls, even with the cropping of her hair done very amateurishly, by the woman, it still had a natural sheen, from years of looking after it. Her body was a good shape with proud breasts, tipped with a brown nipple that stood proud.

A trim waist and perhaps a little heavy hips, but still well within being a good, shapely body. The woman had shaved the girl's clit, and the doctor had examined her, to see if she were still a virgin, she wasn't, which meant that they could abuse her, as he was about, to do.

The girl removed her clothes, and knelt between his legs. She took his dick in her mouth, and began to give him oral sex. Looking up into his face as she sucked on his dick. She moaned, she smiled, and made noises of appreciation, as she sucked on his dick. She rubbed the base of his cock as she sucked on it, and slid her lips up and down the shaft. She made him rigid, and then stood up and opened her legs and straddled him. She bent at the knees and lowered her clit down onto his dick in a slow movement, taking him all in, in the one, long, slow movement.

She settled on his lap, and seemed to move her hips, making sure that he was all inside her. She began to rise and fall, in long, slow movements. Slow, easy rises and falls then faster and faster, until she was ramming him into her cunt as hard and fast as she could do. Moaning and groaning, as if she were enjoying it.

She had no choice. If she wanted the next fix, her next injection of Heroin, which, he had now got her hooked on, by small doses, over a period. Until she was a drug addict, and he had made her that way. She had to perform, fuck him, until he shot his load, or pushed her away spurting his load on the floor and making her, lick it up.

She had no choice, it was sex in exchange for her next fix, and she needed, the fix. She was now going into withdrawal symptoms, so what choice, did she have? She rode him on and on until he shot his load into her, and then she got off him, and looked longingly, at the cage.

"She can have it," he said, and got dressed, whilst the woman gave the girl, her the injection.

"What about L3? She isn't under yet, do you want her? She is tough, we haven't broken her yet," the woman said, when she returned after locking the girl back in her cell.

"No, we will save her for morning. She will serve as a lesson to our two new ones, don't open their cells, or put the light on, till I say. We will leave them in the dark, it will help break them," he said.

The man and the woman left the cellar, and went to watch some television, before retiring, for the night. There was no emotion left in the pair of them, just the greed they had, for money. The agonies of their victims, were wasted on them, they were dead, emotionally.

There was a thriving market, for young women, and fresh prostitutes were needed regularly, as the ones already enslaved, over dosed, or caught a sexually transmitted disease. Treatment, cost money, involved authorities, and lost money till they were clean. Fresh blood was cheaper, in the long run.