Eighty One - Laura's Story Pt. 12

39

Laura arrived home slightly later than planned, she stayed on at the office to finish some work and the traffic that evening had been unbearable. She noticed that it often seemed to be worse on a Thursday. That was the trouble with living close to the city, an accident or roadworks and you were stuck; the whole area could be gridlocked in no time at all. She was in a good mood: although typical of many others, her day had been both productive and enjoyable. She sorted out a creative solution to a problem job that had been bugging her for some time. Meeting Olivia for a long lunch with lots of catching up and gossip finished things off nicely. Even so, she would be glad to get out of her work clothes, take a long shower and slob out for the evening.

She and Oscar had the house to themselves: Andrew had 'gone to help a friend cut some trees down', or so he said. To Laura it sounded more like an excuse to lop off a branch or two and then sit watching sport on the television whilst consuming vast amounts of beer, but she didn't mind in the least. The men were having takeaway curry, so no cooking for her, she had the rest of the night to herself. Bliss.

There had been a strange aura about her life since the ending of the game. Having heard nothing from anybody connected with Oakham since Amelia and The Colonel left her earlier in the week, an unsettling emptiness seemed to be ever present. There was still the outstanding pawn and queen to find but so far there were no clues to follow. And of course, hanging over her, there was still the dread of the whole experience coming to an end. That unwanted thought had been banished from her mind too many times to recall.

She could only just squeeze her car past the white van parked in the driveway. Great, Andrew didn't think his friend had an open fire so they wouldn't want the wood. Laura loved their wood burning stove and, in the depths of Winter would be almost sitting on top of it. After locking the car she went over to see how they were getting on. "Andrew, I'm back, where are you?" she called.

The side door slid open. A hefty push into her back knocked her forward and she fell onto her knees inside the van. Unseen hands grabbed her wrists and held them tightly behind her back.

"What the hell are you doing?" she screamed, "Let me go." Despite her violent struggling she was no match for their strength and a cloth bag was easily forced over her head and the cord tightened around her neck. Her continued screaming and threats had no effect on her assailants. Their efficiency seemed well practised.

The van started to move. After slowly backing out of the driveway they made steady progress down the road. An ordinary van on an ordinary journey--nothing unusual to attract attention. Laura's panic increased as she felt cords being tied around her wrists and ankles. Her desperate attempts to free her arms and kick out with her legs were taking their toll: she was tiring rapidly and the cord was biting into her neck causing her to choke. Once her arms and legs were tied the hands released her. She tried another futile attempt to kick out at something--anything--but her movement was so restricted she could only flap about like a landed fish.

"Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded. There was no response. She could hear their voices, so they must be able to hear her. She repeated herself, "I said what do you want and where are you taking me?" Still nothing. She gave up the pointless exercise and lay still on the floor.

They began to stop more often and she heard other engines, car horns and voices. They must be going into the city. During the journey her panic had subsided to be replaced by anger and fear. She felt tears trickle down her cheek and the cloth become damp and cold. "You've no right to do this, where are you taking me?" She demanded once more, between sobs. Still no response.

Her main fear was of the unknown, who the people were, what they wanted and where they were taking her. Concern for her personal well being took second place. They had, after all, not used excessive force or injured her. What did strike her was that they were professionals. A bunch of armatures would have been excited about pulling it off, they would have been congratulating themselves, telling her to keep quiet and taunting her. She was sure they had done it all before.

When the van finally came to a halt Laura held her breath, and waited. She strained her hearing, desperate for any clue which would indicate her whereabouts. She heard the door slide open and hands dragged her across the floor of the van. Strong arms lifted her out before letting her stand once more. Somebody removed the rope from around her ankles. She felt fingers grip the cloth bag and pull her forward. Bending slightly she moved in the direction of the pull. With her arms secured behind her she feared stumbling forward with no way to break her fall.

A door opened, they passed through and then it shut with a loud clang--a metal door--perhaps an industrial building? They made their way along a corridor, she heard the echo of her heels on stone or concrete. Another door opened and she was guided inside. Pushed backwards she felt a chair against the back of her knees. "Sit," the well spoken female voice ordered. "Now, we're going to remove the bag. Don't bother shouting, screaming or begging. You don't know where you are and nobody's coming to save you."

Even though the room was dimly lit it took a few seconds to open her eyes fully. After some blinking her sight returned to normal. The woman sitting at a table in front of her was well dressed and attractive. Turning her head Laura looked around the room. It was large and bare apart from the table and two chairs, much like the grim rooms she saw on television in Victorian workhouses or factories. The walls were bare red brick, eroding just above ground due to the damp. A small barred window sat high up in one wall, the dark blue of the dusky sky just visible outside.

She turned to see a well built middle aged man standing behind her chair. His arms were folded and he looked down at her with a threatening stare.

"Who the hell are you and what am I doing here. This is criminal, you have no right." Laura shouted. The woman stood up and walked over to stand in front of her chair.

"Who the hell am I?" she said, before raising her hand and slapping Laura squarely across the face. The pain was instant. "I'm the woman you need to show a little more respect to." Then she sat back down at the table and picked up her mobile phone. Laura tried to flex her jaw muscles to ease the pain as she felt more tears falling down her cheeks.

The woman dialled a number and waited a few seconds before speaking. "Hi, yes she's here...not fully, she might be difficult but nothing we can't handle...yes, she should, quite attractive. I'll keep you informed." She pressed 'end call' and put the phone down before speaking to Laura. "It looks like it's all settled then."

"What's all settled?" Laura said, her anger rising. "I don't know who you are or what you think you're doing here but you have no right to treat people like this." The woman looked at her for a few seconds before calmly speaking.

"You need to understand what's happening here. We have every right to treat you however we please and you will cooperate. If you choose not to do as you're told then you'll be made to do it. It's as simple as that. We have high hopes for you, you should fetch a good price, and you never know, you might get lucky and things won't go too badly for you. That doesn't matter to us of course, we just do the selling."

"I'm not being sold!" Laura exclaimed. You must be mad.

"I assure you we're not, and you are to be sold. Get used to it. You can take her," she told the man.

40

Taking her arm he helped her from the chair and they made their way out into the passageway. For a brief moment the thought of escape crossed her mind but then vanished just as quickly. What would she do, which way would she run and how far would she get? No, the prospect seemed far from realistic.

The new room they entered was very similar to the first, bare and impersonal, a similar table and chair being the only furnishings. She got the impression that nothing was permanent there, she supposed that in their line of work they needed to keep moving on. He left her standing in the centre of the room as he removed the rope still securing her wrists. "I'm going to get you something to eat and drink," he said, "and by the time I get back I want you naked, leave your stuff on the table." With that he left, closing the door behind him. Laura had no intention of carrying out his orders. She was there against her will and she was damned sure she would do nothing to make things easier for them.

Some time later he returned carrying a tray with what looked like pre-packaged sandwiches and a carton of orange juice. He shook his head in disbelief when he saw her still clothed. After placing the tray on the table he left the room, returning less than a minute later with another man. In his hand she noticed he carried a large pair of scissors. "I asked you nicely to take your clothes off and you haven't; we thought you might be uncooperative. The sooner you learn to do as you're told the easier it will be for all of us. The end result will be the same whether you choose the easy route or the difficult route."

In unison the two men moved toward her. She tried to keep both in sight but couldn't. The new arrival moved behind and grabbed her arms, pinning her wrists firmly together. With a desperate swing of her leg she kicked out at the one in front. He was far too quick for her and caught her ankle, holding her leg at waist height. Unable to balance or use her arms she knew her brief display of resistance was over.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'll do it now," she pleaded. The man just smiled.

"I'm afraid it's too late now, you had your chance and chose the difficult route." With his free hand he grabbed the collar of her blouse and tore it from her, ripping the cotton and sending buttons flying across the room. He opened both sides to expose her bare stomach and lacy bra.

"Don't you touch me," she spat at him. The hateful smile remained on his face, he was enjoying the battle. He placed his free hand just above the knee of the leg he was holding before sliding it over the nylon and under her skirt. His eyes never left hers, daring her to react. His fingers found the answer to his unspoken question. He shared it with his companion. "No underwear, they're all the same." Laura felt a pang of shame from his words before telling herself that his opinions meant nothing to her.

Taking the scissors from his pocket he started to cut away the skirt. "I'd avoid struggling if I were you," he warned her, "we wouldn't want you damaged." The scissors were incredibly sharp and easily cut through the material as they sliced their way toward the waistband. Laura kept very still and stared wide eyed as she felt the cold metal against her bare flesh. He cut the remainder of the blouse away before discarding it on the heap of ruined clothes. Snipping through the front of the bra released her breasts to his eager gaze. "Nice." The man holding her arms chipped in. With only her tights and shoes remaining he put the scissors back in his pocket. She felt his hand grab the sheer nylon and forcefully rip the material away. They carried her to the table, resting her weight there while they removed her shoes and pulled away the remaining nylon. Now completely nude and held down on the table she wondered whether they could see the embarrassing build up of moisture between her legs. "Stay where you are," he told her before nodding to the other man who then left the room. "You see I told you, same result different route, it's your choice."

"Through there there's a bathroom." He pointed out the door. "You have fifteen minutes to eat what you want and shower. Choose wisely this time." With that he left her alone in the room. She heard the lock turn and his footsteps recede down the passageway. She assumed it would be pointless but she tried the door handle anyway--as expected, it was locked. Feeling no inclination to eat she opened the door he had pointed out. The room looked unaltered since Victorian times. Dark green paintwork and off-white tiles, many cracked, an ornate toilet with a high level cistern and an open shower. Drops of water slowly fell from the enormous copper shower head. As she sat on the toilet she considered her options but knew there was only one sensible choice. Resenting the fact that she was conforming to the bully's wishes, the thought of a refreshing shower did appeal to her. If nothing else she hoped it would somehow cleanse her body of the strangers touch. Turning the stiff, brass wheel started the flow of water. Cold water cascaded from the head and flowed down the iron grating set into the floor. Seeing no way of altering the temperature or starting a flow of hot water Laura had no choice but to endure the icy deluge. The initial shock soon passed and the water even became quite pleasant after a while. The smell of the Coal Tar soap once again brought back childhood memories of Summer holidays with her Grandmother. Laura had to admire their choice, no pleasant feminine fragrance's, just practicalities. Aware of the passing time she cleaned herself as quickly as possible then used the coarse towel to dry off the freezing water. She had to admit to herself that she felt much better.

Perched on the edge of the table, she had waited only a couple of minutes before she heard noises from the corridor outside. The door opened and her natural reaction was to stand.

The two men returned, one pushing a metal gurney. Straps had been fixed to the stainless steel top. Two in the middle and two at one end. It was obvious from their position what they were designed to hold.

"Lie down," he said gesturing toward the trolley. Laura failed to move, completely stunned by dreadful thoughts of what they intended to do to her.

Before she could react and avoid it his hand darted out. Grabbing her nipple between forefinger and thumb he twisted violently. The intense pain made her hot and light headed. Attempting to push his hand away only increased the pressure of his grip and the agony rapidly spread through her chest. "Arrrgh." She screamed, and lifted herself onto her toes in a desperate attempt to ease the pressure. "Please, please, arrgh." Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Oblivious to her pleading he used the nipple to guide her, forcing her to lie back on the cold, metal surface. The second man pulled her arms away from her chest and fastened them either side of her waist. Moving to the bottom he repeated the process with her ankles, pulling her legs open in order to reach the corners of the wide trolley. As soon as she had been secured he let go of the tortured nipple. Her sobbing continued.

As one held the door wide open the other pushed the trolley out into the passageway. One of the wheels squeaked and the metal rattled as they made their way back to the first room she had been taken to.

41

The room was empty, the only evidence that people had recently been there was the phone, still lying on the table. After wheeling the trolley to the centre of the room one of the men left, returning seconds later with a roll of tape and a pair of scissors. It took no time at all to seal Laura's mouth and, in her panicked state she found breathing through her nose to be difficult.

"Now stop your pathetic whining." The cruel words came from the same man who had twisted her nipple.

Left alone, lying on the cold trolley in the damp, musty room Laura felt more alone than she had ever done before. She pulled hard on the straps but there was no give in them at all. Raising her head she looked around the room for any clue as to her whereabouts, she saw nothing. Being the helpless victim at the mercy of strangers had been a popular feature of her fantasies but the reality was so very different. Fantasies had the arousal and the thrill of the situation but not that very real fear.

Voices were getting louder and the click of heels could be heard from the passage. The woman returned with the cruel man. "What do you think?" The woman asked as they walked in.

"She should do well, needs to learn when to shut up though, never bloody stops."

"We'll work on that. Right lets have a look." Standing near to Laura's feet the woman looked her body up and down before making notes on a clipboard. She moved to the side and leaned in to get a closer look between Laura's legs. Still not satisfied she reached down and spread the outer lips before pushing two fingers as far as she could into the opening. The anger and embarrassment which surfaced as an incoherent, muffled shout was suppressed behind the tape. Laura's eyes sprang wide open with the indignity of the violation. "I see what you mean. Spirited isn't she. A lot of the clients like that though--a challenge." Removing a tissue from her pocket she wiped her fingers. "Soaking, typical." She made more notes on her clipboard.

Laura's breasts were not to be spared either. Following some rough handling the man and woman started to discuss them. The woman asked about the slight bruising to one of the nipples. "She wasn't keen on getting on the trolley," was his calm reply. If he needed to 'persuade' her to cooperate again, she said, he should use the other nipple to 'match them up'. The implied threat silenced Laura's stifled objections. The woman sat at the table to complete her notes.

The sound of more footsteps could be heard outside. The two male voices became clearer as they got closer. Three people entered the room, two men guiding a woman: her head hooded just as Laura's had been. Judging by her body the woman appeared to be young, perhaps early twenties. Her clothing was formal, maybe she too worked in the city. Her clothing was in disarray, the blouse open and her skirt ripped, showing a dark stocking top. Did she put up more of a fight than Laura had managed?

They held her in front of the woman. "You're late, any problems?" she asked.

"Left work with a friend. We had to wait until she was alone. All went to plan though." The man speaking was dark skinned, possibly of Middle Eastern origin. He was well spoken and had the air of a business executive rather than a people trafficker.

"There's just two of them for tonight," the woman said, "we sold the third earlier today. Had an offer we couldn't refuse, as they say. Though she'll wish we had, she's being prepared for her new owner. Okay, get this one ready." They took the girl out, no doubt to the same room and the cold shower.

Left alone again Laura waited, mulling over the new information. They couldn't be serious, she thought, was she really to be sold to some anonymous stranger. Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of another trolley, pushed by the dark skinned man and followed by the same woman. The sight of the unfortunate woman strapped to the trolley shocked Laura. Her head didn't move as she stared blankly at the ceiling. She seemed to have no interest in her surroundings or the people around her. The only sound she made was the pitiful and continuous sobbing.

The front of her body and thighs bore the raw marks of a whip or cane. But worse still were the newly completed piercings, so fresh there was still a drop or two of blood seeping from around the metal rings. A large ring decorated each nipple and a third passed through the hood of her clitoris, clearly visible between her open legs. The sight brought home to Laura, the severity of her situation. Thankfully the tape gag prevented her from voicing her horror, and therefore, the possible consequences.