Cynthia woke up in the darkness of the basement, her arms wrapped around Tabitha. The younger woman was still asleep, her bare chest slowly rising and falling as she breathed. With a slight smile, Cynthia reached over and brushed a lock of light brown hair out of her friend's face, watching her sleeping.

The captive woman sighed. The long chain attached to her collar clanked as she sat up. Only moments ago, she'd been back home, at her apartment. Her captivity at the hands of the evil slaver, Mrs. Roberts had been only a forgotten nightmare. Unfortunately, she'd awoken to find the opposite true.

Suddenly the door to the cellar opened and Mrs. Roberts appeared, silhouetted against the light of the kitchen. Tabitha stirred as their captor started down the stairs. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she sat up. Doubtless, her dreams too, were more pleasant than the two girl's present circumstances.  

The captive women crawled across the bed as sat, side by side, on the edge, as the slaver descended the stairs. Cynthia bowed her head submissively. She'd learned the hard way to show the proper respect for her "mistress" during her captivity.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cynthia glanced over at Tabitha. The younger girl returned her glance. Cynthia could see the worry in her friend's eye. Today was the day. Both captives knew that.

Today, Cynthia would meet her new owner, her master, the man who now had the power of life and death over the young woman. She would be taken away to another country, to live the rest of her, all too likely short, life in miserable bondage.    

"Good morning, slaves." Mrs. Roberts said, her voice incongruously cheerful considering the situation.

"Good morning, mistress." The slaves replied in unison. As a reward, the girls received their small bowels of bland gruel. While they ate, their captor went back upstairs. She returned just as finished, carrying a bucket of water and the travel makeup kit.

"Now Cynthia, your new master will be here in an hour or two. Before he gets here, I want you to make yourself presentable for him." Mrs. Roberts ordered, setting the things down and taking up her two captives' bowels.

When the old woman had left, Cynthia grabbed the rag in the bucket and did her best to wash off. "Here, let me get that." Tabitha said, taking the wet rag from Cynthia. She quickly washed away the grime coating the nude woman's bare skin.

Opening the makeup kit, Cynthia tried to make herself look presentable. Tabitha took a small plastic comb from the kit and gently combed her friend's brown hair. "How do I look?" Cynthia asked, turning to Tabitha.

"You look wonderful." The younger woman replied, smiling.

"Thanks. I'm sure my "master" will appreciate it." Cynthia replied, bitterly. To her surprise, Tabitha placed an arm around her shoulders and hugged Cynthia. She managed a weak smile in return. It slowly dawned on her that she would never see this young woman again after today.

"Tabitha…" she said, hesitantly, "In a short time, I'm going to be…taken away. I don't know what's going to happen. I doubt it will be anything good. Before that happens, please promise you won't forget me. That way, whatever happens, I'll know there's someone out there who remembers what happened to me and cares."

Tabitha crawled around in front of Cynthia and took her fellow captive in her arms. Without a word, she leaned forward and kissed the older girl. Unlike the simple peck the two had shared before, this one was a full kiss. Both girls knew they would never see each other again and they poured all their feelings into this last gesture.

The kiss was rudely interrupted a second later, as Mrs. Roberts opened the door. Hurriedly, the two girls broke apart and took their places on the side of the bed. Cynthia glanced up, Mrs. Roberts was coming down the stairs, and she wasn't alone.

Following behind the old woman was a middle aged man. He was Caucasian, though his skin was tanned golden brown. The man was well dressed in an expensively tailored green suit. His slicked back hair was black, liberally speckled with grey. As he descended the stairs, he regarded the two nude girls with cold, cruel eyes.

"The pictures didn't do justice." The man said, stepping past the slaver to examine Cynthia. The young woman kept her eyes low, not saying a word. Her new master reached down and tugged sharply on the chain of Cynthia's collar. Silently, the slave stood up. "You may call me Master Jim, slave, or simply Sir. That is, of course, when you're allowed to talk…"   

He grinned, reaching out with one hand to grope Cynthia's naked breast. "I'll have to get these pierced." He teased, pinching the young woman's nipple. "That will look lovely." Cynthia winced at the pain. "Oh yes, I'm sure my customers will love you."

Master Jim's hand ran down her body between her legs. Cynthia bit her lip to keep from crying out. Involuntarily, she took a step back. Her new owner grinned. "I take it you haven't trained her sexually?" He called back at Mrs. Roberts.

"No." The slaver replied, somewhat nervously. "I just trained her for obedience. Will that be a problem?"

"Not at all!" Master Jim laughed. "I'm sure my boys will just love showing Cynthia here the ropes!" He gave the miserable young woman a hearty slap on her rear, as he turned to Tabitha. "And who is this?"

"This is Tabitha. I picked her up 'bout two days ago." Mrs. Roberts said, motioning to the younger girl. Reluctantly, she stood up, as the older man leered. She recoiled as he reached forward to feel her naked body. At a stern glare from him, she hung her head and let him grab her.

"As you can see, she still needs some training before she's ready to be sold." Mrs. Roberts said, shrugging.

"You let me know when you do."  He smiled at the cringing young woman. "I always need new girls. We go through them so quickly…" With those ominous words, he turned and left the basement.

Glancing up, Cynthia noticed Mrs. Roberts turning as Master Jim moved past her. Was it her imagination, or did the slaver seem relieved now that he was no longer in the same room as her?

The old woman reached into her pocket and withdrew a short length of rope. She gestured for Cynthia to place her hands together in front of her, palm to palm. Glumly, Cynthia reached forward and let the slaver tie her hands, resigned to her fate.

Pulling out her keys, Mrs. Roberts leaned forward to unlock Cynthia's collar. "Now, I'm giving you a chance to show your new master how obedient you can be. I'd advise you to take advantage of this. Whether or not you make a good impression now may determine how comfortable the rest of your life is."

"Yes mistress…" Cynthia said softly as Mrs. Roberts removed the collar from around her neck and set it on the table beside her. Reaching down, the older woman grabbed the free end of the rope tying the younger woman's hands. Turning, she started walking towards the stair. Cynthia stood up and followed after her kidnapper.

Upstairs, Master Jim was waiting by the front door. From somewhere, his car outside, Cynthia presumed, he'd brought in a large wooden crate. The thick wooden lid had been unlocked and lifted up to reveal a padded interior fitted with restraints. The young woman gulped nervously as she saw how she would make the journey to her new home.

The older man laughed as he saw the look on his captives face. He grinned. "Well, then, slave, let's get ready to get going…"  


Mrs. Roberts peered through the glass window panes; watching the plain, white van Master Jim had arrived in, pull away from the house and drive off. Inside the van, locked safely inside the crate, a frightened young woman was held in immovable bondage, a helpless cargo to be delivered in a few days.

The slaver had never thought of Cynthia, or any of the girls she kidnapped and sold, as a human being, another woman. To Mrs. Roberts, they were nothing more than merchandise, and now that Cynthia was been sold, to the old woman, she was even less than that now. Just another carefully hidden file, like all the other dozens of girls kidnapped and sold. Another number on her balance sheet, adding up to the bottom line.

The old woman smiled as she turned, putting the unlucky slave out of her mind. In a week or two, she might not even remember Cynthia name. By that time, of course, Tabitha would be trained and sold off as well, leaving the slaver free to look for the next girl to join her long list of victims.

"In the meantime…" Mrs. Roberts thought to herself. Her mind filled with all the torments she could inflict on Tabitha today, as she headed to the basement dungeon where the girl was chained up.

"Well, Tabitha." She said, opened the basement door and starting down the stairs. "Looks like it's just the two of us now…" She stopped at the bottom of the stairs as her eyes fell on the bed. Tabitha was nowhere to be seen. The two iron collars lay on the bed, the keys the old woman had forgotten still stuck in the padlock of one of them.

The old woman felt her stomach turn upside down as she turned around. She darted for the stairs, as fast as she could. Before she'd even climbed halfway, the door suddenly slammed shut, leaving her in the darkness. She heard the scrape of the bolt sliding into place as her, former, captive locked the slaver in her own dungeon…


Cynthia groaned as everything around her shook when the van hit a pothole. The young woman lay on her back, the thick padding of the bondage crate pressing against her from all sides. The wooden box was small enough the tall woman was forced to curl her legs under her.

Tight leather straps held her legs trapped in this position. More straps pinned her arms to her side, holding her in place in her small prison. A thick, leather blindfold covered the young woman's eyes, unnecessary inside the crate. A large, rubber plug filled Cynthia mouth, held in place by a half dozen straps, encircling her head in tight embrace.

A thin plastic tube ran from the gag to one side of the crate, allowing some fresh air to reach the captive girl. The narrow diameter, of course, meant that getting enough air was a challenge. If Cynthia panicked, or tried to struggle free of her restraints, she would quickly use up her air supply. All she could do was lie still and concentrate on the all-important task of getting enough air to her lungs. It was a simple, fiendish was to force her to remain docile during transport.

Cynthia felt the crate lurch to one side, as the van made another turn. She moaned into her gag, fresh tears coming to her eyes. Trapped in the pitch black crate, the young woman had quickly lost all sense of time. Had they been driving for days or merely hours? More importantly, when would this nightmare end? When would she be let out of this padded hell?

Logically, Cynthia knew, what awaited her at the end of this ride was far worse than anything she was going through right now. Mrs. Roberts had spent enough time horrifying her captives with the lurid details of what awaited them once they'd been sold. But locked in this tiny box, the heat of her naked body and the thick padding quickly warming it to a hellish temperature, Cynthia felt like she would give anything, do anything, to be released from here.

All of a sudden, everything lurched again. It took a moment, disoriented as she was, for Cynthia to realize the van had come to a halt. Cynthia tensed as the seconds crawled by, agonizingly slow. Was release close at hand? Would she fare any better outside the crate then in here?

Cynthia heard the sounds of the van doors opening, muffled through the wood crate. A moment later, Cynthia heard wood creak and a cold gust of fresh air blew over her sweat-drenched naked body. The sharp smell of salt-water and brine flooded Cynthia's nose.

"What the-!!!" she heard a man exclaim. "Hey, captain! We found her! Come quick!"

"Don't worry ma'am. Everything's all right." Cynthia heard a woman say. "You're safe now. We'll get you out of this in just a second." Cynthia cried out into her gag, as she realized the voices she was hearing didn't belong to her master. After all she had been through; the young woman almost couldn't believe rescue was at hand!

Cynthia felt hands reach down into the crate and start loosening the tight straps around her body. She groaned as her gag was removed, her jaws stiff and sore. Someone removed her blindfold. Cynthia blinked as the sudden light dazzled her eyes. Gradually she could make out the face of a policewoman standing over her, looking down. Everything blurred as tears of joy filled Cynthia's eyes. The rescue Cynthia had stopped hoping for had happened.

"Can you stand?" The woman asked, as she and the other officer gently lifted Cynthia out of the crate.

"I…I don't know." Cynthia replied, her voice soft and weak. Every part of her body ached after her long confinement. Her legs felt weak. She was carried a short distance to a waiting ambulance. As she was, Cynthia took in the sight of dozens of policemen and women milling around the van. Lying on the ground, beside the van was her master…no, the man who'd bought her, Cynthia corrected herself. He was dead, blood spreading out from a wound in his head. A small revolver lay beside one hand.

"T-Tabitha." Cynthia said, "She's…"

"Your friends safe." The policewoman said. "She escaped and called us."

"good…" Cynthia mumbled softly. As her worry faded, relief at her rescue and exhaustion overwhelmed the young woman and she fell into a deep sleep…


Epilogue:

"The Basement Slaver Case" as it was eventually dubbed by the Press, first brought the, until then, unknown Black Market Slave Trade to the attention of the Public and Law Enforcement. Before the arrest of Mrs. Roberts, there had been some investigators who'd suspected the existence of such a trade, but even they were surprised at the scale of the operation.

Though the buyer, later identified by one of his victims as a "Master Jim", took his own life rather than allow the police to capture him, Mrs. Roberts was arrested at her house peacefully, and cooperated with the police fully, in order to escape the death penalty. The old woman was sentenced to life in prison for an estimated 137 counts of kidnapping she and her late husband had carried out over the last fifty years.

With Mrs. Roberts' help, police found records of all the young women she and her husband had kidnapped and sold. Using these records, local police around the world carried out a series of raids on suspected slave owners, recovering hundreds of slaves, many of whom had been held captive for more than a decade.

The two young women who had played such a crucial role in this case managed to avoid much of the public attention attached to the case and the ongoing efforts to stamp out the international slave trade. The two testified against Mrs. Roberts at the slaver's trial and participated in several therapy programs aimed to help the victims of the slave trade recover from the extended periods of captivity they'd suffered through.

Later, the two sold the rights of their story to a major Hollywood studio, in exchange for a large cash payment. According to reports, the women used the money to buy a house in a small, country town to live in together. After finishing her degree, Tabitha got a job teaching history at the local high school. Cynthia opened a small restaurant in partnership with a local man. When asked, they both politely declined an interview.

As unexpected and shocking as the "Basement Slaver" case was, however, no one was expecting the events that shocked the world a little more than a year later…