“Yesterday, police released the last two suspects from police custody, citing a lack of substantial evidence as well as the further disappearance of key witnesses linked to the missing girls. At this time, there has been no word from police whether they are following any other leads in the case.”

Allison stared at the words, blinking at her on the computer screen. She took another sip of the lukewarm coffee, trying to think of something she might have overlooked. Jenny and Selena had been the best and brightest in the newspaper business, but more importantly they had been her friends and she was determined to find something—anything the police had overlooked.  

“Five men were suspected in the kidnapping of Molly Smith, Wendy Harrison and Samantha O’Malley, who went missing in the past month after walking home from school. There have been no demands for ransom.”


“Allison…”
   
She glanced up.
   
“Oh, it’s you James.”
           
“I didn’t mean to bother if you were in the middle of something.”
           
“It’s fine.” she said, slapping her laptop closed.
           
“This was left for you,” he said, setting a small brown airmail box on her desk. “No name or return address, it just said it would help you with your case.”
           
“James?”
           
“Yeah?”
           
“You know Arabic right?”
           
“I translate the entire paper for our Middle Eastern readership, so I hope so.”
           
She pointed to the front of the brown cube.
           
“What’s that say?”
           
“Bosporus. It refers to the isthmus between Europe and the Middle East, the gateway to the oil fields of the black sea and of course it’s also a fabulous place to lie on the beach or shop in the endless bazaars.”
           
He began to make his way out of the office.
           
“Wait, Could you bring me another coffee?” she asked, thrusting her half empty cup in his direction.

***

Grabbing a pair of scissors, Allison cut the box open and turned it over. The only thing inside the box was a thumb drive. Flipping it open, the young woman inserted the USB drive into her computer and clicked on the folder—it was empty except for a video file. Right mouse button.
   
The video was blurry and kept going in and out of focus. The audio was a confused babble of indistinct voices mixed with the sound of wind blowing over the tiny microphone. From the way the camera kept bobbing around, Allison guessed it had been taken with a cellphone.
 
A crowd of men were gathered in front of a large, old stone building. The camera bucked wildly, panning over a sea of indistinct figures before settling on a wooden stage at the front of the crowd. Allison watched as a small knot of figures stepped out of the building onto the stage. Her eyes widened as the camera came into focus for a brief moment and she saw that most of the people on the stage were completely naked women. One of them was led to the front of the stage and marched back and forth—a slave auction.
   
The crowd grew more and more excited, including the cameraman. The video spun wildly. The bidding for the woman must have ended, because a great cheer went up from the crowd. With that, the video abruptly ended. Allison stared at the black screen for a moment. She moused over and restarted the video, watching it intently. Her original shock at the video’s content had faded. She was now analyzing the screen for every possible detail. What a story it would make.

***
           
“Besides, Charles, it’s not like this isn’t the first time we’ve gone into danger.” Jane added.
   
The tall slim woman was one of the newspaper’s top photographers and often collaborated with Allison, since Jane’s temper had alienated several other colleagues, though she maintained they couldn’t handle a strong woman. Her short black hair and boyish torso certainly looked the part.
   
“You know I’d be the last person to argue with you, but I’d hate to have something happen to you two.” Charles said.
   
“I don’t think we could change plans even if we wanted to.” Allison added. “The captain is expecting us and he was already nervous enough about this trip, if we delay any longer he might change his mind.”
   
They had gone to work, searching for any clues they could find that might lead them to this strange city. A rumor here, a story there, about a mysterious city, somewhere in the east; one of the few hidden places in the world where the slave trade was still carried out openly, but never any hard facts, much less a location. Finally, James had come up with an old family contact, a man that could smuggle them in by sea.
   
“No outsiders are allowed there, except in chains of course.” The captain had leered. He was a thin man with skin like wrinkled leather, who had introduced himself as ‘John Brown’—a nervous look crossed his face.
   
“The price for telling someone about the city, or for taking them there and bringing them back out is death. And you’re sure you can protect my anonymity?”
   
Allison wasn’t entirely sure his fright had been genuine. He had certainly driven a hard bargain for agreeing to take her. She’d had to pay even more when she told him she wanted to take a photographer along. But finally, his palms had been sufficiently greased and they’d settled on a date and time.
   
“The ship’s waiting,” Allison declared.
   
She nodded to Jane and the two women stepped out of the office.

***
           
A light rain fell from the ashen sky as Allison and Jane arrived at the docks. The pair shivered as they crossed the street looking for their contact.
           
“There,” Jane said, pointing towards and entrance.
           
They could see a narrow, concrete pier jutting into the murky waters of the harbor. A large boat painted a drab grey, bobbed slightly with the tide.
           
“Get onboard before anyone sees; hurry.” a man hissed in a light Mediterranean accent.
           
“Where’s Captain Brown?” Allison asked.
           
“The Captain is busy preparing the vessel to sail,” the tall man muttered.  
           
He led them to a small cabin.
           
“It’s not much, but it’s the best we could spare give the circumstances. Best you not wander around too much, so I suggest you make yourselves comfortable.”
           
Allison had a quick look around the room. Padded chairs lined the walls, with a table at the center of the room. A few half empty mugs and several dog-eared porn magazines were scattered across the surface.
           
“Thanks… Mister?”
           
“Oh, I’m the first mate, but since my real name is long and difficult for the western tongue, just call me Bob.”
           
“Bob, can you show us our berths so we can put all our stuff away?”
           
His face twisted into a grin, like a tiger that had just discovered a large steak.
           
“Don’t worry; your berths are being prepared as we speak.”
           
Then he turned and left, closing the cabin door behind.

***
           
Allison and Jane sat at the table, the footsteps of the crew echoing through the bulkhead. A loud hum shook the table as the engine was started and soon they felt the waves toss the hull as they left the sheltered waters of the harbor.
           
“What was that?” Jane asked.
         
“What was what?” Allison inquired.
           
“That noise.”
           
They listened for a moment, but besides the thrumming of the engine and the crashing of the waves—nothing.
           
“There! I heard it again.”
           
The third time Allison heard it as well—a soft groan from the other side of the bulkhead. She leaned her head against the wall, then lightly tapped the steel barrier. It replied with a distinct grunt. It sounded like there might be some people on the other side.
           
“Maybe they want to play cards or something?”
           
“At least it’ll be something to do, while we wait for our rooms.”
           
There was a doorway at the far end of the corridor, they peeked in, but it was just an ordinary empty cabin.
           
“We could have just been hearing things. It could have just been whales swimming along the side of the boat. You know they make that groaning sort of whale sound.”
           
She was about to turn back when an odd thought struck her.
           
“This hallway is about fifty feet,” she muttered, sticking her head back into the hallway, “but if this room is only thirty and ours was ten, what’s in there?”
           
It only took a few minutes of running her hands along the wall before she found a catch, disguised in the molding along the wall. There was a sharp click and Jane readied her camera to capture what was on the other side.
           
“Mmmmmppphhh!!!”
           
Allison’s eyes widened as she peering into the darkness—half a dozen figures arranged in neat rows. Their legs were lashed together with rough rope and their hands were twisted behind their backs, wrists crossed. More rope circled their arms and chest gently squeezing their naked breasts. Their heads were covered with brown canvas sacks and the muffled noises from inside indicated they had been gagged as well. They were secured to the ceiling by collar and chain—final insurance in case they managed to slip their ropes—rattling loudly as the terrified captives struggled.
           
“I was wondering if you two would find our other passengers”
   
Allison and Jane jumped. Turning, they saw several sailors standing by the doorway, blocking them in the room. Bob was holding a pistol in his hand.
   
“I was planning on waiting until later this evening, but I suppose now’s as good a time as any.”
   
Allison’s mind raced. These men were part of the group that supplied captives to the Bosporus and now she and Jane were theirs as well. They had no choice but to surrender.
   
“Alright, ladies.” Bob continued. “I’m afraid you’re a tad overdressed. Strip.” The two women glared, but the gun didn’t allow compromise.
   
The sailors hooted derisively as Allison pulled off her shirt, followed by her top. Beside her, Jane pulled her tank top up over her head, baring her chest.
   
“Look, she does have tits after all!” The slavers jeered.
   
Allison and Jane kicked off their shoes, then pulled down their shorts, leaving them in their panties. Reluctantly, they pulled down their panties. They straightened up, trying to cover their naked bodies with their hands.
   
The helpless young women squirmed, protesting as their arms were twisted behind their backs and Allison winced as the rough rope dug into her soft skin, but beside the cruelty of the ropes the men handled them is an easy, workmanlike way. They were nothing special. Just two more among the hundreds being carried off to slavery.
   
Though they kicked and bucked their legs were swiftly lashed together as securely as their arms. Allison glanced over at Jane as the gag was pressed into her mouth, a horrified look on her face. Then the canvas hood was pulled over her head and the laces were tightened, pressing the soiled material onto her face.

“Try and get comfortable,” Bob taunted, his voice distorted by the canvas. “Two weeks sailing to the Bosporus and your final destination: the auction block.”
Then the hidden door swung shut, trapping them inside.

***
           
The voyage was equal parts terror, misery and boredom for Allison and the other slaves. They were kept tied up in their cramped cell at all times, save when they were taken out, one at a time, to use the boat’s head. They were never untied. At least once a day, one of the slavers would check the knots, ensuring their bonds didn’t loosen.
   
The women were kept hooded and gagged at all times, except when being fed and watered. Any attempt to try and speak during this time was ruthlessly punished by the cruel men. Allison could only look across the cell at Jane and wonder how her friend was doing. The guilt Allison felt for having got them into this mess weighed heavily on her mind, during the long periods of isolation, lost in the blackness of the hood, listening to the muffled sounds of the engine and her fellow captives sobbing quietly. She had let her eagerness to break this story get the better of her and now she and Jane were going to spend the rest of their lives in chains.
           
Sometimes she hoped they might be rescued. Charlie would call the FBI, they would investigate and then she would be rescued. The rest of the time she thought about what awaited. The thought of being paraded naked in front of a crowd and sold like an animal made her sick. Who will we be sold to, Allison wondered. Would they be put to work? Forced to toil at some menial task? They were both young. Would some rich man buy them for his harem? Would it be a brothel? Allison shuddered and though the sailors hardly showed any interest she had no illusion as to their motives. They want us fresh for the market, she thought bitterly.

***
           
“Rise and shine, slaves!” Bob taunted cheerfully. “Your new home is waiting ashore.” Another slaver followed after him and together, they began unloading the captive women. Allison was one of the first girls picked. The heavy metal collar was unlocked and removed. The canvas hood was unlaced and pulled off her head. One of the men bent over, knife in hand, and quickly sliced through the ropes binding her ankles and knees.
   
To her disappointment, the slavers made no effort to untie her arms or to remove her gag. The young woman was roughly hauled to her feet and half-marched, half-shoved through the doorway. She whimpered, stumbling on shaky legs. Fortunately, another slaver was waiting on the other side to catch her. Keeping a grip on her arm with one hand, he led her out of the cabin and up on deck. His other hand took the opportunity to feel her butt.
   
Spread out over the hillsides, ringing the harbour was a large city, built largely from sandstone and, in the richer parts of the city, marble. The highly polished stone glistened in the midday sun, almost too bright to look at.  
   
In the other direction, the brilliant, blue waves of the Black Sea stretched out beyond sight. A few sailing ships were bobbing in the waves. The sky overhead was clear, save a few scattered zephyrs. A hot sun shone down over the city, baking the stone surfaces.  
   
The boat they had arrived in was tethered to a long, stone pier, three-fourths the way down the harbour. Docked around it where a dozen other ships, some small boats like this one, others much larger cargo ships. A few seemed to be carrying mundane cargo, but the most common load was slaves. Allison looked on in horror at a long coffle of nude slaves, both men and women, being marched down the gangplank of one of the larger slave ships.
           
Waiting for them, at the base of the gangplank, was a large crowd. The crowd was diverse, about an even mix of men and women. Some were dressed in loose robes of lightly colored cloth, against the heat, but a large number were naked. Some were at work, loading and unloading cargo from the boats. Others trailed after their owners at the ends of leashes.
           
A few minutes after the last sobbing girl was dragged up through the hatch, a small, battered truck pulled out of the crowd and up to the pier beside the truck. The back of the vehicle had been converted into a large cage. Painted on the side of the cabin were words in an Arabic script, beside a stylized picture of a young woman wearing a collar and shackles.

Seeing the truck, the slavers ordered their captives to get moving. Allison stumbled down the gangplank at the head of the line of naked women. A few people on the crowd had gathered to watch them. Allison felt her cheeks flushed red with shame as they examined her naked body, talking excitedly amongst each other in a mixture of languages.
   
At the bottom of the gangplank, she was forced to climb into the back of the truck, no mean feat with her hands lashed behind her back. There were no seats inside the cage, so she sat down, near the back, as other slaves were packed inside. When the last girl was in, the driver slammed the door shut and then the truck began to move, throwing the slaves off balance.
   
Allison stared out through the bars as the truck slowly moved uphill from the bay, into the city proper. She saw more buildings, built in a near-eastern style and more people, walking about. Elsewhere people might have stared, but hardly anyone took notice of the truckload of naked women.
   
The truck came to a stop in front of an imposing building at a corner. A sign hung over the main entrance, bearing the same writing and stylized slave girl as truck. A dozen naked young women stood out on the sidewalk. Brass collars and chains tethered them to the building and people stopped, here and there, to inspect the slaves for sale.
   
“Out!” The driver ordered in heavily accented English, unlocking the back of the cage. The frightened women awkwardly clambered out, milling in a small huddle. An old man stopped to examine the group.
   
"When do these beauties go up for sale?" he asked. A dark skinned girl, followed behind him carrying a brightly coloured silk awning with which to shade her master from the sweltering sun.
   
"In a day or two." The slaver replied.
   
A side door opened up. Turning to the women, he growled. "Get in there, bitches!" Whimpering, the captives stumbled inside. Moving from the bright sun of the street into the dark building left Allison temporarily blinded. Someone reached out of the darkness and grabbed her. The helpless woman was led down a corridor, her bare feet padding on the rough stone floor alongside the heavier tread of the man holding her.
   
Ahead of her and behind her, Allison could hear other women whimpering into their gags, their muffled sobs echoing in the narrow passageway. Fifty yards downward, the hallway opened up into a large room. By now, her eyes had adjusted so that she could roughly make out her surroundings as the slavers lined them up, shoulder to shoulder.
   
A man entered the room. He was older than the other slavers and better dressed, in colourful silk robes with gold and jewels.
   
“Slaves, lower your gazes. Show your respect for Omar bin Osman. You will only be his property for a short time, but this will be the most important time in your miserable lives, displease him and you may go to the mines.
   
Omar mustered his merchandise carefully, stroking his long white beard. Ignoring the slaves' muffled protests, he reached forward with his other hand and casually cupped a breast or stroked them with a finger. Allison forced herself not to react as he casually squeezed her mound.
   
When he had finished with each girl, Omar spoke a word to his men. One of them stepped forward and grabbed the captive in question. The frightened slave was hustled away, down one of the many halls leading from the room. "He's grading us." Allison realized, after a moment. "Sorting us by quality." She and Jane were both sorted within moments of each other. The two young woman whimpered as they were separated, dragged into different hallways. Allison turned her head, looking over her shoulder at her friend. Then she was alone.
   
It was a run-down, industrial-looking area; stonewalls lined with metal pipes; electrical cables hanging from the ragged ceiling like broken bits of spaghetti. There were a series of T-shaped bars, about waist high fitted with shackles, several already occupied. Allison’s hands were uncuffed and finally the gag was removed. Then she was bent backwards over one of the frames, two horizontal bars supporting her body, while her hands and feet were locked in. She could hardly move, worse the cuffs forced her legs apart, leaving her sex open for to the slavers.
   
Allison waited nervously. She had been expecting an auction, but where were the customers? A naked man appeared, collared and shackles on his hand and feet. Was she to be broken in before the sale? The man poured a dollop of liquid onto his hands, working it into a lather, quickly applying the cream to her sex, before brushing the rest over her bush, before wiping his hand on a towel and producing a straight razor. With evident skill the man swept the razor across her skin. Within a few moments her mound was completely hairless. During the process more girls were fixed to the frames, awaiting similar treatment.
           
“See, it doesn’t look so bad when you get rid of all the fur.” The man remarked, as he wiped away the last bits of lather, giving her crotch a cup. Allison gave an indignant squeal, then a soft moan as his hands began to play.
           
“It’d be nicer with a bit of jewelry and the same for your lovely nips,” he said, producing a pair of sharp looking pincers. Allison struggled in the frame, frantic to free herself as he brought the cold metal closer and closer to her clit.
           
“Too bad that’s only for cheaper meat,” he chuckled, placing the tool back in the bag, “But you should have seen your face. You totally believed me.”
   
Allison gave a sigh of relief as the barber gave her nipple a final squeeze before moving on to the next waiting slave girl. They unlocked her from the frame, before throwing her into a half filled cage. Exhausted, she sunk to the ground and did her best to get some sleep.

***
           
“Greetings, my Lord.” Omar said, giving a bow as the customer was led into the showroom. “We have a plethora of lovely ladies from every corner of the world, awaiting your pleasure. Particularly, I would like to draw your attention to a shipment we received from America just yesterday. Please do not hesitate to explore more closely if any of my humble offerings are to your liking.”
           
The customer nodded, waving his hand for the dealer to begin.
           
“Our first item, 18 years old, a virgin. Pretty face, pretty tits...”
           
The girl trembled making the chains jangle with each shake. She looked up, eyes wide as the tall man examined her, struggling to hide her relief when he shook his head.
           
“Very well, Sir. Perhaps you might be interested in this pair of beauties; sisters. Or this fiery beauty of flaming red hair. Not a day over twenty I’d say. See how full of energy she is.” Omar said, whipping the slave’s backside with his cane. The girl yelped, jumping as high as her chains would allow. Again, the customer shook his head.
           
Allison was next. She stood on the slave block, head bowed.
           
“Here we have an interesting item. She’s 26, used to write for a newspaper. She heard about this city and wanted to learn more, so we arranged for her to come here, novel isn’t it?” Omar explained with a hearty chuckle. He stepped behind grasping both breasts lifting them slightly in presentation. “Still, she has a fine body, a pretty face. She will make a good slave, I think.”
           
This time the customer nodded his head a fraction of an inch, stepping forward to examine Allison more closely. The young woman held her breath as he reached forward giving every bit of her flesh his full attention.
         
“How much?”
           
She exhaled sharply, barely listening as the two men haggled.
           
Money changed hands and her new owner pulled out a leather leash and fastened it her neck.
           
“Obey and your life will be easier, now keep up.”
           
He turned and started walking. The young woman had no choice but to follow, struggling to match his pace with her legs locked in iron fetters.
           
“I still have some money left.” The man told Omar. “Maybe enough for another girl; one of the cheaper variety.”
           
“Certainly, my lord,” the dealer replied. “The house servants and labourers are right this way. We have many in stock. Finding one to suit your needs should be quite easy.”
           
Unlike the richly decorated, well lit showroom for the expensive slaves, the pens where the discount slaves were kept, where a collection of bare stone walls and metal cages packed with naked stock.
           
“Here are our domestic servants and breeders. If the sir would like to see labourers or studs, they are just beyond that arch,” Omar said, nodding towards the far side of the room, which led to another long row of slave pens.
           
“Let’s have a look at the female slaves,” the tall man replied.
         
“Of course, sir.”
           
The dealer unlocked the nearest pen, grabbing the woman closest to the door.
   
“Here is a fine breeder, 29 years of age and two children prior to capture. She is in fine shape and has a good number of little slaves left in her. There, slut, stand there. Hands on your head and spread those legs so the master can get a good look at your tits and slit.” He turned back to drag the next girl out.
   
Allison looked up at the captives as they were taken out and lined up. Like her, they were naked and shackled. However, the slavers had pierced their noses, nipples and fitted them with rings, like beasts. Allison’s eye’s moved down. She winced sympathetically. A fourth ring hung between their legs, piercing the lips of their pussies.
   
“We have another new girl.” The dealer announced, bringing one last girl from the pens. “She doesn’t have the hips or breasts to breed, but she could be put to work in the house or fields easily enough.”
   
Allison’s jaw dropped—Jane. She hardly recognized her friend. A stab of guild ran through her as she saw Jane’s piercings. Jane had suffered this because of her.
   
Seeing Jane, Allison’s master nodded.
   
“Yes. I will buy her, if the price is fair.” He haggled with the dealer, though not as long as for Allison, before he handed money over and tied another leash around Jane’s throat.
   
“I will give you the same offer I have your friend.” The man told Jane. “If you obey, your life will not be as hard.” As he turned, his two new slaves following after him, they glanced at each other, uncertainly. Silently, they wondered what fate lay in store for them.