While Idetta was in Mistress Gisele’s office Nastascha remained seated on the bed naked in the small room she had shared with Idetta as she had been told to do so. She had learned the hard way that whatever Wilma, the dominatrix, said had best be obeyed. After about a half hour the door to the room opened again. Wilma entered followed by two valets who were leading a young woman. Nastascha looked at the young woman. She was in her mid-twenties, had brunette hair and a slender build. She also had on very nice clothes that were filthy and in complete disarray. It was obvious from her face that she had been crying and was clearly afraid.

Wilma spoke, “Nastascha, this is your new roommate. Her name is Anne Claire. Later she will be prepared for her arrival ceremony, but in the meanwhile, please help her get cleaned up.” Then she added, “Oh, and do so rather quickly. A man is coming this afternoon to look at you. He said he was interested in purchasing a fine looking Russian whore, but perhaps he will settle for you.” Wilma said this last sentence with an evil grin, then she and the valets left the room, locking the door from the outside. The new girl looked at Nastascha and said in French, “What is this place? Where am I?”

Nastascha who had learned a good bit of French while at Roissy answered, “It is called Haus der Sklavin. It’s somewhere in Germany, but I am not sure where.” Then, “What are you doing here?”

Anne Claire responded, “I’m not sure. I was walking on a street in Bonn. I was going to meet with a man when suddenly I was kidnapped off the street and thrown into the back of a van. I was blindfolded and then drugged – something that made me pass out. Why I don’t even know how long ago it was!” She began to cry again, so Nastascha got off the bed and came over and embraced her saying, “Please don’t cry. It doesn’t do any good. You are here now at Haus der Sklavin. Try to make the best of it.”

Nastascha then got a washcloth and hairbrush. She wiped the tears from Anne Claire’s face and brushed out some of the tangles from her shoulder length hair, all the while saying small words of comfort. After a bit Anne Claire said, “Haus der Sklavin? That’s German; what does it mean?”

Nastascha answered, “House of Slaves. We are slaves here. Sex slaves.”

Anne Claire began crying again.

Hi,

i’m trying a little experiment. i think that if You click on one of the tags below, You should be able to see ALL the posts with the same tag, and therefore see a character’s story(ies). i would appreciate it if some of the Followers of this blog would let me know if it works.

Oh! And by the way, Happy October!

Love, O

Nastascha watched as Idetta put on the same clothes she had worn when she arrived at Haus der Sklavin six weeks ago. As she watched the older woman pick up the clothing, she thought to herself, “I wonder what she will do now that her time at Haus der Sklavin is over. And I wonder why she came in the first place. She told me it was to honor a fantasy her late husband had of making her a sex slave, but he is dead and gone. I guess she was just curious. Perhaps now her curiosity is sated.”

And as Idetta lifted the same conservative clothing she had worn on her arrival, she looked at Wilma and said, “There isn’t any bra and panties.”

Wilma replied, “Yes, I know. You removed them in the car that brought you here.”

“But the young man… He told me to do so and then he put them away. Am I to go home with nothing underneath my dress and jacket?””

“Evidently,” replied Wilma. “But you can discuss that with Madam Giselle.

Wilma looked up at Madam Gisele. “There all done. Much better than a brand which would fade over time. The tattoo may look a little rough for a bit, but then everyone who sees her, either nude or in a bikini will know her status.” Then she added, “If they speak Ukrainian.”

Stepan said, “If not, they will ask, and she will have to reply. Another little humiliation.”

Madam Gisele giggle and said, “How wicked you are.” Then to Wolfie and Heinrich, “Now bind her with her legs spread, so we can attach the medallion.”

As the two valets, rolled Nastascha over and secured her legs to the upright posts on either side of the raised platform and secured her ankles to the posts so that she was spread open, Nastascha looked over at the nearby table. She saw a Bunsen burner, some forceps, an instrument that looked like a leather punch, and heavy welders’ gloves. Watching in horror, she saw Wilma light the burner and Madam Gisele put on the gloves. She heard Madam Gisele say, “We won’t use a needle to pierce you, but rather this punch. Don’t worry, though. We will heat it enough so that when the hole in your labia is made, it will be cauterized at the same time. Minimal, if any, bleeding. Then a ring with a larger diameter than usual will be placed through the hole and you will be able to wear the medallion your Master has chosen for you.”

“No! Please, no! I beg you!” cried Nastascha as Wilma heated the punch n the flames of the burner.

Wilma looked at Stepan and Gisele, “Do you want her gagged so she cannot scream?”

Stepan nodded and Gisele produced a penis shaped gag. She gave it to one of the valets and said, “Gag her and you should probably tie her down a little tighter. She may not be able to scream, but she will try to buck like a horse when she feels the hot metal against her tender skin.”

The valet placed the gag in Nastascha’s mouth, pushing her tongue to the back of her throat. He then secured it while the other valet immobilized her by using several straps around her waist and hips. Terrified Nastascha watched as Wilma moved between her legs with the forceps. She felt the cold metal grasp her left inner labia. Then she saw Madam Gisele approach with the hole punch, glowing from being heated in the flame of the burner. Panicked, Nastascha looked up and saw Stepan’s impassive gray eyes staring into hers. Then she felt a burning pain; she tried to scream, but the gag stifled her cries.

Nastascha, bent over the raised platform with her hands bound at the top and secured by her ankles at the base, heard the whirr of the tattoo machine, then felt the sting in her lower back. She knew the top layer of her skin was being pierced by a tiny needle and ink delivered into her epidermis. She knew she was being marked. Marked as Stepan’s whore. She thought to herself, “From now on anyone who sees me will know. Will know what I have become. A whore and slave.” As she thought about her Fate, bitter tears ran down Nastascha’s face.

As Wilma worked away, Madam Gisele turned to Heinrich and Wolfie and asked, “I trust you two had a nice time with her last night?”

“Oh yes,” answered Heinrich. “We both enjoyed her several times. She even seemed to enjoy it. I am surprised her moaning didn’t waken the bitches in the other rooms. And she seemed to be especially wet once I told her what was going to happen to her this morning.”

“Oh, you spoiled the surprise,” giggled Madam Gisele. Then she said to Wilma, “Quick, slip a finger into her. See if she’s wet still.”

Nastascha heard the whirring abate for a moment, then felt two fingers thrust into her vulva. She let out an involuntary groan. Then she felt a thumb being pushed into her rectum. Another groan.

Oh yes. Quite wet,“ said Wilma.

Madam Gisele turned to Stepan, “Well, it seems she is quite suited for your plans for her. If you don’t mind me asking, what are your plans for her once you have finished pimping her out in Greece?”

Stepan responded, “I haven’t yet made a final decision. Perhaps I’ll sell her to one of the tougher brothels in Donetsk or Luhansk. They don’t mind taking in ‘high mileage’ models.” Gisele laughed at this little joke and Stipan continued, “Or perhaps I’ll just use her myself until I tire of her and then dispose of her.”

“Dispose?”

“Yes. I heard from a friend that he was in France several years ago when a rich chap had his former lover crucified. He said it was quite erotic watching the poor doomed woman, I think she was some former fashion model, writhe and suffer while hanging on the cross.”

“Oh yes, now I remember. One of my associates, a dominatrix named Zuri told me about it. Her older cousin, a woman named Anne Marie arranged it. The girl in question was a model named Doutzen. Quite beautiful. It took place in Roissy on the summer solstice. I heard it was quite a show. If you ever decide to do this with this bitch, please let me know. I’d love to be there to see it.”

And while Madam Gisele and Stepan made small talk, Wilma worked away marking Nastascha.

Idetta at Haus der Sklavin: Part Twenty Six

Mr. Tanaka pushed Olga to the floor where she lay, quietly sobbing. Then he went and looked at the unconscious Misha, hanging on the X shaped cross. He nodded to his wife and then said to Wilma, “Nicely done. Place him in his cage when he comes to and have both slaves transported to our plane at the airfield. I will settle up with Madam Gisele and then we are off to Osaka with our new slaves. And, of course, I will recommend Haus der Sklavin and especially you to any of our associates who may have slaves to be trained.” Wilma said, “Thank you. It was my pleasure.” The Tanakas left, and Wilma called both Idetta and Nastascha over to the unconscious figure of Misha.

“Look, whores. Look at what a good job I did.”

Idetta looked at Misha’s member in something between wonder and horror. The effects of the saline solution were still visible as he was partially erect and there on the glans, just above the opening for the urethra was a very visible ’T’ that had been burned in by the hot iron. Wilma said, “The ’T’ is for Tanaka. I suspect once they are back in Japan, Olga will receive a similar marking. Perhaps just above her vagina. Wouldn’t you whores like to be marked in that way?”

Both Idetta and Nastascha stood there wordlessly for several moments before Wilma broke the silence. “OK, whores, it’s time to put you back in your room. Let’s go, so the valet scan get these two ready for transport.”

Then Wilma led Idetta and Nastascha out of the dungeon. Along the way, she said, “Since the old sow is nearing the end of her time here, both of you are getting atreat tonight. Neither of you will be chained to the bed. You may please each other if you so desire.”

Idetta at Haus der Sklavin: Part Twenty Five

As Idetta watched, Olga was hardly given any respite after the young male slave brought her to orgasm. Instead she was taken from the raised dais and frog marched by Mr. Tanaka and the valet over to the X shaped cross where her husband, Misha, was bound. Mr. Tanaka quickly brought her hands together behind her back and fastened them using the bracelets on her wrists. Then he said, “Go ahead, kneel in front pf your husband. He watched you receive pleasure from the young slave. Now I want you to give him some pleasure. It may well be the last time he gets any.” Olga looked down at Misha’s erect member, straining and veins bulging due to the saline solution that he had been injected with. Then she looked into his eyes and said, “Forgive me for coming when the young boy went down on me. I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s OK. I know,” said Misha.

“How sweet. True love between slaves,” said Madam Tanaka in a mocking tone. Then to Olga, “Get on your knees, whore! Suck him! I want him even harder when he is marked. But don’t let him come or you’ll be whipped until the skin comes off.”

Olga knelt and took Misha in her mouth and began working her lips the length of him. Mr. Tanaka began undoing his robe and pulled out his member, stroking it to erectness. And Wilma, the dominatrix, moved to the brazier where the small branding iron was glowing red hot.

Madam Tanaka moved and pulled Olga away from Misha. Pushing Olga’s head to Mr. Tanaka, she said, “Now suck my husband while Misha watches.” As Olga began caressing Mr. Tanaka, Madam Tanaka grasped Misha’s member in her gloved hand. She squeezed hard and said, “Watch that whore wife of yours suck my husband. Watch him receive the pleasure you will never again receive.” Then she nodded to Wilma.

Wilma pulled the branding iron from the brazier and came to Misha. Then both Idetta and Nastascha watched in horror as with Madam Tanaka holding Misha’s penis just behind the glans, Wilma pressed the red-hot iron onto the tip of Misha’s member. He screamed and fainted, and at the same time Mr. Tanaka came in Olga’s mouth.

Vladimir A. had started out as a small-time pimp in Moscow almost forty years ago. Then one day he had met a man who worked for the (then) KGB. The man had offered Vladimir a proposition. “You will report to me any Party members who partake of your business.,”

Vladimir, young and full of bravado, replied, “And if I refuse?”

The response was, “Then I will kill you. Who would care about one less pimp?”

Time passed. The Berlin Wall came down. Boris Yeltsin came to power. Vladimir’s friend from the KGB disappeared. Vladimir took a younger partner in business -a handsome man called Ivan. They gradually got into the human trafficking as young women from the Russian interior began flocking to Moscow looking for better opportunities. Ivan, with his good looks, Western suits, and Rolex had no trouble seducing young naïve farm girls. The homely ones were sold to local brothels or to Belarus or Ukraine. Prettier ones were sent to the West. Truly beautiful girls might be sent to a place like Roissy, as was the case with Nastascha.

Then one day there was a chance meeting between Vladimir and his old KGB ‘friend.’ It seemed he was now with the SVR. As the old USSR was imploding, he had hitched his star to another former KGB officer – the other Vladimir, as he referred to the man- and now had access to the highest levels of power within the Kremlin. He offered Vladimir and his fledgling human trafficking enterprise protection from law enforcement. For a price, of course. It was an offer Vladimir could not refuse.

Not long afterwards Vladimir realized that making photographic movies was also a way to make money. Vladimir knew nothing about making movies, but I van had actually tried to get into Russian cinema, going so far as to study filmmaking at a local university. And prior to meeting Vladimir he had been in a couple of short pornographic films. Vladimir knew that BDSM porn was quite profitable. And Ivan said of the women her seduced, “A Russian woman isn’t truly happy unless she’s being beaten. Even Stalin said that.”

“That isn’t quite what Stalin said, but it is close enough my friend,” replied Vladimir. “Besides if a girl tires of ‘starring’ in our little movies, we can always traffic her. And thus “Slaves for Love” studio was born.

+++++

Back to the present:

Vladimir said to Ivan, “Is everything set up in our filming studio?” Calling the little room in the warehouse with lights and props a studio was a vast overstatement, but Vladimir thought it gave an air of authenticity to his operation.

“Yes,” responded Ivan. “And I have Abeo standing by. You know I do not like him.”

“Neither do I. I hate doing business with that Nigerian. But he is well endowed. Even much more than you, who are a regular Slavic stallion. And having a pretty Slavic girl take a large Black member in her mouth makes for a good scene.”

“I guess so,” said Ivan somewhat glumly.

Vladimir continued, “And this new girl, what’s her name?”

“It’s Nataly.”

“Yes, Nataly. She will be compliant?”

“I should think so. Bogdan and Alexei were going to smoke some marijuana with Yulia and her, then give her a, how do the Americans say? A roofie and tell her it’s a Valium. To calm her nerves before the big screen test. I am sure she will be compliant.”

Vladimir considered this, then nodded and said, “It should go well then.” And as he said this his cell phone buzzed.

Natascha in Paris: Part One

The train pulled into the Gare Este about 10 am. Natascha had taken time to fix her hair and make-up and had put on her fur. After all, it was February in Paris. “Crazy bitch expects a crowd to be waiting for her,” muttered Vladimir under his breath to Ivan. Ivan replied, “She may be crazy, but she said she would do anything I ask of her. She has her little mind so set on getting into movies here that she thinks of little else.” A moment later Natascha said, “Will we be going straight to meet with someone?” “No,” replied Ivan. “You and I are going to the hotel room Vladimir has reserved. He is going to make arrangements for you.” “Oh good,“ said Natascha excitedly. And a moment later the three split up. Ivan and Natascha in a taxi to the Hotel Rouge and Vladimir to make ‘arrangements.’ But Vladimir went to Roissy to make the arrangements not to any place connected with the film industry.

Idetta watched as Ilse took the leash that was attached to the heavy ring that pierced the member of the hooded man she only knew as slave 4 in her hand and led him away. Frieda, the other dominatrix, followed behind with Rune, now known as slave 9, in tow. Idetta wondered if she would ever see either one again. Snejana, sitting beside Idetta, leaned over, nodded at Ilse and slave 4, and whispered, “Once when that French girl called O was here with Nastascha, I saw her being led around on a leash attached to a ring that pierced her sex. I always wondered what it felt like. Do you suppose it feels different for a man and woman?”

Idetta whispered back, “I don’t know about feeling different, but I would think both would feel quite humiliated.”

Wolfie, the valet, must have overheard the conversation because he said, “Perhaps one day you will find out how it feels.” Then he grinned evilly. Heinrich spoke up and said, “Now ladies, it’s time for your beauty treatments. Let’s go to the preparation room.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In the preparation room, there was a chair, the reclining type found in an upscale beauty salon, several straight back chairs, sink, dressing table, etc. What was somewhat striking was that the wall across from the reclining chair was covered with a mirror. And when one of the female slaves sat in that chair, she was not allowed to bring her legs together. Thus, when her eyes strayed to the mirror, she would see the reflection of her open sex. Like the mirrors surrounding the Turkish toilet, this was something Idetta had trouble getting used to – the complete lack of any privacy and the constant display of the female sex.

As all eight of the female slaves had to be prepared for the evening, Madam Gisele had brought in a team of beauticians, rather than relying on Snejana who usually did hair and make up for the other slaves. There were three of them – all women in their late middle age – who normally had a small studio in Stuttgart. The one who seemed to be in charge had worked in the fashion industry, once being the exclusive make-up artist for the model Claudia Schiffer. Another had drifted into French cinema where she had worked with several actresses. Madam Gisele had paid a handsome sum, as much for their discretion as for their skill.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As the three older women worked on only one slave at a time – washing, drying, and styling hair, applying make-up, outlining and applying eye shadow, lipstick, etc. the process went fairly slowly. If the older women were surprised to be dealing with eight women, all completely naked save for collars on their necks and leather bracelets on wrists and ankles, they didn’t show it. Nor did they seem perturbed when they shaved and waxed the legs and sex of the slaves. Idetta did notice a certain look on the face of one of the beauticians. Was it a look of pity or of horror?

Standing in line, waiting her turn, Idetta whispered to Heinrich, “You said you would tell me what you know about these ’guests’ Madam Gisele mentioned.”

Heinrich replied, “I was on duty near her office and I heard her speaking with Zuri. Evidently, there is a group of high-powered executives and possibly some of their wives coming here as a ‘corporate retreat.’ At least that is how Madam Gisele phrased it. She went on to mention team building exercises based around some sort of entertainment. I suspect you and your fellow slaves are to be that entertainment.”

Idetta said, “Executives! What type of executives?” Heinrich replied, “Mercedes Benz, I believe. I caught the name of the man who was arranging it. Madam Gisele referred to him as Herr Weber.”

Hearing that, Idetta’s blood ran cold. She thought, “Dear God! Jakob Weber was the plant manager when my husband worked in Alabama. After Hans was killed, I learned he was promoted to the Supervisory Council of the company. I met him at a party once, and his wife and I were in yoga and Pilates classes together!”

In only moments, Rune, the new male slave, let out a deep groan. Renata pulled her head back from his throbbing member, looked up at Jurgen, the valet, and said, “I tried not to let him come, but he’s awfully close I think it’s been a while since he had sex.”

Hearing that, Frieda stepped close. She placed the handle of the short whip she carried against Rune’s still erect member and said, “It’s to the second mark on the handle. That’s about nine inches; not much more than when he was flaccid. Then she went to Wolfie who was gripping his own member. Placing the handle of the whip alongside him, she said, “Here we have the third mark on the whip handle, a little over 9 and ½ inches. I guess Wolfie wins!”

Just then Wilma, the head dominatrix, and Zuri, Anne Marie’s younger cousin who was also an associate dominatrix at Haus der Sklavin, entered the dining area. Idetta noted that both would be considered quite pretty, if not beautiful. Zuri still had a youthful glow about her, dyed red hair framing a round face. She had a slender build, evident even under the leather pants and jacket she was wearing. Wilma was, of course, older, probably in her early to mid-thirties. Striking blue eyes and an oval face with long dark hair. Idetta thought to herself, “I am not predisposed to lesbianism, although I did thoroughly enjoy my night with Nastascha. Still…”

Wilma looked at the group and said, “Just what is going on here?” She was not someone to be trifled with, even the valets were wary of her, nor was she known to have much of a sense of humor, so Wolfie quickly tucked himself back into his riding breeches and pulled Renata to her feet and took her back to the women’s table. Frieda looked up and said, “Wolfie and his bitch were just helping us with training on this new slave. Getting him close, but not letting him come.”

As Wilma approached the new slave, looked at his semi-erect member and said, “Impressive.” Then grabbing Rune by the hair, she said, “I bet you’re proud of that thing. I bet all the little girls in whatever village you’re from wanted it.” Then she brought the crop she always carried down hard across his still partially erect member. Rune groaned loudly as she continued, “But don’t think you’ll use it any here. True, we might get you hard and keep you in a constant state of erection, but you will not get any release. That shows our power over you, slave. We will control that very thing that makes you male. No longer a man, just a male plaything. Understand?”

Rune quickly said, “Yes.”

“That’s, “Yes Ma’am or Yes, Mistress.” Understand.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Then looking at Frieda, Wilma said, “And what is this slave to be called?”

Frieda answered, “His ‘free name’ was Rune.” Then smiling, she said, “Since that one (nodding to the hooded slave still sitting at the table) is called ‘slave 4’ because of his tiny cock, I thought we might call this one, ‘slave 9.’ What do you think?”

Wilma smiled a cruel smile and said to Rune, “You will be called, ‘slave 9,’ now meet your cellmate, ‘slave 4.” Then looking at Ilse and Frieda, “Take these two away. Commence training on slave 9 and have no let any slack on the small cocked one.” She turned to the two tables where the female slaves were seated and said, “Heinrich, you and your crew take these bitches to the prep room. Madam Gisele has hired some women who are real beauticians unlike that fat Polish whore of ours. They will do their best to make this motely bunch presentable for our guests. They will even get new dresses.”

Heinrich and Wolfie, valets at Haus der Sklavin escorted Nastascha to the large Mercedes waiting at the gate. Stepan, the wealthy Ukrainian man who had purchased Nastascha was waiting in the back seat. He motioned for Nastascha, who had a glazed look in her eyes, to get in beside him, then gave a signal to the driver, and they sped off. As they did so a panel van and another Mercedes that had been waiting to the side of the road pulled to the gate. A window in the Mercedes rolled down and Klaus, the leader of a band of human traffickers leaned out and said, “In the van are the two ‘packages’ that Monsieur Raymond called your boss about. Please let her know that if they are suitable, she can wire me the money at the agreed upon bank in Munich.

Henrich responded, “Yes, she told us to expect you and the two packages.” Then he and Wolfie went over to the van. The back door to it opened and a couple of unsavory fellows pushed two disheveled looking women from the van onto the pavement. One was Renata, the prostitute who had been involved in the shoot out between the traffickers and the INTERPOL/CIA team. The other was the Byelorussian dissident, Irina, who had been acting as the ‘bait’ for the team to draw out the traffickers.

Wolfie looked at the women sitting on the pavement. “A couple of sorry looking whores,” he said. Both had their hands tied behind their backs and were blindfolded. Also, they had their shoes removed. “In case they try to run off, they couldn’t get far,” remarked one of the traffickers before adding, “They’re all yours now.” Then both the van and the Mercedes with Klaus in it, turned around and drove down the secluded lane that led from the abandoned military camp that was Haus der Sklavin.

Idetta was sitting on her bed in the small room that she had shared with Nastascha. She was still naked as the day she was born and smoking the last cigarette she had found in the pack on the bedside tanle. Without warning the door opened. It was Snejana and one of the dominatrices whose name Idetta didn’t know. Snejana was dressed in the standard costume for slaves at Haus der Sklavin – a gray dress that left the breasts exposed, tight at the waist and flared below the hips allowing the lower dress panels to be rolled up, thereby exposing the slave’s rear or sex. Snejana’s dress had, in fact been rolled up in the back, so that an observer could see the red stripes where Snejana had been whipped with a crop. In her hands was a beautiful floral dress suitable for day wear. Snejana went over to the wardrobe that Idetta and Nastascha shared and hung the dress in it. Then she turned to Idetta and said, “It is a going away dress for Nastascha. Her new Master is taking her away soon.”

The dominatrix hissed, “Quiet. You are not supposed to talk to other slaves without permission. Or you’ll be flogged again.” Snejana glared at the dominatrix but said nothing. Then they both left, leaving Idetta alone again. Less than five minutes later the door opened again. Looking up Idetta saw Nastascha being escorted into the room by the valet, Heinrich. Nastascha was completely naked and looked as if she had been crying.

The valet looked at Idetta and then back to Nastascha, “We have a couple of minutes. Show the old bitch how you are marked for your new Master.” With that Nastascha went over to the bed where Idetta was still sitting. She turned around so that Idetta could see the tattoo across her back just above her hip line. When Idetta and her late husband Hans were living in Alabama, Idett ahad seen several young girls at the swimming pool near her house with tattoos in that location. One of her friends had dryly remarked, “They call tattoos there ‘tramp stamps.’” But Idetta had never seen one like the one on Nastascha. She asked, “What does it mean?”

Nastascha answered, “It is Ukrainian for ‘Russian whore.’ I have been marked as a prostitute.” Then sobbing, she said, “And look here.” With that she spread her legs slightly to show Idetta how she had her inner left labia pierced with a large ring and a small disc hanging from it. “It says that I am his property!” Idetta hesitantly took the disc in her hand and looked at it. On one side was the BDSM triskelion, but on the obverse, there was an engraving that read, ‘Property of Stepan Y.’ Seeing that she let go of the disc and said to Nastascha, “My poor dear.” Then in an effort to comfort her friend she added, “But perhaps he calls you his property because he really loves you.”

“That’s enough. Now get dressed. Your Master is waiting for you in his car.”

Idetta then watched as Nastascha went over to the wardrobe that both women had shared and picked out the dress that Snejana had earlier placed there. Looking at it for a while, Nastascha remarked, “At least I have a new dress, not at all like the drab ones we normally wear.“ Then she pulled it over her naked body. Nastascha looked at herself in the mirror that hung on the wall. She saw the image of a young woman in a dress and heels. A woman who would not look out of place on any European street. But she knew that beneath the nice dress was a completely naked woman bearing certain signs that marked her as a prostitute.

Idetta looked at her younger friend and said, “It fits nicely. You look quite beautiful.”

Heinrich slapped the riding crop- one like all the valets carried – against his leg. “Enough. Let’s go.”

Nastascha looked over her shoulder at Idetta and mouthed the words, “I love you. I’ll always love you, Idetta.”

And then Heinrich escorted Nastascha out of the room and Idetta’s life.

Nastascha had met Ivan in a bar in Moscow two months ago, shortly after she arrived from her small village near Mazyr. Ivan seemed self-assured and obviously wealthy- he wore a gold Rolex watch on his wrist. Natascha was delighted when he came over and spoke to her. “You are quite beautiful; what part of Moscow are you from,” he had said. Natascha answered that she wasn’t from the city; instead she was from a very small village but had come to the big city to get away from poverty and ‘farm boys trying to grab my breasts and sex.’ Ivan laughed and said, “I cannot blame them. Would you like a drink?” Nastascha hardly ever drank at home, but she did not want to appear unsophisticated in front of the man, so she said, Sure.”

And so, it began.

Two weeks later, Nastascha had moved into Ivan’s apartment. She was sure she was in love with the man, and hoped he loved her too. He was a good lover, not at all like the grabby boys in her home village. If fact Nastascha usually had an orgasm whenever they had sex – something quite new for her. Ivan bought her some new stylish clothes and did not pester her about working. “I want you here in my apartment waiting for me when I am through working.” Nastascha wasn’t sure what type of work Ivan did. He kept odd hours, often staying out late at night. But Nastascha didn’t care, nor did she ask.

Then one night Ivan brought a man named Vladimir home. He told Nastascha that Vladimir was a representative for a movie studio headquartered in Paris. Vladimir said, “My friend Ivan has told me about you – how beautiful you are. He was not lying. I may want you to be in one of our movies. Are you interested?”

Nastascha was thrilled. She answered, “Yes, of course. What must I do?”

Vladimir answered, “The role I envision for you requires nudity. Is that a problem for you?”

“No,” answered Nastascha quickly.

Then Ivan said, Nastascha, please go into the bedroom and put on that new white negligee I bought for you. Then come in and model it for Vladimir.” “Oh, and take out the nose ring,” said Vladimir. “You will look better without it.”

She did so and returned quickly to see Ivan and Vladimir talking in low tones. When Vladimir looked up he said, “Now please remove the negligee.” Natascha did so and was standing in the room, stark naked. Vladimir turned to Ivan and said, “She is splendid. With some make-up she will do nicely. I will buy three tickets to Paris. Meet me at the train statin at noon tomorrow.” Then Vladimir got up and left.

Later that night as Ivan and Nastascha made love, all she could think about was ‘I am going to Paris. I am going to be on the movies.’

And they met Vladimir at noon the next day and got on the train for Paris.

Nastascha had finished wiping the tears and ruined make-up from Anne Claire’s face and had brushed out the tangles from her hair. She looked at the young French woman and said, “You are quite pretty, my dear. I can see why you were kidnapped. Those men were probably human traffickers. They most likely sold you to this place.”

Anne Claire said, “Is that what happened to you?”

Nastascha replied, “Not quite. I had a boyfriend who told me that he and his friend were taking me to Paris where they had secured a movie contract for me. But instead I was taken to a place called Roissy where I became a sex slave. Later on, I was sent here along with a girl named O. She has since been taken away, and I had a beautiful older woman for a roommate. But now she is also gone.”

Hearing the word, ‘Roissy’ Anne Claire’s blood ran cold. She thought to herself, “Roissy. That is the chateau my boss, Raymond M. took me once. He and his lover were going there to see some type of sex show. Raymond was taking that American CIA officer, Paul, there and took me along to be Paul’s ‘date.’ I think Paul was looking for a former lover – her name was O, too. But he didn’t find her that night. Paul and I ended up in bed later that night. At the time I was Raymond’s secretary, but he thought I did such good work that he got me a job as a junior operative. Later he transferred me to Bonn where I was to keep tabs on Paul and his CIA mission. In fact, it was Paul I was on my way to meet with when I was kidnapped.” Of course, Anne Claire told none of this to Nastascha. Instead he only said, “Roissy? You mean the village where the airport is?”

Nastascha answered, “No. Another place. A place similar to this place. A place where women are trained to be sex slaves – sexually abused and punished for the entertainment of others. But this place also trains men.”

Anne Claire’s eyes flew open wide. “Really!”

Then the door opened, and a valet led in two women dressed in tight fitting gray dresses that stopped short of their chest leaving their breasts completely exposed . He said, “This is Snejana and Anastasia. They will prepare you for your presentation.”