#sex slavery
A spokesman for the DPRK Foreign Ministry Thursday gave the following answer to the question put by KCNA as regards the decision of Japan and south Korea to make efforts to seek an early solution to the issue of “comfort women for the Imperial Japanese Army.”
It was reported that the Japan-south Korea summit held in Seoul early in November decided to accelerate the discussion on seeking an early solution to the said issue.
As the whole world knows, the sexual slavery for the Imperial Japanese Army committed by the state of Japan in an organized manner in the period of the Japanese imperialists’ occupation of Korea and during World War II is one of the crimes which Japan should redress without fail as it is the most hideous human rights abuses to which no statute of limitations is applicable because it savagely violated the dignity, virginity and physical bodies of women.
In the period of Japan’s occupation of Korea for over 40 years in the last century Japan forcibly drafted at least 8.4 million Koreans, massacred more than one million, forced 200 000 Korean women into sexual slaves, forced Koreans to change their names into Japanese ones and committed such unheard-of monstrous crimes as conducting tests on living bodies. It, however, shunned redemption of those crimes though seven decades have passed since its defeat in the war.
The most cruel and despicable crimes are not such things that allow the assailant to deal with them with one victimized party only out of the victims to gloss over them.
This issue can hardly find a final solution unless the damage suffered by all Koreans is redressed throughout Korea because there are victims of the sexual slavery for the Imperial Japanese Army not only in the south of Korea but also in the north.
Japan should admit the state responsibility for all hideous crimes committed against the Korean people including the sexual slavery for the Imperial Japanese Army and the damage done by them and make reparation for them in such a manner as to be understandable to all Koreans.
Rodong News Team
Verona’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Pierre’s voice saying, ‘Just what do we have here?” Verona looked up and saw her camera man Jacques and Frida, the junior producer who was taking Verona’s regular producer (and lover) Mathilde’s place due to Mathilde’s recovery from Covid, standing in front of a locked door. Frida, her platinum blonde hair done up in a bun, was holding both a tape recorder and notebook in her hands. Verona noticed the look of – what? Suprise? Shock? Bewilderment? - on the face of the young woman. She thought, “They have never seen me when I was unclothed. Usually dressed for my show, ’Discovery with Verona,’ or perhaps casually for rehearsals, but certainly never naked.”
Pierre said, “Who are you? And why are you here?”
Frida quickly said, “I’m the producer for Verona’s television show, and this is Jacques her camera man. Anne Marie said it would be okay for us to get Verona’s thoughts about her first night here.”
Pierre scowled. “I’m to see her to bed. I’m supposed to chain her to her bed just as if she were any other slave here at Roissy.”
Now another voice spoke. It was Anne Marie who appeared from around a corner. “It’s okay, Pierre. I told Frida that she might have a little time to capture Verona’s thoughts. Now, unlock the door and let them have five minutes to interview and film her. Then you may proceed as usual.”
Pierre replied, “Yes, ma'am,” and unlocked the door to the small, cell like room where Verona would sleep during her stay at Roissy.
As the car carrying Slobodan and Janos drove away, the two men looked first at each other, then at O. She seemed to be in shock, not really comprehending what was happening. The men went to her and quickly unbuttoned the overalls that she, like Udranka and Uschi had been wearing. They pulled the overalls off, leaving O naked. They spoke in a language O did not understand but presumed it to be one of the Slavic tongues. She surmised they at least understood some English as that was the language Slobodan had used when he told O what was to be done with her. O looked at her captors and said, “Please do not do this to me. I beg of you. Let me go.”
Instead, the taller of the two men said, “No. We will obey Slobodan. You are to be hanged. But we will do it tomorrow. Tonight, we will drink vodka and enjoy you. Now get on your knees.”
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After the men used O, they chained her hands to the rear bumper of the van. Leaving her in the cold, they got into the van and opened the bottle of vodka. O could hear them drinking and laughing, presumably retelling how they had assaulted her. She thought to herself, “I do not even know their names. They used my mouth and rear and no doubt were making rude comments about my piercing and brand while they did so. I don’t understand their language, but I understood one of them say ‘slave.’ Yes, that’s what I am. A slave. I guess I was born to be a slave. First to Rene, then to Sir Stephen, and finally to Henri. I was just property to all of them. And a Master has the right to dispose of his property. I don’t want to die. Certainly not like this. Raped and then hung up like an animal. But I guess I always knew I would come to a bad end. What does a woman think her end will be when she consents to have her sex pierced and her body branded to prove her love for her Master.”
O’s thoughts were interrupted briefly when one of the men, obviously drunk by now, appeared with a rope with a noose on the end. He said, “Look whore! This is going around your neck and tomorrow we’ll loop the other end over that tree limb there and haul you up. I want you to feel the rope around your neck and think about what will happen in the morning.” Then he got back in the van and O heard the door close.
Idetta sat at the table in the kitchen, the same table where she and Hans used to have supper every night they lived there, and looked at a yellow legal pad. Earlier Idetta, ever the practical German Hausfrau, had made a list of pros and cons about whether or not to continue at Haus der Sklavin. The list contained two columns – one for pros and one for cons. There we’re many more entries on the pro column. Leading the way was money. “Or lack of,” thought Idetta to herself. “Hans’ pension did not transfer to me, nor did we have a lot of savings.”
The cell phone Madam Giselle had given Idetta before she left Haus der Sklavin on her ‘vacation’ buzzed. Idetta, picked the phone up and looked. It was a text from Madam Giselle that read, “I trust you are enjoying your Urlab, but am afraid that by now, you may have run through your meager savings. I have taken the liberty to place several hundred Euros in an account for you, so that you may enjoy the rest of your Urban without worry. The account number is … I look forward to your return in five days as well as your final decision by the end of the month.”
“A nice gesture,” thought Idetta. “But also one to subtly try to influence my decision.”
Somewhat relieved, Idetta fixed a light supper. After eating it, she decided to take a hot bath. As Idetta slid into the steaming water, she thought, “I really should add baths to the con list column. I have always loved to take a bath, even when I was a little girl, but at Haus der Sklavin, the only bathing for slaves is a cold shower. I remember Wilma, one of the dominatrices saying that cold showers were better – they tightened the skin and made one look more youthful. Still, I prefer a hot bath.” As Idetta thought this, her hand slid down across her still relatively flat belly towards her sex. She continued to think “Another reason I liked baths is because, it gave me an opportunity to surreptitiously masturbate. I used to do so when Hans was still alive. He often commented on how lengthy my baths were.”
Idetta’s hand slid further down. She tried to visualize Hans and her making love. She tried very hard, but the images, memories really – didn’t arouse her. Instead, as she slowly circled her clitoral hood with her finger, the images that came, unbidden, to her mind were of strange men at Haus der Sklavin and of Jonas Meinhof on the train.
It had become almost routine. Janos and the other men would drive for hours, then they would stop and assault the women in the back of the van. O thought to herself, “It’s not even about sex anymore; it’s about power. They have the power to make us submit, so they do. The sex is secondary.“ O watched as first the Serbian girl Udranka was raped, then Uschi, the older sister of Uta, whom O knew at Roissy and had later witnessed being crucified in Spain. Udranka didn’t even struggle. “She is just accepting her reality,” thought O. “The reality that she is a sex slave.” She paused as the men, O didn’t even know their names, just some friends of Janos finished with the other two women and pushed them back into the van.
Then they turned to O. She heard Janos say, “Now it’s your turn, whore. But first we need to recover a bit, so I am going to tie your hands to the van’s bumper while my friends and I have a little drink.” After doing so, Janos produced a bottle of what looked like vodka. He took a big gulp, then passed it to his friends, who each took a swig. Then waving the now half-empty bottle at O, he said, “You want some, bitch?” He paused, then grabbed his member and said, “Or would you rather have this?” Then he laughed. O heard the others also laughing.
“No matter! You’re getting this,” said Janos, stroking his now erect member.
With her hands still bound to the van’s bumper, the men spread O’s legs. She felt fingers being thrust into her sex and hands on her breasts, pulling at her nipples. She started to cry out, but instead, a hand was thrust over her face, then pulling her mouth open. Janos moved to her face. O could smell the vodka on his breath. Suddenly he kissed her. Deeply and hard. O felt the fingers in her sex moving, teasing, thrusting. Janos said, “You’re luckier than the other two bitches. We want you to come.”
“It’s about power, not sex,” thought O. But she couldn’t help herself. The insistent hands and fingers and mouths inflamed her. “They are just showing that they have power over me.” She felt her hips begin to move involuntarily. The fingering and fondling and kissing continued. “Dear God, No! Not like this! No!” thought O. (Or did she scream it?) She felt her body begin to tense as Janos thrust his member into her. She groaned as she heard him say, “You like it, bitch? Say it. I know you like it!”
O didn’t say anything; she didn’t have to. Her body betrayed her once again as she contracted and then all she could do was gasp and cry out… Aaah! Aahh! Aahh! And then it was over.
After being used by Janos and the other men, O was pushed back into the van containing the other two women. O lay on the floor of the van as it left the main road and continued down a gravel path.
The van stopped and Janos came to the back and unlocked the door, saying, “Here we are. The new home for you bitches.” Then he came into the van and undid the chains securing Uschi and Udranka. The other two men first pulled them from the van and then O. As O set foot on the ground, she looked up and saw …
Idetta continued to daydream in her seat on the D Zug bound from Ulm to Stuttgart. Occasionally, she looked out the window to watch the south Germany countryside, but mostly she thought about Haus der Sklavin and her time there. “Here I am on a train going home just like any other middle-aged hausfrau. Except, of course, I do not have underwear on beneath my clothes.” She paused a bit as a slight smile came over her face. “But, after all, aren’t we all naked beneath our clothes.”
Then she turned serious. “It’s hard to believe that for the last year and a half, I have been at a place that treats women – and men on occasion- as sex slaves. I have seen women used without their consent, often by several men. Chained naked at night. Given no sense of privacy. Whipped for no reason other than the pleasure of whoever was administering the whip. To think about this sitting on a train in broad daylight, seems terrible. And yet… And yet, I can feel myself becoming aroused just thinking about some of the things I witnessed. And God help me, aroused at some of the things I endured.
And now I am going home for at least ten days. Ten days to remember my life as it was before Haus der Sklavin. Will I be able to resume my life as it was? NO! Of course not. Previously I was the wife of Hans Kleindorf. But now I am his widow. Of course, it won’t be the same. And I must decide after I return to Haus der Sklavin whether to remain there or come back to Stuttgart permanently.”
Idetta sighed. Then thought to herself, “Perhaps the Indian concept of suttee is a good idea after all. A widow, not a wife. A middle-aged woman without a man. What use is that?”
Idetta’s thoughts were interrupted by the D Zug’s stop in Goppingen. The young couple with the two small children, the same couple whose younger child had seen tears forming in Idetta’s eyes when she thought about her deceased husband and had asked the mother, “Mamma, why is that old lady crying?” got off the train. Idetta watched them walking from the train into the station and thought to herself, “Ah, the perfect family – mother, father, and two children, a boy and a girl. If Hans and I had children would that have made a huge difference in my life? They look so happy. I wonder if they really are.”
Lost in her thoughts, Idetta hardly noticed a man choosing the seat across from her. Then when he sat down and Idetta saw his face, her eyes flew open wide.
Idetta remained motionless for a bit, then without yet pulling her skirt down or re-buttoning her white cotton blouse, she looked in the mirror. She saw the same reflection as before, a pleasant face, soft brown eyes whose lids were slightly hooded with a few wrinkles. Also a few wrinkles around the mouth. She thought to herself, “This is the face of a middle-aged Haus Frau, not a woman who has just been bent over the sink in the water closet of a D Zug and assaulted.” She paused, then, “No. Assaulted isn’t the correct word. I did not protest; don’t you have to protest for what happed to be called an assault. I neither told him not to, nor did I consent. Perhaps this is just the face of an old woman who has just been bent over and fucked by a younger man.” Then Idetta straightened her skirt and re-buttoned her blouse and went back to her seat as if nothing had ever happened.
Once seated, her mind began to wander. She thought, “I remember that Russian girl – what was her name; it seems so long ago now. Oh yes, Nastascha. Later she was sold to that Ukrainian man. She once told me after I was taken by a man and actually had an orgasm that I had the makings of a sex slave. Perhaps she was correct because, I did not protest Jonas taking me and in fact, enjoyed it. Enjoyed the actual act, but what about the fear of being caught. How humiliating that would have been. But even about humiliation I must admit I have mixed feelings.” The voice on the intercom came on announcing another stop. “No. This is not my stop either. I still have several to go before I get off the train and go to the little cottage where Hans and I used to live.” Then her thoughts went back to Haus der Sklavin and the girl named Nastascha. “I wonder what happened to her. The man who bought her – I think his name was Stefan - was Ukrainian. I wonder if he took her back to Ukraine, and if he did what has happened to them since the Russians have invaded.” Then Idetta had a vision of Stefan lying dead on a street and Nastascha being manhandled by Russian soldiers. “If that were to happen, I cannot imagine that her Fate would be kind. I remember growing up, my own Oma who before the last world war lived in Berlin telling me stories of the Russian soldiers and how they treated German women. I hope that isn’t Nastascha’s Fate.”
Idetta continued to think about Nastascha and what had possibly happened to her. Then her thought s were interrupted again, “This D Zug is arriving at the main Stuttgart Banhof.” Now, Idetta said out loud, “This is my stop.”
Read the captivating story here: http://ind.pn/1PSmH41
“Soon after buying her, the fighter brought the teenage girl a round box containing four strips of pills, one of them colored red.”
Read it here.
Practicing BDSM often leads to SEVERE ABUSE: A mentally disabled teen girl was imprisoned, trafficked and tortured — for SIX YEARS — by a couple who pimped her out for profit to other sadists for their sick sexual pleasure.
First she was groomed with pornography, as is often the case with sexual abuse victims:
- “She described how the Bagleys initially showed her images and videos of people practicing bondage, dominance, sadism and masochism — or BDSM — and told her it was fun. She signed a contract on her 18th birthday that Bagley said made her his sex slave for life.”
Then she was imprisoned and tortured — sometimes for just for personal gratification, and sometimes being pimped out or turned into live pornography so others could take sexual pleasure in her suffering:
“The girl allegedly suffered water-boarding, electric shock, piercing and mutilation, according to the Kansas City Star.
Four other men have been charged for allegedly paying Bagley to have sex with his ‘slave’ and to watch webcam sessions of her being tortured.”
Clearly sadomasochism, pornography, prostitution and sex trafficking are all very closely related, and if one is against any one of them, one needs to take a stand against ALL of them.
READ THE REST of this tragic story that demonstrates the truly horrific harms of pornography and sadomasochism. WARNING – GRAPHIC AND DISTURBING!
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“BDSM” DEFINITION:
B = Bondage
D = Domination, Dominance, Discipline
S = Sadism, Sadist, Submission, Submissive, Slave
M = Masochism, Master
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A poster raising awareness of Anji Dean’s disappearance, thought to be associated with the sex trade.
17-year-old Anji Dean disappeared from her Washington home around 9-10:30 p.m. on June 23rd. Days before, she texted her boyfriend saying she had gotten involved in a bad situation and that someone was threatening to kill him and her family. A journal was found under her bed, with the chilling statement: “If you’re reading this, I am either missing or dead.”
Her case is believed to be a sex trafficking case for many reasons. She had been hinting, like in the texts to her boyfriend, that she was “involved in something,” “in over her head,” and “scared,” according to her mother. She left behind her wallet, bank card, glasses, and clothes. The authorities have also discovered a cell phone that Anji’s parents didn’t know of.
“People don’t want to believe that children are being sold for sex,” said John Ryan, the CEO of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. “Not in this country."
While the Democratic Republic of the Congo, North Korea, Saudi Arabia and Iran are the worst offenders of human trafficking, the U.S.’s National Human Trafficking Resources Center’s hotline received almost 32,000 calls in 2013, from every state and D.C. in rural, suburban, and urban communities.
According to the Polaris Project, sex trafficking can take many forms. Fake massage businesses and residential brothels are just a few examples. Truck stops are inundated with young girls offering sex for money, often to fill their pimp’s quota. Prostitutes as young as 12 are sold on the streets, and increasingly, the Internet.
Traffickers seduce and coerce women via social media and chat rooms. Targets include girls with unstable home lives, poor mental health, and low self esteem. Once the girls and women are under their control, their sweet talk and flattery disappears, replaced by abuse, threats, and orders to have sex with, in some cases, as many as 48 men in one day.
This June, the FBI and National Center for Missing and Exploited Children partnered for their eighth annual week of scouring streets, truck stops, the Internet and more for victims of child sex trafficking. This year, they rescued 168 children and arrested 281 pimps.
Human trafficking is one of the fastest growing criminal industries in the world, according to the Polaris Project.
"These are not children living in some faraway place, far from everyday life,” said FBI director James Comey. “These are our children, on our streets, our truck stops, our motels. These are America’s children.”
If you or someone you know is a victim of sex trafficking, call 1-888-373-7888 or text to BeFree (233733).
