StripSearch

4. Night in Chains

Melissa felt the van navigating through more turns, and the bustle of traffic became audible from inside her cage. She deduced they had entered a new town. After driving a bit further, the vehicle gradually came to a halt, then maneuvered backwards into what felt like a parking space before the engine cut out. She heard Karel leave the van, the door banging closed behind him, leaving a brief silence in his wake.

—

Ultimately, Melissa had not been able to resist the arousal induced by the catheter’s vibrations. Although she knew Karel was keeping an eye on her through the rearview mirror, she had succumbed to the need to relieve the sexual tension that had been mounting. Her orgasm had sent shivers of lust through her, albeit tainted by the knowledge that Karel was likely watching her in this private moment.

She rationalized that it wasn't her fault; it wasn't about being brazen. No one could reasonably expect her to endure such prolonged stimulation without seeking some form of release. She attempted to keep her actions subtle, hoping that Karel wouldn’t notice. Had he seen her do it? She didn’t know. She had not dared to confirm this either way, too afraid to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror if she did. She hoped that he hadn’t watched her.

The vibrations from the catheter had felt more intense after her release. They were no longer arousing her but felt uncomfortable instead.

Over time, the continuous vibrations had once again stirred feelings of arousal in Melissa. The urge for relief grew stronger, and she felt despair at the inevitability that the catheter's constant stimulation would drive her to seek sexual relief again, leading to a cycle of her debasing herself repeatedly under Karel’s supervision.

—

Melissa maneuvered herself into an upright, cross-legged seat, not wanting to be caught in an undignified position again when Karel returned for her. She discreetly positioned the urine bag between her vagina and her ankles and waited.

Footsteps and conversation neared, then the van doors were opened. Melissa saw Karel accompanied by an officer in uniform, clutching some documents. Karel was pulling a palette with cages stacked on top of it. Karel took the cages one by one and loaded them into the cargo hold. Melissa saw one with a dog, two cats and a chicken. Each animal was in their own little kennel. Karel secured each kennel next to Melissa’s cage to the wall of the van using straps. After the cages were in place, the officer handed over the papers to Karel and departed.

Karel came back into the van to inspect his work. Melissa asked him: “Are we at the Health Office now?”

“No, this is the port,” Karel replied. “I had to pick up these for the Health Office as well.”

Melissa sighed. “This drive just never ends. I want out of this cage and I want these chains off.”

“Normally for this route I only pick up animals from the port and bring them to the Health Office. I was surprised to receive the pickup request from the airport today. So this has been an unusually long drive for me too.”

Karel checked that the straps holding the cages were tight. “The animals have been tranquilized for transport, that is why they are so well-behaved.” Karel told her. He looked at her. “I have some tranquilizer in the med bag. Do you want some? I can give you an injection.”

“No, I don’t want to be injected with anything.” She hastily replied, horrified at the idea. “But I’m hungry and thirsty. Can I have some food?”

“You’ll be fed at the Health Office”, he said. “But I can give you some more coke.”

He got the bottle from the driver’s cab and held it through the cage bars for her so she could drink from it again.

Melissa drank eagerly, trying to replenish the fluids she'd sweated out, pausing for breaths between sips. Karel was patient, repeatedly offering the bottle until she was satiated. "Thank you, Sir," she expressed, already sensing a fresh wave of perspiration forming with the new intake of liquid.

The trip continued.

By the time the van pulled over and stopped it was pitch dark outside.

“Are we there now?” she asked when Karel opened the doors of the cargo hold and came in.

“The Health Office is closed now.” Karel told her. “We will spend the night here and go there tomorrow morning when they reopen.”

Melissa shut her eyes, processing this development. “But where will I sleep?”

Karel pointed at her cage. “You can stay here. I have brought you an inflatable pillow so you will be more comfortable.” He slipped the pillow through the cage bars to her side.

Struggling with the reality, Melissa questioned, “Are you saying I will have to spend the night in this cage?”

When Karel gave her a confirming nod, she protested: “No, no, no… This can’t be happening. I have been cramped in this tiny cage for so long now. And this,” she grasped the catheter's tube protruding from her vagina and, lifting it slightly for emphasis, “this will stay in me all night?”

“Of course,” he said. “You can’t go to the bathroom while you are caged. And I don’t want you to make a mess in my van.”

Melissa exhaled deeply, fighting to quell the anger bubbling within her at this injustice. This was so unfair! She imagined Arbek had by now checked into some cozy hotel, lounging in a plush bed, clothed, and certainly without an invasive tube in his urethra. He had the freedom to stretch out at will, while she couldn't even stand in this minuscule cage. Not to mention, he was unrestrained. She envied his chainless slumber and the luxury of a shower he must have enjoyed. Oh, how she longed for a shower! The scent of her own perspiration, accumulated over hours in the stifling cargo space, was now all too apparent to her.

The thought of sleeping in her chains horrified her. Her wrists were hurting from the handcuffs. She couldn’t bear being in them until tomorrow. Melissa pleaded with Karel: “Sir, please can you take my chains off for the night? It is exhausting wearing them for so long. Please. I swear I won’t make any trouble. I don’t want to spend the night chained. I’m caged anyway. I can’t run. Please, Sir.”

Karel gave her a compassionate look. “I’m afraid the chains have to stay on Melissa. This is for insurance purposes. If a slave is lost in transit the insurance only pays if the slave has been caged and chained. It clearly says so in the terms and conditions of the insurance contract.”

“Just the handcuffs then please,” Melissa begged. “You would still have me chained by my ankles.”

Karel considered that. “Hm. Maybe…” he pondered. “If I take off your handcuffs, promise me you will not take advantage of it! No escape attempts! And no reaching out of the cage.”

“Yes Sir,” Melissa replied with budding hope. “I swear. Please, I will be good, Sir. Just take the cuffs off me. They are hurting my wrists.” She held her cuffed hands in front of her.

Karel reached into his pocket and retrieved a bunch of keys. He reached through the bars of Melissa’s cage and opened the hated handcuffs.

“Thank you Sir,” Melissa whispered, touched by the unexpected kindness Karel was showing her.

“I just can’t say ‘no’ to a lovely lady,” Karel gave a friendly laugh as he snapped the handcuffs around the bars at the side of Melissa’s cage. Melissa was now chained to her cage. But since she was also locked into it that didn’t matter. And the central chain was long enough that it didn’t restrict her movement in the tiny cage.

Melissa looked at her wrists, noticing the red, irritated skin caused by the handcuffs. She had painfully jerked against them earlier today; First when she had tripped on the stairs, and then again when the guard had used his taser on her. Even now, she would sometimes pull against them, not yet adjusted to her restraints. Previously, movement had been effortless, but now, her attempts to move were frequently met with the painful bite of her chains.

Karel saw this. “I think there is a cream in the med bag," he said. He went out to fetch it from the driver’s cab. He returned with a jar. He kneeled before Melissa’s cage and, reaching though the bars of Melissa’s cage, applied the ointment from the jar to her wrists. The ointment felt cool and soothing.

“Thank you, Karel,” she whispered.

“No worries Melissa,” Karl replied. “You are so beautiful. Your master must be a lucky man.”

Melissa smiled weakly but didn’t reply.

Once finished, he closed the cargo hold's doors, extinguishing the light.

Left in the dark, Melissa attempted to settle in for sleep. She positioned her head on the inflatable pillow Karel had provided, her head brushing against the cage's end bars. She placed the urine bag to sit just south of her vagina between her legs, feeling a slight tug in her while moving it around. She arranged her legs in a triangular shape with her upper thighs forming the sides and her lower legs crossed atop one another. Reaching up, she gripped the bars overhead, relishing the stretch in her shoulder after the prolonged restraint at her waist level.

She listened as Karel settled into the driver's cab, likely converting it for rest.

Silence eventually blanketed the space with only the soft breathing of the animals in their respective cages audible. As her vision adapted to the darkness, faint starlight filtered through the window. Melissa was acutely aware of the catheter but tried to dismiss the sensation.

She recalled the fateful events of the day deeply regretting their ruse at the border and wishing she could make it undone.

She thought about Arbek and their relationship. She called him her boyfriend, but they had really only met a week ago at a party. Their relationship had taken off so quickly. Arbek was spontaneous and full of joy, unburdened by excessive concern, markedly different from her usual circle of white friends. His spontaneity had initially charmed her, but today, his lack of foresight had led to a day with more suffering and humiliation for her than she could ever have imagined.

Melissa wondered what Arbek was doing. He would probably be in bed by now. Was he worrying about her? She hoped so. Her life was in his hands. These people here viewed her as his slave now. That meant he owned her. Once he had her, he could do with her whatever he wanted.

If he decided not to free her he could force her to serve him. To do whatever he wished. She had no rights. He could whip her into compliance. He could sell her if he wanted. As a white girl she would fetch a high price, she was sure. People would pay for having an exotic slave girl like her. Arbek could make a lot of money selling her if he wanted. Then she would likely end up as a maid and sex slave to a rich Grabesian man for the rest of her life. She shuddered at the prospect. Could he have deliberately tricked her into coming here and becoming his slave to do that? Had it all been part of a big plan? If so, it had worked. She was enslaved and at his mercy. The idea seemed too sinister, yet it haunted her.

But Arbek would never do that to her, would he? No, he wouldn't, she was sure. Although she had only known him for a week she was sure that he was not mean spirited. There was no malice in him. And he had great friends. Three friends to be precise, one guy and two girls. All three were from Grabesh. She knew them and they had accepted her into their friend group. No, they would not be friends with Arbek if he was a bad person, she concluded.

He would get her out of here. He would track her down, wherever Karel was bringing her, to this elusive Health Office. And get her out of the clutches of this system. But would he? New doubts entered her mind. He was not mean spirited, but he also lacked discipline and was easily distracted. Would he persist in searching for her or simply move on when he didn't find her at the airport? She hoped he would.

They had not been a couple for long. She called him her boyfriend, but had he ever called her his girlfriend? She tried to recall an example but couldn’t. Did she mean enough to him to be worth the effort of rescuing her? Yes, she told herself. He would not give up on her so easily. She was a pretty girl, and he couldn’t keep his hands off her. But what if he met another woman here? Would he be distracted and forget about her? No, that was absurd. She had to stop worrying, she told herself. She had to sleep.

She tried to shut out these thoughts and find some rest. Tomorrow she would be delivered to the Health Office. She would get through their checks and then hopefully Arbek would pick her up and free her.

Her thoughts kept running on for a long time until she finally drifted into an unsteady sleep.

5. Visa or Slavery

Earlier that day

"We're next," Melissa said nervously. Arbek knew they were next in line, but he also knew she was anxious.



Everything had escalated so fast. Tensions in England had been rising for weeks, but lately, things seemed to be spiraling out of control. Everywhere Melissa went, she encountered either riots or crowds on the brink of chaos. The constant backdrop of house alarms and police sirens had become an unwelcome part of her daily life.

With the recent spike in violence, they had decided to leave the country. Finding a flight seemed impossible until Arbek found there were still seats available on a flight to his homeland, Grabesh. They made a spur-of-the-moment decision to go. So they spontaneously decided to go there.

The official at the passport control motioned for them to approach.

Arbek and Melissa handed over their passports. The official returned Arbek's but kept hold of Melissa's. "Where's your visa?" he asked.

Melissa’s gut clenched. This was the moment she had been afraid of. Grabesh had no visa free agreements with the United Kingdom. And she didn’t have a visa. Arbek had told her he would handle this. “She is with me,” he said and made his heart-warming smile to the official.

“That doesn’t matter. Rules are rules,” was the stern reply.

“It was an emergency, and we didn’t have time. Could you not make an exception?”

The official stared unmoved at the two.

"I can make it worth your while." Arbek finally said and pulled out a few banknotes.

Beads of sweat were forming on Melissa’s forehead. She hoped the official would take the bribe and end the uncertainty.

Upon seeing a sufficiently large amount of cash on the table the official’s face relaxed and he smiled. “Well I guess I can make an exception here.” He reached for the cash and smiled. “You are a beautiful couple and nothing should separate true love.” He winked at Melissa.

“What is going on here?” A stern voice came from behind the booth. Unnoticed by the group another uniformed man had approached. By the timid look of the border guard this was likely his supervisor, Melissa surmised.

“Nothing,” the startled border guard replied. His hand that had been reaching for the money abruptly pulled back. “The lady here has insufficient documentation to permit entry.”

The supervising officer, eyeing his subordinate, then the banknotes on the counter and finally Melissa clearly knew what he had walked in on. He could sense these shenanigans from miles away, and he was tired of them. He took Melissa’s passport from the border guard and thumbed through the pages. “Miss Maurer, please follow me,” he finally told Melissa.

Arbek followed them and the group and the three entered an office through a sturdy door. The supervisor settled behind a desk while Melissa and Arbek sat opposite. The door clicked shut metallically behind them, revealing no handle on the inside, only a knob, suggesting they were locked in. Melissa's anxiety spiked, her forehead beading with sweat.

"I'll keep this brief," the supervisor started, his gaze fixed on Melissa. "Without a valid visa, you can’t enter Grabesh. You'll be on the next flight back to England. Until then, you'll be held in immigration detention."

Melissa's eyes brimmed with tears. "But England is unsafe for me now. Please, I can't go back," she implored, meeting a stony expression.

"There are no flights heading to England right now; they've all been canceled because of the unrest," Arbek interjected. "Just allow her to stay with me. We are together, and I'll take full responsibility for her. She won't cause any issues. I vouch for her."

"Illegal migrants must be sent back. We can't simply accept people based on mere assurances," the official stated firmly. "Miss Maurer will remain detained until her deportation. She'll board the next available flight. Typically, there's a weekly service to London, but with those flights suspended, she'll remain in custody until service resumes, however long that takes."

Melissa was in disbelief, the situation far grimmer than she had feared. She had never ventured outside Europe, where her British passport had always sufficed without the need for a visa. She had thought she could sort out the paperwork upon arrival, especially under emergency circumstances. She'd never had a run-in with the law, and now she was facing detention in what felt like an airport jail. Tears began to fill her eyes.

Arbek saw her, feeling a pang of sorrow. He wished desperately for a way to stop the way this was going.

The official rose to his feet and instructed, "Stand against the wall and place your hands behind your back." Melissa, feeling detached, numbly complied. Behind her, there was the sound of clinking chains, followed by the cold touch of handcuffs snapping shut around her wrists, click by click. He then opened a different door, not the entrance they used, but one leading to a corridor. Upon opening it, a guard in uniform was revealed, standing ready. "Please follow the sergeant," the official directed, gently steering her toward the door by her arm.

“Wait!” Melissa heard Arbek’s voice behind her. “Don’t take her. Melissa is my slave.” Melissa couldn’t process what she was hearing. Her mind was racing, the feel of the handcuffs was fanning a panic in her and the prospect of detention was spreading a sense of dread in her.



She vaguely remembered that Arbek had told her once that slavery was still a thing in his country. The way he said it showed her that he considered slavery as a practice from backward cultures and sounded like he was embarrassed that his own people were actually still doing that. Arbek was glad that his parents had left Grabesh when he was still an infant and that he had grown up in England where he could live in the modern world.

The supervisor looked at him incredulously. “Don’t play games Mr Gurtan. What are you trying to do here? Miss Maurer is not your slave. And making false statements will only get you into trouble.”

“Please give us five minutes alone. I’ll talk to her and this will be cleared up.”

The supervisor gave him a look showing he wouldn’t have any of it. His hand was still holding Melissa's arm, who felt gut-wrenchingly helpless from having her arms restrained behind her back.

"Just five minutes, Sir," Arbek tried. "Then the situation will be resolved. Please. Think about the paperwork it will save you if we can resolve this."

The mention of the paperwork did seem to hold some sway in the man’s mind. Gruesome thoughts flashed in the supervisor’s imagination involving endless forms and files. This was no ordinary case; it involved a white girl, and her situation could attract significant attention. He envisioned the deluge of forms he'd need to complete, the statements he'd have to draft, and the ongoing communication with his higher-ups. Handling this could stretch over weeks, possibly months. In the worst case the press could hear of a pretty white girl being detained and her picture would be all over the news garnering her sympathy and making his beloved border police unit look like a gang of brutes on a power trip.

“Fine”, he conceded at last. “You have five minutes.”

The supervisor let go of her arm, left the room and closed the door.

Melissa couldn’t hold her tears back any longer and began to sob hysterically. “Arbek, this is a disaster. What are we going to do? I’m so afraid!”

He stood up and held her in his strong arms in a hug. “Listen to me,” he said. “I know how we can get out of here. It will sound crazy, but I have an idea.”

Melissa reflexively wanted to return the hug but the handcuffs held her arms firmly behind her back. She looked up at him questioningly.

“Remember I told you how slavery is still a thing around here? This place is so backward, but in this case it may help us. We’ll just tell them that you are my slave. Just play along. As my slave you don’t need any papers like a visa.”

“What? Huh?” Melissa gave a confused look. “Arbek, this is serious, they are about to lock me up because I don’t have a visa…”

“And slaves don’t need visas,” Arbek repeated. “I know it is counterintuitive but these people - or, well - ‘my’ people don’t see slaves as people but as property. And for property no visa is needed. Problem solved. You’ll come with me. We will be out here in no time.”

“This is absurd,” Melissa countered. “What is this supposed to mean? I’m not a slave. I can’t be a slave.”

“Look. I think it is absurd as well. But it is this culture that is absurd. We’ll just tell these guys that you are my slave, and then we get out of here. Once we are out, nobody will care. We will just go back to normal. It is just to dodge the paperwork problems. Then we’ll get out of here and forget this ever happened.”

“No way!” - is what Melissa wanted to say. She wanted to gesture her refusal with her hands and once again felt the restricting tug against her movement from her handcuffs holding her hands in place. She swallowed what she was about to say. In a few moments the supervisor would return and take her into some kind of detention cell. That was where she was about to go, she remembered. She felt despair and her gut clenched again. She would be locked in a cell in an African country, separated from Arbek, the only person she knew here. She would be locked up for who knows how long in some third world prison. Stressed and conflicted she quietly whispered “fine” while she felt a wave of cold sweat beading all over her body. They’d put on a show for the supervisor, they’d say that she was Arbek’s slave. Then, they’d walk out of the airport and forget about this incident.

“Great,” Arbek said and smiled. “We’ll be out of here in no time. I’m hungry. There is great food in town. I can’t wait to take you out and show you authentic Grabesh cuisine.” Melissa calmed down a bit. Mentioning food reminded her that she hadn’t eaten since this morning. There had been no food on the flight. She hadn’t noticed her hunger because of her apprehension and stress. But now that the prospect of this being soon resolved was dangling in front of her, she could feel her stomach rumbling.

The door opened and the supervisor came in. “Did you two manage to get your stories straight?” He looked at both of them.

“I want to declare that Melissa is my slave. Therefore, she no longer requires any paperwork,” Arbek declared, trying to make his voice sound official.

“So you are really going with this?” the supervisor said. Melissa wasn’t sure, but it looked like the supervisor was rolling his eyes. How unprofessional, she thought. The sentiment was definitely in his tone. He turned to Melissa, “So you, Miss Maurer, confirm that you are a slave and Mr Gurtan here is…”, he sighed like an old man who has seen it all and is tired of the transparent fibs children make up to get out of trouble and then continued, “...your ‘master’?” The supervisor said the word ‘master’ in a sarcastic tone.

Melissa felt his gaze on her. Here she was, handcuffed with a uniformed border guard waiting for an answer. Depending on what she said next, she could either be locked into a cell in an African detention facility for an open-ended amount of time, or she could walk out of the airport with Arbek, get some food and forget about all of this. Yes, it would be a lie, but who cared? The officer could not disprove them, and it would get them out of here. They would never see this guy again. She saw the baton on his belt and all she knew was that she wanted to get away from this man. She took a breath and said in a tone as if she had rehearsed the words: “Yes, I am a slave and Arbek is my master.”

The supervisor stared at her. “This is absurd. You are a citizen of the United Kingdom. Do you even know what being a slave means here in Grabesh?”

Melissa, yearning to be rid of the handcuffs and getting some food into her mouth, declared: “Yes, I understand what being a slave means. Arbek… I mean Mr Gurtan… I mean Master Gurtan has explained it to me.” She hoped that “Master Gurtan” was the correct title. She had never looked into Grabesh and its culture. She really knew nothing about this country, she realized.

The supervisor was still staring at her. Finally, he mumbled something that sounded like “ridiculous”. He turned to Arbek, “Where is her collar then?”

Arbek looked startled. “Um, I don’t have one… I mean, I don’t have one right now, um, she is a new acquisition, um…”

The supervisor interrupted in a condescending tone, “Of course you don’t have one. You are Grabesian Mr Gurtan. Surely you know that keeping a slave without a collar is a regulatory offense?”

“Um, of course, Sir, um… I’ll get one for her as soon as possible…”

The supervisor gave him a stern look and Arbek went quiet. “Quit the pretenses Mr Gurtan. I’m not a fool. I see what is going on here. You talked this fine free lady into declaring herself your slave. And as much as I would like to, I can't stop you from pulling this stunt. Ok, fine, she is your slave. But then, I can’t allow Miss Maurer to walk out of the transit zone without a collar, masquerading as a free woman. Then I would be allowing a regulatory offense to be committed. And I won’t do that. I can’t stop your stupid slave scam, Mr Gurtan, but if Miss Maurer is a slave then she will have to be in compliance with the regulatory code.”

“Of course, Sir,” Arbek said nervously.

He paused and looked at them both. First at Arbek, then at Melissa and finally he asked: “For the last time: Is this the story you are going with? You, Miss Maurer, are Mr Gurtan’s slave?”

Melissa gulped and looked at the supervisor. His eyes were looking into hers. She lowered her gaze to the floor and nodded. This better be over soon, she thought to herself and whispered, “Yes, Sir.”

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve heard all week,” the supervisor said.

Hoggle: I like the darker theme. The background in the first part of this chapter really told the reader that their is no deep long relationship between Melissa, Arbek and even his three friends. I love the background information. Melissa's unique situation will be a liability not an asset possibly. She is a beautiful young white woman, clueless about the customs and practices in an small African country few people even heard of. This could now be an interesting story of sexual slavery. Good luck with this direction.

Hey lovethissite,

lovethissite wrote: ↑Thu Jan 02, 2025 5:02 am Hoggle: I like the darker theme. The background in the first part of this chapter really told the reader that their is no deep long relationship between Melissa, Arbek and even his three friends. I love the background information. Melissa's unique situation will be a liability not an asset possibly. She is a beautiful young white woman, clueless about the customs and practices in an small African country few people even heard of. This could now be an interesting story of sexual slavery. Good luck with this direction.

Thanks, I'm glad you like it!

It was actually a rearranging of the existing chapters:
Apparently that is called "frontloading", where the story starts with something more exciting to get readers hooked early. Something I've been thinking about for a while.

And I tried to give the first few chapters (slightly) better names.

Hoggle: Keep up the great work your revisions are working! The next nine days are looking exciting and educational for Grabesh's newest sex slave.