Amy

AMY Transported

 

As  Amy sank to the floor unconscious, Sheila unfastened the lock holding the chain about her waist, and with practised ease lifted Amy over her shoulder and carried her upstairs, and out of the cellar. Covering the girl’s naked body with a thick plastic sheet, Sheila placed her back in the boot of the car. It was an hour’s drive to the airport, but Amy would know noting of this. Sheila’s mind was already on the new girl at the office. She was a blonde thing, but surely there was a market for blondes as well.

 

As the airport came into sight Sheila slowed the car down and pulled up by a building on the outskirts. This was perhaps the best buy she had ever made. It wasn’t a large building, but large enough for what was needed. The sign outside said “ Woodlands Export”, though there was hardly much exported from here, just the occasional package to north Africa.

 

Pulling up outside the building, and under cover of the darkness, Sheila opened the boot and lifted Amy out, throwing her over her shoulder and swiftly moving inside the building. There were several identical boxes inside, each just over six foot long and three foot wide. They were marked as machine parts, but they had never had anything metallic inside them.

 

Each of the boxes was lined in a soft foam like material, and had several straps fixed to the sides. Lowering Amy into one of the boxes Sheila worked swiftly to strap her arms and legs in place, and two straps across her body. Amy would not be moving during the flight.

 

A man who Sheila employed and paid high money to was waiting with the fork lift truck, and once the box was sealed, lifted the box and drove to the waiting plane. Passport or not, Amy was about to take the flight of her life, the last flight of her life.

 

Sheila had never bothered to check up on what happened to the girls she had sent over, once they were gone, she gave them no more thought. They were slaves, that much she knew, but as long as there was a market for them, Sheila would continue to provide for it.

 

The man drove the fork lift to the plane and slowly loaded the box, not out of respect for Amy, who he had never met, but if he damages the plane Sheila would have his guts for garters. Once on board, the man climbed inside the plane and secured the crate to the floor, and then climbed into the pilots seat.

 

“You know where to go?” queried Sheila.

 

The man nodded, and started the engines. He had made this trip several times before, and, as usual, knew he had to fly low to avoid detection as he left the British coast line. It would take several hours to get to his destination, but that was fine, he was being well paid.

 

It was a quiet flight, as all his flights were, no passengers to worry him, no co-pilot just himself and his music player. Though it was dark when he had set off, he knew it would be daylight by the time he landed at the airport.

 

He concentrated on the flight itself, never once worrying about his cargo. In all the time he had worked for Sheila, he had never once opened one of the cases, had he done so, he would have been very surprised to see exactly what the machine parts were. To date, unknowingly, he had transported six girls into a life of slavery, Amy was number seven.

 

The badly lit airport appeared on the pilot’s horizon, and he made all the necessary adjustments, and moved in to land. The strip wasn’t really big enough, and any mistake would have the plane screaming into the bush at the other end. But with practised ease, the pilot landed the plane, stopping outside the terminal where two men were waiting.

 

As usual, neither of the men spoke to the pilot, simply unloaded the case from the plane, and loaded it into the waiting truck. Both men had dark skin, and to the best of the pilots knowledge, he had never heard either of them speak.

 

Having loaded the case, the two men climbed inside the truck, and drove off.  The pilot had done his duty, and it was time to return to base.  How long before the next trip?

 

The truck was driven at a steady pace over lumpy ground. Had Amy been awake she would not have enjoyed the trip very much. Even though it was still early morning, the sun was rising and it’s heat was already substantial. Amy had been used to European temperatures, now she was about to get used to equatorial temperatures.

 

The drive took most of the morning, but neither of the men seemed bothered by the heat. At one stage the truck stopped and Amy’s box was opened.  The men took little if any interest in Amy herself, but sprinkled her with water to stop her “drying out” on the heat.

 

Though Amy would never get to appreciate it from the outside, the building the truck finally pulled into was like a palace. The domes of the roofs and towers were Persian, old Persian. The walls high and fortified. Had she been able to see it, Amy would have known escape from here would have been impossible, an a waste of time, there was no village or town closer than a hundred miles. A hundred miles of pure sand, and unbearable heat.

 

Having arrived, the two men unloaded Amy’s box and placed it onto a wheeled trolley, and pushed it to the medical wing of the building. A doctor and nurse were waiting impatiently, and hurried the men along, lifting the girl out of the crate and placing her on one of the two operating tables, before leaving, their task completed.

 

The doctor consulted his notes and turned to the nurse. “she is to be shaved, head, arms legs, cunt. Not a single hair is to be left on her body”

 

The nurse nodded her head and moved towards the equipment trolley.

 

It took several minutes to shave the hair from Amy’s head, first reducing it to a quarter inch stubble, and then using shaving foam and a razor, removing the stubble as well, leaving only a smooth surface. Amy’s hair would re-grow in time, but it would never be as long again.

 

Within an hour, Amy hadn’t a single hair on her body, some had been shaved. Like her head, and some had been waxed off, Amy’s only saving grace was that she had not been awake to feel it.

 

“okay” said the doctor as he re-appeared.” This one is to be pierced four times on each labia, both nipples pierced, and enhanced fertility injections.”

 

Amy, it had been decided, would become a breeder slave, her only purpose in life would be to reproduce daughter slaves for her owner. Not that Amy would ever become a mother in the true sense of the word, as soon as she gave birth, her daughters would be taken from her and raised by other slaves. She would never actually get to see or raise any children she gave birth to. If she gave birth to sons, unknown to Amy, they would be taken into the desert and disposed of.

 

Injecting her with the enhancer drug, Amy would now be forever fertile, though the drug had to be re-applied once a month. The piercings took only moments, her labia pierced first, and a leather thong placed through the holes, like a boot lace, holding her pussy closed unless required. Her nipples were both pierced, large holes, not like the piercings for nipple rings, these would hold much larger implements. Plastic lugs were pressed into each nipple piercing, ensuring that they would always remain open.

 

Eventually, the Doctor was satisfied and instructed the nurse to take Amy to a holding cell, where she would stay until further notice.

 

Several hours later Amy started to awake. She had mixed feelings, wonderment at where she was, and pain, both in her nipples and her pussy lips. She wanted to explore, but her hand still cuffed behind her stopped her doing so.

 

She remembered, or thought she did, Sheila telling her something about being sold, and other things that she couldn’t quite remember. What was it? Other girls? What other girls?. Where was she?. Why did her pussy and tits hurt?

 

The room Amy was placed in was quite small. Only six feet wide and eight feet long, no decorations as such, just black painted walls. There was no furniture, and a bucket in the corner should she need the toilet. Her hands were still cuffed behind her, and her legs still with the eight inch chain hobbling her.

 

At that time she didn’t even know her head had been shaved, though she could feel there was something different.

 

She sat in the cell and cried. So much had happened to her. This had meant to be an eight hour game of self bondage, and had now turned into something much more. Sheila, her friend, had been anything but. She had arranged for Amy to be fucked by strangers, had abducted her, chained her and SOLD her. Surely by now someone would be looking for her? 

 

Amy tried to work out what day it was, but had no real idea. It was, according to Sheila, Monday, but was it still Monday?  Was it ever Monday? Surely this was another part of the game that Sheila had organised to make the game more believable?

 

Only her hunger and the dark walls told her that this was real. Somehow, Sheila had really sold her to another man. The blindfold may have been removed, but there was still darkness all around her. She could see the “toilet” in the corner, but there was nothing to lie on, nothing to sit on.

 

How long would she be kept here? Why was her pussy and her nipples hurting so badly?

 

Had she known the answers to these questions. Amy would surely have freaked out. But in the darkness she was unable to see her new piercings.

 

 

What was to become of her? How could she get away, go back to her life and her job?

 

Why wasn’t someone looking for her?