With a deep sigh of resignation she turned towards Colin.
"What now?"
He pulled her up by the rope still wrapped around her wrists and stood her to attention.
"For a start," he said, removing her earrings, rings and ankle chain. "We can get rid of this shit. Women need to be naked and that's how I keep them." He stood directly in front of her and weighed her heavy tits in his hands. "I'll tell you what though," he added, "you ain't half kept a good body for a cock sucking bum fucked whore. I expected you to have tits round your waist and an arse sagging past your knees." He looked at the dark saddle of hair where she hadn't bleached it for a while. "You still look like a fucking tart, but at least you're in good shape."
He set off for the door, pulling Melanie behind him.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"You'll find out soon enough," he answered. "Then I'm going to do what we should have done ten years ago."
He dragged her down the stairs and out of the flat to his car, which was parked near the door. Opening the boot he told the naked woman to get in. She did as she was told and he slammed the boot shut, blocking out the faint morning light that was just appearing with the dawn.
If she'd fought for a few seconds she might have been rescued by the milkman out on his rounds. He came around the corner just as Colin was locking her in.
"Morning," he said, cheerily. "It's a cold one, eh?"
"Isn't it just," replied Colin with a smile. "Only us daft buggers stupid enough to be out in it."
The milkman left the usual pint on Melanie's doorstep and went on his way, whistling the theme tune from The Dambusters, as he went.
The sudden realisation that the engine had stopped woke Melanie from her sleep. She had tried to stay awake but had finally succumbed through sheer exhaustion. Now she had no chance of gauging how long they'd been travelling. She felt the car shake as the driver alighted and heard the key slide in the lock.
As the lid began to open she squinted her eyes, preparing herself for the shock of the sunlight. There was none. The car was in some sort of warehouse type building, with a very high roof supporting light bulbs at the end of long cables. Only a couple of them were lit, creating shadows that failed to illuminate the corner recesses.
She studied as much as she could before Colin pulled her into a lean-to office alongside one wall. Inside she only had to see an invoice for Felix Ferry to realise she was in the lorry depot. Colin saw that she'd spotted the letter heading and laughed.
"It won't do you any good, bitch. There's no way you're going to escape again."
He dragged her over to what looked like a huge meat refrigerator and pulled back the lever before flicking on a switch. The door opened slowly with a long ominous groan and a dull orange glow emanated from inside. When the doorway was finally free he marched Melanie quickly to one corner of the room and threaded the rope through the eye of a hook attached to a bar in the ceiling.
Facing into the corner, she allowed her hands to be pulled upwards then felt a strip of leather cross her face forcing its way between her teeth.
As he tightened the gag Colin's efforts pulled back her head and Melanie became aware that she wasn't alone. In two of the other corners she saw a naked woman suspended up by her wrists and gagged as she was. Neither of them moved. Their heads fell limp between their arms, missing the wall only by an inch or two. If they weren't asleep, they could only be dead.
When he finished tying the gag Colin left the room, closing the door. Melanie twisted her head despite the pain and tried to make contact with the others. At least they could see each other if they made the effort. Outside the box, Colin checked the door was locked securely then flicked the switch, turning off the orange light and plunging the women inside into total, complete, soundproof darkness.
Chapter 11
When Peter entered The Forge, Dan was on his way to the bar with an empty glass.
"Just in time," he said, seeing Peter come in and look around. "What do you want?"
"Lager, please. Whatever they've got."
Peter went over to help carry the drinks but Dan motioned for him to sit down and he'd bring them across.
"By the window. Do you want anything to eat? Nuts or something?"
"Nothing thanks, I've already eaten."
It was a testing time for Peter. Obviously Dan believed that he was a Driver and if he was going to get any closer to Susan he was going to have to go along with that and behave like one of them.
"There you go." Dan placed the drinks on the table and dropped down in the seat opposite Peter.
"Where've you been lately? I don't see you at the cafe any more."
Peter took a sip of his lager before answering, using the moment to appear composed and relaxed.
"I spent some time in Suffolk, had a big contract down there, lugging containers out of the port. What about you?"
"Here and there," Dan said, illustrating his point by shaking his hand from side to side. "A bit of this, a bit of that."
"And what about Geordie? He up to much?"
"Up north most of the time. Aberdeen and Edinburgh. He might get down for tonight though. If he makes it, he'll be at the auction."
Peter sincerely hoped not. Convincing the Geordie he really was a Driver would be a lot more difficult.
"Here," Dan continued. "You weren't really thinking of buying those two beauties off Michael were you?"
Peter let out a knowing smile. "What do you think?"
"I think not," Dan laughed. "Can't see any of us with enough clout to out bid the Arabs."
"I can't understand how they smuggle the girls out of the country. Why aren't they checked by customs?"
"Why do you think? A mega rich Arab sheik moving his horses between meetings. Who's going to ask questions? With all his money he hardly needs to smuggle. They take the girls out the same way Michael and the others bring them in. In the secret compartments at the back of the horse boxes." Dan looked at his watch. "Time to get going."
On the way to the show grounds Dan asked Peter if he was going to the passover the following week. Peter had heard the phrase several times lately, though he was unsure of its meaning. All he could do was go along with everything Dan said.
"I'll be there," he told him. "You?"
Dan stopped momentarily to light a cigarette before carrying on his way down the dark country lane. "Never miss them," he said. "Especially the ones held up at Jimmy's."
"Jimmy's?" queried Peter. "I'm not sure I know his place".
A moment of concern crossed Dan's face and he stopped and turned towards the other man.
"How long have you been one of us?" he asked.
Peter's body tensed with nerves, although in the cold night air his sudden movements could be mistaken for the shivers.
He looked nonchalantly away towards the lights of the fair shining brightly across the other side of the field. "About two months," he said. "Just before I met you." He walked casually to the side of the road to relieve himself in the hedge.
Dan pulled a deep drag on his cigarette, the glow from its tip illuminating the concern on his face.
"Who asked you in?" he asked nonchalantly. "Was it Lincoln?"
"No, I don't know Lincoln very well," Peter said, aware of the trap. "I thought I told you that before."
"So you did… you were saying you…" Before he had time to finish Peter interrupted him.
"Actually I did meet him down south not so long ago. Jack told me Felix Ferries had a bit of work. I pulled a few containers for him."
"So Jack invited you in?"
"Did I say that?"