Taming a Tempest

Chapter 3

"This is 0914CF," said the man who delivered her to an office down the hall from the auction room.

"Verify," said the woman behind the desk. The man accommodated by bending Tempest forward over the desk and kicking her ankles wide apart. Then he crouched down and read the newly inscribed numbers.

"Zero," he said.

"Nine."

"One."

"Four."

"Charlie."

"Frank."

Each digit in the tattoo had a precise meaning. It was a serial number that had been developed by an international slavery ring. The "09" meant that Tempest had become a slave in 2009. The "14C" meant that she was the fourteenth person to be enslaved that year in the Caribbean region. The "F" indicated that she was female. The organization maintained an extensive database on all registered slaves that assisted them in slave retrievals, if a slave were to be stolen or escaped, and in aftermarket sales, when an owner grew tired of a particular slave.

The database also contained extensive information about the owners which helped the organization notify potential buyers of the availability of slaves. Once the organization had obtained ownership of the six college friends and been able to assess them, they had used this database to notify the people who were most likely to be interested in them.

Tempest was mortified at what they did with her but now, she also felt defeated. She seemed to be able to exercise no control whatsoever over things that happened. It was just awful.

"Verified," the woman said. "Attach her there and I will complete the transaction."

Tempest was confused. Complete the transaction? Was this the woman who had bought her? The woman sat at a computer and typed out a few keystrokes and then waited.

The woman looked more like a secretary than a slave owner, although she had never met a slave owner so she was not sure what one was supposed to look like. The woman looked fiftyish with hints of gray starting to appear in her brown hair. She was a bit on the frumpy side and wore glasses that were about ten years out of style.

"Let's begin now," the frumpy secretary began after the male left. "We need to validate the database. Tempest Allegra Papadakis. Such a beautiful name. How did your parents come to name you Tempest?"

Tempest just glared at the woman.

"Oh, I forgot," said the woman. "You can't speak. Well, not to worry. The drug will wear off in the next thirty minutes. And the gag will be removed soon enough. It's such a beautiful name. Can you verify that it's your name by nodding your head?"

Tempest refused to verify anything. She was not about to play along with whatever this game was. She just stood defiantly, attached to the pole in front of the woman's desk.

The woman sighed. "Yes. Occasionally this happens. I always hate it when it does. The obstinate girls always regret their lack of cooperation but by then it's too late. The brothels are much less discriminating and don't require a pedigree. It's only the upper class owners that want their slaves to be validated."

The woman remained silent for several moments and then she spoke again. "Shall I notify your buyer that your pedigree could not be verified and that you have been shipped to Bangkok?"

Tempest trembled at the question. She always liked to have choices and prided herself on making the right decision. But these were not real choices. It was lose one way or lose the other. There was no positive outcome. She finally shook her head. She did not know what lay ahead of her when the transaction was completed but she hoped that it would be better than a Thailand brothel.

"Good girl," said the woman. "So do you verify that you are Tempest Allegra Papadakis?" Tempest nodded.

"Our records indicate that you were born February 24, 1983. Is that correct?" Again, Tempest nodded. She felt defeated.

"Okay, good. We are doing well so far. For the rest of this, I will just state a fact and you will nod if it is correct or shake your head if it is not. At the end, the drug should have worn off and we can correct the data."

"Current address is 181A Southwyck Avenue, Winnetka, Illinois." Tempest nodded.

"Previous employer: Seymour, Allison and Pease." Tempest tensed at that one. So far, they could have gotten everything from her passport. How did they learn her employer? Plus, that was her current employer; not her previous employer. She shook her head.

"Oh," said the woman. "You did not work at Seymour, Allison and Pease?" Tempest nodded.

"Does that mean that you did work there?" asked the woman. Again, Tempest nodded.

"Okay," said the woman. "Then that makes it your previous employer. You do not work there any longer." Tempest felt filled with dread at the words.

"Graduated Magna Cum Laude in 2005 from Gulf States University with a Bachelor of Arts in History." Tempest nodded again. How did they know this?

"Graduated in 2007 from Tivoli University with a Juris Doctor." Again, Tempest nodded.

"Father is Theodore Papadakis. Mother is Maria Papadakis, nee Gregorio." Tempest nodded. This was becoming too scary to her. It was like she had been captured and was being held by the CIA.

The woman went through dozens of other facts, all of which Tempest confirmed. It was unbelievable that they had so much information about her. Had she been targeted? Had she been responsible for her friends being captured and enslaved by leading them into a trap? The interview ended and the frumpy secretary thanked her for cooperating. Then she touched a button on her desk and two men entered the room. They led her to her next destination.

It was a large room. Eight poles were arranged in a circle. Four of her friends were already attached to four of the poles. She was attached to a fifth one. She looked slowly from face to face. Each of them was beautiful but each of them looked totally dejected and defeated.

One of them was missing. All of them were there except Carrie. Did that mean that she had already been collected by her buyer or did that mean that she refused to verify information and was on her way to Bangkok? There was no way to ask. They were each effectively silenced by their gags.

She looked back at each one of them and again lamented what she had apparently gotten them into. They were all so loving and so kind and so beautiful. None of them deserved this. She winced as she noticed that each of them had been struck with the cane to demonstrate how she marked.

Elke had marks identical to her own with welts across the tops of her breasts. Kim bore her stripes perfectly through the middle of her breasts, across the nipples. That must have really hurt, thought Tempest. Alaine received her stripes to the undersides of her breasts and Tempest winced at the thought of that. She knew how sensitive that flesh was.

Connie's stripes were across her thighs. To Tempest, that seemed more humane, although she knew that it must have hurt terribly. But poor Tammy was the one she felt sorry for. Her stripe stretched right across her pregnant belly. Not only was she punished but so was her unborn child!

Tempest was miserable. She could clearly see that her friends were miserable. None of them deserved anything remotely like this. It wasn't fair at all. And Tempest was now convinced that she had been the cause.

Based on what she had learned tonight during the ordeal, she wondered if she would ever see any of her friends again. She doubted it.