48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 37: Julie

"You have to realize — and the sooner the better — that your old life is over. You can bet that these slavers are not going to let you escape. If they have an auction party set for tomorrow evening, you can be sure you're going off with a new Owner, your new Master, tomorrow night."

The younger-looking of the women asks, "Please, I'm not very experienced with sex. What do I do? I've never been a magnet for boys, even since school."

I manage a small smile. "This is something you shouldn't worry about. Simply be honest with your new Owner. If he or she tells you to do something you don't know about, you just — as fast as you can — tell your Owner you don't know about it and beg for instruction. In a way, that's going to be a plus for you. There's nothing an Owner likes better than to teach the new slave what the Owner wants and how he wants it."

The man with the broom pauses between our cells and wags a finger at the two women. In broken English, he manages to share his wisdom: "She give good advice. Listen and follow good advice." And he continues to polish the corridor.

There isn't anything more to say, I think, so I back away from the bars of my cell. The other women seem to understand and they sink to a sitting position, holding each other for support, probably as much physical as emotional support. They have moved from the status of free women to mere chattels in only a few hours. They may appear calm and quiet, but I know there is no way they can escape wrenching emotional stress. My own entry to slavery was a bit brutal — Albert and his "assistant" on Blue Bayou — but Master, Igor, and Anne were pretty gentle during the days before I came to Hong Kong. Still, I was continually upset, angry, and on edge for a few weeks before settling into a routine.

There is a change of guards and, eventually, the lights dim. Our cells do not contain any beds, or cots, or even straw pallets. A guard tosses a thin blanket into my cell, with two others for the pair of women in the larger cell. I offer an instant, "Thank you, Sir," and the other women follow with similar thanks. I wave encouragingly and wrap myself in the blanket. In moments, I am ready for sleep.

Celia, however, appears and raps on the bars of my cell. "Julie," she calls out, "wake up, damnit!"

I quickly unroll and come to Position One one meter from the bars where Celia is standing, my head bowed in submission.

"Listen up, slave. We haven't heard a word from that Edward guy. What's going on with them? Don't they want you back?"

Damn! That's a hard question! Of course, I'm hoping my Master and his staffs are trying to figure a way to free me before tomorrow's auction; afterwards, they'd have to deal with a whole new Owner, with a whole new set of priorities. But, who can tell? The accountants might have some "assets and liabilities" figures that counsel against any recovery, right? I try to temporize.

"Please, Mistress, I know that Edward is a senior manager in The Enterprises. I know that they have processes for all sorts of procedures, and they are proud of them. They say The Enterprises is a global platform and they have processes that work all over the world. They say they've been holding slaves for a long time, that they're good at it, and that they plan to continue being good at it."

I finally run down and I can tell by Celia's expression that she doesn't believe a word I've said. With a sort of sniff, she remarks, "If I wasn't sure that your Owner wouldn't like it, I'd whip you until you told me the real truth."

I'm shocked by this disclosure: not that she would whip me — isn't that part of my job description? — but that she's being held back by her feeling that my Master "wouldn't like it." I get an idea how much authority my Owner and The Enterprises wield in Hong Kong!

Unsatisfied, Celia heads off the corridor.

Author's Note: Clearly, Our Heroine has gone "from the frying pan into the fire," as the old axiom goes. What could be taking The Enterprises so long to make an offer to this new slaver gang? Could they really be willing to let Julie go? I'm sure Martin and his team would be interested in your suggestions and evaluations. Just use the Comment button.

— J Spe