Chapter 48

Seventeen-year-old Elira Dervishi stared out her window at the dusty haze clinging to the distant mountains that ringed her tiny village in Kosovo. The university entrance exams, her one shot at escaping this suffocating existence, had loomed large, then vanished in a blur of failed tests and crushing disappointment.

A lone girl among five brothers, she now saw no option outside of her family, either here, or marriage to a cousin in the UK. Her father had laughed at her failure to get into university, not so secretly delighted his only daughter would never be a career girl but only a housewife. She secretly longed for more femininity and often stared at herself in the mirror, in her underwear, imagining herself as a pop star, anything beyond the suffocating male household she was in and the patriarchal expectations.

But there seemed no way out. A few months ago, she had stumbled on a forum after going through a depressed rabbit hole of despair. Out of sheer boredom, she had posted pictures of herself in her underwear, and the sleazy messages she had received were almost a tonic. They made her even more depressed, more willing to kill herself. Maybe subconsciously she was encouraging them.

Then, a message - a spark in the gloom. Adnan Hasic, a nineteen-year-old Bosnian Muslim with a name that danced on her tongue, had reached out. His messages were filled with a kindness that surprised her, a humor that made her lips twitch upwards for the first time in months. His profile picture showed a mop of dark hair and eyes that seemed to hold a universe of their own.

In their late-night conversations, dreams bloomed, fragile but persistent. Maybe, just maybe, there was a future beyond the dusty horizon, a future filled with laughter, shared dreams, and a love that transcended borders. Elira clung to this schoolgirlish hope, more of boredom and desperation than anything.

Mekonnen Tesfaye took a deep breath, savoring the small but comforting certainty of the cash in his hand. It was an uncomplicated arrangement, one that allowed him a modicum of control over his days, even if the details of his work remained shrouded in mystery. The routine was simple but crucial: pick up the USB sticks from the post office in Sarajevo, travel to Dubrovnik, and deposit them in a locker. No questions asked, no deviations. He’d tried once to peek into the encrypted files, but the technology was far beyond his expertise. It wasn’t his job to know what was inside—just to ensure it made it to its destination safely. While it made him feel like a spy, Mekonnen remained unaware that the USB sticks contained nothing more than generic files. In reality, they were routinely picked up by cleaners soon after he deposited them and thrown in the bin.

But then, he had few options. After serving a prison sentence for sexual assault in Austria and being deported, he was stranded in Bosnia. The offer for this strange but lucrative job had come after he made an appeal on a subreddit for advice on next steps. The financial stability it provided was a lifeline, a chance to stay afloat.

When given his next set of instructions, Mekonnen did not hesitate. He was to visit the Athletic Stadium Otoka a few times each week and capture footage of the athletes during their training sessions. The task was straightforward: film from the stands, avoid interference, and collect the footage without drawing attention. There were no specific rules against recording from the stands, and the stadium’s policy was generally lenient in that regard.

Still, Mekonnen’s presence did not go unnoticed. The stewards, tasked with maintaining order at the stadium, eyed him with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. His constant presence and the camera in hand made them wary. They occasionally glanced his way, their unease evident, but he made sure to remain unobtrusive, blending into the background as best as he could.

The footage he collected was to be sent to an anonymous contact, and he had learned not to question too much. The less he knew about the end use of his recordings, the safer he felt.

“Good girl Efua, you have adapted well!”

Pembroke lay in his bed within the complex, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. With her face between his legs, Efua moved with a mix of trepidation and resolve, making the most of her first night out of the cell. She served her master with a determined grace, knowing that her best chance at a reprieve from the relentless pain and humiliation of the past weeks lay in her ability to please him. Torture, captivity, and the constant, brutal reminders that she would never see her family again had broken her spirit, but she had learned that her only path to a semblance of a tolerable future depended on her compliance.

Efua used her hand and her mouth to work his rock hard cock in her mouth, expecting him to cum. “No, Efua, not so hard, I don’t want to cum yet, I need to watch this, use your tongue on my balls, gently, very gently!” Efua complied, worshipping the genitalia of the monster who had owned her life since that fateful night on the sea. Her thoughts were on where and who her Master would sell her to, all she understood was that the better she sexually satisfied the Master, the nicer a buyer he might sell her to.

Pembroke was not focusing on Efua, however, but on the screen above her beautiful black body. Kamal Abdelrahman, the wealthy Egyptian magnate, was willing to part with a small fortune for the right toys with which to amuse himself in the last few years of his life. Pembroke had crafted what he considered to be the perfect video to drive the old Egyptian crazy with lust and extract the maximum money from him.

The video featured Gal Avraham and Cassie Johnson. Gal, an Israeli beauty, was particularly attractive to an old Egyptian looking for an outlet for fun, and lustful vengeance. Cassie, a pretty All-American blonde, had her own appeal for the same reasons. Pembroke also thought it was wise to get Cassie out of the picture before she realized that both her parents were now dead.

The video was short but like all others had taken many hours to film. The main issue was motivating the actresses to say the desired lines. Dozens of takes followed by beatings, waterboarding torture, and confinement with spiders and rats, had been required over two days along with makeup to hide trails of tears. Pembroke was patient, it would take as long as it would take. The girls would break eventually and perform their lines, it was just a matter of punishment and time. And when they would watch the finished product in shame they would wonder why they had put themselves through such torture for it.

Gal appeared on screen in an Israeli military uniform, a one-piece boiler suit that clung to her curves. She held a toy gun, dancing and laughing with an enticing playfulness. The skin-tight outfit accentuated her figure, each movement designed to captivate and allure.

“Hello, my name is Gal Avraham. I can be your Zionist whore, to hurt and to punish” she slapped her ass and bent over. “I was a naughty Jewish girl, I let myself get captured, and we know what happens to naughty, Zionist, Jewish sluts. We get raped, beaten and tortured. Do it to me, and I’m such a slut I will cum nonstop and do everything for you!”

She sucked on the toy gun like a cock, her eyes gleaming with mischief and seduction. As she did, Cassie appeared on screen in a bikini emblazoned with the US flag, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders. They danced with each other, their movements synchronized in a provocative display. Cassie slowly unzipped Gal’s green boiler suit, revealing her naked body underneath.

“Hi, I’m Cassie Johnson. My father was a US admiral. But me, well silly me, I’m just an American whore that you can own, and beat, and fuck, and abuse.” She giggled put her finger to her mouth and pouted. “Like Gal here, I got captured, and now we are both ready to be your slaves, for the rest of our young lives.”

Gal, now naked, leaned over and kissed Cassie passionately, her hand slipping underneath Cassie’s top. She turned to the camera, her eyes full of lust and submission. “Oh, Master, see these tits? They can be yours, as can mine! Both our bodies, we are western whores, bitches!” she declared with a provocative tone. She slapped Cassie loudly on the buttocks, the sound echoing through the room, before lowering her mouth to suck on the blonde’s tits.

Cassie took over, her voice sultry and commanding. “We will be your ultimate pleasure. We have no path back to freedom; our only life will be to serve you and you alone.” As she spoke, Gal turned, exposing her ass to the camera, her pussy and asshole visible between her cheeks. Slowly, she lowered her mouth down Cassie’s tummy, reaching her bikini bottoms. With deliberate care, she pulled them down and brought her tongue between Cassie’s legs, exploring her with a mix of submission and eagerness.

Cassie sighed and lowered herself to the ground until she was on all fours, her bottom pointed towards the camera. Gal pulled down Cassie’s bikini bottoms, running her tongue down her ass crack while gazing up at the camera with a seductive look.

“Cassie’s daddy is a big, powerful military man, but he cannot help her now, and will spend the rest of his life wondering where his little girl is. You will be her daddy now. Me too. My military training is useless; now I’m just a pathetic bitch, defenseless against your masculine power. We will serve you for the rest of our lives!”

The background of the movie prominently displayed the Israeli military ID of Gal Avraham and the military credentials of Admiral Herbert Johnson. Pembroke was certain that Kamal Abdelrahman would take great delight in telling Cassie that both her father and mother were dead, but that would not be his problem. There were still other family members to threaten her with, and the Egyptian could use his own threats of physical violence to quell both his slaves.

“That’s a good video,” Pembroke said, his eyes glinting with a cruel satisfaction. He turned to Efua, who lay beside him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and resignation. “You see, Efua? Men love to humiliate and control girls. This is what I am going to do to you soon, and you will be with a Master who will hopefully treat you kindly but strictly. Either way, you have to accept you are a slave, with no option but to make your Master happy.”