SWEET SEX SLAVES

By SUSAN SWEET

"Pretty slave," said Mr. Abdul, as he played with my hair. "You will bring Abdul a good price. I know quality when I see it. You are a special slave."

We drove for hours and the drug had long since worn off, though I was still tied with the silk ribbons. We came to a city, although I couldn't see anything from where I lay with my head in Mr. Abdul's lap. The limousine went down a ramp into an underground garage of some sort and came to a halt.

The limo's door was opened and one of the black men pulled me out of the car and lifted me in his arms., cradling me like a small child. He carried me to an elevator and the elevator took us down several floors.

"Help me."

"This girl don't know her good fortune," he said to the other black man and they both laughed.

The elevator stopped and I was carried down a hallway that was lined with small, barred cells, all of which held people in them. Some of the people were dressed up prettily like me, others were naked, but all were bound in some sort of fashion.

We stopped at a cell near the far end of the hallway and the two men sat me on a chair that was inside. Leaving my wrists and ankles bound by the silk ribbons, they closed my cell door, locked it and left me.

Mr. Abdul appeared a short while later and hung a sign on the outside of my cell, then disappeared without saying a word.

People would come down the hallway from time to time and look at me. Some would carefully read the sign on my cell door and make notes in the note pads they carried; others just stood and stared at me.

I had been sitting in the cell for about three hours when Mr. Abdul appeared again.

This time, he opened the cell door and came over to me. He lifted me to my feet and produced a gold chain that he fastened about my waist. The chain had two small gold brace-

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