Chapter Fifteen

The Turk shook himself and reached down for the naked girl’s hands. He rolled her over and retied them with a piece of the rope he had just cut. He did not hog tie her, but instead released her legs and pulled her to her feet. He walked her over to the chair in the middle of the room and sat her down in it. She leaned forwards slightly to relieve the pressure on her arms. Her eyes were calm now, almost trusting. He knew he was going to betray her, but he didn’t want her to suffer any more than she had to.

He walked over to his bag and pulled out his medical kit. From there he withdrew a syringe and a small vial. He had used this many times. It was a reliable muscle relaxant and suppressant. As good as Morphine but with a nerve agent similar to that date rape drug the kids used. It lasted about four hours, more than enough time to take Cheryl to the drop off. He had, of course, prearranged it, knowing he would have product tonight. He would never know who had bought this woman, only what he had been paid. He knew only his contact, a telephone number and a floating email address.

Usually he reveled in the packaging part of the job, watching a girl’s terror as she realized that she was to be packed away in a little box, gagged and restrained to the extreme. But tonight, for some reason, he felt sad for this young woman whose life he was about to destroy. He had no choice now, really. If he reneged, they would be both dead in a week.

The Turk steeled himself. This was his work and he was the best. He had to do what was necessary.

He walked over to the girl sitting patiently on the chair. He filled the syringe and tested its fullness by squirting out a small amount at the tip. He needed a vein and decided to select one on Cheryl’s hip.

Cheryl saw the syringe and withdrew fearfully. He was going to kill her after all. Turk saw the expression on her face and knelt next to her. “I’m not going to harm you. I need to get you out of here. I’m going to rebind you and pack you in that box. But you will not be harmed. This shot is to relax you.”

Cheryl’s eyes softened and she nodded yes. He could do anything to her now. She was exhausted and out of emotions. Where he was taking her, she did not know, but she would do whatever he wanted. No one had ever made her feel like he did.

The shot went in without a hitch and Cheryl almost immediately felt its effects. Her limbs became immediately sluggish and her mind began to cloud.

Turk lifted her from the chair and gently brought her to the floor. He removed the gag and untied her hands. She lay there, limply. Turk went back to the box and opened it. Inside were the restraints he would need. He walked back to where Cheryl lay and knelt over her form. She was laying face down on the carpet and ready for her bindings. A piece of duct tape was wound around her wrists after her hands had been placed together, palms facing each other. The arms then slid easily into the leather sleeve he had brought from the box. The sleeve was pulled all the way up to her shoulder and straps pulled under her arms and tied off in the center of her back to a ring on the leather sleeve. Her arms were tightly secured.

The box was of his own design, and had some special features. Normally, it was a problem; do you tie the victim up and lift her into the box? This had the drawback of making it difficult to attach the clamps on the bottom to her restraints. Or did you stand her in the box, force her to kneel and affix the bindings one by one while she knelt there? If she struggled at all, this would be problematic and you risked muscle injury as you forced her to her knees. And again, the same problem, some of the clamps were hard to get to with the female sitting in the box.

He had resolved this by establishing a procedure where the female knelt on the disassembled bottom of the box, was affixed there and the rest of the box built around her. Thus, he proceeded to disassemble the box and brought the bottom over to where Cheryl lay. She was still awake enough to follow instructions. He pulled her to her knees and walked her over to the base of the box. After gently forcing her down again, he strapped her ankles to her thighs and affixed the bindings to the box base. The mask was next.

Once he had put on the hood and mask, she would be just trussed up merchandise. The mask had a gag which resembled a penis but which permitted a tube to be snaked down the subject’s throat for watering and feeding purposes. An oral dose of the drug he had given her could be administered as well. It also had two nozzles that were to be pushed deep into the victim’s nose. This would provide air when connected by tubes to the nozzles on the front of the box. If the box needed to be stored temporarily where there was no air, tubes could be affixed to the hidden outside nozzles and led to an oxygen tank.

It all sounded dangerous, and it was, but the vast majority of the girls transported made it without a problem, other than stiffness and terror at their new surroundings. But that was out of his hands.

The leather hood was applied first. It covered the head, but left the bottom of the face free. Once on, Cheryl’s eyes would be covered by pads that would press into her eye sockets. He took one last look at her face. It was serene and her eyes were watering. The drug had definitely taken effect.

Cheryl could feel herself being packaged, but she could not resist. The drug had overcome her ability to speak and to move. But she had resigned herself to her fate anyway, she would not have resisted if she could. Something, she did not know what, had made he yearn for the touch of this brutal man.

Turk, shaking himself from his reverie, gathered Cheryl’s hair and pulled the hood over the back of her head. His pale face, regretting his purpose, was the last thing she saw. The hood covered her eyes and was pulled tight.

The face piece was next. It was one piece and consisted of the gag and a covering of the nose and mouth. It was important to place the nose plugs accurately and securely. If they came loose during shipment and blocked her air passage, the girl could suffocate. As he pushed the business end of the gag towards Cheryl’s mouth, she managed a whisper. Turk leaned over to hear what she was saying. Her voice was low and soft, “What’s your name?”

Turk checked himself. Names were a no-no. But he felt that she deserved to know the name of the man who had condemned her to Hell, the man who she could and should hate for everything that was going to be done to her. “They call me Turk,” he replied softly. He parted her lips gently with the end of the gag and pushed it home. She stiffened slightly when it pushed down her tongue and into the rear of her mouth. She was silenced.

Turk finished quickly. The nose and stomach lines went in without a hitch. Having finished the application of the hood, he tied the face plate of the mask onto a ring at the bottom of the box and pulled tightly. Cheryl’s head was forced downwards. She now was in a low, kneeling crouch, her breasts pressed firmly into the top of her thighs. The tip of the sleeve that encapsulated her arms had a strap of its own and this was tied to a ring on the box bottom between Cheryl’s feet. Hard to get to if the side was already on.