Vatour: The Basis Of Freedom Is Choice

The Basis Of Freedom Is Choice





















- Kerina Snyman



Like a lot of the other women who were with me in the basements of those houses, I was tricked. I was desperate for money and I found a job application on the internet, about a special kind of "modeling". No experience was required, all I had to do was fill out a form and send a picture. I got an e-mail two days later, saying I'd been accepted. Looking back, I sometimes feel like an idiot. I spent the last of my cash on a plane ticket to Scotch, I was always told how great it is to live here. It was all a lie, a marketing shtick used to lure in the desperate and the vulnerable.

When I got off the plane, I was greeted by a tall, slender man in a black suit. His skin was a warm ivory tone, he had cool blue eyes, he was also bald. When he spoke he was so charming and polite that I let my guard down. We talked as he led me to his car. Now that I think about it, I never got his name, he led me to this big beach house, away from most of the city. He told me to wait in the car, then went into the house. I didn't see him again after that. I never got his name.

After a while, another man showed up, he asked me to follow him inside. He was an ugly man, in looks and attitude. He was rude and perverted, but I really wanted the job so I didn't complain. He told me to go up the stairs to a room on my right, that there would be clothes on the bed for me to change into. I put on a swimsuit, a photographer took some pictures and they told me they'd get back to me the next day.

I was told I was a natural, so they had me doing more shoots. The ugly man, who was called, Kubok. I guess that was his nickname. He was a lot nicer to me then, in fact, he actually apologized for his rudeness and they paid me well. I loved the quick cash.

As time went on the stuff I had to do, started becoming more and more... risque. It went from sexual poses to touching myself and strip teasing in front of a camera,  to "performing" for random guys, as well as Kubok's thugs in a few months. I hated it, all those junkies and pigs. I remember having to take long showers after each session, Kubok told me that I just had to endure this until I proved I was ready for something better, plus I didn't want to lose my only source of cash. I dropped out of school and I didn't really have any skills that I could use elsewhere, so I gritted my teeth and endured, for six months.

Kubok finally told me I was ready for 'private sessions', with customers of a 'higher class'. I didn't know what he meant at the time, I didn't care as long as I was done with the junkies. I was told that I'd be moving to a different location, I really liked living in that beach house, apart from the fact that I wasn't allowed to leave. If I wanted to buy something, one of Kubok's goons would take my money and get it for me. I should've taken that as a hint because they also told I wasn't allowed a phone, but I got a pager that would tell me when I was needed for a session. I did ask once, but Kubok just waved it off or ignored me. There was also an occasion when one of his goons told me to stop asking questions, so I did. 

There were so many red flags, that seem obvious now. Before getting in a car to get to the location, I was told to put on a blindfold. They told me it was standard. I didn't like it, it just felt weird to me, but I did what I was told and put it on. I remember the trip being really long, I felt so uncomfortable with that blindfold on. I felt so relieved when the car stopped, I thought I could finally take it off, but they ordered me to keep it on, they were no longer being nice to me and I didn't understand why. I remember walking down a flight of stairs, only when I was at the bottom of it, did they take it off. 

There were all these other women in this big basement, a lot of them were about my age, some of them were younger, others were a little older. They all looked so depressed and scared. I was confused until I got pushed forward, that's when Kubok came down and "congratulated" me on my "promotion", from then on I would be working private sessions with the "high class" customers, I was heavily recommended from the photos and videos they'd taken of me. I was horrified, this had to have been some kind of nightmare or a sick joke, but it was real... and it only got worse.

Eight months. I was a prostitute for eight months and in that time I got to know who the "higher class" was. We weren't ^@[{!|\|& street thugs or crime bosses, at least no all the time. I've personally had sex with politicians, men who have well paid corporate jobs, even police officers. I made friends with some of the other girls, I lost some friends too. Any girl that fought back or complained, disappeared. Any girl who tried to ask for help disappeared. Any girl who got sick disappeared. It wasn't instant though, you'd get warnings. Painful ones, either from Kubok's thugs or from customers.

As time went on I grew to hate myself, for getting myself into that situation and because of all the things I was subjected to. I was made to feel like I was less than human and that I couldn't escape, but then something started to change. I remember a friend of mine who overheard Kubok's thugs talking about moving out of the city. We'd been moved around before, but they wanted to leave the whole city behind. One night there was a commotion from upstairs. We heard gunfire and screaming, we thought that maybe the police had shown up, for the first time in a year, I felt hope, but I was also scared. What would happen after they found us? What if I spoke about what had happened to me in here? Could I even have a life on the outside?

The door to the basement opened slowly, I held my breath. We thought we'd see one of Kubok's thugs or a policeman. Instead, we saw this cloaked figure, like some kind of ghost or grim reaper looking down at us. I remember one of the girls actually fainting at the sight of it. He was holding some kind of sword, it was really bloody. The sight of it made me shriek! Was he going to kill us? No, in fact, after staring at us for what seemed like an eternity, he turned around and walked away. No one else came near the door, in fact, I couldn't hear anything anymore. The door was open, but did that mean we could leave? After all this time I'd given up hope that we'd ever get out of this. This could be some kind of trick. I wasn't going to fall for it again, but I took the chance, because the other girls wanted to take the chance and really, what more did I have to lose?

So we marched up the stairs, when we got out, Kubok's goons were lying dead on the floor, against the wall, the stairs leading upstairs. I'd grown to hate them so much and I thought the day I saw them slaughtered like the pigs they were, I'd be jumping for joy, but actually seeing it. The way they had been sliced to pieces, that some of them were actually still alive... it just seemed like more than even they deserved. I mean... they were just following orders, right? What if, like us, they were punished and killed for stepping out of line? I know at least two of them, that didn't treat us horribly, well not as horribly, but the massacre before me felt too extreme. 

I looked up the stairs and saw the cloaked figure again, he was standing at the top of the stairs, looking at me. Two of my friends had seen him too and tried to tell me, that we needed to leave and I would've, but then he pointed at me and gestured for me to follow him. Again, I thought it was some kind of trick, why would I follow some psycho, but he also opened the door for us and let us out... I followed him, slowly. He was standing by a doorway to a room and walked in. I followed and saw Kubok, he was alive, but he was naked and bleeding out, hanging from the ceiling by his testicles. I was horrified, I wanted to run out, but this man... this filthy, disgusting, hideous human being, that tricked me and who knows how many women and sold them to equally awful pieces of $#!+, was now at someone else's mercy, I was seeing red, I wanted to kill him. I deserved to, that was when the bloody blade was handed to me. I wanted to grab it, but I stopped myself. I looked at the cloaked figure, he didn't say a word or move. Just held out that giant bloodstained murder weapon for me to use. I looked at Kubok, he looked so pathetic, in fact, he was always pathetic. He wasn't worth my time and I wasn't going to become a murderer, because of him, so I shook my head. He lowered his blade, he told me I could stay and watch or leave. 

I walked out of that room and the process was repeated with the other women, there were twenty of us. No one killed him. We walked out of the house and several cars had arrived. That was I first met Mr. Ivanov, he told us we had to hurry. Of course, we were hesitant. Kubok claimed he was trying to help us, before making us sex slaves, why would some old man and his friends be different. The sound of Kubok screaming came from an open window. I wish I could say that it haunts me to this day, but it doesn't. I felt no sympathy for him at all. We asked where the police were, but they didn't bring any with them and if you're reading this, you are one of the first to hear of it. There were some girls who wanted to speak with only the police, but they weren't coming. Kubok had a lot of them in his pocket so they wouldn't bother him.

I was still hesitant to go with these people, but I felt I had no choice and they seemed sincere. The cloaked figure came out of the house, ignoring all of us and pulled several jerry cans of oil, before re-entering the house, but he only took one of them inside with him. After a moment of thought, I grabbed one and followed him inside, about five others came with me. We came out and got in the cars, I checked the rear-view mirrors and I watched that building burn to the ground. There's a feeling that came over at the sight of that awful place being burnt to ashes, that I still can't describe, I don't know if I will ever be able to, I don't think I'll ever experience it again. 

When we got to the South East Block, the residents were waiting for us. They were so kind and supportive. remember not being able to sleep, how could I after what I'd seen in that house, so I went out into the cool night and I saw the cloaked figure, the one I'd go on to know as Vatour, sitting on the roof of one of the houses. I wanted to thank him for saving me, for saving us, but he wouldn't have it. 

"I simply... destroyed your cage..." He said, rather harshly if you ask me, "To leave... was your choice..."

Then he got up and leaped away. I just stared after him and for some reason, I just started laughing. I laughed myself to sleep, how many people can say that? I woke up the next morning feeling happy, feeling free, but what to do. That's when I saw Mr. Ivanov stitching clothes in his shop. I asked him if he could show me and he did. He said I could keep coming back and I always do. I love living here because no one judges you, no one looks down on you. I love making clothes and one day... I want to branch out on my own, if you ask me, Mr. Ivanov could put a lot of "qualified educator's" to shame. He's such a great teacher, but he's a surprisingly tough and demanding one. 

I still look back to those days and I hate myself for it, but if I hadn't endured the horrors of that whore house, I wouldn't be part of this family. I wouldn't be doing something I truly enjoy. I realize that I might get myself and a lot of people in trouble for speaking out like this. That's fine with me. I've spoken with everyone I know and I always get the same response. I've thought it over heavily and I always draw the same conclusion. It's my choice.

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