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Judging from other stories I have read on this website, especially those in the “institutional sex slavery” genre such as “Ladies at Sea” and “Payne Academy” to name but two, my submission is admittedly rather tame.There are a few “hardcore” passages, hopefully deively written of course, but my novella is far from “extreme,” as this website defines the term.Until recently, even the existence of a large, well-organized and extremely well-financed business based upon the sexual exploitation of women has remained a closely guarded secret known only to a very select group of the world’s most wealthy and powerful men.In the following exclusive report, IN/SIGHT will examine one such highly profitable enterprise, known simply as “Island Royale.” Pursuing this story proved to be both frustratingly difficult and exceedingly time-consuming.As an aside, I had also sought to address some of the more obvious logistical difficulties involved in establishing and maintaining a secret organization premised upon the sexual exploitation of women in this modern age of international travel, the Internet, global positioning satellites and instant telecommunications – problems, frankly, that never seem to be adequately addressed in these website stories but yet must be satisfactorily resolved unless the reader is to be expected to wholly abandon all physical and political realities. Foreword by the Editors ____________________________________________ Every few years a newspaper or magazine article will be published, or perhaps a television documentary will be aired, seeking to expose the sordid operations of the so-called “white slavery” business: The illegal trafficking of women sold into a life of exploitation and involuntary prostitution.In short, I had wanted to write a plausible erotic story with – dare I say it? Almost always these reports have focused upon the cruelty of the slave trade and upon the appalling and often brutal conditions under which these unfortunate women must live and work while imprisoned within the squalid quarters of Cambodian, Indian or Turkish bordellos.

I’ve already started sketching out the outline for another story – not a sequel, though – but frankly I would prefer to receive some more reader feedback before deciding whether it would be worth investing much more time or effort into the new project.

Yusuf told him very little, but several days later an unidentified Westerner contacted our Correspondent at his hotel and directed him to return to New Orleans, in the United States, where he was advised a car would be waiting for him.

Not knowing what to expect, but having been assured that “all questions [would] be answered” upon his arrival, our Correspondent did as he had been instructed, and indeed was met at the airport by an unassuming black sedan and its enigmatic male passenger.

He soon found himself aboard a private jet aircraft, and while flying high above the Gulf of Mexico received an extraordinary invitation to document in detail what is undoubtedly the most well-organized and lucrative bordello in the world. Chapter One ____________________________________________ You will not find the place marked on any published map, and no one you know can provide you directions to it.

No commercial airlines schedule flights there, and even global satellite images of the area reveal nothing but seemingly endless blue waters.

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