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Lindiwe had arrived. In the town’s brief history, couple of had actually suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock.

But desperation had driven Lindiwe to extreme measures, as it had her fellow migrants who ‘d also endured the journey.

Lindiwe had not viewed the stops on her voyage as a tourist might, although there were few European tourists who would venture into sub-Saharan Africa nowadays. What she saw of the countless miles in between Southern Africa and Northern Europe wasn’t through the round windows of an aeroplane overlooking the clouds and spotting ahead of a trail of excessively expensive nonrenewable fuel source. She saw no airports and a lot of definitely no passport controllers. Had she satisfied even one in between Lesotho and London, she ‘d have been unceremoniously bundled away in the back of an immigration paddy wagon either to be disposed back in her country of origin or detained in one of the countless refugee camps that lined the coasts of North Africa. And from what Lindiwe had become aware of these camps, her more than likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited on a decision from the many federal government companies and personal charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the duty for feeding the countless desperate souls in their care.

When there were so many other more immediate requirements to attend to, no one would desire to be burdened with such duty.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with illegal immigrants with any more compassion than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her existence had actually been found by an authorities at any point on her voyage. And when she had actually been obliged to declare her presence, well…

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There had been numerous times when she ‘d had to use her body as currency to keep her and her buddies safe. This had actually been the case from the very start of her journey when she ‘d had to sacrifice her virginity just to protect an exit visa from the United States of South Africa. There were the weeks and, in the slums of Cairo, the months of working for very little pay and a lot of physical and spoken abuse in professions that were even more menial than her post-graduate degree and professional training had ever prepared her for.

Here in the Kingdom of England, there might be a chance to make great the qualifications that were surplus to requirements in Maseru. Lindiwe had high hopes for Ashton Lovelock. Despite the falling apart decay of the hastily-built home she was staying in, it was a fairly young town with energy-efficient housing, comprehensive parking spaces, and a profusion of windmills and photovoltaic panels.

The fact was that Ashton Lovelock was a veritable paradise compared to her original home in Africa. The years of African scarcity had not lowered overall population numbers by really much. The couple of readily available tasks paid very badly if they ever paid at all.

Ashton Lovelock, on the other hand, was a town of owner-occupation that had now become a neighbourhood of squats as the number of those who could afford to purchase property in the over-crowded Kingdom of England had diminished at the same rate as the supply of non-derelict real estate stock. This town had actually as soon as been house to a flourishing neighborhood of 2nd and third generation Asian immigrants, however the regrettable policies of the just recently deposed Government of National Unity had actually led to their overall evacuation. This inevitably left a vacuum that was now being filled by the latest wave of immigrants: of which Lindiwe was one. She was just one of lots of. There were people collected in Ashton Lovelock from all over the world, though almost all of them were pretending to have come through the Northern European Union. This was a required lie, made plausible in the aftermath of the National Server Centre Riots. Numerous originated from Africa, at least as lots of from the Middle East and Asia, and, inevitably, refugees from the racially intolerant Republic of North America. The one thing everybody had in common was a shared

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Aparo shared the same single mattress with Lindiwe in a room that had actually once been a loft extension. Apara and Lindiwe shared the mattress in the daylight hours.

” There are no jobs at KFC-McDonalds,” stated Aparo, describing the franchise where she worked. “You’re simply going to have to look for work somewhere else.”

Lindiwe’s heart sank. Because Mr and Mrs Martin would be there and there weren’t lots of locations open in the evening where she could hope to find work, she couldn’t sleep on the mattress at night. This indicated that her pursuit of employment would likewise suggest going without sleep.

Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the company of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for an employment opportunity. Not that there were lots of locations to go to in the town centre. The owner of KFC-McDonalds, herself a South African immigrant, was sympathetic but pointed out that there was a long waiting list of equally desperate prospects.

Lindiwe quickly realised that there were no jobs for her in Ashton Lovelock at all. The immigrant community had currently taken all the available low-paid chances. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English residents, much of whom freely ridiculed Lindiwe with unsubtle tips of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

The ever-widening radius of her task search ultimately encompassed a company estate on the perimeter of Swindon where Lindiwe, at last, acquired a position but as nothing more demanding than a nightshift cleaning-woman. This position required a pricey two-hour commute by bus followed by a half-hour walk it was still better than having to invest the whole night avoiding the couple sleeping on her daytime bed mattress.

Her main tasks mainly involved changing on and turning off the numerous cleansing makers and robots. However, it wasn’t long until Lindiwe found that cleansing wasn’t whatever she was anticipated to do, although it wasn’t written into her conditions of employment (which, in any case, were completely verbal and agreed with a handshake).

During the first week that Lindiwe worked at the George Monbiot eco-business park, she became mindful of the presence of rooms that were out of bounds to her and the other night-time operatives. This was odd because the only people expected to be working at the workplaces so late at night were security guards and technical operatives.

It soon became apparent what was taking place when Lindiwe bumped into any of the people who had actually been staying in a locked room. Lindiwe likewise saw the odor of sex that was remaining on their individual.

” I like all the personnel to chip in,” Lindiwe’s employer discussed as he handed her the meagre benefits for her very first week’s work. He was an exile who had actually returned home after the modification of federal government.

” Why do not individuals go to whorehouses and massage parlours?” asked Lindiwe, who comprehended that her ongoing employment was almost certainly conditional on her accepting this additional work.

” The change of federal government brought about lots of good chances,” Mr Singh said with a sigh, “otherwise I would not be here, obviously. But one step the new federal government also presented was to close the illicit sex establishments that were an informal refuge for the immigrant females who had actually remained on in the nation, in spite of the continuous pressure to leave. This operation is similar to numerous others you’ll discover all over this nation. It’s a way for business Park’s property owners to use empty rooms in workplaces that would otherwise be decommissioned and for the punters to get what they want.”

And what they wanted was something Lindiwe now had to offer about two times a week in one of the several out-of-bound offices. They were furnished with rather standard beds rather than computers, desks and chairs. The felt-covered partitions around each cubicle now served the function of concealing what was going on. There was a consistent stream of clients who came to enjoy the low-cost satisfaction that immigrant labour was now providing: their appetites whetted by the VR fantasies they could enjoy in the convenience of their own homes.

For Lindiwe, this offered no satisfaction at all until she squeezed into the office shower with the other nightshift cleaners to spray off the semen, urine and other bodily fluids that the customers thought was an essential part of love-making but throughout which experience the vaginal penetration was most likely the least horrible part.

In the town’s brief history, couple of had suffered as much as Lindiwe to reach Ashton Lovelock. And from what Lindiwe had heard about these camps, her most likely fate there would be a lonesome death while she waited for a decision from the lots of federal government firms and private charities that were fruitlessly arguing with one another over the duty for feeding the millions of desperate souls in their care.

Lindiwe didn’t expect Ashton Lovelock to deal with prohibited immigrants with any more kindness than Nairobi, Cairo, Harare, Sarajevo or Rotterdam would have done if her presence had been discovered by an official at any point on her trip. Bored and bleary-eyed, after a night spent in the area of the bus depot in the company of others with nothing else to do, Lindiwe resolutely roamed the streets of Ashton Lovelock in the hunt for a work opportunity. And this was much to the apparent distaste of native English citizens, many of whom honestly taunted Lindiwe with unsubtle suggestions of the unethical practices of the deposed Government of National Unity.

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Bedfordshire, England (EN)

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