<Reference ID="46867" Date="5 Jan 1984">

 

                        <Title> Slave Girl Convict  [1] </Title>

 

                        <Author> Dolcetta (dolcetta AT grim_williams.co.uk ) </Author>

 

                        <Author> Grim Williams (gw AT grim_williams.co.uk) </Author>

 

                        <Photograph> The Adante Sex Farm </Photograph>

                        <Photographer> Peter Tye </Photographer>

                        <Image>  

 

 

 

 

                        </Image>    

 

</Reference>

 

 

<Reference ID="952853" Date="8 Aug 1984">  

                        <Publication> The National Independent </Publication>

                        <Page> Five </Page>

                        <ByLine> Jane Milne </ByLine>

                        <Name> Sex Breaks at Adante  </Name>

 

 

Sex Breaks at Adante

Adam Tomlin's Adante Sex Farm has been inundated with enquiries from young women only too eager to enjoy the rigours of a slave regime. This follows recent revelations in the press by guru Victoria Wilson.

Cash strapped Adante, which trains many of the country's most notorious criminals, is now boosting its coffers by offering short breaks of anywhere  between a week and six months to anyone with a few dollars to spare.

Spokesman Ian Hood said: "Most women fantasize about being a sex slave from time to time. It's a natural part of their makeup. Adante now provides a safe, fulfilling way to live the dream."

Contact with Adante is currently through CCTV's Public Justice brand:

adante@publicjustice.co.uk

Applicants should send a brief resume and a recent picture of themselves, preferably undressed.

 

 

                        </Text>    

 

</Reference>

 

 

 

<Fragment ID="46867" Date="1 Jan 1984">

 

                        <Name> Adam Tomlins </Name>

 

                        <Location> None </Location>

 

                        <Collator> Lisa O'Connor </Collator>

 

                        <Text>

 

 

 

His name is Adam Tomlins. He is five feet ten inches in height and weighs about 175 pounds. His eyes are light grey. So is his hair.

 

He is an ordinary man.  

 

Or so he seems. 

 

You see, Adam is the executive producer of Public Justice, the major television show.

 

Legend has it that he once declared himself so powerful that he could have any lady executed upon his show, and dared the newspapers to name the person they thought beyond him: none of them did.

 

His colleagues say this is apocryphal. Adam Tomlins, they say, is not a man to brag about his authority or his achievements. He is one of those unsung heroes you sometimes see slinking along the dusty side walks or hidden behind the pages of a paper and whose identity you never suspect. But yes, if he wanted... if he choose, then probably... he could... yes... to be sure... any woman...

 

But why should he? He isn't a woman hater despite what his opponents sometimes say. He has no wife certainly, or even a girl to call his own. But that's simply the price of his job.

 

For what sane woman would marry the public executioner? And he's not so desperate to marry the barmy.

 

Even sleeping with him is not without risk. Did you know that his effigy is burned each Sunday in the shanty towns and on the Outlands? Distraught family members wage vengeful crusades vowing to destroy him. Ideologists and terrorists alike mark him as their target.

 

How could a woman endure that?

 

Do you understand? Do you begin to see? He can trust no one: neither friend nor foe. He has learnt from bitter experience to allow no one, particularly women, into his confidence.

 

And so he lives a solitary life relying upon himself, seeking solace in the semi darkness of his plush penthouse in front of banks of monitors, sometimes for hours at a time. There he sits, making use of unsuspecting female prisoners in the cell blocks below, or else he'll summon some junior employee into his parlour, some wench be can silence at will.

 

"Entertain me," he'll say.

 

"How?" she'll answer.

 

He'll offer her a matchbox, inside a single red match. "I'd like to see you undress using that," he says. "No hands, nothing else, just a single lit match..."

 

She knows she can't refuse him. Her family are in peril, her life in the balance. She quakes with fear, pondering the inconceivable.

 

"Please," she begs, falling to the floor, clutching his legs, kissing his shoes. "I'll do whatever you say!"

 

Adam smiles and then points casually to the match. "That's good. That's fine. I like that. You've heard me. So do it!"

 

She doesn't move. She has wet herself. "What about Tonie? You'll let her go? Please. Promise me that!" She has a daughter, barely weaned, conceived out of wedlock. That contravenes the law.

 

Adam says nothing. He simply watches and waits. The minutes pass. The girl begins to sob, softly at first, but gradually becoming more intense and passionate. Adam's eyes flit across her crouched body. Her fingers are trembling. She forces herself up, to stand, but she has barely the strength. She takes the match from the box, strikes it, and shielding the pale fragile flame, touches it to the hem of her skirt.

 

"Would you like some music?" Adam asks, sitting forward in his chair. "A fire dance is always best when set to music, don't you agree?

 

The flame shoots up her leg. She screams, jerking sideways. "Promise me," she begs, skipping up and down on the spot. "Promise me you'll let Tonie go!"

 

But her pleas go unanswered. Adam has no intention of promising her anything. *

 

You see: his power is unfathomable. He abuses it for sure, but does so without conscience, hidden from the world.

 

He likes it that way, for he disdains the clamour, the media attention, the controversy. He loves his role as the invincible invisible dusty man.

 

*   [Ref 49778 CCTV v Sally Jones 14 November 1971]

 

 

                        </Text>

</Fragment>

 

 

<Reference ID="557689" Date="19 Mar 1984">

 

                        <Name> Shannon Courtney </Name>

 

                        <Race> Caucasian, Mixed Ancestors </Race>

 

                        <Command Language>

                             English, German, Russian,

                             Spanish, Italian

                         </Command Language>

 

                        <Identification> 13345121 </Identification>

 

                        <Born> January 17 1969 </Born> ERROR!

 

                        <Gynaecological Status>

                             Viginity: no.

                             Children: no.

                             Orgasms Per Hour: 5

                        </Gynaecological Status>

 

                        <Description>

                               Fertile, brunette, slender,

                               height: 175 cm,

                               weight 55 kg,

                               cup 36C

                        </Description>

 

                        <Photograph>

 

                      

 

                        </Photograph>

 

</Reference>

 

 

 

<Reference ID="12548" Date="14 Sept 1981">

 

                        <Publication> Christianity Today </Publication>

 

                        <Page> Two </Page>

 

                        <ByLine> Joseph Taylor </ByLine>

 

                        <Name> Rohypnol: Date Rape Alert </Name>

 

                        <Text>

 

Rohypnol Date Rape Alert

 

Rohypnol is a cheap and powerful drug -- a white, dime-sized pill that dissolves quickly in alcoholic and other beverages, such as soft drinks. Known as a "date rape drug", it's being used (mostly by men, according to recent criminal cases) to secretly sedate and sexually assault women. Although legally used by consensual individuals in licensed layovers, its easy availability has led to widespread abuse. Rope is dropped into drinks at bars and parties, leaving recipients open to suggestion, physically weak, and perhaps most troubling of all, without memory of events that transpire after the drug takes effect. This has made prosecution of "rope-rape" cases challenging, as women report waking up naked and alone in a strange room, for example, without any idea of how they got there and who was involved. And, it doesn't stop there. One of the newer club drugs, GHB (gamma hydroxybutyrate), is also being slipped into drinks and has become known as "Easy Lay." GHB, which produces psychedelic effects for the recreational user, has a sedating effect at higher doses.

 

Rohypnol creates a bitter taste when dissolved in alcohol. By now, lots of red warning lights should be flashing in your head. For starters, be aware of the colour, texture, and taste of your drinks; accepting pre-purchased, open drinks of any kind from strangers and casual acquaintances should be avoided. Rohypnol's misuse also makes it advisable not to leave drinks unattended, even in familiar surroundings.

 

 

                        </Text>

 

</Reference>