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Preview from chapter one
EDUCATING NATALIE
by
Frank McCall
© Copyright Frank McCall, 2026
Prologue
Readers of a curious disposition may find it of interest to know something of the source of the text they now hold in their hands. Let me simply say that the information was bequeathed to me by a friend, a man who devoted his adult life to educating the young, spending much of his career in the European school which I have here named Von Hoffman’s.
Toward the end of his life, aware of the illness which was soon to claim him, my friend requested that I take possession of a large quantity of his private papers. Naturally I acceded to this, little suspecting what they might contain.
It was only after his funeral that I opened the first of the many boxes. Initially, I took the contents to be nothing more than records, souvenirs and keepsakes of his teaching career. But as I began to study the papers, I was shocked to discover my old friend’s secret; that for many years he had been one of the leading lights of a secret society of white slave traders, complicit in the abduction and sale of hundreds of western girls.
Box after box detailed the selection, capture and training of young women, and their sale as sex slaves. At first, I tried to tell myself that it was an elaborate fantasy – but the cumulative effect of the diaries, photographs and videotapes left me unable to deny the truth.
This discovery plunged me into a dilemma. Clearly my friend had entrusted this material to me in order to avoid its discovery by the authorities after his demise. Yet if I honoured his wishes, would I become complicit in his past crimes – and perhaps the future crimes of his associates?
Delving deeper into the files, I recognised some names and faces from newspapers of years past. How many mysterious disappearances and presumed deaths could be explained by these records, I wondered. Dozens? Hundreds?
You can well imagine that the question of what to do with the records caused me a number of sleepless nights. Yet in the end, I decided to honour my friend’s memory. I saw nothing to be gained from posthumously destroying the reputation of a well-liked and respected member of the community. It certainly would not help any of the girls; their fate was long since sealed. And I must confess that as I read through his files, I became increasingly fascinated by this secret world of pleasure and pain.