Human traffickers' sickening ritual for virgins revealed by brave woman who was abducted at 17 and escaped to tell her incredible story
'I need to sleep with a light on or make sure I see the sun as I wake up, otherwise I'm in frantic mode and reliving my nightmare,' the now 45-year-old tells me.
Lurata was 15 when war broke out in the former Yugoslavia. Two years later, when her Serbian village of Veliki Trnovac was singled out for ethnic cleansing, she somehow managed to survive a massacre and cross the border into Kosovo.
She was 17 when she reached the capital of Pristina and had no idea if her parents were dead or alive. One night, after seeking refuge in the quiet corner of a bar, a pair of UN police officers found her and took her to a shelter, where she stayed for weeks.
Lurata thought her nightmare was over then - but one day while stepping out to buy a magazine, a black van skidded out of nowhere and stopped directly in front of her.
What happened next was like something out of the movie Taken - the thriller about a teenage girl kidnapped for sexual slavery by a gang of human traffickers.
She was suddenly grabbed by two men who shoved a black sack over her head. It all happened so quickly, she barely had time to scream.
Hurled with a thud into the back of a van, she remembers the screeching tyres as her captors sped off while her mind raced at a hundred miles per hour.
Lurata Lyon (pictured at 17) was kidnapped in Kosovo in the 1990s
'It was all so fast, I didn't have time to process it. What followed was a complete nightmare,' adds Lurata, who now lives in Spain.
Upon their arrival at their destination, she was dragged, shaking with fear, into a building and forced to kneel in front of a 40-year-old man who was introduced as 'the Boss'.
When the sack was removed from her head, she realised she was surrounded by men. Immediately, she assumed the worst was about to happen.
'Please don't,' she begged them. 'I'm a virgin.'
The Boss told his men to back off, making a skin-crawling excuse about how someone so 'pure' like Lurata should 'not be touched'.
It wasn't much of a reprieve. Instead of being violated herself, she was forced for weeks to watch unconscious women endure sexual abuse.
In between these vile 'shows', she was made to live with the Boss and his lover in their apartment.
'It was so disgusting,' she adds.
Lurata is now a motivational speaker after surviving the horrific ordeal as a teenager
'I saw unconscious women being abused by men. That will haunt me for the rest of my life because I couldn't do anything to save them or myself.'
Revealing she was a virgin may have saved her from being 'broken in' by the sex-trafficking gang during her first day of captivity - but they vowed something far worse would soon happen to her.
'We'll sell you to the highest bidder, then they'll return you to us when they're done with you and you'll be used for prostitution,' one of the men told her, his eyes full of anger and hate.
'Once you no longer have any value to us, we'll take your organs to be sold on the black market.'
By this point, Lurata didn't need it spelled out to her. She knew what was happening.
She had heard about girls vanishing, only to be sold to rich men as sex slaves, then discarded. Some would be found working the streets years later; others were never seen again.
After four weeks in captivity, Lurata was told they had found a buyer and she was driven to the Albanian border where, she was told, the deal to sell her would be completed.
In a remarkable stroke of good fortune, however, the border was closed because of the war. Bundled in the back, she overheard officials denying her captors access.
The car turned around and started to drive back. After a month of hell, she could have wept tears of joy, had she not been terrified of what might happen next.
'I'll never forget that because it changed the course of my life. It's the reason I'm alive today,' Lurata says of the aborted border run.
Back in Pristina, the Boss was furious about the deal-gone-wrong. In a fit of rage, he ordered one of his henchmen to kill her.
The man assigned the task was young - barely older than her - and looked like a 'normal guy'. Sensing he was less cruel than the others, she asked him to give her a moment to pray before she died.
He agreed, saying he would give her a few minutes while he went to the bathroom.
She prayed hard, telling her parents she was about to die but was at peace. Then her last, lonely whimpers were interrupted by a 'cling' sound.
The man had left his gun and the front door key on the table before going to the bathroom. Tiptoeing silently, she grabbed both and bolted for the door.
As she turned the key, she could hear the man coming back. When he started yelling, she knew she'd been caught - but by then she was out the door, screaming bloody murder as she ran straight for the nearest street.
Just like the incident at the border, Lurata was blessed with another stroke of good luck that changed the course of her life. In the blur of the daylight, with the roar of the gangster behind her, she saw a police car parked in the distance.
An officer had climbed out of the vehicle and was coming towards her.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang behind her. She had escaped captivity but was now in the middle of a firefight between her captor and a lone policeman.
'I was caught in the middle and crawling on the ground trying to reach the police officer. He pulled me behind the car and called all units on his walkie-talkie,' she says.
For several minutes that felt like hours, the two men exchanged gunfire as bullets whizzed past Lurata's ducked head. Then came the sirens - backup had arrived. Soon the area was surrounded, and she was finally safe.
Hours later, she finally felt steady enough to give a witness statement at the police station. In the meantime, officers had swarmed the apartment and found a mountain of evidence of human trafficking and sex slavery.
Traumatised but grateful to be alive, she began the journey back to Serbia, desperately hoping to find her parents.
Miraculously, they were safe and hiding in the basement of their family home.
But their reunion was short-lived - Lurata's nightmare wasn't over yet.
Within hours, Serbian soldiers had descended on her village - and they weren't there to provide assistance. Instead, they were thugs in uniform.
In desperate need to bolster their ranks, the army had resorted to conscripting men from prisons - rapists, killers, you name it - and they were treating the war like a sadistic playground. Mistaken for a traitor, Lurata was grabbed from her home and kept in solitary confinement for six months.
Her experiences there were so horrific, her mind has blanked most of them out.
'I was raped every day and psychologically abused. The men played games; they would drag me out of the room, spraying me with scalding or freezing water. They would beat me one minute, then brush my hair another. It was torment,' she says.
'I just kept thinking I wanted to return to my parents - that gave me the strength and will to survive.'
After she was taken away, Lurata's father never stopped looking for her. Eventually, with the help of police, he managed to rescue her from the rogue army.
Lurata is pictured as a baby with her parents. After escaping her captors, she had a vanishingly brief reunion with her family before she was captured by the Serbian army - whose ranks were filled with violent criminals - under suspicion of being a traitor
'My father was shocked when he saw the state I was in - skin and bones. He just said everything was going to be okay.'
Finally safe, the magnitude of what she had survived began to hit the 17-year-old, who would later be granted asylum in the UK.
'I was really suicidal initially. The pain, the torment, the PTSD was so extreme that it was really hard for me to even trust doctors,' she tells me.
'It's tough because it never goes away for me. I had to learn how to trust humanity again. The British government gave me a second chance at life and I realised everyone was trying their best to help me regain my strength.
'I met people who I'm still friends with today, including my best friend who's bizarrely from Kosovo. He was the first person I trusted in the UK and the first person I told my story to.'
Little by little, Lurata started to trust others again, but she still remains suspicious of anyone she meets.
'Even today, when I travel, I don't trust anyone. I suffer tremendously with anxiety and it can be triggered when I'm tired, if I can't reach my loved ones, or if I read about current wars in the news.'
Today, Lurata is a single mother who has worked hard to educate her two children about the dangers of the world, and how to treat women properly.
She is also a motivational speaker and hosts retreats in Spain for people of all ages that focus on both physical and mental challenges.
Lurata's father died in April this year, leaving her heartbroken, but her mother is still alive and they have a beautiful relationship.
'He was my true hero. Before he died, he said: "Never stop your mission to make this world a better place for generations to come." I will continue to do this for the rest of my life.'
In 2023, Lurata released a book to share her story titled Unbroken: Surviving Human Trafficking, with proceeds going to charity to stop human trafficking
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Daily Mail
2 hours ago
- Daily Mail
EXCLUSIVE I was kidnapped, raped and tortured by ruthless human traffickers - only to be plunged into an even worse nightmare when I finally escaped their clutches
At just 17 years old, Lurata Lyon was snatched off the streets in a war-torn Serbia by a brutal human trafficking gang. One moment, she was a bright young teen with dreams of becoming a doctor like her father and the next she had vanished into the shadows of war - silenced, and sold by traffickers who saw her not as a person, but a commodity. What followed was a descent into a nightmare most would not survive: months in solitary confinement being raped, beaten and branded by her captors. Now a leading campaigner against human trafficking and modern slavery, her story stands as a powerful testament to endurance, faith, and the strength it takes to rebuild. Born an only child to a loving couple in a small village in Serbia called Veliki Trnovac, Lurata remembers a home not of privilege, but of happiness: 'I didn't grow up with lots, but we were really rich in love.' Her father, a doctor who would often worked for free for the local community and her mother, warm and watchful, kept their small household united: 'We were the Three Musketeers,' she lightly laughed, 'that was our kind of wealth.' A keen student, Lurata grew up dreaming of becoming a doctor, inspired by her father: 'He was never about the money,' she says with a smile, 'he just wanted to help people. That was his calling. And I thought, when I grow up, I want to be like him.' But fate had other plans. In the early 1990s, Yugoslavia began to fracture violently along ethnic lines, and within a decade would become six separate states, known today as Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Montenegro, Serbia, and North Macedonia. But these years were notoriously marked by depraved war crimes of genocide, ethnic cleansing, and mass wartime rape. 'We knew something was coming,' she recalls, 'there were signs. You hope war never comes to your doorstep. But it can, in a split second.' By the time Lurata was 17, those cracks had split wide open. Schools closed, police curfews were enforced, and the quiet life she'd always known slipped away. Her father had heard that their village was earmarked to be massacred as part of an ethnic cleanse of the region, as such begged her to flee through the mountains, to the Red Cross who he believed could protect her. Thankfully for their village, Lurata's wealthy uncle bribed the men who came to kill them, handing over everything he owned in order to spare their lives. However, still fearful of what was coming, Lurata argreed to leave the village and alone, at 17, she trekked through the mountains to Kosovo in search of the Red Cross. Exhausted, dehydrated and having no idea where to go next, she sat down outside of a pub, unbeknownst to her that she was out past curfew and was risking being shot for such an offence. Moments later she was approached by two American police officers, part of the international peacekeeping force, and a translator. Their names were Brian and Peter. 'They came out with a translator and started questioning me - what I was doing on the streets, where I was from. I told them the truth: I was from Serbia.' A dangerous admission in the middle of Kosovo during wartime. Little did she know then this was the start of a lifelong friendship: 'They treated me like their own. They gave me safety when I had nothing.' Brian and Peter offered her shelter, fed her, gave her blankets and a sofa to sleep. She stayed with the two men for what she recalls as a few months, helping out around the house and waiting for them to secure her safe passage to the Red Cross. But safety was fleeting. One day, bored, she thought she could risk going outside along to buy a newspaper. Although the stand was just over the road, within seconds of stepping outside the house, a van pulled up alongside her. She had a bag put over her head and was thrown into the back. Now reminiscing she declares: 'They were waiting for me. We later pieced it together - the translator who had helped me speak to Brian and Peter had told people there was a Serbian girl living with two Americans. That should have been confidential information.' She continued: 'After a short drive, we arrived at some place, but I couldn't see anything clearly at first. 'They dragged me inside and threw me into a room. There was a man sitting at a table. He looked at me and said, 'She's the one.' 'I remember thinking, What do you mean, the one? I wasn't anyone special. I tried to plead with them, tell them they've made a mistake and to let me go. 'But they started accusing me of being a spy. I was 17 years old. A spy? I couldn't understand what was happening. 'Then the boss said something that changed everything: 'Flip her over and rape her. I want to watch.'' Gripped by the terror of what might happen next Lurata began to scream that she was a virgin, not knowing that this would make her even more precious 'cargo' to these depraved men. After finding out this knowledge, she was spared the torment then as now they would be able to fetch a higher price to 'sell her to the highest bidder'. 'During that time, I was being groomed - trained in how to behave, how to 'please.' They made me watch horrible things. The boss and his partners abusing other girls. They forced me to watch, to learn. 'There was one I remember vividly. She was unconscious and being abused. I'll never forget it. That broke me. What they did to her - I will carry it with me forever.' She was eventually sold and it meant she had to be moved, however when the traffickers tried to cross into Albania, Italian troops turned them away. As such the boss decided she was 'more trouble than she is worth', saying 'rape her do whatever you want to her and then get rid of her.' Panic stricken she began to beg the man she had been left with if she could pray. 'I hadn't prayed in a long time, and I knew I'd made a lot of mistakes in my life. So the prayer came from desperation. I was preparing to die. 'I said, 'Let's do this in a dignified way. You're Muslim, I'm Muslim too - I was raised that way. Please, can we just do this kindly? I'm so scared. I know I'm about to die, but don't send me off like this.' To her surprise, the man paused. Instead of carrying out the order, he allowed her to pray and went into the bathroom. But as she recited her final prayers, filled with sorrow and guilt, Lurata experienced what she describes as an inner voice that saved her life. 'I was weeping inside. I was saying, 'I'm so sorry, Mum and Dad. I've let you down. You'll never know where I am.' And then I heard a voice in my mind. It said: 'Turn around.' She hesitated. In her faith, prayer is sacred and not to be interrupted. But driven by something unknown she turned. 'On the table were the gun and a ring of keys. I looked at both and didn't know what to do. But then I felt this surge of courage. I got up, looked again, grabbed the keys and ran.' The escape was far from over. Lurata ran to the apartment door, only to face two locked barriers: a wooden door and a second layer of metal security bars. 'I opened the wooden door, but the metal one wouldn't open. I was fumbling, panicking, trying every key. I was frantic. And then—somehow—I managed to unlock it.' She burst out of the apartment in a frenzy, but her captor was not far behind. Just as she reached the street-level door, she was attacked. 'I heard him behind me. His footsteps getting closer - faster - and then bang - he punched me right in the face. So hard that I flew into the street.' Lurata hit the pavement dazed, struggling to understand what was happening. Then she saw it - a parked Jeep. It appeared empty, until her desperate screams summoned a figure from the shadows. 'I started screaming. And, by some miracle, it turned out to be a UN police officer who had just finished his shift.' The officer ran to help her, but her captor returned with the gun and opened fire. Thankfully the officer had time to radio in for back-up and within moments, UN vehicles surrounded the scene. With nowhere else to go, Lurata told them she had previously stayed with two American police officers, Peter and Brian. Police managed to contact Peter, who came immediately. But unable to stay with the pair she made the decision to return to her parents home in Serbia, so she retraced the same mountain route she had taken months earlier. However her reunion with her family was far from joyful. What she expected to be a heartwarming return quickly turned into confusion and despair. 'My mother wasn't happy to see me - she cried and screamed, 'You shouldn't have come back!' She had been spotted coming back into Serbia and and followed home. Soon after, soldiers arrived to arrest her. At first, Lurata didn't feel threatened. She assumed they were part of her own national army - protectors, not predators. But these weren't trained professionals, instead they were crazed vigilantes who preferred to take matters into their own hands. 'You could tell who was real and who wasn't by the shoes,' she said. 'The ones with trainers came for me. I told my parents, 'Don't worry, I'll explain what happened. They'll release me.' I was so naïve.' As she was led away, her mother screamed in the garden, restrained only by her father. She was taken to an abandoned building high in the mountains, which had been converted in to a secret interrogation site. 'At first, it was just normal questioning,' she recalled. 'But as it went on, it got more and more intense. They wouldn't believe me. I kept telling them the story, but they became so frustrated that they started beating me. 'I lost teeth, my jaw was dislocated, and my ear was ripped from the power of the blows.' Then in a final attempt to get her to 'confess' to crimes she had not committed they scarred her for life. 'They branded me. That's when I blacked out. The pain was so excruciating, I don't remember much after that. I just woke up in a small, dark room.' When she woke, her eyes were swollen shut. She was still bleeding and so confused and disoriented, she believed she had been buried alive. 'The room was so dark, I started screaming and scratching the walls, banging on the door. I thought I was underground. I panicked for hours. But eventually, I gave in. I was exhausted - from the beatings, the infections. I just didn't have anything left. 'There was no comfort. Just a blanket on the floor. The smell was awful. I tried everything to stay warm. That little space became my whole world.' For the next six months Lurata was held in that dungeon without proper food, daylight or warmth. 'I was being sexually abused daily - multiple times a day. They gave me some kind of soup, but I stopped eating. I wanted to die. I didn't want to survive anymore. 'I starved myself. I tried everything I could to die. But nothing worked. I'd given in to the darkness.' Eventually, Lurata dissociated from her own body and experience, fearing that she would never get out of that hell. 'During one of the abuses, I was just a body that didn't feel anything anymore. I think I got used to the pain. And I started thinking about them -those people doing this to me. What made them so evil? What happened to them as kids? Were they abused too? 'I actually felt sorry for them.' And then, a miracle: her father managed to track her down and bribed the men to allow her to come home, just for 24 hours, to see her, to clean her up, and, ultimately, to plan her escape. 'He wasn't worried about the repercussions. He'd already planned for both him and my mum to be executed if it meant saving me. They had accepted the risk.' On the night of her rescue, there was no time for full goodbyes. Just the haunting knowledge that she would never see them again. 'He told me to say goodbye to my mum. That was when I knew. They had made peace with it. Any parent who loves their child would do the same, I think.' Later that night, she was hidden in a truck and sent away. Her parents stayed behind to face the consequences. A few weeks later she would arrive in the UK, just 18 years old, with the legal status of a political asylum seeker. Years after escaping war and torture Lurata finally received a phone call she had been waiting for. It was her mother. Both her parents had survived the war, but had endured their own horrors for their 'crimes'. Lurata eventually became a British citizen in 2005, and then in 2007, her parents were finally able to visit her in the UK for the first time. Now in her 40s, Lurata has built a life far beyond mere survival. She is a wife, a mother, and a trauma recovery expert who helps others through their own healing journeys. Even recently launching a wellness retreats in Spain to guide others through physical, mental, and spiritual recovery. Despite all her hardships her final message was one of gratitude: 'I'm very grateful to the British government for what they did for me. I thank every taxpayer in every speech I do. 'The money they contributed gave me access to doctors, psychiatrists, medication, operations - everything I needed. I'm forever grateful.'
Daily Mirror
2 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
Special order given to man, 45, who married girl, 6, in sick ceremony
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The Sun
3 hours ago
- The Sun
I woke up with Ted Bundy looming over me with log… he shattered my jaw & left me to die but I survived in stroke of luck
KATHY Kleiner Rubin was in her second year at university when she was mercilessly attacked with a log by depraved serial killer, Ted Bundy. The Florida-born author is one of the few women to have survived an encounter with the sadist, who was later found guilty of rape, necrophilia, and murder. 11 11 Among his victims were 21-year-old Margaret Bowman and 20-year-old Lisa Levy, who were murdered just minutes before the 33-year-old launched his assault on Kathy. Bundy was executed in 1989, when he admitted to murdering at least 30 women in his four-year-long reign of horror. But his notoriety has lived on, with books and films often depicting the sadist as a charismatic killer who lured his victims with his good looks. Decades later, Kathy has revealed how she has found peace by giving a voice to his victims and exposing Bundy's "true" nature. Speaking exclusively to The Sun, she described him as a "loser and a sociopath" who craved the world's attention. NIGHT OF THE ATTACK When Kathy was attacked, she was a second-year student at Florida State University, living in Chi Omega sorority house with girls 'who felt like sisters'. She had spent the afternoon at a church friend's wedding but decided to head back early with her dormmate, Karen Chandler, to study for her calculus exam the following Monday. The pair's room was not dissimilar to any other dorm room: two single beds pushed against opposite walls, separated by a small trunk and a large bay window with curtains that remained open 'all the time'. When they turned the lights off at around 11:30pm, Kathy fell straight to sleep. In the early hours of the morning, she awoke to the 'swish' sound of the carpet. 'I remember squinting into the dark, not wearing my glasses, and seeing this black shadow standing above me, looking at me. 'I was just waking up a little bit and he had that log in his hand. "I can close my eyes and I can see my room. And I can see him standing over me. And this is something I'll never forget," she said. Wielding the same log he had used to kill her two much-adored sorority sisters, and which he had stolen from the house's fireplace, Bundy struck Kathy's jaw. The sheer force shattered the bone and splintered her chin - exposing her teeth and almost severing her tongue. "When he hit me, my first feeling was like hitting a bag of potatoes. You know, it didn't hurt," she added. But it wasn't long before adrenaline turned to agonising pain. 11 11 "It hurt so bad. The most intense pain I have ever felt," she recalled. Moments later, a rustle in the neighbouring bed turned Bundy's attention to Karen. Tripping over Kathy's trunk, he stumbled to his next victim, before mercilessly bludgeoning her too. In a stroke of immense fortune, the pair were saved when a couple returning home parked up beside the sorority house. I thought I was yelling and screaming for help but all I was doing was making gurgling sounds from all the blood in my mouth Kathy Kleiner Rubin The headlights flooded the room with light, startling Bundy, who ran away. Kathy said: 'I was moaning and groaning and I thought I was yelling and screaming for help but all I was doing was making gurgling sounds from all the blood in my mouth. 'He came back over to my side of the room so I tucked myself into the smallest ball. I thought if he didn't see me, he wouldn't kill me.' 'He looked at me. He raised his arm up over his head, but just as he was about to hit me again, a bright light shone through our window, 'He got real antsy and started moving around. Then he ran out of the room." I thought if he didn't see me, he wouldn't kill me Kathy Kleiner Rubin Whimpering, Kathy tried calling for help but managed no more than a few "gurgling sounds" through all of the blood. Karen was able to stumble to get help as Kathy passed out from the pain. She recalled: 'I woke up and a police officer was standing at the head of my bed looking at me. 'I touched my face and it was warm with blood. I was in excruciating pain – it felt like daggers and knives. But he just told me 'it's going to be OK.'' "I knew, having been so scared that this person was going to take care of me." PATH TO HAPPINESS Kathy never returned to university and spent the next nine weeks with her jaw wired shut at her parents' house in Miami. Therapy wasn't an option for the young girl who was raised by Cuban parents, where sweeping problems under the rug was the "done thing". Instead, her parents did all they could to help her physically recover and protect her from the trauma of what happened. "My mum wanted to shield me from the news and hearing about my sorority sisters so she would take the newspaper and cut all of the articles out that would mention Bundy," she said. Meanwhile, Kathy took "baby steps" to heal from the psychological wounds left from Bundy's attack - but also from the anger and sadness of leaving behind her freedom and friends at university. She said: "I walked outside and felt the sun on my face and looked up at the trees and saw each individual leaf, that's part of the branch, that's part of the tree. "And looking at the bugs on the ground and seeing how they interact. That's life. "And I wanted to be part of life. I wanted to be part of what was so natural." Kathy recognised exposure therapy would be crucial in her path to recovery so she got a job working at a lumber yard, where she would be surrounded by men everyday. 11 11 While she grew progressively less scared, dark thoughts of a figure standing behind her lingered. Leaning on her faith, she imagined herself walking away from the darkness - each day, taking one step closer to the "light" at the end of the road. She has since co-authored a book with writer Emilie Lebau-Luchessi, in which she revisited in painfully vivid detail the events of that night. Although challenging, Kathy said sharing her story with the world has helped her heal and connect with other survivors. "They just need to know that one day they were a victim and the next day they became a survivor. "That survivor has to live the rest of their life and they can talk about it and they can feel it but they shouldn't dwell on it. "They need to move on and and not let this put them in a box but just take baby steps to heal themselves," she said. 11 11
