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The men run through the auction house policies. It’s all very typical stuff. Basically, if you buy a girl, there’s a no-returns policy. You have to keep her or get rid of her: your choice. The bidding starts high because the location of the auction is quite discreet. There are no cops here, no authorities.
There are no witnesses.
I’m not going to be buying anyone tonight.
I’m just here to watch.
The auction begins. A young woman who is naked and gagged comes out on stage. Her arms are bound behind her, forcing her breasts to jut out ahead of her. They’re large, perky, firm. Her bright red hair contrasts with her dark brown skin. She’s beautiful, gorgeous, and the bidding quickly skyrockets.
She’s sold within minutes, followed by another girl, and then another. A young man is sold, followed by more females. Soon, the slaves begin to blur together as I start to feel numb. Most of the girls are crying through their gags. I wish they’d been blindfolded so they didn’t have to see who was buying them, so they didn’t have to face their captors.
I wish they’d been shown some sort of mercy.
Almost all of the women are dirty and covered in scratches. A couple of them actually have bite marks. What the hell have they been through to make it here today? What on Reslenoau has happened to them? Do they even know? Do they even know what their fate is? How could they? How could anyone?
My guess is that they’re all in shock, that they’re all completely numb to what’s happening.
My guess is that the girls who make it through the night are going to wake up in hell tomorrow morning.
Suddenly, the men around me begin murmuring loudly and whispering excitedly. A latecomer comes into the auction house and sits in the other empty VIP chair. He seems excited about the auction as he rubs his hands together. The tall blonde’s skin is so pale that it’s almost translucent, and I wonder what planet he’s from.
I don’t have time to wonder for long, though, because a girl is brought out and the man buys her.
And the next one.
And the next one.
Soon he’s bought five girls in a row and the other men around me are suddenly grumbling and complaining about their sour luck. The man beside me seems to have no financial limit and I realize that he’ll probably buy up the human girl, too.
If there’s even a human.
Part of me begins to think it was just a ruse to get more people here, but then they bring her out.
“Now,” the announcer says. “We have something very exciting for you: an Earthling! A real, genuine human. Isn’t she lovely?” He motions to her and I’m forced to agree. She is lovely, and soft, and curvy. Her dark brown hair hangs limp and despite the fact that she obviously hasn’t bathed or eaten much the last few days, she’s beautiful.
Graceful.
And then I see the blood.
Unlike the other girls, this woman’s hands are tied in front of her. Each of the other women had their hands bound behind them.
“Unfortunately, this one is feisty,” the announcer tells the crowd. A man cheers. Another growls. One person murmurs that he’d like to break her in.
I fist my hands at his words.
Women aren’t fucking meat. They aren’t property. They aren’t objects to be sold at a damn auction.
“She wasn’t quite keen on being sold today and tried to escape,” the man continues. “So she’s a little bit damaged now, but I think she got the message.”
Damaged.
That’s what he called her.
Damaged.
Her hands are open in front of her and the woman’s eyes are filled with pain. She shouldn’t have tried to escape from these men. They were obviously expecting it, ready for it. Still, she’s got fucking balls for trying. She’s got guts.
And now she’s got deep cuts on each of her palms.
