The courthouse was elegantly decorated, with rich redwood tables and green draperies and the flag of the United States on the walls. Her courtroom, however, was drab. Benches, leading up to the dais, standing before the judge's seat on high. There was nothing standout about it. Gray walls and a gray ceiling. She remembered it very well though. The sound of the rain on the roof as a storm pelted the building. The unbreaking silence in the room. The pain and despair she felt. It was all like a fresh wound whenever she thought about it.
And for what? Petty theft? It seemed like everyone was being committed these days.
She remembered Aria's face as the gavel swung down and clacked against its base. How the color drained from it. The lonely tear that crept down her cheek, dripping to the carpet below. The way her eyes glazed over. That was the last memory she had of Aria.
The guards came in and handcuffed her, leaving her too stunned to speak. She stared up at the judge, mouth agape, as if to protest, but the words were caught in her throat. They led her to a holding room where they stripped her, dressed her in a white jumpsuit, shackled her, and threw a choke chain around her neck to pull her by.
They'd pushed her in the back of a van, then, in with another man who claimed he'd been there for illegal possession of some amounts of this drug or that. It was his third offense too. They didn't speak much, and she couldn't even remember his name if she tried, but the look on his face was haunting. Pale, ghostly, glossy eyes that stared at nothing and through everything all at once. He looked like a dead man walking. She wondered if she looked the same to him.
The van pulled away, leaving all she owned, all she knew behind. It would go to her next of kin, or, barring that, her family. So her family, then. She thought of them, now, as she rode in the back of the rickety police van to the Auction House. She thought about everything that had just happened. The theft, the loss, the grief. The shame. She felt a pang of pain within her core, and she nearly doubled over, but she just managed to quash it. There was no room for pain here. There was no room for anything. At some point during the ride, she went numb.
She remembered the housing facility, if you could call it that. More like the cell block. Each new slave was given a small cell with a bed, a toilet, a mirror, and a sink. They replaced her neck chain with a simple black metal collar, which had a leash ring on it. They led her to her 'quarters', and gave her a pamphlet with a series of rules on it for new and soon-to-be slaves. And here is where she stayed, for a week. Let out to get fresh air every day at noon and six PM, with three meals that consisted of some kind of protein, a vegetable, and a simple carbohydrate. With water, of course.
When she looked at herself in the mirror that evening - evening grooming was required for all slaves - she barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The dark bags under her dazzling, if empty, sapphire eyes. The way her short black hair frizzed and knotted up. The puffiness in her eyes and the frown on her lips. She wasn't one to frown. She was a happy person. This person was... someone else. Alien, to her. Foreign. Not her.
But then, how could she be?
She thought back to it all now, sitting in a small holding room with two other slaves on the bench with her, all three of them leashed to the wall. The red cushion beneath them provided some comfort, as it was incredibly soft, but otherwise, the room was bare and claustrophobic. Jim sat to her left, and Alice to her right. At least, that's what they called themselves. Who knew what their original names were? For herself, she knew herself as Kat. God knows what name she had before. She couldn't even remember at this point. Five years in the system will do that to a... person.
The fluorescent bulb overhead flickered, flashing ghostly light throughout the gray room. Really, the only color here came from the bench cushion. They all had nice bench cushions in the pre auction cell, all of the Auction Houses did. Kat theorized that it was because they wanted slaves asses to be pristine for presentation, instead of red and marked from a hard wood or steel bench. Just one more way to make a profit.
Jim, apparently, had been sold for beating his Master - luckily he wasn't imprisoned, and was simply sold. Alice, on the other hand, just wasn't what her Mistress was looking for. So, like an object, she was returned to the "store" without a care, thrown to the wayside yet again. And Kat... well, her Master had grown bored of her.
Good, she thought. He was a monster.
She thought about her next buyer. Her next Owner. Anxiety crept into her veins, spreading like needles in her body. She started to restlessly tap her foot on the floor, as she pondered who would purchase her next. Would they be male or female? Kind or cruel? Man or monster? There were only two choices in the world anymore, it seemed.
Footsteps echoed outside the door that led to the Auction stage. Naked, Kat huddled deep into herself instinctively, protecting her fragile, slim body. She wished they'd at least give them robes, or some tattered semblance of clothing. The cell was cold from the outside rain, and her skin prickled with gooseflesh. She shivered. The place was freezing. She hoped the actual Auction House itself was warm.
Jim didn't seem to mind. He sat, elbows on his knees, in some sort of lost state, staring at the floor with a blank expression. Alice, somehow, had fallen asleep, and was laying on the corner of the bench. Nobody spoke. They'd had a single conversation that lasted for all of five minutes before the familiar silence crept back in. She couldn't tell how long it had lasted.
Every so often she could hear sobbing outside. Another one being marched off to auction through the dole corridors of the back of the Auction House. It was a familiar sound, as familiar as the concrete walls of her cells. Kat listened, then sighed, huddling back up again. They would come for her cell next. She just knew it.
In moments, the door creaked open, and an officer dressed in a blue button up shirt and black khakis stepped in, and pointed to "Jim".
"Jim," he said.
Jim looked up at him without a sound and stood.
"Don't cause no trouble," said the officer, placing his hand on his revolver at his hip. "Would rather do this nice and easy. Okay?"
Jim said nothing, but showed him the palms of his hands in surrender. The guard led him out, and closed the door behind him, leaving Alice and Kat alone. Kat turned to Alice, who had woken up and was blinking the sleep from her eyes.
"Wake up," she whispered. "They're here for us."
Alice looked at her, then the door, and nodded with a yawn. "Looks like it," she said. "You nervous?"
Kat looked at her, then the door, and then finally the floor, before sighing. "Not anymore."
Shaking her head, Alice said, "Me either. Not anymore."
And that was that. The silence returned in full force, with nothing but the HVAC system's whirr and the sound of the rain on the roof to fill the void. Minutes passed. Maybe thirty or so, Kat guessed, before someone else showed up. This time it was a short woman, a little heavier, but clearly built. She slid the door open and looked directly at Kat with an expecting gaze.
"Kat, let's go."
"Yes Miss," she murmured. She stood, the concrete floors chilling the soles of her feet. She shuddered as she passed Alice, on the way out of the cell, led by a leash. Alice gave one last look to her, and something in her eyes seemed to say good luck, before Kat was led out of the cell and the door shut behind her.
She was led into a long hallway with red carpets and tapestries of red and gold. Ahead, she could see the door to the stage at the end of it. The carpet felt good beneath her feet, but the air was still cold, and she was still shivering, naked. The officer gave her leash a tug - she'd blanked and stared off into space for too long. But this jerked her back to reality, and they began to walk down the hallway. It seemed to take forever, far longer than it should've, and with every step Kat could feel her heart throb, like a dull ache that doesn't go away.
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Finally, she reached the stage door. The guard reached over and opened it, and from within the backstage, a warm heat radiated out. It felt like a warm blanket on her cold skin, pulling her into its embrace. It was cozy - or, it would've been, in some other world, in some other time.
Now it was just a carrot on a stick. Oh, the pleasantness was there, but they'd all be laughing at her as she chased it. So, rather than embracing the warmth, she shivered, shaking it off and heading through the threshold to her next Owner.
The backstage was full of equipment, and people, and officers. She could see out onto the stage. It was empty, meaning she'd be up... now.
"The next one," a low, deep voice said, "is a small, feisty girl. She looks cute, but don't be fooled, she's a clever one. She escaped her previous owner three times and is known to bite! But, by most accounts, with a stern hand, she proves to be a very rewarding pet."
The guard put her hand on Kat's shoulder, sliding it down to the small of her back, waiting for the announcer's cue. The man on stage went on to explain that she had an artistic talent that could easily be monetized, and to add to her value, a tight pussy and ass that were ready and ripe for fucking. She grimaced, but said nothing, internalizing her shame.
When he had finished that disgusting train of words, he motioned to them with his hand, and the guard gently pushed Kat onto the stage. The wood stage was illuminated with bright overhead lights that blinded her for a moment as she stepped out before the crowd of seated people.
"Ladies and gentlemen, here she is. Her current name is Kat, but of course, feel free to change it when you sign her contract.
Kat took up the center stage, hands clasped and feet apart, as she was told to do. As she already knew to do. Five years of this, she thought. She remembered her first time up on this stage, staring at the crowd. She'd cried. Hard. It didn't stop them. Some of them even seemed more interested upon seeing her display of emotion. So here, she showed none. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath, and stood before the Owners without fear. That would come later.
After she was purchased.
Then it was time to be afraid. But not yet. Not now.
"Just look at that form," the auctioneer said. "Beautiful, slender, with an ass to knock your socks off - or your rocks, gentlemen."
A small wave of laughter swept through the crowd.
"She is obedient, as you can see. Kat, spin and kneel," he commanded. Kat did as she was told, spinning slowly for all to see her features, before kneeling on the stage, facing the audience. "See! Much better than the previous one!"
Again, a small bit of laughter erupted from the crowd. Laughter at the woman chasing a carrot on a stick. Kat avoided their gazes, keeping her eyes down, focused on the stage. Let them talk amongst themselves, she thought. It didn't matter anyway.
The auctioneer continued, "Not very good for manual labor, but quite good for housework, sexual pleasures, and anything else your typical domestic slave is useful for! She can cook, too. Sorry construction workers, you'll find she's of no use."
Kat felt a heat rise in her cheeks. Even if she hated this, she hated being called useless even more. She frowned and tried to flush the redness out. Best to not let anybody know that, especially anybody who would own her in the next few minutes.
"So!" he said, "We'll start the bidding at three thousand!"
He took his place at his podium and started shouting out numbers. Kat watched as almost fifty or so hands shot up. She could practically hear the auctioneer's grin in his voice.
"Four thousand!"
More hands went up. Less than before, but still plenty to pale her face. She was wanted. That wasn't a good thing.
"Can I get five?"
Hands went up.
Six? Seven? Eight? All the way up to, "Ten-thousand dollars?"
Nobody in the crowd raised their hand. So, she thought, that was the cap on her worth. Ten thousand dollars. Now, her price would start going down, and the bidding war would begin in earnest.
"Going once, going twice–"
A single hand shot up in the far back, much too far for Kat to see who it belonged to, especially with the lights in her face. The auctioneer pointed to it and said, "Ten thousand! Can we get eleven? Anyone?"
He looked around, and nobody raised their hand. "Going once, going twice..."
Kat felt her heart start to pound. So this was her new owner.
"And sold!" he cried out.
Would she laugh? Would she cry? She wanted to do both, but they got caught in her throat as if they were competing for the space. This was it. The auction was over. She felt her palms grow sweaty as she started to grit her teeth.
Now it was time for fear.
"Ma'am," said the auctioneer, "Congratulations on your purchase! If you'll head out to the lobby, we'll show you to our contract rooms and get you acquainted with your new property! Thank you very much for your patronage!"
As he spoke, guards marched out on stage and stood Kat up. Then, thankfully gently, they guided her off the stage. The guard in front took her leash, and the one in back she could feel eyeing her. They walked her off the stage, down the Auction Hall's corridors, and to the contract rooms.
Kat knelt in the corner as her new Mistress and the broker spoke at the desk near the far wall of the room. The contract rooms were small, consisting of a desk, a chair for the broker and the Owner, a lamp on the desk, and a cushion in the corner for a slave to kneel on. The air was calm, serene, but within Kat, a tension tore at her. This was her new Owner. This was her Mistress.
She was tall, taller than Kat to say the least, and had long brown hair that she wore in a woven braid, with bangs. Her eyes were a deep hazel and had a piercing effect to them, like she could stab deep into one's soul with a look. The way she sat, legs spread, a cigarette in her hand, it made her seem imposing. Confident. Sturdy. There was some unspoken quality about her that commanded respect, and obedience. The way she walked was powerful. She'd strode into the room and given Kat a soft, if stern look, before elegantly taking a seat at the table to talk conditions and payment with the broker.
This is what they spoke of now. They seemed to be wrapping up, discussing payment options, before her new Mistress shook hands with the broker and turned to Kat with an unreadable expression.
"Come," she commanded, pointing to her feet.
Kat, head down, one hand before the other, crawled over to her Mistress's feet and knelt there. She didn't dare look up, keeping her eyes focused on the floor, so she didn't see the hand coming for her head, and when her Mistress touched her, she flinched. But the touch was gentle, soothing even. Her Mistress gently and idly stroked her hair for a moment, examining her.
"Good girl."
Then, she reached onto the desk and picked up the leash that lay on it, before hooking it to Kat's small collar. She stood, towering over her, and gave the leash a gentle tug, saying, "Stand."
Kat did as she was told, if shakily. She slowly pushed herself up, and, seemingly satisfied, her new Mistress tugged on her leash again and started to silently lead Kat out of the contract room. After they'd marched her off the stage, they'd given her simple gray pants and a gray shirt to cover her up, but they were coarse, itchy. She fought the urge to scratch - that would be out of line - and simply followed her new Mistress by the leash, out into the grand foyer of the Auction Hall, with all it's carpets and dazzling paintings of Slave Owners and their slaves, of ocean views, of mountains, its luxurious fragrances, and its throngs of people. She felt small. Vulnerable, surrounded by so many would-be Owners. Abusers, she thought. So many would-be abusers.
Her Mistress led her out of the grand glass doors and into the cool night. The rain had subsided, now, but the smell of petrichor was still rich in the air. She took a deep breath of it in, enjoying the scent, and trying to get her nerves under control. This was it.
Outside, a valet had brought a black, clearly expensive car around front. He handed her Mistress the keys and she thanked him, before opening the door for Kat and saying, "In."
Kat carefully got into the front passenger seat of the car, and when she was settled, her Mistress leaned in and hooked the leash to a small handle on the dash, before reaching over and buckling Kat in. Kat caught a whiff of her fragrance. Lavender and roses, she thought, with a hint of apricot. It was pleasant, warm, but the touch of her Mistress sent shivers down her spine.
Once she was buckled in, her Mistress walked over to the driver's side door, and stepped in, buckling herself in and shifting into first. Just like that, they were off, leaving from the beautiful, evil Auction House and heading onto the highway.
Kat watched as the city lights went by, the downtown district with all its skyscrapers and architecture illuminating the night in the distance. They seemed to be skirting the city altogether, on their way to wherever it was that her Mistress lived. She wanted to sleep, could feel the longing burning in her eyes as she struggled to keep them open, but she needed her wits about her now. There was no telling what her new Mistress would do, especially if she allowed herself to be so vulnerable as to sleep before her.
After a while of silence, to her surprise, her new Mistress spoke, her voice rich and sweet, simply stating, "My name is Alexa. But you will call me Mistress."
Kat turned to face Mistress Alexa, keeping her eyes down. Softly, she spoke. "Yes Mistress."
"Good. And you are Kat, correct?"
Kat nodded. "Yes Mistress."
Mistress Alexa hummed. "Look up at me."
Kat did as she was told, but avoided eye contact. Mistress Alexa watched her for a moment, before saying, "You look exhausted. Tell me, when was the last time you ate?"
Kat thought for a moment, before swallowing dryly. "I'm not sure, Mistress. Hours ago."
"I have dinner ready at home. Cobb made it. You'll meet him later, wonderful butler, he'll take care of you," she said, taking an exit and heading through a more wooded area. Kat tried to think of anything to say, but came up with nothing.
So, simply, she said, "Yes Mistress."
"Good." Mistress Alea gave her a quick look, then smiled at her, a soft smile, a genuine smile, but Kat knew it was hiding something. It had to be hiding something. "Get some rest. You seem tired. I'll wake you once we're home."
Home.
The word bounced around in Kat's mind like a ping pong ball. There was no home for her, she thought. Only dwellings. No homes. She'd lost that, the courts had taken it from her when they took everything from her. Now, there was nowhere for her to call home. There were only houses.
She tried to sleep - she'd been commanded to, and she didn't want to set off her new Mistress the night they met. But she couldn't. A normal occurrence for a slave, she thought. Sleepless nights and weary days. Always the same.