She was put in a long, black limo, placed on a seat facing towards her handler. He hadn't said a word to her. She didn't know his name. She didn't know her new owner's name, where he was, where she was going to live. She didn't know where they were going. She did know her new owner was wealthy. He had to be if he'd afforded to buy her. She'd looked at the bidding section on her profile. The numbers were dumbfounding.
She realized moments before the limo pulled up to the curb that they were going to her apartment. Her handler had her out of her car and moving up the stairs in her building before she had time to wonder why. Outside the door to her apartment several people where waiting.
There was a poster on her door. "Apartment sale. Everything inside must go!" Oh. She'd seen the same ad outside her building, as the limo was pulling up. Hadn't realized it was about her apartment. They were getting rid of all her stuff.
Her handler handed her handbag to one of the men. In the events after the ceremony, she had forgotten all about it. Somehow he had a key to her locker at school. The man dug into the tiny bag, finding her keys. They let themselves into her apartment.
In the hallway, the man fished her phone out of her handbag, held it up to her. She looked at it obediently, unlocking it. "I found her laptop," someone called from her living room. Her handler led her in there. "What's her password?" the man with her laptop asked. She looked at her handler, and he nodded. She told them.
She had a lot of private things on her computer, on her phone. Pictures, chat logs, naughty bookmarks. Erotic stories she'd written. She hadn't thought to keep them clean for a situation like this.
The man had plugged something into her computer, and something similar to her phone. He was looking at a screen of his own. "OK, we have her logins, social media, file lockers, that sort of things. Sending them to the media team. Copying the drives now before we wipe them so we can get rid of them."
More strangers were starting to come into her apartment, looking at things, asking how much they cost. An old, grey-haired man even asked how much Emma cost, but was told she was the one thing not for sale. None of them said anything to her, just talking to the people in charge of selling her stuff. There were so many people in her living room now that she couldn't keep track of them all. They were opening drawers, taking things out, making a mess. A son to one of her neighbors found her diary.
"This is for sale?" he asked hopefully, after browsing the page he had flipped open to.
"You can just take it," came the answer. "We're selling some of the valuables, like her TV, computer, some furniture. Anything left will be thrown away."
The boy grinned and pocketed the book, then continued to dig through her things.
Emma's face burned. A teen boy now had her diary, where she'd written her inner thoughts about all the adventures she'd had these last few years. With what she'd written, she was sure the scans would be on a porn site before long. It was beyond embarrassing. Though at the same time, she hoped her story would give many men enjoyment.
Her handler tugged at her leash. "OK, in here," he said, taking her to the bedroom, closing the door behind them.
He opened a jewelry case and placed it on the bed. Next to it, a little black dress. "Here, put those in and put that on," he said, nodding towards the opened box. She saw that it contained jewelry and, more importantly, a butt plug with a large, blue gem at the end of it.
"Uh... OK," she said, staggered at the size of the gem in the sex toy. It sparkled in a way that made her doubt it was glass. She looked up at him. "Is that... real?" she asked.
"It's not a fake if that's what you mean," he said. "The gem is Benitoite, the plug is silver. An antique, made by one of the most famous and kinky bondage prop Makers in the world. A custom commission to a sultan, he wanted sets to put on all the girls in his harem. Hundreds of them! But he was assassinated before delivery, so only one was ever made. It's absolutely unique."
The handler indicated the box with his hand. "The set has been passed between antique collectors for hundreds of years. That plug is more expensive than you are. If you put the piercings together, they are too. No previous owner ever wanted to risk the value by fusing the set with a girl, but your owner is not a collector - he wants to use it as it was actually intended. Ever since he stumbled upon the set on a jewelry auction a while ago, he has been trying to find a girl that not only matches it, but is also willing to submit to its magic by putting it on. Then he found something even better - you! No one will protest if he makes you put it on, not even you."
Emma realized that the gem's color matched the color of her blue eyes perfectly. "You're telling me he bought me because I happen to match the color of a butt plug? One that he bought on an impulse when out shopping some day?"
The man chuckled. "Something like that, yes."
"But what about my degree?"
"Just flavor. Your eyes are what sold him on you."
She pouted. "I'm just going to be a fancy holster for a butt plug?"
"Well, for the piercings too, but the plug is, of course, the most important part. Adding you, the set will be complete. And together, you will be greater than your parts. You are becoming something better today. Though," he said, pointing to the case on the bed, "there is some assembly required."
