"Now let's move on to this exotic duo from Thai--"
Static noise buzzed from the speakers.
A chilling silence once again crept its way into the room.
"Sold to the lucky couple!" the auctioneer's words kept reverberating in the blonde's head.
Her calves and thighs shivered from the cold of the gray cement beneath her feet.
"Sold--"
Who were they, she wondered?
"--to the lucky couple!"
What would her life be like as their slave?
Jim had drifted away to some quiet and empty place in the back corner of his mind.
He too felt the cold on his toes just like the blonde.
He too realized he had just been actioned off as a slave -- thrown in as a "bonus" to sweeten up the deal for the blonde's buyers, technically -- to some wealthy couple. But he wasn't sure how to deal with the fact that this whole situation made his dick stiffen a little. The implications of that were too much for him to deal with in one day. So he locked it somewhere deep inside and threw away the key.
The handler got up behind Jim.
Although he had his back to her, he was somehow uncomfortably conscious that this sadistic woman was staring at him; that he was being inspected.
"Be still now!" the handler instructed.
She snapped a sheeny metal collar around his neck, which consisted of several thin, intertwined rings, then did the same to the blonde, who found the rings cold and disturbingly tight around her throat.
"These collars;" said the handler, "they're made of memory metal. They are tighter than your necks. But they've been expanded. If one of you ever tries to run away from your Masters, both your collars will grow hot and constrict, cutting off your breathing." She paused for a moment, then circulated the room until she faced them. "Is this understood?"
The two slaves glanced at each other in worry and quickly nodded their heads in response.
"I SAID-- AHEM" the handler cleared her throat. A vein bulged prominently on her forehead: "IS THIS UNDERSTOOD?!"
"Ye-- Yes, Madam!" the slaves answered in one voice.
"I suppose it wasn't," the handler brushed off, a tinge of madness in her eyes, "you need a demonstration?"
"NO, NO, NO!!! Please!" the blonde cried out in tears. "I hate being cho--"
The handler spat at the blonde's face and growled: "Shush your dirty mouth! Have you learned nothing from your conditioning? Speak only when asked to." She pulled a small glasslike device from her pants' pocket and swiped diagonally across the surface.
"No, no, n-- Glrkk!"
"Gkk-- Hhk! Kk--"
The collars heated up in a flash and constricted around their throats.
A door behind the slaves' backs slid open.
The choking stopped.
The handler straightened up like a soldier. In a shift of demeanor from commandeering to cordial, she walked over to greet Jim and the blonde's new owners.
"Madam. Sir. Pleased to meet you. I'm Ruth, your slaves' Auction Day handler. I assume you're here to inspect your new property?"
"We are. Thank you," the man said in a low, baritone voice.
The couple, an elegantly dressed Black man and woman in a tailored dark gray suit and a bright yellow dress, flanked the naked slaves.