I awoke bleary-eyed and confused. What had happened?
Memories of the previous day returned to me. I had been walking to meet one of my friends for a night out on the town. I had been dressed in a fitted black dress that came to my mid-thigh and had a low back, it was one of my favourites and it made me feel sexy and confident. I was hoping to meet someone tonight. I hadn't been out in a while, and I'd been single for even longer. Tonight was a night for change. My honey-blonde hair fell in slightly wavy tendrils down to my breasts.
Music from the club boomed as the doors opened and I felt myself getting excited, I had been so focused on my college studies and now that my exams were finished I knew it was time to let loose a little. I met my friends at the bar and we quickly opted for shots of tequila. We proceeded to get tipsy and dance our hearts out. I made my way up to the bar to get myself a beer. A handsome young man approached me and offered to buy me one. He was tall with brown hair and warm brown eyes, I couldn't resist. I chatted with one of my friends until he came back, holding the beer. I thanked him and took a deep swig, the cool refreshing taste hit the back of my throat and I felt the warm tingling sensation of alcohol follow.
'Would you like to go somewhere, quieter?' He whispered into my ear. I eagerly nodded and stuck my tongue out at my friends who were jeering at me. I giggled and eagerly followed him.
That was when I started feeling woozy, and not from alcohol. 'I think I'm going to be sick.' I said following him and stumbling. He looked back at me and gave me a warm smile.
'That's okay, let's just get you outside and into some fresh air okay?' I nodded silently, fearful that I would vomit if I spoke. However when we got outside I began to realise what was really wrong with me. I didn't actually feel ill, I was feeling drugged. I began to panic and attempted to stumble back into the safety of the club, but the drug was taking effect for real now. I could barely see, let alone stand. The last thing I remember was my poor attempt at a struggle and my weak cries for help as strong arms gripped me and the world faded to black.
I now found myself in what I could only describe as a cell. It was a white room with padded walls and floors. I guessed that whoever had taken me didn't want me to try to harm myself. There was a joint in the padded wall which I assumed was the door. Naturally enough, there was no handle on the inside. There wasn't much else to note in the room. There were several small cameras embedded into the room, ensuring that there was no blind-spot.
The next issue I decided to address was my attire, which was non-existent. I tried to distract myself from succumbing to a full scale panic attack by trying to assess my situation. I was locked in a very safe and secure room, I was being watched, and I was naked. From this I came to two conclusions. One; they wanted me alive and unharmed for now. And two; given my nakedness I could only assume that there were sexual connotations to my predicament. After all I was taken from a nightclub full of pretty, drunk young women. Why they chose me, I had no idea.
I hadn't been awake in my cell for long until the door opened. I immediately ran towards it, hoping that I could push past whoever was entering and escape. I collided into a man's chest, which felt like rock. Before I could make any move he had lifted me up and over his shoulder. I screamed profanities, bit, kicked, and spat at him. But to no avail. After a short walk down the hall he brought me to another white room. This one smelled sterile and had an array of implements and a chair in the centre, not unlike that of a dentist's, but with cuffs at the sides and bottom. He dumped me in it while I continued my tantrum in vain. He cuffed my wrists and ankles while continuing to ignore my insults and struggles. Then he left me thrashing against my bindings in that sinister room. About two minutes later a woman entered, the click of her maroon heels echoed in the clinical room. She wore black tights and a burgundy dress, over which she wore a lab coat. Her auburn hair was pinned back in what seemed to be a painfully tight bun which sat at the top of her head. She wore a pair of black glasses and sharp red lipstick. She looked like an efficient woman who meant business. I glared at her but did not struggle in my bonds, this woman would not assist me. She sat down in front of me, clicked her pen, and glanced down at her clipboard.
'Sofia Harper.' She began.
'How do you know my name?' I interjected. She looked up at me coolly.
'We have a record on you, Miss Harper. You were not chosen at random from that nightclub. You were being monitored for some weeks before that. We carefully selected you as you as we feel that you will meet most of our customer's criteria. Now, I am here to explain your situation to you, but if you are so rude to speak without permission then I will have to gag you. Are we clear?'
'Yes. We're clear.' I replied reluctantly, but I did not want to be gagged, I was already restrained enough as it is. These new revelations unnerved me. I had been watched for how long? Weeks? Months? I shuddered at the thought of my life under surveillance.
'Now, Miss Harper, before I begin I must ask if you have any existing medical conditions? We have of course already examined your medical history, but not everyone deals with legitimate doctors. I would also like to assure you that answering truthfully to my questions is the wiser option. You can live your days uncomfortably, or relatively pain-free. The choice is yours, but if you become ill we have doctors who will see to you. Neglecting to inform us of any medical conditions will not free you by death, we most certainly do not want you dead Miss Harper.' She finished, staring at me coolly, awaiting my answer.
'No. None that I am aware of.' I replied.
'Excellent.' She jotted something down on her clipboard. 'Now, you are no doubt wondering as to what your situation is. Well, rest assured that by no means do we wish to harm you. In fact we wish to improve your appearance and give you something of a makeover.' She smiled a fake smile at me. I glared back at her, not buying any of her bullshit. 'Of course you are a smart girl.' She said, the smile replaced with a cold expression. She had realised nice guy routine wouldn't work on me. 'I am sure you are aware, or at least have a vague inclination as to what our ulterior motives are. We are preparing you for auction Miss Harper. You are to be sold as a slave, to the highest bidder. We actually suspect that you will be the prized girl at this auction. You may not be a virgin,' I looked up at her, horrified. 'Yes we know. We've done our research. But you have been educated, you're a middle-class citizen, and you're quite beautiful. Most slaves we sell come from poorer families, some are already whores, nobody will miss those kinds of people. But someone like you is a commodity, and while you could be a potential risk, you're rare and extremely valuable, and you'll add flair to this auction. You'll sell for a much higher price as well.'
My blood was running cold. I had expected that they would just prostitute me, I had a chance of escaping then. But now? Now I was going to be stuck with some filthy rich man who could afford to keep me under lock and key 24/7. I wanted to cry, I wanted to struggle against my bonds and scream and kick. But what good would that do me? I had to appear strong. I wanted them to know that they could keep me tied, but that they could not break me. I gave the burgundy woman my most malicious gaze. I wanted to convey what I was feeling with my eyes. It must have done something because she gave me a strange look, something similar to surprise, or shock. However she quickly recuperated and continued her monologue.
'You will be branded with a tattoo on the back of your neck. It will be in white ink and minuscule. But it lets anyone recognise what you are, if you try to escape. As well as that you will have a tracker implanted into you. This is a very small object. It won't hurt you and you will not be able to notice it once it's implanted. However, we will have to sedate you while we implant it, so that you do not know its location. You will also undergo laser hair removal in your pubic area, armpits, and legs. We sell our slaves hairless whether or not you, or your buyer approve. Think of it as a trademark for our company. Finally, your hair and make-up will be done before the auction and you will be dressed in the appropriate clothing. For some of these procedures you will be conscious, for others, you will not. If you give bother to any of the employees then you will be sedated for the entire duration of your preparation.'
I didn't bother to reply to her. I gave her an icy-cold stare until she turned around and left. Soon after a team entered 'to pamper me' they said. I spat at them and bit at one girl's finger that came too close to my mouth. There was a sharp pain in my arm and I was out again.
I awoke once again in a cell, not unlike the last, but with the addition of what I presumed to be a two-way mirror. I slowly rose from the floor and stared at my reflection. Regrettably I had to admit they had made me look quite pretty. My honey hair was artfully curled in soft voluptuous curls. My eyebrows were pristinely plucked and my make-up was immaculate. I could feel the smoothness of my hairless legs brush against the fabric of my clothes. I was wearing a deep wine coloured dress with gold detailing. It came to a collar in my neck and flowed down the rest of my body and had a slit cut up its side so that my leg peeked out. It was quite revealing, ending at my upper thigh. The back of the dress was practically non-existent as it began at the small of my back, leaving me feeling quite exposed. I turned around and pushed the hair away from the back of my neck, exposing my still irritated branding tattoo. It honestly looked like a bunch of squiggles to me. There were deep red cuffs around my wrists too, but luckily I was not chained to anything. I presumed they were for restraining me during the auction.
Having nothing better to do I simply sat in the room and contemplated my fate. I assumed I was well and truly trapped. This slaving company clearly had high paying buyers if they could afford to so thoroughly prep me before selling me. It was fairly likely that I was no longer even in my country any more. My homeland was not rich enough that people could afford to buy people, especially from such a high-quality dealer. I presumed I was in Pangea. The slave trade there was practically legal. No one there would bat and eye to someone tied to a leash in the middle of the street. It was often used as an alternative to imprisonment, whereby one could choose to a designated period of servitude or wait out their sentence in jail. Pangea was probably one of the most powerful countries in the world. It was a militant nation and in the past few decades they had developed a nasty habit of going to war with countries and swallowing them whole. I was fairly certain they wanted to take over the world. Luckily my home country of Oocyte had been spared from their advances, though I assumed they'd eventually move to take us as well. We were not a priority, being a small neutral island country. I guessed that my nationality was another factor contributing towards my high auction value. It would be quite rare to find a slave from a 'free' nation. Most slaves would have been taken from countries which had already been conquered.
