Mina sat curled up in the old armchair in the corner of her room reading; kept cosy by her warm winter leggings in a shade of hot pink a shop assistant said really went with her olive skin tone. Her oversize grey sweatshirt hid a body-hugging white t-shirt beneath that said something fairly obscene in Chattelandaise but in Pussiana could pass for "classy. She wasn't sure what else she could have been doing at this point, fined to the house as she was. Mina didn't exactly have what anyone could call "a wealth of choices".
It had been a couple of hours since her father had left the house with Zafira for a party at the Jeffersons. Mina didn't really want to think about it. She knew the kind of parties her father, heck seemingly most of the men of Pussiana, attended with work friends at the weekend, and it reminded her too much of what she saw in her own future. She didn't need any more of a preview than what ran around in the darker parts of her own mind.
It had been a week since her Primary Inspection. Of course her father had the money to pay for a private inspection conducted by some friendly nurse and an accompanying fem-vet who'd have spoken nicely and been very careful with her, but instead she'd been told she had to travel to the Bureau of Female Affairs building on Marteau square all on her own and queue for hours to get the "free" one provided by the state.
She wasn't stupid, she knew full well that plenty of girls didn't come back from their PI at the BFA without a neckband but she also knew her father. He had a full two weeks from her PI to see what price he could get for her, and unless someone came in with an offer too good to refuse he would wait that full two weeks to maximise her value.
The worst thing is
, she thought,
I know some of the girls who went for private inspections. Some of those places have really high quality photography areas, sets, and even slaves who do makeup. They come back with glossy copies of their photos for potential owners. What do I get? A webcam with some smeared lipstick and a light spanking administered by the most bored looking BFA agent known to the Androcracy. I could have been worth so much more.
Her father had read her the file from the registry with pleasure. She was A rated, notable features were her smooth skin, long silky black hair suitable for all types of facefuck handle, tight primary fuckhole with good quality secondary and tertiaries available. She was recommended as a high grade private fuck toy, with only a moderate breeding recommendation due to her high level of education despite her being in the ideal zones for height and natural breast size.
The one thing, however, that had saddened her father is that the agent hadn't added a private review to increase her value. He planned on getting some neighbours and friends around to facefuck her for a few minutes each and post reviews before taking final offers from bidders to really try and add to her current appeal. His eyes lit up when he talked about Mina trying to get really teary eyed for the photos, maybe requesting some slaps from the men he was going to bring in to facerape her. Almost ironically Mina was already holding back the tears as she listened to all this; she'd toyed nervously with the high security wrist tracker her father had fitted her with until her sale was finalised.
He wouldn't want me wandering too far, I guess, no father wants to have notes about his daughters being runners on file when it comes time to sell them, she thought.
She repositioned herself in the chair, tucking herself a little bit closer in an almost defensive way, and her mind began to wander;
It's been four years since Leila went through this
, she thought,
Gods has it really been that long? She knew she didn't have a lot of time, and that I would be next. She filled me in on anything and everything as it happened, right down to the minute.
Mina had known everything, from what the PI entailed, to the pictures that went up on the registry; she even knew the way her friends had begun to simply cut her out of their lives and move on as her birthday passed and the ticking clock began.
I can't believe that one morning I woke up, and Leila was just gone,
thought Mina,
every trace of her like she never even existed. The only way her room could have felt more empty that morning is if dad had stayed up all night redecorating it. All her belongings, her clothes, there wasn't even a photo of her left in the house.
Mina's eyes felt the beginnings of tears for a second;
Do I even really remember what she looked like...have I walked past her in the street and never even made eye contact? Where even is she now, could I convince dad to show me her registry page the next time he checks the bids for me? Do I really even want to know?
Mina had once asked their father about what had happened to Leila; she was thoroughly underwhelmed when the answer he gave was simply "Leila is gone." It hadn't helped that at the time he'd been looking at brochures for new cars. That was the day where Mina had really realised her value to the family. She wasn't really a person. She was a new car, a pool in the back garden, a year's worth of groceries, or, worse still, she was worth enough money to buy a lightly used slave, and get change for accessories.
What else was there to say,
she thought,
at least he's never really mistreated me, I hope he gets himself something nice with the money. Maybe spend some of it on a gym membership, look after himself a little.
She did worry. The last few years of school had shown her how fragile life could be as one classmate's father after another seemed to pass unexpectedly early. There was no real link between them, and TV reminded everyone often enough that the Compulsory Female Slavery Law had, if anything, increased male lifespans over the last few decades, regardless of how things looked.
What happened was bad enough,
Mina thought,
but more than once the first moment we knew about the whole thing was when BFA agents turned up, sometimes even with a Slavecop in tow to inform girls they no longer had a "Closest Male Relative" and would be taken into "State Ownership" until they could be sold off.
She knew it probably didn't change the fate of many of those around her, but at least one had been dragged away screaming about her freedom fees being paid by a trust. Mina wasn't quite sure she'd ever get the image of that girl, tears streaming, eyes bulging out of her head as the handcuffs and ballgag were locked in place.
If Mina was really honest with herself at this point she was only barely concentrating on the book; the worn volume in her hands was almost entirely committed to memory already anyway. The thing was probably more of a handbook or lifestyle guide than anything else; Agata Matryschek's key text on the proper behaviour of young women. For a handbook though it was written in this strange rhythmic, almost hypnotic style, making the concept of her ceasing to be a person and becoming simply meat with holes feel normal, maybe even a natural consequence of female existence.
The whole book was darkly reassuring in just how completely and utterly she should surrender and serve her new Master. Mina's hands had trembled when she picked up her copy this time; what once had been a far off notion was now frighteningly real, and her short term survival might be dependent on how well drilled into her every tenet of it was. Once upon a time it had been Leila's copy, and, at least for the moment, it was Mina's. Mina wondered if her father would choose to use Zafira, or some other slavecunt to sire another girl in the future to reap yet more profits from that girl's sale. Mina had no doubt that the book would end up in her trembling hands at some point.
I wonder,
Mina thought,
will they tell her about me? Will that girl know about Leila? Will she take comfort in this happening to big sisters she never even got to know? Will she still let the book take her on the journey it needs to so she doesn't go mad? Maybe dad will just press it into her hands and tell her to learn, and she'll figure it out for herself in time?
She gathered up her school bag and picked out a pen. She opened the book near the beginning, to the double page spread that listed technical details: the year of publication, new editions, and the publisher on the left hand page but with a blank page across from it on the right. It took her a few moments to think about what to write, and in the end went for a distillation of what she knew she wanted to hear right now.
"
I don't know who you are, we may never meet. I know how things must feel. Dry your tears, read carefully. I love you, and I hope that whatever happens it's not as bad as you think it might be,"
she wrote in what turned out to be a green glitter gel pen.
Mina wondered how Zafira was doing. The two of them hadn't known each other for very long, if you could even call it knowing each other at all. Mina's father didn't like to keep a whole harem at once, just a single all purpose slave who gradually looked more and more worn down as the mix of cooking, cleaning, preening, and rape took its toll; he said it kept costs down, and that a single cunt should be more than capable of serving the whole house to his satisfaction. As far as Mina knew she was a sexretary from her father's office that was no longer needed by either the company or her family, and thus had been up for auction amongst all the male employees at the end of summer party.
