"Thousands of years ago humanity put aside its differences to rise up as one and make every star in the night sky their own. This era of peace was not to last. Far off world's grew resentful of those closer to our ancestral home, those hungry for power chafed at the bonds of cooperation forced upon them. So the Republic splintered into countless shards. One man saw this not as the tragedy of ages but as an opportunity. Terra itself with all its bickering senators fell to his will with little resistance. In blood and fire planet after planet of the old Republic was subsumed into the bloating mass of the new Terrus Empire.
In the chaos much was lost. Cultures were snuffed out. Understanding and learning was fed to the fires of war. Caesar after Caesar rose and fell. Still the Empire grew, never sated, always hungry for more worlds to consume and remake in its image..."
From orbit Catena had looked unlike any other planet the slave had ever seen before. She was no backwater planet serf who had never stepped foot onto a void vessel before either. Her home system had fought back against the encroaching mass of the Terrus empire for decades before finally being overwhelmed. The slave herself had been the steersman of a transport ship, ferrying troops and supplies around. She'd seen nebulas blossoming into life. Stars rendered to ash. Even once she had made landfall on one of the pleasure filled bath worlds of Empire itself. Despite all of that, what she had seen out of the murky porthole of the
Trireme-
class vessel that the slavers had converted for their use still shocked her. The planet below appeared to be split almost perfectly in two. The top half looked to be made of pure gold and resolved itself into a lattice work of roads and marbled buildings as they drew closer. The scale of it was mind-boggling, even from this height she could make out statues, fountains and exotic gardens that would have been the size of small cities back home. What was the oddest of all though was it appeared to be barely populated. All the vessels avoided flying over it. In the two hours their descent took she only spotted a handful of transports moving over its surface.
As she was shoved off of the slaver vessel by one of her captors it swiftly became apparent that the bottom half of the planet where they had landed was made to handle the other half's lacking population. She staggered along a grimy oil-stained hallway, chained hand and foot to the slaves in front and behind her. Sailors of all species jostled and pushed past them. Through archways she saw endless squat buildings made out of the same dull grey material as the corridor they walked. Vendors hawked their wares from stalls. Legionaries in gold and purple armour marched through a heaving sea of people that parted all too eagerly for them. Finally they reached the end of the hallway and she was hit with a sudden wave of noise, the heat from hundreds of bodies and the sudden dread of realising where she was.
An auction house.
Someone in the chain-gang behind her cried out as they were taken forwards into the processing pens. Here they'd be cleaned, marked and collared ready to be sold off to the highest bidder. For decades her people had fought not to be part of an empire like this. Now here she was. Still, she would not break. She was a warrior.
The merchant sighed in boredom as he sipped the javan from a paper cup the slave girl had served him. It was hot and too sweet but it served to keep him awake as he surveyed yet another batch of new intakes ready to be processed. The owner of the javan shop had been a genius in renting the second floor of the auction house and then installing a glass floor. Each day merchants flocked here to try and spot any prize slaves before they went up on the block for sale. Up until now the slavers had brought in no one of interest but at that moment something caught his eye. A muscle bound woman with tattoos up and down her arms that marked her out as a steersman was being stripped bare. The defiant tilt of her head was not something often seen by ones brought to the auction house, many resigned themselves to their new fate on their way over to Catena itself. He gathered his robes around him, threw some denarii on the table for the drink and rushed to the door. If he could get a hold of her slaver first then maybe he could snag her before she went to auction. A rarity such as her might even interest the Dux himself.
As always when he tried to leave this place he was accosted by the
real
reason the javan house did such a roaring trade. The two greeters at the door. Both beautiful blondes, with full breasts and sculpted asses, clad only in their slave collars. It was their job to keep patrons in for as long as possible.
"Sir, the owner has just informed me that for your loyal patronage you may use my body as you see fit after your next drink."
He ignored the woman as he brushed past her to the exit. As tempting as she was a greater prize awaited him downstairs. The auction house was always packed when new intakes came in. Most of them were not here to buy. As he hurried through the maze of corridors he passed sordid delights beyond what even the greatest poet could dream up. Slaves dressed in provocative outfits forced to dance to attract punters to different stalls. A wine seller had several slaves bound in stocks that formed the bottom of his bar. It meant that only their faces and hands were visible to buyers, conveniently located at crotch height should you sit at his barstools. As he drew closer to the processing pens in the enormous atrium that formed the majority of the auction house he even spotted a "try before you buy" offer sign that some slavers had placed next to an array of their wares of whom were chained, asses facing outwards, to a wall. From the noises that reached his ears it was clear many had taken them up on the offer. Finally after battling his way through the crowds the merchant reached the processing pens. Utilitarian and made of simple metal fencing, they offered no comfort. Desperately he cast around looking for the prize he had seen from above. Peering through the gaps in the pen's fences it was clear that she had been rushed through the process.
In other words someone had beaten him to her.
With a sigh he gathered up the hem of his robes once more and headed back to the javan house. Perhaps the greeters offer still stood...
The glorious Dux Janko Verstere owned the planet in its enitrety. He had been rich before but now with the income from the slave markets that filled the bottom half of his world his wealth was beyond imagining. As such when he grew tired of his playthings and wanted more, he most certainly did not leave his hemisphere palace himself. Instead he would send his "picker", the man who's sole job was to know the Dux's tastes at that very moment and pick some new playthings to suit it. Right now the picker was waiting on the processing to finish on his latest purchase. A strong looking woman that the Dux would enjoy breaking in. As he waited, he watched in amusement at the sight of some third-rate merchant frantically scrabbling at the bars of the processing pens. Clearly having spotted a prize in the den of filth upstairs that he now could not find. He shook his head in disappointment. If one wanted wealth on Catena it was not through trading but through working for the Dux. Something none of these
fottudo
merchants seemed to understand.
++Ready to depart.++
The picker looked up at the sound of the synthetic voice. Accompanying him as always on these purchasing trip were members of the Dux's personal guard, his Mulier. For all extents and purposes they looked like golden statues of beautiful naked women, their joints and eyes highlighted in deep purple. He didn't know if they were automatons or actual women but none the less it was certain they were excellent at their job serving their master's needs. Whether that be his defense or otherwise. He nodded his head and stood up.
"Go load them onto the transport. I've got one last stop to make, a contact has been holding something special for me."
Without a word passed between them all but one of the Mulier moved to usher the chained together line of new purchases out of the auction house. He followed behind them but upon exiting the building turned in the opposite direction, his guard only ever two paces behind. It didn't take long for him to walk the grey stone streets to his destintation. Whether it be his household uniform or his guard, the bustling crowds parted before him. The shop front they arrived at appeared to be nothing special at first glance, unadorned as it was. To those in the know though it was a gold mine. The front for an organisation that kidnapped from worlds at war with the Empire. Though kidnapped was maybe too blunt a word. "Cherry picked" would be a better descriptor, after all what sort of refined civilisation would let potential high-end pleasure slaves go to waste?
Alyssa glared defiantly at the man who entered the building. Throughout the day people had arrived to buy the others who had been stolen away from their homes just as she had been. Now it was only her that remained. Since her arrival this morning her captors had stripped her bare and marked her on her ass with a sub-dermal brand. The information written on it reduced her to little more than a number and a date of capture. The humiliation had not ceased after that. Each of the slaves had been made to stand over a metal post with a bulbed top, slick with some form of lubrication. Slowly the pole had extended until the top met the slave's pussy, then, aided by the lubrication, it pushed its way inside of them. Not deep enough to hurt. But enough that even stood on her tiptoes there was no way to get off of it. Effectively imprisoning her whilst putting her on display to be inspected.
The newcomer looked nothing like those who had arrived earlier in the day. He looked almost regal, clad as he was in purple formal wear chased with gold. He was rake thin and aging but held himself like a proud young stud. Alyssa's eyes grew wide at the sight of what followed him in, a living statue of metal. She had never seen the like before on her home planet and couldn't decide if she found it awe inspiring or incredibly tacky. As the man entered, her captor who had remained to man the "shop", swiftly stood up from behind his desk and gave a deep bow.
"Princeps Silas, you honour us with your presence."
"Yes, yes, of course," the Princeps replied in clipped tones, he pointed to Alyssa, "is this the merchandise?"
"I am no one's to be sold you imperial bastards!" she snarled.
For a moment she relished the look of surprise on both men's faces, the statue didn't even flinch.
"Well I am impressed, she certainly fits the Dux's refined palate
and
she speaks the lingua communi," chuckled Silas, completely ignoring her after the outburst.
