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Aug. 25th, 2019 03:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
etlabeteIt all seems to happen so fast, once it begins. One day, Mei is the pampered eldest daughter of some of the most-respected mages in the land, a noblewoman in silks and velvet, the apple of her parents' eye, sure of her own place in the world and the love of her family. And the next...
The next, she's here.
She still feels numb, like this is all a dream. It has to be a dream. Almost in a trance, she lets herself be dragged up onto the auction stage by the iron collar that chafes the delicate, pale skin of her neck. Her shackles clink as she's brought to stand in full view of the crowd.
Even though she's wearing only the same coarse shift and chains as the other slaves to be sold, the difference is apparent. The others, a mixture of humans and trolls and orcs and dwarves, are all born to this fate, have lived hard lives already, and it shows in their hunger-sharp features and the scars of shackles and whips on their rough-tanned skin. Mei's skin, by contrast, is milk-white and smooth, her red hair a little dirty but clearly cared for. Under the itchingly rough homespun of her shift, her body has the gentle curves of someone well-fed and never worked hard; her hands are soft and her nails manicured. More than that, though, there's something else that sets her apart: the look on her face, as though she's completely lost in this place, as though she has no idea what to expect. She's been to a couple of slave auctions in her life - upmarket affairs, to help pick out a handmaiden or a family cook - but certainly never from this side.
"Fresh to the market," the auctioneer, a tall, broadset man with a sharp smile, is announcing to the audience, his voice magically amplified, "we have a human female, eighteen years of age. Noble blood, ladies and gentlemen, this one has noble blood, and it shows! She can sing, she can sew, she knows five - five! - languages, a very accomplished handmaid or bedwarmer..."
As he speaks, he's moving towards her, largely unnoticed by Mei herself, whose wide brown eyes are fixed on the staring audience, her body now trembling with tension and fear. She doesn't react until, with a practiced gesture, the auctioneer pulls the shift down and off her, stripping her altogether. Then she screams, her shackles clattering as she tries desperately to cover herself with her hands, to the merriment of the buyers.
"A virgin!" the auctioneer announces, to the laughing crowd, with the flourish of a showman, and gestures to one of the guards, who grabs her arms and forces them down to her sides to give the audience an uninterrupted view of her naked form: pert breasts tipped with blush-pink nipples, the soft curve of her belly and hips, a neat thatch of pubic hair on her mound. "Note the soft skin, the healthy form. You can check her for yourselves, gentlemen, for just a few pieces of gold. What am I bid for Mei here, ladies and gentlemen? We'll start at fifty! Do I hear fifty?"
All the while, the unfortunate girl, apparently shocked out of her stupor, is struggling against the rough hands of the guard, her face red and tears in her eyes, her chest heaving wildly with exertion and emotion.
The next, she's here.
She still feels numb, like this is all a dream. It has to be a dream. Almost in a trance, she lets herself be dragged up onto the auction stage by the iron collar that chafes the delicate, pale skin of her neck. Her shackles clink as she's brought to stand in full view of the crowd.
Even though she's wearing only the same coarse shift and chains as the other slaves to be sold, the difference is apparent. The others, a mixture of humans and trolls and orcs and dwarves, are all born to this fate, have lived hard lives already, and it shows in their hunger-sharp features and the scars of shackles and whips on their rough-tanned skin. Mei's skin, by contrast, is milk-white and smooth, her red hair a little dirty but clearly cared for. Under the itchingly rough homespun of her shift, her body has the gentle curves of someone well-fed and never worked hard; her hands are soft and her nails manicured. More than that, though, there's something else that sets her apart: the look on her face, as though she's completely lost in this place, as though she has no idea what to expect. She's been to a couple of slave auctions in her life - upmarket affairs, to help pick out a handmaiden or a family cook - but certainly never from this side.
"Fresh to the market," the auctioneer, a tall, broadset man with a sharp smile, is announcing to the audience, his voice magically amplified, "we have a human female, eighteen years of age. Noble blood, ladies and gentlemen, this one has noble blood, and it shows! She can sing, she can sew, she knows five - five! - languages, a very accomplished handmaid or bedwarmer..."
As he speaks, he's moving towards her, largely unnoticed by Mei herself, whose wide brown eyes are fixed on the staring audience, her body now trembling with tension and fear. She doesn't react until, with a practiced gesture, the auctioneer pulls the shift down and off her, stripping her altogether. Then she screams, her shackles clattering as she tries desperately to cover herself with her hands, to the merriment of the buyers.
"A virgin!" the auctioneer announces, to the laughing crowd, with the flourish of a showman, and gestures to one of the guards, who grabs her arms and forces them down to her sides to give the audience an uninterrupted view of her naked form: pert breasts tipped with blush-pink nipples, the soft curve of her belly and hips, a neat thatch of pubic hair on her mound. "Note the soft skin, the healthy form. You can check her for yourselves, gentlemen, for just a few pieces of gold. What am I bid for Mei here, ladies and gentlemen? We'll start at fifty! Do I hear fifty?"
All the while, the unfortunate girl, apparently shocked out of her stupor, is struggling against the rough hands of the guard, her face red and tears in her eyes, her chest heaving wildly with exertion and emotion.
