Story 3

In the days after the Reevaluation, once everyone realized that this was very much for real, most single women did everything they could to settle down with a man willing to pay for them. Boyfriends became husbands, casual flings became steady partners, and sometimes complete strangers found love within a few days. The idea of going up on an auction block, or worse, a government facility, made having an owner that you at least somewhat knew seem like a great deal, and the man would get a bit of a discount on a girl that he would have had to pay more for otherwise.

Gianna had been one of those single girls looking for a man to call owner while she still had a little choice in the matter. Gianna, though, was unlucky. She first called her most recent boyfriend who’d left her to move across the country for work. She cried and begged him to take her back, offering to move out to live with him, but he wasn’t interested. She called a one night stand she’d had a few weeks ago, but he didn’t have any money together or any interest in taking out a loan for her. She started calling male friends, but they were either against the idea of owning her or didn’t have the money. She even posted an ad online looking for someone but it was lost in an avalanche of similar ads. Had she had more time Gianna likely would’ve found someone willing to take her in, but the inspector showed up, unannounced, only two weeks after the beginning of the evaluations. Gianna was very unlucky.

She knew what the white van was the second it pulled into the driveway of the apartment she shared with two friends. She selfishly prayed it was for one of them but when the heavy knocking began the voice on the other side called out “Gianna!” dashing all hope.

Gianna opened the door and the man pushed inside. He had a paper with a picture of her on it. He confirmed her identity and then secured her with ankle cuffs. She could walk but she wouldn’t be able to run away. There had been a number of incidents recently, particularly with single girls, and the inspector didn’t want a repeat.

“Gianna, I’m to understand you have no male in your life potentially willing to pay for you?” the man said, frisking her roughly.

“That’s right,” she said sadly.

“Undress,” he said, sitting down on the couch and relaxing just a little. Gianna pulled off her t-shirt and bra but stopped at her shorts.

“I can’t,” she said, pointing down at the ankle cuffs. The inspector got up, walked to the kitchen and grabbed some scissors. He went back over to her and cut them off, starting in the crotch and finishing with the back. The inspector knelt and inspected her vagina and ass, then stood up and held each breast in his hand. He wrote some quick notes. Medium length natural red straight hair, pale skin with freckles, medium breast size with teardrop shape, mostly fit body, 23 years old.

“Alright, to the van,” he said, opening the door. Gianna was surprised that was it for the inspection; she’d heard stories about girls getting raped by their inspector or even multiple inspectors. In the early days though things were moving so fast that obtaining a value for the single girls wasn’t really a priority. The market would determine that. The inspectors still took liberties when they wanted, but this one had had a long day in front of him. Gianna thought she was lucky.

She got in the van and found that she was alone in the back. The inspector must have just made a deposit. Her ankle cuffs were chained to a bar on the floor and her wrists were cuffed as well around a bar at waist height. She could sit uncomfortably facing the wall of the van or stand but laying down was impossible. She stood, holding the bar her wrists were chained to, and the van sped off.

A few minutes later the van stopped and the inspector turned it off. He was gone for about an hour and it got unbearably hot. Gianna was a sweaty mess when the door opened and another, prettier girl was loaded in next to her. The girl looked incredibly distraught and had red marks on her breasts and ass. The door shut again but the van didn’t move. A short while later the door reopened and a chubby girl was forced in. She was chained behind Gianna and kept bumping into her when the van pulled off again.

“You’re fucked,” the pretty girl said to the chubby one, coldly, when she bumped into her instead after a tight turn.

“Shut up,” she said, crying.

“You’ll be lucky if they use you for breeding. You’ll probably be milked on a farm.”

“That’s not a thing!” she yelled back. “Have fun in a government run brothel!” Gianna stayed quiet as the girls bickered.

“Guess your husband thought he’d get something better at the auction. Maybe he’ll buy me,” the pretty one replied. It caused the chubby girl to cry even harder. The van stopped again and sat for close to an hour. The heat was even worse with the sobbing chubby girl and seething pretty girl crowding Gianna in. Nobody said a word other than unintelligible curses the chubby girl hurled at the other. Finally the doors opened again and a short Hispanic girl was loaded in. Gianna thought this must be the most that could fit in a van, but another pulled up next to them and two more girls were unloaded and put into hers. They couldn’t even move.

They got going again but it was a half hour drive to the processing facility. All six girls were miserable the entire way. They were crushed up against each other, forming one giant sweaty sticky mess. Gianna dreaded what was coming next but wanted this hellish ride to be over.

When the doors opened again Gianna could see they were outside of town. There were large barbed wire fences around and thick trees behind them. The girls were unloaded onto a concrete pad and a long chain was run through their ankle cuffs to link them together. An armed guard led the nude girls in to the building, pushing Gianna, the last in the line, in the back with his gun when they slowed down.

Until about a year ago the building had been a jail, and very little about the inside had changed. The visitors section and recreational areas had been turned into offices, but the barred cells remained. As they walked through Gianna could see that the cells, designed to hold two people, now housed between six and ten nude women. Gianna dreaded being stuck in the same cell as the former neighbors who had screamed at each other in the van and felt a little relief when she was placed in a cell without any of the rest of her group of girls.

Her cell itself was horrid, though. There were five other girls in her cell. It had two plastic coated beds and one open toilet. Each bed had two girls sitting on it and one girl was sitting on the floor. There was barely room on the floor for Gianna to sit down. When none of the other girls said anything to greet her she took the hint and kept silent herself.

After a few hours of sitting on a concrete floor in silence she heard a male voice call out “Shower time!” Gianna knew she needed to bathe but from the reaction of the other girls in her cell could tell this wasn’t something to look forward to. She watched men unfurled fireman’s hoses into the holding area. They each stood in front of a cell and blasted it for about a minute before moving on to the next. When it was Gianna’s cell’s turn the girls all stood up. The man blasted Gianna and the other girl that had been on the floor for a few seconds before she felt a hand on her shoulder pulling her back. The next two girls took their turns and then the final two.

When the men were done Gianna noticed the others were scooping up any water they could in their hands and drinking it.

“The only other water we have is from the toilet,” one of the girls told her, motivating Gianna to drop to her knees as well and scoop up what she could. It didn’t taste good; the floor was filthy, but the prospect of drinking from a toilet was worse. Once it had all drained out of the room Gianna sat back down on the floor.

“I’m Angela,” the girl who had been sitting with her said, making eye contact for the first time. She was black and thin, with small breasts and curly dark hair.

“Gianna.”

“You won’t be here long,” she said softly. “A week at most. They process us pretty quickly.”

“Process?” Gianna asked warily.

“From what I’ve figured out they either send you to the auctions, brothels, or disposal. I don’t know if disposal is actually what it sounds like, but...” her voice trailed off.

“How long have you been here?”

“Two weeks, but I should be out soon. You’ll be quicker though. More demand for white women. Just how it is.” Gianna felt a little embarrassed that things like that still mattered. Another group of girls were led in and two was placed in her cell. The crowding was intense now; to fit Gianna had to sit with her knees pulled up into her chest and part of her leg still crossed part of Angela’s.

That night when the lights were shut off Gianna looked around, unsure of how she was supposed to sleep. The two girls on each bed managed to both fit laying down, although some of each girl hung off the bed. Angela motioned for Gianna to lay down on her side, and when all four girls on the floor did they could just barely fit. Gianna’s face and body were pressed lightly against the bars and another girl’s body was pressed against hers in the back, but they could at least lay down.

Gianna didn’t sleep well, but she was asleep when the lights were turned back on and some men walked up and down the halls clanging pans together. “Food time!” they yelled. The girls sat back up. Gianna had hoped that they would be alternating floor versus bed but that didn’t seem to be the case.

The same men from the showers the night before came in, pushing large wheelbarrows and carrying shovels. Now at each cell they shoved in scoops of steaming oatmeal. When they got to Gianna’s cell they laughed and aimed all of it for Angela. There was no room for her to move to avoid the hot pile that was thrown on her and she had to sit and take it. The girls each knelt around her, scooping it up with their hands and eating as much as they could. It was to be their only food for the day.

The next four days followed the same pattern. Each night they were hosed off and each day oatmeal was dumped into their cell. Gianna nearly vomited the first time she had to drink from the toilet but they did their best to keep it clean. Two of the girls were taken out for the auction block and replaced within the hour. The facility was at full capacity. Angela and Gianna made some small talk during the days but for the most part the other girls remained silent, defeated.

On day five two guards came and, after checking a photo they’d been sent with, pointed at Angela. She got to her feet and stepped out of the cell once the door opened.

“Where’s she headed?” one guard asked as he put the cuffs on her ankles and restrained her arms behind her back.

“Disposal. Too many niggers on the auction block, too many niggers in the brothels, too many niggers in my goddamn cells,” the other said with a laugh. Angela began to pant and panic.

“Wanna have some fun with her before we take her?” the first guard asked.

“Naw I’m good, but go ahead,” the second said, stepping back. Gianna watched in horror as the guard forced Angela to her knees, her face pushed into the concrete, and fucked her from behind. Angela was facing toward the cell and Gianna could see as she just let go, resigned to her fate. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she stopped even crying. The guard finished deep inside her and pulled her up to her feet. She still had a distant look on her face. Gianna tried to make eye contact to say goodbye but Angela was slack jawed with her eyes glazed. She’d be dead within the hour but her soul was already gone.

The next day they came for Gianna. When the guard said she was headed for the auction she felt a mixture of emotions. It seemed the best of the three options but the idea of being bid on was terrifying. She was led back through the door she’d come in through and loaded into a van with four other girls. One was the pretty girl she’d ridden in with.

“Where’s your friend?” Gianna asked after they’d driven a little way.

“Disposed,” the girl answered, eyes glazed over and fixed straight ahead. Nobody said a word for the rest of the ride.

The van stopped and the girls were taken out and led in to a large building that had previously been a school. There were plenty of empty schools now though, since their student base had been sliced in half. The classroom she was taken to had been turned into barracks, but it was a large upgrade over where Gianna had just been. Each girl had their own bed, and the twenty or so girls in there had four sinks to share. A man walked in once they had been placed.

“You’ll only be here until tomorrow so don’t get comfortable,” he started. “Get some sleep tonight, the better you look the better place you’ll end up. Last thing you want is to be stuck in the milk farms,” he said with a chuckle. Gianna couldn’t tell if he was serious. “Food will be here in two hours and lights out in four. No chit chat and get a good night’s rest.”

The beds were partitioned such that Gianna couldn’t have seen another girl if she’d wanted to, but she was shaken by Angela’s rape and likely death and the idea of being sold like livestock so she didn’t feel like speaking with anyone anyway. Silent men brought them their food; each girl got a tray with a salad topped with grilled chicken. It wasn’t great but it beat floor oatmeal. As promised two hours after dinner the lights were shut off. Gianna tried unsuccessfully to sleep.

The morning Gianna found the number thirteen tacked to the doorway. She sat up in the bed and tried her best to relax.

“One through five!” a man yelled. Five girls walked out through the door. About an hour later he came back. “Six through ten!” Five more girls exited. When Gianna heard them come back she stood up even before he called out “Eleven through fifteen!”

The guards led Gianna down the hallway and into another classroom. This one was set up like a beauty salon. Gianna was led to a seat.

“Hi there,” the cheery hairdressed buzzed, working quickly to wet and start shampooing Gianna’s hair. Unlike the subjects the hairdressers weren’t nude.

“Hello,” Gianna replied awkwardly. Another woman walked over to her while the stylist did her work.

“Gianna, right?” She nodded. “Great, so I know right now’s a little tough on you but it is what it is so you should just focus on making the best of it.”

“And how should I do that,” Gianna asked with an edge of sarcasm.

“Be cooperative, before during and after the auction. Try to smile and look pretty. The prettier you look the better place you’ll end up! There’s all sorts of guys at these things, guys that you can live very comfortably with and ... guys with whom you will not. So it’s best to try and get one of the good ones.” The stylist started putting makeup on her. “Now this next part is going to hurt a little bit but the numbers show it increases your value by as much as 10%!”

A male technician came by with a medical cart. Gianna’s chair was leaned back and ice packs were rubbed on her breasts. She felt several hard pinches as needles were shoved into her breast tissue and she was filled with saline. It ached but wasn’t excruciating.

“You’ll be back to normal in a couple days and the guys know we do this, but they think with their cocks and will pay more for you anyway.” Gianna looked in the mirror. She couldn’t argue that the extra volume didn’t help. Her makeup was finished and she was guided out of the chair. Her chest felt heavy and weird.