Chapter 7: Red Sales In The Sunset

Clegg called me the following day. "Good job on the Hollis pick up," he said. "Knew I could rely on you."

"Well, I'm not sure I'm suited to field operations. It wasn't quite as straight forward as it should have been."

"No," said Freddie. "So I heard. Still never mind. Harry seemed to think you did all right, all things considered. It ended up clean, That's the main thing. Anyway — Sales Centre — you said you wanted to see it. Suggest you get up there today. That's if your headache is better."

I could almost hear the smirk. "Fine. Thanks. I'll get on my way," I said.

The Sales Centre looked impressive from the moment I first saw it. It was a large, modern, building clad in stainless steel, overlooking a lake and parkland. It looked like a very upmarket car dealership and the Ferraris parked in front certainly added to that impression.

I'd been invited to watch an auction. By the time I arrived the buyers were already in place, chatting away one to another. The first lot was already on the block — my erstwhile girl friend, Rebecca.

The auctioneer was standing on a small podium to one side of a stage. "Gentlemen, welcome. Our first lot this morning is #06/078, caucassian, 24 year old female, fully trained as a flight attendant, fluent in French and German as well as her native English. Recently acquired and prepared to level one. You'll see in your catalogue that..."

Rebecca was sitting passively on a stool in the middle of a raised stage, her hands clasped loosely together in her lap, make up perfect. She was staring blankly ahead across the group of buyers that were lounging on couches in of the platform. She seemed almost unaware of her surroundings. She was wearing her Atlantic Airlines cabin crew uniform. The dark blue jacket and skirt were clean and pressed, her white blouse starched and fresh, her forage cap perched on immaculately back-combed and lacquered hair.

"78," the auctioneer called, "if you could let these gentlemen see you move please."

Rebecca looked across of the auctioneer and got slowly to her feet. Without a word she walked slowly from left to right across the stage, turned to face the buyers and then walked back to stand beside the stool. As she did so I realised that the heels she was wearing were higher than anything she'd have normally worn on-board and her skirt had been altered to make it narrower, giving her walk an agreeable wiggle.

"Your jacket, please," the auctioneer said. Rebecca slipped the jacket from her shoulders and placed it neatly on the stool. "And turn, please." Rebecca turned around, giving the audience a good view of her body. "Open the blouse." She stood still and unfastened the buttons of her blouse without protest. As she let it fall open I could see that she was wearing a white under-wired bra that was presenting her tits to the best advantage. She normally wore something with a softer line. I had to admit I preferred the new look. She let her hands fall to her side. "And the skirt, please." She unfastened the waist band and stepped out of her skirt, placing it on top of her jacket. She was wearing stockings, a plain white garter belt and white panties. These guys evidently know how to get a girl to do what they want, I thought. I'd been trying without success to get Rebecca to wear stockings ever since I met her, but then I hadn't tried shutting her up naked in a cage as a way of convincing her that I had the right ideas about how she should look. I wondered if they'd had her on the fellatio trainer too. "And turn again." Rebecca did as she was told. I looked at the group of buyers, they were nodding approvingly. "There we are, gentlemen. I think you've all had the opportunity to examine this lot. I have a number of initial offers so I would like to start the bidding at $60,000, Eu72,500 or 6.9M Yen."

There was a flurry of response in the room. Bids ran quickly up to $90,000 but then slowed. The auctioneer walked over to where Rebecca was standing. "Come along, gentlemen, please," he said "I'm sure we can do better than that." He clicked his fingers and pointed to the floor. Rebecca dropped obediently to her knees. "Very responsive, you see gentlemen and with some unique skills from her airline training."

One of the bidders to my left was muttering into a mobile phone. He waived his catalogue to indicate a further bid. More bids followed and the price skittered up to $130,000 before stalling again. "Are we all done, gentlemen?" the auctioneer asked. "It's in the room at $130,000 Against you, sir," he nodded to the man on the mobile phone. "For the last time, at $130,000. No more?" The man with the mobile phone shook his head. "$130,000 then." Rebecca peered into the audience, looking scared. She looked back towards the auctioneer as the gavel came down. "Sold! Thank you."

As soon as the gavel came down a man appeared on the platform with a pair of handcuffs. He waited for the few moments that Rebecca took to get dressed before cuffing her wrists behind her. The auctioneer said, "Client 1033." The man wrote the number on a label and fastened it to the collar around Rebecca's neck. He grasped her arm and led her from the stage. The auctioneer turned back to the audience. "Our next lot is #06/082," he said as another girl was led onto the stage.

The buyer who had been successful in his bid for Rebecca got up from his seat. He was a thin man, a little shorter than me, blinking short sightedly at his surroundings. I approached him as he went to leave the room. "I wonder if I could have a word," I said.

He looked at me myopically, peering through thick lensed glasses. "Yes,, Yes, of course. You're Clegg's new man, aren't you?"

"Err, yes, Larry, Larry Ross" I replied, surprised that news of my appointment had been shared with Clegg's clients.

"Don't worry," he said, "Clegg and I go back a long way. He told me he was bringing in someone to help with the business. I'll be interested to see what you make of it. I've been buying here for years and I've had some good pieces from him. This one's going to be handy for my new business jet."

"Were you pleased with the price?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "not bad at all. I thought it was going to be even better at one point but that phone bidder kicked it up a bit. That's what I like about Clegg's sales, there's often quite a small number of buyers. Means that prices stay sensible if you get my drift."

I nodded, hoping to get him to talk further but he made his excuses to go.

"I'm sorry, I really need to go and arrange shipment details for that young lady. There's another lot I'm interested in a little later on and I'd hate to miss it."

"Of course," I said. "I don't mean to hold you up. Enjoy your purchase."

"Thank you," he said. "I really think I will."

I watched as some more lots went under the hammer. Each time the girl was brought out, told to exhibit herself by removing some or all of her clothes and then subjected to the humiliation of hearing the bids called out.

The auction came to and end. The buyers began to disperse.

I heard a voice behind me. "Larry, can I have a word." It was the auctioneer. "Hi," he said, "we haven't been introduced yet. I'm Brian — I run the Sales Centre, Freddie asked me to look after you."

"Well thanks Brian. The auction seemed to go OK."

"Yeah, not too bad. We could have done with a few more buyers. The prices weren't all I'd hoped for. Still, the stewardess fetched a good price. Better than expected."

I thought back to what her buyer had said. I wondered who had the better idea. I said, "This is a pretty impressive place."

"Glad you think so," said Brian. "Come and see some of the stock." He gestured to the door that the girls had been brought through. We walked down a corridor similar to the one at the reception centre, its glass panels looking into a series of cells. Given that a sale had just finished I was surprised by how many girls were still there.

Brian suggested that we stopped by one of the cells and listened in. There were three of them in there; all naked and chained but not gagged. They each wore a collar from which a chain ran to a ring set in the wall. On a low table in one corner of their cell stood four beakers and four metal plates that held the remains of a meal. Brian flicked a switch on the wall and a speaker crackled into life above our heads. The girl sitting on the floor with her back to us was speaking, the others looking at her. " ... after all if that's what needed."

"No, Sally," a dumpy brunette standing opposite her folded her arms. "Can't you see that's just giving in to them?"

"We're not supposed to use names," a redhead standing beside Sally said. "Please don't use names, they might be listening."

"And you," the brunette was scornful, "you're every bit as much help to them as you can be, Anna and what are you getting for it? Is your chain any longer than mine? Is your collar not as tight as mine? Are you raped less often?"

Anna hung her head. "No, no. It's just that we should do as we are told. It will be easier for us."

"Easier for them, you mean. You can give up your name if you like. I'll hang on to mine as long as I can."

"Why weren't we sold today? There was a sale today, I'm sure."

"Who the fuck knows? What does it matter, Sally? What does it matter? We're still here. Maybe we can get out of here."

"Perhaps it's because you're so difficult." Anna spoke out. "They'll keep us here until you're ready to do what they want. And don't talk about trying to get away, they'll punish us if you try to get away. They'll punish us if we talk about trying to get away."

The brunette span around as the cell door opened and two guards entered. Without a word one wrenched her arms behind her back and cuffed her wrists together. The other jammed a plug gag into her mouth and strapped it tightly in place. "You know the rules, 201," he said. "No names." She tried to kick out at him, earning a slap in the face for her trouble. The man holding her arms pushed her down in a corner of the cell. He walked across to Anna. "Thanks for the tip off, darling," he said as the two of them left the cell locking the girls in once more.

Anna looked confused. Sally said, "How could you? How could you?"

"I didn't. Really I didn't," Anna replied as Sally moved away from her.

The brunette grunted angrily into her gag.

"Did she?" I asked Brian.

"No, I shouldn't think so," he replied. "It's just the sort of thing the guards will do to break them up and break their spirit. They'll have heard them talking on the monitors."

"Shouldn't they be a bit more docile than that after orientation? I mean the others that I've seen are really disorientated."

"Well, yes, they would be usually but if we're holding them until a specific buyer is available then we do some of the orientation here. I'm not sure what's gone on there but they're probably due for another week or so here. Maybe I'll talk to the Prep Centre."

We moved on to another room. "I thought I'd give you a buyer's experience," Brian said. "I've had a few girls put into the display area where the buyers get to check out the lots before an auction and then we'll have one of the girls brought in for a pre-sale interview ... As far as she's concerned you're a potential new owner. It'll give you a chance to see how we set things up for customers. Are you happy with that?"

"Yeah, that sounds fine. I'm sure I can project myself into the mind of one of your customers. Where's the display area?"

Brian pointed to another featureless door. "Through there," he said. "Come on, I'll show you." He opened the door to a brightly lit room.

Along the left hand side of the room as we entered were five diagonal crosses of wood on the facing wall were another five, identical to the first except that four of these were each occupied by a naked and shackled girl. With their hands cuffed above their heads, one to each upper arm of the cross and their legs spread with their ankles cuffed to each of the lower arms, they were completely exposed and accessible to the prospective buyers.

Brian showed me each of the girls in turn. "An interesting selection," he said. "The results of a visit by one of our teams to a shopping mall. We 'borrowed' one of the dress shops there that caters for young ladies like these. Dresses for those looking for something a little daring to go clubbing in perhaps or to impress a prospective boyfriend. We made a few adjustments to the arrangements of the changing rooms and we were able to collect these delightful specimens. I think you'll find them to your taste."

"Let's see," I said walking up to the first and youngest looking girl. She looked terrified as I gripped her chin and turned her head from side to side, examining her face. "Hmm, a bit of acne I see."

"Ah," said Brian, "often a problem with diet for girls of this age. You'll find that will clear up with a normal slave's feeding regime."

I took hold of a hank of her auburn hair. "This feels a bit oily to me and the hair seems quite brittle."

"Yes, said Brian, again changing the feeding regime will help that and of course she colours her hair. I'm sure you'll either be using better stylists than she could afford or returning her to her natural colour or keeping her shaved. I don't think that should be a problem."

"Maybe not," I said. I moved my hand back to her face. "Eyes look clear enough though."

Brian looked at the number on the tag attached to the girls collar and consulted the list on the clip board he as holding. "Let's see. Yes, perfect vision without glasses or contact lenses, this one."

I let go of her chin and let my hands run down to her breasts. They were pleasantly full, with perky nipples that stiffened to the touch and wide dark areolas. "And these are real?" I asked, bringing a whimper from the girl.