Bought
By: Tara CrescentI’d been a slave once against my will. It would take every bit of courage in my body to be a slave again.
Hot wax was spread on my arms and my underarms. Strips of cloth were laid on top and smoothed down. Upon first contact with Madame Lorraine, I’d received a list of grooming instructions for the next six weeks, until her investigators had time to complete the extremely thorough background check every single potential slave was subject to. “We find that Masters and Mistresses prefer their slaves without stubble,” it had said. So I’d had to dye all my pubic hair instead for this waxing.
Now with swift tugs, the strips of cloth were pulled off and my body hair with it. I bit my lip and endured the thousands of pinpricks of pain that covered my skin. Finally I was shown into a bathroom and told to wash off all the sticky residue. “We will style your hair next,” Sarit told me brightly.
Lovely. I bit back the sarcastic response. I just nodded quietly instead.
***
When I walked out, clad in the thin black silk robe Sarit had handed me, two other women were in the room. Two fellow submissives, designated for the auction block. We studied each other with open interest.
“Hi, I’m Elena,” one of them said to me. She had flaming red hair, the kind I used to have, before my need to be bought by Alexander Hamilton had necessitated the change in colour.
“Hello,” I replied. “I’m Jenny.” With a pang, I realized it had been years since I’d had a conversation with a woman that was any more meaningful than ordering a coffee or a drink. I thought of Lisa and Amber. The three of us had lived in the same shabby East Cleveland neighborhood and we’d all worked in ritzy Beechwood Mall for extra cash. We would carpool as often as we could since money for gas was always tight.
So many things were lost to me as a result of the revenge I sought so that my soul would once again be whole. Marc. My friendship with Lisa and Amber. I had no time for meaningful relationships. I didn’t have a home or any kind of stability. Everything I owned fit inside one suitcase. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done something as simple as watch a movie while eating popcorn.
The third woman spoke. “First time?” she asked me. Her voice was friendly.
I nodded. “Is it that obvious?” I asked ruefully.
She laughed. “You look really nervous,” she told me. “Relax. You’ll have a great time. This is my third go-around.”
“Really?” My curiosity must have been obvious because she grinned at me.
“I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours,” she promised with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “My name is Susan.”
Sarit came over at that point and hurried us to three chairs. “Sit, sit, sit,” she chided. “We have your hair to do.”
Susan laughed. “Sarit, you know it doesn’t matter. They are just going to undo anything you do so they can run their hands through our hair.”
“I still have my job to do, Susan,” Sarit said firmly. “I don’t want to get punished by Madame Lorraine.”
“Liar,” Susan retorted, and they both giggled. “I know you love getting punished by Madame Lorraine.”
I listened to their back-and-forth banter enviously until Susan turned to the redhead, who had stayed quiet and nervous as well. Behind me, a silent Thai girl moved to my hair, rubbing some kind of sweet smelling gel into the strands and massaging it into my scalp. “You look nervous too,” Susan remarked. “Don’t be. It’s really fun. Why did you decide to do this?”
“I wanted to serve,” the redhead replied softly. “I’ve played in clubs but it doesn’t feel real to me. I’ve tried to find a Dom but that’s more complicated. I had one for a while but when he wasn’t dominating me, he just sat on the couch and watched TV, and didn’t do anything for himself. That’s fine for fantasy but it’s hard to sustain a real relationship that way.”
I nodded. I had been a virgin when I was taken, more interested in the imaginary worlds that I entered when I was reading than in the real world in front of me. But Lisa had had a boyfriend and he was very much like the guy the redheaded woman was describing.
