[Episode 154150] [Episode 154150]So, it hadn't been all that comfortable when he'd sat there on the velvet couch when he'd faced those men. He'd gotten there through another Yakuza clan's influence, and those people had been both honorable and powerful enough to trust in. That made it somewhat easier to negotiate terms, since those men were willing to talk without playing games. Had it turned out like he'd heard had happened to a factory owner that he'd met once or twice, he would have been devastated.
Of course, it had been bad enough when he'd finally seen Akane, when they'd trotted her out like she was a well behaved pet. She responded in much that way, as she hadn't even fought them when they'd taken her out and in the car on that time when he'd met them to talk about the price for her. There hadn't been a single flinch from her, even when they'd haggled over her price, nor when the 'boss' had run a hand over her body when they'd tried to 'rattle his chains'.
Yet, he'd managed to buy her back, and now she was home for as long as he could keep her there, though he still had an 'unclean' feeling from having to deal with those Yakuza. Certainly, with Saotome bringing his son to fulfill the promise, she was going to be someone else's property again, but this time he was controlling her destination. He knew that he wouldn't live forever, and his past had already caught up with him too much so far to doubt that it wouldn't do it again. That made the idea of giving young Ranma all of the girls, and his home an appealing idea. What he wasn't terribly looking forward to was trying to explain to his daughters that they were going to belong to someone else again, but that didn't change the fact that he was going to have to have a family meeting about this.
Though, he did have to wonder just where was Akane, anyway.
There were 'ghosts' here, and Akane could almost see them move in front of her.
All around her was the solid feeling of the past, as if each board making up her family's dojo was actually holding memories. Being here allowed her to be wrapped up in a time when the world had looked bright, and her family had seemed secure. Right there in the middle of the floor, her father had held her small hands as he'd directed her in the proper form in throwing a punch with her mother looking on, smiling at the scene. It was a life that she'd thought would go on forever, and she'd been unable to see any trouble coming in the future.
She couldn't imagine herself being so innocent ever again. Most of that she blamed on her own stupidity, as she'd had a fairly dull position when she'd been placed in that 'General Labor' spot. Then she would have been fairly safe and secure, if bored. But at that time she'd been so mad that she couldn't hold it in, or so she'd thought. Her anger had been directed at the people who were using her as a grunt, those who treated her like something not deserving of respect, and, mainly, at her father who had allowed all of this to happen. Even when she'd been sold off again, she'd been quick to blame everyone but herself.
Her time in the pits had taught her that her way of thinking was wrong. That place was one that didn't tolerate whining, fussing, or any other sort of outburst, save in the 'accepted' ways. It had taken her several occasions of her being beaten to the floor to recognize the fact that they weren't going to be even pretending that she had any sort of rights, even if she was a slave. Having that dark, barren, and cold cell be her home was what started the erosion of her pride, and they made sure to keep on grinding it down. If she didn't fight like they wanted, it didn't matter, since she'd just get beaten up anyway. Training was brutal, and they didn't let up, trying to push her to give up her defiance, which worked to a point.
In the end, they'd hit upon what would work on her. Over the time that she'd belonged to them, she'd seen all sorts of girls and women. She'd met teenagers who'd been sold by their parents to cover debts, young women who'd owed money to the wrong people, professionals who'd been blackmailed, and many others. They had become fighters like her, waitresses, secretaries, sex toys, and a whole host of other things, including a few that she'd cared about. When they'd realized that it was about to get harder to break her, they'd gone after her weakness.
A girl who had been something of a friend had been used against her, not that the girl in question had wanted to aid them herself. But that hadn't been their idea at all. Instead, when she did something that they didn't like, the girl got hurt, no matter how much she'd scream for them to stop. The time that she shoved her 'trainer', the girl had been punched across the jaw so hard that her mouth was full of blood. When she'd complained about having to fight, they had taken out a police baton and beaten the girl with it until her young friend had been twitching and making odd gurgling noises. Each time that she did something, that blameless kid got some kind of suffering put on her, with Akane being forced to watch, like being choked simply because of Akane's need to take a breather. Seeing that poor, innocent, and scared girl get tortured when she acted out made her realize that she couldn't go on with it.
Because of that, she stopped trying to force some sort of control out onto her world. Internalizing her control was all that she could do, and she had learned how well she could push. That meant that she merely let them whip a girl from a high school track team until she became a ponygirl for their races. It made it so that she didn't react when middle aged corporate bigwigs, who had wives and daughters of their own in many cases, came to 'enjoy the slavegirl buffet', so that she merely dropped whatever she was wearing to allow their grubby hands, and other parts, to go upon her sex. Even being groped didn't matter to her eventually, to the point where she only moved when she was told to.
Oddly enough, that part was almost amusing to her, if it wasn't so frightening. She had let them train her until she not only reacted on cue, but had a need to do it when she was told. In fact, she actually felt somewhat more at ease when she had someone telling her what she should be doing. Despite not being a shrink, she knew that she'd gone past having it be a habit, and into it being a part of her.
To tell the truth, that was why she didn't even think about rebelling against her father. She saw him not so much as her 'parent', as her 'owner'. No matter what he would tell her to do, she would do it, without question or delay. What she'd gone through had broken all taboos for her, and she accepted what she was. Being a slave was what she was, and now it wasn't so bad as it had been. But she was still the 'living weapon' of her Master, and whatever he said went for her.
A part of her mourned that innocent, yet fiery, young girl that she had been. Pieces of that child had remained, like when she'd taken newcomers under her wing, but she'd long grown used to being what she was. What was lost couldn't be reclaimed, and she couldn't see herself as being worthy of getting it back. Sick as it was, she'd actually come to welcome the focus and control that her time as a pit fighter had given her. After all, with what she went through, you either learned to deal with it, or you, like many girls, broke forever.
Akane knew that she was 'damaged goods', but couldn't work up the will to rail against it any more. In her own mind, she was a piece of property, and she could only hope that she would have good masters or mistresses. Having served, and serviced, men and women who saw her only as something to use for their own pleasure, she knew how thankful she should be to have someone who at least let her rest.
Sighing with the knowledge that she'd lost so much, she closed her eyes, and let the silence fill her, while:
(Posted Fri, 28 Jul 2006 09:29)
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