“Hell—oh, my!” exclaimed Kasumi on opening the front door and peering at two large men. Up at two men. Two very large men. “Uhm, can I help you?”
“Good evening, Miss Tendo is it?” introduced the first man. “We’re hired goons.”
“Hired goons?” echoed Kasumi.
“Our card,” added the second, proffering said identity.
“ ‘M’sirs. Crabe and Goyle Esquire’,” read Kasumi, “ ‘Goons for hire. No job to large, no job to small. We’ll rough ‘em up right and proper, we will.’ Oh why, you must be here for Ranm– Ranko.”
“Thaz right,” said Crabe, or perhaps Goyle. “She’s got an appointment with a Slave Adjuster.”
“We’re here to see that she gets there,” said Goyle, or perhaps Crabe, holding out as clip board.
The other goon cracked his knuckles meaningfully. “Or else.”
“Oh, I see,” observed Kasumi blithely upon reading the paperwork. “Well, this all seems to be in order. Just one moment, if you please.” She bobbed politely, then turned to call into the house. “Ranko! Hired goons are here for you.”
“Hired goons?” echoed Ranma, jumping down the stairs fourteen at a time. “Did you say, hired goons?”
“That’s right,” replied Kasumi. “Here’s their card. Crabe and Goyle—goons for hire.”
“I see,” said Ranma, examining the plastic. “They’re here to take me to the center then?”
“Yeah,” answered Crabe–or–Goyle. “Do you want to go quietly, Miss Tendo, or kicking and screaming?”
“OoOoh!” exclaimed Ranma, “well now, if I have a choice…”
“Ranko!” interrupted Kasumi. “No violence please.”
“Ah. Quietly then,” regretfully sighed Ranma.
“Are you sure?” asked Goyle–or–Crabe. “Cause we gets paid extra for kicking and screaming.”
“Sorry gentlemen, but we need to keep the property in good condition,” apologized Kasumi.
“Oh, we never hurt our captives,” assured Goyle–or–Crabe.
“Unless we’re paid to,” amended Crabe–or–Goyle.
“Which we isn’t,” reminded Goyle–or–Crabe. “Not this time.”
“I meant the house,” observed Kasumi. “I just finished the carpentry, and Ran– Ranko gets a bit … excited when she plays.”
“Maybe I could…” Ranma began to offer.
“No, Ranko!” interjected Kasumi; most firmly. “Just go quietly all the way. We don’t want any fuss in the news to reach Lord Kuno, do we?”
“Awe! This was my last chance to have a little fun.”
“Oh, you’ll be having a lot of fun soon, I assures you,” ominously rumbled one goon.
“Good morning, Miss Tendo. I’m Doctor Michiko Henkoi, and I will be handling your adjustment.” She took out a folder and quill pen. She indicated a place at the kotatsu where tea, cake, and biscuits lay waiting.
Ranma blinked as the hired goons withdrew from the room. The pleasant living space–obviously an attempt to put the new slave at ease–was not quite what had been expected.
“Please make yourself comfortable, Dear. Now, before we begin, and for the record, your name is Ranko Tendo?”
“Uh. That’s what they call me,” answered Ranma.
Michiko nodded and marked a form. “And you have agreed to be auctioned off for a period of full access indentured service to pay off debts? Colloquially referred to as a ‘full use.’ That is to say, a pleasure slave.”
“Oh, yeah,” responded Ranma in a tone that could not be described as enthusiastic. “I know.”
“And you are completely prepared to undergo personality adjustment to ensure proper service?”
“Yeah, I guess,” replied Ranma with even less enthusiasm.
“Mmm… I see. Willing but not eager, is it? You are aware, of course, that, with your looks, you may be employed in the water trade, kept as some aging businessman’s trophy sex slave, or such?”
“Uh huh, I know,” answered Ranma knowing that it could—no, would— be worse than that. Ranma shuddered with the image of herself, kneeling lovingly in gauze linen at a triumphant Tatewaki’s feet, flashing before her minds eye. “But I have ta, you know.”
“Mmm, why yes. I have read your file. It is a matter of honor with you, then? This, being your last chance to back out, and you are not going to take it?”
“That’s right.” Ranma grimaced, then set his jaw.
“Very well then,” Michiko sighed, signing off the sheet. “Now, you are aware that you will be adjusted to be happy to do your very best to satisfy your contractor with full use of your body? To even enjoy it!”
“Yeah.” Ranma grimmaced. “Is it really that effective?”
“Oh, indeed it is. I promise that you will find contentment and excitement in surrendering your body to pleasure. We take pride in our work. Does that thought console you?”
“Not really,” admitted Ranma. “But, uhm, it’s just temporary, right?”
“Until your dept has been paid and your tenure ends, then you will have your personality restored from backup. But I must warn you, though, you will still remember what you’ve done, and that will leave an impression; your body will certainly remember, and as a martial artist you understand the persistence of muscle memory.” She paused to let that sink in, then asked, “So, with that said, I ask you one last time, are you prepared to go ahead with full service enslavement, or do you wish switch to a longer term of limited access service, or even to seek some other means to repay your debts?”
“Nah, I have ta go through with the deal,” affirmed Ranma. “Can’t leave the Tendo’s in the lurch, ya know?”
“Well then, Dear,” said Michiko with a sigh and making a note to include speech and deportment training. “Well then, let’s begin. Sign here, here, and here, then drink your tea.”
“My tea?”
“It’s now drugged, of course,” said Michiko pleasantly, dropping two pills into the cup and stirring them in, then sitting back and taking a tea cake. “So much easier to administer.”
“Uhm, right,” nervously agreed Ranma, signing the forms then gingerly raising the cup. “So, uhm, here’s to slavery.”
“Cheers,” saluted Michiko Henkoi, then sipped her own tea. “Don’t worry, my Dear, soon you will be looking forward to it.”
Not entirely a comforting idea, thought Ranma as the drugs started to take effect.
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(Posted Tue, 15 Dec 2009 07:55)
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