by Tman
Mifune worked his hands nervously, and wiped sweat off his brow for what had seemed the hundredth time this evening. In all his forty years of auctioning off human flesh in the Empire, never had he ever felt such nervousness about a sale...He’d NEVER seen so much barely-concealed interest in a slave transaction, not even that time twenty-eight years ago when it had been rumored that they’d had a disgraced member of the Imperial Family on the block!
For a moment he thought he heard sounds from outside. The last time he’d checked, it had looked as though three separate crowds had converged to stage a protest on the steps of his auction center. The Christians had been front and center, but he couldn’t make out what the other two groups were. At least the police were very much in evidence, a line of riot police standing on the front steps, several vehicles parked in positions around the building...So far, the mob had been content with yelling and waving banners...so far.
And the lobby where the factors’ escorts waited...Traditionally-clad house samurai, modern-clad house samurai, security personnel, house mercenaries, all staring or glaring at each other, or trying pointedly to ignore each other, and more police standing around to make sure a repeat of the Warring States Period didn’t break out over the last snack or cup of tea set out by the nervous-looking auction house hostesses waiting on them.
All this for one temporary-contract slave? The house had already sold off some sixty-four bodies today, some quite talented or beautiful, most of them permanent use, and those auctions had gone without anything remarkable being said or happening, but THIS...He once again was glad he’d asked for extra security to be in place before the slave in question had even arrived under guard from the Adjustment center.
He assayed another peek at the gathered crowd.
There, up front, as expected, the factor for House Kuno...
Behind him...
Mikado Sanzenin was here in person, of all things! Looking as arrogant as he always had at his publicized sporting events, with his own little entourage...
The woman with the purple hair and the red jacket who looked nervously around...Mifune’s experience marked her as an ex-slave; such always tended to be anxious if they set foot in a slave market again....
A young man, a short-haired woman beside him, their eyes covertly scanning the crowd like any of the security of the auction house....or like police studying a crime scene...
The other man and woman in yellow kimonos, decorated in golden lions...
The bald man with the red mark on his forehead and the gold dragon emblem on his jacket...Mifune had never seen him before...
There, off to the side, a woman in black that looked more like a military uniform than anything else...He couldn’t see anything of her face, but her expression was severe, her bearing like that of a ready blade....
There were others in the crowd who looked less like menials or bureaucrats, but more like warriors, assassins, or weapons...Some of them WERE likely protection for the factors who would be actually bidding, despite the measures to make sure the inevitable accompanying samurai and their weapons stayed OUTSIDE...but you could never tell with some of the names listed....
Even the unremarkable ones that LOOKED like menials commanded attention by virtue of the emblems of who they represented; Mendo, Mishima, Akahara, Meioh, Diazuki, Hyundashi, Seburo....The sheer amount of potential wealth and power represented out there was both daunting and dizzying.
He licked his lips, took a drink of water, steadied himself for a moment, signaled the barker who’d handled all the previous sales to come back, then stepped out onto the stage himself, settling himself behind the microphone, pushed his wireframe glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, and did his best to nonchalantly read from the auction list.
“And next, ladies and gentlemen, esteemed customers, we of Mifune’s Auction House are pleased to offer up for sale a full-use debt slave, ....Slave Number Sixty-Five...Ranko Tendo...!”
“Time to go, slave Ranko.”
The backstage beautician made a final swipe with a comb, then stepped back. Showered, trimmed, cleaned, and prepped, Ranko was dressed in a thin coverup, a metal collar, and nothing else.
Not waiting for a second prompt, she proceeded up the ramp, out onto the stage.
There was suddenly an almost palpable increase in atmospheric tension in the auction bay, a sudden ripple of perking attention...
“Finally!”
“That’s her.....little wisp of a thing, isn’t she?”
“...beautiful!....”
“Goddess be praised, at last!”
“ah-Ha!”
“Good muscle tone...nice hips...”
...what have they DONE to you, child?....
“...This oughta be interesting...”
...so this is what’s all the fuss is about? I see now....I could part with some of my hoard for this....
“Tonight, your lips will be mine!”
“*snort* Doesn’t look like much to me....You SURE about this?”
“...quiet, Ryoko!”
....she was here! At last! Within reach! Instinct screamed to be freed...Protect....the plexiglass barrier would not hold...see it waver from the air conditioning alone?...Just go through...Shield...Protect...assume tactical position, neutralize any resistance, and out....simple enough....could do it all in a matter of seconds...
Touch at side...a reminder...No...not yet...Let the other do their assigned role...weapons remain sheathed, inactive...but Instinct is hard to keep under control....
Protect her...
“That’s her! I remember seeing her after the bank!”
“...niccccceeeee....”
Her mind blank, empty of all fear, all self-consciousness, all body-modesty...Only the desire to obey, to please, to be a good slave, to show the best of herself...
...cringing, trying not to scream, to cry, to rebel at the indignity, to rage at the staring, WANTING, gazes, but wanting desperately to do so, but there are still the Tendos to protect...but the pain...the shame....
“...a real natural beauty, this one!”
A touch at her shoulder, and the clasp on the coverup opens. The garment pools away at her feet, and Ranko steps naked onto the dais, exposed for all to see.
“Bidding begins at....”
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(Posted Sun, 20 Dec 2009 19:39)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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