Price of Life: Prologue
#1 of Price of Life
Price of Life and all its characters are © by Czarreynard
"This one is nice, sir. One of the best we've ever carried. Silky coat, beautiful hair, passive, and as you can see, she's quite easily excited," the auction attendant said proudly.
The white-haired, black wolf stood there, inhaling on a stub of a cigarette. He gazed down at the young wolfess slave. She was naked, apart from the shackle around her neck. Despite the brace, she seemed to have no intention of escaping. She sat on her knees with her head down. She was hesitantly playing with herself, though she did not appear to be in the throws of ecstasy. In fact, tiny tears were welling up in her eyes. It was extremely apparent that she did this not of her own will but that of her current master. This was merely a demo to attract a buyer. The white-haired one was not fooled.
Raksha, the man's accompanier, whispered in his ear,
"I don't know, boss. She doesn't look very well fed. Notice the scar on her right forearm. She's a mutt, boss."
The man ignored her.
Dante, the white hair, got down on his knees, placed a finger underneath the slave's chin, and delicately pushed up, so her eyes would meet with his. The attendant, somewhat alarmed, exclaimed, "Sir, please, do not touch the property until you have bought it." Dante, without taking his eyes on the crying wolfess, gave his reply to the attendant, "Shut up. I'm busy. And by the way, don't call her, 'property' or "it", again."
The attendant opened her mouth to argue. However, she thought better of it, closed her jaw and said nothing. Dante, who had been examining the slave's face for a few moments, finally spoke to her. "You've got beautiful eyes, girl."
The girl smiled, and blushed. She blushed not because of her nakedness, but because of the compassion that had just been shown to her. She stumbled to speak, "Thank you very much, Sir."
Dante continued, "What's your name, sweetheart?"
The girl, almost robotically announced,"I am 1-3-2-1-4-5-..."
The white-maned one had cut her short by placing that solitary finger across her lips. "No, dear, your name. I don't care about this number crap. Tell me your real name."
"Sir, my name is Selene, sir."
"Ah, I like that name. It's icy, it's sweet."
"Thank you, Sir."
"Would you like to come with me, Selene? I'm prepared to change your life, but you must accept the offer of your own accord. Only you can make the decision, okay?"
The slave was agape. No man had ever shown her such compassion. It was visible on her face. For perhaps the first time since her childhood, she was being treated as a woman and not a slave. She nodded with slight hesitation, not because she wasn't sure if she wanted to but because she could hardly believe what was happening. "Yes, yes sir, I would very much like to go with you. But I am a slave, my opinion matters not."
"Wrong, it most certainly does. You're just like me, one of the Maker's creatures. And you are not a slave. If you insist on clinging to the life of slave, I'll leave you here. Now I'll ask you again. As a free creature, will you come with me?"
She smiled, but her disbelief still shook her. She shakily managed to say: "Y- Yes sir, I will come with you, sir."
"That's another thing, if I take you in, there'll be no more 'sir' crap, understood? I'm a tolerant man, but that's got to go."
"Yes, si- I mean, yes."
Maxwell stood and said, "Well, then, it's decided. Selene, you're coming with us."
The attendant, still shaken by Dante's threat or perhaps it was because she just made the largest sale of her career, stammered, "Excellent choice, sir. We'll have its...her, shackles removed and brought to the front desk and we'll negotiate a price."
Dante and Raksha moved toward the front desk. Raksha, hurt that her advice had been ignored, snorted, "You never listen. Why do you bother keeping me around if you refuse to take in anything I say?"
Dante, in modest retaliation, replied, "She was a frightened girl, reduced to tears. I may not be romantic; Raksha, but I do indeed have a heart."
"Whatever you say, boss."
Dante arrived at the front desk and sat down in the chair in front of it. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it with a candle on the desk. It was upon lighting the cig that he noticed a very stern looking steer looking at him from behind the desk. The steer flipped open the small folder on his desk, and pulled out several risqué pictures of Selene along with certificates and contracts covered in text. He put his hand to his chin and said blatantly: "500 gold pieces." The bid for Selene.
Dante extended his hand, "Done."
Raksha, shocked, whispered in Dante's ear again, "Boss! What are you doing? You could've gone so much lower!"
Without looking back at her, Dante announced, "There is no price on life, Raksha. 500 pieces is a steal in this case."
The bull and he had shaken hands and Dante signed the release form, thereby transferring Selene's ownership. The bull asked in a gruff voice, "Clothed, or naked?" He said as common as a general store clerk would ask, "paper of plastic?"
Dante, in the most business-man way possible, replied, "Clothed, of course. We may be dealing with slaves, but we're not barbarians."
Either way, the steer did not seem to care and shouted, "Clothes," into the doorway behind him. A few moments later, Selene, clothed in two burlap sacks around her waist and breasts emerged.
Dante sat there, admiring the girl who had just entered his life. "Oh, dear, that just won't do. Come on, hon, we've got a lot of shopping to do."
Selene's face looked puzzled. "Shopping, sir?"
"Now, what did I just say about the word 'sir'?"