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The Item, Appraised

"We made quite the chunk of change tonight," said a vulture, who was clad in a black three piece suit. The night's profit was stacked neatly on his desk; he had just finished running the numbers. He flashed a grin and stated, "That little scanid actually brought in more money that I thought he would: $267,000." Unable to hold in his excitement, he threw his wings in the air and shouted in what could almost be called ecstasy, " That kid brought us so much cash; it has to be some kind of record!" He began to laugh out of delight.

While the avian of prey was lost in the thrill of fast money, the Doorman was changing into his civilian clothes. He was now naked, except for his plain white mask, in the middle of the bird's private room. His thick, muscly body, drenched in sweat from the night's event, glistened in the light radiating from the fixtures. He remained silent while the black feathered avian reminisced about the sale.

"You put quite the show on out there tonight. I was watching the feeds from the private rooms, and the prospective buyers' attention was squarely focused on you and that Dalmeleon. From the moment you brought him out onto the walkway, the way you played the strong, silent, muscled-bound wall preventing him from escaping complemented his resilience and resistance quite well. You played your role perfectly, despite your qualms."

The skinny vulture stood up and walked up to the masked fur. The difference in their size was obvious; the big black fur outclassed the shorter, skinnier bird in both height and build. However, it was also evident who held all the power in the room. The Doorman stood there silently and motionlessly as the avian looked upon his masculine frame.

"That silent act of yours," he began, "the one you put on in every scene, every act, every show. Whether it's polishing the merchandise or selling it, you always do it without speaking a single word. Except for tonight that is." The bird changed his voice to mimic the Doorman and say, "Get up boy!" The vulture busted out laughing at his impersonation.

After he finished he continued, "I know what you really meant to say. "Get up boy, so I don't have to hurt you anymore."

The masked fur's long, skinny tail jerked slightly at the comment.

"But he didn't, so you had to. It's just as well because, after you kicked him, some of the bidders started toughing themselves. Then, I announced his credentials and forced him to change his coat." The bird paused a moment to sigh in delight before continuing, "It all came together for an excellent performance, and it drove the bids right up."

The nude, ebony fur in the center of the room began to shake slightly. His body stiffened from a sudden touch on his chest; the avian was tracing a feathered finger around one of his pectorals while looking upon him in sadistic pleasure.

"Calm down big guy. Remember, ten percent of every show's take goes towards paying off your debt to me. You should be thankful we found that little gem, for he put a good dent it. A small dent...but a good one.

"Speaking of your debt," the vulture's beak flashed a sadistic smile, "it's time for you to try for this month's bonus."

Taking the queue, the muscle fur got on his knees, undid the button and zipper of the bird's pants, and lifted his mask off his face.

******

A black limousine cascaded out of the city onto the country road. Two hours had passed since his ordeal, and the Dalmeleon sat silently in the back seat, trying to avoid any interaction with the man who had just purchased him. On the other side, a brown horse wearing a grey button up shirt, blue blazer, and black pants was on work related call. His active energy and professional dress starkly contrasted with that of the silent scanind still in that red thong.

"Why the fuck is this happening to me," the young man's thoughts began to process what happened. "I've never went out of my way hurt anyone, I'm a good student, I volunteer at the soup kitchen. The first time it try to step out and date a guy, I get kidnapped and forced into slavery.

"For the last week I was forced to do all sorts of demeaning things while being photographed, forced into lessons on servitude, and fed barely enough to stay alive. Then, I was paraded in front of a bunch of faceless pervs hiding behind screened windows and kicked around by that automaton of a Doorman. When I didn't comply, I was shocked by this fucking collar. I even roared from the pit of my gut, but it didn't keep anyone from wanting my young, virgin frame.

My personal information and abilities were put in that file he has beside him. I'm his. I have no future anymore. I have no reason to live. That's while I resist him. Until he tosses me out, re-sales me, or even kills me. I'd rather die than be somebody's plaything."

Clenching his fists, the Dalmeleon looked out the window of the vehicle to try to calm his mind. His instincts told him to unlock the door and jump out, stick his head out the window and howl for help, or attack the guy and fight his way out. However, he knew that it was futile; the equine had the control to his shock collar. Whimpering on the inside, he made sure to keep up his façade of enduring strength. The sound of the businessman's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Thanks for keeping me posted, Darcy. Remember, I'm on vacation all week, so I'm counting on you as my VP to keep thing running smoothly. Call me if anything develops...You too, hun....Byebye." The horse closed his cellphone and put it in his shirt pocket.

He picked up the Dalmeleon's file and began to look through its contents. "We still have quite a way back. There are drinks in the cooler beside you if you're thirsty. We'll be stopping for food soon. If you want to come in, I have some of my teenage son's clothes you can wear. If you don't want to come in, you can wait in the car. Don't worry; his shirt would cover up the collar."

"Why did you buy me?" the hybrid asked with a slight hint of desperation hidden behind unaffected demeanor.

"Because you were there," the stallion stated in a most straightforward manner.

The young scanid couldn't take the mental strain any longer. He sat up, stared his owner in the face, and shouted, "That's fucking it?! Just because I happened to be there?!"

He felt the collar turn on and reflexively flung himself back into the seat. It was a minor shock. He could feel it, but it caused only enough pain to get his attention. The shock stopped.

"I didn't wish to do that," the equine said while pulling his hand away from the collar control strapped to his wrist. "However, that outburst was uncalled for." He took a second to breathe, closed his eyes, and lowered his head before continuing. "I meant that I went to the sale on a whim, and none of the other items caught my eye; however, you were different.

"You were resilient in the face of adversity. You took every bit of pain inflicted upon you and bore it. You took all your desperation and turned it into strength, albeit momentarily, and roared it out with every bit of your being. Even when ill fortune was crashing down on top of you, you managed to keep a brave face. I like that."

The horse raised his head and gave a small smile to the hybrid. "I've been looking for something wonderful in this despicable world; I saw you and felt that it was destiny that we happen to be at the same place at the same time. And destiny, apparently, agrees with me; otherwise, you wouldn't be in this place at this time with me.

"Now we're about fifteen minutes away from the restaurant I plan to stop at. You can either sit in the car like any other item, or you can join me for a nice meal. Something that you haven't had in a few days, judging by the look of you. It's up to you, boy."

The scanind, caught off guard by the businessman's unexpected air, remained silent for a moment. Suddenly, his stomach growled loud enough to almost echo in the back of the limousine.

To try and play things cool he asked calmly, "What kind of clothes do you have for me?"

"A pair of a nice pullover shirt, kahki pants, dress socks, and loafers. I sometimes like to showoff what I buy, so I want my new item to look good."

He paused for another moment yet again, holding back the torrent of anger, fear, and sorrow inside of him. He simply replied, "Thank you....sir."

"One last thing, Tell me your name. It's in the file, but I want to hear you say it."

After a calming breath, the Dalmeleon said, "It's-"

******

A panther in a police uniform walks out of a dark lifeless building. With regret following him, we walked up to his unmarked car. "One week out of every month I have to participate so that young men and women can be sold to the rich scumbags of the world. Usually, I can act like it's just a consequence of my own actions. But tonight, having to take someone who reminded me so much of myself at that age....And that vulture saw right through me." The officer took a little, black notebook from his glove compartment. "He put on a brave face until the very end; he is the same as me." The black furred feline pulled a pin from his pocket, opened the book, and began writing.

"Jacob Townsend," he said to himself as he added to a little black book of names. The beefy officer, returning the book to its hiding place, got into his vehicle, and started the engine. "Please, forgive me. I promise I'll make things right...Not just for you, but for everyone else I've trapped. Please, stay safe until then."

The cop drove away, heading to his midnight shift.