I stared at the obese tub of man sitting across from me, his fat roles barely restrained by the grey three piece suite he was wearing, his bald head glistening slightly. A trader here to offer me a very special deal to celebrate my 26th birthday, his wealth displayed subtly by a platinum earing with a large diamond drop. His company had been dealing with my family for generations, or at least since his trade had come back into business, which was longer than you would expect. Now, he had waddled into my home, my country estate (where I had retreated in blatant disregaurd for my sister's plans for a very public celebration) to make me an offer.
He was a very successful man; his business was slaves.
Slaves were illegal of course, except when you were participating in some kind of bondage scenario, but that was your own business. That they were illegal didn't mean that they didn't exist however. After all, drugs were rampant, as was crime. Both illegal, both almost impossible to stamp out.
Of course I knew how to control a slave, how to train one for every possible thing that I might need. My father had insisted on it, claiming that there might be a time when I would need a much more loyal person than what a job's salary could provide. He had had two slaves acting as his bodygaurds for several years, and they had also helped to demonstrate the treatment expected from an owner. Being an owner was not all that it was cracked up to be. Or, more appropriately, being a *responsible* owner was not all that it was cracked up to be. You were suddenly so much more than a person, you were someone else's entire *world*. You were depended upon, relied upon and needed by a person who had nothing else, could not possibly be anything else, without you to give it to them, to show them how. So many people think that slavery in this day and age is a simple entrapment of a body, the working of someone else's will on an unwilling participant. It can be that way of course, but it can be infinitely more complicated as well.
Pleasure slaves, body gaurds, personal attendents, companions, pets, assistants, all those things and more could now be bought. Sometimes, you only had to get one or two slaves to fill all those jobs. The best ones were spirited, loyal, intelligent and beautiful. Fiery and inspiring, submissive in the bedroom, practical in the outside world. These were the slaves that Trader Luthe specialised in. He owned, or had access to, the most successful training grounds in the world as well as the colonies; The Jewel Factory. The most unique thing about these slaves however, were that they had no desire to leave their master. They were trained so thoroughly that they had no want to be free. Therefore, it was impossible to set them free.
The slaves from The Jewel Factory were the highest priced, the most sought after, and the most rare. Each one recieved a training name that was also the name of a gem, hence the term 'jewel factory'. No slave produced from the factory would sell for less than 50 million. Their highest bid had been 1.02 billion. Slaves were definitely for the uppercrust of society, especially old money. Families who had their fingers in so many pies that their yearly source of wealth afforded tham any priveledge money could buy. The peacecraft family was one such as this. We had been around when the colonies were being built and before that. We could trace our lineage back as far as you would care to look. Our wealth had sprung from early investments such as computer companys, mining, fashion, fibre optics and too many more to count. The Winners were a family like us, although, they were not as old, and certainly not as wealthy. The world thought they were, but that is merely because the Peacecraft's own the financial magazine which publishes those things, and we would not want the world to understand how vast our empire was.
"What exactly do you have for me?" I asked, not wanting to perchase, but not wanting to make an enemy of this man. I was not in the market for a slave, but perhaps Relena's children would be, and I would not alienate this man from our family. Also, I wanted to see the slave that was worthy enough to be given to a Duke of the Sanq Kingdom. (Relena's idea, mainly to keep me a part of the royal family and important enough to make descisions in her stead.)
"Tanzanite!" Trader Luthe called out sharply, and a figure I had not noticed before removed itself from the shadows lining the walls and walked towards us. The slave had a slender appearance, graceful and seemingly petite, although I could not see much under the long black cloak that flowed around him or her. The hood was up, Tanzanite's head was bent, and these two facts combined to make it impossible to see his or her face.
The movements flowed, like those of a dancer or assassin. Curiosity caught me in its embrace, and I had to know more. Tanzanite stopped by Trader Luthe's side, waiting for the command that would not be long in coming. "Draw back your hood and let the master see you boy." Long fingered hands encased in supple black leather gloves reached up and drew back the hood. I found myself holding my breathe in anticipation of what those dark shadows concealed. I gasped in shock as I looked directly into the eyes of Duo Maxwell.