No idea.

In the end, only Druuna and Caliban, her new owner, remained. Also old Hogue, and the brute named Bedford. The youngster didn't waste any time and took a close look at his new property with an amused smirk on his face. Obviously he liked what he saw. She was young, beautiful and obviously quite healthy. Caliban considered her a good bargain.

The two other men looked at each other. Hogue finally shrugged with his shoulders, got up from his ragged chair, and turned to leave, giving Druuna one last, lecherous grin. Bedford, however, still didn't seem to be willing to accept his defeat. Druuna noticed the way, he clenched his hand around his shotgun, turning the knuckles of his hand to a milky shade. His lips twitched and he shuffled restlessly with his feet.

"Don't get any glorious ideas, pal," the young man said, without even taking his eyes away from Druuna's unveiled assets. "It might not be healthy to anyone of us. Most likely you more than me."

"Bugger that, asshole," Bedford growled. "I ain't in no hurry to meet my creator. Dere's plenty of occasions to cash in a good deal. So, stop looking at my gun as if it was a damned viper. I'm jest still here to make you another offer you cannot resist."

Caliban stopped to feast on Druuna's good looks and turned his attention to the broad-chested man. "So?"

"Look, you've said you are a businessman."

Caliban nodded. "Guess I said so."

"Aye, you did." Bedford scratched the stubbles on his chin. "Well, how about making some profit with this slut?" Bedford gave Druuna a look that left no doubt what kind of business he had in mind.

"What do you suggest?" the young man asked, his voice flat with nonchalance.

"My name is Bedford. Mebbe you have heard of me." He cast an inquiring look at Caliban. When the **** dealer didn't react, he shrugged again. "Nevermind. I run a small place, where people can shake off the hard labors of the day and forget the hopelessness of this shithole of rubbish. Its location is only known to a handful of people. I select my customers with good care. And everybody has a gain from it: My clients know they will be undisturbed during their stay, and I receive good coin for it."

"In other words, you run a hidden brothel, pal." Caliban didn't even flinch as he stated the obvious.

"Yeah, right. I see you're not only a successful businessman but a smart person too. I really think we might get into a deal." Again, Caliban didn't respond. His only reaction was a quick pull on Druuna's leash, when she started to sleeze away from the heavy-chested pimp. Bedford pretended not to have noticed and went on. "So, how about you skip your plans for your new toy. Join me and my place for, say, a week or two. Sit back, relax, mebbe fuck one or two of my whores - for free of course - and let my clients have fun with that juicy slut of yours. You don't have to lift a finger; just open your palms and let the centrals drop in." Bedford's eyes fixed anxiously on Caliban's face. "What do you say?"

Caliban wrinkled his nose and scatched his chin. Again he ran his bright blue eyes over Druuna's exquisite features. Druuna shuffled uneasily at her place. She didn't like being sold at all. But the prospect of having to serve in that pervert brute's fuck place appealed even less to her. Silently pleading she made eye contact with the young trader.

"Your offer sure is an interesting one," Caliban finally said. Bedford's face brightened. "But, alas, I have to decline."

"Aw, screw that, bastard," Bedford growled. "Is my place not good enough for a fuck like you?"

"Watch your tongue, big man." Caliban's voice suddenly turned grim and menacing, with an edge that bespoke his youthful appearance. "So far I have been quite polite. As you mentioned before, I'm not a stupid brat. I realize, you're a man of some knack for business too, and I'd be a bad trader, if I wouldn't keep my eyes open for opportunities. But in this slut's case, I have my own agenda. Sorry, pal. Even if I liked your offer, I can't risk to have one of your clients damage my merchandise."

"Hmm." Beford seemed to be somewhat appeased by Caliban's explanation. The tension in his massive body slightly eased. With drooling eyes he gave Druuna one final look. Druuna shuddered at the thought of this brute laying his giant's hands on her **** body. With one grip he could probably smash her not too small tits. His mouth twitched, and he turned back to Caliban for a last attempt. "At least let me fuck the bitch once. I give you 150 bucks, if you save me one hour with her."

"Sorry, pal." Caliban declined. "As I've stated before, I need my property in good condition. I somehow doubt that would still account, if I let you have your ways with her."

"Bah," Bedford snarled. The two men eyed each other for a last time, Bedford obviously taking a final a measure of his chances to defeat the strangely confident, scarred lad. Eventually he decided, taking chances was not a good idea. With a final spit at the ground, he brashly turned away and hurried off the square.

Druuna sighed with relief. "Thank you, mister," she whispered.

"Nothing to thank me for," the young man replied, and brushed a hand through his wild auburn haid. "I wouldn't ever sell any kind of girl to an asshole like him. I pity the women in his service. I'd wager, they aren't doing that on her own free accord."

Druuna shuddered. She too had heard of hidden brothels, where women were kept as slaves to serve for the pervert greeds of the stone-hearted men. It was even rumored, that the sector squad ran such an illegal place too. Inofficially of course. Feeling much more than just justified sympathy for the poor victims of such a hellhole, she looked at the stranger, who still held the leash around his neck in his hands. "Can't you do something about that place?"

Caliban turned his head and looked at her with those haunting, blue eyes. "Girl, there are many things somebody should to something about. But alas, I'm just a businessman, and as my mother once said: 'Keep your feet in your own boots and don't try to slip into somebody else's." He tugged at Druuna's leash. "C'mon, let's vanish too. A tradesman who stays too long at one place, risks competition of a class much heavier than digestible."