Property of Prime Servitude Rentals

I gave one last quick glance at my friends. Delores was still smiling and waving at me warmly as if she hadn't a clue as to what was happening but the rest of my friends looked horrified and saddened. Denise was crying with her head in her hands, while a couple of the men couldn't look at me at all.

I was now a slave in every way that a woman could be enslaved. I'd been repo'd, stripped, shackled, titled, tattooed, processed, tagged, publicly humiliated, and sold. And now, I even had a mistress. For the next 75 months, I belonged to Edith Wagner. She owned me and would use me as she wished. She could strip me, beat me, cage me, chain me, force me to perform fetishes, work me all hours of the day and night, use me in pornography, resell me to Asian skinners, or even wetback me if she pleased and I'd be helpless to resist to any of it. I was Edith's property.

Feeling frightened, defenseless, and alone, I took a moment for the enormity of my wretched plight to sink in before a monger helped me off the auction block. I needed the help. I'd been spun around so many times that I was dizzy and the shock of actually being sold as a slave was numbing.

Barely able to walk, I was taken to a back room, dressed in a white slave smock, and my steel handcuffs were replaced with the plastic zip-ties as a female monger finished my titling and registration of the sale before checking to see if Ms. Wagner's bank had wired the payment for me. The female monger checked her screen against my sale price and nodded her head yes to the monger holding me.

"Payment just came through, she's ready to ship – Loading area seven."

The barcode on the back of my neck was scanned and a cardstock tag was printed, tied onto a cotton string, and hung around my neck declaring me as "SOLD – PROPERTY OF PRIME SERVITUDE RENTALS AND LEASES, INC. – SALE REGISTRATION NO. 051631-2248-147". I was led out of the office, down the hall, to loading area number seven where a cargo van modified for slave transport was waiting. Stunned and despondent, I walked to the van with my head down and shoulders slumped as if I were walking to the gallows.

"KRISTEN!" A familiar voice yelled.

"NICKY!" I cried out as I looked up to see Nicky already in strapped to a seat in the van. Tears ran down my cheeks as the monger loaded me in the van and strapped me beside Nicky. "Oh my God, I thought I'd lost you."

As we were handcuffed and strapped in, we couldn't hug but Nicky reached her foot across and squeezed my big toe with her toes. I wept uncontrollably with tears of joy. As I looked up, I could see tears streaming down Nicky's face as well.

"I've missed you, I've missed you so much," I sobbed.

"I've missed you too." Nicky smiled; her voice was calm and soothing.

I cried.

"It's going to be alright," Nicky said. "Now that I know we'll be together, it'll be alright. We'll get through this. Together, I know I'll be able to take whatever comes."

I wanted to say something to Nicky but I was too choked up. Strapped to my seat, all I could do is squeeze her foot between my feet and try to regain control of myself. The monger slammed the doors shut, slapped the side of the van twice, and the van pulled away. I felt happy, even elated. Although I was strapped in the back of a van being hauled into slavery, at least I still had Nicky and, at the moment, that was all that mattered.