The market scene unfolds

The auditorium fell into an expectant silence as Sabrina remained at the center of the stage—a statue of trembling flesh with the "VILIS - DEFECTUS" sign rhythmically hitting her bare chest. The annihilation of her will was so complete that she no longer even tried to cover herself; her arms hung limp at her sides, offering her body to the implacable glare of the spotlights.

"—Behold this piece!" Josh bellowed, circling Sabrina with the confidence of an owner. "Branded by the law so that no one forgets her nature as an object."

Josh stepped closer and, to demonstrate the "quality" of the merchandise, placed both hands over Sabrina's breasts. It wasn't an accidental brush, but a blunt and public inspection. His fingers squeezed and molded the flesh with an evaluative coldness, like someone examining a product on a counter, while he commented on its firmness to Laura. Sabrina held back a gasp, feeling her nipples harden from the cold and the horror under the pressure of those fingers that only sought to demonstrate dominance.

"—Defective?" Laura intervened, stepping closer to join the exploration. "Let me see if the attributes match the price."

Laura brushed Josh's hand aside and took Sabrina's breast herself, using her ringed fingers to press and compare the texture of the skin. Sabrina closed her eyes tightly, but she could not escape the scrutiny. The humiliation escalated when Josh, emboldened by Mr. Miller’s approving silence, decided to show the "final seal" of ownership.

With a fluid motion, Josh slid his hand down Sabrina's belly until he wedged it directly between her legs. His palm pressed firmly against her sex, covering it completely and pushing the lips against the pubic bone, right over the first SPQR mark. It was a gesture of total possession that reduced Sabrina's intimacy to a data point in a commercial transaction.

"—Here is the authentic brand," Josh declared, keeping his hand pressed against Sabrina's sex while the other returned to squeeze her breast. "She is a collector's item, ready for the lowest service."

Sabrina let her head fall forward, tears running silently down her cheeks while the "Defective" sign swayed over her handled torso. There was no longer any difference between the play and her life: she was, in the eyes of everyone, a res branded and possessed on the stage.