Part 4
“You have a…list,” I asked incredulously as I took another bite of what was supposed to pass for scrambled eggs.
“Yep, first thing I’m going to do is get Lacie somewhere safe, then I’m going to find my way back home and get the inheritance I am owed from my uncle and then… then I’m going to find that bastard Lenix and burn his estate to the ground, preferably with him still in it,” Bunny murmured, her voice filled with a fiery determination as she stared daggers at the food tray on her lap.
“What makes you think your uncle would cooperate now even if we somehow managed to escape?” Lacie whispered in the longest sentence I’d heard from her since we were brought here.
“If that bastard had just given what was owed to me… we wouldn’t be here. I’d finally have my own station at one of the best tattoo places in town and that bastard Dominic would have never dared to try to abduct you… or me.” Bunny’s voice was a mix of frustration and certainty as she spoke about her life before the auction.
“What about after that?” I knew in reality it was in all likelihood silly to dream of life after this place, but I couldn’t bring myself to kick Bunny’s hope to the curb. “Would you have enough to open your own shop?”
“Are you kidding? With the inheritance my parents-“Bunny was cut off mid sentence by a voice to my right.
“Pffff you guys are delusional.”
It had been two long days since we’d first been brought to this hellish resort, days that had stretched on like an eternity. The only solace we had were the whispers that passed between our cells when the patrolling guard’s heavy boots grew distant. Conversations with Lacie and Bunny had become my lifeline, sharing stories of our past lives and the twisted path that had led us to this nightmare… at least at first.
Then yesterday, the unthinkable happened. I was shocked to the core when a new figure was escorted into my cell by a guard. My heart skipped a beat when I recognized her. It was none other than the popular influencer from ‘Kink in the Chain’, known for her mesmerizing Asian features, B-cup breasts, and aqua hair with cotton candy pink tips. She had as many tattoos as Bunny but they were full of colorful stars and patterns.
I’ll admit despite not being big into social media, I’d been a bit of a fan of hers. Her name was Hana Horihitsu, she had a huge following and was known for her tutorials on submission, teaching those who were eager to learn the art of pleasing their dominant partners. Her presence here was a slap in the face to reality, even influencers weren’t safe from the clutches of the resort.
An even bigger slap was finding out how rude of a person she actually was. I’m not saying anyone who had been abducted and dragged away from their life didn’t have a right to be a bitch, but I was surprised by what lay underneath that cutesie online persona. After being dumped inside my cell without a care in the world, she had the audacity to look down on me with disdain when I’d tried to see if she was okay and introduce myself. She had barely even glanced at me before rolling her eyes and turning her back, as if I was some kind of stain on the fabric of the mattresses that made up our beds.
Her disposition didn’t improve either, after giving her some time to calm down and even offering her some of my water that I’d stashed under my mattress, she had only sneered and told me that I was a fool to trust anyone here, that we were all just commodities to be bought and sold. She had seen it happen before online, even warned fans who had told her excitedly about services and organizations that were willing to make their fantasies come true for a price, only to find themselves in the very same situation we were in now.
After that revelation, Hana had barely spoken, but her words had left a stain on our already bruised spirits. We were all too aware of the fate that awaited us, and her bitterness only served to thicken the air of dread that permeated our small space. Despite her hostility, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for her, knowing that even her online fame had failed to protect her from the fate we now shared.
A day later however our collective patience had worn thin, Hana’s constant sighs and huffs had begun to grate on our nerves. It was clear she was used to being the center of attention and didn’t handle being ignored or not being in control very well. “Excuse me?” Bunny hissed, cutting through Hana’s dramatic silence. “You got something to say uwu girl, spit it out?”
“Even after all you’ve supposedly been through you still don’t get it, do you?” Hana said, her voice dripping with disdain. She turned to face us, her eyes narrowed as she set her breakfast tray aside. “We’re all just products to them, toys to be used and discarded. These are powerful people with powerful friends, these cuffs and collars we’re wearing are proof enough of that.”
“What are you talking about?” Bunny asked, her eyes narrowed in Hana’s direction, her tone a mix of anger and confusion. “We’re not going to be here forever, we’re going to get out of this shithole and live our lives.”
“These,” Hana said gesturing to the heavy leather cuffs and collar around her neck, “are not just for show. They’re not like the ones you can get at any old kink shop. These are German made Hassenbinder. Top of the line, steel inlays. You can’t get out of these without the key or some serious hardware and I’d be willing to bet anything the collars have a GPS tracker in them. You need to accept that escape is futile, that we are owned, now and forever.”
*CLANG CLANG*
“Quiet in there!” a gruff voice from one of the patrolling guards bellowed from down the hallway, silencing our heated whispers. We collectively held our breath, waiting for the heavy footsteps to pass before continuing.
“So what, we just… give up?” I whispered, my voice losing its previous lilt. While Hana’s revelation hadn’t dissolved any notions I’d already had about our situation, her defeatist attitude was clearly affecting the others.
Looking back it was hard not to notice how Lacie had gone back to staring at the floor as if it would mercifully swallow her up. Even Bunny’s fiery gaze had dimmed, her shoulders slumped with the weight of reality. Not knowing what to do I reached over and grabbed Hana’s arm, her eyes snapped to meet mine, filled with something that resembled anger.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she spat, jerking her arm away from my grasp.
“Look,” I said, keeping my voice low but firm. “I know this is scary, and maybe there is no way out, but you’re making it worse. Breaking us down won’t lift you up, we’re all we have here, so cut the shit.”
For a moment I saw a modicum of regret flicker across Hana’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced with defiance. “Look, whatever your name is, I’m not here to be your cheerleader. Besides, it's only a matter of time before we’re sold off and never see each other again anyway so there’s no point in any of us becoming buddy-buddy.”
With that, Hana turned away, the finality in her voice leaving a bitter taste in the air. I didn’t know what I hated more: that a dark part of me that wanted what was happening to us or that there was nothing I could do to change it. Still looking back at Bunny and Lacie, I knew I didn’t like seeing them like this.
So putting my tray down I shuffled over to the bars separating us. “Look, don't listen to her,” I whispered to them, trying to keep the hope in my voice. “We’ve got each other and we’re going to-“
*CLANG CLANG CLANG*
“Attention slaves! Breakfast time is over, slide your trays through the slot in the bottom of your door!” A guard’s booming voice interrupted my attempt to bolster their spirits. The three of us begrudgingly complied, the clang of metal against metal echoing through the cell block. Personally even though there was still food on my tray, I didn’t mind since I’d lost my appetite anyway.
Hana hadn’t bothered to move so I grabbed her tray too, sliding them both out through the slot. Then I sat back down on the mattress nearest to the bars and waited for the guard wheeling a cart to collect them. Glancing at Hana, I again couldn’t help but feel a mix of pity and anger towards her. Her online persona had painted her as a bubbly, happy-go-lucky type, but here she was, cold and hard as the bars that kept us caged.
“Hana,” I began tentatively, “How did you end up here?” I genuinely wanted to understand what had happened to her, to better understand how the girl who had inspired so many was now nothing but a shell of her former self.
“What does it matter now?” Hana said, her voice a mix of anger and resentment. But she must have seen the concern in my eyes because she sighed and continued, “fine, if you really must know it happened during one of my live streams. I was playing around with some self-bondage, you know, teaching my fans how to turn themselves into a good little submissive gift for their dominants. It was all fun and games, then someone in the chat asked me to actually go through with it and show them, so I did. I didn’t think it was a big deal, I'd done it before with my tutorials, just never live.”
Dots connected in my mind as Hana recounted her disturbing experience, “What happened-“ I began to ask but she cut me off with a frustrated wave of her hand.
“I’d just finished zip tying my wrists behind my back after using rope to bind my ankles and knees together and was about to demonstrate how to place myself in a hogtie when it happened,” Hana began, her voice distant as if recounting a nightmare. “Some redheaded bitch with a creepy smile jumped out from my closet and says she’s there to fulfill my darkest fantasies. I thought it was some kind of prank, you know, a fan who had taken things too far. But then she slapped a ball-gag in my mouth and tightened it until I could barely breathe.”
From her description it sounded like Lydia had sent Cherri, the sadistic redhead we’d all encountered, to take her during her live stream. Nodding my head I waited for Hana to continue her story, her voice had grown softer, more vulnerable.
“Before I could fully process what was happening the bitch had grabbed some of my rope and pressed me into a ball, wrapping it tight around me until I couldn’t move,” Hana’s voice grew quieter, her eyes glazed over with the memory of the horror. “Then she shoved me into my own luggage, zipped me up, and wheeled me out of my own apartment. I thought for sure someone would help, but all my ‘fans’ apparently just watched with their thumbs up and smiling emoji’s. Not a single one called the cops… I know because a few hours later we stopped and just to add salt to the wound, that bitch showed me a few screenshots of the chat she’d taken after she’d carted me off,” she trailed off, her voice barely a whisper.
Suddenly Hana’s attitude made sense. The woman who had once been so confident in her submission, so in control of her online persona, had been violated in the most personal and public way possible. Her trust in her fans, in the community she’d built, had been shattered. I felt a pang of sympathy for her, despite her sharpness. We all had our breaking points, and she had clearly reached hers.
“Just… leave me alone,” Hana murmured, her voice barely audible even in the silence of the cell. Her shoulders slumped, the tough exterior she had put up crumbling under the weight of her story. I was about to reach out to her when the distant sound of high heels echoed through the hallway, growing closer. We all stiffened, knowing that the sound could only mean one thing: Lydia was coming.
“Attention ladies! The day you’ve all been waiting for is upon us!” Lydia’s voice boomed down the hallway, the clack of her stilettos growing louder with each step she took. She strutted into our line of sight, she was dressed in another posh ensemble similar to what she’d worn when we first arrived.
“Now, normally we’d wait until the afternoon and start taking you lovely ladies to our underground salon to get you all dolled up for the gala one by one,” Lydia called out, her stilettos clicking against the stone floor as she paced back and forth before our cells. Her eyes gleamed with a sadistic excitement that sent a shiver down my spine, making it clear she was relishing every moment of our torment. “But, whether you know it or not,” she gestured to the rows of caged women, “we have quite the bumper crop for this event. So, we’re going to have to start early to ensure that every single one of you is ready to be put on display.”
Her words were like a knife twisting in my gut, the reality of what was happening sinking in once again. Gala night, the moment we were all dreading, had arrived. The night we'd be dressed up like dolls and paraded before a room full of monsters looking to purchase their next plaything.
“So, since we have such a delightful variety of fresh meat for tonight’s gala, we’re going to start early,” Lydia announced with a wicked smile, her eyes scanning over us like a predator eyeing a buffet. “You’ll be taken two by two to the salon to be pampered and primped and once you’re all prepped,” she paused dramatically, her eyes lingering on each of us in turn, “you’ll be returned to your cells to sit and wait until we’re ready, when that time comes we will bring you your… festive costumes that will highlight your best features,” she said with a sneer, the sadistic glint in her eyes hinting at the horrors that lay ahead.
“Now listen up,” she continued, her voice taking on a harsher tone, “not one of you is to smudge, smear, or mess with your makeup or hair. If you do, you’ll be passed over for tonight’s main event and instead saved for the smaller auction next month. And let me tell you,” she leaned in, her voice dropping an octave, “slaves who go to that auction usually end up in places that are…” she paused for dramatic effect, “less desirable, shall we say. Like brothels to be used until they can’t even stand, and then discarded like yesterday’s trash.”
Her words hit me like a truck, the gravity of the situation crashing down upon me with a sudden clarity that stole my breath. Less desirable places, like brothels where we’d be used until we were broken… the thought was too much to bear. I had to keep my wits about me and not let the fear consume me. Looking around I saw the effect her words had on the other girls, their faces also a mix of dread and despair.
With a clap of her hands she turned to the two guards flanking her, “Start with the ones up front and work your way back!” The sound echoed through the corridor, snapping us out of our morbid contemplation. The guards didn’t waste a moment, heading back down the line of cells, unlocking the first two doors and the women inside were yanked out. They were marched off, their bare feet slapping against the cold floor.
The silence that followed was heavy and the snippets of conversation and hushed whispers amongst the girls had vanished. Each of us sat in our cells, the only sound being the occasional sniffle or shiver of fear. Looking to my left Lacie was clinging onto Bunny tightly, Bunny herself had lost most of the fight in her eyes as she stared into space, the weight of Lydia’s words clearly weighing on her. To my right, Hana was a picture of defeated resignation, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she leaned against the wall, her eyes downcast.
Hours went by at a crawl, the only sounds to be heard were the occasional cries and whimpers as more women were led away and returned from the salon. Each time a set of doors would open, the air grew thick with anticipation and dread. Eventually the progression of the guards grew closer to us. Our cells were at the end of the room so it had taken many agonizingly long hours to reach us.
Finally, it was Bunny and Lacie’s turn. My heart sank as I watched the guards approach their cell. Stoic and professional, they unlocked the door with a metallic screech that pierced the tense air. The sound was like a gunshot, final and unmistakable. They didn’t bother to speak, just gestured for them to stand with a rough jerk of their heads.
Bunny’s fiery spirit had dimmed to a flicker, but she stood tall, her shoulders squared despite the tremble in her hands. Her eyes searched mine for reassurance, and I gave her the bravest smile I could muster. Lacie, on the other hand, was a picture of defeat. She barely looked up from the floor, her eyes red and puffy from crying. The guards grabbed each of them and linked their wrists cuffs together behind their backs.
As they were led away, the weight of the situation settled heavier on my chest. The sound of their bare feet echoing down the hallway was haunting and I knew it wouldn’t be much longer until it was my turn. Leaning back against the cold cement of the cell, I took a deep breath trying to compose myself. I don’t know how much time passed before the silence was finally broken…but when it finally did I wish it hadn’t.
“How can you sit there and look so calm?” Hana’s voice was brittle, her anger opposite to the tremor in her words. “Don’t you know what’s coming?”
“Of course I know,” I said, meeting her gaze steadily. “And if you think I’m not scared, you’re wrong.”
“But you’re not acting like it,” Hana’s voice was laced with accusation.
“Believe me I’m terrified, I’m terrified for myself, for Bunny, Lacie and even for you,” I said, keeping my voice low, trying to keep the tremor out of it. “But fear won’t help me now, I have to be smart. And maybe, just maybe, if we keep our heads down and look for opportunities we can turn this whole thing around.”
“Yeah, well you know what I think,” Hana said, her voice hushed but hard as nails.
“What’s that?” I murmured.
Hana’s gaze was cold, her voice filled with a mix of anger and accusation. “I think you actually want to be here and that’s why you’re so calm. You’re probably getting off on all this,” she spat venomously.
“What!?” I gasped, unable to hold back my shock. “What makes you think that?”
“Because I heard that redheaded bitch bragging to her boss on the ride here,” Hana hissed, her voice full of spite. “Apparently, I was easier to catch than ‘the dumb brunette’ who practically ‘gift-wrapped’ herself at some BDSM nightclub.”
I was stunned by Hana’s accusation, I mean it was true I’d had fantasies, but none of them included being kidnapped and sold like a piece of meat… or at least not like this. Her words had hit a nerve, but I couldn’t let her see how much she had gotten under my skin.
“You don’t know anything about me,” I murmured, my voice even.
“Oh yeah? Then why were you clenching your thighs so hard when that big boss lady was giving that little speech?” Hana shot back, her voice full of spite. “You’re probably hoping to get picked by some rich sadist who’ll make you their personal plaything,” she continued, her voice filled with malice.
“For your information I already had a master!” I hissed through gritted teeth, turning to face Hana with a fiery look in my eyes. “I was in control, it was consensual. This,” I gestured around the cell, “is not what I wanted.”
Hana looked taken aback by my sudden outburst, the anger in her eyes fading to something closer to regret. She took a deep breath before speaking again, “You did… but why did you react to Lydia that way then?”
“I couldn’t help myself okay, I don’t even remember doing it,” I admitted, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. Given our little session the other night, I had felt a strange connection to Lydia, one that I couldn’t explain or justify. “My body was probably reacting subconsciously to… to what happened the other night,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
“What happened the other night?” Hana’s voice was softer now, curiosity mixing with accusation.
I explained how the night I arrived, Lydia had had a guard take me from my cell in the middle of the night, brought me to the playroom and had her way with me. How it had been easier to just give in than to fight, how she’d made me feel something I didn’t want to feel, something that was definitely not fear or pain. Hana’s eyes grew wide as I recounted the details, the way Lydia had used the strap-on on me after she forced me to eat her out, how she had made me come harder than I ever had in my life, even though it was all against my will.
“Well… I guess that at least explains-“ Hana stopped talking as the distant sound of a door opening interrupted us. The sound of a set of boots accompanying a pair of bare feet soon grew, and eventually the guards reappeared with Bunny and Lacie in tow.
I couldn’t help my jaw from dropping when Bunny and Lacie were escorted back into the cell. They looked nothing like the terrified, disheveled girls who’d been dragged out maybe under an hour ago. Now, they looked like they’d been plucked from the pages of a high-fashion magazine. Lacie, with her voluptuous curves and fiery hair, was transformed into a living version of Jessica Rabbit, sans the costume of course. Her makeup was flawless, with bold red lipstick that matched the fiery hue of her hair, and her eyes lined with purple and blue shadow that made them pop like gemstones. Her skin had been pampered to a dewy glow that seemed almost unnatural under the harsh lights of the cell.
Bunny was no less impressive, with a dramatic smokey eye makeup that accentuated the fiery spark in her gaze. Her black wild hair had been tamed into glossy, straight locks that cascaded over her bare shoulders, and her lips looked like they’d had plumper applied to them and had been painted with a bold shade of ruby red. Both of them had been transformed into living, breathing works of art, their natural beauty heightened and honed into something that could make even the most stoic of men quiver with desire.
Even Hana couldn’t help but let out a small “damn” under her breath. Once the door was locked again, the guards turned to the next cell and pulled out the two blondes who had remained eerily silent since our arrival. I was surprised to see that they were twins, and as they walked past us, their matching blue eyes remained downcast and their expressions were as empty as their voices had been.
Turning to Bunny and Lacie who were now sitting back down on the mattresses, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of admiration and envy. They looked like goddesses, but it was the fear in their eyes that brought me back to reality. Their makeover was for the benefit of their future buyers, not for themselves.
“I’m sure this won’t make you guys feel any better, but you both look… incredible,” I murmured, trying to force a smile onto my lips as the reality of the situation crashed back down on me.
“You’re right that doesn’t make us feel any better… but thanks for saying it,” Bunny replied, her voice barely a whisper. Her fiery spirit had been doused, but the spark hadn’t gone out completely.
Lacie just nodded by way of acknowledgment, her eyes darting to the floor as if she couldn’t stand to look at herself. The sight of them, so beautiful and yet so broken, was almost too much to handle. But with the two girls I now knew were twins being taken away, the reality of our situation slammed back into me like a fist to the gut. We were next.
I turned back to Hana to maybe finish our conversation from before but she had turned her back to us, her posture stiff and her jaw clenched. Clearly, she was not in the mood to talk. The minutes ticked by like hours, each second heavier than the last until finally the guards approached our cell. The twins had had their hair transformed into shiny pigtails and their makeup was done in a way that made them look like teenage schoolgirls. An innocence that didn’t coincide with their leather restraints and nudity.
As their cell door slammed shut and the two guards turned to ours, my heart thundered in my chest. “On your feet and face the wall,” one barked, his gruffness cutting through the heavy silence. We complied without protest, the cold concrete biting into my bare skin as I pressed against it while a guard wrenched my arms behind my back. The D-rings of my wrist cuffs jingled as I felt a padlock snap into place, securing my wrists behind my back.
Strong hands gripped me by my left arm and yanked me towards the door of the cell, the thick leather biting into my skin as I stumbled along next to the guard. My legs were shaking, and it took every ounce of effort not to collapse to the floor. The other guard took Hana by her arm, and we were led down the corridor, passing by other cells filled with women who all looked as glammed up as Bunny and Lacie.
One in particular in one of the middle cells caught my eye and I nearly stumbled in surprise. She was a stunning strawberry blonde, her entire body painted in a shimmering gold, reminiscent of the iconic scene from the old James Bond movie, “Goldfinger”. Her hair had been swept up into an elegant chignon, and her makeup was as dramatic as the color of the gold that coated her skin.
A quick tug on my arm from the guard brought me back to the present, we made our way past the last of the cells and back out into a long empty hallway. The walk to our destination was shorter than it had been to the playroom I’d been taken to, but it felt like an eternity as the anticipation of what was to come built in the pit of my stomach.
Eventually we stopped in front of an opened door and were pushed through into a space that was a contrast to the harsh, prison cells we’d been kept in. The walls were painted a soft, pastel pink, and it was definitely a salon of some sort, but not the kind you’d find in a high-end spa. The air was thick with the smells of hairspray and nail polish.
There were only two styling stations set up in the underground salon, there were four stylists waiting for us and each looked like they’d been plucked from the pages of a high-fashion magazine, each one embodying a different archetype of beauty: the sleek blonde, the fiery redhead, the mysterious brunette, and, to my shock, Lydia herself. She had traded her usual business attire for an apron and she looked as impatient and annoyed as the first evening we’d arrived.
“You two get a move on, we’re running behind here and I still need to get ready myself so if you don’t wanna end up a part of the meat auction I mentioned you better get your asses in those tubs,” Lydia snapped, pointing at a pair of steaming tubs behind the styling stations with a look that could make a saint sweat.
The guards let go of our arms and removed our leather restraints before giving each of us a small shove toward the tubs. The water was scalding hot, but the cold air of the room made it feel almost comforting. Hana and I climbed in, the warmth enveloping us, and the bubbles popping around us did nothing to ease the tension in our shoulders. The stylists approached us with brisk efficiency, not a hint of pity or empathy in their eyes.
It may have resembled a spa, but the efficiency and speed in which we were treated made it clear that this was no pampering session. The stylists worked with cold precision, scrubbing us down and rinsing us off without so much as a whisper of concern for our comfort. They were clearly used to working under Lydia’s watchful gaze, moving with a swiftness that bordered on brutal.
Lydia herself helped the blonde in scrubbing every inch of my body clean while the redhead and brunette tended to Hana. Her hands were firm and unforgiving as she worked the soap into my skin, her nails digging in slightly, a silent reminder of who was in charge here. I bit my lip to stifle any noise, knowing better than to complain. The blonde washed my hair with a shampoo that smelled faintly of berry and something else, something that made me feel strangely… aroused. The sensation was unwelcome, but my body seemed to have a mind of its own around Lydia after that first night.
Soon as we had finished being scrubbed, buffed, dried and lotioned we were then directed to the styling stations where the transformation would be completed. The blonde set to drying and straightening my hair while the brunette began to work on Hana’s. Lydia meanwhile set to painting my nails both hands and feet with a glittery gold lacquer that shimmered in the light.
In the mirror I watched as Hana had her hair pulled into two high pigtails with two red ball berets, the look was eerily similar to the iconic hairstyle of a popular anime girl. She looked so small sitting there, naked and vulnerable, with her hair pulled into those high, cheerful pigtails. The stylist didn’t bother with pleasantries, she worked with the precision of a machine, twisting and securing Hana’s hair with an air of indifference.
Once my nails were dry and gleaming, Lydia turned her attention to my face, her eyes scrutinizing every feature with a critical eye. She began by applying a thick line of dark black eyeliner, tracing the delicate curve of my eyes with the precision of an artist. Gripping my face firmly in place, she smudged the line into a dramatic wing that extended almost to my temples. Each stroke sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of fear and something else, something that felt eerily like excitement.
Next, she applied a glittery gold eyeshadow, using a soft brush to sweep the shimmering pigment across my lids. The metallic sheen caught the light and made my eyes pop like those of an Egyptian goddess. Finished with my eyes, Lydia turned her attention to my lips, a sadistic smile playing on hers as she took out a plumping gloss. She coated my bottom lip with the clear gel before pressing it together with my top lip, making it swell slightly. The sensation was strange and a bit painful, but the result was undeniably alluring. With a final flourish, she painted my lips in a glossy gold to match the rest of my makeup.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me. The makeup was bolder than anything I’d ever worn before, the gold and black standing out against my skin. The blonde had just finished straightening my hair as Lydia stood while scrutinizing her handiwork with a critical eye, her expression a mix of pride and satisfaction.
Her eyes flicked to the mirror and my eyes followed her line of sight and my own eyes widened at the sight of Hana. If I thought she looked like an anime character before, she was now a walking, breathing manga heroine. The hot pink eyeliner she had been given was so thick and dramatic it looked like it could cut glass. Her eyes had been painted with a vibrant cyan eyeshadow that made them pop like neon lights in the night. Her lips were a bright pink that was almost a caricature of innocence, but on her, it just added to the whole effect. She had also been given a glittery foundation that sparkled like stardust in the light.
To top everything off, the stylist had applied a few small glittery fake star tattoos under Hana’s eyes, which danced like neon stars when she blinked. She was the quintessential uwu girl, a look that seemed so out of place in the underground slave market we had been thrust into. Despite the absurdity of the situation, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the way the makeup made her look so… desirable.
I of course knew I and every woman back in their cells looked like a walking billboard for depravity, but something about Hana’s makeover was particularly jarring. With her hair and her makeup, she looked like a character plucked straight out of a manga fantasy. Even the gold painted woman wouldn’t draw as much attention as Hana would.
“Perfection,” Lydia said before snapping her fingers. The guards approached with our cuffs and collars, or at least they’d brought mine. As they reached for Hana, she was presented with a set that matched her new anime-inspired look: pink and cyan, the same colors as her makeup. They were the same build as mine, but with a glaring difference in color scheme that made me feel like we were part of some twisted cosplay. It was clear, if Lydia had had these custom ordered, she had been planning to acquire Hana for quite a while.
With trembling hands, I allowed myself to be secured once again. The cool heavy leather of the cuffs and collar were as familiar as my own skin at this point. The click of the locks echoing through the salon sounding louder in the shadow of the evening ahead. With our restraints in place once again we were quickly guided back to our cell.
As we approached our cells I got to experience the same look of shock that must have been on my face when Bunny and Lacie spotted Hana and myself. Bunny’s mouth hung open and even Lacie’s deadpan expression had a hint of surprise in it. Our wrists cuffs were unlocked, the door to our cell opened and we were pushed back in. The guards left us without a word, locking the door behind us with a final, echoing clank.
With nothing to do but wait I silently sat back down on the mattress, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. Time was running out and soon we’d be paraded in front of a room full of rich, depraved individuals looking to buy us like cattle. Hana remained silent as she sat down next to me rather than her own mattress, her posture tense and her eyes glued to the floor.
To my surprise she leaned against me as she stared straight ahead, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” she whispered, “I’m just… scared.”
“It’s okay, I’m scared too,” with that we waited for what came next.
Turns out we wouldn’t have to wait long for the next phase of our degradation. Five minutes after we were thrown back into the cell, the door at the end of the corridor creaked open again, and the sound of wheels squeaking against the stone floor sounded. Our heads snapped up in unison and we could just make out racks of costumes being rolled in and the sound of three pairs of heels that accompanied it as the stylists from earlier along with a number of guards followed behind.
Looked like it was showtime.