She stood on the raised platform that was her current prison, the chains that bound her wrists together behind her hung with the familiar weight of captivity. Her former master had died and she wasn't announced to be left to anyone in his will. Mydra had served him mainly as a domestic servant and nothing ever really went beyond that, though she was very pretty, being one of Morucian descent, with a splendidly toned body. She doubted that the old man would have been able to perform anyway.

This was her first auction since that fateful day almost 12 years ago when she was originally captured and sold for a hefty price to the man who thought it his duty to see her in chains. The crowd was bustling with the wealthy anywhere from well-off merchants to near royalty, but they all looked like hungry dogs to her, trying to eat her up with their eyes. Mydra wasn't allowed to look at them long, the years as a slave ingrained the response to look down at her feet, so she did, tearing her eyes away from the crowd that was arguing over who would pay the most for her.

Mydra stared at her bare feet and wondered why they hadn't clothed her better to sell her off as something fancier than she was. The estate probably could have fetched a lot more for her. But before she could ponder it for too long, the auction was over and she was fated to a new master. It was a frightening prospect for this dark-haired woman with tinted skin and a slim form. Why they couldn't have just freed her didn't make any sense. But none of it made sense. You just don't question the system.

As she was being led off of the podium roughly by the hand of the estatesman, Mydra looked up and sought out the man who purchased her. A cheery fellow stepped over and handed a large sum of cash over to the estatesman who perked up and handed over her lead, probably so that he could go and count the profits. She looked this slightly plump fellow over with a quirked eyebrow. His common appearance didn't suggest that he'd be in possession in large sums of money, but it wasn't her place to think such things in the first place. Figuring that she could have done worse, Mydra followed him to the carriage without resistance.

"Oh, he should be pleased with this investment," the man declared, still smiling. Mydra let a look of confusion fall across her face, realizing that the man was more talking to himself than to her. He looked over her, dimples indenting his cheeks. "Very pleased with me. Maybe he'll reward me," he purred. The man closed his eyes, probably imagining some form of a reward, cutting Mydra off from his world and leaving her to her confusion. She'd ask herself, but even the old man that owned her previously had enforced the rules of not speaking unless one is directly questioned. Instead, Mydra glanced out the window and watched the scenery trot by with the rocking of the carriage.

The door opened next to her and the drowsy Mydra almost fell out while the man seated across from her jumped at the same sound. An assistant helped the man out, but left her to fend for herself. She shook herself off and managed to get out of the carriage, the lead connected to her collar almost knocking her off-balance. Promptly, a woman that was probably a trusted slave took the chain in her hand and led Mydra around from the main entrance of the dreary gray monolith of a building that was before them to a smaller entrance.

It opened up into a huge, dark hall that was ornately decorated despite the lack of enthusiastic lighting. Mydra had to look up just to try and get a glimpse of the designs that the ceiling displayed, but in doing that, she had started walking much slower. The woman jerked hard on her lead with a dirty look and Mydra assumed her subordinate posture watching the ground in front of her feet. She went by the pull of the woman ahead of her and by some preliminary sense that one attains after so many years of this type of treatment.

Mydra stood up straight, eyes looking out right in front of her, but glazed over in that looking-though-not-seeing type of expression as three other slaves flocked to her and undressed her from the drab, gray rags she was put in for the auction. They looked at the bits of clothing in disgust, as it was they were all dressed in stunningly white robes made of a semi-translucent material that clung to their bodies. Of course the collar was not removed; it couldn't be in all honesty. The steel had been shaped around her neck and wielded right there, leaving her with some pretty nasty burns underneath it and fusing part of the metal to her own skin. It was a gruesome thought that she really didn't like to think about.

The three led her, naked, through a door to a room with a tub filled with water and a couple more steaming urns. They dumped her all but gently into the tub, splashing water over the sides to cascade on the floor at their feet. Faces remaining passive, except for glints of mischief in their eyes, the women took the soap and washing cloths and scrubbed her hair, scraped down her skin, and all over her body. They forced her to stand up in the small tub and rinsed her down with one of the urns only to start the whole process over again. Mydra couldn't help but wince a bit at the feeling of her hide being almost torn off by the brutal attack of the other, probably more privileged, slaves. Once more, she stood up and let them rinse her off with the scalding water, but instead of letting her stand submissively as they did before, one of the women shoved her out of the tub in an act of spite and hazing.

Mydra fell on her hands and knees on the unyielding marble floor with a rush of more sudsy water with her while the women snickered and snorted as they were bound to do in the results of their malice. She pushed herself to her feet, standing up with her usual composure and looking across her body to see if there was any more permanent damage besides the temporary loss of numerous skin layers. Her tinted skin was much more red than it was before, but not as red as it would be were she as pale as some of them. At least she smelled nice now. The giggles stopped abruptly as a couple steps rang through the room with its marble floor soaked with water from the bathing issue. Mydra didn't dare look up, but stood up straighter into the posture she knew, a posture that demonstrated the respect for the person in front of her, but emphasized her subservient nature.

"What a welcome you've received." The voice had a very silky timbre that reflected much self-confidence and power in its dark tones that could probably get him whatever he wanted. Mydra didn't react as strong fingers slid across her water-slick shoulders, flicking droplets off of her skin. A hand took her chin in its grasp and forced her to look up at him with a rough snap that she wasn't quite expecting, but still she didn't react. His eyes were as dark as his voice and his face was just a perfect specimen of luscious, though arrogant, male beauty. He seemed to nod to himself when her eyes slid almost automatically downward from the eye contact he had forced upon her, but it wasn't over.

This man let go of her chin and his hands moved on either side of her neck, sliding down and across her shoulders, down her arms and in, to move up the outside of her thighs. They passed over her hips, pressing hard enough to feel any flaw and every curve across her abdomen and up her ribcage to move over her chest. He cupped a breast in each hand in a scrutinizing way to get a measure that apparently satisfied him because he nodded to himself once again and let them go. This man now went down her sides and down the curves outside of her legs, bending slightly to make the whole way to her ankles, which he moved about shoulder length apart before continuing up the insides. Though Mydra knew that this was purely an inspection, she couldn't help getting just a little excited when she felt his hands work their way up her inner thighs. Barely brushing her sex, his hands slid to the side and reached around to grasp her firm buttocks and test them the same way he'd been doing the rest of her body. Those skillful hands slid up her back and around her shoulder blades before they ceased all contact. Mydra kept in a shaking sigh of relief that it was all over, or at least so she thought. When she was just about to relax, he seemed to have an afterthought, pressing one hand up her inner thigh again to roughly, but very thoroughly, feel through her sex, his fingers prodding and groping around firmly.

She gasped a bit and he arched an eyebrow at her, soon removing his strong fingers as soon as he had felt that he'd felt enough. Mydra heard the other women making slight noises behind her and resisted glancing back at them. Mydra did risk up a look at whom she now was confident was her new master who seemed pleased. He was dressed formally, as one would assume for such a man of power, all in crisp white and black that accentuated his lean figure. A classic style without all the flourish and gaudy, metallic coloring that could be seen in lords and whores alike.

"That will do." And he turned, leaving Mydra wet, naked and shaking as she stood on a slippery marble floor with the other slaves moaning behind her. Now she did look behind her, and was taken aback at the sight of the women fingering themselves in furious masturbation, lying on the floor. Apparently, this master was very well received. The newly-acquired slave was feeling very out of place at that moment, but soon a young man, probably a eunuch if she knew anything about status within servitude, took in the scene and swiftly removed her from it.

Pulling her arm lightly, he led her through a couple side passages before flashing Mydra a brief smile.

"So I see you've met the Master," he noted in a way to try and reassure her that everything was okay. She nodded and realized that she was still shaking from the confrontation. The eunuch noticed too. "Yes, he can be a bit intimidating, but that's just who he is. All it does is make his authority stronger." Mydra thought she heard a hint of swooning appraisal in his tone, but she might have just been hearing things. "Strong and silent type?" he laughed. Mydra blinked a bit. She didn't laugh. "Okay then. Do you happen to have a name, hun?"

Mydra nodded and the young not-quite-a-man prodded further.

"Well then?"

"My last master called me 'Mydra'." He smiled, glad to get a response from the girl he was still leading around the halls of this hard, elaborate monstrosity.

"Well then, Mydra, welcome to Flaramortis, the Keep of our Master. I go by the name of Lee around here, so if you need anything, just ask for me." With that he winked and left her under the arch that was the entrance to the generic slave quarters where many collared individuals, male and female, moved about or lounged on the sparse, dirty furniture that was provided for them.