Classical music wafted softly in the great hall as the next sale was prepared.

I glanced at the crowd as Danyyl expounded on his latest sex-tourism romp dirtside. Thankfully his wife was off mingling, or I’d be forced to endure lengthy descriptions of the wicked sexual tortures she makes the locals endure for a handful of credits. I’d been down among the peasants too often to know that eventually the thrills or the couple’s luck would run out. Trips to the countryside beneath our fair city could be fatal. Danyyl’s wife would probably naively dream up a sort of kink in being captured and held by mudboys.

Number Five was ushered out with her hands behind her back, the Binds on each wrist secured to each other. She looked flustered, almost confused. Another woman, an auction-house domestic guided her by an arm to the center of the low open stage. The domestic smiled, curtseyed and waved an arm presenting the next item for auction. Five was then left alone on the stage looking almost frightened. An odd expression for a dirtsider, their lives were so rough and miserable that they were usually overwhelmed with the opulence of Skye.

She was a little rabbit on stage practically shivering in her spaghetti strap white bodycon, simple auction garb. It covered the basics, chest to groin, but left a lot of skin bare for assessment. I was certain the near-translucent material was also not helping her modesty. The way she kept shrugging suggested she was trying to cover herself with her arms bound behind her. It was odd, most domestics were eager to show their wares off in order to fetch a good price. A portion of the auction sale was added to the domestic’s final contract pay. This one acted as if she were unaware of that fact.

“Item number five,” a soft masculine voice cooed through the hall. “Dirtsider from Normerica. Port of Ciiattel. Age 22. No previous contract. Bidding to start at ten thousand.”

Five wrenched her eyes shut and practically gulped. She knew what was coming. The straps and sides of the garment gave way, the body of the garment fluttering to the stage below. Even though it looked as if she wanted to, there was no way to flee. The Binds on her ankles kept her locked magnetically in place. When she began hunching a pair of domestics wearing smiles walked out and helped her remain upright. Five looked imploringly at each but both ignored her smiling for the audience as they held her in place. Her skin turned a delicious shade of crimson. It was at that moment that I realized I wanted her, must have her.

There was some chuckling in the crowd, for those who’d even noticed. Five’s demeanor was quaint. She ought to be grateful to be lifted from the filth below and allowed to even glance upon Skye. Even as a domestic.

A few hands in the audience waved and the ghost of the auctioneer announced each with an increase in price.

I lifted my hand, as the bid hit twenty thousand. I’d been watching the bidders, calculating, strategizing. Several of them were wealthier, if pushed they could easily outbid me. My late entry into the game raised a few eyebrows. My reputation proceeded me, a few of the bidders knowing I’d been without a domestic decided to back off.

When the bidding began again in earnest, I became more aggressive, countering every other bid immediately. My wife cocked an eyebrow at me from across the room, then took another look at Five. A few patrons allowed the bidding to continue without them quietly bowing out. It came down to a handful of us wanting for one reason or another to take Five home.

Watching the other bidders, I determined that the vu-Hppnrs would drop out quickly, I knew they only needed a domestic with admin skills. The price for this one would outpace their budget quickly. Another competitor, ar-Bizzon always bid competitively but never followed through to completion, he’d be out soon enough. That left ar-Ribban, I knew he was looking for a third concubine, and he could afford whatever I bid. On the other hand, he was quite shrewd and knew how seriously I’d been bidding, he understood I meant to have this one.

The price continued to climb until it was just me and ar-Ribban. He looked over to me and raised a champagne flute. I nodded. It was done. Before the auctioneer could confirm, I knew she was mine. And that I would owe ar-Ribban a favor.

An attendant arrived soon afterward asking how I would like my domestic delivered.

“Go ahead and put her back in auction garb. I’ll take her with me at the end of the evening.”

The domestic scanned my Remote, transferred funds, and Five was mine.