Dear Reader,
Fair warning and full disclosure. This chapter contains a lewd and sexually explicit scene. I had to think long and hard about even publishing it, because unlike the scene with Yumichika and Mendalo in the snow - which had some element of genuine attraction in it - this scene is perverse. And I am basing the entire slave concept and the depravity of the lower east tangentally on the book Maia. I'd say "enjoy", but I'm not sure if that's the right word . . . Peace, TK
Chapter 10 The Highest Bidder
"No surprise that you want to be the one."
No Surprise
Graeme Edge
This was worse than he had been expecting.
Of course, Yumichika had had no clear idea of what he would encounter once the Hamasho made port in Gonow, but he certainly was not expecting this.
The dock where the Hamasho had put in abutted a sprawling wharf. When Yumichika, chained at the ankles and bound at the wrists, with only enough slack to carry Sweetie in his arms, emerged from the Hamasho, he stopped in awe at the sight before him.
This port was easily twenty to thirty times the size of Eastern Passage, stretching away up and down the coast, as well as inland beyond sight. Low buildings, many looking one strong wind gust away from collapse, lined the far side of the wharf. There were people everywhere. And from the looks of if, most of them were slaves.
The sheer volume of human cargo was overwhelming. The din from the crowds, deafening.
Rolovan had disappeared to claim the rest of Savo's procurements. Savo, himself, had stayed with Yumichika.
"It's a bit of a walk to the auction houses," Savo announced. He was fastening a length of sturdy chain to one of the iron cuffs around Yumichika's ankles. "And it appears my fellow slavers have brought in a good crop. Heavens, but it's crowded. Oh! These blasted chains! Rolovan is so much better with these things than I am . . . "
"I'm not going to try and run away," Yumichika informed him.
"Oh, I'm sure of that," Savo replied. "But when we start heading through that crowd, I'm not going to take any chances that some other slaver won't try to steal you. Look how chaotic it is. Honestly, when will they figure out how to better organize this place? Well, let's get going."
Yumichika was inclined to be obedient, for no other reason than he still had Sweetie. That seemed indication, at least for the moment, that Savo had decided to take him up on his offer. Now, he just had to deliver on his own end.
And the one thing Yumichika had never doubted was his sexual attractiveness. Even without Ruri'iro Kujaku's erotic underpinnings, even with the disappearance of his own seductive reiatsu, he knew he was desirable in ways other souls could only dream of. He was beautiful and still in possession of all his natural gifts – gifts he had not made use of since . . .
He was about to say it had been decades, maybe centuries. But that was not true.
For the past thirty-three years, he had lavished those gifts on Ikkaku daily, as much as Ikkaku could bear, given the circumstances of their relationship. But in giving to Ikkaku, Yumichika had not considered himself to be a bestower of gifts. With Ikkaku, it was simply the way things were meant to be. Caring for and loving Ikkaku, wanting to do everything possible to make him happy . . . these were not things done as gifts. They flowed freely without thought, without trigger.
But now they would come forth as the products of calculation and necessity, for the one thing Yumichika intended now was to survive. He must survive in order to escape or be rescued. Whatever weapons he had in his arsenal would be brought to bear.
His own thoughts amazed him, for he was truly in a despicable situation. He knew it was not optimism that filled his brain. It was simply pragmatism. And if his realistic perception of events bolstered his courage, that was certainly preferable to the alternative of despair and despondency.
He had seen enough of that on the Hamasho . . . and he was seeing more of it now.
Savo had placed him in front and was simply using him as a plow to push through the crowd. Savo kept a firm hold on his shoulders, and every now and then he would feel the tug of the ankle chain and start to trip, but the mob was so crammed, that he could not have fallen over even if he'd fainted.
"Do you see that wooden tower over there?!" Savo shouted over the din. "The green one with the gold ball on top . . . head towards that."
Yumichika did as he was told, although the tower jumped in and out of sight among the heads of taller people, making it hard to keep on a straight path. Sweetie, with her tiny legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, seemed fascinated by the crowd and even laughed a few times when Yumichika almost took a tumble here and there.
After nearly twenty minutes of fighting their way through the throngs, they came to the seaward-facing front row of wharf buildings and the roads and alleyways that led away from the docks into the hinter port.
Savo directed Yumichika into one of the narrower alleys, and immediately the crowd and noise were left behind. They followed the alley through at least half a dozen turns, crossing a wider thoroughfare along which groups of slaves were being herded like cattle. On the other side of the thoroughfare, they continued on in a passageway once again, passing fewer and fewer people, and with only a thin trickle of fellow walkers ahead or behind them.
At one point, they passed on the left a wide open space, and here Yumichika stopped, despite himself. There was a raised wooden platform in the center a dusty square, and on top of the platform were men – a dozen or maybe more. They were completely naked. Ropes looped through their chained wrists ran over a thick wooden pole, set horizontal above their heads. Each rope had been drawn just enough to raise the men's arms and draw them bodily up off the platform until their toes barely touched the floor. Around them milled a formidable crowd, performing what could only be described as an inspection, with more waiting their turn to come up and have a look at the merchandise.
The slaves were poked and prodded in their most private parts. Their mouths were forced open for dental inspections. Examiners' hands felt over muscle and flab. It was horrendous, yet for Yumichika perversely compelling . . .
A memory floated up unbidden in his mind.
He lay on the ground outside his machiya as they raped him over and over again. There, in front of each other. Cheering each other on. Laughing. Crowing their triumph. His torture . . . a spectator event.
Just like this . . . a spectator event.
"What . . . what . . . " he whispered, staring in rapt attention at the scene before him.
"Oh, you needn't worry about that," Savo said carelessly. "That won't happen to you. You're going to a closed auction for only the wealthiest bidders. There'll be none of that." Savo gave him a gentle shove. "Stop lingering. Come now, we still have a walk ahead of us."
They passed several more auctions, all conducted in much the same manner. Men, women, children. No one was spared the humiliating spectacle. Yumichika found himself unconsciously tightening his hold on Sweetie.
They came at last to the end of the close-clustered structures and emerged into an area much more open, and this was when Yumichika first realized that Gonow was a city on the edge of a vast desert. The port, directly behind him, was not even a pinprick on the metropolis that loomed to his left, reaching inland for miles. To his right, the low buildings gave way to the desert conditions that prevailed the further one moved from the water. Straight ahead was a cluster of fifteen or so warehouses made from earth and wood. They were white-washed and clean-looking, maintained in much better condition than structures closer to the sea.
From other feeder roads, a steady stream of slavers were making their way to the warehouses, their merchandise in tow.
There was a low wall—low enough for sitting—surrounding the warehouses, and here Savo took a moment.
"So, what is it you intend to do to double my money?" he asked. "Tell me now, because this is where I decide whether she goes with you or not."
Yumichika set Sweetie down and she promptly scurried off to chase some small desert lizards that had been sunning themselves further down the wall.
"What will be it be like in there?" Yumichika asked. "That will help me figure out the best way to do it."
"The auction hall where I'll be taking you will only have twenty bidders, tops," Savo replied. "They represent the households of the wealthiest, most powerful men and women in the lower east. The auction house has a couple physicians, and one of them will inspect you first in private. Then each acquisition goes individually in front of the group, and there is a brief period for the buyers to come up and get a closer look or inspect the acquisition. Then bidding begins."
"What sort of things does the physician look at?" Yumichika asked.
Savo barked a short laugh. "Well, given you're going to be sold as entertainment, they certainly look to make sure you have no . . . visible disease in that area."
"What else?"
"I don't know. The usual, I suppose. Are your limbs solid? Is your breathing steady? Are you lame? Do you have dental problems? Boils? Festers? I don't know. I don't hang out to watch every examination."
"That's where we'll start," Yumichika said, setting his jaw and pushing his own aversion down.
"What? Start where?"
"Convince the physician to examine me in front of the buyers."
Savo was too stunned for words. He sat in gawking silence for several seconds, then at last, he asked in a voice trembling with nervous humor, "You want the physician to examine you in front of the buyers?"
"Can you do it?"
"W-well . . . it is an unusual request," Savo replied. "I don't . . . I don't know if—if –"
"If he's resistant to the idea, offer to pay him," Yumichika said. "Offer to pay him something that will make him change his mind."
Suddenly, in Savo's eyes, Yumichika underwent an amazing transformation. Gone was the dour, wilting victim of the slave trade, bemoaning his cruel fate. In its stead was a schemer, a plotter, a master manipulator. And for the first time, the slaver believed that his prize piece of merchandise just might be able to deliver on his promise . . . and then some.
"I take it I'll be naked through this whole thing," Yumichika said matter-of-factly, and indeed, he was bemused at just how quickly old ways of life came bubbling back to the surface. If he hadn't known any better, he might have imagined that a tiny spark inside him flickered with the light of his past abilities.
"Well, of course, if he examines you in front of everyone," Savo replied, warming up to the plan that was coming together. "But otherwise, no, it's not always required. Some buyers will take merchandise without much inspection. It all depends on the purpose of the purchase."
"The purpose? I thought you said I was being sold for entertainment—"
"Yes, but there's a world of difference between entertaining the house servants or the house guards to keep them happy, and serving the master or mistress of a house," Savo replied. "And there's an even greater difference with the elite bed-mates."
"Elite bed-mates? Who are they?"
"It's a common practice that when a lord wishes to show off his finest, he makes them available to the lords and honored individuals from other homes. At a price, of course," Savo explained. "And beauty isn't enough to warrant being an elite. You have to be able to perform."
"That won't be a problem," Yumichika said dismissively. His thoughts were already three steps ahead.
"My, my, but you're a very confident fellow, aren't you?" Savo noted with a wry grin. "I would never have guessed it, but maybe I should have, given your little adventure on the ship. I'm glad to see you're finally taking well to your new circumstances."
"I do what I must to survive," Yumichika said.
"Including risking it all for a child?" Savo eyed him carefully. "That seems very mule-headed of you."
"It's your fault," Yumichika sniffed. "You're the one who brought her up to the room and put me in charge of her. Blame yourself if I've grown attached." He paused. "But I—I don't want her to see what goes on during the bidding. You'll have to find a way to take her outside."
Now, Savo was even more intrigued. "So, what other tricks do you have up your sleeve to increase the bidding?"
"No tricks," Yumichika replied. "I won't have to do much at all. People love to look at me, and . . . I'll make sure the looking is worth their while."
" . . . and he said Savo always goes to a place called Gonow on a ship named The Hamasho. He said it set sail about three weeks ago."
Hanataro finished giving his report.
"And he's sure it was Yumichika?" Rangiku asked.
"Well, the man he described sounded like Fifth Seat—er, Ayasegawa-san," Hanataro replied.
Ikkaku was thoughtful. "Three weeks ago. That's—" He stopped as Jubal joined them. "Did you find out anything?"
"I ran into a number of sailors who remembered seeing a man who fit Ayasegawa's description," he replied. "He was in the possession of a slaver named Savo, who went out three weeks ago en route to Gonow on The Hamasho."
Ikkaku felt hope plucking at his insides. "Hanataro heard the same information. Do you know this man Savo?"
"Very well," Jubal answered. "He's one of the wealthiest slavers out there. He deals more in . . .quality than quantity. Well—no, no, that's not exactly right. He deals with . . . specialized requests."
"Specialized requests?" Fourth Seat Pelqua inquired.
"Some buyers are looking for something very specific," Jubal explained. "Some want all brawn and no brains. Some want only beautiful women. Some want children. Some want only beautiful men. There's a type of slave for every category of labor." He paused and was hesitant on his addendum. "Including the sex industry."
It was clear that the only reason he had added this statement was because he felt that was the most likely use to which Yumichika would be put.
And none of the others could disagree.
Jubal went on. "He won't hurt Ayasegawa. He makes his bread and butter by delivering healthy, intact merchandise. And it's a sure bet that Ayasegawa will bring in a lot of money. He won't be sold to one of the common sex houses. He'll be going to a private residence."
"How many days will it take to get over there by ship?" Ikkaku asked.
"Three to four weeks, depending on the weather," Jubal replied.
"Can everyone flashstep over the sea?"
Hanataro looked down shame-facedly.
"Yamada?" Ikkaku grimaced.
"I'm sorry, Sir," Hanataro apologized. "I think—I think someone will have to carry me—"
"It's better to go on a ship," Jubal interjected.
"How's that?" Ikkaku asked doubtfully. "That's three or four weeks delay, when we could be over there in a matter of hours, searching."
"We all need to become familiar with the lay of the land, so to speak," Jubal replied. "Don't forget, our spirit energy will be nullified over there because of the bedrock of seki-seki. And our ability to use shunpo will be gone. In fact, you'll start to notice it weakening even while we're still a day or two out of port. And once we're there, we'll need to plan a way to get back out – with Ayasegawa. And we'll have to do it on foot. We need to get a feel for the port and the surrounding area. Besides, there may be a chance The Hamasho hasn't even arrived in port yet. Three to four weeks, remember? But most important, you don't want to attempt a rescue while Ayasegawa is still in the hands of the slavers."
"Why not?" Pelqua asked.
"Because there are just too many moving pieces," Jubal replied. "There are hundreds of auction houses, and Savo has been known to visit all of them at one time or other to sell his merchandise. If Savo even remotely suspects someone is trying to steal his prize, he'll find a way to disappear and bide his time. Believe me, knowing him, I'm sure he's already taking every precaution and being hyper-vigilant. You may start off trying to steal Ayasegawa and end up getting him killed. It will be easier to get him out of a private residence than whisk him away from the auction houses. We should go over by ship and approach this methodically."
"While Yumichika is being offered up as some sex slave?" Ikkaku shook his head, memories of Mito floating up in his mind. "No, I'm not willing to wait. We leave in the morning. Flashstep."
"Ikkaku, we don't want to be hasty," Matsumoto warned.
Ikkaku looked at her with fire smoldering in his eyes. "You know why I don't want to wait. I'm sure you haven't forgotten everything I told you."
Rangiku looked back at him in silent comprehension. She had never forgotten the story Ikkaku had told at Yumichika's bedside as he'd lain dying. And she understood why Ikkaku would not want Yumichika to be subjected to even one more second of perversity than he'd already suffered in his life. Forcing him now to restrain himself might be asking too much.
"We can go," she agreed. "We can use flashstep. But Ikkaku, for Yumichika's sake, let's not push so far ahead that we outrun ourselves. He's got a good head on his shoulders. He'll be able to hold on until we can get him out safely."
Ikkaku glanced at Jubal who confirmed, "His value alone will prevent anyone from doing something stupid with him."
"Alright, then. We'll go by ship," Ikkaku agreed reluctantly. "Jubal, find us passage. I want to be out of here as soon as possible."
Now, if only he could reign in his own impatience.
"You want me to examine him in front of the bidders?" The physician shook his head and went back to the slave he was currently examining in preparation for the opening auction, scheduled to begin in an hour. "Savo, you've lost your mind."
"Maybe, but indulge me," Savor replied.
"When did you start taking an interest in humiliating your slaves in front of the bidders?" the physician asked without stopping what he was doing.
"It wasn't my idea," Savo replied. "It was his."
"No, I'm not going to do it. How perverse can a man be?"
"I'll pay you a thousand dema," Savo pressed.
"Ha! You don't expect him to bring you much, do you?" the physician said caustically.
"Three thousand dema."
Now the physician looked up askance. "Make it ten thousand and we'll talk."
"If I make it twelve, can we skip talking and you'll just agree to do it?" Savo grinned.
The physician straightened up and waved off the man he had just been examining, who was taken away by his trader. "Where is this precious cherry you're willing to put on display . . . " His voice trailed off as he took in the sight of Yumichika, standing demurely behind Savo, eyes fixed on the ground, his body language speaking of hesitation and withdrawal. And dazzling enough to make a man forget his name. A second passed, and Yumichika raised his eyes to meet those of the physician; and instead of the retreating, mild gaze of a man defeated, the doctor saw an invitation to the most erotic pleasures, the chance to lose himself in the swirling pools of violet.
He cleared his throat. "This—this is him?"
Savo only nodded.
"He's barely into manhood. He, uh, he can't want—how's he going to take . . . being—being out there naked in front of everyone with me, uh, ehm, examining him?" The doctor stammered.
"I don't mind you touching me," Yumichika said smoothly.
Still, the physician balked. "I . . . I don't know. It would be . . . very . . . odd."
"But it's what I want," Yumichika said, taking a slow, tantalizing step closer. "Think of how envious the others will be to see you touching me . . . as part of your job."
The physician gave a shaky laugh. Clearly, the idea appealed to him, and yet it was so strange that he was not sure he could actually carry it out.
Savo honed in for the sale. "Twelve thousand dema and the chance to put on a little show in front of the buyers. I'm giving you first crack at it, Lucas. If you're not interested, I can always ask Embry." Embry was the other auction house physician.
Embry, who'd been standing nearby conducting his own examination of another slave, had been listening to the entire conversation. "You wouldn't have to ask me twice," he piped up.
"Of course not," Lucas chuckled, but there was something derisive in his voice. "You already feel them l up during your private examinations. How many have you slinked when I wasn't looking?"
"I'll never tell," Embry replied. "But I will tell you . . . " He straightened up and looked at Savo. "I could use twelve thousand." His gaze roved over to Yumichika. "And I'd be happy to give him the once-over in front of the entire fucking Soul Society."
"Such language for a doctor," Lucas chastised with a condescending smirk. "But if you're so anxious to get a piece of the action, why don't we examine him together? And Savo, you can pay each of us, say, seven thousand dema?"
Savo turned to Yumichika, who appeared completely unruffled as he replied with a nod. "Even better."
"Embry?"
"Agreed."
"Well, then the matter is settled," Savo said, wondering if he had truly, as Lucas had first charged, lost his mind. Or if he were just being taken for a fool by a wily slave.
"He'll have to go last," Lucas stated, and a pointed smile stretched his ample mouth from cheek to cheek. "It would be . . . unwise to stick him in the middle. Who knows if my good fellow physician will be able to recover himself after such a scene? He might need some private time."
Embry enjoyed the barb. "Yes, indeed. And you'd find yourself right there with me. We could have a fucking contest to see who gets to be the man."
Lucas spit with laughter. "A spar! Dueling dicks!"
While the two physicians were soaking in their own idea of debauched hilarity, Yumichika turned to Savo and motioned with him to move away from the two men back into the waiting area.
"Now, that was a performance," Savo beamed. "Brilliant! Although I'm not sure what will happen when the moment actually comes. Are you sure you want those two men all over you in front of everyone?"
"It's no different than what I saw with the other slaves out in the auctions outside," Yumichika replied. "The only difference is that I will be putting on a show." He looked over at Sweetie, whom Savo had left in the charge of one of the auction house guards while he and Savo had been working their deal. She was happily playing with some scraps of paper and a pencil the guard had managed to scrape up. "You'll make sure she stays out here while that's going on, right?"
"I promised you I would," Savo replied.
Yumichika regarded him with a grave expression. "You must be in control of the auction. I know you told me you're not the auctioneer, but it must be made clear that I will not be sold to any house that will not take her."
"After what I just saw, I don't think that will be a problem. You could convince a king to bring a pig into his bed, as long as you came with it," Savo quipped.
"Or . . . " Yumichika took on his most modest affectation. "You could just decide not to sell me. You could keep me yourself."
Savo chortled. "Now, why would I want to do that? You are charming, there's no doubt about that. But what use have I for a lovely decoration? Besides, men aren't my thing. You'll be taken into a household where you'll be appreciated for all your . . . natural skills and abilities." A pause. "You're a bit dusty and messy after the walk. Maybe you should clean yourself up a bit first."
"No," Yumichika deferred with certainty. "The way I look right now will be perfect. I need only two things."
"What?"
"I need to be clothed when they take me out there," Yumichika replied. "And I need a pin or a . . . a skinny twig about this long to hold up my hair." Silently, he added, "And a lot of courage."
Five hours later, Savo stood up excitedly. "There are only two ahead of you now," he said with a chirp in his voice. "And the bidding has run high! Oh, let's hope it continues to do so!"
"You must untie my wrists and chain my arms behind me," Yumichika said, standing up as well.
Savo narrowed his eyes. "Why? I know you can slip out of the manacles."
"How will they get this shift off me if my arms are tied? If you use the chains, they can just use the key to free me long enough to slip it off, and then chain me up again." His voice was absolutely steady. "They'll enjoy watching. And you know I can't use flashstep here. I couldn't escape even if I tried."
"That's true—"
"And you must tell them I used to be a Shinigami. If they are men of power, they will like the idea of lording that over me," Yumichika went on.
Savo shook his head with a smile. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing by trusting you, but my greed is outpacing my reason."
Bidding for the next two slaves went quickly.
"This is it," Savo said, sounding both nervous and excited. "Guard, bring the little girl."
The auctioneer, a rabbit-looking man with a jumpy manner and snappy movements, saw Savo waiting.
"Our last piece of merchandise comes from the ever-reliable Savo," the auctioneer announced. "Savo, what have you got for us this time?"
Savo stepped out onto the platform, leaving Yumichika and Sweetie in the custody of the two physicians and the house guards.
"Ah, thank you, thank you, Pulte. Yes, yes, I have something for you today that will make it worth all the long hours you've been sitting here," Savo chimed. "In fact, I am selling two for the price of one. They are a set and must be sold together or there can be no deal." There, he had kept the first part of his promise: to make sure the inseparable nature of his pair was clearly articulated, although given enough money, he would not care if they stayed together or not. "And I think once you see him, you will have no problem with taking his . . . little companion. I should also tell you that he used to be a Shinigami, although you will concede that being a Soul Reaper was an immense waste of his . . . assets." He had their rapt attention, as always. But he knew he was about to present to them something they had never seen before and could never expect to see again. And he relished the moment. "As a special precaution . . . to make sure he's physically suitable to enter your homes, and because I am sure you will spending an outrageous amount on him, you will be able to witness his examination by the two house physicians. That's only fair, is it not, when spending your masters' money?" A pause. "Very well, then." He held out his arm and the two physicians, one on each side, escorted Yumichika out onto the platform. Sweetie followed of her accord, grasping the hem of Yumichika's garment in both hands.
The room was still as a tomb. All eyes were riveted.
"I will turn it over to the good doctors now," Savo said, and as he left the platform, he took Sweetie with him, and she went without a peep. Yumichika watched as Savo turned her over to the guard, who removed her from the room.
Good. Now it was show time.
Embry took over. "Good afternoon, gentlemen . . . and ladies. Well, this is a first. You don't usually get to see us doing our job. But in this case, I agree with Savo, that you will want to know you are getting what you pay for. So, let's get started." A pause. "The first thing we do as physicians is just make a quick visual sweep," he said, as Lucas removed the manacles from Yumichika's wrists. "To do that, the slave strips naked . . . "
Yumichika had on only one garment: the over-sized shift. And he knew how to shed it like a snake shedding its skin. He reached up behind his neck and took hold of the back, drawing the it slowly up over his head so that it still covered the front of his body. As he pulled it over his head, he drew loose the twig he'd used as a hairpin, so that his black tresses spilled down over his shoulders like rivers of coal.
Already some in the bidding pool were fidgeting.
He let the shift slide down his arms, down his body, landing in a pile on the floor at his feet, leaving him exposed to those who would buy him.
The current in the room changed in that instant. Changed from curious observation to lurid anticipation. The slave on the platform was excruciatingly splendid. It seemed unfair that only one household should walk away with him.
Embry scooted the shift to the side with his foot as Lucas reattached the manacles behind Yumichika's back. "We make sure there's no lopsidedness in his stance that might speak of ill-formed limbs. Turn."
Lucas prompted Yumichika to turn around.
"We check from front and back, because it' not always noticeable from just one angle. Here, from the back you can see much better if there any abnormalities. None to be noted here." He placed a finger on each shoulder. "Shoulders even." Then he did the same at the shoulder blades and the hip bones. "All even. I would even go so far as to say perfect. Turn."
Yumichika turned to face forward again. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, but he made sure that there was some hint, some faint wisp in the corner of his mouth, in the pull of his cheek, that countered the coyness of his eye.
"Then we check the solidness of the bones," Embry went on. "Often, if a bone has been broken and not healed properly, we can detect it just by feeling. And badly healed bones are usually disqualifiers for this auction house. They are so much more likely to break again." He placed both hands on Yumichika's left arm, which Lucas did the same with the right arm. "It's easy to detect a break in the arms, but the legs are much more difficult, because the bone isn't as easily felt." He placed his hand at the juncture where Yumichika' leg met his hip, pressing his fingers into the taut groin.
Yumichika parted his lips and drew in a barely perceptible breath – only it was meant to be fully perceptible to the viewers. He drew his head up off his chest and closed his eyes. As Embry's examination moved lower on his leg, followed by Lucas on the other leg, his shoulders relaxed and the moment of incitement passed.
"No broken bones."
Yumichika felt an inward snide satisfaction at this statement. It was testimony to just how powerful Ruri'iro Kujaku had been when it came to healing him, for he'd broken many bones as a Shinigami, some more than once. And now, no sign of those breaks.
Embry continued on with checks of the ears and nose and throat. He listened to the heart and lungs. Then he made a cursory dental check, which aroused several spectators in some strange way.
"Of course, the last thing we check are the sexual organs, to make sure he isn't malformed or carrying any disease – visible disease, at least." Without hesitation, he reached down and cupped Yumichika's scrotum.
Yumichika drew in a sharp, calculated breath.
"Are the testes under-sized? Over-sized? Are they heavy? Light?" Embry explained. He was down on one knee, looking back and forth between his audience and the object of his examination. "Are they smooth or do they show sign of surface infection?"
Yumichika forcefully allowed himself to indulge the sensations. He had to provide the crowd, one of whom would own him, with something other than mere beauty, if he hoped to make the payment and keep Sweetie at his side. He felt the warmth flowing into that part of his body, and he did not attempt to stop it. He filled his mind with every tawdry image in order to encourage it.
"When examining the penis, we look for—well! It looks like he's going trying to give us a little help in that area, I'd say," Embry quipped, noting the nascent erection there at eye-level. His remark brought a smattering of nervous, aching laughter from the bidders. "Once again we look for obvious signs of disease—" He wrapped his fingers around the growing flesh.
Yumichika gasped and grimaced.
Which made the spectators gasp and grimace.
Yumichika added a tremor to his breathing, kept his eyes closed, and tilted his head back at just the right angle to give his viewers the most provocative view of his neck, pulsing an invitation with every heartbeat.
"Is there any discharge? An odor? Visible sores or—" Embry, the picture of perverse confidence, found himself swallowing down his own sudden nervousness. He felt as if the control he'd always had over his desires was slowly going up in smoke. " . . . or . . . discoloration? Does the slave . . . respond to stimulation?"
Above him, Yumichika drew on the long-buried recollections of his past. The days of Mito. The days of bartering his body.
And how readily those memories came flooding back to assist him.
He opened his eyes and looked down at the man manipulating him. He watched Embry's fingers as they massaged and caressed . . . and he made sure everyone saw him watching. A voyeur observing his own seduction.
A well-played act.
He stood trembling and shifting, small sounds of arousal breaking forth, muscles tensing and untensing.
"Shall we finish the examination, Doctor Embry?" This from Lucas, who could see that his colleague was falling under the spell of what was obviously a clearly thought–out ploy to raise the bidding to unforeseen levels. "Doctor Embry?"
Embry shook himself loose just long enough to stumble to his feet. "Y-yes, yes, of course."
Lucas looked to someone out of sight beyond the platform. "We need the table and the jar on top of it."
Two guards carried a wooden table up on the platform, set it down and returned out of sight again.
Looking at Embry and seeing that he would not be able to speak so eloquently any longer, given his own state of arousal, Lucas took over. "For the bed-slaves, the last thing we have to look at is . . . the receiving end." He said this with a quirky smile and subtle chuckle that eased some of the sexual tension in the room. But the reprieve was short-lived. "Here, come here." He tugged Yumichika to the edge of the table and leaned him face-down over top of it.
Yumichika made sure he had his face to the viewers, and he put on his best expression of fearful yet eager anticipation, lips slightly parted, eyes half-closed.
Lucas nodded to Embry. "His shoulders."
Embry went to the other side of the table and placed his hands on Yumichika's shoulders, holding him down.
"As elsewhere, we make sure there's no sign of visible damage or disease," Lucas narrated his own examination, parting Yumichika's buttocks as if he were breaking bread. "It's a tricky business here, but very important. A slave who has never participated in the activity must be treated very gingerly during the examination, and a recommendation must follow to the would-be purchaser as to whether or not the slave is physically receptive to the possibility of such activity."
The pedantic sterility of his words was perfect for the situation. In contrast with Yumichika's performance as a man being unwillingly brought to a willing crescendo, it could not be better matched.
"Many a bed-slave would have fared better had they been brought slowly and patiently into the practice," Lucas went on. "Too much too soon, and you'll be dealing with tears, infection, sepsis, and sometimes, even death. That's a loss of investment that could easily be avoided by ascertaining first, if the slave is suited for the act, and second, easing them into it. So, when we conduct this part of the examination, we can feel for any deformities that might disqualify them, check for elasticity, and we're very careful not to injure the slave." A pause. "It's not the most pleasant part of the job, but with this one . . . I might actually enjoy it!"
The bidders tittered, but they were too absorbed in the indecency to break their concentration.
Yumichika tensed, despite himself. The last man who had entered him was Mendalo, and that had been many decades ago.
He felt Lucas touching him with his finger just outside, and then before he could even think, there was the familiar moment of pressure and Lucas was inside, pressing here and there. Yumichika groaned with appropriate dramatic emphasis and writhed upon the table, beneath Embry's restraining hands.
"It's important to feel for tumors, check for prostate health," Lucas was saying, adding, "He feels perfectly sound in this area. He's quite elastic without being loose."
Yumichika focused every bit of his attention on the movement of Lucas's finger across his prostate, and he knew from the physician's persistent stimulation of the gland that the purpose was to bring him to climax.
At least, they were working towards the same goal.
Yumichika shifted his hips where they met the table's edge, wriggling against the intensity of what had now moved quite beyond the limitations of a mere medical exam.
Lucas beamed like a circus ringmaster. "I'm not sure if he's trying to get away from me or increase the sensation; but clearly, he is very receptive to stimulation."
Embry, pressing Yumichika's shoulders against the table, felt the drops of sweat dripping down his face.
Yumichika made a pretense of stifling his groans, and just those minute sounds decided Lucas that he would see it all the way through now.
"Not much longer . . . just a little more," the physician said, as if encouraging a child through the act of receiving a shot. "There we go . . . there we go. Come on . . . you're almost there."
And although it was all part of his plan, Yumichika fell more and more into helplessness as his body rose to the occasion. He thought of Mendalo and the snow, Ikkaku on the edge of Maiweg's orchard . . .
Ruri'iro Kujaku in the maroon room, where one touch had been enough to heat him to the melting point.
This was like none of those moments of ecstasy; but it needed their memories to culminate a physical action, Yumichika bucking violently against the arms holding him down, strangled cries of release seeping through his drawn lips. After he had spent himself, he fell exhaustedly atop of the table, his own ejaculate sticky and warm between his stomach and the wooden surface. His cheek, flushed and damp, glistened with tiny drops of sweat, mingled with the dirt and dust of the streets.
Lucas—even he was now shaking—withdrew the means of his examination, eliciting one final groan from the patient.
The doctor swallowed and nodded stiffly. "Yes, well, that concludes the examination." He took a few steps back, concluding, "Uh, he's all yours, Pulte." He turned the stage over to the auctioneer, quickly exiting with Embry and leaving Yumichika still lying across the table.
Pulte, caught off-guard, was barely able to keep his feet and maintain his countenance. He ascended the steps while motioning to Savo. "Will you come, uh, stand up here with your . . . your merchandise?"
Savo bounded up the steps. Events had made him giddy. He drew Yumichika up slowly and turned him towards the bidders, like a schoolboy displaying his good work. For his own part, Yumichika looked every bit the wanton creature in the foggy grip of post-coital euphoria, dripping with perspiration and gummed with semen, disheveled and out-of-breath.
Pulte cleared his throat. "Well, that was . . . illuminating. I—I never—I never knew wh-what went into a slave's, ehm, examination." He took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow. "I, uh . . . I don't . . . " He was clearly flustered and his voice wavered.
"Open viewing?" Savo prompted.
"Yes, yes. We will now have open viewing."
Not a soul came forward.
Savo felt a momentary pang of fear. After the amazingly seductive performance Yumichika had put on, was it possible that no one wanted to buy him? Had he intimidated them all so much as to chase them away?
"No one?" The auctioneer asked. "No one wants a closer look?" Faced with dead silence, he coughed once. "Or maybe no one needs a second look. Very well, let's start the bidding. Do I have ten thousand?"
A man in the front row raised his card. "Fifty thousand."
A thrill ran up Savo's spine. There would be no playing around at this auction.
Another man close to the back held up his card. "Sixty thousand."
The man in the front row countered. "Eighty thousand."
The auctioneer knew now that he was dealing with a piece of merchandise that was about to break all records. "Let's not be niggardly, gentlemen. Surely, someone will put up one hundred thousand."
"One hundred thousand," offered the man in the back row.
Over the next ten minutes, literally every buyer in the room put for a bid, going up in increments sometimes of ten thousand, sometime twenty or even fifty thousand. Before long, the bidding was up to three hundred thousand and down to two men.
"I have three hundred thousand from the House of Councilman Lutan," the auctioneer crowed. "Will you beat that, House of High Priest Meckkat?"
The representative of the latter simpered. "Three hundred and fifty thousand."
Savo thought he might rise to his own right there on the spot.
Yumichika continued to stand silent and coy, only daring to raise his eyes from time to time in a display of affected modesty.
"Three hundred and seventy-five."
"Honestly, Osa, what does Lutan need with another sex slave? He can't even make good use of the ones he already has," came the challenge from the High Priest's buyer.
Osa's response was equally vituperative. "It would appear that the High Priest spends more time delving into his own bed-slaves than delving into things holy. You should know that, Adwar."
Adwar scowled. "Four hundred and fifty thousand!" he proclaimed, pleased with himself for making a formidable jump in the bid.
"Four hundred and sixty thousand," Osa countered in a maddeningly calm, provocative tenor.
"Four hundred and sixty thousand!" The auctioneer was beside himself. "Do I hear five hundred?! Who will offer the highest bid in the history of this house?!"
From the back of the room came a new voice, deep and filled with certainty. It commanded everyone's attention. "The highest bid in the history of all the auction houses. Eight hundred thousand."
A vacuum of stunned silence almost sucked the air from the place, before the auctioneer stammered, "Eight—eight hundred thousand."
Adwar leaped to his feet and glared at the late bidder. "Oh, come now, Zibell, be reasonable! No one can compete with that kind of money!"
"Precisely," Zibell said, stepping out of the shadows.
Yumichika raised his eyes – not as part of his performance, but because he wanted to see what this man looked like. There was something in the man's voice that made him uneasy. It was a sort of sneering confidence, the carelessness of a certain brand of wealth, the cocksure self-importance of a man who knew he was better and more powerful than everyone else in the room.
And taking in his appearance, Yumichika could see immediately that it was not only the sound of the man's voice that gave such an impression. Everything Yumichika had suspected upon hearing him speak was confirmed in the man's appearance.
Zibell was tall and thin—too thin to be attractive. He looked to be in his mid-fifties, his gray hair pulled back into a long pony-tail. His face was pear-shaped, his fleshy cheeks making him appear as if he were storing nuts in his mouth. Yumichika could not get a clear look at his eyes, hidden under heavy folds of lid, but he could almost discern a disdainful down-the-nose gaze of disregard for the other bidders. He was dressed in well-designed clothing of fine fabrics. He wore gaudy rings on both hands and thick bangles on his wrists below the elbow-length sleeves of a pea-green waistcoat.
"So, the Orator wins again." This from Osa, who tossed his card to the floor. "Nice of you to wait until the last second to come forward."
Zibell was unmoved by their anger. "The Orator will have him," he said, walking down the aisle. "Unless someone wishes to outbid me." He was about to take the first step onto the platform, when another voice spoke out.
"Eight hundred and fifty thousand."
Zibell stopped and smiled. He turned towards the sound of the voice. "I might have guessed you would try to best my offer, Sinso. Has Lord Jubavi raised his age limit?"
Sinso remained seated, fanning himself with his card. He was a man very similar in appearance to Savo, except that his face seemed to be cast in permanent sarcasm. "What's it to you, Zee? Better my price or he's mine. And the little mouse that comes with him. You see, I don't mind paying that much for two, and neither will Lord Jubavi."
"Nine hundred thousand." Zibell let the words drop like stones.
"Nine hundred and fifty."
"This is annoying," Zibell sniffed, smoothing his hair with the ringed fingers of his right hand. "Let's make it a clean million and be done with it."
Sinso grinned. "He's all yours . . . for a million dema. I hope the Orator appreciates your judgment." He got up from his seat with a laugh and left with his own companions.
"One million," the auctioneer called out. "One million! Do I have a counter? Sold! To the House of Orator Nelphune!"
Zibell approached the house accountant who had been seated just behind the auctioneer. "Here is a note for one million." He wrote out a promissory. "Tomorrow, bring that yourself for payment. Do not send one of your men, not for that amount. Also, ask for me first and I will go with you to see the Orator's accountant. Such a sum will need verification of its genuineness."
Then, as the house was emptying out, he made his way to where Yumichika was still standing in display mode on the platform. He made a circle around him, visually examining his purchase.
"You're even nicer up close," he noted. "The Orator will be pleased."
"He'll be beside himself," Savo interjected, stepping up to remove the shackles.
"Yes, you're probably right," Zibell replied. "You outdid yourself this time, Savo. And a Shinigami, no less. How did you ever come up with this one?"
"Someone gave me a good tip," he shrugged. "Do you have your own bonds? He's tricky, so you don't want to take any chances with him. He tried to escape once already."
"My man has some," Zibell replied, and he motioned to his small entourage of two other men, both of whom came forward to change out Savo's shackles with their own straight-bar manacles. He looked back to Savo, "Will we see you tomorrow? Will you come with the house accountant to collect your money?"
"I will," Savo answered.
"Excellent, then you must stay for a meal," Zibell insisted. "I will order up the finest in appreciation of your amazing . . . procurement."
"I look forward to it."
Zibell returned his attention to his two assistants. "Take him to the carrier."
"Ahh, don't forget your bonus gift!" Savo bubbled, waving for the houseguard to bring Sweetie.
Zibell wrinkled his nose. "Oh . . . yes, of course."