A/N: Time for the second chapter! WOOT! As promised, I have the upload for all y'all and I hope it is enjoyed. Don't forget to leave reviews if you enjoy this fic, as the more of a response I get, the higher of a priority it is for me to work on.
Warning: This chapter contains language, slave dealings, general anger from a very stubborn woman, references to prostitution, slave abuse, mentions of slave abuse, and mildly suggestive content.
With love,
Korrupted.
Shout Outs-
Casere: I'm really glad you enjoyed it! I hope you like this chapter too!
thundercrash: I liked having Haruka as just barely showing that yes, she WAS a female, but Usagi just going WAY overboard with the color pink. I personally, can't stand the color if it's not paired with black, and a room of all pink does make me cringe and vocalize that I feel like I am walking into someone's lady-bits. There will be other references to the original universe in the fic. Good luck finding all of the Easter eggs, and I hope you continue to enjoy this!
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SAILOR MOON. Trust me.
When the door opened again, Makoto was halfway through the stew that Haruka had brought up for her, greedily eating as if she hadn't had a proper meal in many days. A middle aged man with a very wild beard and clear brown eyes entered, his sweaty hair cropped short. His clothing was simple; cotton trousers and a white tunic, a leather apron over both, black boots over his feet, and leather bracers about his wrists. The goldsmith had a small satchel with him, looking from the girl who was obviously the slave he was called to craft new slave bands for, to the blonde he knew very well. "Ah, Madam Aino! I see you've finally gotten yourself a slave." He didn't miss the glare the green eyed female cast him. "I would have thought you would have sent for the blacksmith instead of me, however."
Minako wanted nothing more than to shake the metal worker by his collar until his brain was rattling inside of his skull, but she needed that idiotic lump between his ears whether Travis Freeman knew it or not. He was a regular patron of the bar portion below, where men and some women would go to drink and flirt with her staff, Elizabeth serving up beverages to the lusty patrons to help loosen tongues. If being a seller of pleasure was her bread and butter, then being a collector of information was her side job. Rei and Ami could play the part of an innocent, easily impressed girl, both of them her best informants on gathering anything that might be of help to the King and Queen. Typically, she would send her information through Haruka, or the Magistrate, but on the rare occasions when a member of the court would call one of her girls to the castle, Minako would send a sealed scroll with her to leave at the dead-drop location. The goldsmith had a nasty habit of eavesdropping on people he passed, or were in his shop, and an even nastier one of repeating it to the bookish bluenette after a few mugs of ale and two small drinks of clear liquor she called, 'Crystal Shine'. Therefore, Minako was unable to throttle the man where he stood. "No, I asked for you as I know you are one of the best in precious metals." Her gaze softened as she looked at the grumbling woman who looked ready to punch Travis. "What metals do you have to make... You know... Sl-slave cuffs with?" That word still left her with a foul taste in her mouth, only now it burned like bile.
He opened his satchel and retrieved a few blank rounds of metals; white gold, a shockingly clean looking iron, polished steel, yellow gold, and platinum to place on the desk between them. "Traditionally, iron is used since it is durable, but I suppose that with your trade it would look rather unsightly. So, this is a light toned, clean iron I use. It's bright enough to look nice, but strong enough to support the use of chains should they get out of hand and require discipline."
Minako wanted to be sick with how casually he spoke about shackling people, even with Makoto in the room, glaring at him in ways that told the blonde that she was likely plotting out a very graphic death for him in her mind. But he then pointed at the polished steel and went on. "This is my best steel alloy. Very strong, very clean, good for slaves who are allergic to some of the more impure metals if you don't want to spoil their good looks for a few weeks." His eyes turned to the seething emerald eyed woman, glancing her over once. "Yours seems fairly attractive. Very tall, good shape, large bust." His attention returned to the slightly green-tinted brothel owner. "It would be a good option as it still allows you the ability to chain a slave to the wall, floor, or even a post to be beaten should they forget their place."
He then pointed at the finer metals. "These would have to be mixed with steel or iron for more support, but it would only be to keep it from softening and losing shape. These are more ornamental than the ones I've just shown you, and obviously far more expensive." Travis stroked his beard and tilted his head. "Which did you wish me to use?"
It was difficult for the blue eyed female to stand, sinking into her chair as the realization that she really was about to commission a slave's collar and wrist shackles to force onto another human. After a few moments, her gaze flicked to her furious looking charge, beckoning her over. "Makoto? Which one would you prefer? I mean, you will be the one in them, so I would like your input." Minako wanted the poor female to be as comfortable as possible.
An auburn eyebrow arched at the words, coming only a little closer to get a better look at the options. "Well..." She began. "The iron it uncomfortable, and it rusts far too easy. The steel is really painful after a few days. It cuts into your wrists a lot." Verdant hues flicked from precious metal to precious metal. "Yellow gold might be best. It's not as pricey as white or platinum, but still would be more comfortable." Her gaze narrowed as she looked the goldsmith in the eyes, having felt his own gaze on her body. "And before you ask it, I am not being assigned whore duties. So, stop undressing me with your eyes, you bastard."
Travis turned a respectable red hue at her words, half out of fury, and half at her accurately calling him out. "Madam Aino, you would do well to teach your slave some manners. Disrespecting her betters is asking for a proper beating." His voice was dark with rage, his eyes cold with hate. All of his powerful muscles were tense, like a serpent coiled and poised to strike.
However, Makoto didn't back down. Though the male stood a good few inches above her, clearly stronger, and not partially starved, the auburn haired woman clenched her fists, scoffing at his words. "That's rich, coming from you, Freeman." She pointed at his wrist guards and then neck. "What, did you get those scars shaving? Don't think that you're too good to treat me like a fucking human just because you got freed. I'm not stupid, but clearly, you a- Oooofff!"
The smith lost his temper, punching the slave hard in the stomach. Makoto double over, dropping to her knees as her arms folded over the place of impact. A soft retching started up as the blow caused her to heave, the reddish brown haired female trying to hold down her first meal in days as her body tried to violently reject it, her frame shuddering from the struggle. Minako, however, grabbed the dagger from her desk as she stood, throwing it to narrowly miss his neck on purpose, her cerulean eyes alight in fury. "Don't you EVER strike any of MY girls again. Do I make myself clear?" Her words were cold, deadly, holding the promise of pain and horrible injuries that could be inflicted.
Travis' face was still twitching with his anger, but he jerkily nodded. "Which metal do you want me to use, Madam?" He half snarled from left over rage.
The blonde closed her eyes, hating the choice she had to make. "Gold. Yellow gold would work best." She finally stated, loathing ever syllable that flowed through her lips.
The smith nodded as Makoto shakily got to her feet, her left arm still holding her stomach. "Very well. Now, all that's left is the branding. Do you have one with a seal symbol ready, or shall I prepare a quick brand here?"
Minako's eyes snapped open and up at him, her mouth agape as cold horror spread through her body. "A... A WHAT?!" She half yelped, looking at Makoto then back to the smith. "You can't be serious!"
"According to the law, all slaves must bear the symbol of their master upon them. It's to show who can right fully claim them as property. Any old brands are erased by the Magistrate's own armorer by using a square blank to cover the former symbol up." He simply stated.
Makoto glowered at the floor, her lips in an open snarl. "I don't have brands. None of the other three assholes wanted to mark up their 'pretty little slave girl' with one."
"Excellent. Saves us time. So, do you have a branding iron or not?"
Minako could feel bile rising in her throat, wanting so desperately to vomit. "I... I don't have a branding iron..." This was utterly barbaric. "All I have are my letter seals..." She was dazed from everything, the smith taking up one of the seals and studying the symbol there.
To his great amusement, he saw the two letters M.A with the symbol for the planet of Venus placed below them. "This symbol should do. It's easily traced to you as master." He rummaged through his satchel again, finding a circle and small equal armed cross attached to metal rods, wrapping a thick leather thong around them to create a handle.
In a haze, Minako watched as he shoved the brand into her fireplace, Travis then grabbing Makoto by her hair and throwing her face down to the floor. The brunette didn't surrender, her nails tearing at his hands as she tried to climb back to her feet, growling with hate and adrenaline. It was clear that her fighting spirit had been another reason why she had gone unbranded, her emerald hues brimming with resentment and resistance. However, she was over-powered, Travis using his foot to apply pressure to the small of her back, one hand grasping the handle of the branding iron as the other tore the back of the filthy dress, exposing the dirty, tan, whip lash scarred surface he was about to disfigure. Makoto was struggling still, trying to sink into the floor and escape the iron that was close enough for her to feel the heat of the glowing symbol, a low, growling whimper of worry escaping her throat. Suddenly, Minako snapped out of the trance. "Wait! Don't brand her!" She shouted, panting as her form shook.
The goldsmith narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the businesswoman once more. "All slaves must carry the marks of their master. It is the law." He spoke in a voice thick with cold hate, as if enraged by the prospect that this stubborn, unruly slave may escape the fate he himself had been forced to endure.
"Then embellish her shackles with the symbols! Just, please! She'll have the mark, but I am begging you, don't brand her." The blonde pleaded.
The hulking man scowled at the slave under his foot, his upper lip curled into a snarl. "Very well, Madam Aino." He found a small bucket of water and shoved the orange hot iron into it, a fwooosh! of steam rising as he moved away from the brunette. "But your slave had best learn some manners. Next time, I may not be so easily swayed."
Makoto was livid but silent as she slowly rose from the floor, holding her clothing to keep it from falling from her body as she backed herself into a corner, her eyes darting between the goldsmith and the blonde. Minako was trembling harshly as she sat back down, Travis removing three golden items from his bag. "These are temporary shackles." He stated, showing the plain rolled yellow gold collar and wrist bindings. "I will have your order ready in two days."
Walking over to the seething slave swiftly, he moved to yank one hand free of her body at a time to fasten on a shackle, yanking her head forwards to roughly fix on her collar before pushing her away by his grasp. "That will be five hundred ten kogis, and twenty dimuts."
The whip wielder had to bite back her outburst of how costly the items were, but considering that he hadn't branded her even after Makoto insulted him, she kept quiet. She turned towards her lock box, retrieving the key from her hip to open the safe and remove a three leather pouches. Each one with a gold thread contained two hundred kogis, handing them all over to him. "My thanks for not branding her. Truly, Travis." The blonde told him in a soft voice.
Travis took the bags and set them next to his satchel, placing a hand on the smaller woman's shoulder. "Minako, I worry about you. Especially with a slave that spirited." His eyes flickered over to the woman who was hunkered in the corner again, her right fist gripped tightly with her left hand holding her torn dress up as the gold shackles glowed slightly from the light of the fire. "If she hurts you, or your girls, promise me you will fetch myself or the Magistrate. Please, Minako."
The woman smiled sadly at him. This was probably her favorite side to the goldsmith; the side that cared about all of the women who were living in The Crystal Palace. He might be an imbecile and a brute, but the man did worry about them. "Travis, you know Haruka, Setsuna, and Elizabeth are all very capable guards, and I am not weak either. But yes, I promise. Now, please, may I speak to Makoto alone?"
He nodded and collected his things, pausing to glare warningly at the slave only to have another hate filled snarl cast upon him before leaving. Minako looked at the auburn haired woman in cautious worry, a timid smile on her lips. "We do need to work on manners. If you mouth off to the wrong person, they'll kill you." The bordello owner mentioned.
"Why did you stop him from branding me?"
The woman tilted her head, clearly confused. "Why in the name of the Gods would I have let him brand you? That's utterly barbaric. It's bad enough that I have to force you to wear those damn things." She gestured at the wrist and neck restraints, the rings on each of the three gold accessories clearly marking her as a slave. "But, to brand you like cattle? That would be unforgivable."
Makoto frowned deeply, her green eyes like emerald slits. "Can I get a bath and clothes yet? I feel disgusting already, and I'm practically half naked." She grumbled, Minako arching her eyebrow.
"Of course. Please, come with me. I'll take you to your room."
The taller woman held her dirty, torn clothing about herself carefully to keep it from slipping off of her thin form, the old scars on her back somewhat exposed as she followed the blonde out and into the hallway. Curious eyes of various colors watched her, her expression growing more annoyed by the second as she heard whispers of the golden slave restraints. She nearly walked into Minako when the woman halted, opening a door for her to a room. "This is where you will be living. My room is the one on the top floor, so please come to me if you need anything." She stood aside to allow her new charge entry. "Haruka probably set your new clothes on your bed. If you have a particular style you want, tell me so I can have the tailor make you them."
The silent woman walked in, taking in the simple room, large bed, standard furnishings, beauty table, mirror, and few chairs. Sure enough, there was a stack of clothing on the bed for her, but she gazed at the uncomfortable looking woman who she was now forced to serve, her new 'master' that she would do her best to infuriate and annoy. This woman would rue the day she had chosen to keep her as a slave. "I... I'm sorry that we had to meet like this, but I hope you'll come to like it here." Makoto internally scoffed, her expression disgusted. "So, enjoy your bath. I will talk to the girls while you are cleaning up."
Slowly, as if unsure what she was supposed to do, the blue eyed brothel owner left, shutting the door behind her. Makoto released her death-grip on her tattered dress and it slid to the floor, exposing her dirty, too thin body, the many whip scars on her back, the many bruises and red marks from the scuffles in the last day and a half. She lifted her hands to glare at the pretty gold shackles in pure contempt, turning in anger to snatch up her clothing to locate the attached washroom that had strange oil lights that seemed to brighten when she entered; what kinds of mages had she employed to produce this effect? Though she would never admit it, the woman was highly impressed by the fact that the blonde had paid likely thousands of kogis just to get indoor plumbing, Makoto starting the water up for her bath. She nervously glanced at the various soaking oils and salts, settling on one that smelled of roses and adding it to the warm water. The narrow window let in the light to the washroom as she shut off the tap and slipped into the first luxury she had had in several years, sighing happily as the warm water soothed her sore body. As much as she hated her new confines, her new situation, and her new master, the green eyed woman had to admit that it certainly could be worse.
