Human Commodity (11 page)

Daria found herself in a dark cement hallway sloping downward rather steeply.
 
Still trying to behave compliantly… the OTRs told them they were to gain the trainers’ confidence to gather information… Daria said, “This is kind of creepy.
 
I bet we’re almost under the street.”

For no particular reason, Damon decided to answer her.
 
He still wanted to figure out the most interesting way to train her… interesting for him, of course.
 
“It leads to the Training Compound next door.”

“Oh.”
 
Daria asked, “Is your office as nice as Phillip’s?”

Damon thought of his ‘office’.
 
It was a cement training room with five steel cages and various instruments of bondage and torture.
 
“You might not find it quite as comfortable, but I like it.”

“Am I going to have a roommate?
 
I always study better with someone else to help me a little.
 
Mom says I sometimes get distracted,” Daria admitted, in sync with her new role.
 
She actually did wonder if she would be in the same room with Lizzie and Annie.
 
It would make things a whole lot easier.

“You’ll be sharing a room with four other girls, but you each have your separate areas.”
 
Damon could not wait for the girl to see her cage.
 
He was enjoying not ‘lying’ to her, but their shared camaraderie would be coming to an end soon… in a couple of minutes, in fact.

Daria was calming again, because it seemed that even this big man was not going to attack her.
 
She was already questioning her years of instruction that bastards were insatiable beasts with no restraint.
 
She listened to the unfamiliar sound of the clacking of her leather flats on the cement.
 
“HELLO,” she called loudly, and Damon took a misstep at the unusually loud outburst from the quiet girl, and he wondered who she had heard in the passageway.
 
“Shoot, I thought there might be an echo.”
 
Daria had never been off headquarters’ grounds in her eighteen years, but she had read about the caverns in the mountains and this tunnel reminded her of the pictures.
 
The description of echoes had fascinated her, and she was disappointed that it did not work.

IQ30?
 
Most of the girls he led back to the compound were at least a little nervous of him.
 
This young woman was turning the opposite direction, and instead of building fear she seemed to becoming calmer around him.
 
Damon was slightly worried he could snap her mind if he worked her too fast.

The closer they got to the proverbial ‘light at the end of the tunnel’, the more queasy Daria’s stomach felt.
 
It was difficult to maintain her agreeable façade and she hoped that whoever this bastard handed her off to did not have to stoop like he did to get through the doorway at the end of the underground trail.
 
This big guy
was
sort of handsome though, but he made her feel weird inside.

She followed the trainer down a lit cement hallway that she found mildly claustrophobic.
 
They wound down another passageway, and as they passed a door, Daria heard a girl scream.
 
She stopped in her tracks, mostly because her knees were buckling from the agony in the wail.
 
When the trainer turned to look at her, she asked, “Shouldn’t you go see what’s wrong with her?”

“Come on.”
 
Damon continued down the hall, listening to the girl’s footsteps as she followed him.

Daria began to realize just how little her mother had told her about her new situation.
 
Oh, she knew that she was supposed to memorize finances, locations and names… she knew everything she was supposed to remember to pass on to them.
 
What she did not know was what was going to be happening to her while she was exposed to the information.

Damon led her into a small sparse room with metal lockers on the wall and a desk with an odd machine and computer.
 
He tapped in some information, and the strange machine spat out some metal bands.
 
Daria picked one up to read it while Damon opened lockers.
 
“US18AG1427?
 
Where’s my IQ number?”
 
Daria wondered if it was a secret code for separating the commodities.

Damon squeezed his eyes closed.
 
“I’m still determining that.”

“Shouldn’t it say ‘Daria’, so that people know who I am?”
 
Lilly wanted to know if it was true that they stripped away the slave’s identity.

Damon stood with five leather straps.
 
“The number tells them who you are now.”

Daria whispered, “Oh.”
 
She was beginning to feel scared, and she sealed her lips to keep from blurting out something that would get her into trouble.
 
She watched in silence as Damon slid the ID bands into the pockets of the collar and cuffs.
 
The reality of the situation was becoming frightening, and once again she wished that she were back in the attic.

She jerked back and yelped when Damon grabbed for her hand.
 
It took her a moment to get up the nerve to let the man latch cuffs around her wrists and ankles, and as he moved her long hair to put the collar around her neck, she said softly, “Not too tight, okay?
 
I don’t really like things around my neck.”

“You’ll get used to it.”
 
He walked back to the door.
 
“Come.”

Daria’s legs alternated from feeling like rubbery appendages to stiff boards that wanted to lock up on her.
 
Damon noticed that the girl was finally beginning to tremble, and he was relieved.
 
He had been wondering if she was intelligent enough to be afraid.

They entered a small cement room about the size of a large closet, and Damon rested back against the closed door.
 
He watched a red light over the sealed entry across from them, and Daria backed up to lean against the wall next to him to keep from falling.
 
After several minutes the light turned green, and Damon pushed away from the door as the sealed entry slid open.
 
“Come.”

Daria followed him into a clinic room where a middle-aged man in a white lab coat was putting things onto a counter.
 
His back was to them, and he said, “This IQ80?”

Damon replied, “We’re still adjusting the number, Eddie.
 
Last I decided was about 30.”
 
Daria filed the curious information away to consider later.

Eddie turned, expecting to look into the slack jawed blank stare of an idiot.
 
The firm had been conned out of money that way before.
 
Ironically, SHCI had set up a facility for the unwanted girls that were not capable of being trained.
 
It was used as a tax deduction, and they recouped some of the expense when their mothers were located and sold.

Instead, Eddie found himself looking at a rather pretty young woman of average height, who had waist-length shining brown hair and natural copper highlights.
 
She had remarkable green eyes… not hazel… they were as green as a cat’s.
 
She wore no makeup, and the sensible flowery shift and brown flats were either a shame to be clothing such a lovely girl or a true indication that she had absolutely no idea how unique she was.
 
The loose dress had no lines and gave no indication of her figure.
 
The previous contracts were dressed just as blandly, and Eddie wondered if it was some sort of religious requirement.

Eddie watched the girl as her eyes scanned the clinic.
 
She was the type of girl that a man would easily pass over as ordinary, until a second glance.
 
There was something about her… “You passing her?”

“I intended to, at first.
 
But I think I’m going to work with her myself for a while.
 
I’ll pass her if it becomes too frustrating,” Damon replied.
 
Eddie could see that Damon sensed something about her as well.

“Strip and get up onto the table,” the doctor ordered.

Daria’s eyes flew to him.
 
“What?”

“Strip, and get up here.” Eddie patted the metal table.

“Aren’t you going to give me a gown, or something?
 
Doc has soft cotton ones with flowers, but paper would be all right.”
 
Oh god, Mom.
 
I can’t do this.
 
Why didn’t you tell me?
 
Daria felt her panic surface, and there was no way she could possibly follow the order.
 
Two be naked… alone with two bastards…

“Get your fucking clothes off, slut,” Damon bellowed.
 
“Is that plain enough?”
 
Daria began crying, and she backed towards the sealed doorway.

“Her friends were odd, too,” Eddie remarked.
 
“It’s like they had no idea what the hell was expected of them.
 
One of them began to spout shit about POHO, and we finally had to gag her.”

Damon snagged her arm and pulled her so that she was facing him.
 
“Get that fucking dress off, now.”

“B..b..but…”

“Now,” he roared.
 
His eyes had turned so black that Daria could not tell where the irises and pupils in them separated.
 
The bronzed muscled chest was expanding in deep angry breaths, and Daria was terrified.

Her shaking fingers reached for the top button, and her mind took a hysterical twist of wanting to ask him if she was still going to get a green outfit or if he would at least turn around while she undressed.
 
Her fingers slipped on the buttons until she finally opened the one at her waist.
 
At some point, tears began to slide down her cheeks.
 
Daria did not even realize she was hitching frightened sobs as her dress pooled down by her shoes.

She scooped it up and held it in front of her sensible new restrictive white bra and panties.
 
This was the first time she had been naked in front of a man.
 
She shrieked one quick outburst when Damon grabbed the dress from her and tossed it into the corner.
 
His long dark ponytail had fallen over his shoulder, and her eyes fixed on it as it rose up and down on his chest with his deep breaths.

She was frozen, and Damon put his big hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.
 
She was staring at his hair, and other than occasional wracked cries, she was silent.
 
Her pupils were dilating and retreating, and he turned to the doctor.
 
“Eddie?”
 
Shit
.
 
Damon had never seen one shut down so fast.

Eddie waved a hand, and Damon backed the young woman towards the table.
 
Her gaze never faltered from his hair, and although her legs were stiff, she did not protest… expect for the occasional shivering sobs.
 
He had to put his hands around her waist to lift her on top of the table, and she never acknowledged the shot Eddie injected into her arm.
 
The green stare began to waver, and Damon supported her back as he laid her onto the table just as she closed her eyes to unconsciousness.

“Do you think she’s too stupid to deal with this?
 
Shit, I’d hate to lose her to the facility,” Damon remarked.
 
Even in sleep, there was something about the girl.

“I would think the slight handicap would make her more willing and susceptible to pleasing,” Eddie answered.
 
He was searching his mind for answers when the back door to the clinic opened and Phillip walked in with a smile.

It left his face as he saw the girl lying unconscious on the examination table.
 
“What happened?
 
I pushed off a lunch date to watch the unveiling.”

Eddie looked at him.
 
“You feel it too, don’t you?
 
There’s something different about this one.”

Phillip ran a hand through his hair.
 
“I don’t know what I feel.
 
I keep seeing her eyes while she looked around the office.”
 
He looked up at Eddie.
 
“Yeah, Eddie, I feel it too.
 
Hell, I was halfway through the passage when I found myself trying to figure out if I should buy her myself.
 
I was trying to figure out a way to work it with Clarett.”

“We agreed…”

“I know.
 
I know, Eddie.
 
We can’t do that with our own contracts.”
 
Phillip reached out to wipe a tear off of Daria’s cheek.
 
“So, what happened?”

“She was about ten seconds away from never-never land,” Damon answered.
 
“I’ve never seen one retreat so quickly.
 
And I don’t think it was a ‘see ya for a little while’ thing, either.
 
She was in total meltdown.”
 
Damon looked up at Eddie.
 
“Shit, she only got as far as taking her dress off.
 
What the hell’s going to happen if we throw her into training?”

Phillip continued to wipe her tears, while Eddie sat down to think.
 
He finally looked up at Damon.
 
“If you weren’t restricted by level training… if you could work her any way that you wanted… do you think you could do it?”

Damon stared at Phillip’s hand while he caressed the girl’s face, and he found himself distracted from thinking about Eddie’s question… by a building feeling of anger and jealousy towards the lawyer.
 
What the fuck?
 
Damon stepped back as if he had been burned.
 
The girl was dangerous… there was also no way he was going to let anybody else touch her.
 
“Yeah, but I won’t be able to work her in the compound until I can get this under control.”
 
He nodded to the unconscious girl, indicating her current condition.