Predator Made Prey

[TinyInconvenience]

She awoke to a blaring headache and a veil of darkness. She wanted to scratch the tiny puncture in her neck, but her hands wouldn't budge. In fact, most of her body wouldn't budge. It was hard to tell which parts of her were bound and which were just disobedient after the tranquilizer. Dim light shone through the small gaps in the twine of whatever bag was over her head, yet the only noises she could hear sounded like they were muffled behind a wall. An announcer, and shouting, and cheering. Was she going to have to fight? What did they have in store for her? She was left there alone with her thoughts, the noises, the ringing in her head, and the triumphant coppery taste in her mouth.

...

He took a wild shot with another dart, and with a thud, she fell to the ground. "BULLSEYE!", his bulky voice carried through the woods. "Think you just run away, huh? Think aga-". His gloating was quickly interrupted by his companion. "Do you really need to monologue every time we catch one?", he said and shrugged.
"The darts not instant, my friend. She still listen! Maybe she appreciate art more than you!"
"Suit yourself, but I'll write this on the report".
"Nobody read your stupid report"
"Not everyone is as illiterate as you"
"Not everyone want to die of boredom"
"Gah, my words are wasted on you"
"I assure you my words not wasted on her"
He pointed to the immobile young lady on the ground. "See? She enjoy so much!", he shouted, but either his companion couldn't hear him, or chose not to, as he quietly walked to the shade of a not-so-nearby oak.

"You big catch!", the man exclaimed, despite being right next to her, "Not many of you left. Ear like fox! Tail like fox!" He moved his hand to her face, "and GYAAGH". His companion quickly sprung into action seeing the prey escape. "AND FUCKING CUNNING LIKE FOX!" He clung onto his bloodied arm, reeling from the pain. "You absolute doof! Did you even check if the dart had hit!?" his companion barked. "Mister hindsight, she running while you try act smart! Go fetch!". His companion snatched the gun out of his hands and gave chase, leaving him writhing on the ground in pain.

Triumphantly, she wiped the blood from her lips as she weaved her way through the woods. She'd spent most of her life in this forest, there was no way Herr Illiterate and Captain Hindsight would be able to chase her. And lucky was that. Her legs felt weak and disobedient, and the bloody taste in her mouth had been there since before she bit into the hefty arm.

*BZMP!*

Yet, out of nowhere, there was a sudden puncture in her neck. Her legs felt heavier, her arms felt like a burden, she gravitated towards the ground with an eventual thump. Everything felt... so heavy. "That's a good girl", his voice was smooth yet had an identifiable crisp to it, like peanut butter. He put his hand close to her face. "You might fool that dunce", he whispered. There was a brief snapping sound as he withdrew his hand, "but you don't fool me". She weakly bared her fangs and growled at him, her eyes getting heavier and her vision blurring.

"There she is! I'm going show her how feels!", the bulky man shouted as he pulled back for a punch. A quick slap later, and the hand was rubbing his sore cheek instead. "Don't injure the merchandise, dimwit. I'm sure wherever she ends up will be revenge enough for you". With all her strength she put her arm in front of her, and with all her strength, she dragged herself along. Maybe if she... just tried... hard enough... she could... get... away...

...

She could hear the shouting get loud for a brief moment, then muffled again behind a shut door. "You will wish I kill you". A familiar rough voice. "Now is your turn! Lot of sick bastards this time! Returning children who broke favourite toy, looking for new one!" Even if she wasn't tied up, her body felt so weak. She felt his fist, probably the size of her head, wrap around her tied wrist. "If lucky, maybe become head on wall. Like trophy! Bwahaha!" His laughter was akin to a roar, causing the floor to shake ever so slightly.

The announcer's voice suddenly became clearer as she was pulled through what was presumably a door, followed by the muted whispers of a crowd. "And today, we also have a very exquisite item. You don't find many of these around anymore!" The item, obviously, was her, but even though she knew this, and what fate would befall her, she could barely put up a struggle against the bulky man holding her still. "Forgive my subjectiveness, but this one is also quite the steal. You'd be crazy to think as little as five digits- This one is a one of a kind!"

Something briefly touched her head, and suddenly, whatever had blocked her view vanished. Her vision, previously clouded by darkness, was replaced by a blinding light looking directly at her. Instinctively, she tried to cover her face, but her hands still wouldn't budge. Instead, her gaze was forced downward. At this point, she only briefly got to see the clothes she was wearing, before they were torn clean off and her body laid bare to the invisible crowd, which erupted into a cheer.

Numbers were shouted on top of one another, she could barely make out any of them, but the voice behind her was evidently selected for a reason. "I heard 20 grand! 25 grand! 50 grand! Do I hear 6 digits anywhere!" Her vision blurred, and her ears began to ring. The reality was starting to dawn upon her. It wasn't a nightmare, it wasn't a joke, it wasn't something she'd just get out of. If there was a god out there, it was not out there for her sake. Nobody would so much as miss her, she hadn't had the time to ensure that, nor the trust. Maybe there'd still be mercy for her. She had yet to make up her mind on whether she'd prefer a slow and painful death or a long and unbearable existence. Time would tell. "We're up at 500 grand, folks! Surely you'd pay more for her! You won't get this opportunity again! Do I hear 750?"

[gerberos]

It was just more of the same, he thought.

Even as they got to the "high value merchandise," it was just more of the same. They always started with the common finds that could only fetch a few grand. The orcesses of questionable attractiveness and the bunny girls that were as common as their name might suggest. They would always then slowly build up to rarer and rarer items to keep the big spenders in their seats. Yet even as things felt like they were reaching the climax, they were only just now trundling out the same cat girls and nymphs that he had seen dozens of times before. He started to feel out of place as the roar of the crowd refused to die down. He'd been here plenty of times before and had come to recognize a few regulars (although he had no interest in ever speaking to any of them) yet their appetite never seemed to die down like his was.

Appetite.

That was a good analogy. All these people saw demi-humans as food. Not in a literal sense (in the case of this analogy at least, it wasn't particularly uncommon for the last role of a slave to be as a meal), but rather in the sense that these slaves were something to be enjoyed, consumed, discarded, and forgotten. He was different. He appreciated his slavegirls the way others might appreciate works of art in a museum. These works of art were far more permanent than a meal, but the admiration of a work of art was also a transient thing. No matter how much a painting may resonate with you when you first lay eyes on it, it will eventually fade into meaningless scenery if you were to hang it in your home.

I suppose that's the appeal of museums, the man thought to himself. You get to appreciate the art, but you'll be left wanting more come closing time. The best you can do is come back the next day or take a souvenir home with you.

Souvenir...
At the thought, the man's hands tucked into his coat to feel his scale purse that was filled with more money than he knew what to do with. He took a breath as he felt the fur of his coat against the back of his neck. He supposed that this was his rich upbringing catching up with him. The king had passed the Demi-Human Rights Revocation Act long before he was born and he had grown up surrounded by the same sorts of slaves that were now being auctioned off in front of him. Of course he would grow bored! How could anyone maintain interest in anything if they were going to go on and on about "works of art" and other pretentious nonsense! At that moment, he wished that he could be just like everyone else in the crowd. He wished that he could feel satisfied simply buying bunny girls by the dozen and going through them like a child goes through a bag of candy.

"And today, we also have a very exquisite item. You don't find many of these around anymore! Forgive my subjectiveness, but this one is also quite the steal. You'd be crazy to think as little as five digits- This one is a one of a kind!"

He looked up, and to his surprise, the auctioneer couldn't have been more right.

As the bag was lifted off of the hapless girl's head and the rags she had been clothed in were torn away from her body, the man found himself joining in the raucous cheers of the crowd that he had been bemoaning only seconds ago. This was something new! In the course of his entire life that he had spent surrounded by demi-human slaves of all sorts, he had never seen a fox girl before. The man's heart started to race. This was something new to own. Something new to feel. Something new to play with. Something new to fuck. Something new to punish.

A work of art that I've never seen before.

His hands moving faster than his brain, he reached for the scale purse in his coat pocket.

"We're up at 500 grand, folks! Surely you'd pay more for her! You won't get this opportunity again! Do I hear 750?"
"1 million!"

With that exclamation the crowd fell silent, and heads turned to see who had offered to pay such an absurd sum. Big numbers were thrown around at this auction all the time, but the seven digit mark was one that most were afraid to cross almost out of principle. After all, who could pay that much for something as temporary as a pleasure slave? Yet here was this man, who had been sulking in the back of the audience mere moments ago, who was offering to pay an amount that many couldn't even dream of accruing over the course of their entire life.

"1 million! Folks, I can count the number of times that that sum has been reached at our auction on one hand! Does anyone dare to go over 1 million!"

The crowd simmered silently. Awe, jealousy, frustration, and a whole other mess of emotions stewed throughout the auction house. They were all completely unaware that this practically tangible atmosphere was merely the result of an impulse purchase being made by a man who had felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight of a demi-human slave for the first time in ages.

"Going once!"

"Going twice!"

"SOLD to the man in the back wearing the coat! With a payment like that sir, I implore you to come and confirm your purchase! Feel free to inspect her however you please!"
With an exaggerated gesture and a sly smile, the auctioneer beckoned the man up to the stage, stepping aside while the dazed and lethargic fox girl was shoved forward by the large and gruff man behind her. As he started to push his way through the crowd, the man's mind started to race. He could afford this. He was almost impossibly wealthy, but it was still an absurd amount of money to throw away on impulse. How was a fox girl any different from a cat girl? What could she possibly make him feel that he hasn't already felt? He would surely come to regret this. Yet he continued to make his way up the stage and started to take in the girl's features as he got a better view. Her eyes were glazed over yet brimming with tears. Even with the muscle relaxant that was clearly still present in her system, he could see her tense up as he got closer. A sparkling sheen of sweat covered her naked and trembling body as the lights from the stage continued to bear down on her.

As he approached his purchase and started to methodically inspect her, all inhibitions and doubts left his mind in an instant.