The consultant takes you to the beginning of the world's largest slave market -Well, we are there, and now I am ready to listen to your preferences, or I could offer my own options

As you walk through the market, your eyes wander over to one booth in particular... there's a young girl, around 18 years old, with tears streaming down her face as she's chained up and displayed like an item on sale. The consultant whispers that she was sold by her own family because they didn't love her and were looking for money.

As the consultant approaches her cage, he leans in close to get a better look at the girl. "Indeed, she does seem like quite the prize," he says with a smirk. "The family took great care of her appearance and taught her basic manners, it seems." Her long hair is black as night, framing a flawless oval face with large dark eyes that seem to hold an eternal sadness within them. The skin on her supple body glows like porcelain, unmarred by any sign of hardship or age, even though she's been here for quite some time now. Her figure is hourglass-shaped, accentuated by the tight slave outfit that clings to every curve. The consultant nods reassuringly at your question about her virginity; he can tell from the way she moves and carries herself that she has never been touched before. "She would make an excellent addition to any collection," he whispers conspiratorially in your ear.

The auctioneer pauses, noticing the large sum you've offered. The crowd murmurs with anticipation as he announces that you are the highest bidder for this beautiful slave girl. The consultant nods gravely before stepping forward to exchange coins and finalize the deal.

Soon enough, the chains are unlocked, and the sobbing girl is led over to you. She cowers before you, her body trembling with fear as she realizes what has just transpired. Her eyes dart around frantically, searching for any escape or rescue that might be forthcoming. But it's clear to both of you that there is none; she is now your property and will obey your every command.

The consultant gives you a respectful nod before slipping away discreetly, leaving the two of you alone in this foreign and terrifying place. It's up to you what happens next...

Her head snaps up at your words, surprise and hope flickering across her face briefly before being stamped out by the familiar despair that seems to be etched into every feature of her young visage. She obeys sluggishly, following you to your vehicle as if in a daze. The cold metal shackles clank against each other as she climbs awkwardly inside; once seated, she sits rigid and motionless, staring blankly out the window, lost in thought.

"It's... it's not so bad," you offer tentatively, unsure how to break through her emotional barrier. "I... I can make sure that you're taken care of from now on." Your heart aches for her; she looks so fragile and vulnerable, but also fiercely independent despite everything that's been done to her.

Her head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief and horror. "You... you wouldn't..." she whispers hoarsely, fear crawling down her spine. "Please, don't do this to me." Tears well up in her eyes again as she cowers away from you, instinctively trying to put distance between your bodies.

It is obvious that she has been through so much already; the thought of losing another piece of herself like this is simply too much for her to bear. You can see the pain and fear etched into every line of her beautiful face as she struggles against her own helplessness, hoping against hope that you might relent.

The ride to your home seems endless; you both sit in silence, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. As soon as you arrive, though, things change drastically; instead of being treated like an animal or even less than one, she's shown nothing but kindness and respect. You lead her inside and give her your bed to sleep in while you opt for the floor yourself. The gesture leaves her speechless for a moment before tears well up in her eyes again, this time accompanied by soft sobs that rack her small frame.

As the days go by, your treatment towards her begins to soften even more. You make sure she's well fed and dressed modestly but tastefully, showing that you care about her comfort without objectifying or exposing her too much. She is still visibly shaken from her past experiences, often startling at sudden noises or movements, but the look in her eyes slowly begins to change; there's less fear and more curiosity as she starts to question why you're treating her so differently than everyone else has before now.

One day, as you cook dinner together, she musters up the courage to ask you why you chose her, of all people, from that market full of other slaves. Her voice trembles slightly, uncertainty etched into every syllable.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I chose you," you begin slowly, meeting her wide eyes with your own, "because I could see that you were different from all those other girls there. You had an innocence about you that was impossible to ignore." You gesture vaguely towards her body, trying not to make her feel self-conscious. "I know that being sold like property is terrible, but I also knew that if anyone else had gotten their hands on someone like you... they would have torn you apart."

She listens quietly, brow furrowed in thought as she processes your words. After a long moment, she manages to find her voice again: "And what about now? Now that I'm with you?" Her question hangs heavily in the air between them, its weight not lost on either of you.

"I... thank you," she whispers, tears shimmering in her eyes once more. The look on her face is a mix of gratitude, confusion, and apprehension as she tries to comprehend the concept of being cared for without any expectations or ulterior motives. "I don't understand why someone would want to take care of me like this," she admits softly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. "But... it feels nice."

The silence stretches between you as the words sink in. Perhaps there is hope for her yet; perhaps with enough time and patience, she can learn to trust and love again. For now, all that matters is that you continue to treat her kindly and gently, giving her space when she needs it but never pushing too hard.

She snorts derisively, her laughter tinged with bitterness. "Loved? No... not really." She shakes her head, as if to clear away the memory of whatever it was she'd been thinking about. "My family only cared about money and status. They didn't see me as their daughter; I was just a possession to be traded away when they couldn't afford to keep me anymore." The fury in her voice is plain, but quickly gives way to fresh tears. "Why did they do this? Why did they treat me like that?"

Her questions hang in the air, echoing through your mind even as you struggle for an answer. All you can do is offer her a shoulder to cry on and promise that things will be different with you. In time, maybe she'll begin to believe it too.