Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Nerima's Newest Slave ( Chapter 14 )

This was originally published by me under the name Anduril at Anime Addventures, with the only changes being a few corrections in spelling, punctuation and the occasional word choice. If you like the beginning of my story but think I've gone off the rails, or have your own ideas for a great branch-off, or think I'm taking too long to update and want to continue the story yourself, come to Anime Addventures and join in the fun!

I claim no ownership rights to any of the works of Rumiko Takahashi.

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Ranma stepped out of the armored van and strode through the doors of the slave center, face set in stone, ignoring the two guards towering over her. At a desk behind a bulletproof glass wall, a man typing away on a keyboard glanced up, then pressed a button to the side. “Yes?” he asked through an intercom.

“Tendo Ranko, for full use processing,” responded one of the two men, and the man behind the glass nodded and began to type.

“Room 38, right hand door,” he said after a few moments, hitting another button without looking up. To the right, a door clicked and slowly opened.

Ranma strode through the door and down the hallway on the other side, then paused as the random room numbering registered. Without saying a word, one of her escorts took the lead, the other motioning Ranma ahead and falling in behind.

Twenty minutes and a number of turns later, a now thoroughly lost Ranma stepped into Room 38 and looked around. At a desk, a young, pretty, dark-haired woman in a lab coat looked up. “Ranko?” she asked coolly, then when Ranma nodded said, “Respond to all questions verbally.”

“Yes, I'm Tendo Ranko,” Ranma said, and the woman nodded and typed something on the keyboard built into the desktop in front of her, then stood and walked around the desk as the two guards stepped up beside her.

“No, you are Ranko — for the duration of your enslavement, the only other names you will have are whatever your masters or mistresses give you. Remove your clothing,” she instructed, pulling a latex glove out of a pocket and pulling it on. Ranma removed her usual red shirt and black pants, and stood in plain bra and panties (purchased that morning when she realized the only feminine underwear she had was the lacy lingerie her mother had purchased for her when she'd been pretending to be Tendo Ranko). The woman gave an exasperated sigh. “All your clothes,” she said, and Ranma slowly complied.

“What are ya gonna do?” she asked in a determinedly even tone as she added the underwear to the pile and again stood up, forcing herself not to cover her breasts and crotch.

“Speak only when spoken to,” the woman said. “Widen your stance and stare at the wall.”

Ranma did so, then gasped as the woman crouched and reached up between her legs, slowly shoving several fingers up into her. After a moment, the woman stood up again. “Very good, now bend over and grab your ankles,” she instructed. Ranma did so, this time managing not to react to the feeling of a finger probing up into her ass. “Very good,” the woman repeated as she walked around to her desk, pulling off the glove and dropping it into a garbage receptacle, the guards taking up positions on each side of the desk.

Ranma straightened and turned toward her clothes, only to find them gone. Turning back to the desk, she found a faint smirk on the other woman's face. “You won't be needing those,” the woman told her, “we'll give you what clothes you need when you need them.

“Now, spread your stance, clasp your hands behind your back, and stare at the wall over my head.” Ranma complied, and the two men whistled in appreciation, taking full advantage of the view as her breasts were pushed up and out and her spread legs gave a clear view of her nether lips.

“That will be your stance at the auction, so remember it,” the woman said. “Now, I have a series of questions. It is very much in your best interest to answer them truthfully; it will make the process of Adjusting you more efficient, and therefore your experience as a slave more pleasant.

“First, are you a virgin?”

“No,” Ranma answered shortly.

“What is your sexual orientation?”

“Lesbian.”

“Have you ever slept with a man?”

“No.”

“Do you wish to be sterilized for the length of your enslavement?”

“Hells, yes!”

Eventually, the questions ended, and the woman sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Very well, we are done here. Your minders will take you where you need to go.”

The guards left their positions by the desk, one heading for the door and the other waving Ranma ahead of him. “Go ahead, Meat,” he ordered brusquely, leering down at the red-haired girl.

Ranma froze for a moment, stomping on a rush of anger, then jolted when the guard reached over and roughly squeezed a breast.

“I said, go ahead, Meat!” he said more loudly, then stiffened and took a step back at the sight of the need to kill burning in Ranma's eyes as she turned to look at him. She stared at him for a long moment, then silently turned and walked through the open door, ignoring the now sweating guard that followed her out and closed the door behind them, falling in behind Ranma and his partner as they walked down the hall.

 

Back in the room they'd just left, Noriko Kotara collapsed back into her seat and stared at her suddenly shaking hands, breaking out in a cold sweat. I don't care how much this job pays, I am notgoing through that again! she thought as she fought to bring her hands under control. It took her several minutes, but finally she was able to finish typing in her report, hit `send', then brought up the network phone list. Seconds later, her screen sub-divided to make room for the image of a young man of typical Japanese appearance. “Good afternoon, Noguchi-san,” she said, and Noguchi nodded acknowledgment.

“Noriko-kun, a good afternoon to you. I take it that you've completed the prep work for Ranko?”

“Noriko grimaced. “Yes, the questionnaire is on its way to you right now. But I'm afraid that questionnaire is all that's come out of it. If Ranm — if Ranko is feeling weak, helpless, and humiliated she's hiding it remarkably well. If anything, the procedure may have made it harder for you — she intimidated one of the guards with just a look on her way out.”

Noguchi sighed, then shrugged. “I was afraid something like that might happen, but higher-ups decided against my suggestion that we skip the usual preliminaries. I'll just have to make do. Thanks for the heads up.” Then a slight chime sounded over the link, and he glanced to the side slightly. “And there's your report, thank you. Hopefully, your next interview won't be as exciting.”

“Ranko was the only full service slave for the day, thank all the kami,” Noriko said with heartfelt sincerity. “And the next will be here in a few minutes, I'd better get reviewing his record. Good luck with Ranko.”

“Thanks, I may need it,” Noguchi replied, then his field vanished from Noriko's screen, and with a sigh she brought up the record of her next processee.

 

As Noriko's image vanished from his monitor, Noguchi Susumu brought up the questionnaire she'd just sent him and hummed softly to himself as he ran through it, finally nodding. “No surprises, except perhaps that she isn't a virgin — unless she was lying about that, a lot of men do,” he mused. “It's as you said, Egami-sama.”

Standing to the side, out of view of the monitor's camera, a completely nondescript man — so ordinary-looking that waitresses had difficulty remembering his face from one day to the next — nodded firmly. “Good. So, you remember your instructions?”

“I'm hardly likely to forget orders from one of the Emperor's Hands,” Susumu said wryly as he stood up. “Perform the Adjustment as usual, but report to you before submitting my report to the auction master. I should be back within the hour.”

He added, “I'm really not looking forward to this.”

“You're hardly the only one less than happy with this fucked up mess,” Egami replied, “and at least you aren't Ranma.”

“There is that,” Susumu agreed with a grimace, then bowed and left.