Page 88 of Owned (Office Intrigue Duet 8)
I was also lucky enough to talk to my sister, who’d evidently gotten a tour of her own. To my surprise, she’d been rather blasé about the whole thing. Why I thought she’d be rattled, I wasn’t sure. I should’ve known better. Braelyn was open-minded, something I’d tried to teach her growing up. That and she had a huge heart, always giving people the benefit of the doubt.
It hadn’t been until I’d asked her about Talon that she made an excuse to go back to her room. She probably didn’t realize it, but that had been an answer in itself. There was something going on between Braelyn and Talon. Part of me wanted to know what; the other wasn’t sure I could handle the truth. I trusted my sister, and I trusted Talon. Whatever was going on … it was for them to figure out.
At least, that was what I continued to tell myself.
After that, I’d returned to my villa. It hadn’t taken long before the silence began to grate, so I relocated to the main floor of the Owners’ Retreat, curious to watch the in-house possessions do their thing. They worked like a well-oiled machine, their chores clearly lined out for them. The place was spotless, almost obsessively so, which I took to mean they managed it well.
“You want to see what intake looks like?”
I glanced over, noticed Talon was approaching. I hadn’t heard him come in, which said I was getting too relaxed here.
“Intake?”
“We got a shipment delivered this morning.”
“Shipment?” I got to my feet. “Of … possessions?”
And if that didn’t sound weird.
“Three this time.”
Now, I’d heard and seen a lot of things in my life, but a shipment of people wasn’t something I was familiar with. Then again, this whole Owner/possession thing was new to me. But I wouldn’t deny I was interested in learning more about it.
“How often do they arrive?” I asked, falling into step with Talon.
“At minimum, once a month. I prefer they not send them one at a time, so they’re often held at one of the training facilities in the States until we’ve enough to warrant the cost associated with flying them here.”
“What happens to them once you’ve … taken possession?” I wasn’t sure whether that was the right way to phrase it or not.
“The training facility notifies me so I can do a check on their debts to ensure they’ve paid them off. Once they’ve gotten my final approval, they repeat all the blood tests and medical screening before they’re shipped here. Precaution, of course.”
Of course. I belonged to Dichotomy, so I understood the rigorous requirements when it came to safe sex. It only took one.
Talon headed down a long hallway leading toward the clinic I’d stayed in.
“They officially become possessions the moment they step onto the plane, which is also where they sign the contract. Once they do, they relinquish all their rights. From that point forward, their decisions belong solely to Owned, Incorporated until they’re placed. When they arrive, they’re delivered to the intake holds, secured, and monitored until I can check them in.”
“You, personally.”
“Yes.”
“I take it that means they don’t arrive if you’re not here.”
“Correct. Something you can imagine puts a kink in the process.”
I could see that. Everything relied on Talon’s availability, which, in my opinion, likely caused things to bottleneck if his schedule was full.
We stopped at the end of the corridor where there was a section of rooms. The doors were closed, blinds lifted on small windows allowing visibility inside.
I paused at the first window, peered in. The room wasn’t anything fancy. In fact, it wasn’t anything at all. The walls were white, as was the floor and the ceiling. A single fluorescent panel lit the space, highlighting the naked man—save for the dark brown blindfold covering his eyes—secured to the floor with dungeon irons shackling his ankles and wrists.
This particular male had a lean, compact body with skin the color of mocha. He had no hair on his head or his body, including between his legs.
When Talon stepped to the next room, I followed. This one housed a female with pale skin, a decent-sized rack tipped with pale pink nipples. She, too, was shackled to the floor, shaved bare from the neck down, her flame-red hair fanning out around her, an emerald-green blindfold covering her eyes.
The last room contained a white male with shaggy blond hair and a thin—almost too thin—physique. A royal-blue mask covered his face.
“The blindfold signifies eye color?” I guessed.
“It does.” Talon grinned. “Upon their arrival, they’re cataloged. Since they come to us with no names or other distinguishing information, we detail everything we can, right down to their most intimate measurements. Once we’ve got all the details, we enter it into the system, assign them a number, and microchip them.”
“Like an animal?”
