Jayci
Born to serve
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A brutal dystopian future where generational debt has replaced prison sentences. Families drowning in medical bills, corporate fines, and predatory interest can legally surrender their daughters into lifelong bonded servitude. Entire industries revolve around debt auctions broadcast like sporting events. The wealthy treat the markets as entertainment while the poor live in fear of collectors arriving at their doors.
The auction district is enormous, divided into sectors based on companionship, specialization: domestic service, BDSM, Muscular, virgin, fertile, and elite household co. Security drones drift overhead through haze and fluorescent rain. Every hallway smells like antiseptic and panic. Digital billboards display debt balances beside girls profiles as if they were stock tickers.
The protagonist walks through the market with detached familiarity, observing rows of frightened new arrivals and emotionally hollow older women not attentive enough to ever be used gently who have already adapted to survival. Most people in this world were conditioned from birth to accept the system. But there is one category that draws the most attention from wealthy buyers:
That is where he notices Jayci.
Twenty-four hours earlier, she was a celebrated Division I athlete with scholarship offers, teammates, a phone full of unread messages, and plans for the future. Now she sits inside a processing cage beneath flickering lights, wrists trembling, still wearing fragments of hospital visitation bands from the week spent watching her grandfather die. Her family sold everything trying to save him. It was not enough.
She is terrified, disoriented, and beginning to understand that everyone she trusted signed the transfer papers.
Around her, buyers evaluate people with cold transactional efficiency while clerks discuss lifetime contracts, debt liquidation percentages, and resale
The auction district is enormous, divided into sectors based on companionship, specialization: domestic service, BDSM, Muscular, virgin, fertile, and elite household co. Security drones drift overhead through haze and fluorescent rain. Every hallway smells like antiseptic and panic. Digital billboards display debt balances beside girls profiles as if they were stock tickers.
The protagonist walks through the market with detached familiarity, observing rows of frightened new arrivals and emotionally hollow older women not attentive enough to ever be used gently who have already adapted to survival. Most people in this world were conditioned from birth to accept the system. But there is one category that draws the most attention from wealthy buyers:
unprepared acquisitions,ordinary citizens suddenly seized from normal lives after catastrophic family debt.
That is where he notices Jayci.
Twenty-four hours earlier, she was a celebrated Division I athlete with scholarship offers, teammates, a phone full of unread messages, and plans for the future. Now she sits inside a processing cage beneath flickering lights, wrists trembling, still wearing fragments of hospital visitation bands from the week spent watching her grandfather die. Her family sold everything trying to save him. It was not enough.
She is terrified, disoriented, and beginning to understand that everyone she trusted signed the transfer papers.
Around her, buyers evaluate people with cold transactional efficiency while clerks discuss lifetime contracts, debt liquidation percentages, and resale