Things had certainly changed, Joe mused, as he turned the corner onto 3rd Ave, now colloquially known as Slave Row. Ten years ago, when the new laws had been passed, the trade had been done out of sight; through the web or in plain, anonymous buildings with little to betray their stock in trade. Now though…

The old man paused, looking through the plate glass to the display inside. A pretty young redheaded girl stood in front of him, separated from the older man by the thin glass. She was completely naked, her gorgeous body on full display. Leather belts encircled the girl’s arms, legs and torso, strapping her to a metal pole, fixed to the floor. Another, wide belt, covered her mouth, holding in a gag. 

According to a sign at her feet, the girl’s name was Rebecca James, age 18. She was untrained and was being sold by her parents. That explained the straps, as well as the red flush on the girl’s pale cheeks, almost matching her fiery curls. Joe gave her a leering smile, chuckling as she cringed away. 

Sharing the display with Miss James were half a dozen other girls. Most were like her, untrained girls just turned 18. Most shared her expression of dismayed embarrassment, some looked scared, others angry. Some girls were being sold by their parents, others had gotten in some trouble which had landed them in bondage. It mattered little how they’d wound up on display, though. Their slavery was permanent. 

Joe reached the end of the display. A little further on, past the alley, was another building, another dealer and another display; more slaves, girls and women, naked and restrained. He eyed them all wistfully. But for a few thousand dollars, any one of these girls could be his…

The old man reached the end of the row, the last of the displays. As was his weekly habit, he silently picked out which of the girls he wanted most. Seeing her pretty face in his mind, he reached into his jacket pocket, taking out the scratch card he’d bought a little while ago and a penny. Every week, so far, he’d kept walking, back to his apartment, empty but for thoughts and imagination. But he kept hoping tonight he’d turn around and walk back to the display…

“Luck be a lady tonight…” He said and scratched the ticket…