Disclaimer: don't own any part of Yu-gi-oh. Wish I did, though!
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"Get up, you piece of trash!"
Clair got up, even though she was aware it wasn't her being spoken to. It was Joey.
"I'm up, I'm up!" He hurriedly rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Master had the whip. "That is not how you talk to me!" He bellowed, laying the whip across Joey's bare chest. It left a red mark, nothing more. Their skin was hardened by this kind of treatment.
Joey was up in a flash, bowing on the ground at Master's feet. "Yes, Master. Sorry, Master!"
Clair felt sorry for her friend. He never seemed to be on Master's good side. She, on the other hand, was treated, if only slightly, less harshly. She still got the whip, but not half as hard.
'It's only my body they're after!' she reminded herself. She was thin, just the right skin tone, muscle size, chest size.
"Up, rise and shine, Maggots!" Master woke the other sixteen- and fifteen-year-olds. "Sales in three hours!"
Groaning from dread, Clair kneeled beside her cot, where she had the most privacy, and off her baggy T-shirt. She replaced it with a skin-tight piece of cloth that hardly covered enough of her chest for comfort. She replaced her skin-tight pants with a five-inch skirt made from the same material. Both new garments were especially stretchy so they'd fit any size. (I know this probably isn't what they'd wear, but she's not in Egypt yet, and this takes place in my own day and age *nods*)
She stood, and immediately was thankful for her amount of clothing. It was more than the boys got. The slaves got to somewhat clean themselves, so they'd be worth more. They got very little to eat, but didn't have to do much work.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Three hours later...
"15 from Tent 7!" the auctioneer called. The sales were already well underway.
Joey slowly climbed the few steps to the stage, stepping into the view of hundreds of people. Clair flashed him the thumbs-up sign and he seemed to relax a bit.
"Hm... may need to trim this ones hair a little..." he said, fingering Joeys blonde bangs. "But," he continued, "What he lacks in looks, he makes up in skill. Give'em a piece of food or show'em the whip, and he'll work sunup to sundown!" The man took a breath. "Who will take on this'n?"
Joey was soon sold, although for less than the mater had wanted. 16 went up and sold for less than Joey, but he was thinner and didn't have as much muscle or skill. Master still looked ready to kill.
"17, up!"
Clair made her way forward and stood against the slate of wood in front of the crowd. The auctioneer pointed out the finer points of her body as the slave ignored him and watched a herd of horses just past the crowd. It had been a long time since the slaves of Tent 7 were conscious about their bodies. Of all the horses in from the range, gathered around the circle of bidders, one stallion stood out from the rest. He had a coal- black coat that stood out like a black gem in white sand. Stormy.
She was sold and, from the look on Masters face, for a lot more than he'd dared hope.
The man that walked up to claim her had tan skin and light hair. His eyes were different from any man's Clair had met before; deep purple, hard yet not cold. His neck was covered in what looked like a gold choker. He carried a rod with a golden eye settled on top.
She went with him even as he bound her hands with a thick rope. She knew it was useless to fight an owner, any owner. And he seemed interesting in a dark, dangerous way.
He didn't stay for the rest of the slave sale, which was odd since most buyers stayed for more. When Clair asked bout this, he said he'd gotten what he'd come for and added, "It would be wise for you to remain silent. At least till you are spoken to."
"Yes, Sir."
He turned to her. "Call me Master, or even Malik, just not 'Sir.'" She nodded and kept silent.
They walked to the group of horses. "Which one is yours?" But the black stallion answered for her by trotting up and nuzzling her. "This one?"
"Yes, Master. This is Stormy."
He nodded, looking the young black horse over. Then he mounted his own, a dark bay, and walked off.
Stormy knelt, allowing Clair to climb on since her hands were still tied. Malik looked back, and his expression told her he'd expected her to walk. He didn't say so as she caught up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~End
Please review! *nods* you'd better, or else I shall be forced to sick Stormy on you!!! Believe me, you don't want that! Seriously, though. I can find you, I know what EVERYONE did last summer!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Ok, that wasn't 'serious' but you get the picture. REVIEW!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Get up, you piece of trash!"
Clair got up, even though she was aware it wasn't her being spoken to. It was Joey.
"I'm up, I'm up!" He hurriedly rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Master had the whip. "That is not how you talk to me!" He bellowed, laying the whip across Joey's bare chest. It left a red mark, nothing more. Their skin was hardened by this kind of treatment.
Joey was up in a flash, bowing on the ground at Master's feet. "Yes, Master. Sorry, Master!"
Clair felt sorry for her friend. He never seemed to be on Master's good side. She, on the other hand, was treated, if only slightly, less harshly. She still got the whip, but not half as hard.
'It's only my body they're after!' she reminded herself. She was thin, just the right skin tone, muscle size, chest size.
"Up, rise and shine, Maggots!" Master woke the other sixteen- and fifteen-year-olds. "Sales in three hours!"
Groaning from dread, Clair kneeled beside her cot, where she had the most privacy, and off her baggy T-shirt. She replaced it with a skin-tight piece of cloth that hardly covered enough of her chest for comfort. She replaced her skin-tight pants with a five-inch skirt made from the same material. Both new garments were especially stretchy so they'd fit any size. (I know this probably isn't what they'd wear, but she's not in Egypt yet, and this takes place in my own day and age *nods*)
She stood, and immediately was thankful for her amount of clothing. It was more than the boys got. The slaves got to somewhat clean themselves, so they'd be worth more. They got very little to eat, but didn't have to do much work.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Three hours later...
"15 from Tent 7!" the auctioneer called. The sales were already well underway.
Joey slowly climbed the few steps to the stage, stepping into the view of hundreds of people. Clair flashed him the thumbs-up sign and he seemed to relax a bit.
"Hm... may need to trim this ones hair a little..." he said, fingering Joeys blonde bangs. "But," he continued, "What he lacks in looks, he makes up in skill. Give'em a piece of food or show'em the whip, and he'll work sunup to sundown!" The man took a breath. "Who will take on this'n?"
Joey was soon sold, although for less than the mater had wanted. 16 went up and sold for less than Joey, but he was thinner and didn't have as much muscle or skill. Master still looked ready to kill.
"17, up!"
Clair made her way forward and stood against the slate of wood in front of the crowd. The auctioneer pointed out the finer points of her body as the slave ignored him and watched a herd of horses just past the crowd. It had been a long time since the slaves of Tent 7 were conscious about their bodies. Of all the horses in from the range, gathered around the circle of bidders, one stallion stood out from the rest. He had a coal- black coat that stood out like a black gem in white sand. Stormy.
She was sold and, from the look on Masters face, for a lot more than he'd dared hope.
The man that walked up to claim her had tan skin and light hair. His eyes were different from any man's Clair had met before; deep purple, hard yet not cold. His neck was covered in what looked like a gold choker. He carried a rod with a golden eye settled on top.
She went with him even as he bound her hands with a thick rope. She knew it was useless to fight an owner, any owner. And he seemed interesting in a dark, dangerous way.
He didn't stay for the rest of the slave sale, which was odd since most buyers stayed for more. When Clair asked bout this, he said he'd gotten what he'd come for and added, "It would be wise for you to remain silent. At least till you are spoken to."
"Yes, Sir."
He turned to her. "Call me Master, or even Malik, just not 'Sir.'" She nodded and kept silent.
They walked to the group of horses. "Which one is yours?" But the black stallion answered for her by trotting up and nuzzling her. "This one?"
"Yes, Master. This is Stormy."
He nodded, looking the young black horse over. Then he mounted his own, a dark bay, and walked off.
Stormy knelt, allowing Clair to climb on since her hands were still tied. Malik looked back, and his expression told her he'd expected her to walk. He didn't say so as she caught up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~End
Please review! *nods* you'd better, or else I shall be forced to sick Stormy on you!!! Believe me, you don't want that! Seriously, though. I can find you, I know what EVERYONE did last summer!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH
Ok, that wasn't 'serious' but you get the picture. REVIEW!