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Yes Master (OnnaOtaku & MyNameIsNothing)

DontxBlinkk

DontxBlinkk

Supernova
Joined
Oct 18, 2009
Location
Canada
anime_slave_girl.jpg

Name: Sandra
Age: Unknown
Personality: Shy and greatly frightened of most things and people.
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"Sold!" The sound of the hammer slapped the small brown coaster-like object under it as the auctioneer called across the long, large and packed hall. It was the weekly slave auction and everyone that had the money was jamming the hall. Both men and women, boys and girls, were lined up on the long stage, bright lights shining on them to show off their every feature. A few had tears streaked down their cheeks as they watched their family members be taken away from them before their eyes. Others were watching the ground, just waiting for their turn to leave. Many of them had been in this position before, even on that stage before. They were ready for what was to come.

"Next is this brown-haired beauty!" he called as a brunette was tugged to the front of the stage. Her clothes were crisp and revealing, showing all the curves of her body and even the bruises scattering her legs. She was ready for this now. It was her second time so she was prepared. Bring on the torture...
 
Name:Terrance Clearwater
Age:24
Personality:Confident, business-like, overbearing at times
Appearance:
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Terrance stood there in a black suit, watching the auction from the back, his sunglasses reflecting the bright sunlight. He was not here so much for the slaves, it was more for the spectacle, the selling of humans to other humans was quite the thing to behold. While he could easily afford any of the slaves put up for auction, he saw no need to purchase one. The idea of his own personal slave intrigued him, though he never cared quite enough to pursue that interest.

He watched as a new slave was brought out on the stage, and he lifted the sunglasses for a better look. She was young, attractive, and perfectly proportioned. Her outfit hugged her curves well, and he suddenly felt a great interest in her. He wondered why she had caught his attention, but had no answer. However, he did know that he wanted to buy her. He waited for the auctioneer to get started. If he was going to buy her, he had to do it in a way that fit his status as head of a multi-million dollar corporation.
 
With a slam of the gavel once again, the auctioneer began to spit out numbers at top speed as the girl stood on the stage, her eyes slowly scanning the audience in front of her. She saw so many large men, not just height wise but waist wise also. The girl was certain that she didn't want a man like that to get her, but she also knew that she wouldn't have a choice. Quickly, her eyes grew as she noticed a large man who had just bet on her. Her silent begs began in her mind as she wished someone else would bet.
 
Terrance watched silently as various men bet on her, most of them sweaty, overweight perverts who just wanted a nice body to fondle. He, however, was not one of these filthy masses. He bided his time as the bidding went up and finally peaked at $55,000. The auctioneer was making his final calls when Terrance raised his hand and said in a clear, calm voice. "Five-hundred thousand." Silence filled the auction house as eyes turned to him, and people began to whisper, the chubby man he outbid frowning at him for a moment. The auctioneer called for a challenge, but no one here had that kind of money to throw around. For him, half a million was hardly even worth bothering with. As the auction continued, he walked around to the back to claim his new acquisition.
 
Sandra was quickly tugged off the stage by her tied hands and off to the side behind a counter-like table set up. The tall man held the rope tightly as they both waited for Terrance to arrive there.

"Pay up," the 'wrangler' hissed, pointing to a computer and a nerdy-looking man sitting behind it. He smiled towards the man and asked "How will you be paying for her?" he asked, taking one last look over Sandra before looking back to Terrance.
 
Terrance walked calmly back behind the stage, the bouncer letting him by to pick up his purchase. He pulled off his sunglasses as he approached the ugly man holding onto his new acquisition. He had a briefcase with him and placed it up onto the table. "I'll be paying cash." He said, opening the case to reveal neat rows of hundred dollar bills. "Now if you would be so kind, I believe she belongs to me now, and I do dislike my things being handled so roughly."
 
With a grunt from the man, he tugged on the rope, jerking the girl forward towards Terrance. Small tears quickly left her eyes as the pain shot though her wrists even without struggling. The man handed the rope to Terrance before turning around and starting back to his place for the next slave.

The man behind the counter smiled and took the money from him, quickly making sure it was all there. "Thank you," he told him kindly. "She's now yours for your use. We call her Sandra, but you may change her name if you'd like." The brunette was looking down, facing the ground, hoping that her new master wouldn't notice the hint of weakness.
 
He took the rope in his hand for a moment before whipping a butterfly knife out of his pocket and neatly cutting the ropes. "There, much better." He said. He put his arm around her shoulder and led her away from her sellers. "This way Miss Sandra, my car is just outside waiting for us." He led her gently through a pair of doors and into the overcast outside. In front of them was a limousine, though not an especially long one. A man in a chaufer's uniform held the door open for them and assisted Sandra into the car, shutting it when they were both inside. "They say they call you Sandra, but is that your real name?" he asked, speaking kindly.
 
The woman's body began to slowly shake as she watched the limousine in front of her. Never before, had she even been this close to a vehicle like this. The men that came out of them were always important men who never wanted to stand for her saddened looks or anything she thinks. Limos only brought anger and most often, pain. She lowered herself into the seat though and brushed a bit of hair from her face before she slowly looked around without looking at the man next to her.

To answer the question, she slowly nodded. "For as long as I can remember," she told him softly, her voice scratching against her throat like it hadn't been used except for tortured noises. "My last master had a few other names for me, but I was introduced to him as that."
 
Terrance listened to her speak, it sounded like her throat had become raw from yelling or screaming. "Well then I will call you Sandra for the time being. Would you like something to drink Sandra?" He opened a small fridge that had a few assorted drinks. "Please, choose whatever you want." She belonged to him now, but being his slave did not make her some sub-human. He planned on pampering her and treatng her like a princess when they arrived at his mansion. He had already called his home so that a room could be properly prepared for her. He planned on giving her as little reason as possible to dislike him.
 
The girl peeked into the fridge a bit before she slowly reached forward and grabbed a simple bottle of water. Her eyes slowly scanned it, reading over it before she opened it. Of course it was the best water money could buy. Why would she ever doubt that? She gently removed the top and took a small sip of it then closed it again. Slowly, she nodded. "Thank you master," she softly muttered, her voice sounding a little better then before but still injured.
 
He smiled no need to call me master, Mr. Clearwater will be just fine." He watched her silently for a few moments. "I take it you aren't used to being treated this well before?" he asked, though he could tell that just by looking at her. It seemed her previous owner had been a hard master. "Please, drink up." he said, encouraging her to drink more so her throat would be relieved.
 
Slowly, Sandra shook her head, still refusing to look up at her new owner. "I'm really not," she muttered before taking another small sip of the water. From there, she refused to speak anything more. She never was much for speaking even when she got the chance and never when she was around new people. They frightened her too much.
 
He nodded, noting her increased silence. "I understand. I hope that in time you will come to enjoy working for me. I don't plan on reselling you, whatever happens, so perhaps, one day you will be able to walk out of my home no longer bearing the title of 'slave'." If she had hope that one day she would be free, then perhaps she would be all the more willing to please him, in hopes that her actions would bring that day closer. He had every intention of keeping his word, but he wasn't going to just let her free after a year or two. He planned on holding onto her for a little while before ending her servitude. "So tell me Sandra, how old are you?"
 
The girl winced at the thought of being alone in the world. For longer then she can remember, Sandra had been enslaved and under someone's control. She couldn't even imagine being out on her own. How could she live? She didn't even know how to cook! Where does she get food? Those thoughts scared her.

She was quickly pulled back into the limo though as the next question came. "I'm..." she hesitated. How old was she? The last birthday party that she had was when she was much younger and people could barely call that a celebration. She got off of cleaning duty that day...

"I think...I was told that I was 20...a few years ago."
 
He nodded. "Well, once we get back to the house, we'll be able to find out for sure once we send in some DNA so we can find out about your age and make sure there is nothing genetically wrong. I'll also have my personal physician give you a check-up, don't worry, she is gentle." He held back a grin as he thought about the times she had been anything but gentle when they had been alone. "You'll also have you're own room and you're own clothes, you will live in luxury, waited on hand and foot, and only take orders from me, and those orders will be enjoyable."
 
Sandra slowly twisted the bottle in her hands as she took in the information and slowly nodded. But she dreaded some of it. What if she didn't enjoy living in 'luxury'? It would be far too odd for her in the beginning but...maybe she would get used to it. But his last comment unsettled her stomach a bit. 'Enjoyable,' she thought. 'For who, me or you?'
 
Just try and relax a bit, I'll be giving you a few days free so you can settle in and learn your way around my home." She would need it, considering the size of his house. He leaned back in his seat and enjoyed the ride. "So Sandra, what sort of things do you enjoy doing, do you have any hobbies?" He needed to find some way to connect to her in order to get her in a pleasant state of mind.
 
She paused to think before glancing along the floor slowly. "I...cook and clean," she started softly. "And I can listen...very well in fact." They weren't her hobbies but they were what she knew how to do. "I like...fabrics," she continued. "Silk...fleece...wool...cotton...I pick up what I can find and keep it...or I did."
 
He nodded and listened. The poor girl didn't even know how to have fun. "Well I'll make sure you learn how to enjoy things that are more than just chores, and as for cloth, you can have as much cloth as you like, whatever it is, its yours." He thought this might be his window of opportunity to getting her on his side. "Silks of every color, satin, the softest fleece you have ever held, all for you." He said, smiling at her.
 
Sandra couldn't help but look up at him. A small smile seemed to be tugging at her lips but she quickly bit the inside of them to stop it from arriving fully. Instead, she nodded her head slowly then looked away. "Thank you," she muttered and took a quick sip of the water, letting it rush over her throat. It really was helping her and she was so thankful for that.
 
He thought she smiled for a moment before it was lost in that sad expression, which was a shame, since she had a lovely smile. "When we get back, I'll have someone find out what kinds of cloth you would like, and they will bring them to you, and even teach you how to make clothes out of it if you want." He imagined her in a silk dress handmade by herself.
 
That idea intrigued her. To learn how to make a dress out of her own fabric would please her beyond thought. She silently agreed to that part of the conversation, the smile tugging once again but this time, she forgot to hold it back. "That would be alright," she squeezed out before she had to stop for another drink. The tickling feeling she had in her throat seemed to be getting a bit worse. But she would never dare show it.
 
He was glad to see an eager smile on her face, and even more pleased to see it stay there this time. She showed promise once he got her on his side. "Well when we get to the house, I'll have someone find out what kinds of cloth you want and by tomorrow you'll have more cloth than you will know what to do with." He was glad she was drinking more water to ease her throat. Once she had settled in and she had gotten enough gifts, then he would begin teaching her what services she would be preforming for him, and he would make sure she performed them.
 
Sandra slowly nodded as she leaned back against the seat slowly, as if she was just waiting to be yelled at and punished. But once her back touch the seat, her body slowly began to relax. He actually let her do something that she wanted. Maybe...he wouldn't be that after all.
 
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