=> Presentation of Slave number 1.
Being blindfolded and forced to kneel in front of a crowd was one thing, but being sold? The thought made Sollux burn inside. He seethed inwardly, eyes narrowing behind his blindfold when he heard a voice name a price. He sounded like a pompous prick.
“Sold!” The word felt like a knife, driving into Sollux’s thinkpan without mercy. He was a living, breathing troll, not a toy for a piece of shit highblood. He lurched to his feet, fangs bared, growling and lunging for the nearest voice he could hear.
He was stopped by a strong pair of hands on his shoulders, preventing him from moving forward. So, he threw himself back, the troll holding him not anticipating the action and falling to the ground beneath Sollux.
The yellowblood scrambled to his feet once again, only to be hit in the head with something large. And hard. A rock?
It didn’t matter. He fell to his knees, eyes squeezing shut at the pain. This enabled some trolls to remove him from the stage, out of sight to await his new master.
The sounds of struggle became clearer and the sight of the yellowblood grew nearer, making the corners of your black lips curl wickedly. It wouldn’t be much longer till he was in your hands.
Stopping before you, you let your violet eyes trail over the slave, inspecting every inch of his thin body for any sort of defects. Settling for anything less than perfect just isn’t your style. You give the men handling the slave a curt nod, letting them know you are satisfied. Just as one of them reaches off to take off the blindfold, you quickly cut him off.
“Leavve it,” you say gruffly. You don’t want your new slave for the week to know where he is going, in case he decides to run off. ”Bind hinds, behind his back,” you instruct, reaching into your pocket. As the men are busy restricting the yellowblooded troll, you snugly wrap the collar you had brought with you around his neck and hook the on the leash.
“That’ll do,” you say to the men, sending them off. It’s just you and the slave now. At last. Tugging harshly on the leash, you pull him close, your lips brushing softly against his ear. ”Come along noww, pet,” you whisper menacingly. ”Wwe havve things to do.”