She keeps her head up, her face calm, almost serene, her back arched to show all of her young charms to the men that walk in front of her, hoping to catch their gaze and interest.
Long gone was the desire to cover her body, the animal hostility towards the ones who wished to sample her before purchasing. Long gone was her pride and hopes of escaping by her own power.
Although the life of a slave had not broken her mind like it had done with many of the other girls there, it had taught her the meaning of despair, of fear. Every day she wasn't bought she would return to the dungeon, to the darkness where the only things were the whip and the chains.
As another man walked close her hands moved over her bossom as she did her best to appear appealing, hoping this one would take her away, rescue her from her torment, regardless if it was just because of lust.
For that, she knew she would do anything. To escape the cold stone and chains and the cruelty of her captors. Anything.
Commission! Sorry for the lack of activity, I had hurt my drawing arm so I was out of bussiness!