<strong>Name:</strong>Janisha<br/><strong>Location:</strong>On an auction block at the slave markets<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>No-one<br/><hr/><br/>She stood on her auction block, posed as she had been instructed. One hand was on her hip, and the heel of one foot was raised, creating an asymmetry that flowed upward through her body like the curve of a wisp of smoke rising on a calm day. The fingers of the arm that hung free were slightly lifted, delicately positioned with her pinkie raised slightly higher than the others, giving impression that the pose was not artificial, but merely a snapshot in time where her body’s natural motion had been captured. Her chin was raised, but her eyes were studiously down, to avoid meeting the eyes of any men, lest it offend them to be looked on by a mere slave.<br/><br/>Her posture might have caused her to be mistaken for a store mannequin, but for the gentle rise and fall of her bare breasts with each breath, and the occasional blink, and movement of her throat. As the auctioneer had ordered, she had seen to it that her dark brown nipples were aroused and erect – the better to catch the eye of a potential buyer, of course.<br/><br/>As she stood there, in that posture, with a very gentle breeze upward breeze from the auction block stirring her hair slightly – another way to entice potential buyers – her perfect brown skin lit artistically by the show lights, and her dark brown eyes sparkling carefully placed reflective lights, one might think that she would make for the perfect picture of womanly beauty and grace. But there was something not right about her... something that made her different from the other beauties arrayed on their own auction blocks around her. Despite her nudity, and her appealing posture, she radiated an aura of insolence.<br/><br/>It was subtle, very subtle. Everything was in the right place, but nothing was held quite right. While the other women strained with the effort of lifting their breasts and pressing them forward to magnify their size and perkiness, she made only a token gesture to do the same. While the other women tightly tensed their buttocks to give the impression of a firm and tight ass, she did not. She even made no effort to suck in her stomach, and instead let it rest in its natural position, which, compared to the efforts being made by the other women, made her look much less appealing.<br/><br/>And it was in her expression, too. She was smiling, of course, but her smile was ever-so-slightly strained, giving just the shadow of the impression that it was forced. Somehow, even while smiling, she had managed to purse her lips in a surly pout – indeed, that was a skill she was particularly proud of.<br/><br/>Because of all this, she had few interested buyers examine her, despite her physical beauty. A handful had approached, curious as to why this mediocre slave was placed in the same bidding block as so many top quality slaves, but once they read her profile in the display beside her, they came to the assumption that her value was as a secretary slave, not a pleasure slave, and few were looking for a secretary slave, so they moved on. Only one or two actually had her take other poses to examine her body in other configurations, touching and squeezing to see the quality of the flesh – one of them had stuck a finger in her, but he had done that for all the other slaves, too; she could not imagine what he was seeking. Only one had bothered to speak with her, and then only a few words.<br/><br/>She was crafty, and canny. She knew very well that she could not appear<em>too</em>sullen, surly or disobedient – that often attracted the wrong kind of master; the kind that enjoyed breaking a difficult slave. At the same time, she could not appear too pleasant, submissive or perky – her physical beauty easily matched the other slaves being sold around her, and if she presented too pretty a picture, she might find herself a mere pleasure slave.<br/><br/>No, it was a difficult and tricky balance. She had to appear just willing enough to avoid interesting sadists, and just unwilling enough to avoid interesting nymphomaniacs. She had to gauge the desires of each approaching man, and try to figure out what they wanted in a slave. Most, of course, just wanted a pussy to fuck. Such crude animals. Some wanted soft flesh to abuse. They were even lower than animals. But some wanted other things, such as a secretary to manage their affairs, or a matron to care for their home – still lowly tasks, but despite her pride she had been a slave most of her life, and she knew lowly tasks were what she was meant for. Menial work was not a bad life for a slave, and so long as as she did her duties well she would rarely, if ever, come to the notice of her master. She could stay invisible in the background, and live out her life in peace, doing such menial tasks. These tasks Janisha would do. And a master who intended for her such tasks, and had no other interest in her, this was the kind of master Jani sought.<br/><br/>All others, she warded away with her aura of misery.