<strong>Name:</strong>Janisha<br/><strong>Location:</strong>On an auction block at the slave markets<br/><strong>Tag:</strong>Matthew Loader<br/><hr/><br/>Warning bells screamed in her head as he approached, and they did not die down at his cursory examination of her. Jani could immediately see that this man was<em>smart</em>– she could see the sparkle of intelligence in his eyes even as he looked around with a bored expression – and that was<em>bad</em>, for her. Simple tricks and mind games would not work, and merely attempting them would probably earn her a whipping.<br/><br/>His boredom might work to her advantage, though – he seemed uninterested in purchasing a slave. Most likely he was just some bored, rich kid looking for a toy. That was good; she would not look like an interesting toy. There were far more beautiful women on sale around her, and they oozed with either desire to please or defiance – perfect for satisfying the needs of masters who wished just a willing fuck slave, or masters who wanted a pain slut.<br/><br/>That seemed to be the case, as he did little more than glance at her body, before returning his attention to his phone. Jani started to relax a little. But then, he lingered.<br/><br/>And then, to her shock, he not only addressed her, but he spoke to her in a way that suggested he knew more even than was on her displayed profile, and he hadn’t even glanced at it. Had he looked her up on his phone? If so, then what information might have about her.<br/><br/>Jani’s brain screamed that she was in trouble, and that she should be extremely cautious. This man was an enigma. He was a cypher to her; she could not read him. And he seemed to know a lot about her. She would have to be cautious.<br/><br/>Jani straightened up, clasping her hands demurely before her, and bowed respectfully. When she spoke, her voice was a melodic contralto. “Thank you, sir,” she said, as politely as she could fake, after he mentioned her background. She pretended that she had taken it as a compliment. She knew it was not.<br/><br/>“Please, sir,” she bowed again, “I am forbidden from discussing the details of my previous owners.” That much was true. Slaves – especially slaves who dealt with sensitive matters, and she was privy to many sensitive financial details of Atlas Dynamics from her first two masters – could not be permitted to speak of the details of previous masters. However, she was also avoiding his real question. She knew what he was really asking; somehow he had found out about her disciplinary problems, possibly via complaints from previous masters. Still, she could not fault her for answering the question he had asked, rather than the question he had meant. She was only a dumb slave; she merely did what she was told, and answered the specific questions she was asked.<br/><br/>“My previous master passed away,” she continued, keeping her chin up and eyes down. “And because he had not completed my registration, I was returned to public ownership. But that much is in the public record, sir.”