FIC: Sun Kissed (2/?)
Jul. 10th, 2006 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aislinn_veedorTitle: Sun Kissed (2/?)
Author: Vee017
Beta'd by:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
agentjedi Thank you ^_^
Genre: Romance
Setting: AU
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars I wouldn't still be a poor college student now would I?
Summary: Being on a world that supports slavery is one thing, buying a slave and bringing him into Republic space is entirely another. A/O Slash.
Title: Sun Kissed
Author: Vee017
Beta'd by:agentjedi Thank you ^_^
Genre: Romance
Setting: AU
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Being on a world that supports slavery is one thing, buying a slave and bringing him into Republic space is entirely another. A/O Slash.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter 2
The boy cursed as he was shoved inside the holding pen alongside a quarter of the slaves Kerr had previously owned.
He growled and shoved himself against the bars; it was no use, he knew they wouldn’t give but it was always something to do to vent his frustration against an unmovable object.
Anakin’s jaw clenched as the handlers banged their steel rods against the bars of the holding cells, counting down the minutes until the auction.
He hated auctions. Hated them with every part of his being. They brought back and forced him to remember the last time he was bought at one and the painful memories of losing the only person in the world that mattered.
It was how he lost his mother.
The pain and fear he had felt those nine years ago had long since turned to anger inside of him. For the slavers, the handlers, the buyers who had no use for a child.
The brothel he was eventually sold to.
And it was that very brothel that his owner had lost in a bet. But sleemo that he was, he had managed to get all of his pleasure slaves on the market. He may have lost his bordello, but Kerr would still make a final profit off of his slaves. He had, after all, only lost the brothel deed. Though Anakin highly doubted that the men Kerr had lost the sabacc match to thought the same thing.
Those were the rumours anyway, that the serving girls had relayed back to the slaved pleasure workers.
Anakin wiped the sweat from his forehead. Sweat and the sickly sweet scent of various perfumes fanned throughout the air of the slave holding cells, the heat made it rise and shift. Being locked in close quarters with a dozen people all crushed together made the temperature worse than it usually was.
Moving away from the cage bars, the boy made his way through the warm bodies and found himself a place against the cooler carved wall of the cell. His stomach tightened as the handlers shouted out the last call. The auction would be starting any minute. And soon they would all be led out onto the platform to be stared and jeered at. Catcalls and whistles, especially when their clothes were ripped from their backs…stripped and put on display like animals.
It was humiliating and the handlers knew it. They took every opportunity to run their hands over the body of the slave up for show. Bids and offers before you were finally hauled off stage and shoved into your own personal cage awaiting your new master to take you to Goddess knows where.
And there were only so many things he was good for. Anakin knew he’d be bought by either another brothel or be used as someone’s personal pleasure slave. There was no other use for a used whore. There were no other talents the buyers cared for. After all, why would he need any other talent when his trade was sex?
He clenched the frayed ends of his shirt and twisted violently -- it had always been a nervous habit of his. He might be sold to someone better than Kerr or to someone much, much worse.
Thoughts of Dejiak immediately came to mind as he shuddered. The taller man had on occasion offered to buy Anakin from Kerr. It was one of the only times the boy was glad for how many clients he brought into the brothel. Kerr’s greediness at the business Anakin generated had been the only thing that saved him from belonging to Dejiak.
He was also thankful for the rule against mutilating slaves even though he came out with deep cuts and bruises every time. Every part of him feeling like he’d had his skin peeled off slowly.
Dejiak was one of the few who liked to see him bleed and scream. The man brought nothing but pain with him, and if he was at the auction today…
Anakin shuddered again. Running away and having his head explode sounded better and better every time he thought about that fate. He tensed and hit his fist against the wall behind him. It would not happen. It couldn’t. And somewhere in his mind, despite the situation, there it was again; that weird feeling that always surrounded him, took hold to calm him. It had to be an angel: that warmth, the foresight, the things that sometimes moved on their own. Something had to be watching him, no matter how little, there had to be something there with him.
His thoughts were cut off abruptly as the handlers descended into the barracks with their rods and whips. The cell door was wrenched open and the first batch of slaves were corralled and led up the stairs at the end of the hall.
The anger that had become so familiar to him blocked out all feeling of calm as they were led out in groups to the platform.
Anakin stood his ground.
He wouldn’t go willingly onto the auction block. They would have to drag him kicking and screaming.
>>>
And drag him they did. Wrists crushed in a bruising force -- knees wiped out from under him. He cursed at them and lashed out as much as he could before they shoved him roughly onto his stomach and bound his hands behind him.
Why couldn’t Kerr have left him with the new brothel owners? The greedy son of a bitch. Anakin’s old clients would love to take him home now that he was available.
Struggling did him no use, but a well placed kick sent one of the handlers holding him tumbling once they were out on stage, the hit to the face was nearly worth it. It made his vision swim and thankfully blocked out the crowds, if even for a little while. The pain in his wrists from where he landed made the rope bite into his skin; he’d have even more bruises forming there.
Anakin grunted as he was hauled up and the shirt ripped clean from his back. He stood shirtless as prospective owners looked him with undisguised thoughts and desires etched clearly on their faces. Lust, interest, and on some disgust as his profession was announced. The shouts, the whistles…
Anakin glared out at the buyers and their leering, tormenting faces. He would give them nothing but defiance.
He hated every one of them.
Author: Vee017
Beta'd by:
agentjedi Thank you ^_^Genre: Romance
Setting: AU
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars I wouldn't still be a poor college student now would I?
Summary: Being on a world that supports slavery is one thing, buying a slave and bringing him into Republic space is entirely another. A/O Slash.
Title: Sun Kissed
Author: Vee017
Beta'd by:
agentjedi Thank you ^_^Genre: Romance
Setting: AU
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Being on a world that supports slavery is one thing, buying a slave and bringing him into Republic space is entirely another. A/O Slash.
Previous Chapters:
Chapter One
Chapter 2
The boy cursed as he was shoved inside the holding pen alongside a quarter of the slaves Kerr had previously owned.
He growled and shoved himself against the bars; it was no use, he knew they wouldn’t give but it was always something to do to vent his frustration against an unmovable object.
Anakin’s jaw clenched as the handlers banged their steel rods against the bars of the holding cells, counting down the minutes until the auction.
He hated auctions. Hated them with every part of his being. They brought back and forced him to remember the last time he was bought at one and the painful memories of losing the only person in the world that mattered.
It was how he lost his mother.
The pain and fear he had felt those nine years ago had long since turned to anger inside of him. For the slavers, the handlers, the buyers who had no use for a child.
The brothel he was eventually sold to.
And it was that very brothel that his owner had lost in a bet. But sleemo that he was, he had managed to get all of his pleasure slaves on the market. He may have lost his bordello, but Kerr would still make a final profit off of his slaves. He had, after all, only lost the brothel deed. Though Anakin highly doubted that the men Kerr had lost the sabacc match to thought the same thing.
Those were the rumours anyway, that the serving girls had relayed back to the slaved pleasure workers.
Anakin wiped the sweat from his forehead. Sweat and the sickly sweet scent of various perfumes fanned throughout the air of the slave holding cells, the heat made it rise and shift. Being locked in close quarters with a dozen people all crushed together made the temperature worse than it usually was.
Moving away from the cage bars, the boy made his way through the warm bodies and found himself a place against the cooler carved wall of the cell. His stomach tightened as the handlers shouted out the last call. The auction would be starting any minute. And soon they would all be led out onto the platform to be stared and jeered at. Catcalls and whistles, especially when their clothes were ripped from their backs…stripped and put on display like animals.
It was humiliating and the handlers knew it. They took every opportunity to run their hands over the body of the slave up for show. Bids and offers before you were finally hauled off stage and shoved into your own personal cage awaiting your new master to take you to Goddess knows where.
And there were only so many things he was good for. Anakin knew he’d be bought by either another brothel or be used as someone’s personal pleasure slave. There was no other use for a used whore. There were no other talents the buyers cared for. After all, why would he need any other talent when his trade was sex?
He clenched the frayed ends of his shirt and twisted violently -- it had always been a nervous habit of his. He might be sold to someone better than Kerr or to someone much, much worse.
Thoughts of Dejiak immediately came to mind as he shuddered. The taller man had on occasion offered to buy Anakin from Kerr. It was one of the only times the boy was glad for how many clients he brought into the brothel. Kerr’s greediness at the business Anakin generated had been the only thing that saved him from belonging to Dejiak.
He was also thankful for the rule against mutilating slaves even though he came out with deep cuts and bruises every time. Every part of him feeling like he’d had his skin peeled off slowly.
Dejiak was one of the few who liked to see him bleed and scream. The man brought nothing but pain with him, and if he was at the auction today…
Anakin shuddered again. Running away and having his head explode sounded better and better every time he thought about that fate. He tensed and hit his fist against the wall behind him. It would not happen. It couldn’t. And somewhere in his mind, despite the situation, there it was again; that weird feeling that always surrounded him, took hold to calm him. It had to be an angel: that warmth, the foresight, the things that sometimes moved on their own. Something had to be watching him, no matter how little, there had to be something there with him.
His thoughts were cut off abruptly as the handlers descended into the barracks with their rods and whips. The cell door was wrenched open and the first batch of slaves were corralled and led up the stairs at the end of the hall.
The anger that had become so familiar to him blocked out all feeling of calm as they were led out in groups to the platform.
Anakin stood his ground.
He wouldn’t go willingly onto the auction block. They would have to drag him kicking and screaming.
>>>
And drag him they did. Wrists crushed in a bruising force -- knees wiped out from under him. He cursed at them and lashed out as much as he could before they shoved him roughly onto his stomach and bound his hands behind him.
Why couldn’t Kerr have left him with the new brothel owners? The greedy son of a bitch. Anakin’s old clients would love to take him home now that he was available.
Struggling did him no use, but a well placed kick sent one of the handlers holding him tumbling once they were out on stage, the hit to the face was nearly worth it. It made his vision swim and thankfully blocked out the crowds, if even for a little while. The pain in his wrists from where he landed made the rope bite into his skin; he’d have even more bruises forming there.
Anakin grunted as he was hauled up and the shirt ripped clean from his back. He stood shirtless as prospective owners looked him with undisguised thoughts and desires etched clearly on their faces. Lust, interest, and on some disgust as his profession was announced. The shouts, the whistles…
Anakin glared out at the buyers and their leering, tormenting faces. He would give them nothing but defiance.
He hated every one of them.
