you slowly begin to seductively dance, shaking your hips as the audience stares in awe. with a small twirl and hair flip, you subtlety kick the hard point with the metal shackle on your ankle. the metallic clang isn't hear over the cheering of the audience.

==> Start dancing

you look down at your feet, and notice the bolt screwed into the wooden flooring holding your shackles in place is slightly loose after being pulled on all day. a devious idea comes to mind.

you give another twirl, now pulling on the bolt even more. its working. you think you can feel it becoming loose. almost...

you pull one more time, not even trying to hide your attempt behind a seductive dance. everyone can see you pulling, clearly attempt escape.

"uh oh," says the auctioneer, laughing and trying to play it off as a joke. "looks like this one's a bit feisty. hope you folks like a challenge"

the audience joins in her laughter. you flip them off, and pull again. you're not giving up without a fight.

the audience watches as you desperately try to pull yourself free. but the more you attempt, the more you realize that the bolt was never really loose to begin with. you put on a pathetic display of disobedience, and for nothing.

you feel tears begin to form. forget having one of those annoying guards come from backstage to beat you. you didn't even need to be punished to know how badly you screwed up. the only person who would buy a disobedient unruly slave like you is someone cruel and sadistic who enjoys a reason to beat his slaves.

"let's start at 50 thousand for the little disobedient mutt"

==> Cry

as the hands go up, you can't help but pull one last time in vain, before falling to your knees. you wish you didn't try and resist. if you had just looked sexy and obedient, maybe you would've gotten sold to someone nice.

maybe there's still a chance. you haven't been sold yet. you silently hope that whoever buys you is nice, and that your little escape attempt didn't ruin your chances for good.

"going once... going twice... sold! thank you very much! you can pick her up from her holding cell in the back."

the guard comes on stage, cuffs your hands behind your back, and releases your leg irons from the bolt. he gives it a solid kick with his steel toed boot, and you can clearly see it doesn't budge.

frustrated and full of regret, you look up, trying to catch a glimpse of your new owner. but you can't make anyone out.

anxiety builds as your dragged to a small cage backstage, and thrown inside. they don't even have the decency to undo your shackles.

you kneel, skin digging into the metal grate on the floor. footsteps approach. you slowly look up to see the face of your new owner.

describe their appearance. what do they look like? (man, woman, old, young, well dressed, plain) what do they say to you? are they kind and gentle, or cruel and sadistic? how do you respond?

you stand, hands cuffed behind your back, ankles bound in legirons, and neck tied with a rope to two girls in front of you and two behind. lots 36-40 wait in the back of the auction house, anxiety building in all of you as you know you're about to be sold.

"move it, sluts!" the man behind you shoves you hard. you almost loose balance, nearly falling and pulling the rest of the coffle to the ground with you.

some slaves are sobbing. others are trying to fight back to no avail, and are being whiped for their disobedience. it's a horrid sight to see, dozens of naked women and men being treated like livestock m

your mind wonders, recalling how you ended up here. as you do so, the men untie lot 36 and bring her to the stage.

your name is Ivy. you're 21. you lived with your shitty roommates, and struggled to pay rent. that was, until Jessica suggested you try being an escort. reluctantly, you take her advice. after a few weeks of earning money from camgirl sites and selling pictures online, you finally built up enough courage to try being an escort in real life.

but as you stood on the street corner, before you even got your first customer, a bag was placed over your head. strong hands grabbed your kicking screaming body. and it seemed like no one did anything to stop you from being dragged into the back of a van. you were kept somewhere else that night. some cold dark cell, seemingly far from the city you once called your home. you swear you could hear Jessica's laughter in the distance as you sat tied and gagged in that disgusting warehouse. eventually you were brought here, whipped and beaten until you finally complied, and told you were told you were to be sold as a slave.

in the time it takes you to remember the life you once had, its now your time to take the stage. the man who was shoving earlier you pulls you forward, locks your legirons to a bolt on the floor, and unlocks your handcuffs. despite your hands being free, you are still secured tightly to the floor. no chance of escaping.

"and this precious little flower," the auctioneer says in her overly cheerful voice, "just loves selling herself. i bet some of you have seen her nudes floating around. well forget buying pictures! why not just buy her?!"

your blood boils. you imagine every single one of these bastards dropping dead. but fear paralyzes you. the lights beam down on you, and you shiver as cold air rushes over your bare skin.

"come on, 38. give us a show!" she cheers. she looks at you. the entire crowd looks at you, anticipating your next move.

what do you do?

(okay this is the part where you leave your suggestions in the replies, asks, reblogs, or tags. after a while ill write the next section based on the most popular responses (or whatever my favorite is). the prompt will always be bold and italicized at the end. so for this one, its sort of a "do you look sexy for them, or do you fight back?" but feel free to get creative with it.