She was seated in front of a bracket.She was seated in front of a bracket. By craning her neck, she caught a glimpse of the number. Thirteen, of course. With the luck on this run, she would be put in the troublemaker's spot. Janesse had drawn approval from the sailors. She had voluntarily stripped, knowing it would be easier, and her slender form was now under perusal. "Are you a virgin?" the captain asked. "Not since I was twenty," she replied. "A late bloomer," one of the crew whispered, with a chuckle. Having caught his remark, she answered, "No sir, merely an elven quarter-blood. Unlike my mother, I am not ashamed of my heritage." The captain drew back her unbound hair. The ears were pointed. "Aye, a good price for this pretty. She's on the older side, but there are those who like experienced women." The implication was clear. "Yes, sir," Janesse replied, seeing a possible way to avoid his attentions, "and I'm one." The captain looked at her for a moment and laughed. "We'll cure you of that, love. Take her down." Janesse was locked to bracket fourteen, a good place on the line-up. Number fourteen was what was called the influence spot. This was one of the better behaved slaves who had been put next to the troublemaker in hopes of having a good influence. Brianna had fought being stripped and when her clothing was off, the captain saw why. The lass was on the heavy side, and not as well-formed as he had thought. |