Author Information
Sold as a slave.
Folder:
prose Moonshild Flowergirl hustles down the sidewalk her mind in a fog, one idea clear in her head. Must..... get... drugs... She is on the verge of withdrawl when she spots him. Her dealer lounges casually against the corner of the building his eyes darting continuously about the street. She slows her pace knowing she cannot appear to eager or he will torment her because of her desperation. As she comes closer to him he turns and fades into the shadows of the alleyway. She slips into the darkness and holds her breath. Outside the alleyway people hustle past and the noise of the street obscures all sound from the alleyway. Moonchild waits chilled to her bones and shaking from head to toe with nerves. She can almost feel the presence of the drugs. She gasps a quick, sharp intake of breath. A small sinister chuckle is heard behind her as cold sharp metal is pressed to her throat.
"Got my money Bitch?" he snarls as he pulls her head back by her long hair.
She whimpers, "Please I need my drugs. I don't have and money for you bur I will do WHATEVER you want."
This is some very well written pose. You do very well letting the story tell itself.