Not for this price

At the end of the first day, many of my more attractive sisters were already gone. A customer would just go up to the small desk, talk to the breeders for a short while, hand them something and receive the key for the padlocks restraining the girl he wanted to buy in return. Then, he’d just take her away, never to be seen again.

By the evening of the second day, only about a dozen were left. Since the prices for the remaining ones (including me) were evidently too high, the breeders told the guards to lower the prices on our tags. I still couldn’t understand what the symbols meant and even if I could, I knew nothing about money, except that it was used for trade. But I overheard a guard saying that they couldn’t lower my price much more if they didn’t want to lose money. The thought that I wasn’t even worth the money that it had cost to raise me made me cry myself to sleep that night.

On the evening of the third and last day, I had already given up. There were barely any of my sisters left. I knew, that if I wasn’t sold today, and it was very unlikely that I would be, I would be transferred to be processed tomorrow. I didn’t know for sure what awaited me, but I was terribly afraid, and I couldn’t do anything about it. So I just lay there, sobbing quietly, my ears drooping low onto my head, my tail tugged under me. I had submitted to my fate.

The guards didn’t care either, there were barely any customers left, and they probably weren’t interested in buying such a faulty product like me anyways.

That was when he came in. He looked quite young, almost too young to be buying a ****. He was tall, even for a human, more than a head taller than me I estimated, with a lean but muscular body. He had short, dark hair and skin even lighter than mine, almost translucent and largely hidden under his plain, entirely black clothing. But that wasn’t why I noticed him.

So far, every human that came into our tent looked at me and my sisters with barely disguised lust, no matter whether they were male or female, old or young, buying one of us or not. But not this one. His piercing, pale blue eyes were not clouded with lust. Instead, they were hard and clear, focused, as if searching for a weakness to exploit. His gaze had something predatory.

And something within me reacted to that gaze. My feline instincts screamed at me that this wasn’t a male that I could seduce, that he didn’t simply want to mate with me, that he would eat me alive or maybe just kill me for the fun. I wanted to flee, to run away and hide from this predator that was so much bigger and stronger than my own soft, **** body. He was the first person to ever make me feel this way. And of course, he was also the first customer whose gaze I attracted.

His eyes were scanning the remaining girls before he found me. His gaze lingered on me, almost as if zooming in on my form, searching for possible means by which I could escape, and pleased as he found none. Lazily, he strolled towards me. I was prey.