Ahsoka Slave Costume Novels & Stories

They are in their formal attires with good grooming, some with heavy make-ups on their faces. Clive had a low-profile. He wore a black suit with a matching striped necktie, combed his hair a little and wore his shiny-black shoes. Celeste, on the other hand, wore a navy blue, full-length, turtle neck, sleeveless gown fitted perfectly to her body curves, matched by a silver high-heeled pumps. Clive was astounded when he saw Celeste. She is a goddess sent from heaven. She wore light make-up, enough to show her dark-brown eyes with long-lashes and blushing cheeks.

Even though he had rejected me, and I went through the pain of that rejection, I could still feel his presence in the castle. “Do you feel up to fitting? I really would like to get you out of those clothes as soon as possible.” She looked positively disgusted by what I was wearing and I realized that she probably hadn’t seen what the slaves were wearing when they arrived. I got out of the wheelchair again and dizziness enveloped me as I took a deep breath to steady myself.

A hand slips under my chin forcing me to look at the person. My breath hitches as I lay eyes on a teenage wolf about fifteen if I were to guess. His black hair is cut in crew cut style, his midnight blue eyes take me in. He’s dressed nicely in black slacks and a black short-sleeve button-down shirt. He has an authority that I wouldn't expect from someone his age. “How much is this one?” He asks the slave trader. “I’ll give you a good deal, Alpha.” The slaver replies. “I don’t really care for deals, tell me how much she costs.”

The women all look ahead, some pressing up to the bamboo to watch the spectacle unfold. Sashawna pushes to the front, brown eyes gleaming with concern. She watches as BASAM ALI exits the back, wearing a solid white Agbada, which stands out in the warm lights and the black his mercenaries wear. — MARCH 23, 2013 | 1:10pm - INT. SLATER'S MECHANICAL WORKS - OFFICE. DAY.

I said, watching her as she fetched a glass of water for me to drink. Anastacia was already getting comfortable around her. But nobody knew more than me, not to trust anybody. She showed me around the rooms, before handing me a white and black gown and an apron. “What is this?” I asked her immediately. She cocked an eyebrow. “Your slave uniform. Or have you forgotten what the Alpha said?” I swallowed hard and took the dress from her. Now that I was in their place, I saw what they went through. The fact that nobody looked at them. I wondered if Alice had ever served me drinks.

He was still hurt, and giving Trix the silent treatment. She pat down her uncomfortable outfit that reminded her of Katara from Avatar but fire nation style. She wore black baggy pants that were pushed closer to her skin at her ankle by her boots. The red, cotton dress like clothing that covered her upper half fell pass her knee and hugged her upper body. It had two high slits on either side and a small black leather armor of sorts over it. That all was paired with a belt that was designated for her weapons. The sight of it sent shivers down her spine. “Fear not, much less equip as you have gone and return,” Lord Kys said as he approached the wide eyed girl.

Ronan looked at Alpha closely and understood that even Alpha wanted to get over that woman but for some reason, did not want to end her life at this very moment. Ronan relaxed its muscle which it had already braced to inflict torture on Cindy and casually looked at Ash who, once meeting eyes with Ronan, purportedly placed one of his feet on top of the dead body of Benjamin. It did so in quest of teasing Ronan on missing out on a chance of killing a human and encouraged Ronan through his act to advance in its pursuit. Both Ronan and Ash very well knew that Alpha was not being too serious on having Cindy captive in the house and wanted her to die.

My mind was consumed by questions, doubts, and a profound sense of unease. Lost in my own troubled thoughts, I was startled when a knock resounded on the door. Slowly, I opened it, finding one of the pack slaves standing before me, holding out a simple attire worn by the others. The garment seemed to serve as a stark reminder of my new reality, a visual representation of the division between me and the rest of the pack. It was the attire usually worn by the slaves during training. "You're to put this on and join us in training by noon."

I want my freedom. Head kept a bit low to the ground, we head back to the warehouse. I wait outside until Terren shifts back to human form to get some clothes for me and him. He had Fione and that male 'guard' me outside, but they just sat next to me and said nothing. Terren came back and threw a plain white sleeveless dress at me. Seriously? Of all the clothes that could probably be found in this huge mansion of a place they call home, he chose this one?

He was wearing a hikitate-eboshi (black bird) hat and a gray battle surcoat. “The quartermaster is named Kosano. I believe Sasha fought him and managed to drop him overboard. He wields a pair of tonfas because he used to be martial arts police. He became corrupt and decided to give up his marshal’s star for gold. Now he runs most of the slave trade operations in the south. He’s from there and an earth Slayer. He’s dark-skinned, wears a bandana on his head and, if you look closely, you’ll find he’s missing a pinky…”