Ahsoka Slave Costume Novels & Stories

“Go now!” The warriors charge from three different directions as Ahsoka uses her powers to control the water. The more I watch her fight the more impressed I am. The rogues scramble to get off the docks before Ahsoka drowns them giving Alpha Nicolai and I time to reach the yacht that is pulling away. Ahsoka is doing her best at preventing it from leaving but at the same time trying to not tip the boat over.

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…”

she said and we both laughed. It was my intention initially to make her my lady-in-waiting but I doubted this would sit well with Ghysem. It would have made her the first human slave but the problem with this was that Ghysem was not accepting of humans at all. I intended to make her so eventually but at a time when things were more settled in Ghysem. Cyrus' POV “This is ridiculous, Cyrus! Ridiculous! To be investigated by that… that… oh, it was so humiliating!” cried Lady Asher.

he would not be kind and gentle as it should be. I stopped at his knees and he took a deep breath. I wasn’t wearing much, the slave collar, and a white, silk, spaghetti strap gown that was practically see-through. I was told as the king's slave that undergarments weren’t allowed.. so obviously I don’t have those either. I was surprised when the maids handed me this..I’m a slave and it’s not proper slave attire, but apparently, the King requested it.

It remained orange. I knew it was Ares before he stepped into view and I rose my head from the pillow turning to look at him as he dropped his keys on the table just beside the desk. Ares looked deviously handsome in a dark suit, he wore a white shirt that was tightly fitted to his perfect body and I could see a peak of his pack tattoo at his neck. Long black cloak sat on his shoulders before falling to his ankles where black pants covered his strong legs that took long strides across the room before his eyes met mine.

"Don't worry, Your Majesty, I'll just take the cab instead. He should drive you to your destination." He didn't say anything after that. I gave the driver signal to go without me while I boarded a cab to take me to the pack house. With the way things were going, it seems the alpha was suddenly growing soft for the young slave. He seemed affected but tries to hide his emotions with aggressiveness. I feel sorry for Skylar though, she has faced so much from the people around her. She was living a life she didn't deserve, forced to become what she isn't against her own will.

“Yes, my Luna.” “Good,” she smirked, still sneering at me. “You can start packing your little belongings now to make it easier for you. Oh!,” She placed her hand against her lips. “I almost forgot. You are a slave. And slaves don’t have belongings. But since this used to be my chamber, I’m willing to be generous enough to offer you those worn-out clothes of mine in the wardrobe and closet. Pack them and get ready to say your last goodbyes.” I nodded almost reluctantly.

“I just need your help. We have a cause, and you could be of good use for us.” I don’t understand how I could be of good use to him. I’m just an omega, a slave, I have no way of being able to help them. He smiles at me as he leans against the wall and says, “I’ve heard through the grapevine that you are the Renegade Packs Alpha’s slave… is that true?” I don’t answer him and when I don’t respond his smile gets wider. He says, “You’re close to the Alpha which means you can get some insider information about the pack.”

A scent she couldn’t name, something that sent a chill down her spine. Two slave women were already inside, emotionless. The older one held a tiny piece of fabric, a sheer, short garment that covered almost nothing. "Dress her," the handler ordered, leaving the room laughing. Selene stepped back, growling. "Over my dead body." But they grabbed her. The slaves didn’t speak. They were fast, trained. Even though Selene kicked, shoved, and bit, they forced the outfit onto her. The so-called "clothing" was an insult, a thin-strapped thong and a top that barely covered her nipples. She was practically naked. Humiliated.

If I'm that far away, Rio can't find me, and Ryder will never perceive my shadows. Yes, I'm sailing to Nariah tonight. For now, I'll have to pretend like I'm still a part of them. I'll have to serve them one last time. That resolve encourages me to dress up in my usual slave outfit, a long, tattered, dark blue gown that brushes my ankles, worn over a worn-out white shirt and flipflops. I bunch my tangled, damp hair into a messy bun with shaky hands before getting a final look at myself in the mirror.