The Akatsuki's Ginger Lord - Indefinite Hiatus

Chapter Six~

Gritting my teeth, I close my eyes and focus on sending massive hate towards a certain ginger lord. Something sharp cracks against my left shoulder and I jerk, head whirling around towards the director, who stalks around me like a panther closing in on a kill.

“Relax the tension in your face.” She barks, velvety voice slick and sharp. She waves the hard, blunt end of the whip in my face. “No one will bid for you if you look like you just bit into a lemon. Loosen up.”

I unclench my jaw, lest I be hit again, and fixate the old, porn-star-worthy woman with an unimpressed look.

Her hawk eyes scan over my body once more. “Bring me the clothing rack.”

Several dirt encrusted women bustle around behind her, scampering to comply with her order. A large rack is wheeled forward, stuffed full with an assortment of clothes hanging from old, wire hangers. It squeals to an unruly stop beside her and the director begins to sort through them. She pulls out a strange outfit.

I smile inwardly. Finally, clothes.

My fingers curl into fists. The director steps back and holds the strange cloth up to my bare body, dark eyes narrowing slightly. After a few moments of pure silence, she barks for one of the women behind her to dress me and steps back. The chosen one bustles around me, wrapping the cloth here, tucking it in there. She steps back after a few moments and a dirty brow lifts slightly.

The director shoves her out of the way, eyes scanning me over.

“Perfect.” She nods slightly to herself, forehead creasing.

Someone shouts. Everyone's attention drifts towards the small, wooden door in the corner of the small room, just in time for it to slam open. Marshmallow stomps into the room, disgusting gaze flickering over everyone. I grit my teeth again. The director smacks me slightly, reminding me of her instructions earlier, and I am barely able to relax the tension in my face. Marshmallow drifts forward, eye traveling all over my body.

“She is ready?” He doesn't break his eye-rape on me as he addresses the director.

“She needs some makeup-”

“No she doesn't.” Marshmallow grabs my chin and wrenches my face towards the director, the rough, scratchy skin of his chin rubbing against my neck, “Look at her. She's absolutely...erotic.”

The director frowns slightly, “But-”

“I believe she is ready.” Once again, the woman is cut off. “I have several interested clients coming tonight. They should be arriving within the hour. Do not touch her.”

Marshmallow nibbles on my neck.

It takes everything inside me not to lash out at him. Mentally, I chide myself. It's been four days since Kakuzu brought me to the brothel, four days since my clothes were ripped from my person. Luckily, I still walked away a virgin, but the Marshmallow had to be forcibly stopped.

Apparently, virgin's cost extra around here.

Nonetheless, by the time I was taken from the room and shown my new bed, which is a lovely square of tile in the back corner of a storage room with the lovely view of one of my roommate's pretty face, I'd already plotted my escape and revenge.

Shit was going to go down tonight.

The director lets out a clipped sigh, frowning in the direction of the door as it slams shut behind Marshmallow. She stares at it for a few moments, gathering her dignity, and then glances back towards me.

“You,” She nods towards the small bench pushed up against the wall, “Go sit. Someone find her some shoes.”

I step off the small mini-stage and glide over towards the bench. By the time I'm seated, one of the girls has a pair of glass heels near my feet.