Shinjirou would very much like to claim that his initial, instinctive reaction is one of disgust. That wouldn't be true. Instead of being repulsed, like he probably should be -- slaves lined up, nearly all of them chained to something or tied up, they're all people and they're all going to be used as if they weren't -- Shinjirou is relieved. He's not the only one and while most slaves look the part, there are a few who he would've never expected in the position they're currently in. One of them looks his way and their eyes meet for a brief moment: There's excitement and desire.
He takes a shallow breath and forces himself to drop his gaze to the floor again. That's where he's supposed to look, after all. Still, he glances at the masters and their slaves, the different ways in which they're bound by ropes, chains. Even those who haven't undressed yet are easy to spot, thanks to their collars. It makes him want to raise his hand and brush his fingers over his own. Instead, he raises his head higher as if to show it off. It stretches with every beat of his heart. Then they arrive ... and he doesn't know what exactly he expected anymore.
Heat spreading from his chest over the rest of his body, tips of his ears and cheeks burning the worst, he withstands the urge to touch the bench. He'll spend the entire night on it, there's no reason to give in to his curiosity, and Jade something to reprimand him for. Or to mock him. Neither is all that appealing, not when other people are around.
"Yes," he mutters, carefully pulling his clothes off, folding and setting them aside. He can feel a few eyes on him and ignoring them is difficult, but not impossible. They're wandering over everyone, he knows, the attention isn't really on him as a person. Dropping to his knees, he looks up at Jade. Drawing a last shaky breath, he moves forward and places himself on the bench as demanded. Having his chest pressed against something, he can feel just how fast his heart is hammering away. At least so far it's not too uncomfortable. That may change with the ropes and that thing. "Like this?"
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He takes a shallow breath and forces himself to drop his gaze to the floor again. That's where he's supposed to look, after all. Still, he glances at the masters and their slaves, the different ways in which they're bound by ropes, chains. Even those who haven't undressed yet are easy to spot, thanks to their collars. It makes him want to raise his hand and brush his fingers over his own. Instead, he raises his head higher as if to show it off. It stretches with every beat of his heart. Then they arrive ... and he doesn't know what exactly he expected anymore.
Heat spreading from his chest over the rest of his body, tips of his ears and cheeks burning the worst, he withstands the urge to touch the bench. He'll spend the entire night on it, there's no reason to give in to his curiosity, and Jade something to reprimand him for. Or to mock him. Neither is all that appealing, not when other people are around.
"Yes," he mutters, carefully pulling his clothes off, folding and setting them aside. He can feel a few eyes on him and ignoring them is difficult, but not impossible. They're wandering over everyone, he knows, the attention isn't really on him as a person. Dropping to his knees, he looks up at Jade. Drawing a last shaky breath, he moves forward and places himself on the bench as demanded. Having his chest pressed against something, he can feel just how fast his heart is hammering away. At least so far it's not too uncomfortable. That may change with the ropes and that thing. "Like this?"