I growled and sat huddled in the small, suffocating glass tube, trapped in this hell hole where I'd eventually be sold to a man to be used for his own sexual pleasure. I slammed my fists against the glass repeatedly, not caring about the pain it caused my already battered hands. I was already scarred and bruised beyond belief. The things they'd done left me both embarrassed and enraged.

They put up a sign that said I was "untamed," and I smirked, knowing that was a huge turn off to buyers. The day was ending and I slumped in my container, one of the last few girls left unbought. Then a finely dressed man strolled in with his hands in his pockets. I glared at his overconfident attitude as he approached my case, meeting his smug smile with a fierce stare.

"Well aren't you a hottie," he said smoothly. "I'm Luke. But feel free to call me 'Master.'" I growled and slammed my fists against the glass again, and he laughed. "So what's your name, cutie?" He glanced down at my nameplate. "_____, huh? That's quite a sexy name for a girl with such a bad attitude." He said with a grin as I continued to glare. He chuckled and turned to the salesman.

"I'll take this one."