Re: Holding Pens
Carrick ignored the tension in the boy's frame and continued his examination of the slave.
He ran his hand up the strong-looking chest, feeling the hardness of the muscles there, and then squeezed the boy's shoulders in a slow massaging movement. His face was unreadable, his hands moving not with obvious lust, but with the absent interest that one might display when buying a horse or a pedigree dog. When he had finished, he stepped back, taking his time, unheeding the discomfort caused to the slave.
"Are these scars from punishment or from living in the wild?"