Perform.

Nothing seemed different from his days of unsung places thru paths and halls and nameless bodies thronging in and out of his room but now. He was certain within heartbeats that he was welcoming by a more precise and stern discipline orders from more unknown voices now. It was not Junmyeon's inhumane instructions that made his heart knock oddly. It was the change of air in the room where his keepers had dragged him into, minutes ago.

He was still aware of the words, harsh and full of surety--succinctly from Junmyeon who had said it when they were checking him out inside his room.

Perform.

It was a bliss that it occurred to him unlooked for his legs wobbling in bad anticipation. His head carefully moving side to side, chasing for the diminishing sour remarks and added stout reflection from refined and splendid voices for his sight was again, blindfolded.

A tug, and his blinds slid away from his eyes--in actuality--adroitly insured of black leather. He was practically dragged rather than instructed to sit at the far left of the room down on a reclining couch. He found it, if he could honestly find it, and if not for the fact of what and where he was right now--that it was relaxing that his legs encountered soft and soothing layers of silks and wools, cloths that were expensive imports into his hometown. But what impossible was not to engage his full attention to the important people, shortly, protruding in his front. 

It was the Prince who's eyes were significant amongst his blokes, as they lifted ever so slowly to regard him with single unmanned look. Kyungsoo's eyes wide and awakened at the sudden shtick. But for once, he was not fearing it. Confusion with terse astonishment was the right words as he let his eyes travel across the Prince's face. His eyes was flat that always, as it had been in the viewing, overlay seductive interest. It was disorienting, truly, to imagine him taint himself with the tiniest slice of lust. Words did exist. What was in the mind of that young prince? What pleases him at times of laughing? Of those lips twisting to curves and lines? Of slaves curling their way to get his attention? Of the recent bidding in which he was given with great subservience a fine non-bedded young slave.

 Kyungsoo saw the prince ordered one of his servants wordlessly and quickly made careful steps backward for him.

'The prince wish your good performance to start.' The words sprung gingerly by a young chamberlain.

He was not sure of the good performance going. Effectively, his keepers had not yet indoctrinated him even with a dilettante precepts. He had not touched a single instrument even once before in his life--slave performance, let alone.

There had been several violent castigation in the last few weeks, all occurring at the chambers and inns in the palace. Some were unpleasant display of rasped, scratched or lashed skins. Cries and curses at the rooms under the hands of physicians.

Luhan, in some point, had been pulled out from the keeps a day before the prince viewing. He was put hold under punishment for he angered one of the courtiers. He was dragged by the collar of his neck into the dirt ground of cooking facilities. His side and his testament that he was forced on the ground onto his elbows and knees to be ed by a gross overweight old man, however, have been cut immediately with a sharp backhanded blow by Junmyeon's fine boned hand.

Kyungsoo for once, learning that in his days spent in this place, and more. They were given the smallest right to speak, to complain, to ask, to make time for other choices, at all. 'Don't courage yourself to withstand outrage, I promise you, it will never be easy.' Junmyeon said.

He felt the growing danger and there was an unquiet way his mind was running. Let them squeeze everything out of him, but he innately hadn't had the smallest idea to perform. 

And that too, was frightening everything out of him.

The door behind him rattled followed by graceful chatting. Another courtiers coming into this activity, mingling, fancy and pretentious involvements. He tried to even out his breathing, it doesn't help him.

'The leather made it so profane.' Said one of the courtiers thronging into the room. He eyed Kyungsoo and come to a startling halt as a man might admire a masterpiece. The view almost made him drop his jaws. It seemed to be true, the gift to the prince was more striking and delicate in the short distance--though technically no one hadn't had seen his face behind that leather mask.

'It pleases the prince. I stake my signet the prince will soon betting the leather off one strap each round.' One of the courtiers countered, who is Chanyeol. His voice low and burly but fancy and benign like it was nothing to him seeing a slave effectively shuddering and clinging for his life.

'It pleases the prince.' Courtier Chanyeol continued as he eased his way into one of the reclining couch. 

'It pleases me.' Said Sehun. 'Let him start performing now.' He said with his eyes elsewhere.

In his nights spending to follow curt orders has been a good trial. He didn't struggled as the chamberlain took hold of his elbow up. The case was this... He doesn't know how to perform.

'I need a word with my handler.' Kyungsoo said when he was completely up on his feet. The chamberlain stoop to regard his words.

'You don't know how to perform, is it?'

The chamberlain is a young man with favorable warm smile and natural prettyish face. He was Jongdae, the chamberlain to the prince household. You don't need time to exhibit kindness, you could smile right away at his gentle behavior. But the kind appearance he worn quickly turned down as he bowed his head and simply say 'I'm sorry.' 

Kyungsoo felt more empty now that the chamberlain's attention turn back to his duty.

No chamberlain now; he was shoved aside when a guard took hold of his elbow, a single maneuver by a young prince.

There was now a silence as Kyungsoo stood, a prickling silence harmful to anybody who concerned the pleasure of delegation-except that these men at robes and more clothes, were uninhibited enough to linger with any tension-logically if the cause was by a flint of on going slave show.

'Do you expect us to stare at you do nothing for the rest of the hour?' Said one of the courtiers.

Laughters.

Kyungsoo said nothing. He has no right as well. But not his mind. It must be more than anger or duty that Junmyeon had him stripped off his town and wrench him to this sick place. What more? He searched his memory and it antsy led him to his mother, his only hope. And then, why? What causes her to give up him to someone so far and strange? And giddy. Violence and if he could still let it sink down into his bones--a brother's betrayal.

There was an abrupt annoyance within the viewers, nursing them their excitement to what lay upon on the show prepared to them. They were all expectant to that, and more than as one of the overly ornate clothed courtier straightened his back and leaned to the prince, 'The delay has sunk within our men. What holds you back my liege, not to throw his slave to a real show?'

Sehun went still, as he had always been. The words then took him, and he thought of things that were, surely not to be accomplished if he stay abandoned from his activities. He thought of his men that on this day he was to give them liberties, if not with bribes, then with slaves. Those men little knew what was in the mind of their prince, who had many another hard-thought dealing in his stance unalike of his progenitors. 

There will be no one credited to orders and signals. But Sehun went on his frigid and numbing appearance. He sprawled on the reclining couch with utter disregard to the rising prurient inside the room even so with a slave standing before them who was logically hand-picked among attractive slaves from the keeps, more so--a custom gift.

'It's my pleasure to offer my liege, the practices in my fort the use of our slaves. Please allow me.' Said the courtier, from the east, Yifan.

One single flick of an eyebrow and Kyungsoo was trussed again and bound, differently, in a low table. Cleverly, it was a makeshift for pleasure to small parties as this one. The guards were bulky, muscles lain on their body enhanced thru daily practice in the training arena. They caught his arms and legs. Tug on them and tied with a lash that were wounded around the tables's corners. They didn't give him time to question the lashes and binds trailing all atop the table because they had already tugged on his delicate limbs before he could mutter a resistance. It maybe the patent deference they necessitate in the presence of their prince that holds them back from causing too much violence against the slave and of course the ineluctable promise of beauty and freshness all constellated in one body that Kyungsoo has fortunately owned.

Yifan pushed up from his couch and forwarded to the low table. The motion alarmed Kyungsoo. The position of the table made it harder to him to take a good look at anyone approaching. The courtiers view from all the reclining couch clear to watch his legs enshrouding in great e