You hang in your open cell, shrouded in the darkness, silence broken only by the occasional metallic rattle of unyielding chains.
You hear the approach of heavy footfalls echoing through the corridor, drawing near. A single, hulking silhouette gives pause just in front of you, before approaching so close you can hear his steady breath, smell the warmth of his masculine sweat. Although you cannot raise your head to look, you feel his presence as keenly as the collar bolted tight around your neck.
I circle you slowly, assessing, moving in the way a predator would approach weakened prey. You feel the whisp of large, firm hands across your back, a stiff prod on my fingers into your side, and painful squeezes on your arms and shoulders, as if appraising your fitness and assigning value.
"This one will do." My voice is low, gutteral and scratchy.
More footfalls, and a rustle of movement. A female voice murmurs, this one familiar to you. "Are you sure, Sir? We've recently received him, so he hasn't been prepared."
I say it again, my answer stabbing the air decisively. "This one."
The sound of creaking chains leads to the sweet, aching release of burning shoulders held in check for far too long. Blood rushes to your head and you crumple, hitting your head on the concrete floor, blacking out...
Alone again, you awaken to...
((Alright, I was purposely vague. How did you initially imagine things?
Now take it a step further.
Who are you? Male, female? Of what age, social class or background?
What got you into this predicament? Shanghai'ed? A criminal? A spoil of war?
When, and Where is the setting? Ancient, medieval, modern? Reality?
Why have I chosen you? Are you to be a gladiator? A slave?
How will our interactions be? Adversarial? Benevolent?
Without getting too detailed or invested, how does the scene continue?
Oh, and don't forget, even PG-13, my character will be *some* incarnation of StudDaddyDiscipline. Heh.))