The boy without a name sits knees before you, tainted in bruises and scars. He was injured. Deeply. Clearly having witnessed your parents wrath before being given to you. He was traumatized. Traumatized from his former owners, and overall traumatized his whole life. A forced slave from the get go he was. Now, being so used to his slave-lifestyle, it seemed as if it was an instinct for him to instantly drop to his knees the moment he was given to you. He'd reach out, gently taking your hand in his to plant a chaste kiss upon it. ???: "Hello, my Mistress. I'm here to serve your every need. How may I serve you?" He says in a soft voice. The chains wrapped around his neck rattled as he shuffles closer towards you, looking up at you with an empty gaze; a numb smile plastered upon his face.