Before I surrender to the fear, the cruel voice of Boris Cronin blares through the speakers once more. He taps on the microphone a few times and clears his throat before speaking. “Gentlemen, may I have your attention please?” He waits a few moments to let the conversations die down before continuing. “It is with great pleasure that I present to you, the exceptional slaves of Exotique.”
The applause picks back up as the curtain in front of me rustles, indicating its movement. A blast of cool air hits me when the curtain fully retracts, revealing the stage to the room. Murmurs of awe and excitement reverberate around us. I can already smell the potent scent of male arousal. Do all males think only with their cocks?
Cat calls and other sexual taunts are thrown towards the stage as we are put on display. Shifting my feet, I focus on trying to stay calm, willing myself to become invisible. Just breathe, okay. Don’t draw any attention to yourself.
A disturbance in the air and the sounds of footsteps alert me that the males are coming on stage to evaluate us for their bids. I hold incredibly still, uselessly trying to hide in plain sight, hoping I’m not the unlucky soul whose animal will be brought forth. Surely I’m not the most exceptional female up here.
“Hello again, little one.” I cringe as I recognize that voice, flashbacks of the whipping I suffered for biting his face still fresh in my mind. “Aren’t you going to greet your Master? Do you require a lesson to help with your… manners?” Malachi sneers at me. My stomach rolls in disgust. Please don’t bid on me. Please don’t bid on me.
“Unfortunately for you, my brothers and I cannot bid for you tonight, but I promise you this…” He leans closer, his breath heating my ear. “One day soon we will come for you. I will steal you from this place and make you mine. I will become the final owner of your hot little body, and your blood will only be consumed by me. You will obey all my commands as your Master and completely submit to me… You shall become my Queen and me your King.”
I shudder in fear at the confidence in his ominous words but hope he doesn’t notice. “Of course, part of me hopes you rebel, I would love to teach you a lesson.” With that he walks away, and I’m left to stew on his words. Why would he want me forever? He’s a king for fuck’s sake. I’m sure all the females in his kingdom fawn over him and his brothers. Why take a slave as his queen when there must be many willing females, ones that enjoy his dark desires?
Not wanting thoughts of the Malachi and his brothers to cloud my mind, I open my senses and focus on the sounds around me. The rattling chains of the other females’ restraints and male banter fill my ears when suddenly, a new scent surrounds me. I find myself salivating as it invades my nose. It’s masculine and drips of power, sex, and leather. The aroma becomes stronger, and the one to whom it belongs to speaks to me.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here? Your scent is quite alluring, poppet.” The smooth and sensual tone of his voice calls to something deep within me. “I detect Succubus, but there’s something else there, too. You’re gorgeous, there’s no denying that, but what about you is so special that you are one of the exceptional eight females on this stage tonight?”
Biting my lip, I don’t acknowledge him and hope he walks away to evaluate the other exceptional females here, but this fucker is persistent. “I wonder, poppet, what you would look like in your shifter form. Would you have… wings and feathers?” Internally I groan, hoping he stops fucking talking to me. I get so uncomfortable when my wings are on display, even discussing them makes me uneasy.
“The ensemble you're wearing is downright sexy. But I’d much rather see your outfit strewn all over my bedroom floor with your naked body writhing beneath me.” He sniffs me again, his hot breath fans against my skin with his close proximity. My succubus stirs beneath my skin as his intoxicating smell invades my nose.
“Your scent is driving me mad! I have to know if you taste as good as you smell.” His scent is driving me mad, too, and my succubus paces, wanting to greet this male. I feel a slight pulse hit me, like an invisible wave of energy and a hint of arousal warms my nipples and tingles my clit. What the hell was that?
“Would you like to know who I am, poppet?” No asshole, I don’t give a fuck who you are, but I am interested in what you are… “My name is Romero, but there is another name that I wish for you to call me by.” He pauses, and I feel his face come dangerously close to mine. Heat and power waft off him in waves of sex and lust. “I am your future, you know. If you are indeed part Succubus, and I’m almost certain that you are, I could make you my Queen. How does that sound, poppet?”
If I get propositioned to be someone’s fucking Queen one more time, I swear to God… A commotion from somewhere in the room interrupts my internal griping. Snarls and growls fill the air, and the pungent smell of blood fills my nose. I hear a resounding thwack, followed by a howl of pain. Just then Boris speaks into the microphone.
“I’m so sorry, gentlemen, for the interruption. It seems someone decided not to follow rule number three. He, and his hands, have been removed. Free drinks for all as compensation for the disruption. Please, carry on and enjoy your evening.”
My nerves are shot after that, knowing someone literally just lost their grabby fucking hands, and I’m chained up here helpless. If a large scale fight broke out, I would have no way to defend myself.
“I can smell you fear, poppet.” His voice is but a whisper as his hot breath tickles my face. “If you were mine and submitted to me, I would ensure your safety for all time. You would never have to worry again.” I don’t respond. “I see that you are the quiet type,” Romero states, his heady, masculine scent overpowering me. “It will bring me great pleasure then, to make you scream. I have particular… interests, and I am certain you would execute them nicely.” I shiver with that declaration. He chuckles, and the rumbles from his baritone voice travel straight to my clit.
“I will see you again, female, preferably naked and tied to my bed. Oh, and one last thing. My vote tonight... is for you.” I cringe while Romero walks away, his arousing scent leaving with him. A vote for me! No, please. Please don’t let anyone vote for me.
The night wears on, and the hours of voting drag by as Exotique’s members make their way around the stage. Most come and talk to me. More like, talk at me, since I don’t reciprocate the conversation, and by the lack of feminine voices, neither do the other females.
I’m lost in thought when a unique fragrance drifts through the air. I'm immediately drawn to it, turning my head towards its origin. It reminds me of what I’ve always imagined fresh air would smell like on a spring day. It’s unique, something I don’t recognize, but at the same time, something about it is also… familiar. I startle when my phoenix surges inside me, basking in this comforting scent.
Before I can think on it more, Boris takes command of the microphone once again, and I wince at the terror it instills in me. “Last call for voting, gentlemen. Last call. Are all your cards turned in?” He pauses for a moment as the crowd responds in a variety of affirmations. “Good, then let’s reveal our lucky winner, shall we?” Silence pervades the space while, I assume, he counts the votes. “With an overwhelming amount of votes, nearly unanimous, the lucky slave... is number eight.”
My heart drops to my feet as cheers and other sounds of excitement sound around the room. Please don’t let that mean me. The sting in my neck followed by a scorching burn that floods my veins answers that question.
It’s me.
Fuck!
Pain sears through my body as I morph into my phoenix/succubus combination. My skin turns a soft shade of lavender, matching my eyes. My scalp burns as my purple, pink, and blue hair grows even further down my back. Strands of silver feathers emerge and weave their way through it.
My lavender succubus tail pops out from just above my ass crack. It’s long enough that the triangular tip rests against the floor. I whip it back and forth, getting reacquainted with the additional extremity.
I grunt whe
n a pair of silver horns emerge from the corners of my forehead, just below my hairline. They follow the curvature of my head before flaring out and up. I roll my head trying to adjust to the extra weight on my neck.
Large, heavy wings burst forth from my shoulder blades, each longer than my entire body. Their weight pulls at my back. They aren’t leathery like those of a succubus, but colorful and full of soft feathers, like a phoenix. Pink, purple, and sky blue feathers decorate my wings, with silver ones woven throughout, just like in my hair.
My skin sears as the outlines of silver feathers tattoo my body with only the tips of the feathers filled in. They adorn my face, starting at my hairline and coming to a point between my eyes. They start again between my breasts, flaring up and over them, extending mid chest, then down around them to the bottom of my rib cage, leaving my flat belly bare. They also adorn my arms from the elbow down onto my hands, the silver tips just brushing my fingers.
My legs mimic my arms. Starting below my knees, the feathers make their way onto my feet, just to my toes. Feathers cover most of my back, running from the base of my skull and down my entire spine before flaring out over my ass. They continue to my front, decorating my hips like a tiny skirt, before narrowing and coming to a point just above my slit. I grit my teeth against the pain, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of my agony, but the occasional grunt escapes my lips.
The stunned audience is silent at the completion of my shift. I stand before them completely mortified as the chosen female, hating that I’m on display, and no longer able to strive for invisibility. Not that it did me any good.
Sounds of wonder float at me from around the room.
“Wow! What is she?”
“Holy shit! She’s gorgeous!”
“I want to see what those wings look like spread beneath me while I fuck her senseless.”
I’m so uncomfortable, my beast livid with the scrutiny she faces, like an insect being viewed under a microscope. They talk about me like I’m not standing right fucking here.
“She is striking, isn’t she gentlemen?” The slimy voice of Boris waits while the reactions to my shift die down. “Finally, the time has come to announce the winners of the Auction….” His voice drones on, but I don't need to pay attention until he gets to my number, and even then, there’s not much for me to do but stand here, waiting to be led by the Enforcers to my Handlers for the night. It takes time for the new Handlers to come and collect their prized females. I get lost in my thoughts as I wait for my number to be called.
Holy fuck. It’s her...
I rub my eyes, not believing the sight before me as my heart thumps wildly against my chest. After years and years of relentless searching, all of the hard work my team and I have put in has finally paid off. On the stage, chained up like a fucking slab of meat at the butchers, stands the very female I have spent almost my entire life looking for.
From the moment we decided to search in Germany, my instincts screamed that we were on the right track. Following this feeling of intuition, I found myself drawn towards the Black Forest, right to the secret entrance of the private club, Exotique.
The moment I entered the doors of this revolting place, a tug pulled in my gut, like a force guiding me inside. As soon as the curtains withdrew from the stage, and my golden eyes gazed up at number eight, I just knew, no... I sensed, that something was special about her. Her scent… it called to something innate in me, drawing me in like quicksand.
I’ve tried to keep my distance from her, not wanting others to notice my interest. She’s been very popular tonight. Almost every male has sauntered up to her, telling her how gorgeous she is and how much they want her, like she fucking cares. A god damned slave! To think she’s endured this horrific depravity her whole life is a travesty for the times. As a female of my species, her life is valued above all others, yet she's treated worse than a common street whore.
Glancing around from under my hood, I spot King Malachi and King Romero. I’m surprised to see royalty here, leaders of their own empires. How can leaders such as themselves sink so low as to bid for captive females. They are nothing but a bunch of monsters with no respect for our women. Fucking Bastards.
Romero keeps glancing at me from the corner of his eyes, nostrils flaring in my direction. I pull the hood down lower over my face, trying to mask my scent and stay as inconspicuous as possible. Knowing that she is here, a Phoenix like me would definitely not be welcome.
As if her alluring scent was not enough to give her heritage away, these idiots forced her to shift, solidifying what my heart already knew. She is the last Princess of the Phoenix empire. We are a dying race, nearing extinction. A majority of my generation are hybrids now, most with human DNA, and can only partially shift, much like her.
Since the kidnapping of the Princess, most of our females have died out and those that remain have became infertile. The males of our race have often sought humans for mates in absence of females from our own race. King Ignatius is one of the only remaining pure blood Phoenix’s left, and his days are numbered. The loss of his daughter combined with the stress of the inevitable extinction of our kind weighs heavily on the King. The last of our stronghold withers away in her absence.
Gorgeous doesn’t come close to describing her beauty. She radiates grace and power. With her lavender skin and those breathtaking colorful wings, she is absolutely stunning. I try to justify my next course of action as I consider placing a bid on her. I know I shouldn't lower myself like the rest of these repulsive males, but I just can’t fucking help it. If she’s not with me, then she ends up in the bed of one of these other bastard males. The thought of one of them touching her, tasting her, makes my blood boil with rage.
I need to calm the fuck down, if I’m going to figure this out… Fuck it. Deciding to give in to my own justifications, I make my way towards the stage with a sneer on my face and confidence in my step. I need to blend in with the others here, appear like I belong. Sniffing the jacket I have on, I confirm that my scent is at least partially masked. Having killed it’s previous owner, a bastard Eagle shifter who was making his way inside the auction, I hope that my scent blends easier with his, since we are both avian shifters.
Standing in front of the stage, just below her, I notice her nostrils flare as she inhales deeply, turning her gorgeous face towards me. She continues sniffing the air, trying to find whatever scent that has caught her attention, when I realize that it’s mine. I’ve been a fool! Of course her phoenix would recognize its own kind. Quickly, I place my bid for her, which is an astronomical amount of money, then casually make my way to the back of the room. I send up a silent prayer to whatever Gods that might exist to please allow me to win her tonight.
I can’t believe my good fortune when my name is called to come and collect female number eight. This is unbelievable. I fucking did it! She is mine for the night! Internally, I’m jumping up and down, shouting in celebration of my victory. However on the outside, I must keep my composure. Sauntering up to the stage with a smug look on my face, I claim Princess Trinity, the lost Phoenix Princess.
Rough hands unchain me from the cross, then grip me tightly just above the crook of my elbows as I’m led by at least two pairs of hands across the stage to my waiting Handler. I stumble down a short flight of stairs and through the Auction room, with my wrists bound beneath my wings.
The potent smell of male arousal fills my nostrils, and I wrinkle my nose trying to expel the cloying scent. Hands hold me in a solid grip, steadying me as I stagger blindly through the room while failing to keep up with their quick pace. Snide remarks assault me from all directions, their cruel words like brands against my skin.
"Hope you get fucked hard tonight, slut."
"Is your cunt purple, too?"
"I would love to see how well that flawless skin marks after a dozen lashings from my whip."
Others take advantage of my close proximity and grab me as I pass. A slap lands on my ass, a brush against my wing
s, a tug on my hair.
Gritting my teeth, I clench my hands into fists behind my back, digging my nails into my skin to remind myself to keep my mouth shut. I just want to scream at them to keep their disgusting fucking hands off my body.
The inability to see is completely frustrating. Why do I always have to wear these fucking blindfolds? It's not like I'll ever get to leave this place. Why do they care if I can see them? Then again, maybe it's better for me if I can't.
The voices quiet as we exit the Auction and walk down what I assume is a narrow hallway, based on how often the males leading me brush against my body and the edges of my wings keep scraping the walls.
Helping me down the stairs, they lead me another short distance before stopping suddenly, jerking me to a halt. "This is it, sweetheart. Time to take care of business.” He pounds on a door, the sound of his knuckles rapping makes my heart start to race with trepidation at the unknown presence that exists behind it. Who won me at this auction? What will they do to me?
My nerves kick in, and I start to tremble as my body gives way to the stress. The door creaks when it opens, and I swallow hard. It’s time. I take a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for my fate when it hits me. That wonderful smell, like freshly washed sheets, wraps around me. I gasp as the tug in my gut comes back full force, almost guiding me into the room without any assistance.
Unforgiving hands shove me, and I stumble forward. Bound and blindfolded, I fall into...strong, careful arms? Something’s not right. Unlike what I'm used to, a pair of steady hands guides me forward with care as the door shuts and locks behind us, sealing my fate.
I’m overwhelmed by his scent as he walks me further into the room then abruptly stops. I can sense that he’s standing next to me, but his inaction makes me uneasy and seems quite awkward. I'm grateful for the repose, but that damn tugging sensation reminds me that something else is going on here.
Bound For Blood (Feathers & Fire Book 1) Page 6
