by Corin Cain
I suddenly realize that I’m the next in line – standing before the doorway, about the be led on stage.
My stomach churns. I ball my hands into fists.
The door to the auction hall opens, and suddenly the hush hits me. It’s like all the sound is sucked out of the room. The previously raucous crowd outside is silent, as they anticipate the next piece of human cattle to be paraded in front of them.
The human auctioneer walks through to the door, right up to me, and then looks me up and down as if I’m an expensive coat he’s considering buying.
I stare back at him with hatred. Almost as disgusting as those who’d trade in slaves are the members of my own species who’d willingly profit by taking part in the process.
If the auctioneer sees the disgust in my eyes, he doesn’t say anything. He just takes the thin chain hanging from my neck in his hand, and then he tugs until I stumble after him.
The auctioneer leads me out of the doorway, onto the auction stage.
I have to follow him. I have no other choice – no choice except the agonizing pain of the Orb-Collar.
As I stumble through the doorway, shielding my eyes against the blinding light, I suddenly understand the hush.
The perfect silence was anticipation from the crowd.
Anticipation for me.
I walk onto the stage, led by the auctioneer, and he gestures for me to stand in the center of the auction block. As my feet hit the spot he gestured, I feel the heat of the countless spotlights overhead – bathing me in low, warm light that’s meant to accentuate my curves, and show off my figure.
I shiver despite the heat of the lights – detesting myself as I stand in front of the packed indoor stadium, facing row upon row of well-dressed humans, haughty Aurelians, and slobbering, disgusting Toads.
They’re all staring at me – but not like I’m a human being. No, they’re looking at me like I’m flesh. A commodity. A thing.
And then I see him.
Korgath, in the flesh.
I feel my body stiffen at the sight of him. I’ve seen so many pictures, but never got a glimpse of him in the stony, pale flesh before.
The pictures did not prepare me.
Korgath is sitting on a throne-like chair, in a special VIP section of the stadium. The chair looks absurdly small beneath him, even though it was clearly built to Aurelian dimensions.
But then again, Aurelian dimensions, as towering as they are, seem woefully inadequate when it comes to the most feared crime lord on Titus.
Korgath is brutally tall – much, much bigger than any other Aurelian. He dwarfs those that sit behind him in the regular seats – like the alpha dog among a pack of pups.
But there’s no arrogance in his poise – as if his physical superiority is so inconsequential to him that he doesn’t even consider any more. In fact, everything about him is different to the way Aurelians normally conduct themselves. For example, there’s none of the icy detachment in his flint-grey eyes – and no trace of mercy in them, either. He stares at me as I stand before him, and he devours my body with his hungry gaze.
There’s something about the way he looks at me – the intensity of it – that disturbs and excites me. I hate myself for it, but the silky smoothness of the pleasure slave robe I wear suddenly becomes more intense. The gossamer microfibers tantalize my nipples and caress my body in a way I’d been able to ignore before. With the heat of Korgath’s gaze serving as a catalyst, I reluctantly find my arousal growing. I hate myself for my body’s betrayal – for the way Korgath’s flint-grey eyes make me feel.
But, at the same time, I can only imagine what it would be like to have the end of my chain clasped in that infamous Aurelian’s huge fist.
The auctioneer grins, extending his upturned palm towards me as if he’s showcasing a beautiful piece of art.
But that’s what I am to these people – an object.
“We have a rare treat for our next lot – another beautiful young virgin. But this female is different from our previous lots. This one is feisty. I even heard she killed two of the slavers who tried to capture her.”
There’s an appreciative murmur from the crowd – from everybody except Korgath. He sits there as implacable as a statue – those flint-grey eyes still studying me hungrily.
The auctioneer continues:
“This one will be a challenge to tame – but I’m sure there are those of you out there eager to try. And despite her fiery nature, you can be assured that she is still innocent – and in the right hands, could be eagerly molded to your desires.”
More gasps come from the crowd. Korgath’s eyes narrow ever so slightly. If I wasn’t staring defiantly at him, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed this tiniest demonstration of emotion.
I suddenly realize that he and I have made eye-contact – that suddenly this menacing Aurelian is staring right into my eyes – right through me. My immediate instinct is to turn away – to look to the floor, as any of these other submissive human women would do…
But I’m not one of them. I still have my pride – and despite the churning in my stomach, I will not be the one to break eye contact…
…or so I think.
Suddenly, the auctioneer roughly yanks my chain, jerking my head down and forcing my eyes downward. I gasp in pain.
“As you can see,” the auctioneer addresses the crowd, “this one wants to keep her eyes up. She thinks she is an equal. This one will take much spanking, whipping, and punishing before she realizes her place as your docile servant. But I can see the eyes of some of you light up at the thought of it.” He grins wickedly. “The cream of this crop, this one is – for certain. There is no greater pleasure than taming a defiant filly, and she is most defiant.”
The auctioneer’s comments are met with ribald laughter and jeers. My cheeks go red listening to it.
They all seem to find my humiliation entertaining.
All except Korgath, that is. He still sits there, like a statue.
I ignore him, and think about the auctioneer’s words…
Spanking.
Whipping.
Training.
I instantly imagine that it will be Korgath giving out the punishments. He’s so fucking huge. Over seven-feet of powerful, brutal muscle. The fitted suit he’s wearing does nothing to hide his massive frame. His chiselled jaw could be made of stone, and he shares the same marble-skin tone of all Aurelians.
I imagine it’s him, because out of a see of eager faces, his is the only one I see. He’s so much bigger, and has so much more presence than anybody else in the room.
He’s the wolf among strays. – Despite myself, his radiant power is instantly enticing to me. I find myself drawn to him despite my hatred of the man.
A hatred I didn’t think could grow – until I saw him here.
I knew Korgath was a bastard, but I never thought he’d sink so low as to take slaves. I thought even he had some standards. Seeing him here reveals he’s worse than the most fetid scum on Titus.
The bidding starts. A huge Toad in a wetsuit – some kind of outfit that keeps his skin moist and glistening – raises his meaty hand. I shudder at the thought of that fetid beast winning me as his prize...
Then a massive Aurelian bids for me, and the sense of dread I feel is no less intense.
The bidding picks up pace, until it’s fierce and quick. Hands rise as fast as the auctioneer can announce my mounting price in his quick, stuttering tempo. I’m amazed as the bidding goes up to 200,000 – which is more than I would have received for my entire haul of precious cargo.
Throughout it all, Korgath looks up at me with his intense eyes, never blinking.
So he does not want me. Why would the greatest crime lord on the planet be interested in me, anyways?
He has yet to bid. I meet his eyes fiercely, daring him to do just that.
The bidding slows, and the auctioneer holds his hands up to the crowd to try and goad them further.
“This one is
prime training material,” he reminded them. “I know all of you fought your way to where you stand today, so there’s not one amongst you unwilling to embrace a challenge. She’s the beautiful embodiment of that. This one’s going to give you a hard time too. Watch.”
The auctioneer turns and slaps his hand right across my ass, causing an echoing crack like a gunshot to ricochet across the auction hall. The crowd laughs as I clench my fists – my face a mask of rage. Ironically, that anger demonstrates my fighting spirit; exactly what the auctioneer wanted.
The demonstration seems to have done the trick, too. It finally stirs Korgath to raise his hand, placing his own bid on me.
The auctioneer points to him, and then the original bidder – that fat Toad – raises his hand once again.
I shudder as I see it. No, not him…
But Korgath keeps his hand still and raised. The room turns to look at him as the bidding continues. His hand remains raised to the sky, matching every bid made for me. The auctioneer spits like an automatic weapon in his rush to raise the price. 300,000. 400,000. 500,000. Korgath doesn’t flinch despite the escalating price tag. There are rumbles and groans of disappointment across the crowd as the other bidders realize he’s dead set on buying me.
Finally, even his most stubborn rivals – even that fat-faced Toad – accept the inevitable.
“Sold!” The auctioneer’s voice echoes across the chamber. “To Korgath, for 600,000!”
600,000. A single credit traded for the value of my life, 599,999 more paid for the innocence between my legs.
Korgath stands slowly. The auctioneer hesitates, watching him eye the stage in front of him.
“D-don’t worry, good sir. We’ll bring her to you, don’t worry.”
“No.” Says Korgath flatly. “You will not do anything with my property – not any more.”
And then he turns and looks at me – and I understand the truth in his eyes.
He owns me.
The auctioneer swallows hard, and allows Korgath to step over the rope and climb on stage. Meekly, the auctioneer hands my thin chain to Korgath. It looks ridiculously small in his enormous, marble-white hand.
Korgath steps besides me, towering above me.
Gods, he’s huge.
I’m so ashamed. The thin gossamer of my pleasure slave dress does nothing to hide my peaked nipples, or trembling skin. The microfiber fabric is sheer and see-through, and Korgath studies every inch of me as if I’m not wearing anything at all. The gossamer material makes me feel more exposed than actually being naked.
So does the look Korgath gives me – the way his flint-grey eyes burn as he studies every detail of my body.
My body. Now it belongs to him – to the most ruthless gangster on Titus.
I shudder. Korgath reaches out his huge hand. His massive fingers lightly touches the bottom of my chin, forcing me to look up. When his skin grazes against mine, it doesn’t send tingles through me – it sends a wave of shock; like electricity. I’m ashamed at how this towering alien makes me feel so small and powerless.
I find it difficult to meet his flint-grey eyes – which stare at me as coldly as if they were carved from granite. There’s no emotion in the beast-like alien’s face. He stands towering on the stage, looking down at me as if I’m the only other person in this crowded room.
As he does so, nervous coughs begin to echo across that same crowd. People are getting impatient.
“We’ll call a quick break,” the auctioneer senses their annoyance, “then we’ll get back to the auction.”
There’s a murmur of assent from the crowd, and some step up for a breath of air, or to collect refreshments from one of the trays the human servants are bearing.
It gives the auctioneer a moment’s respite. Nervously, he turns and looks up at Krogath, meekly murmuring: “Sir? Are you to claim your prize?”
It’s a respectfully worded question, but Korgath still shoots the auctioneer a snarl as he’s snapped from his silent study of me. The auctioneer recoils, terrified by the flash of emotion he sees in the normally flint-grey eyes.
But no sooner has that flash of anger revealed itself then it’s gone again. With a nod, Korgath grips my chain tightly and leads me off the stage.
He doesn’t yank the chain, in the way all the others who’ve held it did. It’s as if he knows he doesn’t have to. I’m left with the choice of fighting him – and end up being dragged behind him – or simply following.
He gave me the courtesy of not yanking that chain, so I return it by following the towering alien without hesitation. I walk as fast as I can, hustling off the stage behind him as Korgath strides up the aisle between the rows of seats.
I can’t believe it. He bought me, and he’s just leaving – just like that. As if the rest of the sale, and all those other slaves, mean nothing to him.
I study the faces we pass as Korgath leads me away from the stage. Humans, Toads and rogue Aurelians witness as I’m lead away - now the property of the most feared crime boss on the entire planet.
I have to hustle to keep up with Korgath. I’m scampering behind him as we leave the auditorium. I think he’ll leave the mansion, too – but instead Korgath leads me to an adjacent room, set up as a luxurious bar, where many of the auction attendees are taking advantage of the short break to wet their whistle with cocktails and liquor.
Just like in the auction auditorium, there are hushed and respectful whispers as Korgath makes his way through the crowd. Humans, Toads and even Aurelians step aside to let him pass – giving the towering kingpin a respectful nod as they do so.
Korgath heads to a luxurious VIP table that awaits him, and sits down at a table wordlessly. I have no choice but to follow.
As I do so, I glance over at an adjacent table and gasp as I see a most disturbing sight:
A beautiful human is on her knees beneath that table, openly and shamelessly fellating another wealthy Aurelian. This alien – significantly smaller than Korgath, but towering nonetheless – has coolly unzipped his expensive dress pants and casually let his massive cock rear out from inside.
His swollen cock is as hard as a rock, and the human woman gags as she tries desperately to deep throat the massive member. Her head bobs up and down in his lap, and saliva drools down her chin, as she stretches her lips wide to accommodate him.
She seems to be doing a serviceable job. Tears stream from the woman’s eyes as her hard work is rewarded. With a groan, the Aurelian grabs her by the hair and I watch as he spurts his cum deep into the woman’s eagerly sucking mouth.
At first glance, you might think it’s a seen of abuse – of an Aurelian using his female slave like she’s nothing but a piece of meat. Then I notice something that truly disturbs me:
The woman’s nipples are hard as rocks, stretching out the material of her pleasure robe. The hem of her dress is hiked up, and she had a hand between her legs, desperately playing with herself even as she swallows her master’s seed.
She’s not just a slave, servicing her owner. She’s enjoying it.
I shudder in disgust… and shameful arousal.
The tension against the chain has slackened, so I turn and look at my own ‘owner.’ Korgath is sitting at the table, and I make a move to sit beside him…
Korgath fixes me with a look. That’s all it takes – a look to make me freeze.
“Kneel beside me.”
I shudder. The other woman was kneeling in front of her Aurelian master, sucking his cock. Is that what Korgath intends me to do?
For a moment I imagine being under his table – being forced to pleasure this massive alien, while he calmly leans back, sipping on a drink and enjoying his conquest.
But he hasn’t conquered me yet – and he never will.
Yet is now the time to show my defiance? To demonstrate that I’m not just another weak, submissive human female – eager to serve?
I hesitate for only a split second.
Then I make my choice.
I have
my plan. I will do whatever it takes to convince this alien bastard I am a willing, subservient human slave like the rest of them - even if it means swallowing my pride, betraying my dignity, and kneeling by his side like some kind of pet.
I have to. I have to convince him that I’m weak, so that when I have the opportunity, I can demonstrate my strength.
I sink slowly my knees. A human at the next table watches – studying me hungrily while he drinks a whisky.
“Eyes off my property,” growls Korgath. The man stiffens as the most feared crime boss on Titus addresses him. He drops his drink, which shatters on the table. A servant comes quickly to clean the mess as the man turns away, too terrified to make eye contact with the looming Aurelian.
Satisfied at the human’s terrified response, Korgath turns his flint-grey eyes toward me, looking down to appraise his purchase.
“Hands behind your back,” he orders.
I gulp, and dutifully put my hands behind my back. I know why he’s asking me to do it – it’s one of the traditional positions of a human pleasure slave. It’s a pose that presses my breasts forward – stretching the thin material of my pleasure robe tightly across them.
A surge of traitorous need shivers all the way from the top of my spine to between my legs. My breath deepens, as I thrust my chest forward and my nipples are pressed against the thin gossamer microfiber.
Damn whoever invented these pleasure robes – they are truly egregious. At the touch of the material, despite my anger, shame and humiliation, my nipples instantly grow harder.
My breath deepens. It’s as if I can’t help but be aroused. Everything seems more intense.
My mind is suddenly filled with the memory of the sound that human woman made – the slurping and sucking as she knelt at the adjacent table, pleasuring her Aurelian master’s cock with her eager lips and tongue. The memory floods my mind, and I know that if Korgath wanted me to, I’d be forced to pleasure him the same way, in front of everyone.
And the worst part? I’m not disgusted at the thought of that, like I know I should be. Despite everything that’s happened to me, and the intense humiliation at my situation, my nipples are somehow begging to be touched, and even being ordered around by this brutal alien is triggering something deep inside of me – awakening a part of myself I feel ashamed by.
