The Pax guard looked at me with glee. “This slave is special,” he said, raising his voice over the whoop of hoots and whistles. “She’s been trained for large and ruthless lovers. The mild-mannered cocks of Nortian’s won’t do, no sir. She knows her way around a Drakon; in fact, she prefers to fuck them in their dragon forms.”
I had to tune him out. Fear burned hot on my cheeks. Ever since my enslavement, I had only ever known Pax owners. They were a sadistic and ruthless species but after years of doing their bidding, I knew what to expect. At this point, the unknown scared me a lot more than the Pax did.
The Coovooan Centaurs looked like a mild-mannered species. They were calm and relatively peaceful. They didn’t have the same lust for violence that the Pax did, but they were not big slave owners. The Drakons on the other hand, were a different story. I hadn’t come across them very often, but their reputation was fearsome. They were ruthless space pirates who lived by their own laws; they reeved, pillaged and stole, which was why there was little love lost between their kind and the Pax.
The Drakons resembled humans, far more than any other species I had seen since my enslavement, but under no circumstance could you ever mistake them for humans. A thick layer of colored scale coated their skin and they had large wings that folded back against their shoulder blades. I had never seen a Drakon in his shifter form, and I had to admit, that was a sight I was both curious and terrified to see.
We finally made it to the dais and I could see the auctioneers ready themselves on one edge of the platform. Several smaller wooden cages were being wheeled onto the stage by small groups of human slaves whose backs were covered with a barbarous collection of lash scars.
Once the dais had been set, the auctioneer walked to center stage. His fur was a gleaming white beneath the layers of black leather he wore. His claws scraped the wood as he walked towards the waiting crowd.
“Welcome all, I am Serge-Minot,” he boomed, his throaty voice grating. “We have an excellent selection for you today. I hope you have come prepared my friends. Today’s bidding will be fierce.”
Gooseflesh pricked at my skin and I wrapped my hands around my body. Minapolis was a relatively warm planet filled with bony trees and an eclectic collection of mismatched buildings, mud huts and tunnel caves. There was a certain archaic beauty about it, and yet, I felt cold all the time.
“First up, we have a human male,” Serge-Minot started, gesturing for one of his guards to bring forth the first slave. “Born in captivity, this useful creature has been trained in the kitchens. His specialties include Noxen stew and Liger-brazed pie. He is also skilled in the preparation of rare delicacies such as Phoenix and Manatow.”
I watched as a jeering Pax brought a young boy with a chain fastened around his collar on stage. All the Pax guard had to do was pull and the boy stumbled forward. He looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, but the milky sallowness of his skin made him seem even younger.
“He takes command well,” Serge-Minot went on. “Very obedient and very attentive. Let’s start the bidding at a hundred credits.”
I turned my gaze towards the crowd, wondering if my future owner was somewhere amidst the throng. Please, I murmured under my breath, please let me be bought by a decent slaver. There was a time when I used to pray for freedom. Now I just prayed that my owner would treat me well. It was a depressing thought, but one I had resigned myself to.
“Next lot!”
I gasped and looked up, realizing that my batch was up next. It felt like the collar around my neck tightened by several inches. My vision blurred as the crowd before me dissolved into obscure lines. I had never been part of an auction before. I was usually handed over from one owner to the next and I realized now that I preferred it. I couldn’t imagine standing up there while all those lecherous sadists examined me.
“Here we have a human female,” Serge-Minot boomed. “She is considered very fine among her species. Look at the golden hair, the blue eyes… she would make any male a fine bed mate.”
I couldn’t help it. I had to look at her. Serge Minot was right; she was beautiful. Her face was long and framed by hollowed in cheekbones that accentuated her large, doe eyes. It was obvious she had been bathed and prepared for this auction. Even her slave garment looked presentable and passably flattering.
“We want to see her!” a Gorbeck yelled. He stood at about nine feet and had three of his six arms in the air. Even if he weren’t so huge I would have noticed him by the deep murky green of his skin. His eyes were cat like with vertical black slits that made my skin crawl. “We want to see her whole!”
I frowned. What did that mean?
Before I could blink, Serge-Minot had walked over to the blonde slave and ripped her robes off with his teeth. I didn’t hear her gasp because my own was still ringing in my ears. She stood there, completely naked, staring out at the salacious audience with her eyes downcast and her body trembling like a leaf.
The bidding started at two hundred credits, but I couldn’t watch. Her nakedness felt like a personal insult. Why did they have to do that? It was a silly question really; one I already knew the answer to. She was a slave. We were nothing more than objects and objects didn’t have opinions or dreams or feelings.
“Next batch!”
I froze. No… not yet.
