Page 7 of Bought and Shared

A urora

We’re paraded onto the stage one by one.

Once we’re lined up, we’re told to present ourselves, turn slowly, and keep our hands demurely at our sides.

I’m so emotional, I can’t even see the crowd.

They’re a blur of various colored blobs staring back at me.

My breathing picks up and I feel like I could hyperventilate at any moment.

When they call our names, they coldly instruct us to go to the center of the stage.

That’s when the bidding begins. The Voltan hold paddles in one hand and pamphlets with our stats in the other.

Whenever a male is interested in a woman, he raises his wooden paddle high, and the bidding war begins.

The party that bids the highest is awarded their prize.

Their chosen woman is led off the stage, her new master trailing close behind them.

I’m frozen to the spot I stand upon, waiting for my name to be announced.

Each time a woman is called forward, I hold my breath in anticipation of hearing my own.

After eighteen women are auctioned off, the lights are lowered.

The atmosphere changes and so does the mood.

It becomes darker and more intense. It’s just Cadence and me left now.

We stare at each other, uncertain of what’s happening.

“Aurora Pleasant,” The announcer calls, and I will my feet to carry me over to where a red x is painted center stage.

My heart beats so hard I fear it will burst out of my chest. The crowd is unnaturally still. Quiet permeates the auditorium like a bad smell. Though I can’t make out any faces in particular, I can still feel them watching me, waiting for something, though I have no idea what.

Like the women before me, the announcer reads off my stats.

When he notes the part about my being a virgin, I blush like a blooming rose.

When he mentions that I tested positive for something called the “Lincoln Gene”, the crowd begins to murmur loudly amongst themselves.

I have no idea what this means, but they must. I’m not sure if it’s good news or bad news.

However, I know that it means something important by the length of time it takes those assembled to settle down.

My eyes rove over the crowd then. I don’t admit to myself what I’m doing.

I don’t have to. I know who I’m looking for.

Him. The handsome officer who makes me burn.

The one who held me close in the cafeteria earlier.

Like a lightning bolt from above, my body jolts as soon as our gazes meet.

He’s in the first row, front and center.

His paddle, already in hand, is partially raised, primed for bidding.

“Ms. Pleasant,” the announcer calls over the PA, and I jump. “Please remove your dress. The Voltan wish to see what they’re bidding on.”

My body goes numb with fear. None of the other women had been asked to disrobe. Why do I have to? I hesitate like a deer caught in headlights, which causes the announcer to become more firm with his order.

“Take off your dress, Ms. Pleasant,” he repeats more sternly, as though I’m slow-witted and need the instruction delivered twice.

It’s as though a beaver is trapped in my stomach, gnawing away at my insides to get out. I can’t do this. They can’t expect me to! It’s too much to ask. Too humiliating. My eyes fill with hot tears and my vision begins to swim.

Lost and afraid, my gaze goes back to the handsome officer’s.

I feel his silent demand for me to look at him.

When I do, he mouths, “Comply”. And, like I have no will of my own, I begin to slip out of my silk dress.

Since I’m not wearing a bra or underwear, I’m naked the instant the cool material slithers down my hips to the floor. Hot embarrassment sizzles through me.

My nipples respond to the sudden chill and harden to sharp points. The crowd emits a loud, collective groan and leans forward to inspect me. My officer is no exception. He’s the only one in focus for me now.

His gaze meanders down my shivering length. His hand, with its long fingers, slips down to stroke a bulge so massive it makes my eyes widen with shock. That can’t be what I think it is. Can it?

Though I’ve never seen an adult male naked, I know what men look like in a state of undress.

When my little cousins were children, I used to bathe them often.

However, what I see straining the fitted fabric of the officer’s uniform can’t be humanly possible.

But I guess it isn’t. Because this “man” isn’t human at all.

He’s all Voltan. And, at this moment, he’s staring directly at me, teasing that terrifying object between his legs.

The thing I know he’ll want to stick inside of me the first chance he gets.

I want that too. The sticky wetness between my legs, threatening to trickle down my thighs, is proof of that fact even though I want to deny it.

“Look at those curves,” the announcer purrs, his voice dripping with lascivious intent.

“Just imagine how it will feel to slide between those luscious thighs. To feel the stretch of that untried pussy around your cock. Give the men a demonstration, Ms. Pleasant,” the disembodied voice hotly instructs. “Show them what you can do for them.”

Not knowing what he wants from me, I can only hold my officer’s gaze as he unzips his pants and slides his hand into them. I know the moment he is able to seize his engorged root because his eyes turn to blue fire.

“Ms. Pleasant, show the men how tight you are,” the announcer continues to demand. “Stroke your pretty pussy for them. Let them see how you drip in anticipation of their big Voltan cocks.”

I didn’t think it was possible to blush any deeper than I already am, but I do.

I’m frozen in place. I can’t possibly do what he’s requesting.

It’s far too personal an act to perform on stage for a roomful of men.

Being naked is humiliating enough. Touching myself, like I do in the dead of night when nobody can hear or see me, is a bridge too far.

As my officer continues to stroke himself, he nods his head, giving me the silent command to masturbate. I can’t deny him. He has this unexplainable power over me. I want nothing more than to please him, to satisfy his desire, so that he can satisfy mine.

Shakily, I lower my hand and trail it down my stomach.

With trembling fingers, I find my most vulnerable place and slide two fingers between my weeping folds.

The men are panting now, and I feel a strange sort of power mixed with a healthy dose of fear and utter humiliation as I swirl my fingers around the small bundle of nerves sheltered within my delicate sex.

In this moment, I’m the most powerful person in the room, but I’m aware that things can turn against me in an instant. That, if left unchecked, I could be overrun and ravished within seconds by even just one of their muscular number.

“Tease yourself, Ms. Pleasant,” the announcer commands. “Show us what we want to see. Spread your legs wide and shove two fingers inside your tight cunt.”

Shutting my eyes against the crowd, I focus on my body and my needs.

A warmth, starting low in my belly, builds as I gently circle my sensitive bud.

My lips part and an unexpected moan slips out.

I’m climbing toward an orgasm so fast it takes even me by surprise.

Shocked by my own response, it spurs my climax ever closer.

Men from the crowd begin to encourage me onward.

Shouting out commands for me to “finger my pussy” and “make myself nice and slippery for them”.

I know I’ll be horrified when it’s all over, but I’m so close to coming I can’t be bothered to care.

I’m wild with need. Desperate to finish this debaucherous exhibition, my fingers move faster, coaxing me ever closer to the cliff’s edge.

Even though my eyes are closed and there is a cacophony of noise in the room, I know it’s him who growls the final command that makes me break. “Cum now!”

Before he’s even done speaking, I climax on stage in front of all these males. Bolts of fire stream through my veins like an intravenous opiate and my own liquid pleasure drips down my thighs. I’m flying. Lost in the clouds. Shooting past the stratosphere and into deep space.

My lungs are burning alongside my cheeks as my eyes slowly pop open. Chest rising and falling, I absorb the crowd’s stunned reaction. Many of them have been holding their breath alongside me. I suspect an equal number found their own releases, too.

It’s painfully silent for several moments.

Then the Voltan explode into action like a disrupted anthill.

Paddles begin to rise and men shout out offers before the announcer can even state a price.

Soldiers erupt from their seats and argue with those standing around them.

The noise in the great hall is deafening.

I’ve never felt so alone in all my life.

Yet even in all this chaos, he is still watching me. My officer. His body is relaxed and sated as he does up his zipper. A satisfied grin is spread across his full lips as his paddle smoothly rises into the air.

The announcer tries to wrestle back control of the room, but it’s a lost cause. The men are agitated, and the fear of what might happen next is palpable.

“Silence or we end this auction right now!” The auctioneer threatens, and the soldiers grudgingly take their seats.

I’m shaking from head to toe. Wrapping my arms around my ample chest, the weight of what I’ve been asked to do, and what I’ve willingly done, settles over me.

Shame, fierce and strong, washes over my flushed body.

What would my parents say if they knew what had taken place here today?

They’d disown me as their daughter. Accuse me of being a wanton.

A loose woman. A lowly creature of the night.

The announcer takes back control of the room, despite my thinking him unable. Once again, the auction is resumed. A feverish dance of paddles ensues, as my price rises higher and higher like a balloon caught in a windstorm.

The last thing I remember before I hear the word “sold”, are blue eyes staring directly into my soul and a smile so sinfully beautiful, I know there’s no chance of me escaping this new life with my own fully intact.