Page 10 of Sold at Auction

The faint flicker of candlelight cast elongated shadows on the somber walls of Anton Delacroix’s study. The scent of beeswax mingled with the musk of aged leather and rich mahogany, creating a heavy atmosphere that almost seemed to weigh palpably upon my shoulders. I stood at near-attention by the fireplace, the way I always did with Delacroix. The embers offered scant warmth against the chill clinging to the grand room.

“Marcus,” Delacroix began, his voice a low rumble that demanded attention, “I think it’s time to acquire another fucking piece. The secret auction is only a few weeks away.”

His gray eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger as he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. I could see the excitement twisting through his features, a cruel anticipation that made my skin crawl.

“A new concubine?” I asked, maintaining my composed façade. “You can spare the cash?”

Not what I need right now, I thought to myself, a little sourly. Delacroix’s head of security—me—had responsibility for supervising the submissive young women he kept in the West wing of the chateau. If I had been simply the dominant, brutal thug that had represented my cover for the last eighteen months, I probably would have enjoyed the duty greatly.

Traditionally, Delacroix’s heads of security had enjoyed the privilege not just of disciplining the girls but also of fucking them whenever they liked. As an elite agent of the Pretorian Guard, a miles sworn to protect submissive young women as well as to dominate them, my feelings were a good deal more complicated.

“Oh, indeed,” Delacroix replied, a thin smile curling his lips. “The arrangement with Legerian National Power just refilled my coffers admirably. An innocent from the secret auction is exactly how I think I should celebrate.” He looked pointedly at me. “How we should celebrate. I’ll share her with you, obviously, after I’ve had all her maidenheads.”

I set my face hard, the kind of performance I’d developed to what felt like high art, to reflect Delacroix’s coarseness back at him.

“An innocent, you say,” I mused, my tone carefully neutral. “You’re hoping for a tight ride, I take it.”

Delacroix smiled broadly, pleased as usual with my ability to goad him subtly onward.

“Precisely,” he said. “The cunt won’t be quite as tight when you get to fuck her, but I know you won’t mind too much.”

“An innocent concubine requires delicate handling of course,” I said, choosing my words with precision. “Her innocence, while appealing, may also mean she lacks the understanding necessary to meet your… expectations.”

“Ha,” Delacroix said, slapping his knee in the affected way he had when trying to project amusement. “You’re angling to have more time to… train her, I suppose.”

“Training her to our standards will take time and effort,” I continued. “There is always the risk that her naiveté could lead to resistance or misunderstandings. Such challenges could disrupt the harmony you’ve so meticulously cultivated here.”

“Resistance?” Delacroix scoffed, his tone laced with condescension. “I trust you are more than capable of quelling any such defiance.”

“Of course, Monsieur Delacroix,” I assured him, my voice unwavering. “My concern lies not in my ability but in the additional time required. It’s crucial that she… let’s say… transitions smoothly into her role, without causing undue disturbance.”

Delacroix stared at me, his cold eyes searching for any hint of weakness. I met his gaze steadily, aware of the tightrope I walked. My loyalty to the Pretorian Guard demanded I remain vigilant, yet my position required absolute fealty to this man who reveled in the degradation of others.

“Very well,” Delacroix said finally, his tone begrudgingly approving. “Your caution is noted, and I will allow you extra time before you bring her to my bed for her first fucking. But remember, Marcus, I expect nothing less than perfection.”

“Understood,” I replied, inclining my head slightly. “I will ensure she is properly trained and disciplined.”

Near silence fell on the study, the low crackle of the fire the only sound. I hoped for a moment that he would dismiss me, but Anton Delacroix loved to dwell on such matters, and he began again a short time later.

“Your concerns are noted, Marcus,” he murmured, his voice a low, almost purring sound as he shifted in his high-backed chair. The candlelight cast flickering shadows over his sharp features, making his platinum hair gleam like tarnished silver. “But I have every confidence in your abilities. You have never disappointed me before. Three concubines you have trained for my bed, each more obedient than the last. Perfectly smooth cunts, tight little bottoms, mouths that close on the cock like velvet roses. Your methods, Marcus, are… effective.”

“Your trust is an honor, Mr. Delacroix,” I said, forcing a semblance of gratitude into my tone. Each word was a careful calculation, designed to maintain the balance between subservience and the hidden strength I wielded. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“Go and get Delphine,” he told me. I had to force back a smile, because I had known this order would come sooner or later. “Bring her to my bed in her red lingerie. Tell her to clean her anus and present it properly this time.”

“As you wish, monsieur,” I told him. I felt a good deal of pride in Delphine, the third of the young women I had trained for Anton Delacroix. I had taught her how to do everything her master wanted without surrendering herself to the degradation. Delphine’s pain-slut submissive sexuality helped, of course.

In fact, her happiness as Delacroix’s favorite represented the heart of the reason the news of his wish to acquire a new fuck toy at the secret auction was unwelcome. I had thought the magnate would hold on to her for a year at least, simplifying my own job in the chateau and giving me more leeway to fulfill my mission.

As I moved through the silent hallways of Delacroix’s chateau, my thoughts flickered back to the conversation. Delacroix’s confidence in my abilities was both a weapon and a chain. It bound me to my role, yet provided the leverage I needed to steer the dynamics in my favor. Each step echoed softly on the marble floors like a reminder of the delicate balance I must maintain.

Reaching the end of the corridor, I stopped by a tall window, its glass cool against my fingertips. The moon hung low, casting a silvery sheen over the landscaped gardens below. Shadows danced in the night, mirroring the intricate web of deceit and loyalty I navigated.

My cover as Delacroix’s head of security afforded me access to secrets and strategies, but it also placed me in constant peril. The Pretorian Guard’s mission was paramount, yet my growing entanglement with Delacroix’s world made it increasingly complex.

A new girl, I thought. An innocent to protect. Not the most helpful imaginable thing when you’re trying to save the world.

Sophia

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