Page 5 of Sold at Auction

“You’re exactly what we need,” he murmured.

I felt his hand on my bare backside, his fingers probing, parting my folds with ease. I whimpered, trying to twist away, but his other hand, on the small of my back, held me firmly in place. His touch was skilled, exploring me gently but insistently, sending jolts of reluctant pleasure through me.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice smug. “We hardly need the doctor to verify beyond the shadow of a doubt that you’re the kind of girl we’re looking for, columba.” He paused, his fingers curling inside me, eliciting a gasp from my lips. “But your medical exam is important: we need to get precise numbers on you. And the nurse will wax your pussy for me, anyway. Once you’re bare down here, your new life will gain a certain immediacy for you.”

At his words, my pussy clenched involuntarily around his fingers, a reaction that filled me with a fresh wave of shame. How could my body respond this way? How could I find any semblance of arousal in such a degrading situation?

“You’re going to make a fine nupta, Sophia Larkwood, once your virginity is nothing but a memory,” Malleus chuckled, his voice rich with anticipation.

“Wait here,” he commanded, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine as he collected the remnants of my dignity—my clothes—and turned to leave. “I’ll be back shortly.”

I watched, heart pounding in my chest, as the door clicked shut behind him, sealing me in this small, windowless room that now felt like a cage. The silence was deafening, oppressively emphasizing the rapid thump of my heartbeat.

For a moment, I remained frozen, my mind racing with the implications of what had just happened. My skin still tingled where his hands had roamed, and shame mingled with an unwelcome flicker of arousal deep within me. How could I have responded so traitorously to his touch? My body’s betrayal stoked the fires of my resolve; I had to get out of here.

Testing the door handle cautiously, I found it unlocked. A glimmer of hope sparked inside me. Slowly, I cracked the door open, peering out into the deserted hallway. The sleek, modern opulence of the Ostia offices now seemed stark and menacing, each shadow a potential threat.

I took a deep breath, pushing aside the memory of Malleus’ degrading words and the skilled way his fingers had claimed my body. There was no time to dwell on that now. I had noticed earlier, when walking to this room, that the stairs were only a few feet away. If I could reach them, maybe—just maybe—I could make it to the lobby and call for help.

Steeling myself, I opened the door a little further and slipped out, my bare feet whispering against the cold, polished floor. The air felt cooler against my exposed skin, raising goosebumps along my arms and legs. Each step was a calculated risk, my senses heightened by the fear of being caught.

My rational mind knew the odds were slim. They had undoubtedly designed this place to keep people like me contained. But desperation lent wings to my feet and courage to my heart. As I neared the stairwell door, I felt a fleeting sense of triumph.

But before I could reach it, a voice—deep and authoritative—pierced the silence, freezing me in my tracks.

“The door was unlocked to test you, columba,” Malleus said, his tone laced with grim satisfaction. “And you passed, though I’m afraid you won’t like your reward.”

CHAPTER 2

Sophia

I spun around to see that Malleus had come up right behind me in the mere few seconds since his voice had stopped my flight. I shied away from him, but his right hand darted out with a speed that belied the apparent casualness of the movement, as if he had grown so accustomed to manhandling naked young women that he could do it effortlessly.

His grip on my upper arm was like a vice, though. His fingers dug into my flesh with an intensity that bordered on painful. As he marched me back to the interview room, each step he took reverberated through my body. The carpet absorbed the sound, but the movement felt somehow loud inside me, echoing in my limbs and amplifying the terror coiling in my stomach.

The brightly lit little room loomed ahead, its stark, clinical light glaring through the narrow window of the heavy door. With a final, decisive shove, Malleus pushed the door open and propelled me inside. The door clicked shut behind us, the sound slicing through the air with a sense of ominous finality that made my heart pound even harder.

He guided me to the nearest chair positioned in the center of the room. Still holding my arm, he sat down. His sheer physical strength communicated itself to me in every movement. I felt like a fragile, mishandled doll that he might easily break by using just a little too much force as he positioned me.

His eyes, piercing blue and unrelenting, locked onto mine for a moment as he started to pull me down, upending me and guiding me roughly over his knee. I lost sight of his face and the room became a blur for a moment, my balance completely gone as the floor seemed to rush up at me.

I struggled, my arms flailing and my hands curled into fists to try to hit out at him. I kicked. The resistance, however, seemed not only useless but completely irrelevant. My hands made contact with the fabric of his suit, and underneath it I felt muscles upon muscles, so hard that I wondered if Malleus could even feel my attempts at bodily defiance.

My limbs tensed involuntarily when the hard surface of his knee made contact with my abdomen, then my naked lap. I felt the texture of his suit trousers beneath me, my mortifying nudity here in this corporate setting a reminder of his control and my vulnerability.

Malleus hadn’t said anything, after telling me I would receive a “reward” for my “passing” his “test” and trying to escape. Somehow, despite a concerted effort to tell myself that I had no idea what he would do, I had known. I had known even as he marched me back down the hall, long before he had wordlessly made the matter completely clear by putting me over his knee this way.

I knew, deep down and in spite of absolutely not wanting to know, what happened at the Ostia Modeling Agency to naked girls who tried to run away. I let out a little sob as I felt his left hand seize my hip and his right hand take hold of my backside to reposition me slightly, raise my bottom, and lower my head. My mind raced, wondering what my first spanking would feel like, the uncertainty of the impending pain mingling with an unwelcome curiosity that I couldn’t quite suppress.

“Wait!” I tried. “I… I… won’t… I won’t try to run away?”

Malleus’ voice had a grim certitude in it. “After this reward, columba, I’m pretty sure that’s true.”

Again with the columba. What the hell was going on here?

His grip on my waist tightened, holding me firmly in place. His right hand had stayed on my butt, and the fingers rubbed a little circle there, as if to emphasize how enormous Malleus’ hand was and how little my bottom. I let out a whimper of mingled shame and fear. Under his hand I felt my skin prickle with goosebumps, every nerve ending alight with a heightened sensitivity that bordered on unbearable. The vulnerability of my position—the exposure, the helplessness—stripped away any pretense of composure.

The room seemed to shrink around us, the oppressive brightness of the lights focusing my attention solely on the sensations coursing through my body. My breath came in shallow, rapid gasps, my heart hammering against my ribcage as I tried to brace myself for what was to come.

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