Page 13 of Sold at Auction

To my distress, though, I dreamt over and over of Malleus punishing me, of standing over me, of unzipping his pants, of showing me his true authority, and making me serve him in the most shameful way. In the morning, fearful of punishment and mindful of my leathers, I jumped out of bed and grabbed the Iliad.

After my first shower that day (I took one after both of my workouts), Malleus silently dried me off and put me back in my leathers as he always did, but instead of bringing me back to my cell, he led me to a new room in the mithraeum. Over the arch was carved an image that made me swallow, and blush: the heroic figure I had come to recognize as Mithra was fucking a kneeling woman, her face bowed low to the ground.

Inside, the mirrored walls, identical to those in the Hall of Physical Training, reflected very different furniture. Benches with rings that clearly matched the ones on my leathers. Racks of straps, canes, and paddles. Cabinets—from one of which Malleus took a length of white silicone that I recognized with a hot blush as Dr. Demetriou’s girl trainer.

“Today, you will learn the art of giving pleasure with your mouth,” Malleus told me, his tone leaving no room for refusal. “This is not merely about technique, but also about control and obedience. This is the one sexual skill with which you will leave here, when you depart for your mission tomorrow. Kneel.”

I felt my eyes go wide and my mind stir with all the questions I knew Malleus wouldn’t answer, but I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat. Every fiber of my being screamed rebellion, but my body moved of its own accord, kneeling obediently before my miles. Malleus’ presence loomed over me, his hands guiding my head towards the silicone shaft.

“Begin,” he commanded, his voice a velvet whip.

Tentatively, I wrapped my lips around the trainer, my tongue exploring its smooth surface. The thrusts began, gentle at first, then more insistent, coaxing responses from me that I had never known existed. Malleus’ hand rested on the back of my neck, a possessive pressure that both grounded and aroused me.

“More,” he urged, his fingers tightening ever so slightly. “Use your tongue. Savor it.”

Heat woke between my legs, an uncontrollable craving that grew with each passing moment. My movements became bolder, more assured, as I worked the trainer with increasing fervor, trying to please the imaginary master from whose lap it jutted. Malleus’ words guided me, explicit and unrelenting, painting vivid images of what he demanded.

“Faster. Deeper. Make your mouth as pleasurable as your cunt. Let your master use you as he chooses, columba.”

Desperation clawed at my insides as the deep thrusts heightened my arousal, despite the way my gag reflex threatened to kick in, over and over. The soreness in my muscles from my physical training only served to amplify my need, the ache a constant reminder of my submission. I whimpered around the trainer, my hips rocking involuntarily, seeking a release that remained agonizingly out of reach.

“Please,” I gasped, pulling away just long enough to voice my plea. “Please, miles. I need… I need more.”

Malleus removed the trainer from my mouth, his hand moving to cup my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his. His expression was unreadable, a mask of dominance that stirred something primal within me.

“Your needs are irrelevant,” he said coldly. “But your obedience is paramount.”

“Please, sir,” I implored, my voice raw with longing. “Please fuck me. I need it so badly.”

His silence stretched, a tangible force that wrapped around my heart and squeezed. Then, slowly, he shook his head.

“No, columba. Your virginity belongs to the Guard. It will be sold in a few days time, and the man who takes it must believe you are innocent.”

A choked sob escaped my lips, my body quivering with unfulfilled desire. Malleus’ hands returned to my hair, guiding my head back to the trainer.

“Continue,” he ordered, and I obeyed, my mouth once again enveloping the silicone shaft.

“Good, columba,” he murmured, his praise a balm to my wounded pride. “Bene, columba.”

At last he pulled the girl trainer from my mouth and stepped back. I watched him make his way a few steps to a throne-like chair and sit in it.

“Come here,” Malleus commanded. He patted his lap, and I cautiously rose and approached, settling myself as instructed. His hand found its way between my legs, possessively holding my pussy and bottom, reminding me of his control.

“Listen carefully,” he began, his tone serious. “This is your mission briefing. You will be taken to a secret auction in Legeria. There, you will be sold, with the near-certain expectation that Anton Delacroix will buy you. We have chosen you in part because our intelligence indicates your physical type is irresistible to him, and we don’t get that kind of thing wrong.”

“Delacroix?” I echoed, my voice trembling.

“A Legerian magnate affiliated with the Groupe Synergistique. You will obtain a copy of the information on his secure computer. I will tell you more about that tomorrow, but there is something you need to know about Delacroix’s chateau. Marcus Blackthorne will also be present. He is a Pretorian Guard agent embedded within Delacroix’s household. His true identity must remain a secret at all costs.”

“How will I communicate with him?” I asked, my mind racing with questions.

“You won’t,” Malleus replied, his grip tightening slightly. “The surveillance will be constant. You must rely on your training and instincts.”

The enormity of my mission began to sink in, a mixture of fear and determination swirling within me. Malleus’ hand remained steady, grounding me in the moment as I contemplated the path ahead.

Malleus’ grip on my waist tightened as he held me in his lap, the leather of my Ostia restraints pressing into my bare skin. His hand between my legs grew active as he continued the mortifying “briefing.”

I whimpered as his fingers possessively curled around my most intimate parts. I felt my need seep onto my miles’ fingers, and my cheeks blushed fiercely even as the stark dominance of his grip sent a shiver through me, both thrilling and degrading.

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