Page 4 of Sold at Auction

I sat frozen in the simple task chair at the simple interview table, my mind a chaotic storm of conflicting emotions. Shock and fear kept coursing through me, icy tendrils wrapping around my heart. That something else, though, it remained present, too. Unwillingly, I identified it as arousal, rising unbidden in response to this man’s—Malleus? Is that what he said?—command.

“Wh-what?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands trembled as I clutched the hem of my blouse, torn between compliance and resistance. A part of me, to my utter horror, considered obeying him, the thought of undressing under his stern gaze sending a shiver down my spine.

“No,” I said finally, mustering what little courage I had left. “I won’t do it. I want to leave.”

Malleus’ expression remained impassive, his gaze never wavering. “You’ve been identified as a prime candidate for sexual service through data mining of your online activity,” he stated matter-of-factly. “The Order of Ostia has recruited you, and you have no choice in the matter. Your family will be told you have been selected for a prestigious but secret corporate program.”

“The… the Order of… of what?” I said. A spark of hope ignited in my chest. “But… oh, wait… I thought… I think the receptionist… Gail? Was that her name? I think she… I’m supposed to be interviewing…”

Malleus let me go on that far, and then he interrupted.

“For the Ostia Modeling Agency,” he said. “Which is the front for the Order of Ostia. You’re in the right place. Take off your clothes.”

“That’s insane!” I protested, pushing my chair back and rising from it. “You can’t do this! Let me go!”

“Strip,” he commanded again, his tone brooking no argument. “Or I’ll take your clothes off for you.”

My pulse quickened, panic flooding my senses. I knew rationally that I had no chance of escape. The room was small, windowless, and the door behind him seemed an insurmountable barrier. Yet, the thought of submitting to his authority, of baring myself before him, filled me with a desperate need to get out of there at all costs.

Without another word, I lunged for the door, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew it was futile, but I couldn’t help the primal urge to flee. My pumps clicked frantically against the polished floor as I reached for the handle, my fingers brushing the cold metal.

In an instant, Malleus was upon me, his strong hand gripping my wrist with effortless precision. He pulled me back, spinning me around to face him. His piercing blue eyes held a mixture of irritation and amusement.

“You’re trying my patience, columba,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “And I don’t mind imposing consequences for misbehavior on lovely young virgins like yourself.”

A wave of helplessness washed over me, mingling with the shame and arousal that his touch evoked. His grip was unyielding, his presence overwhelming. Despite my struggles, I couldn’t deny the traitorous heat seeping between my legs, a mortifying testament to his dominance.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling with a blend of fear and helpless, forbidden desire. “Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t ask useless questions, columba,” Malleus replied, his tone devoid of mercy. “You belong to the Order now, and you will learn to submit.”

Tears welled in my eyes, a mixture of frustration, fear, and the unbearable shame of my own body’s betrayal. My resolve wavered, teetering on the edge of submission. The battle within me raged on, each passing second a tortured eternity.

Malleus’ grip on my wrist tightened as he pushed me back against the cold, unforgiving wall of the interview room. My heart pounded in my chest, a wild drumbeat that seemed to echo in the confined space. His eyes, those piercing blue orbs, locked onto mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“Since you insist on making this difficult,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with iron, “I’ll do it for you.”

Before I could react, his hands were on me, moving with a swift, practiced precision. He started with my pumps, stooping to slide them off my feet and tossing them aside with a casual flick. The loss of my shoes left me feeling even more vulnerable, exposed. I tried to kick at him, but he caught my ankle effortlessly, his grip bruising.

“Stop struggling, Sophia,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “You’re only prolonging the inevitable.”

My breath hitched as his fingers found the buttons of my blouse. Each one slipped free with a soft pop, the sound almost obscene in the tense silence of the room. As the fabric parted, I felt the cool air brush against my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms. My blouse fell away, revealing the sensible beige bra beneath. It seemed a stark contrast to the high-end fashion of Ostia’s office, a reminder of my ordinary, unremarkable life.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

He ignored my plea, his focus unwavering. His hands moved to my skirt next, unzipping it and letting it drop around my ankles. I stood before him in nothing but my undergarments, my cheeks burning with humiliation. Despite my fear, the treacherous heat coiled low in my belly, an arousal I couldn’t control.

“Such a lovely girl,” Malleus murmured, almost to himself, as he reached behind me to unclasp my bra. The straps slid down my shoulders, and I crossed my arms over my chest instinctively, trying to preserve some shred of dignity. He clearly had no intention of allowing me that shred of modesty. His hands gripped my wrists, pulling them away and pinning them to my sides.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice a dark caress. “So defiant, yet your body betrays you. Those pretty little nipples are as stiff as my cock.”

His gaze raked over me, taking in the sight of my naked breasts, the tiny nubs hardened to aching peaks. My mortification deepened, knowing he could see how my body responded to his touch.

His hands moved to the waistband of my panties. I struggled again, a futile effort, but he was relentless. With a swift motion, he ripped the legs of my panties, the tearing sound loud in the stillness. The ruined fabric joined the rest of my discarded clothing on the floor.

I stood before him, completely exposed, my body trembling with a mix of fear and unwanted desire. My shame grew as I felt a slick wetness gathering between my thighs.

To my utter horror, Malleus suddenly grabbed my arm and spun me around, then marched me the two steps to the table. He bent me over it, where I had expected to sit for a normal interview. The cold surface pressed against my bare skin, seeming to amplify my vulnerability.

---