The men of the founding families pause before the table. I see Lai between them, and he picks up a single rose thoughtfully, then exchanges it for a candle. He lights it, guarding the flame with the palm of his hand as he approaches me with a kind smile. The candle is tall and thin, and I watch in horror as beads of wax begin to slip down its base.
"Don't hurt me." The words fall from my lips before I can stop myself, making me hate my weakness. But I can't help it. I'm terrified. I don't want to get burnt. Lai ignores my desperate plea and positions the candle above my tits. I squirm in my restraints, fearfully glancing at the table where more men are picking up various objects, waiting their turn. The gun glints in the light, untouched - for now. The promise of being shot sends shivers of fear down my spine.
Suddenly, the wax drips on my skin and I yelp as it hardens on my chest. The sensation is painful, but not unwelcome, and I flush when my pussy floods, lubricating its walls as if in preparation.
Lai wordlessly reaches between my legs as if he can read my mind, rubbing his fingers over my sex and mumbling something to himself. He allows the candle to drip on me again and again, until I'm covered in red wax, shivering and on the verge of begging him to stop even though I swore to myself I wouldn't.
And then, he walks away. He blows out the candle and passes it to a maid, his interest lost.
I breathe a sigh of relief, but before I can catch my breath, the next man approaches. It's Easton. He's
offering me a beautiful, plump and velvety red rose.
My eyes meet his but I don't see warmth and kindness in his gaze. No, his dark eyes are almost completely black, and he slaps me with the rose, the thorns scratching me. I curse out loud, but every time I react to the pain, he hits me again and again, covering me in scratches from the rose's thorns. Soon enough, I realize he's testing me, forcing myself to stay quiet the next time the thorns brush against my skin.
"Good girl," he mutters when I only twitch when I get hurt. "You learn so fast."
One by one, the men test my limits. They toy with me. They pinch me. My nipples harden under the constant attention to them, my pussy dripping on the floor and making me so embarrassed I'm convinced death would be a better fate than this. I hate this town. I hate them all.
Finally, Dex stands before me. His eyes are thunderous, and I wonder what it's like for him to see me treated this way. He can't do anything to stop it, not while I'm under Father's roof. My only hope is that he wants me enough to fight... to bid on me, and make me his forever.
He doesn't say a word, his fingertips gliding over my cheek, over my Cupid's bow, down to my scratched and bruised tits. His touch is gentle and kinder than I've ever known it to be. I breathe a sigh of relief. He won't hurt me. Dex won't hurt me when everyone else has.
Instead, he kneels down next to me. He examines my pussy and I whimper, knowing he sees how wet and needy I am and being so embarrassed by it I want to just burst into tears.
"Please," I whisper instead. "Don't hurt me anymore."
He looks up into my eyes, his gaze hardening. Then, he brings his palm down on my pussy, slapping hard.
"Ow!"
"Shut up," Dex mutters. "We both know you love it."
I feel betrayed, broken and abused as he walks away from me after that single slap. I shouldn't have expected anything else. He always just wants to hurt me. I have no one on my side here, not even Dexter Booth. He doesn't care. Fuck knows if he'll even bid on me.
For the next few hours, I'm subjected to pleasure, torture and everything in between by the attendants of the auction. They pinch my nipples, slap me, scratch me, hurt me, give me brief bursts of pleasure that drive me insane. I want to scream, but I keep my mouth stubbornly shut, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a response.
Finally, time is almost up, but there's one last person in line - Audra's father.
He watches my expression change from fear to pure horror as his fingers glide over the gun on the table. No one else has picked that up before, and my stomach tightens into fearful knots as he picks it up, lazily walking closer and regarding me with morbid curiosity.
"Such a nice piece," he mutters, admiring the gun. "A revolver. I've shot with one plenty of times. Want to know what these kinds of guns are perfect for?"
I shut my eyes tightly, pretending he's not there, but he's determined to get a reaction from me. He kneels in front of me, opening the cylinder of the gun. There's a single bullet in there,. with five empty slots. Audra's father smirks at me, closing the cylinder and spinning it. My blood runs cold.
"Russian roulette, my darling. You want to play?"
It feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. I don't respond, but he grins, aiming the gun at my temple. My body tenses. I have a one-in-six chance of dying right here, right now, if he fires that gun.
"N-No," I manage to get out.
"You're scared? Poor little pet." He laughs and pulls the trigger.
My life doesn't flash in front of my eyes, but I feel myself go deathly still, anticipating the end. But it doesn't come. There was no bullet.
"Fuck," I breathe.
"Fuck indeed," Audra's father bellows, spinning again. "Let's give it another try."