Page 14 of Surrender

“Take the female back to her cell,” she commanded. “And don’t you dare touch her, or I’ll drag you both back here and whipyourasses.”

Talia’s legs were shaking so badly she could barely stand upright. She shook off the guards and forced herself to take one step after another. The pain in her backside was nothing compared to the crushing humiliation she’d endured. She vowed that somehow she’d find the strength to go on.

She’d never let them conquer her spirit.

Chapter Ten

Kylar tried not to show his revulsion as he shouldered his way through the crowd. Balam had flushed the bowels of the galaxy to come up with the guest list for the auction. He shied away from a Jamron reaching out to rub his thigh with its slimy appendage. The vile creatures would copulate with anything.

Up ahead, he saw Haldor head to head with a Zolexian who had delivered the blatant insult of flashing his naked ass at the Viking after Haldor accidentally bumped him. Zolexians were known throughout the galaxy for their hot tempers, perceiving the slightest misstep by other beings as tantamount to acts of war.

“Swallow your pride,” he muttered, hoping Haldor could hear him through the din of beings communicating in every imaginable form. “We dare not draw attention to ourselves.” Haldor stiffened then bent and planted a kiss on the alien’s hairy ass. Mollified, the Zolexian pulled his tunic back down and moved on without giving Haldor a backward glance. Kylar knew that one way or another, the creature would suffer Haldor’s revenge before the night ended.

He glanced around the great hall, looking for his other men. With so many bizarre beings in the room, it was easy to blend into the crowd. His warriors all wore dark floor-length robes. Gloves hid the warm skin tones of their hands. Each one carried a dagger tucked into a hidden pocket. With hoods drawn up and their faces covered by carved demon masks, only their eyes, barely visible behind narrow slits in the masks, revealed their human identities.

The noise died down when Balam strode into the room, resplendent in a full-length cloak made from the vibrant feathers of the eskasis, a creature thought to be extinct everywhere in the galaxy. No doubt he’d slaughtered the last one in existence just to provide himself with the garment. Around his neck hung an elaborate necklace. Heavy gold links decorated with fangs and claws and other severed bits – not all of them from the animal kingdom.

Balam took the opportunity to preen, delivering an effusive welcoming speech in Gadolinian, the language of the world hosting the auction, as custom decreed. His words were repeated in a babble of strange tongues by interpreters from the other planets. Kylar spoke a little Naritean, and he was amused to hear the garbled translation of Balam’s words by the alien next to him. If the other translators were equally incompetent, their host would have a full-scale interplanetary war on his hands by the end of the night.

Balam turned the proceedings over to the auctioneer, a two-headed being from Ta Zery. A hermaphrodite, like all the beings from that planet, the auctioneer played up his/her unique physical composition to the hilt. One head sported a full beard and bushy moustache, while the other had flowing green hair, scarlet cheeks and mouth, and long purple eyelashes. The male head called out the bids in a booming voice while the female batted her eyes, flirting and teasing, baiting and coaxing.

Between them, they drove the crowd into a frenzy on the first lot, a tiny female said to be from a planet Kylar suspected did not exist. Stark naked, skin the color of a ripe dirimelon, her nipples were pierced with a trio of gold rings, each one larger than the next. The auctioneer’s male head bent, took the largest ring between his teeth, and gave it a tug.

Raising her voice to be heard over the captive’s squeal, the female head pointed out how easily this slave could be controlled. Bidding was fast and furious, and the male head declared the Zolexian Haldor had encountered to be the winner. Kylar caught Haldor’s eye, and the Viking gave him a nod. He guessed Haldor had decided the man wouldn’t survive long enough to enjoy his purchase.

Balam brought the merchandise out one lot at a time, never allowing the audience to see the next female until the one on the block had fetched the highest possible price. As for the slaves being sold, they all acted suitably submissive. Two of them were so docile Kylar suspected they’d been drugged into a stupor.

As the night went on, the crowd grew restless. Arguments broke out between creatures from vastly different worlds. Unsuccessful bidders shouted insults at the winning buyers. Balam changed his strategy and called for Leto and Sori to join him on the hastily constructed platform around King Sigrun’s throne. He raised a hand for silence then waited for the bedlam to die down before he spoke.

“Honored guests, I bring you now a very special lot, the one that led many of you to make the perilous journey here through multiple portals. Four Gadolinian females.”

Sori escorted the first of them to the center of the stage. A young woman, barely out of her teens. Kylar didn’t recognize her, but he was proud to see her stare defiantly at the crowd despite her nakedness. A true Viking woman, strong and unbowed. Her lush body drew lewd hisses from the Jamrons massed together in front of the stage.

Bidding was brisk, and a stooped old man from Lextron won the right to take her back to his planet. No doubt he hoped her youth would rekindle the fire in his wizened manhood.

She was whisked away, and Leto led two more naked women to the stage. Kylar heard a harsh cry from somewhere behind him. It was Gunnar, facing the spectacle of his beloved mate, Signe, on the auction block. He could only imagine the combination of rage and helplessness Gunnar felt, listening to the crude reaction of the crowd. Kylar wasn’t certain, but he thought the other woman might be the one Elwen called Irna, the tavern wench.

“These two will be sold together. They have been trained to put on a show for their master, guaranteed to heat even the blood flowing through the veins of an ice-dwelling Val ’an hermit.”

Sori uttered a sharp command and the two women turned to face each other. They stroked each other’s breasts, ran their hands down each other’s bodies.

Pandemonium broke out. Raucous cheers, lewd grunts, and moans. A dozen hands shot up to bid. Kylar backed his way through the crowd and put a restraining hand on Gunnar’s arm, fearing he’d jump into the fray. Gunnar shook him off, but Kylar could feel the tension radiating from the warrior’s body with the effort it took to stand there and watch while the woman he loved was put on display like a shameless slut.

With all the noise, Kylar risked muttering a single word. Drengr, the ancient Norse term that encompassed all that a Viking warrior was or ever sought to be. Brave. Valiant. With the strength to do what was right. He knew Gunnar would get the message. No matter how hard it was to stand silently by, they couldn’t risk showing their hand yet. Not until all the women had been auctioned off and the king stood in front of the assembled bidders. The gavel banged. Signe and Irna were sold to the harem of a Dalradian monarch.

Silence fell over the crowd. They all knew there was only one female left.

* * *

Talia didn’t flinch when the auctioneer’s rough hand pinched her nipple, twisting it cruelly. She’d learned not to cry out or resist in any way. It only made things worse.

“This one would make a fine addition to any collection.” Balam’s voice seemed to come from far away. “High-spirited, still a little wild, ready for the right master to tame her to fit his own – shall we say –uniquedesires.”

Sori swept Talia’s hair off her shoulders and prodded her with a stiff knuckle in the middle of her back, reminding her to stick her breasts out. She stood on the platform naked, save for an elaborate gold belt around her waist. It had been specially made for her, with a wide leather strap hanging down that fit snugly between her legs then narrowed and ran up between her bottom cheeks, leaving her ass bare. She’d endured several humiliating fittings for it, although they’d been insignificant compared to the other torments Sori inflicted on her.

“Note the golden mantle,” Balam said. “It has been eons since we featured one of these at an auction. It signifies that this female has not been used. Ever. Her trainers have examined her, and they guarantee it.” He waved a hand. Sori unfastened the belt, let it drop to the floor with a dramatic thud. “You can be the first to sample this virgin pussy.”

Balam might as well have tossed a live Iridian warhead into the crowd. They stomped. They howled. They roared. Despite her vow to show no emotion Talia couldn’t help cringing in shame. Every eye in the room was trained on her exposed pubic mound.

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