Rome watched carefully as one of the clients who he noticed was Lycan forced one of the slaves to splay her legs wide as he penetrated her. The girl looked about the same age as Elora’s sister.
Rome risked a glance at Elora and found that she had tears streaming down her face. She must have been reliving one of her worst nightmares. He pulled her along, his grip on her arm soft enough not to hurt her but hard enough to fool the slavers into thinking she was his slave.
A bell suddenly rang within the tent, causing everyone to pause. It seemed that within the private auction, there was an even more private auction taking place. That was the place they wanted to be. Perhaps they would identify the bastard running this foul show.
Elora tugged on his arm, her eyes hard as she nudged him subtly towards the sound of the bell. Rome looked at her, realizing that even if she hated being here, she might really want to help these slaves become free.
“All those who would like to partake of the exclusive auction, come this way please.” The slaver in the top hat holding the bell called, but as the bulk of people began to approach him, he added, “Bidding starts at a 200, 000 Incas.”
Most of the people who had been approaching the inner tent decided to stay in this part of the auction. Only a handful of people walked on and they were mostly Lycan. The slaves at this point were expensive and many Lycan’s had money.
To enter, Rome had to pay the initial deposit of a hundred thousand Incas.
“Stop. I need to check ye in. This is a private auction.” The slaver at the entrance said in a rather husky voice. He had a cigarette in one hand, taking a long drag as he spoke.
Rome halted, nearly baring his teeth. He was not used to people commanding him. He gave an indulging smile remembering his role and reminding himself that soon he could deal with these men however he wished. He was Kaligan the merchant now and not the King.
“Greetings.” Rome smiled languidly, pulling Elora to him forcefully with an arm around her waist.
His cock twitched as his hands dug into the softness of her sides.
“Don’t I know ye?” The slaver asked staring intently at Elora’s face, “Are ye not the Belany girl from Darwin?”
“I-” Elora had started to say.
“How dare you speak, slave?” Rome scolded her, glaring at her for the slip-up, “She ain’t no Belany girl. Found her in the south, they said.”
“Hmmm… Sure does look familiar though.” The man muttered, raising a skeptical brow and puffing a bit more smoke. “Ye can go right on in. The lassie will come in handy later. Slaves are allowed in for a little while to wet their master’s cocks.”
“Of course.” Rome’s smile widened and he drew Elora even closer, letting his hand slip down to her soft derriere for show.
Fuck! He thought, why did she have to be so soft?
“Ye’d better hold her tight now.” He smirked, “This one’s a beauty. Don’t want some rich bugger snatching her off ye.” He continued before opening the drape for them to enter.
Rome gave him a tight nod.
This part of the tent was made with pale blue silk drapes that gave a playful edge to the room. The air was perfumed with fragrant herbs and spices scattered about the room. The space was considerably cleaner and better furnished with soft cushions beside each heavily decorated seat.
The slave girl who worked in the room showed Rome to one of the chairs at the other end in the first row. He pushed Elora down to kneel beside him on the couch and was impressed with how well she sunk into the role.
There were thirty clients, in total, within this particular tent. Rome noticed as he looked around that they were mostly Lycans and the ones who were werewolves looked like they were familiar with the night’s proceedings.
Thirty clients were ready to pay a shit ton of Incas to buy people and make them their toys. Rome thought.
Rome couldn’t recognize any of the Lycans in the room and was glad that none of them had seen through his disguise even though they watched him out of the corners of their eyes.
A slaver dressed in a long green coat walked into the tent with a flourish, crashing into the slave girl by the door who hadn’t expected his sudden arrival. While trying to steady herself, the girl grabbed his coat.
“Fucking hell!?” He yelled, slapping her across the face. “You piece of shit!! How dare you touch me?”
And before anyone could bat an eye lid, he had pulled a gun and shot her in the head. The girl dropped to the floor, blood pouring from the gaping bullet hole in her forehead, eyes wide open from the fear that had overtaken her before death.
“Take this shitty thing outta here. Bring me another to work.” He yelled.
Then he turned to the clients in the tent and smiled. It was almost a believable smile. Rome was shocked at the cold-blooded way the man had disposed of the girl and returned to smiling at them as if nothing happens. It was almost surreal like he had just killed a cockroach that had bothered him. No sign of remorse or guilt, in sight.
“Hello, gentlemen!” He greeted, moving his fingers around. His lips were painted a shocking red and he had rings on all ten fingers. “Sorry about that. I’m Farrel and I will be standing in for you know who runs this place.” He laughed and continued. “Well, Of course! You don’t know who runs this place. Almost no one does. But let’s get to it, shall we?”
There was a murmur of approval.
“When we start, you can have your present slaves make you comfortable. It’s all allowed but later on, we’ll send the old maids out so you can sample your new treasures if you wish.”
Farrel talked pretty fast with a high pitch and his eyes were a deep grey that reflected the light from the lamps.
All around the room, people had started undoing breeches and motioning their slave girls to suck them off.
Rome looked at Elora beside him and the erotic image of her soft full lips doing something like that had him harder than he had ever been.
Despite his need to avoid her, he knew he had to act fast before someone noticed them. He waved a hand in her face, bringing her out of her reverie. He then pointed to the floor, signaling her to kneel.
Elora dropped to her knees without delay as he pretended to unstrap. He looked straight at her, sending her a sort of apology with his eyes, as she shifted closer to his crotch.
She seemed stiff like she didn’t know what to do so he helped improve their farce by grabbing the back of her head and bobbing it to create the illusion that she was sucking him off.
The embarrassment of the situation had his erection going down quickly. For which, he was grateful.
It would do for a very awkward situation if she was pressed against his hard-on for however long they needed to keep their farce.