Sloan slept through the night and, though she didn’t know it, through much of the day, so exhausted was she. A timid slave girl woke her up sometime in the afternoon and bade her to follow. Sloan was bathed (again! Two baths in two days!) and her hair brushed by the slave girl, then Sloan put on her panties and dress and shoes and was led to lunch. Her brain was still fuzzy, so it came as a small shock to her system when they came upon a partially opened door. She glimpsed the room beyond, where several seated men were watching a small stage where a naked woman danced and…

 

They passed by but the sight stuck like a fishbone in Sloan’s mind’s eye and everything she had learned about her new life rushed back to her with force. She stumbled in her heels and had to support herself against the wall for a few seconds while the slave girl turned back with concern in her eyes and a helpful arm. I can’t do this, her mind yelped but she forced herself to push the thought down and continued to walk. She could do this. She really had no choice – the alternative was probably prison, which she could only imagine would be much worse.

 

Lunch looked and smelled just as delightful as last night’s dinner had been, but the immediacy of Sloan’s situation gnawed at her nerves like wolves worrying a bone and she could do no more than nibble at her food. She nearly yelped out loud when Marie tapped her on the shoulder.

 

“Done eating? No, just leave them there – the slaves will clear your plates. Come with me.”

 

Sloan nodded and stood, though her hands shook and her knees threatened to collapse, and followed Marie to a small room beside the baths.

 

"All right, it is time. Take off your clothes and bend over."

 

Sloan complied, forcing her trembling hands to grip her dress and pull it off, to hang it neatly upon a hook on the wall, to pull down and step out of the silken panties. She took a deep breath, still clinging to the soft material of the panties like a prayer chain, and bent over, resting her hands on the counter.

 

She heard Marie open a jar and the scent of lavender filled the air. A moment later, Sloan jumped as Marie's slippery hand ran up the channel of her ass. She gasped out loud when Marie's finger pushed its way past her sphincter.

 

"This will help you keep lubricated. If you are too dry, it won't be comfortable for you or for your clients. Arch your back."

 

Sloan complied, though her trepidation increased with each breath. Marie's fingers ran along her vagina, slathering oil on and in every fold and crevice. She jumped again as Marie's fingers pressed inward.

 

But then Marie stopped with a suddenness that made Sloan every more nervous.

 

"What...wait. It can't be."

 

Marie's fingers removed themselves and Sloan braced herself. She couldn't help feeling vaguely violated, though she knew it was a silly feeling, considering what was to come soon after.

 

"Have you ever been with a man?"

 

Sloan blinked and looked back. Marie had an odd expression on her face.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I mean, have you had sex before?"

 

"I...no." Sloan shook her head, and was mystified by Marie's reaction - a wide smile crossed her face.

 

"Then we are in luck. Get dressed and come with me. You will make up a good portion of the money you owe tonight!"

 

Sloan pulled on the panties and the dress and hurried after Marie, remembering only as they left the room to walk the way she had been taught. They made their way down a hallway and through a door.

 

The room they entered was filled with decadence. The lanterns were mostly shuttered, so the room was dim. Gauzy draperies hung from the walls, giant soft couches lined the walls, a few tables set with silver polished so brightly that they gleamed even in the dimness sat in the center of the room. The low stage with a small catwalk filled one wall, though there was no longer a dancer occupying it. And, seemingly everywhere, men stood or sat, many with one or more women draped on their arms or lounging beside them. Marie led the way to the stage, and as soon as they stepped upon it, most of the room stilled.

 

"Gentlemen," Marie said. "Welcome to the Vixen. Tonight we have a special auction. Meet Jasmine, the newest member of our little family."

 

It took Sloan a second to realize that Marie was referring to her. She curtsied to the murmuring crowd, still uncertain what was happening.

 

"Gentlemen, this is an auction to take Jasmine's maidenhead. That's right," as the murmurs grew louder, "Jasmine is a virgin, ripe for the picking. A rare thing in this day and age!" Someone shouted out a number, but Marie shook her head. "Nay, gentlemen, this will be a silent auction. We are not a chattel house, and Jasmine is not a slave. Bring your bid to me in the next hour. The highest bid will win the right to deflower Jasmine."

 

As the room erupted with talk, Marie leaned close to Sloan and whispered, "Your job right now is to stand up here and look timid but enticing. Like you do right now. Don't oversell it." She winked and stepped away from the platform, and several men moved toward her.

 

Sloan flushed and tried not to meet any of the hungry eyes that peered at her. Though clothed, she had never felt so exposed. She stood with her hands linked in front of her, swaying from one foot to the other to ease the pain in her feet. From time to time some of the men went with one of the other girls up the stairs or into one of the side rooms, and some left, only to be replaced by others. She stood through what felt like eternity until at last Marie stepped back onto the platform.

 

"Gentlemen, we have our winner. The maidenhead prize goes to...my Lord Harrald!"

 

A young man who wore a sneer like a habit stepped forward. "Of course it does. Come with me, whore." He held out a hand. Sloan's instinctive reaction was to shy back, but there was nowhere to run, and Marie jerked her head toward Harrald, prompting Sloan. Sloan reached out, and those few seconds when her hand was in the air but not yet in his seemed to last another eternity, one in which her path was still open, where nothing would change, where she was free to make her own choices, where she could still say no. Then his hand (softer than expected) gripped hers and reality crashed in.

 

She stepped off the dais and stumbled after him as he led the way up the stairs, along a hallway, and through an open door. The door closed behind them with a slam that felt like an exclamation.

 

"Let's look at you, hmm?" Harrald gripped Sloan's chin, lifted it, stared into her eyes. She tried to smile, as Marie had said, but it was difficult with his hand squeezing her mouth. "Pretty enough. Let's see what else you have. Strip!"

 

Sloan blinked at the command, and her body yearned to flee, but she forced herself to breathe, to move her hands. She slid the shoes off - which was a relief, anyway - then, with trembling hands, she pulled off the dress and set it on a nearby chair, then looked back at him. His eyes followed the lines of her body with a hunger she had never experienced.

 

"Very nice!" He reached out and she couldn't help but flinch when his hands touched her shoulders. She took a deep, ragged breath as his fingers roamed down her arms, then up to her chest. He ran them over her breasts, and her nipples responded to the touch by swelling and darkening. His own breath caught and he leaned forward, placed his mouth over her right breast, and sucked at the nipple.

 

The sensation this caused took Sloan by surprise, and she let out an involuntarily, "Oh!" as a shock ran the length of her body. She found herself gripping the back of his head, pressing him further into her breast. His hands continued to move, running along her back and then down before gripping her ass. He squeezed and shoved her body against his. It was not...unpleasant. Sloan hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, giving a hug a try.

 

"Not bad at all," he said. "Now, let's get to work, shall we?" Harrald stepped back and jerked off his richly embroidered shirt, then flung his boots in a corner and took of his pants, all this so quickly that Sloan had no time to feel panic before he was already naked and throbbing and on her again.

 

This time he was not quite so gentle. He grabbed her and yanked off her panties, then picked her up and dumped her on the bed. He loomed above her, planked between her thighs, and didn't hesitate but drove himself into her. She let out a cry as pain snapped through her, a sharp tear that drowned out all other sensations. She gripped his shoulders with helpless abandon as he pushed into her again and again, each time grunting as he pushed, inhaling through his nose as he pulled back, so there was an audible rhythm of grunt, sniff, grunt, sniff, that quickened along with his pace. He kept his eyes firmly on her chest and he pushed, never meeting her eyes or even looking at her face. Finally he let out a loud grunting howl and his body shuddered. She felt an unexpected warmth spurt into her, once, twice, again, as he pushed a few more slow times, then collapsed on top of her. She let her hands dangle, not touching him, until at last he grunted and pushed himself off her. His slack penis and the hair around it was matted with sweat and blood, and red stained the sheet below her. He looked her over and nodded.

 

"Guess they weren't lying about you being a virgin. Congratulations on become a woman!" He laughed and started yanking on his clothes. Sloan couldn't find the energy to move - her body still ached, and her spirit seemed to have departed for another world. She just watched, still laying akimbo, as he pulled on his boots, smirked at her, and left the room.

 

Moments later, Marie appeared. She soothed Sloan, helped her up, and bundled her back to the baths, where Sloan soaked for a long time. The hot water felt nice to her aching body, but now it didn't seem quite as worth the cost. The tears that she had thought long gone finally arrived, and she wept into the water, wondering how she could survive this life in which she found herself trapped.