Sold at Auction – Bound for Service Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 62063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
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“Good, columba,” he murmured, his praise a balm to my wounded pride. “Bene, columba.”

At last he pulled the girl trainer from my mouth and stepped back. I watched him make his way a few steps to a throne-like chair and sit in it.

“Come here,” Malleus commanded. He patted his lap, and I cautiously rose and approached, settling myself as instructed. His hand found its way between my legs, possessively holding my pussy and bottom, reminding me of his control.

“Listen carefully,” he began, his tone serious. “This is your mission briefing. You will be taken to a secret auction in Legeria. There, you will be sold, with the near-certain expectation that Anton Delacroix will buy you. We have chosen you in part because our intelligence indicates your physical type is irresistible to him, and we don’t get that kind of thing wrong.”

“Delacroix?” I echoed, my voice trembling.

“A Legerian magnate affiliated with the Groupe Synergistique. You will obtain a copy of the information on his secure computer. I will tell you more about that tomorrow, but there is something you need to know about Delacroix’s chateau. Marcus Blackthorne will also be present. He is a Pretorian Guard agent embedded within Delacroix’s household. His true identity must remain a secret at all costs.”

“How will I communicate with him?” I asked, my mind racing with questions.

“You won’t,” Malleus replied, his grip tightening slightly. “The surveillance will be constant. You must rely on your training and instincts.”

The enormity of my mission began to sink in, a mixture of fear and determination swirling within me. Malleus’ hand remained steady, grounding me in the moment as I contemplated the path ahead.

Malleus’ grip on my waist tightened as he held me in his lap, the leather of my Ostia restraints pressing into my bare skin. His hand between my legs grew active as he continued the mortifying “briefing.”

I whimpered as his fingers possessively curled around my most intimate parts. I felt my need seep onto my miles’ fingers, and my cheeks blushed fiercely even as the stark dominance of his grip sent a shiver through me, both thrilling and degrading.

“Marcus will be responsible for your discipline,” Malleus said, his voice low and commanding. “He will train you as Delacroix’s new concubine. His fuck toy. Delacroix will take your virginities.”

His thumb began to circle my clit with agonizing slowness, each touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through my body. I fought to keep my breathing steady, but it came out in ragged gasps.

“You must remain focused and obedient,” he continued, his other hand moving to stroke himself. “Marcus will not be lenient. Delacroix enjoys watching his concubines punished.”

I nodded, my mind a whirlwind of fear and anticipation. The thought of Marcus—this unseen, unknown figure—training me, disciplining me, filled me with a strange mix of dread and longing. What kind of man was he? How would he handle my disobedience?

“Remember, columba, you belong to the Guard now,” Malleus murmured, his fingers delving deeper into my virgin pussy, teasing me mercilessly. “Your loyalty is not just expected; it is required.”

“Yes, miles,” I managed to whisper, my words barely audible in my head over the thudding of my heart.

“Think about the Iliad,” he said, to my surprise.

I felt a shudder go through my body at the unexpected command. I blinked up at Malleus.

“I would be sure you’d read it even if our surveillance didn’t confirm the fact.”

“What, miles?” I asked, my voice thick with the soothing delight his skillful fingers roused between my thighs. “I mean… what about the… I mean…”

I tried not to make it a question, because I knew every question besides How may I serve? was useless in the eyes of the Pretorian Guard, when it came from a columba. I failed, because Malleus’ hand knew its work too well.

“You must be Briseis, Achilles’ prize. You must move the story while appearing to be no more than a bed girl. Think of what Briseis must have seen—what she might have told Agamemnon about Achilles, or vice versa, after Achilles got her back.”

I shuddered, my hips jerking as Malleus emphasized his heady words with earthy movements of his strong fingers. Briseis… I must… I thought I understood, and the idea filled me with pride, and fear. Malleus was telling me how much I could do, while appearing only to submit. How much I could learn without any need to ask useless questions.

“Yes, miles,” I whispered finally.

“Good,” he said, his voice a growl of satisfaction. His fingers moved faster, more insistently, driving me towards the precipice of ecstasy. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, my arousal building to an unbearable peak.

“Now imagine miles Marcus,” Malleus commanded. “Picture him caning you for touching yourself without permission. Imagine his dominance over you.”

The image seared itself into my mind—Marcus, his stern eyes watching me, his strong hands punishing me. The thought alone was enough to push me over the edge. My body convulsed, a scream ripping from my throat as the orgasm tore through me, leaving me breathless and trembling.


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