Part 27: Ready for Auction

Suffocated by guilt, Jane couldn't relax. She sat frozen in her empty cell staring at her hardly touched food. Distant screams, no doubt Amare's, clawed at her ears, alongside the cruel sounds from compassionless machinery. Jane's imagination dragged her on a vivid tour of the unholy **** devices that were making such noses. At some point, Lilith entered her cell "Not hungry?" she inquired. Jane didn't look up to see the woman's expression or hair color. "I'll get you some ****-food with cum. That'll be better suited for someone like you."

Jane managed a weak nod.

Lilith hugged her from behind. "You were rather... strong willed in the past," she gently whispered into her ear, "but you're a **** now. Eventually Amare will understand that. For the time being though, I'll have to keep you separate."

Jane nodded again. The cruelty of what she'd done repeatedly trampled through her mind. She desperately needed to apologize to Amare, but maybe Lilith knew best. It felt terrible when the Luxvan walked away, leaving Jane in a pit of loneliness and regret.

Over the next few days, Jane obeyed all the slavers' instructions. Not to earn pleasure or avoid pain. Those she'd receive whenever it suited her Masters and Mistresses. She'd simply given up on thinking for herself. Knowing that her choices had caused Amare to suffer so needlessly made Jane lose faith in her own decision making. True to her word, Lilith had kept the two of them apart, but Jane hoped one day she'd be able to tell the councilwoman how sorry she was, and that she'd learned her lesson. Her extensive training continued. Jane was bound, punished and fucked in every degrading way she could imagine (and some ways even her own twisted fantasies couldn't have conjured). Each night she'd be locked in her cage exhausted, humiliated, and extremely horny. She was often kept naked, but was sometimes ordered to wrap the demeaning **** shift around herself or wear other skimpy outfits.

So it wasn't surprising when Master Monger put her in a tiny bra and thong combo before placing her on a table and ordering her to dance. She was in a small room thick with the smell of machine oil, some workshop that she didn't recognise (not that she'd bothered to memorize her master's ship). Her master had only shackled her ankles together and handcuffed her wrists in front of her, so Jane had a fair amount of freedom to move. Thus the formerly exemplary officer was able to sway and gyrate upon her metal platform, merely a background decoration while the grunts worked.

Ordinarily, the **** would have removed her garments as invitingly as possible, but Master Monger's exact order had been to persuade someone to undress her. Unfortunately, no matter how enticingly she danced, gliding her hands over her body, stretching her athletic legs, or tracing the vivid outlines of her hoop piercings through the thin material, the surrounding slavers paid her little attention. Maybe they were bored with her; every one of them had already enjoyed each of her holes at least once.

Jane's heart fluttered when one finally approached her. Dragging her finger down her panties, The **** looked at him and opened her mouth into an O-face then beckoned with her tongue. It was the closest she could get to offering oral sex without actually having any say in who fucked her holes. He hungrily stared at her but didn't touch her, or tug at the strings that would make her outfit slip away, He only pressed a small button hidden under the lip of Jane's table.

An electric surge jumped through her bra. With a pathetic yelp, the startled **** looked down at the tiny beads embedded in the sheer material of her bra and panties, evidently they were for more than just decorative. Her wince of pain quickly became a moan of delight as the beads switched to vibrating instead. Her body responded to this mixture of incentives quickly: the electricity giving her even more dislike for her attire, and the vibrations making her very eager for some naked fun.

Jane slid into a kneeling position to better spread her fettered legs. Every fiber of her being pleading for her lingerie to be stripped off. Was she a good ****? She'd been given the order to dance, but only truly let wanton passion dictate her movements once she'd discovered the encouragements woven into her thin attire. A jolt danced through her bra and she twisted in a subconscious attempt to escape her clothing. She slid her hands down her chest caressing her tits. No, she couldn't undress herself, but she could make suggestions. Her fingers found the knot nestled in her cleavage that held her soft bra together and tugged invitingly at its strings.

The merc's eyes lingered on her and he smirked. She again looked longingly at him, more **** this time, but his focus was elsewhere. Under the table, he tapped another button, and Jane started moving. Her pedestal slowly slid towards a wall which split with a hiss, revealing a large room beyond.

Surprise stunned Jane for several seconds as she took in the new vista. A massive dining hall stretched before her, draped with lush curtains to belie the nefarious nature of its occupants. Crime lords and petty conquers perused around the room, fondling and eye-fucking the displays. A half dozen slaves danced on tables similar to Jane's, and along one wall a small colony's worth of stasis pods had been placed. Their nude occupants were blissfully unaware of the auction and would remain so until they defrosted and found themselves property of some horny master or mistress. A twinge ran along Jane's perineum at the thought. The far wall had a stage with Councilwoman Amare. Jane's heart skipped a beat at the sight. The stunning woman was naked except for a posture collar, an armbinder and a spreader-bar which **** her into a lewd position.

As happy as she was to see the councilwoman, an icy hand gripped Jane's heart. A display of flashing lights announced that she'd been sold and the Syndicate would be picking her up soon. An echo in the back of her mind reminded Jane she was supposed to stop this. Panic and regret slammed into her with this reminder of her mission; Jane's eyes darted around the room. Were they already in the Syndicate's domain? Was this her last chance to see Amare? How long had it been since she'd been enslaved? Jane tried to count the days. A weak sliver of the officer she had been scolded her internally for not even bothering to do that much.

The vibrators within her panties came to life in asynchronous spurts, like rainfall from a truly heavenly source. It didn't matter, she realized; she couldn't save Amare even if she had a million years. She was a **** not a soldier. Yes, she felt guilty she couldn't help or even apologize to the elegant woman, but Jane had a lot to feel guilty about. Head humbled, she resumed her dance.

More unsavory characters from across the galaxy filtered into the room. Hungrily and submissively, Jane watched them, trying to gauge what they wanted, hoping they'd undress her and possibly do more. Few of them were paying attention to her (she was just a decoration after all). but she had managed to pull the gaze of a male and female Oo'lick. They wore revealing leather covered in spikes and smelled of hard liquor and other intoxicants. True desperation oozed through Jane as she stared at the cruel couple, wondering who they were. Pirates? Reavers? She stared lustfully at them, seductively swaying her body and subconsciously descending into a begging stance.

The shocks returned; Jane gasped as the pain prodded against her breasts and loins. She thrust her hips forward in short and **** movements, helplessly trying to wiggle out of her underwear. The female Oo'lick watched her with a sneer, then reached forward. Jane's heart skipped a beat, hoping she'd remove her panties, but the sadistic woman merely tapped a terminal on the table's edge, most likely placing a bid on the dancing ****.

After another minute of twisting and jiggling for their amusement, her thong began vibrating again. Jane reduced her squeal of delight to a moan, and crumbled to all fours. Wiggling her ass sensually, she tugged at her handcuffs. But her audience had other products to perusse. Seemingly losing interest, they walked past Jane's table, but as they left, the woman intentionally caught the ****'s panties on her armor spikes, taking the scrap of lingerie with her. The dancing **** gasped at the loss of her underwear, mourning the theft of its vibrators, but reveling in the exposure of her wet cunt.

However, she didn't have time to revel long. As she rolled into a tits up position, the lewdly laying **** heard the thunderous entrance of a large alien. It was a Jamreght, a particularly big and garishly scarred Jamreght, that Jane knew as Nell-Tok. The Jamreghts looked like abyssal sea-creatures, their bodies protected by a bony shell that was ridged with horns. Haphazardly placed holes in their carapace sprouted ropy tentacles that dragged their bulk along, and their bloated eyes peered out of other slits in their natural armor.

Tok was given space (even the hardened criminals wanting to keep some distance from the mad bull) as he slid directly towards Jane. His fawning assistant, a hunched humanoid of a species Jane didn't recognise, followed behind, his long tongue dangling. The hulking tentacle monster grew closer, clearly heading for Jane. "Remember me, cunt?" he asked in a guttural growl.

Jane nodded while trying to keep the rhythm of her dance. Tok had been another crime lord that the crew had interfered with. They'd never been able to capture him but had repeatedly ruined his endeavors. Clearly intent on recompense, Tok swallowed the distance between him and Jane, his massive shell scraping tables as he advanced. His tentacles snaked over her helpless body and cruelly ripped her top off, not even bothering with the knots. Only her inviting piercings stood between him and her most intimate areas.

Terrified and unsure of what to do, Jane tried to keep swaying her body in a sensual manner, but Tok's bestial grip stopped her from doing even that. "I'm going to buy you," he roared, speckling inky saliva onto her face. "And we're going to have a lot of fun. Our last little encounter carved up my reputation. I think daily gladiator broadcasts of a former Fed will help correct that." He chuckled threateningly. "Don't worry, you'll lose every time. I'll give you a malfunctioning gun or **** that disorient you just a bit. And after every defeat, you'll suffer the worst tortures known to sapients." His shell creaked as arousal swelled within his inhuman organs. "And then the broadcast will show all the humiliating things a proud federation officer will do to make the pain stop."

Jane stared blankly at the floor, feeling the monstrosity's slimy tentacles explore her body. A stone of dread coalesced within her. It seemed even in surrender misery awaited her, and she'd still harm her friends and crew. Not that she could do anything about it.

Released from the tentacles for now, the naked **** resumed her seductive dance; there was nothing else she could do. She was ever under the leering gaze and often groping touch of her future buyer. Others would occasionally come to bid on her, but Tok was quick to respond with a higher amount. Jane did her best to hide her revolution for her soon to be master. As excited as she was previously to remove her lingerie, she longed to have it back, just for some layer between them. Her collar and shackles offered no safety.

A dissonant ring brought everyone's attention to the main stage. Master Monger was there. He thanked all the guests for coming and hoped they'd continue to trade with him as his **** empire came to fruition. To further cement his position, he moved his microphone over to the displayed Councilwoman and asked her to make a speech. "You want me to beg, is that it?" she spat, her stern tone sent a jolt up Jane's spine. The elegant and dignified woman glared directly at her.