"Come now, Mordred!" calls out a bull. "What are you hiding under that cloth? Show us the goods if you expect us to bid!"
The fox shakes his head with a grin. "You all know it won't matter long, but if you insist." He gestures to the bear, who comes up behind you. His hands quickly engulf your arms, thick fingers wrapping completely around them as if they were twigs. You don't resist as he pulls them away, afraid he might crush them if you struggle at all. This gives the lion access to your loincloth, which he pulls back, showing off your average package to the crowd, making you grit your teeth in helpless humiliation.
"There you go, folks! Nothing special --" you can't help but wince, your face flushing at the candid slight "-- but nothing untoward either! Now do I hear 100?"
"25 gold!" The bull who caused your shame immediately bellows. You eye him; he's relatively short, but his finely tailored suit strains over a massive frame, which paired with his wicked horns really frightens you. However your eyes are quickly drawn across the lot to the next bidder, and the next, as your price rapidly climbs. Each of these "evolved animals" seems physically imposing, and while there's a bit of an old-fashioned or medieval flavour to their outfits, they also show off quite a bit of fur. And they tend to emphasise the crotches of the males and the busts of the females.
"500!" Your gaze rests on the new bidder, a relatively tall, sleek figure. Much of her is concealed by a black cloak, edged in a broad gold border with cabalistic signs picked out in red and black against the gold. You can see a slender black-furred hand emerging from a wide sleeve as she holds it up; a long, narrow muzzle, red and white with black markings, poking from the shadow of her hood; and the pillowy expanse of short, soft white fur on the large globes hugged by her low-cut, dark red robe. The robe is cinched with a black sash, emphasising her hourglass figure further.
But more than her figure, what really catches your attention are her amber eyes, literally glowing within the shadow of her hood. Meeting your gaze, a smile forms on her thin lips, showing gleaming white fangs, and you find you can't look away. At least until you hear another female voice.
"560!" A newly arrived rat female with a scar over her right eye and clad in steel plate joins the bidding. Once it gets up to seven hundred, everyone else drops out, leaving the two femmes to compete for you. You shift, bemused, and wonder how serving a woman might be different to a man.
"770!" "780!" "790!" "800!"
"1000!"
The vixen's jump in bid causes a bit of a murmur. Several of the bidders, frustrated, turn and leave, giving up on getting any new meat for the day. Others look pensive, but offer no counterbid.
Mordred, the fox on the platform, looks around questioningly. "I have 1000 gold! Do I hear 1050?" Still silence. "1010?" The rat lady shakes her head, smiles, and nods to the vixen in concession. Mordred lifts his gavel. "For 1000 gold then! Going once!" Rap. The sound of the gavel striking makes your heart skip. "Twice!"
"1100!"
You sigh in relief as a stately-looking stag in a regal robe enters the bidding. But then you chide yourself. This isn't a reprieve, and honestly you're getting tired of the bear's vice-like grip -- he hasn't let you go -- and of being gawked at. With no hope of being rescued, you may as well be bought and get it over with. And is this haughty deer any better than the cowled vixen?
Meanwhile the bidding has continued, stag and vixen going back and forth furiously. A bellow of "2000!" brings you out of your reverie.
The vixen's ears dip in annoyance. "2050! This one is mine, you bloody deer!"
"Mind your tongue, madame!" the stag responds, offended. The two continue to go at it, but finally, when the exasperated vixen raises the bid to 2500, the stag snorts and stomps off, a small contingent of guards parting the crowd for him.
"Do I hear 2550?" The todd asks, grinning a bit at how the contest of wills inflated your price. "No? For 2500 then!"
Rap. Again your heart jumps into your throat.
"Going once!"
Rap. You try to swallow and can't, your mouth too dry.
"Going twice!"
BANG. You jump in the bear's grip, and you feel his chuckle rumble into you.
"SOLD to the beautiful wizardess with the deep purse! Come up and claim your prize, madame!"
The auctioneer bows as his congener ascends the platform. The bear releases you and the vixen snaps her clawed fingers, conjuring a pair of heavy bags which she gives to the lion in exchange for your leash. You choke a cry, eyes widening and skin crawling. Magic? For real!?
Then she comes closer, making you realise that while she seemed average in the crowd of massive beast men, she actually has several inches on you. She gives you another fanged smile, and sets a hand to your loincloth. Although you flinch at the touch, you steel yourself against recoiling, not wanting to be punished -- or to show weakness.
"Let's have this off." With a tug the thing comes undone. She tosses it aside, leaving you fully naked except for the collar. Her eyes twinkle at your expression. "Slaves should not be hidden, but displayed."
She turns, taking a short lead on the chain, forced you to follow so close that the white tip of her brush tickles you, swishing from beneath the hem of her cloak.
"I hope you find him worth the cost, Junia," murmurs the auctioneer as you walk past him off the stage. "You've lined my den nicely, but Lord Selquist is not one to cross."
"Selquist is all rack and no brain," the vixen replies lightly. "I'll miss the gold more than a worthless noble's favour. But I can't pass up breaking a willful one, and I'm nearly finished with the last." She pulls on the chain. "Come, slave."
She makes her way out through the crowd. At the door of the building, the rat lady hails your new owner.
"Stubborn as ever, June. Do you intend to share once you've broken him -- or her -- in?"
"Ask me sweetly, Captain, and maybe I will; but only for you, and not your breeding program. My tender girls are not for your soldier studs."
Your eyes widen. What is she saying!? You shiver as you passed the rat woman's appraising eyes. If she had bought me, would I have been...? Your mind whirls. Then you stumble as the vixen pulls you out through the door.