Sold To The Beastmen Princes

The cold seeped into her bones before she even opened her eyes. Kelsey woke up flat on her back, the hard surface beneath her chilling her bare skin.

She blinked against harsh, clinical lighting. She was in a room that looked like a high-tech prep area, surrounded by hanging racks of bizarre, metallic garments and restraints.

"Awake? Good. Prepare yourself. You are the last lot on the order sheet."

The voice was crisp, female, and completely devoid of empathy. Kelsey whipped her head to the side. A woman in a sleek, immaculate uniform stood over her, tapping the edge of a translucent datapad with an impatient rhythm.

Kelsey's brain stalled. She understood the words perfectly. The device they used on her head—it had done something to her mind. But the comprehension brought no comfort, only a fresh wave of horror.

"Order sheet? What are you going to do to me?" Kelsey gasped, trying to sit up.

Her muscles strained, but her limbs wouldn't move. Invisible bands of energy pinned her wrists and ankles to the metal table.

The woman, Eleanor Price, offered a thin, mocking smile. "A primitive from Terra-3. You should consider it an honor to be selected. Stop squirming. You'll ruin your presentation."

Terra-3. Primitive. The words hit Kelsey like physical blows.

Eleanor swiped a finger across her datapad. A warm, humming beam of light swept over Kelsey's body from neck to toe. In an instant, every trace of body hair was vaporized, leaving her skin unnervingly smooth and entirely exposed.

The absolute violation of it made Kelsey's stomach heave. Hot tears of humiliation leaked from the corners of her eyes.

Eleanor didn't even look at her face. She pulled a heavy, polished metal collar from a tray. "This is the symbol of ownership. It also serves as your ID."

"No!" Kelsey thrashed against the invisible bonds, biting her lower lip until she tasted copper. "I am not a thing! I am a human being!"

Eleanor sighed, tapping a button on her pad.

A jolt of electricity shot through the table. Kelsey's back arched, her muscles locking in a painful spasm before going entirely limp. She gasped for air, her vision swimming.

With a sharp click, the icy metal collar locked around her throat. It was heavy, a permanent weight pressing against her windpipe.

The table suddenly rotated, sliding her onto a circular platform. The floor beneath her began to rise.

Blinding spotlights hit her as she ascended into a massive, amphitheater-like hall. The roar of a crowd washed over her. Hundreds of eyes, hidden in the shadows of tiered seating, locked onto her naked, shivering form.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Eleanor's voice boomed through the hall, suddenly dripping with seductive charisma. "The final item of this cycle's Terra-3 acquisition! A flawless evolutionary catalyst, completely unmodified. Her order stands open to the highest pre-registered claim!"

The words meant nothing to Kelsey, but the frenzy that followed did.

"Claim lodged by the Rohl syndicate!"

"Withdrawn—the Beaumont house holds priority!"

"Priority contested!"

The claims fired off like gunshots. Every name shouted was another layer of her humanity being stripped away. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear, feeling like a piece of meat on a butcher's block.

The dispute burned hot, then guttered out as the lesser houses fell away, leaving only the wealthiest predators in the registry.

Kelsey opened her eyes, her gaze drawn to a private, elevated box shrouded in darkness. Inside sat a man. He was massive, radiating an aura so suffocatingly cold it seemed to freeze the air around him.

The hall fell into a tense silence.

From the shadows of the box, a deep, resonant voice cut through the quiet. "The order is mine."

The crowd gasped.

Eleanor's smile widened into something triumphant. "The Beaumont claim stands! Do I hear another house step forward?" Silence. She slammed her hand down on a podium. "Then the order is fulfilled! Congratulations to Mr. Damien of the Beaumont family for acquiring this unique treasure!"

Kelsey's breath shuddered. She looked up at the box. The man, Damien, leaned forward into the light. His eyes, dark and fathomless, met hers. There was no lust in them, no pity. Just the cold, calculating look of a man assessing a newly purchased asset.

The platform began to descend.

Back in the prep room, the invisible bonds vanished. Kelsey collapsed onto the cold floor, her legs unable to support her.

Heavy footsteps echoed. Damien stepped into the room, followed by four other men. They were all impossibly tall, broad-shouldered, and exuded a terrifying, predatory energy.

Damien stood over her, looking down at her trembling, naked body. He didn't offer a hand. He didn't speak to her.

He looked at Eleanor. "Get her cleaned up. Send her to my estate."