Whimsy (2 page)

 
One man
did try to feel her breasts, and Whimsy growled at him and given him such a
glare the timid little thing had almost run away. She heard the
Gogath
behind her laugh.
 
She’d turned to glare at him and found the same man who had sorted her
before.

 
“Keep
this up and I will buy you for myself.” His eyes caressed her curves with
heated interest.

 
Whimsy’s
eyes widened. He spoke her language far better than he’d let on earlier. She
discounted his statement of wanting to purchase her. She didn’t think the
Gogath
race mated outside their kind. She hurriedly whipped
back around anyway. “Keep what up?” she hissed.

 
“You are
scaring off potential buyers with your glare and your posture.”
 

 
“My posture?”

 
“It is
very
royal
.”

 
“And if I
am royalty?”

 
“It does
not matter here.” She could hear the shrug in his voice. He took a lock of her
hair in his hands. She froze. “If you are not purchased, I will buy you for my
own.
 
I do not mind a royal bedmate.”

 
 
Whimsy gritted her teeth and lowered her eyes.
It seemed that no matter what, she would be purchased this day. For the first
time, tears of frustration and fear ran down her cheeks. What would become of
her? Would her family ever find her? Or would they forever wonder what had
become of her?

 
“This
one, what color are her eyes?” asked a deep male voice in her language with
only a hint of an accent. Her chin was grasped firmly and lifted to the
light. Whimsy’s eyes snapped open.
‘
This one’
, indeed.
 
Indignation dried her tears.

 
“This
one’s eyes are none of your concern,” she snapped, nearing the end of her
tether.

 
The man,
tall and good-looking with long blonde hair and chocolate-brown eyes, smiled at
her. An elderly woman at his side let out an outraged gasp at her comment. She
was almost as tall as the man, a fact heightened by the way her graying hair
was piled atop her head. She wore all black, the severity of which competed
with that of her expression. “
This one
,”
she said with venom, “needs discipline and punishment. Let us move along,
Chaldor
.”
 

 
“This
one––
“ Whimsy’s
angry flow of words was cut off by the
Gogath
. He gripped her shoulder, applying enough
pressure to be just this side of painful. She shut her mouth and settled on a
glare hot enough to sizzle.

 
Chaldor
shook his head at his companion, his eyes
flickering over Whimsy with obvious approval. “
Editha
,
she is perfect.”

 
Editha
cast a dismissive glance over her. “She is
different,” she agreed with blatant hesitance. “But she is nothing compared to
the two others.”
 

 
Chaldor
clearly disagreed.
“How much?”

 
“
Chaldor
, I suggest we move on and find better.”

 
“
Editha
, we do not have long to tarry––or have you
forgotten?” At that, the older woman’s pale skin colored.

 
“How
much?” she repeated through tight lips.

 
The
Gogath
uttered a sum that had the woman gasping again. “No.
Chaldor
, we will find another.”

 
Chaldor
stared hard at Whimsy. “No. We will take this one.
He will enjoy her most of all.”

 
Whimsy
bit her lip and trembled. “No,” she whispered. This couldn’t be happening.
 
Nothing like this ever happened to boring
little Whimsical Featherstone, second child of King Raul Featherstone of Colony
7.

Chapter Two

 
Lest she
have any idea about running, The
Gogath
didn’t remove
her cuffs as they delivered her to their waiting craft. It was a small craft
with just enough room for their five passengers. Whimsy assumed this meant they
would not have far to travel.
 

   
“We
shall never know what could have been,”
Gadgor
said,
flashing incongruous white teeth in a dirty face as he handed her over into the
care of
Chaldor
.
 

 
Chaldor
buckled her into a harness once he had her
seated.
 
“Made friends with your captors,
did you?”

 
“He’s
only teasing.
 
He is not truly
interested.”

 
He eyed
her, dubious.
 
“Do you doubt your
appeal?”

 
Whimsy
shrugged.

 
“Had I
not purchased you for my friend, I would keep you for myself.”

 
Her mouth
dropped open. He smiled in response and moved on to harness the other two women
purchased that day. The woman nearest her had exotic, slanted green eyes and a
thick mane of white-blonde hair. She was likewise cuffed.
 
Her lids, swollen from crying, did nothing to
distract from her incredible beauty.
 

 
The third
had hair the color of spun sugar, cut in short layers, and sultry blue eyes.
She fluffed her locks with her free hands. Whimsy watched in amazement as the
woman batted her lashes at
Chaldor
.

 
“Why
aren’t you cuffed?” Whimsy asked when he left them.

 
“I’m from
C15. This isn’t my first auction. Believe
me,
if you
lived on C15, you’d be happy to be auctioned by the
Gogath
.”

 
The small
craft landed in the bay of what could only be termed as a palace.
 
It was larger and grander than anything
Whimsy had seen before.
 
Her father’s
palace was humble in comparison to this soaring edifice that seemed to scrape
the clouds.
 

 
They
disembarked swiftly and were whisked through an entrance guarded by two burly
men.
Editha
,
Chaldor
, and
two guards escorted them through the palace, moving at such a clip that Whimsy
doubted she would be able to find her way back out. They might as well have
been leading her into a maze, the twists and turns were so convoluted.
 

 
Their
small party stopped outside of two large doors. “Inside,”
Editha
ordered. “Do not think of escaping. The guards and I will remain here.
Chaldor
, go to him.” At her words, he gave a terse nod and
excused himself.

 
As soon
as they were inside, each of them was surrounded by a group of servants. The
room was lined with bathing pools on one side. Each pool was separated by a
stone wall. A curtain could be used to further close off the area. The servants
expertly divested them of their clothes and led them to separate bathing
areas.
 

 
Modesty
made Whimsy prickly with the women who attempted to bathe her. “I can do it
myself.” Of course she couldn’t really, since her hands were still bound. They
ignored her and she suffered through their groping with grumbles, but became
quite vocal when one of them suddenly thrust her hand over her mound. Whimsy
shrieked and backed away, sloshing water over the sides of the bathing pool.
Her displeasure was so obvious she was surprised when the woman followed and
attempted the intimate touch again. She was still fighting the woman’s
attentions when
Editha
came marching into the room,
pulling aside the curtain that sectioned off her bathing area. The woman’s
glare found Whimsy.
 

 
“I should
have known it would be you. Cause any more trouble and you will regret
it.”
 
She left the threat open, but
didn’t really have to be specific.
Editha’s
eyes
spoke volumes. Whimsy knew she didn’t like her, one little bit. That
Chaldor
had insisted on purchasing her hadn’t helped
matters.

   
Editha
nodded to the servants. “Finish the cleansing. He
awaits
.”

 
Whimsy
glared at the servant, but this time noticed that the woman had applied a
lotion to her hand before plunging it into the water. She smoothed it over
Whimsy’s mound with expert strokes and then washed it away. With it went her
hair. Whimsy gasped in outrage, but did not say more. Nor did she protest when
the woman applied the same cream over the rest of her body, removing all of her
body hair.
 

 
They
dried her after her bath and applied sweet-smelling oil to her skin. They
brushed out Whimsy’s hair to its full length, complimenting her on its rich
color and texture. It fell in thick shiny waves, almost to her waist.

 
Each of
the women was given a gown: The woman from C15 was given a gold one.
 
The woman with the silver hair was given a
pink gown. Whimsy’s was black. Though the colors were different, they were each
made the same: just a simple gown, essentially little more than a robe. It was
sleeveless and held together by a clasp beneath her breasts. The material was
particularly sheer. In the proper lighting, they would be as good as naked, as
they’d been given no undergarments.

 
“I don’t
believe this,” Whimsy muttered as the women arranged her hair about her face.
“This is not happening.”

 
Editha
inspected each of them, pausing as she looked over
Whimsy. Whimsy saw a brief moment of surprise grace her stern features, but it
was quickly hidden. “Come,” was all she said. Lest they decide not to follow,
the guards were soon there to lead them forward.
 

 
Whimsy
bit her lip in a bid to hold hysteria at bay. Once more they were led to a set
of wooden double doors, which were large and ornately carved. She had never
seen the like. On either side of the hallway, there were benches set against
the wall.

   
Chaldor
came out to meet them.

   
“How
is he?”
Editha
asked anxiously.

   
Chaldor
shook his head grimly. “The sooner this is done,
the better.” He looked over the women, his gaze resting on Whimsy.
“Which one first?”

 
Editha
pursed her lips, noting the direction of his gaze.
She motioned to the guards to take the woman from C15. She watched as they led
her through the doors. “Hopefully, that will be the end of this.”

 
Chaldor
nodded, but did not appear convinced. “We may as
well get comfortable. It is going to be a long evening.” He waited until
Editha
was seated on one of the benches before sitting
himself.

 
The
blonde sat, as did Whimsy, reluctantly. She was very uncomfortable in the thin
gown. She felt bare and panicky. Smoothing the dress over her thighs, she
attempted to put some distance between the material and her all too bare flesh.

 
At the
first of her cries, Whimsy’s head snapped up. Her head swung in the direction
of the door. The cries escalated in volume. Then the screaming started. Whimsy
stood.
 
“H-he’s killing her,” she said.

 
Chaldor
, eyes narrowed, asked, “Just where are you from?”

 
She
ignored his question. “We must do something.” She gasped as a rather loud moan
issued from the room. She started towards the door.

 
“Do not,”
Chaldor
said. “He claims her and would not appreciate
the interruption.” At her blank expression, he continued. “The sounds you hear
are of pleasure, I assure you.”

 
Whimsy’s
eyes widened. She shook her head. It was sinking in now. They’d bought her here
to be claimed. They’d prettied her up to be raped by a stranger. He was raping
Miss C15 right now, and
Chaldor
thought she’d enjoy
it?

   
“How
could you think—
“ But
her words were interrupted by
Miss C15 yelling. “Don’t stop! Yes, yes! Fuck me! Yes! Oh! Oh! Don’t stop! Ah!
Fill my pussy!
Yessssss
!”