Fragile ties were all that fastened the front of the garment. Naeth swallowed when he realized they’d been designed thusly in order to make it easy to tear the shirt open. As for the trousers, one yank on the drawstring and they would slide right off his hips.
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the feelings of horror and revulsion that rose within him. There was no helping it. He had to set aside his modesty and learn to spread
himself for whoever made the highest bid for the privilege of taking his virginity.
At least he would only have to service one patron this night, he tried to comfort himself. Indeed, Davon had assured him he would only take one client a day his first week. But thereafter, he would average three Deira nightly.
Naeth sucked in his breath. Three a night! Veres almighty, could he do that? He started to shake violently.
I can’t , he wildly thought. I have to get out of here!
The door opened, and a grinning Davon looked in.
“You’re pale,” he observed. “And trembling, too. That will drive your price up, lad.
It’s plain as day you’ve never had a shaft up your arse before.”
He grabbed Naeth by the hand and pulled him out of the room. He led Naeth down a short and stuffy passageway.
“Now remember, only buggering is allowed,” Davon briskly instructed. “If your patron wants to have you all the way, he’ll have to negotiate a new price with me first.
And of course, you’ll need to take mirash . Last thing you want is a bastard on your hands. Though there are some clients who enjoy tupping expectant Deira. They say it’s softer and hotter inside them. And they’re more wanton, too. Expectant Deira, I mean.
But that’s neither here nor there.”
They entered a curtained recess lit by a small oil lamp. There was a low platform in the center. Naeth could hear the murmur of voices beyond the curtain. He gulped as the feeling of doom grew stronger.
“Just stand here,” Davon said, directing Naeth onto the platform. “Don’t try to cover yourself in any way. The clients like to see what they’re bidding for.”
Naeth recoiled when Davon adjusted his trousers so that the crotch clung to his groin, hinting at what was beneath the soft material. Davon looked at his handiwork, smiling even more widely when Naeth cowered in acute shame.
“They’ll go wild when they see how untouched you are,” he gleefully informed Naeth. “Fifty sovereigns won’t be too high to start with.” He pinched Naeth’s cheeks to bring some color into them then patted his buttocks. “ Heyas , it’s going to be a very lucrative night!”
He slipped out through the curtain. At once the voices outside hushed.
Naeth heard Davon make the pertinent introductions. He cringed when the Deir made much of his innocence and lovingly described his attributes. It did not help his fraying nerves when Davon described his arse as “pristine as untrodden snow, wonderfully firm and so tight it’s guaranteed to reduce the lucky Deir who gets to break it in to unspeakable ecstasy”.
When Davon crudely announced that “of course, fucking the lad’s sheath is pricier”, Naeth decided he could not go through with it. But before he could flee, the curtain parted. He stared at an audience of Deira seated three-deep in a semi-circle before the makeshift stage.
Almost as soon as Naeth appeared the audience began to shout their bids, not bothering to wait for Davon to start the proceedings.
“Sixty sovereigns!”
“Nay, sixty-five!”
“Eighty!”
Naeth was rooted to the spot, unable to speak or move or even so much as blink his
eyes. Even when several Deira demanded that more of his body be exposed, he did not react in his shock. But when Davon came up to him and loosened the front of his shirt further so that it parted to expose his nipples, he jerked back, shaking his head pleadingly.
That seemed to further excite the crowd for the bids escalated in amount. Naeth realized with deepening horror
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the feelings of horror and revulsion that rose within him. There was no helping it. He had to set aside his modesty and learn to spread
himself for whoever made the highest bid for the privilege of taking his virginity.
At least he would only have to service one patron this night, he tried to comfort himself. Indeed, Davon had assured him he would only take one client a day his first week. But thereafter, he would average three Deira nightly.
Naeth sucked in his breath. Three a night! Veres almighty, could he do that? He started to shake violently.
I can’t , he wildly thought. I have to get out of here!
The door opened, and a grinning Davon looked in.
“You’re pale,” he observed. “And trembling, too. That will drive your price up, lad.
It’s plain as day you’ve never had a shaft up your arse before.”
He grabbed Naeth by the hand and pulled him out of the room. He led Naeth down a short and stuffy passageway.
“Now remember, only buggering is allowed,” Davon briskly instructed. “If your patron wants to have you all the way, he’ll have to negotiate a new price with me first.
And of course, you’ll need to take mirash . Last thing you want is a bastard on your hands. Though there are some clients who enjoy tupping expectant Deira. They say it’s softer and hotter inside them. And they’re more wanton, too. Expectant Deira, I mean.
But that’s neither here nor there.”
They entered a curtained recess lit by a small oil lamp. There was a low platform in the center. Naeth could hear the murmur of voices beyond the curtain. He gulped as the feeling of doom grew stronger.
“Just stand here,” Davon said, directing Naeth onto the platform. “Don’t try to cover yourself in any way. The clients like to see what they’re bidding for.”
Naeth recoiled when Davon adjusted his trousers so that the crotch clung to his groin, hinting at what was beneath the soft material. Davon looked at his handiwork, smiling even more widely when Naeth cowered in acute shame.
“They’ll go wild when they see how untouched you are,” he gleefully informed Naeth. “Fifty sovereigns won’t be too high to start with.” He pinched Naeth’s cheeks to bring some color into them then patted his buttocks. “ Heyas , it’s going to be a very lucrative night!”
He slipped out through the curtain. At once the voices outside hushed.
Naeth heard Davon make the pertinent introductions. He cringed when the Deir made much of his innocence and lovingly described his attributes. It did not help his fraying nerves when Davon described his arse as “pristine as untrodden snow, wonderfully firm and so tight it’s guaranteed to reduce the lucky Deir who gets to break it in to unspeakable ecstasy”.
When Davon crudely announced that “of course, fucking the lad’s sheath is pricier”, Naeth decided he could not go through with it. But before he could flee, the curtain parted. He stared at an audience of Deira seated three-deep in a semi-circle before the makeshift stage.
Almost as soon as Naeth appeared the audience began to shout their bids, not bothering to wait for Davon to start the proceedings.
“Sixty sovereigns!”
“Nay, sixty-five!”
“Eighty!”
Naeth was rooted to the spot, unable to speak or move or even so much as blink his
eyes. Even when several Deira demanded that more of his body be exposed, he did not react in his shock. But when Davon came up to him and loosened the front of his shirt further so that it parted to expose his nipples, he jerked back, shaking his head pleadingly.
That seemed to further excite the crowd for the bids escalated in amount. Naeth realized with deepening horror
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