The Auction
By Limewah
Patron reward for Moxas (September 2023)
Featuring characters from Final Fantasy IX
18+

Fratley’s mind continued to race as he was tugged along. The Burmecian’s rat-feet were stumbling on cobblestones. All around him he could hear snorts and jeers and yells in a draconic language, a harsh, guttural snarl. He had been divested of all he owned - his spear, his armour, his cloak and hat - and he could feel those reptilian eyes leering at his nude, muscular body. He was caged between his legs, too, a cylinder of something soft yet constrictive that kept his maleness tightly compacted.

Only little pinpricks of light could get through the burlap sack over his head, tucked into the thick metal collar around his neck. That collar was connected to manacles with just enough give to make someone with lesser resolve try, vainly, to break the chains.
Fratley knew escape was not possible at this moment. Endurance was the best recourse he had; his fellow Burmecians would arrive soon. 
Fear was there in the back of his throat, but he was not about to allow it to overtake him. The fear was a motivator, an energiser, that would serve as a bulwark against the tortures that were surely in store.
A familiar voice growled into his ear, making him shudder. It had the same tone of sadistic triumph the dragon had earlier when he bested Fratley in single combat.
“We’re just in time for the auction, little mouse,” the dragon said. “There’s a step ahead of you.”
A scaly hand was pressed against Fratley’s shoulder, and another at his ass. It gripped and groped him, tugging the cheek in revolving circles as Fratley was forcibly made to climb.
Though the texture of the creaking wood brought a hanging gallows to mind, Fratley already knew that was not to be his fate. His captors had told him as such in his temporary prison, as their claws sheared his clothes from his body and their hands molested every inch of them. How they snarled and spoke to each other, barked out laughs as they smeared their shafts on his face, draped them on his back, rubbed them against his paws…
Even now, he could still feel the ghosts of their touch, and was disturbed by how pleasant the memory was. How, in spite of his peril, there was some strange primal part of him that was enjoying the attention.
Fratley was turned around to face the previous direction, and could hear the chorus of yelling voices all around. He didn’t need to understand their tongue to understand the intent. They were calling out, hungrily, like a pack of hungry hounds.
Another voice, this one older and shakier, brought the crowd to a hushed heel. Their voice was measured and slow, allowing each phrase to radiate out through the gathered crowd before continuing.

The dragon who defeated Fratley growled into his ear, his sharp, spade-like snout almost slipping inside.
“Let me translate for you, little mouse… he’s just explaining the rules of the auction, for those who’ve never been before. This is where we decide who gets the meat. Who gets to fuck our spoils of war.”

Fratley bristled at his touch, at the claws tracing along the divots of his abdomen.
“You are the property of the Serpion empire, now. This is just a rental. Anyone who bids the highest gets to have you for the day. As their personal cocksleeve, their fucktoy. And when that scant time is up, you’ll be brought back to me.”
There was clamouring from the crowd, and the elder Serpion called for silence.
“While I’d love to be the first to claim you,” his attacker said, “We do have rules about this sort of thing. You must be shared. But that just means you’ll be nice and warmed up for me when I get you back. Loosened holes, loosened will… and a better appreciation for your new purpose. But… hnnh. I want your hole to myself so badly.”

Fratley growled, refusing to dignify the dragon with a response. He kept the fear on a tight lead. Even as he felt his shaft straining against its prison, desperate to escape. And… the pleasure that came with it. 
“Still not convinced, hmm…” the dragon moved his snout to Fratley’s other ear. “Tell you what. I’m sure, since you’re refusing to talk, that you’re willing to keep a secret.”
One possessive claw grabbed Fratley’s shoulder, and the other slid down to his caged shaft. Clear pre-cum had been oozing from it for some time - another physiological rebellion - and the dragon collected it, smearing it all over his finger. Then it travelled behind to his rump.
He pressed himself against the claw, in spite of himself, his body seeking pleasure in spite of his mind.
“So… I’m going to be the first one to explore it. You won’t tell anyone. And you won’t stop me.”
His scaled finger prodded against Fratley’s tailhole, wet and slickened.
“They’re about to start the bidding, little mouse… the higher the bids get, the deeper my finger will go. And the deeper it goes, the more you’ll realise just how well-suited you are for this new role of yours.”
The touch was electrifying - the same touch, the pleasure-inducing, venomous touch, had been the cause of Fratley’s defeat. A disarming palm against his face had made him lose grip on his spear, and allowed him to be pinned by his attacker. He had thought, in that moment, that death was to come straight after.
He thought, up until this moment, that this fate might be worse than death.
But as the finger slipped in and prodded, that pleasurable venom spread into his blood, and his growl turned into a surprisingly desperate whimper.
Before he could feel much discomfort, the claw had touched against something in his gut that made his whole body quiver.
A long, dextrous dragon tail hooked around Fratley’s thigh and slowly swirled downwards, the smooth scales scraping along Fratley’s most sensitive parts.
“So we’ve started at… 5 gold. A low start, but that’ll climb.” The claw remained still.
“Oh, and there’s 20 gold! There we go, that’s more like it.” The finger pushed in a little further, and Fratley inhaled sharply, clenching against it - unconsciously forcing the finger to continue to tickle that sensitive spot he’d found.
“You mammals have such interesting anatomy, you know that? That’s 50 gold… oh, 100!” 
The dragon’s finger pushed deeper, another joint slipping inside Fratley. The Burmecian bit down hard to stop himself from moaning.
“Shh… good boy, yes, don’t give the game away, we don’t want anyone knowing I’m having the first taste of your warm, tight insides…”
Fratley tried to hold onto something - anything to keep him from focusing on the disturbing pleasure as the dragon continued his deep massage. His comrades, his home… his Freya…
He had to be strong for her. He couldn’t allow himself to admit to her that being debased like this was…
“Five-Hundred!” The dragon speared his finger deeper inside, curling it towards the weak-point. “That little button I’ve found? It’s your prostate… and nothing makes a mammal like you squeal like having that bit rubbed… Six-Hundred.”
“Nnghngm…” Fratley was quivering, saliva seeping from his clenched lips, his blindfolded eyes rolling up into his head. The white-hot pleasure was making his shaft strain against its prison, throbbing and pulsing and bulging. His pre-cum couldn’t escape it either, and his shaft was bathed in slick warmth that only made his arousal even more painfully irresistible.
“Going… going… oh, no, a thousand!” The dragon growled into Fratley’s ear. The rat could only faintly hear the shouts and yells of the crowd, baying for his flesh… it was hard to notice it, not when each slick push and prod of that dragon’s finger made his mind swim and his extremities curl…
“Going… going…”
“NNfreeyya…” Fratley moaned.
“Gone.” 

The cheers and applause of the crowd masked Fratley’s cries of ecstasy as his orgasm hit - scarcely an orgasm, though. His constrained shaft could only throb and dribble, unable to even produce any seed. Before the orgasm could properly reach his brain, the venom got there first.
The pleasure centres were shut down first, denying him the small pleasure the climax would have brought. Then the next was his memories. The woman who had just been on his lips was erased from his hind-brain, and with it, all the other bonds and ideals he held so dear. So, too, went his personality. His mind was scrubbed of everything that could have gotten in the way of his new purpose.

“Well, little mouse… nice knowing you. You made for a very good opponent… but you’ll make for an excellent slut.”
Fratley moaned and slumped back against the muscular dragon, only to be pushed forward.
“Ah ah ah. Don’t let our little secret get out… you’ve got to have your ‘first time’ with that nice merchant.”

Fratley swayed in a daze, barely understanding the words. When another heavy paw grasped him by the throat and pulled him against a large, firm belly, he stumbled along with it. The venom swum through him. His shaft continued to throb. His hole remained loose and pliant as the merchant’s claw took the place of the warriors.
It would be rare that Fratley’s hole was not filled. He would be put to very good use. And he would always be compliant.

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