Free The Taming of Jessica by Elizabeth Coldwell

equal on their previous meeting. Here, in this fantasy fiefdom, there was no equality; Damon Barada was her superior, and expected to be acknowledged as such.
    ‘Good, then let the fun begin.’ He clapped his hands, and the curtains were parted. Jessica found herself looking out on to a large room with half a dozen tables towards the back, all bearing the remnants of a recently finished meal, with half-empty wine bottles and coffee cups in evidence. Beyond those tables stood a fully stocked bar, overseen by a barman with dark, slicked-back hair, wearing a harlequin-patterned waistcoat and black bow tie. But these were minor details her eyes chose to focus on, so as not to look at the expectant group of figures who waited close to the stage. Max she recognised, along with the men who’d been their travelling companions from Antigua. The others were strangers to her. But they were all clearly here for one purpose – to bid on the lots in this outlandish auction.
    ‘Gentlemen.’ Damon addressed his audience in avuncular tones. ‘I do hope you enjoyed your meal, and that you’re ready for this evening’s entertainment. Tonight, I am pleased to offer four slaves, each of whom is in need of training. Those of you who’ve been here before may well recognise the first lot – a serial offender whose misdeeds are too numerous to mention …’
    As he went into his spiel, Mistress Delice began to guide Honey to the front of the stage. As she was manoeuvred away from the rest of the group, Honey turned and gave Jessica a quick wink, as if to let her know everything would be all right. Her action earned her a sharp slap to the face from the dominatrix, Honey’s shuddering response carrying more pleasure than pain.
    ‘See how difficult the bitch is to control,’ Damon said. ‘Who out there thinks he’s master enough to bring this one to heel?’
    Hands were raised, and three or four voices rang out – Jessica found it hard to distinguish between them, though she was certain Max wasn’t among those bidding to own her friend. Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to shut out the thought that she might be the next up on the block.
    ‘Who wants to get a better look at the slut’s tits, and her luscious, round arse?’ Damon asked. With a flourish, he pulled the robe from Honey’s shoulders, baring her entirely, and drawing whoops and cheers from the watching men as he slipped a hand down between Honey’s legs, then pulled it away to reveal how his fingers glistened with the woman’s juices. ‘See how wet she is. She loves this treatment!’ he crowed.
    To Jessica’s mind, there could hardly be anything more shameful than being treated like goods for sale in front of a baying crowd, but Damon was right. When he ordered Honey to turn round so her back was to the audience and bend from the waist, which she did, rather awkwardly given her shackled state, the men’s reaction showed they were looking at a willingly displayed and very wet pussy. If Jessica was forced to do the same, how would she react? Her cheeks flamed as she realised that, mortifying as the exposure would be, those men – Max included – would be able to see the indecently dewy state of her own plumped-up and gently pulsing sex.
    Damon banged his hand down on the wooden lectern he stood by. ‘Sold, to Rafael Dos Santos for 200 dollars! Come up and claim your slave, Rafael.’
    A huge bear of a man with wildly curly hair and a goatee beard lumbered up to the stage, and handed over a number of banknotes of a design Jessica didn’t recognise. Honey’s leg cuffs were unfastened, but those securing her wrists to her collar remained in place as her new owner led her away.
    Jessica’s fears that she might be the next on the block evaporated as Damon called for Simone, and the redhead was led forward. Much as with Honey, the bidding for this slave was swift and intense, her price rising as Damon outlined just how hard Simone needed to be whipped