Smoke. Gorm was swimming in it. Stale, dark,filled uncounted shouting voices, and the clammy stench of greed, lust and mansex. Heady, disgusting and exhilerating, this was his arena. His heart raced in his throat, and his palms were slick with excitement.
Through the tangle of shouts in every conceivable language, he heard his name, and with heroic effort he pushed his way through the crowd toward the grating yet familar bleat.
The old Rhygillian's little wings could barely support the bloated weight of his little blue body, as he hovered above the teeming throng motioning frantically.
Koziol had owned this auction house longer than anyone could remember, and Gorm was his best supplier
"Gorm!! Gorm, my old friend!!! You've outdone yourself this time" He paused to dip his probiscus into a vial filled with something vicsous and golden.
"You always bring us the most choice specimens, but this lot," he chuckled.
"We could retire on this if we didn't love our jobs so much" He now jabbed his probiscus into the nipple of this attending slave. The young Centari warrior had been a present from Gorm last year. The youth screamed, but the mind controller prevented any further resistance.
Gorm had to admit, the auction was going incredibly well. Even the injured Spermo, damaged by last nights rigorous adventure, brought an extremely high price.He watched two dozen tiny Altairian scientists, like ants at a picnic, carry the barbarian away, a galactic Gulliver, chittering in their mechanical tongue toward a lifetime of experiments, notorious throughout the star system.
Kozoil followed his gaze, his hoarse laugh accompanied the unforunate primitive's exit."He's going to learn a whole new meaning for the word 'cathater'.. ahahahhahaha.....oh" Gorm winced at the thought of what the diminutive sadists would do to the helpless colossus, but his pitiless dick, jumped in a different response.
His attention was pulled away from the bizarre procession by the abrupt end to Koziol's laugh. He turned to see his friend's expression had changed and frozen into an ashen mask.
The idea that Kozoil could speak in anything less than a shout, seemed ridiculous. Gorm was surprised to hear the cantankerous Rhygillian whisper: ".. kor, what's HE doing here?.."
The slaver took a discreet glance across the room, to discover a large creature shrouded in a black cape and hood. It was impossible to distinguish any feature, or even a clear sillouette, but the mere malevolent presence of this. ."thing" sucked light from all that surrounded it, and frosted every corpuscle within eyeshot. Gorm thought he could make out whisker thin tentacles peaking from underneath the midnight fabric, waving for signals in the air, possibly multiple limbs or a tail. Everything seemed clouded and vague
"Who.. what... is that?"
He waited for Kozoil to draw up the courage to speak a name:
"Pasozyt!"
"I thought I'd run across every species in the galaxy. I can't say I've ever seen a creature like that"
"Hmmm.... you best pray you never will again. He normally doesn't appear in public. He sends.. er.. "emissarios" instead. He must sense something very special to appear in person."
The inscrutable being offered a bid on an exquisite quark-baller that Gorm had picked up on one of the moons of Ixtar 5. A spindly brownish digit emerged from the cloak to indicate his wishes. The gavel fell, and the flawless athlete was packaged for the pleasure of his sinsiter new owner Kozoil shuddered, another first.
"Poor bastard, better he should never have been born." The slaver guffawed.
"That's pretty hypocritical from a master sadist like you. What does he do? How bad could it possibly be?"
"Let me put it this way, he literally dines on most of his own young because he knows the universe can't support more than one or two of his kind at a time. Oh, but he does love to reproduce, that one. No way I'm tellin' further. I don't want that image in my noggin, and neither do you. Don't ask me"
Kozoil forced his normal greasy smile back into place and changed the subject.
"So tell me my friend, what is this great surprise you've been so secretive about?. It's not like you to keep things from your old buddy Kozoil" Gorm smiled behind tightly closed lips.
"And rob myself of the pleasure of seeing your face when you see? Patience Kozi, any minute now. Just brace yourself"
They didn't have long to wait, at that moment, the auctioneer was calling for quiet. He had a very important announcement. A seemingly impossible request, but the crowd, under the influence of prescient anticipation began to simmer to a quiet roar.
The pale grey face of the Plutonian hawker blushed a pale rose as he read his announcement:
"Esteemed collectors, we have a rare treat, indeed, for you tonight. Here under the gavel of the House of Kozoil, brought exclusively to you by the legendary skills the master hunter; Gorm, here for your viewing pleasure, and open for the bid of one very fortunate buyer. The dangerous, The heroic, the fabled, elusvie beauty. CAPTAIN MAL RAWLINS!!!!!"
Perhaps for the first time in it's seedy history, the hall feel into complete silence. Even the omnipresent smoke seemed to stop in awe as the curtain fell away, to display Rawlins exposed to a thousand lustful eyes, with only his low hanging empty holster, boots , and mind controller to cover his naked vulnerable glory.
He stood tall and proud, on a slowly rotating platform. His ample chest forced out and high, by the hands bound painfully into the small of his back,as to allow an unobstructed view of the delectable curve of his pert, tight buttocks, and long, fat cock.
The seemingly eternal silence was shattered as the room erupted into a deafening bedlam of shouting, a shattering glass. More than one fight broke out in the rush to present a bid.
Gorm found himself suffocating in Kozoil's over grateful embrace.
"Did I tell you how much I love you my friend???!!! HOW????!!! HOW THE HELL DID YOU PULL THIS OFF??!! The strongest, most elusive stud in the Galaxy, and YOU nabbed em!!!! YOU are the finest stud hunter in all of history, and we WE are STINKING, FILTHY RICH!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!"
Provided we get out of here alive thought Gorm as he watched the gavel scrambling to return some form of order in the midst of anarchy. The the bidding began in earnest. A mountain of promised currency grew to unheard of heights.
He peered through the room and deep into Rawlins' eyes. It almost seemed as if he caught a glimpse of, what, awareness? Recognition. It felt, to Gorm, as though they stood alone in the vast chamber, and all the screaming, pushing throng were merely imagined.
It must be the fatigue. There had been no sleep the previous, unforgettable night. Even after he had lost count of the times he had emptied himself into Spermo's ruined chute, and his thorough oral exploration of the space cowboy's longed for hole, he remained unsatisfied. No matter how deeply he forced his tongue into Rawlin's bowels, digging his fingers into the unyielding granite of his perfect ass, he still needed more of him. As if he could crawl inside every inch of that flawless skin and still never have enough of this magnificent animal.He was mesmerized by the fact that this perfect beast capable of besting him in every way, this man's man, this slow talking charmer who would have killed him outright for a single lingering glance,was so completely at his mercy. His low hanging succulent balls, every abdomnibal ripple, every hair which ringed his helpless quivering hole, was for this one precious night, open and laid out for the slaver's tender pleasure. As they approached the auction planet, he could only stand and stare at the ravishing hero asleep in his bounds, his soft dark hair falling heavily into his eyebrows, every sinew and rippling curve rising and falling in the motion of tortured sleep.. He had Rawlins utterly in his power, yet somehow he felt this captive beauty owned him body and soul.
There were only two bidders now left standing.
Habit forced Gorm to hunch down behind Kozoil the moment he recognized that podgy pink hoof shoot in the air in indicate a bid. he had spent his entire professional life avoiding Knurek and his goons. The soft billowing folds of wrinkled pink skin, dappled with thick bristles and stuffed into overpriced robes, belied an unfathomable pit of bloodthirsty avarice, and cruelty. Everyone in the galaxy owed Knurek money, and everyone dreaded the day he , and his posse would come to collect.
A river of saliva glistened on his tusks and soaked through the Andromedean cigar which seemed his constant companion.
Snorting henchman swept away inconsequential bidders, and muscled their leader forward for a closer view his new prey. A constellation of rings, and medallions telegraphed sparkling intimidation, as a warning to anyone who might find the mountains of over dressed gelatinous fat even slightly amusing.
Knurek wanted Rawlins and what Knurek wanted Knurek had But this was an evening for firsts.
The necromantic digit, again emerged from beneath it's funereal swaddling, and Gorm's heart took up residence in his throat.
The rotund hoodlum's eyes narrowed into paper paper half moons, and his cloven fist again demanded satisfaction. The bidding accelerated the stakes into the stratosphere, and Gorm incredulously found himself rooting for the pig.
The hazy light glinted off of Rawlins, still and shining muscles, as fortunes flew across the room, competing for the right to touch his marbled flesh. Gorm wondered if he comprehended exactly what was at stake.
The crevices of Knurek's hanging flab dripped sweat like bacon grease. The malignant presence showed no emotion. under it's hood. Suddenly a leg, or perhaps a tail, darted from underneath the creatures robes and across Knurek's hoofs, knocking him off balance just long enough to miss a bid, and it was over. The gavel fell one last time with a ringing finality, and the rugged, helpless hero fell to his fate. The beautiful rogue, Gorm's greatest conquest was the exclusive property of a deadly, multiple limbed abomination, who even now, was floating across the floor like a toxic cloud
Slavers encased the forsaken hero into a transport tube. His broad shoulders, broad pecs, and firm ass pressed against his transparent prison, as he was carted out in the wake of his mysterious new master to a squealing chorus of outraged curses from Knurek.
Kozoil clamped a talon across his shoulder. 'WE'RE RICH!!! STINKING, FILTHY, OBSCENELY RIIIIICCCCHHHH!!!!"
Gorm could not respond. He placed his hand on the identification screen and watched as the absurd amount of currency was transferred to his personal account. He was rich beyond is wettest dreams, and all he could feel was need.
"Come on my friend,let's open a bottle of Phyrigiilian wine and celebrate!!!"
Gorm silently turned toward the door.
"Where are you going??? Gorm, look at me ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND??? I know it's a real waste of a truly choice piece of meat, but that monster paid well for that stud, and has all rights to do with that fine ass, exactly as he pleases. You know better'n to get attached to the merchandise. You can afford a different stud for every night of your life now! Gorm.. Gorm look at me, you have no idea what you're up against.. Gorm.. GORM!!!
IT'S JUST A SLAVE!!!!"
But he was already gone.
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