The eighteen-year-old virgin Tala is shaven everywhere below the neck by two whores, skilled in such work. Over her head they lower a tiny kirtle, white and see-through, barely reaching below the point where her legs meet her torso. They do up Tala's rich brunette hair in an elaborate coiffure on top of her head, contrived to look slightly austere yet utterly feminine.
The madame evaluates her new girl, nodding with approval. "Beautiful, dearie. You'll make a fortune tonight."
In the full-length mirror, Tala looks at her body which will soon be on sale. Pallid almost to albinism, green-eyed and very slender, all traits bequeathed by her elven ancestry. But instead of feeling pride at her beauty, Tala cringes internally at her own reflection. Not only because she's been dolled up for display to men, but because the look is designed to show off the shape of her ears.
Since early childhood Tala has worn her hair covering the sides of her head. But the fully human children would gang up on her, expose those ears, pulling and tweaking them with taunts of
elf's bastard
. They're her shame to be hidden, but the brothel wants them on show as a selling point.
Tala still can't believe she's about to do this. But her mother had to borrow so much money to raise a daughter alone. For the millionth time she curses the elven father she never met, and her human mother's weakness in giving way to his wiles.
The two whores who shaved Tala put a scarlet cloak over her front. The armless garment, reaching almost to her ankles, has two straps near the top which the tie behind her neck. Then they lead her onto the stage.
They have orders to drag her out there if she's overcome with fear at the last minute. The customers always love that. But it was Tala's decision to do this, and she'll do it without coercion. She wills one foot forward, then the other, and the crowd of men howls and jeers. Gods, how can she do this? But the loansharks are very demanding. There's no other way.
"Look at this fresh young elf-maid!" the auctioneer exaggerates, as she's only half elven. "So elegant, so pure! As virginal as the first snow!"
She knows exactly what virginal means. Though she's never seen a phallus, what the customer will do to her tonight has been explained in much more detail then she cared to hear. How can any woman ever submit her body to be pierced like that? Yet here she is, driven by poverty to this extreme, selling the most valuable thing she possesses.
"Tala, show us some more!"
She takes a deep breath and puts her hands up behind the back of her neck. Trembling fingers find the bow that holds her cloak. She fumbles at it, and the crowd gets noisier: "Come on, bitch! Elven slut! Get it off! I'm gunna break you in! Show us the meat!"
Though the crudity of their taunts disgusts her, she perseveres. The scarlet silk falls, rustling down her legs and pooling about her feet. Now her pale and petite body is covered only by material so thin it does little to hinder sight. The customers yell with lust.
"It's years since you saw a beauty like this! And no man's ever touched her! Tonight one of you lucky gentleman will be the first! You'll get a whole night with her, doing anything -- you -- like! So who'll open the bidding at a hundred gold?"
The price men are willing to pay, of which Tala will keep half, goes up and up. Please, all you gods, she prays silently, let it be enough to clear my family's debts so we can have a new beginning.
Among the bidders she notices a minotaur and a troll, and fear strikes her. Surely creatures so tall and broad will be larger in every part, increasing her suffering. Again she pleads to gods that have never heretofore answered her prayers. Don't let it be one of them!
It's a fiercely contested auction, and the bidding passes twice her mother's debts. Her half will be enough, with money to spare!
Eventually a victor is declared. "Sold to the shimaeru in the fourth row."
What's a shimaeru? Tala tries to make out the identity of her buyer, but is hurried away to the room where the awful sacrifice will take place. In that chamber, decorated in an attempt to look expensive and tasteful, are an enormous bed and a table with a soft leather covering.
She hears the door handle and turns, unthinkingly pressing both hands over her maidenhood. What kind of man will it be? An arm appears first, blue and purple stripes in a sort of tiger pattern. The head is that of a cat, golden eyes, upright ears facing forward. During her life in a small town almost entirely populated by humans, she's never seen the like. Is this a shimaeru?
The strange being enters the room and Tala wearing a finely tailored tunic in the style favored by wealthy males. But its torso unmistakably has feminine contours, swelling at the chest, waist narrow, a little furry cleavage showing.
Sudden hope blossoms in Tala's heart. Surely a woman doesn't have one of those things she's been told will savage her insides. Could it be that tonight Tala will make the money her mother so desperately needs, and leave with her precious maidenhood intact?
This unschooled child of poverty, knowing so little of the world, is unaware of the nature of the shimaeru: their notorious cruelty, delighting in making their conquests grovel, and their hermaphrodite reproductive system.
The cat-woman closes the door behind her and steps toward Tala. The young virgin scampers over to the far corner, provoking a mildly amused smile on the inhuman face.
Akumo takes her time admiring this dainty morsel whose chastity she has paid to despoil. Owner of a fleet of trading ships, enormously wealthy, she's enjoyed endless females of almost every known species. But few have had this kind of beauty, features so perfectly symmetrical, cheekbones elevated just the right amount, almond-shaped eyes a vivid emerald. The bidding was steep, but the price was worth it. Especially with how scared the girl seems.
"I didn't pay for you to run away from me." Akumo crooks a finger. "Come over here."
Tala's jaw clenches as she steps toward this thing whose very race she was ignorant of until moments ago. She stops when she smells cat breath, her nose about a foot from the tip of her purchaser's muzzle. Looks up into the buyer's golden, vertical-slitted eyes.
Akumo reaches her tail around and tickles the side of her prize's right shin. The girl jumps in shock and pulls her foot back, looking down.
"I told you not to run away from me." Akumo moves her tail to the inside of Tala's leg a little above the ankle, caresses upward almost to the knee. Eyes shut and mouth pressed into a hard line, the maiden shudders but stays in place. "What's your name?"
"T-Tala. I.... please.... please may I know your name?"
"Impertinent wench! It's not your place to ask such a thing! If you must address me, call me master or sir."
"I -- I'm s-sorry, sir."
"If I tell them your behavior displeased me, they'll dock your pay. You might even get no money at all."
Tala's face is a mask of distress, jaw trembling, eyes hot and moist. "Please master...." She clasps her hands together in supplication, crouching low, gaze lowered to the feet of the auction-winner. "Please sir, I humbly beg you sir. I'll do anything you tell me sir, but please,
pleeeeeease