The night wasn't merciful.
When Lily woke, he wasn't in the warm, perfumed bed anymore.
No — cold metal kissed his skin now. Shackles pressed against his slim wrists, his ankles spread and locked, his naked body exposed under a soft, crimson spotlight.
His eyes blinked, weak, confused.
Soft, mocking laughter echoed from the shadows around him.
"He's awake."
"Good. The guests are waiting."
A tall, masked woman stepped forward, dressed in black leather, heels clicking against the stone floor. She ran her gloved fingers along his cheek, tracing the tear-stained skin as if inspecting a piece of art.
"Tonight, you're no longer a toy for one."
"You're a prize for all."
A heavy curtain slid open behind her, revealing a dim room filled with shadows — women of all shapes and ages sitting comfortably in velvet chairs, their eyes glowing with hunger and lust.
The woman leaned in, lips brushing his ear:
"This is an auction, sweetheart. And your body is the only thing on sale."
The crowd stirred, murmurs rising — dirty whispers, dark fantasies, names he'd never heard.
His cursed, weak body trembled under their stares, fully exposed, his thighs already damp, his nipples stiff and aching, his cursed slit wet without a single touch.
"Look how eager he is."
"Already leaking before anyone's even touched him."
The auction began.
Voices called out numbers, bids rising higher and higher, as if he was nothing more than meat to be bought and used.
And deep inside…
Lily felt it.
The sharp, sweet sting of shame mixing with raw, addicting pleasure.
He was theirs.
And he wanted to be.
The iron chains clinked softly as Lily was led onto the stage, his slim, cursed body completely bare, legs trembling but spread — helpless against the flood of gazes devouring him.
The woman who won the auction stepped forward.
A mature beauty with sharp eyes, lips painted a deep red, and a hunger that promised no mercy.
"Such a pretty thing... I'm going to break you."
She tugged him down by the collar, making him kneel at her feet before the whole crowd.
Her fingers tangled in his soft hair, yanking his head back, forcing his teary eyes to meet hers.
"You belong to me now."
"And I'll show them what a cursed little femboy like you is really for."
Without another word, she lifted her dress, exposing herself fully.
The room went silent, save for the soft, wet sounds of her grinding against his blushing, trembling lips. Lily's body obeyed before his mind could even react — his tongue sliding out, tasting her, licking every inch as ordered.
"Good boy."
"You learn so fast... when you're desperate enough."
The guests watched, breathless, as she used his mouth like a toy — grinding deeper, riding his face, her nails digging into his scalp as his muffled, broken moans vibrated against her.
When she finally came, the warm, thick taste spilled down his throat, leaving him dizzy, weak, and soaked in her scent. But the night wasn't done.
"Turn around. Get on all fours."
Her voice was sharp, merciless.
The next toy she held was thick, cold, and glistening with oil — longer than anything he'd felt before. The crowd leaned closer, hungry, as she slowly pushed the toy into his stretched, twitching slit, inch by inch, until he cried out from the sweet, brutal ache.
"Now... show them."
"Show them how you moan when you're completely full."
Lily's body obeyed like a slave — back arched, mouth open, voice breaking in soft, wet sobs as the toy moved deeper, harder, faster, the crowd whispering, touching themselves, feeding on his humiliation.
And deep inside, his cursed hole pulsed with a forbidden truth:
He was addicted to being used.
And he never wanted it to stop.
The night deepened, and Lily's body had long forgotten the difference between pleasure and pain.
His throat was sore from moaning, his hips bruised from being held in place, and his insides stretched so deep that every breath felt like a whimper.
The woman who claimed him wasn't satisfied yet.
She pulled him by the leash, leading him off the stage, across the dim-lit hall, and into a corner surrounded by hungry women, all dressed in black and red.
"Let them taste you."
"Let them ruin you."
She pushed him down onto all fours — ass raised, mouth open — like a perfect, obedient pet. The first woman knelt behind him, parting his sore, used slit with her fingers, smirking at the sight of it twitching, still leaking.
"He's still wet... still hungry."
One by one, they surrounded him.
Some pushed their fingers deep into his mouth, others into his trembling hole — stretching him wider, using him like a living, breathing doll, his body shaking under every new wave of abuse.
"Look at his face. Look how much he loves it."
"A cursed femboy... born to be used."
Lily's moans were soft, almost sweet — his cursed body craving more even as it ached for mercy.
By the time the night was over, his throat was coated with the taste of strangers, his hole loose, dripping, and marked by all their touch.
And deep inside, a wicked, addicting thought rooted itself:
"This is my life now."
"This is where I belong."