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ID
1500
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6a7f1d38575d7ff16c8a9df90c849982
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Explicit
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Leomon the Whored

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"Sssso, we ssshall ssstart the bidding on this fine whore at two hundred Bits." He gestured toward the bound and glazed-eyed Leomon. "Are there any takers?"

The crowd barely knew what they were looking at. The strange naga-like digimon cavorting atop the auctioneer platform was not someone they recognized. Despite this, everyone had found it strangely difficult to confront him. At first it was simply because he was so charmingly evasive and moved with total confidence, as if he belonged there. Yet, even when the gruffer and tougher sorts came around to demand to know why he was setting up the auctioneer's platform for his own use without permission from the village's leadership, they had made no headway in removing him. The guards had found it quite difficult to remember why they had come to remove him in the first place, and were constantly distracted by the prismatic crystals that he hung all over the auction yard as decorations. They reflected the evening lamplight in such fascinating ways, and apparently they were part of his namesake as a digimon, which everyone who looked at the prisms for very long found simply fascinating.

"Prismon, at your ssservice," he had said warmly to the guards after helping them to see his worthiness and importance.

Appearances alone should've made it blatantly obvious that they were dealing with a viral digimon and an unusually suspicious one at that, but the more anyone looked at those appearances, the faster his spell over them took hold. His forehead in particular bore a symbol looking like an eye open wide in shock, and that symbol was flanked on either side by aggressively angled, goatlike horns. The skin of his face was so tight against his skull that it lent him an almost undead, patchwork-carapace look. Two warped-looking frills jutted backwards from the sides of his head, creating something that appeared to be partly a cobra hood, partly a leathery shield, and partly the wings of an old and weatherbeaten moth. His torso was muscular yet almost sickly in appearance in spite of that, and spikes ran down the length of his tail below his naga midriff. In his hands and around his arms he carried a collection of quartz prisms with various mineral impurities, each of them a different color and of a slightly different shape. It was these prisms that he seemed to keep making more of, pulling them out of nowhere to decorate the auction site. The light bounced entrancingly through them, and the chains wove their way upward along his arms, as if to visually foreshadow what he would do to the wills of his victims.

And it was already, more or less, too late for anyone to do much about it. The only one who might've done something about it was already tied up here, presented shamefully and subdued for bidding as a whore.

"Two hundred bits!" came one voice from the crowd.

"Four hundred! No way is he getting sold that cheap. Just look at that body!"

"Five."

"Five hundred Bitsss!" confirmed Prismon a moment later. "Five hundred -- do I hear six, sssix hundred?"

Leomon wasn't showing his current thoughts much to the outside world, and responded little to the bidding war going on around him. He let out the occasional pleading groan, as if he were in the middle of some prolonged erotic dream from which he could not manage to wake, but these seemed to come without regard to how the bidding was going.

But, nevertheless, Leomon was thinking. He was thinking a lot. He kept remembering things, the circumstances of his defeat replaying themselves in his head over and over again. His own eyes were fixed upon one of Prismon's crystals, and he couldn't manage to look away. He hadn't been able to look away for over two days now.

In flickers of emotion and sadness, Leomon remembered stumbling upon the cave. After a night of fruitless searching in the village, he had found the cave by pure luck, due to catching the scent of his old friend Zudomon on the air. Inside, he had found two digimon, both bound in a most perverse fashion, with large tubs full of semen surrounding them. The red one, Growlmon, seemed exhausted and woozy, but Zudomon's impressive stamina had yet to run out, and his body was continuing to push out more and more of his essence without so much as a touch on the shaft.

Leomon had felt mixed emotions upon seeing this. Mostly anger, with just the slightest inner whisper of how arousing it seemed. A whisper which he easily ignored... at first.

In the cave behind Zudomon, Leomon had found a rookie calling himself Snakeyemon. The little snake had reacted with terror to seeing him, and had explained that a big monster was holding all of them hostage here and would be putting the little snake under its spell next.

Leomon had taken one look at the snake's appearance and listened to the words, and had not believed them. He was zealous for justice, and the circumstances and the snake's panicked surprise had seemed to implicate guilt or complicity. Nevertheless, Leomon had not attacked him right away, but had commanded that Snakeyemon go ahead of him to escape the cave.

When Snakeyemon passed through the chamber with the bound digimon, both had moaningly referred to him as their lord and master, and this had resulted in Leomon immediately declaring an attack in the serpent's direction:

"Fist of the Beast King!!"

The fiery hot wave of energy shot out, roaring in the shape of a lion's head, and struck Snakeyemon full-on.

It would've been over. It should've been over. A direct hit like that on most rookies would've vaporized them into digital dust.

And indeed, Leomon expected it was over, and that was his great mistake. Rather than confirming his enemy's destruction, he had immediately gone to try snapping Zudomon out of the mind control by speaking to him.

Then there had been the glowing of the semen, and the light of digivolution blasting through the cave.

The rest... well.

The rest had been many Fists thrown at the monster known as Prismon, while the latter spoke wrathfully about the fact Leomon had dared to harm his beautiful body. Prismon was far sturdier than his rookie counterpart, and far swifter too... and with each failed attack, the attacks themselves seemed to get weaker. The prisms kept glinting, and with time Leomon felt his thoughts going hazy.

That tiny, tiny voice of arousal at seeing his old friend bound...

That voice had grown louder, and the voice of reason quieter. With time, even the urgency of the moment had begun to fade. WIth further minutes of the fighting, Leomon began to stumble and forget why he was there in the first place.

Prismon had explained it to him. Prismon had explained the Leomon was Growlmon's husband, and that both of them were very poor and unskilled, and that it was very important for Leomon to go whore himself for Bits in order to win the bread for Growlmon... who was always quite famished for bread, after all.

It was a ridiculous story, so ridiculous that even in his muddled state, Leomon had known better than to trust it... at first.

Nevertheless, Prismon had repeated it. He had insisted upon it. He had begun to make it real. It had kept growing realer as Growlmon pushed Leomon down and used him, penetrating him on Prismon's command while Zudomon just kept watching and cumming harder for Prismon to feed off of.

The snake was feeding off of all of them, but from Leomon and Zudomon most especially. Their strength, vitality, and willpower in combat were all great enough that they could fuel the serpent especially well.

Leomon remembered all of this, the thoughts replaying in his head over and over while the bidding continued to rise.

He remembered that his memories had been altered. Prismon had allowed him to remember that.

But Leomon's conversion was now so deep and ingrained that he did not object to the idea. He thought, behaved, and felt as if his new destiny was both entirely real and had always been real.

The first time he felt something with regards to the auction was when the bidding passed 3000 Bits. He felt pleased, and he thought to himself, I am worth so much bread now... poor exhausted Growlmon can finally eat all of the bread he wants.

"Five thousand!"

"Six!"

The crowd was working itself into a frenzy, and Leomon felt horny and sensual and eager to serve.

  • * *

About a minute later, a green, grunting, tusk-bearing digimon known as Ogremon stepped forward from the auction crowd. He had been silent until this point, his mind full of many thoughts and feelings at seeing old Leomon up for whoring.

Now, however, Ogremon didn't... quite...

He didn't quite remember anymore why he had traveled to this village in the first place. That thought should've troubled him, but right now all he could think about were Leomon's abs, and those bound-up arms and shackled ankles.

Oh, what things Ogremon had wished he could do with that tied-up muscular body, from the moment he first saw the big lion tied there for rent...

"Sixteen thousand!" said someone else in the crowd, recklessly raising the bid by quite a lot.

"Sixteen and one!"

"Man up and bid like you mean it! Seventeen!"

Then Ogremon had realized it: he could have that hunk-turned-whore for the evening. He could bend that insufferable do-gooder over and teach 'em a new place in life.

Ogremon could do it. He had everything he needed right here in his sack.

Or, in his coinpurse, to be precise.

"Go home!!" Ogremon roared over the crowd, in a tone so aggressive that it might've started a fight if not for the orderliness-promoting prisms glinting around the area. "This one's mine! One hundred thousand Bits -- and my club against the skull of anyone who says otherwise!"

Not that his other sack wasn't feeling ready for the encounter as well. He scratched uncouthly at it through his loincloth while waiting for anyone who might dare to oppose him to speak up.

No one did. Ogremon looked ready to kill over this whored-out hero, and it just wasn't seeming worth the risk for anyone else. Steadily, more and more backed off, and the crowd opened a path for Ogremon to approach the auctioneer's stage.

"Exsellent," said Prismon as he reached out to take the Bits from the green one. "This one shall accompany you wherever you might be lodging tonight."

Ogremon scratched his head. In his zeal to purchase Leomon for the evening, he had forgotten the corresponding matter of renting a place to sleep. Ogremon didn't have many more bits to his name, currently. The hundred thousand had been a recent milestone in saving up from his mercenary work.

"I don't have a place," barked Ogremon, as if he didn't need one... but his head felt funny. Ugh, he just wanted the snake to hand over the Leomon booty and be done with it!

"Patience, paaatiense," hissed Prismon. "You must not be hasty. If you are new in town, I can provide a place for you to stay. Consider it my treat for your generous bid."

"Heh, generous? That's Leomon!" said Ogremon, even in his present mental fog remembering quite well that Leomon's reputation normally preceded him.

"Ah, is that what he is called?" wondered Prismon. "Well, to you tonight he is just another Whore-mon. You're going to get your rocks off inside him very, very well."

Ogremon failed to notice how much tone of the words had left the realm of casual talk, and how much they had become suggestions bordering on outright commands.

"Heh, darn right I am," grunted the big brute. He reached up to grab Leomon by the meaty forearm, and the once-proud lion could only moan softly in response, already almost begging to be bent over and ploughed.

"Now, come... let usss sshow you to your free lodging for the evening," said Prismon.

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