The two trainers hustled her through the now-almost-empty waiting area, and into a clean up/staging area.
It was familiar, certainly she’d been moved like this from one area to another multiple times over the past few days. But there was a huge difference. This time she had been sold. She was no longer a trainee. She was a slave.
Someone’s slave. And she didn’t even know who! She belonged to someone, a man or a woman, household, an organization.
Breathe. She reminded herself. Just keep breathing. It’s going to be okay. Whoever it is. At the most fundamental level, it doesn’t even matter. She was owned. That was the most important thing. Owned. No longer an independent individual. No longer an adult. No longer a person.
A slave. To be used. To be played with. To be ignored. Whatever. And then possibly even to be sold again. No volition. No choices. Just being. Pleasing. Showing up. Being herself. Allowing the future to unfold.
Actually, the idea of it was calming. Nothing to worry about. No decisions. Just fate and her owner.
Nikki felt the air move in and out of her lungs. She felt her nakedness. Remembered the eyes of the entire audience on her. Thought about how she had given herself over, piece by piece, to this process. How complete it was now. Whatever the outcome, she had come so far.
This letting go, this release – Wow. Nothing could compare.
She felt the familiar warmth of the wetness between her legs. Her arousal still present, still vivid, connected directly to the reality of who and what she was now. A direct link – slavery-arousal. Amazing.
In a way, Nikki had never felt freer. Sure, she had no idea what the future held. She didn’t know where she would live, or what she would do all day. She didn’t know what kind of food she’d eat, or whether she’d sleep on the floor or in a bed.
But somebody had just paid over a million dollars for her. A million dollars! The number was staggering. She’d never heard of anybody being sold for that much.
At least it was unlikely that she’d be left in a dark corner and ignored.
Whatever happened, she had no regrets. There was nothing she could have done differently. She didn’t have any choices… and without choices she could have no regrets.
Nikki felt her shoulders relax as the trainer wiped down her skin with a damp cloth. She hadn’t realized just how sticky she was, she had broken out in a harsh sweat up on that platform. It felt soooo good to have the cool cloth on her back.
He was rubbing the cloth up under her breasts now. She could feel the substantial weight shift as he moved her breast up and rubbed under the right breast and then under her left. He was standing in front of her, leaning forward. She could smell his skin, fresh and masculine. His hands were dry and warm.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to float in the sensation. Feeling his hands, her skin, her sex.
“Mmmmm” she moaned. The sound coming from her, once again, involuntarily.
“That’s right, girl.” The trainer spoke low in her ear, settling her the way you would settle a dog as you were grooming him. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
He did have her. For this moment, at least. She was in his hands and there was nothing else.
His hands travelled down her body, along the curve of her waist and down over her hips. She rocked them forward as he leaned down and scrubbed up her inner thigh. She opened her legs wider in response to his gentle tapping inside her leg.
He was wiping the wet cloth against her pubis now. Rubbing. Wiping away the sweat and the moisture, the evidence of her prior cum. He knelt in front of her.
He wasn’t just trying to clean her. Ohhh! Would they ever stop???
But of course, she couldn’t play the innocent. She had responded as soon as he started touching her. He was just reacting to that response. Playing with her. Like any boy given a new toy to hold, he was checking out how it worked.
His fingers were probing into her now. Slipping between her labia. Finding the slick wetness, pushing deeper. He had two fingers in her cunt now. And now he was sliding another finger into her anus, his hand sideways. And he was fucking it in and out, pushing in harder, further.
And she was responding. Just like she always did. Just like a good toy. Her skin was flushing, her breath coming harder and faster, shallow.
He pulled his hand out.
He really was just playing. He wasn’t going to take her all the way. He was just testing her response. Seeing what would happen.
Now he went back to washing her. Just as though he hadn’t just had his fingers inside her. As though he hadn’t just felt her arousal. As though she hadn’t just gotten wetter from his touch.
Nikki heard him snigger a little as he stood back up to lift the back of her hair and scrub her neck. He turned to the other trainer and said “she’s a hot one, no wonder she went for so much.”
“Yeah,” the other trainer replied. “It’s not every day that you touch million dollar pussy.”
They both laughed. Like two frat boys who just found a couple of six packs at the back of the fridge.
Yep. She was an object. Chattel. Nothing more.
She heard the footsteps, recognized them, before she saw him. It was Mark. Mark was walking towards her.
Mark! Did that mean he’d paid a million bucks for her? Was he coming to claim his property? Ohhhh! How wonderful that would be!!! Her mind flashed to his room, to waking at the foot of his bed every morning. To being HIS. Staying with him, being his property.
Nikki felt Mark’s touch. It was Mark! He touched her shoulder, turned her towards him.
She looked up at him. Her stomach did a little lurch.
It was Mark. The face she loved. The eyes, so expressive, so caring. The mouth, a mouth that could give such pleasure, could correct her and reward her.
He looked so sad!
Ohh! He was here to say good bye. He wasn’t here to tell her that he had paid the money, that he was her owner. He was here to have one last moment with her before she left the facility for the last time.
Nikki felt the sadness transfer from Mark to her. It was obvious. She felt the tears well up in her eyes, her throat burning, and then the tears rolling down her face.
Mark reached out and touched her cheek.
“Yes.” He nodded, sagely. “They let me come back to see you, but you’ll be leaving before morning.”
Ohhh! That soon? Practically NOW.
Mark stroked her hair back from her face and she followed his fingers like a puppy about to be fed a treat.
He lifted her chin so their eyes met. “But you will always be mine. I trained you. I made you what you are. And you will always be a Mark Gold slave.”
She looked back at him with an unwavering gaze.
He was right, of course. She would always be his.
That didn’t make her any less sad.
He leaned in and kissed her. The kiss hungry and searching. Taking her, touching her soul. She tasted him. The unique flavor of him. Mmmmm… Delicious.
He pulled back. His eyes locked on hers again. His body close enough that she could feel his heat. She just wanted this to go on forever. To touch him and hold him and be his.
“You’re going to go… and you’re going to be fine. I am proud of you. Quite an impressive amount, too.”
He looked searchingly at her. She knew he was going to tell her. Going to tell her what was going to happen. But surprisingly enough, she didn’t really care.
She was shocked at her own ability to accept it. Yes, it was sad. Very sad. Yes, she wished she could stay with Mark, be his, have the romance of it. But that was not what this was about. It was not what she had agreed to when she had started at the facility.
She was chattel, to be sold to the highest bidder, not to be in love, not to have some kind of romantic fantasy of monogamous love, happily ever after, shared mortgage and child rearing. That was what she was escaping.
This was about giving herself up. This was about release. This was her future.
“You want to know?” His voice was mocking. Of course she wanted to know. How could she not want to know? It wasn’t a serious question. It was a test. A test like many others. In her prior life, she would have just said “Of course, I want to know. Tell me.” She would have demanded an answer, and she would have gotten it. Immediately.
But this was not her prior life. This was something new. This was something different than anything she could have even imagined in her prior life.
Nikki centered herself. Took another breath. And said, “If you wish, Sir. I am here for your pleasure.”
She actually sounded like she meant it too. She did. She had waited this long. If Mark wanted her to wait a little longer, she could do it. Obviously she would learn at some point. Since it didn’t really matter… she didn’t even feel any anxiety over it.
Mark smiled. “Good answer, girl.” He reached up and stroked her head. “Good girl. I’m so pleased with you.”
She loved the feeling of his hands on her. Anywhere. On her hair, on her back, on her ass, in her cunt. She didn’t care. Just touching her. Please touching her. Please. She pleaded with him with her eyes and he smiled back at her.
Nikki knew he loved her. Felt it. Felt it deep in her bones, in her soul.
She looked up at him. Her willingness and her submission expressed in her eyes.
“You know you had a bunch of possibilities. There was lot of interest, and there were a lot of bidders, as evidenced by the final price.”
Nikki nodded.
“Charles was trying to hang in to the end. He really wanted you. I talked to him about it last night; his plan was to have you work in his business to help payback the purchase price.”
Nikki had to admit she was disappointed. She had imagined her life with Charles, his insight and wisdom influencing her path. His gentle but serious ways. His willingness to correct her as necessary, give her absolution, keep her in her place. And the idea of the household. A group of slaves. Younger girls to help guide and train. She loved it.
“He just couldn’t front the cash for that much. It was impossible.”
“I understand, Sir. It was a lot of cash.”
Nikki hesitated. She knew it wasn’t her place to ask questions, but she really wanted to know. She thought about it. And then she opened her mouth.
“I assume, Sir, that you had the same issue…” It wasn’t really a question. It was just a statement. There was just an implied question there.
Would he correct her? Or let her slide.
He let it slide.
“Yes. We were ready to go up to $600K, but anything more than that we couldn’t take the risk. You are already so accomplished, we couldn’t raise your value through more training.” He shook his head, sounding regretful. “We couldn’t do it.”
“I understand, Sir.” She did. She never would have expected him to be able to spend even $600K.
He was continuing.
“I was kind of surprised. The serbs bid too. They didn’t hang in for long. They don’t have that kind of money. But you must have made an impression!”
Nikki remembered that night. And the aches she had after. She had wanted to please them. She had pleased them. Nevertheless, she was really really glad she wasn’t going to have to do it again!
“Sylvie tried too. She stayed in it all the way to the end. She clearly saw how you could fit into her lifestyle.”
Nikki had seen it too. The glamour of it. The celebrities. And Sylvie herself. So beautiful, so artistic. So fascinating. Her life would have been so interesting. Such a diversity of people, activities, style. It would have been amazing.
Then it hit her. If it wasn’t Mark, wasn’t Charles, wasn’t the Serbs, wasn’t Sylvie… who was it? Who was it????
Was it the telephone bidder? Ohhh! Somebody who hadn’t even bothered to come evaluate her? Somebody who was so wealthy and so confident that he or she could spend a million dollars sight unseen!
Mark could see that she had put 2+2 together. That she had realized it was the telephone bidder.
“Yes. It was the bidder on the phone.”
Nikki nodded at him. Waiting for him to say more. Please say more. Please tell her what this was going to be. Please….
All her calm and willingness to let whatever would be, be -- seemed to fly out the window. Now that the information was right in front of her, it was so hard for her not to reach for it.
“Breathe girl.” Mark knew her so well. He saw immediately that she had lost it. And he was centering her, the way he knew how to do.
Ohhh, how was she going to make it with all new people? Mark knew her. Loved her. Helped her. Would she have somebody like him at this new place? Would anybody care for her the way he did?
Of course, she had internalized many of his lessons. She knew how to do much of this for herself. How to center herself. How to remind herself of her submission. How to remember her place.
She breathed in. Breathed out. Looked up at him, her submission clear in her face. He knew she was ready now to have him not say anything.
“The bidder is a big owner. His name is Don Farnsworth. He wasn’t here for the auction because he lives in the south of England, near Bath and he’s got a very large household and an important business.”
Nikki was starting to think about what that all meant. England! A large household! What would that mean for what she would do? What would her life be like? Would she have to speak with a British accent? How large was “large”? Would she be one of 10 or one of 50?
Mark reached up and stroked her head again. Holding her eyes with his.
“I’ll tell you everything I know, girl. But don’t let your imagination run away with you. It will be what it will be. Nothing you can do about it now.”
Nikki nodded. He was right. She needed to relax and stop imagining so much.
“He has 30 slaves. A full household. House slaves, entertainment slaves, and slaves that help him with his work. I don’t know what he will have you do, and you may not know until you get there.”
Nikki nodded again.
“He’s sent his chief of staff to get you. He’s an older slave, named Patrick Connaugh. Very traditional. Very strict. Very organized. He will take you back on Mr. Fransworth’s plane.”
Ohhh. Mr. Farnsworth. So formal! And his own plane. Ok. Calm.
“He’ll be in to see you in about an hour. He’ll want to inspect you. Make sure you understand what’s expected.”
Nikki looked up at Mark. She knew this could be the last time she ever saw him. Somehow, though, it felt right. Felt good. He had made her what she was. And now he was letting her go. He loved her. Would always love her. She could carry that with her. She was growing up. Like a child.
She smiled.
“That’s right, girl. You’ll be fine.”
She closed her eyes. She would be. What ever happened. She would be fine.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Her turn
So now it was her turn. Finally. This was it.
Two handlers were there. One on each side of her. The one on her left looked vaguely familiar; was he the trainer who had done the examinations when they were all brought in for the initial display?
Nikki’s brain felt like it was on overdrive. She wasn’t sure of anything. It felt like time was standing still, every sensation and every feeling magnified. She could feel the hair on her neck, sweat starting to form. She could feel her nipples, hard and pointed. And she could feel the moisture between her legs. Yes. The arousal was right there, rising to the surface.
The familiar looking trainer leaned in and whispered in her ear “You will be fine, just allow yourself to feel what is happening to you…. And this should make it easier…” Just as he said that, she felt his right hand delving between her buttocks, his index finger slick with some kind of lube, pushing against her anus. Ohhh! He was lubing her. Making her ready for whatever was coming next. She jumped as she felt him move his finger deeper into her, but she also felt the moisture flow thicker in her cunt, her labia engorged with blood, her sex feeling swollen to twice its normal size.
The two trainers hustled her forward. This was really happening. Finally. She was being moved up to the auction platform. She was on display. She was going to be sold to the highest bidder. Her whole future happening now. She was helpless and without recourse. She was a slave.
Nikki felt her eyes flutter shut, the feelings so intense they were almost painful. Tightness in her belly, in her cunt, her asshole feeling the aftereffects of the penetration. She felt her sex, almost as though it was already full. So aware.
Just in time, she remembered she was on the big screen. They wouldn’t want to see her with her eyes closed. They would want to see her eyes, see her face, see her feelings. She was entertainment as well as chattel. She forced herself to look forward, to look at the big auctioneer.
He was so big. Even bigger this close. Massive arms, barrel chest, big beefy hands. Nikki blinked again. Those hands! They were going to be all over her in a minute. She had given herself over to this process, she was allowing this, and he was going to touch her where ever he pleased.
She gasped as the two handlers lifted her hands above her head and put them through too loops hanging down from a bar above the stage. The loops were tightened on her wrists; she could hold the ropes themselves, making it a little more comfortable on her wrists as they hoisted the loops higher. She was stretched out on her toes, almost hanging there.
And then he started to talk. “Beautiful, mature girl. First time sale. Mark Gold slave. A real prize”
He was talking about her. OHHHHH! Talking about her as an object to be purchased, to be owned, used, t o be taken. She had no say in it. No say in anything.
Nikki felt the auctioneer’s apron brush her ass before she felt his arms wrap around her, but then his hands were on her breasts, kneeding them, tweaking the nipples between thumb and forefinger. She gasped. Blinked. And felt her arousal build even further. It felt so good. He was lifting her breasts in his big hands, they were warm, firm, and surprisingly gentle.
“Does that feel good? “
Nikki nodded, strangely embarrassed to be on stage, her arousal on display. Even after all this time, her own reactions to being touched seemed crude, inappropriate, shameful. She knew this was just what they wanted, but the blush came to her cheeks anyway.
“We want to hear your voice, girl. Tell me, does that feel good?”
Ohhh! She was chattel. An object. Something to be bought and sold. And yet they still wanted to hear her voice. They wanted to force her to display her complicity in this. She was still a conscious being. She was still a person. With the power of language. They wanted to see that.
Nikki centered herself. She could do this. It was a performance. Perhaps the most important performance in her life. She had given business presentations in front of thousands of people, she could do this. She could.
“Yes Sir, it feels good Sir. Thank you.” Her voice started with a bit of a waver in it, but by the end it was strong and clear. This was hard, but she was well trained. She could do it.
“Good girl.” His right hand went up and patted her head. “Well trained. Sensitive breasts. Totally natural.” The auctioneer’s description flowed off his tongue. He was gifted, the phrases flowing from him in a continuous stream. Description, specific and compelling. He was going to get the highest possible price for her.
He gave her right breast a final tweak and then she felt him withdraw. The air cool now on her hot skin. She looked out into the crowd. Tried to see. The light was shining on her and she couldn’t make anything out in the crowd. She knew they were all there, but she couldn’t see them.
Ohhhh! This was really happening. She was on the auction platform. They were going to start bidding soon. Her stomach contracted again. She felt herself vibrating with the excitement of it. Wow.
Now he was back. What was he doing? He was leaning down and she tried to look down and see what he was doing, but her arms were blocking her view.
The auctioneer had taken hold of her right ankle. He tapped her knee twice on the inside. He wanted her to bend her knee? What was he doing?
Ohhhh! He had lifted her leg to the side and put her foot on something. It felt like a block of wood or something like that, not totally stable. She straightened her leg to stand on it. And he tapped her knee again. He wanted her to have her legs bent. Okay.
He moved to the other side and had her bend her left leg. Again, she went to straighten her leg and again he corrected her.
Nikki was in a frog position. Her legs spread. Her knees bent. Her feet teetering on these blocks. Her hands still suspended over her head. She had a range of motion, she could straighten her legs and move up 10-12 inches. But the more she lifted up the less stable the blocks were. The auctioneer pressed down on her shoulders, pulling her arms taught in the bonds. He obviously wanted her legs as bent as possible, her sex open and gaping.
She felt vulnerable and exposed. She knew they had a camera trained on her sex. She couldn’t see it, but it was the obvious thing. They were projecting an image of her wet and open cunt for the whole audience to see. Given how she felt, she knew they could see her arousal glistening, obvious to anyone. She was helpless to hide it. She didn’t want to disobey, but even if she had, she couldn’t bring her knees together without toppling off the blocks.
She breathed into the helplessness. Felt it fill her, cover her, make her warm and safe. Nothing to do now except experience it. And experience it she was. Time was crawling.
The auctioneer was in front of her. His voice continuing on. “Strong girl. Able to sustain difficult positions for long periods of time. Look at those thighs! She can leg press over 400lbs. Just imagine those wrapped around you!!!”
He was looking in her eyes now. “And such a hungry little pussy. Just look at her, so wet, so ready. Now let’s see how eager….”
Nikki felt something graze her upper thigh, on the inside. She knitted her brow together. What was he doing? It was puzzling. What did he want her to do?
“Okay girl. My hand is right there. Fuck yourself down on it.”
Ohhhh! Not only was he going to make her talk, he was going to make her put her own desire on display. He was not going to take this from her, but make her give it on her own.
Nikki groaned. She heard the groan amplified, just as the auctioneer’s voice had been. There were microphones all over the stage.
She did as she was told. She pulled on the bonds over her head, found a couple of millimeters of slack and lowered herself down.
Mmmmmm. She felt his fingers right there at her opening. She was so wet and ready it felt amazing. She just wanted more. It didn’t matter that everyone was watching, let them watch. She just wanted to be penetrated, to be filled, to be fucked. She just wanted to be sex, to feel sex, to have more.
The loops around her wrists pulled tight, she couldn’t get any lower. He had two fingers in her, about an inch, maybe two. Enough that she could move on it. And move she did. She lifted up, far enough that his finger tips popped out, and then slid down again, now a little deeper; he must have moved his hand again. Nikki was grateful.
She started to move in earnest. Her thighs rippling as she moved up and down, breasts shaking, buttocks gripping. She was getting a little more with each thrust, his two fingers in now to the second knuckle. She felt him curl up inside her touching the magic spot inside her. She could hear her moans, amplified, rhythmic, loud. Sounding like a little bird.
Her feet gripped the blocks of wood, trying not to move so much as to topple over, but at the same time needing to really move to get his fingers deeper, wanting more more more. She slid down further.
“A wanton slut. Just look at her go! Hungry cunt. Can’t get enough.”
He was talking about her. The auctioneer continued on. “Soooo tight. Hot and wet, strong kegel muscles. It’s like paradise in there.”
Nikki didn’t care. She was close to orgasm now and she just wanted more. He could talk about her as much as he wanted, as long as she still got his fingers.
She vaguely saw that he had reached his hand into his apron. What was he doing now? She moved her sex up and down on his hand, her voice rising, flesh jiggling.
She didn’t realize that he had nipple clamps until the first one was on her right breast. OUCH! Tight. The shock was enough to make her arousal back off a tiny bit, just enough to take the orgasm out of reach, But then the flesh adjusted and it was okay. Tight, but okay. She moved again, her breast feeling strange with the weight of the clamp on it. The arousal mounting again.
Just as she was back on the approach to her orgasm, her voice mounting, the auctioneer grabbed her other nipple. Of course, there was going to be a second one. And there it was. OUCH. Somehow, not as ouch as the first one. Amazing how the brain accustoms itself to pain.
He continued to thrust his fingers up into her as he added a chain to the two clamps and let her feel the weight of it swing as she thrust up and down. She gasped, the quality of her voice changing.
He moved the fingers of his right hand in her wet pussy as he used his left to lift the chain to her mouth. It was just long enough that when he pushed it to the back of her mouth it lifted her breasts up. She automatically looked down to ease the tension.
“NO girl. Head up!” I don’t want to have to tell you again.” His voice was firm and strong. There was no disobeying. Nikki lifted her head, feeling the bite of the clamps on her nipples.
“Nice obedience, good response to correction. Obviously wants to please.” He continued to narrate as if he was showing an inanimate object a piece of art, or a used car. The tone of his voice was exactly the same as it would have been if he had been describing the acceleration or the turning radius of a car.
Shockingly it just made Nikki hotter. She felt the eyes of the audience on her, felt her objectification, felt her status. Felt what was happening. She was being sold. This was it.
More than anything else, she felt the fingers in her, the clamps on her nipples. She felt her orgasm building. Gathering in her core. She was right there. Her breath coming hard. Her legs shaking. Her head rocking back, pulling her breasts even more taught.
Then she felt it. The auctioneer had reached around behind her. He was pushing something into her ass. Something BIG. She pushed out and felt her anus stretch to accommodate it.
“Beautifully anal. Totally responsive to double penetration.”
Now he addressed himself to her. “Do you have something to give us, girl?”
Nikki nodded and did her best to say “Yes Sir.” With the chain in her mouth it came out sounding more like “Yeth Thir.” She hoped he would accept it.
“Okay girl. Go ahead.”
Nikki opened herself even wider, felt the fingers deep inside her, his palm against her clit, and whatever it was in her ass. She was sooo full. Her eyes fluttered, she arched her back, pulling the chains even tighter, her voice high and squeaky, and the orgasm washed over her. Her legs shaking, her body convulsing, the blocks of wood rocking back and forth on the floor. She felt the sweat drip down off her sides.
Just as she crested, the auctioneer pulled the clamps from her breasts and the blood rushed back into her nipples the pain mixing with the orgasm and intensifying it even more. Nikki screamed. The auctioneer held her by the hair, steadying her.
“Great reactions. Loud. Intense. Full of life, this one.”
The trainer had been right. She had been herself. And apparently had been pleasing. Nikki smiled as best as she could with the chain still in her mouth..
The auctioneer pulled the dildo from her ass, kicked the blocks out and reached up to unhook her hands.
Nikki felt the blood rush back into her hands, the prickly sensation like she had slept on them. He guided her to clasp them behind her head.
“Stand still girl”
A simple instruction. And one she had practiced countless hundreds of times.
She stood. Legs hip distance apart. Back arched slightly. Breasts lifted up and out. Ribs engaged. Shoulders down.
He had a little flogger in his hand. Just a cute little one. He lifted it to her lips. She kissed it, automatically, without thought or hesitation. Of course. That’s just what you do.
And then he spanked her with it. Hard. She heard the blow before she felt it. The slapping sound magnified by the microphones. Then she felt it. White heat travelling up her spine. The shape of the flogger distinct on her butt cheek. Again. The slap and the heat. The blows were coming fast now. Her ass felt like it was on fire. And huge.
“Can take a good flogging. Not a pain slut, but pretty good tolerance for spanking.”
Shit. He was still talking. Narrating the whole experience.
Would this never end?
“Show the audience your red ass, girl”
Nikki turned to face away from the audience. Even though she knew the whole thing had been on the huge screens, this wasn’t just about giving them the show, it was also about her obedience. She accepted that as she spread her legs wider and bent over slightly to give them the best possible view.
“Too tempting to pass up…” The auctioneer’s voice seemed amused. What was he talking about?
Then she felt it. He had given her wet cunt a hard slap. With her legs spread like that it has provided the perfect target. The pain was intense! It travelled up her spine, filled her head, and she couldn’t help it – she screamed and jerked up. The scream was out of her without her even thinking about it. She scrambled to get back into position, to leave herself vulnerable to another slap if he wanted.
“As you can see…. Not a pain slut. But she tries! Good obedience.”
He patted her on the ass in comforting way. It would have been much more comforting if her ass hadn’t been so sore.
“I think we’re ready for the first bid. Do I have $100,000?”
Nikki closed her eyes for a moment. The bidding was starting! In a few moments it would be over and she would be sold.
Nikki breathed deep. Nothing she could do about it now.
Two handlers were there. One on each side of her. The one on her left looked vaguely familiar; was he the trainer who had done the examinations when they were all brought in for the initial display?
Nikki’s brain felt like it was on overdrive. She wasn’t sure of anything. It felt like time was standing still, every sensation and every feeling magnified. She could feel the hair on her neck, sweat starting to form. She could feel her nipples, hard and pointed. And she could feel the moisture between her legs. Yes. The arousal was right there, rising to the surface.
The familiar looking trainer leaned in and whispered in her ear “You will be fine, just allow yourself to feel what is happening to you…. And this should make it easier…” Just as he said that, she felt his right hand delving between her buttocks, his index finger slick with some kind of lube, pushing against her anus. Ohhh! He was lubing her. Making her ready for whatever was coming next. She jumped as she felt him move his finger deeper into her, but she also felt the moisture flow thicker in her cunt, her labia engorged with blood, her sex feeling swollen to twice its normal size.
The two trainers hustled her forward. This was really happening. Finally. She was being moved up to the auction platform. She was on display. She was going to be sold to the highest bidder. Her whole future happening now. She was helpless and without recourse. She was a slave.
Nikki felt her eyes flutter shut, the feelings so intense they were almost painful. Tightness in her belly, in her cunt, her asshole feeling the aftereffects of the penetration. She felt her sex, almost as though it was already full. So aware.
Just in time, she remembered she was on the big screen. They wouldn’t want to see her with her eyes closed. They would want to see her eyes, see her face, see her feelings. She was entertainment as well as chattel. She forced herself to look forward, to look at the big auctioneer.
He was so big. Even bigger this close. Massive arms, barrel chest, big beefy hands. Nikki blinked again. Those hands! They were going to be all over her in a minute. She had given herself over to this process, she was allowing this, and he was going to touch her where ever he pleased.
She gasped as the two handlers lifted her hands above her head and put them through too loops hanging down from a bar above the stage. The loops were tightened on her wrists; she could hold the ropes themselves, making it a little more comfortable on her wrists as they hoisted the loops higher. She was stretched out on her toes, almost hanging there.
And then he started to talk. “Beautiful, mature girl. First time sale. Mark Gold slave. A real prize”
He was talking about her. OHHHHH! Talking about her as an object to be purchased, to be owned, used, t o be taken. She had no say in it. No say in anything.
Nikki felt the auctioneer’s apron brush her ass before she felt his arms wrap around her, but then his hands were on her breasts, kneeding them, tweaking the nipples between thumb and forefinger. She gasped. Blinked. And felt her arousal build even further. It felt so good. He was lifting her breasts in his big hands, they were warm, firm, and surprisingly gentle.
“Does that feel good? “
Nikki nodded, strangely embarrassed to be on stage, her arousal on display. Even after all this time, her own reactions to being touched seemed crude, inappropriate, shameful. She knew this was just what they wanted, but the blush came to her cheeks anyway.
“We want to hear your voice, girl. Tell me, does that feel good?”
Ohhh! She was chattel. An object. Something to be bought and sold. And yet they still wanted to hear her voice. They wanted to force her to display her complicity in this. She was still a conscious being. She was still a person. With the power of language. They wanted to see that.
Nikki centered herself. She could do this. It was a performance. Perhaps the most important performance in her life. She had given business presentations in front of thousands of people, she could do this. She could.
“Yes Sir, it feels good Sir. Thank you.” Her voice started with a bit of a waver in it, but by the end it was strong and clear. This was hard, but she was well trained. She could do it.
“Good girl.” His right hand went up and patted her head. “Well trained. Sensitive breasts. Totally natural.” The auctioneer’s description flowed off his tongue. He was gifted, the phrases flowing from him in a continuous stream. Description, specific and compelling. He was going to get the highest possible price for her.
He gave her right breast a final tweak and then she felt him withdraw. The air cool now on her hot skin. She looked out into the crowd. Tried to see. The light was shining on her and she couldn’t make anything out in the crowd. She knew they were all there, but she couldn’t see them.
Ohhhh! This was really happening. She was on the auction platform. They were going to start bidding soon. Her stomach contracted again. She felt herself vibrating with the excitement of it. Wow.
Now he was back. What was he doing? He was leaning down and she tried to look down and see what he was doing, but her arms were blocking her view.
The auctioneer had taken hold of her right ankle. He tapped her knee twice on the inside. He wanted her to bend her knee? What was he doing?
Ohhhh! He had lifted her leg to the side and put her foot on something. It felt like a block of wood or something like that, not totally stable. She straightened her leg to stand on it. And he tapped her knee again. He wanted her to have her legs bent. Okay.
He moved to the other side and had her bend her left leg. Again, she went to straighten her leg and again he corrected her.
Nikki was in a frog position. Her legs spread. Her knees bent. Her feet teetering on these blocks. Her hands still suspended over her head. She had a range of motion, she could straighten her legs and move up 10-12 inches. But the more she lifted up the less stable the blocks were. The auctioneer pressed down on her shoulders, pulling her arms taught in the bonds. He obviously wanted her legs as bent as possible, her sex open and gaping.
She felt vulnerable and exposed. She knew they had a camera trained on her sex. She couldn’t see it, but it was the obvious thing. They were projecting an image of her wet and open cunt for the whole audience to see. Given how she felt, she knew they could see her arousal glistening, obvious to anyone. She was helpless to hide it. She didn’t want to disobey, but even if she had, she couldn’t bring her knees together without toppling off the blocks.
She breathed into the helplessness. Felt it fill her, cover her, make her warm and safe. Nothing to do now except experience it. And experience it she was. Time was crawling.
The auctioneer was in front of her. His voice continuing on. “Strong girl. Able to sustain difficult positions for long periods of time. Look at those thighs! She can leg press over 400lbs. Just imagine those wrapped around you!!!”
He was looking in her eyes now. “And such a hungry little pussy. Just look at her, so wet, so ready. Now let’s see how eager….”
Nikki felt something graze her upper thigh, on the inside. She knitted her brow together. What was he doing? It was puzzling. What did he want her to do?
“Okay girl. My hand is right there. Fuck yourself down on it.”
Ohhhh! Not only was he going to make her talk, he was going to make her put her own desire on display. He was not going to take this from her, but make her give it on her own.
Nikki groaned. She heard the groan amplified, just as the auctioneer’s voice had been. There were microphones all over the stage.
She did as she was told. She pulled on the bonds over her head, found a couple of millimeters of slack and lowered herself down.
Mmmmmm. She felt his fingers right there at her opening. She was so wet and ready it felt amazing. She just wanted more. It didn’t matter that everyone was watching, let them watch. She just wanted to be penetrated, to be filled, to be fucked. She just wanted to be sex, to feel sex, to have more.
The loops around her wrists pulled tight, she couldn’t get any lower. He had two fingers in her, about an inch, maybe two. Enough that she could move on it. And move she did. She lifted up, far enough that his finger tips popped out, and then slid down again, now a little deeper; he must have moved his hand again. Nikki was grateful.
She started to move in earnest. Her thighs rippling as she moved up and down, breasts shaking, buttocks gripping. She was getting a little more with each thrust, his two fingers in now to the second knuckle. She felt him curl up inside her touching the magic spot inside her. She could hear her moans, amplified, rhythmic, loud. Sounding like a little bird.
Her feet gripped the blocks of wood, trying not to move so much as to topple over, but at the same time needing to really move to get his fingers deeper, wanting more more more. She slid down further.
“A wanton slut. Just look at her go! Hungry cunt. Can’t get enough.”
He was talking about her. The auctioneer continued on. “Soooo tight. Hot and wet, strong kegel muscles. It’s like paradise in there.”
Nikki didn’t care. She was close to orgasm now and she just wanted more. He could talk about her as much as he wanted, as long as she still got his fingers.
She vaguely saw that he had reached his hand into his apron. What was he doing now? She moved her sex up and down on his hand, her voice rising, flesh jiggling.
She didn’t realize that he had nipple clamps until the first one was on her right breast. OUCH! Tight. The shock was enough to make her arousal back off a tiny bit, just enough to take the orgasm out of reach, But then the flesh adjusted and it was okay. Tight, but okay. She moved again, her breast feeling strange with the weight of the clamp on it. The arousal mounting again.
Just as she was back on the approach to her orgasm, her voice mounting, the auctioneer grabbed her other nipple. Of course, there was going to be a second one. And there it was. OUCH. Somehow, not as ouch as the first one. Amazing how the brain accustoms itself to pain.
He continued to thrust his fingers up into her as he added a chain to the two clamps and let her feel the weight of it swing as she thrust up and down. She gasped, the quality of her voice changing.
He moved the fingers of his right hand in her wet pussy as he used his left to lift the chain to her mouth. It was just long enough that when he pushed it to the back of her mouth it lifted her breasts up. She automatically looked down to ease the tension.
“NO girl. Head up!” I don’t want to have to tell you again.” His voice was firm and strong. There was no disobeying. Nikki lifted her head, feeling the bite of the clamps on her nipples.
“Nice obedience, good response to correction. Obviously wants to please.” He continued to narrate as if he was showing an inanimate object a piece of art, or a used car. The tone of his voice was exactly the same as it would have been if he had been describing the acceleration or the turning radius of a car.
Shockingly it just made Nikki hotter. She felt the eyes of the audience on her, felt her objectification, felt her status. Felt what was happening. She was being sold. This was it.
More than anything else, she felt the fingers in her, the clamps on her nipples. She felt her orgasm building. Gathering in her core. She was right there. Her breath coming hard. Her legs shaking. Her head rocking back, pulling her breasts even more taught.
Then she felt it. The auctioneer had reached around behind her. He was pushing something into her ass. Something BIG. She pushed out and felt her anus stretch to accommodate it.
“Beautifully anal. Totally responsive to double penetration.”
Now he addressed himself to her. “Do you have something to give us, girl?”
Nikki nodded and did her best to say “Yes Sir.” With the chain in her mouth it came out sounding more like “Yeth Thir.” She hoped he would accept it.
“Okay girl. Go ahead.”
Nikki opened herself even wider, felt the fingers deep inside her, his palm against her clit, and whatever it was in her ass. She was sooo full. Her eyes fluttered, she arched her back, pulling the chains even tighter, her voice high and squeaky, and the orgasm washed over her. Her legs shaking, her body convulsing, the blocks of wood rocking back and forth on the floor. She felt the sweat drip down off her sides.
Just as she crested, the auctioneer pulled the clamps from her breasts and the blood rushed back into her nipples the pain mixing with the orgasm and intensifying it even more. Nikki screamed. The auctioneer held her by the hair, steadying her.
“Great reactions. Loud. Intense. Full of life, this one.”
The trainer had been right. She had been herself. And apparently had been pleasing. Nikki smiled as best as she could with the chain still in her mouth..
The auctioneer pulled the dildo from her ass, kicked the blocks out and reached up to unhook her hands.
Nikki felt the blood rush back into her hands, the prickly sensation like she had slept on them. He guided her to clasp them behind her head.
“Stand still girl”
A simple instruction. And one she had practiced countless hundreds of times.
She stood. Legs hip distance apart. Back arched slightly. Breasts lifted up and out. Ribs engaged. Shoulders down.
He had a little flogger in his hand. Just a cute little one. He lifted it to her lips. She kissed it, automatically, without thought or hesitation. Of course. That’s just what you do.
And then he spanked her with it. Hard. She heard the blow before she felt it. The slapping sound magnified by the microphones. Then she felt it. White heat travelling up her spine. The shape of the flogger distinct on her butt cheek. Again. The slap and the heat. The blows were coming fast now. Her ass felt like it was on fire. And huge.
“Can take a good flogging. Not a pain slut, but pretty good tolerance for spanking.”
Shit. He was still talking. Narrating the whole experience.
Would this never end?
“Show the audience your red ass, girl”
Nikki turned to face away from the audience. Even though she knew the whole thing had been on the huge screens, this wasn’t just about giving them the show, it was also about her obedience. She accepted that as she spread her legs wider and bent over slightly to give them the best possible view.
“Too tempting to pass up…” The auctioneer’s voice seemed amused. What was he talking about?
Then she felt it. He had given her wet cunt a hard slap. With her legs spread like that it has provided the perfect target. The pain was intense! It travelled up her spine, filled her head, and she couldn’t help it – she screamed and jerked up. The scream was out of her without her even thinking about it. She scrambled to get back into position, to leave herself vulnerable to another slap if he wanted.
“As you can see…. Not a pain slut. But she tries! Good obedience.”
He patted her on the ass in comforting way. It would have been much more comforting if her ass hadn’t been so sore.
“I think we’re ready for the first bid. Do I have $100,000?”
Nikki closed her eyes for a moment. The bidding was starting! In a few moments it would be over and she would be sold.
Nikki breathed deep. Nothing she could do about it now.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The front of the line
Finally, she was at the front of the line. Now she could see. She could see into the big room where they were holding the auction, could see up to the platform, could see the auctioneer, could see the big video screens, could see the audience.
It was an ingenious system. Not surprising. Everything they did at the facility was well thought through, professional, high quality.
The auction itself was taking place on a raised platform at the front of the room. Nikki watched the slave in front of her be hustled up the four stairs to the platform. A youngish boy, his pale skin glistening with sweat as the two trainers stood on each side of him. The auctioneer stood at the center of the platform waiting. He was a large man. Nikki had never seen him before. That added to the mystery of it, she supposed.
The auctioneer was dressed completely in black. His bald head shone in the spot lights trained on him. He wore an oiled leather bib-apron covering the whole front of his outfit – protection, she supposed against any bodily fluids; blood, sweat, cum, whatever might land on him. Nikki could see the muscles of his arms rippling. He turned briefly away from her and she realized that he had a utility belt with a variety of “tools”. They included paddles, whips, dildos, prods, cuffs; she wasn’t even sure what all of them were.
But not everybody from the audience could see everything that was happening on the platform. The audience was large – at least 500 people, the rows of seats filling the huge space. So there were video screens. Gigantic displays at each side of the platform, showing various views. Right now there was one camera focused on the face of the slave being led up to the center of the platform. Another displaying his erection in HUGE proportions, another showing the round curve of his ass, jiggling as he walked.
Nikki was stunned. Somehow the images of the boy, or rather the pieces of him, made him even more of an object than the fact that he was being auctioned. Seeing him broken into pieces, separated into his component parts, made her feel that they were implying that he was only the sum of those parts, not a whole person at all. She imagined herself being broken into pieces herself. Scary.
The two trainers moved the slave into position at the center of the platform and pushed him to his knees. Nikki watched, holding her breath, as they attached him. His knees fit into grooves on the floor, his hands were balanced on blocks of wood, and the trainers attached his chin with a strap hanging from a hook in the ceiling. It held his head up, but left him looking like he was bandaged, as if he was undergoing some kind of an old fashioned toothache remedy.
Nikki could see his face on one of the video screens. He was blinking in the light; it wasn’t clear whether he was trying to blink back tears. He looked stunned, but there was something incredibly beautiful about his face. It reached deep into Nikki and touched her heart. She could feel his submission, his acceptance of this. She could see his choice. He was this. He was a slave. He belonged at this auction. This was somehow right for him. It was how it was supposed to be.
Nikki sighed. If only she would be so beautiful. So accepting. So right.
The auctioneer pulled a huge wooden lever on the edge of the raised platform and Nikki squinted to see what he was doing. It looked like some kind of a lock or a release mechanism. What was he going to do?
Ohhhh! It was a turntable. He had unlocked it. And now he could spin the slave in a circle.
“Beautiful young boy. Eager, willing, ready, for his first real home. Who is going to take him home tonight?”
The auctioneer chuckled as he spun the boy around. Now his ass was to the audience, his face inches from the black apron of the auctioneer.
“Receptive mouth.”
Nikki watched as the auctioneer selected a huge rigid phallus. It was lifelike, with a bulbous head and a rough surface.
The auctioneer spoke softly but firmly to the boy, “Open.” One simple word.
Even though the boy’s ass was to the audience, they could all see his face projected on the screen. Nikki saw it too. Saw him hear the word, understand it, and struggle to obey. The strap under his chin made it difficult, but he pushed his head back, his neck straining, the vein on the side standing out.
The boy opened his mouth, and the auctioneer pushed the object deep into it. He took it all the way in. With his head tilted back like this, his throat was perfectly aligned and the phallus was able to slide right down, filling him, choking him, cutting off his breath. Nikki could see the desperation in his face, but also the acceptance. He was accepting this penetration, accepting it like a benediction, like a sacrament. He was taking the body of the system into his mouth.
Nikki moaned softly to herself. This was powerful. He was so submissive, so beautiful. And soon it would be her up there. She was next. Next! The thought traveled through her like an electric current. Nothing she could do about it now. She was going to be objectified and sold, just like this boy. She swallowed hard.
The auctioneer was had one hand on the boy’s forehead and he was now pulling the phallus out of the boy’s throat. Nikki watched it slide out.
“See how lovely. How easily he takes it.”
The auctioneer was right. It was lovely.
But he wasn’t done.
Nikki watched as the auctioneer reached into the pocket of his apron for a moment and lifted his right hand out, shining with some kind of oil. He moved his foot on some kind of pedal and spun the turntable around. Again, so clever. His right hand slick with lube, his left holding the dildo, he didn’t have any way to spin the table if he didn’t use his foot.
The boy’s ass was now right in front of the auctioneer, his face towards the audience. The auctioneer reached down between the boy’s buttocks, and on the big screen Nikki could see him slide two fingers in, and then slide them deeper.
The boy moaned. The moan, soft and plaintive, but also full of submission and pleasure, was amplified a hundred times and was audible to everyone in the audience. How humiliating. Nikki felt her eyes close as she was filled with empathy for the boy. How exposed! His emotions, his sensations, his feelings, as much on display as his body.
Now the phallus was being slid in. Nikki saw, on the huge screen, as the head of the plastic cock pushed through the ring of muscle in the boys anus. And she watched as the auctioneer reached down with his now empty left hand and wrapped his meaty fingers around the boy’s cock. She could feel it herself. Penetration and stimulation. So much arousal!
She could see it, too. The boy’s cock was rigid. Red. Engorged. It looked painful. He was gasping now. Little short intakes of breath, “hunh, hunh, hunh, hunh.” In the rhythm of the auctioneer’s hands.
“Don’t you dare cum on me, boy. Breathe deep and hold it.” Nikki could hear a twinge of amusement in the auctioneer’s voice, but also a clear sense of command.
The boy’s stomach and ribs expanded as he filled his diaphragm with air. She could hear him blowing out through pursed lips. Centering himself using the techniques they had been taught. The same techniques that help during a beating, Nikki thought.
“Good control. He’s a good boy.” The auctioneer was going on, seemingly oblivious to the boy’s plight.
Then he slid the phallus out of the boy’s ass with a “plop” and stopped working his cock.
The bidding was going to start now. Nikki could feel it.
“Do I have 80 thousand for this fresh boy?”
Nikki couldn’t really see the audience, but she saw the auctioneer, pointing to the right hand side of the room.
“80 thousand in the front. Do I have 85?”
The boy looked stunned. He was blinking out into the audience. Nikki supposed he couldn’t really see individuals, she couldn’t. But the boy was obviously trying to look.
The bidding came fast and furious. The auctioneer started to jump up in bigger increments and then when it slowed, he made the increments smaller again.
Whatever discomfort the boy was feeling was unimportant. Nobody was really even looking at him at this point. He was just the object. Not a human being.
Finally, the auctioneer asked for “385 thousand, do I have 385?”
There was silence. He had gone too far. “384?” No?
He worked his way back down to the last bid, $381,000. With no takers.
“Sold to the lady in the back for $381,000!” His voice rang out.
Ohhhh! It was over. Two trainers came up on stage to hustle the boy out. It was over and she was next.
She was next! Her knees felt weak….
It was an ingenious system. Not surprising. Everything they did at the facility was well thought through, professional, high quality.
The auction itself was taking place on a raised platform at the front of the room. Nikki watched the slave in front of her be hustled up the four stairs to the platform. A youngish boy, his pale skin glistening with sweat as the two trainers stood on each side of him. The auctioneer stood at the center of the platform waiting. He was a large man. Nikki had never seen him before. That added to the mystery of it, she supposed.
The auctioneer was dressed completely in black. His bald head shone in the spot lights trained on him. He wore an oiled leather bib-apron covering the whole front of his outfit – protection, she supposed against any bodily fluids; blood, sweat, cum, whatever might land on him. Nikki could see the muscles of his arms rippling. He turned briefly away from her and she realized that he had a utility belt with a variety of “tools”. They included paddles, whips, dildos, prods, cuffs; she wasn’t even sure what all of them were.
But not everybody from the audience could see everything that was happening on the platform. The audience was large – at least 500 people, the rows of seats filling the huge space. So there were video screens. Gigantic displays at each side of the platform, showing various views. Right now there was one camera focused on the face of the slave being led up to the center of the platform. Another displaying his erection in HUGE proportions, another showing the round curve of his ass, jiggling as he walked.
Nikki was stunned. Somehow the images of the boy, or rather the pieces of him, made him even more of an object than the fact that he was being auctioned. Seeing him broken into pieces, separated into his component parts, made her feel that they were implying that he was only the sum of those parts, not a whole person at all. She imagined herself being broken into pieces herself. Scary.
The two trainers moved the slave into position at the center of the platform and pushed him to his knees. Nikki watched, holding her breath, as they attached him. His knees fit into grooves on the floor, his hands were balanced on blocks of wood, and the trainers attached his chin with a strap hanging from a hook in the ceiling. It held his head up, but left him looking like he was bandaged, as if he was undergoing some kind of an old fashioned toothache remedy.
Nikki could see his face on one of the video screens. He was blinking in the light; it wasn’t clear whether he was trying to blink back tears. He looked stunned, but there was something incredibly beautiful about his face. It reached deep into Nikki and touched her heart. She could feel his submission, his acceptance of this. She could see his choice. He was this. He was a slave. He belonged at this auction. This was somehow right for him. It was how it was supposed to be.
Nikki sighed. If only she would be so beautiful. So accepting. So right.
The auctioneer pulled a huge wooden lever on the edge of the raised platform and Nikki squinted to see what he was doing. It looked like some kind of a lock or a release mechanism. What was he going to do?
Ohhhh! It was a turntable. He had unlocked it. And now he could spin the slave in a circle.
“Beautiful young boy. Eager, willing, ready, for his first real home. Who is going to take him home tonight?”
The auctioneer chuckled as he spun the boy around. Now his ass was to the audience, his face inches from the black apron of the auctioneer.
“Receptive mouth.”
Nikki watched as the auctioneer selected a huge rigid phallus. It was lifelike, with a bulbous head and a rough surface.
The auctioneer spoke softly but firmly to the boy, “Open.” One simple word.
Even though the boy’s ass was to the audience, they could all see his face projected on the screen. Nikki saw it too. Saw him hear the word, understand it, and struggle to obey. The strap under his chin made it difficult, but he pushed his head back, his neck straining, the vein on the side standing out.
The boy opened his mouth, and the auctioneer pushed the object deep into it. He took it all the way in. With his head tilted back like this, his throat was perfectly aligned and the phallus was able to slide right down, filling him, choking him, cutting off his breath. Nikki could see the desperation in his face, but also the acceptance. He was accepting this penetration, accepting it like a benediction, like a sacrament. He was taking the body of the system into his mouth.
Nikki moaned softly to herself. This was powerful. He was so submissive, so beautiful. And soon it would be her up there. She was next. Next! The thought traveled through her like an electric current. Nothing she could do about it now. She was going to be objectified and sold, just like this boy. She swallowed hard.
The auctioneer was had one hand on the boy’s forehead and he was now pulling the phallus out of the boy’s throat. Nikki watched it slide out.
“See how lovely. How easily he takes it.”
The auctioneer was right. It was lovely.
But he wasn’t done.
Nikki watched as the auctioneer reached into the pocket of his apron for a moment and lifted his right hand out, shining with some kind of oil. He moved his foot on some kind of pedal and spun the turntable around. Again, so clever. His right hand slick with lube, his left holding the dildo, he didn’t have any way to spin the table if he didn’t use his foot.
The boy’s ass was now right in front of the auctioneer, his face towards the audience. The auctioneer reached down between the boy’s buttocks, and on the big screen Nikki could see him slide two fingers in, and then slide them deeper.
The boy moaned. The moan, soft and plaintive, but also full of submission and pleasure, was amplified a hundred times and was audible to everyone in the audience. How humiliating. Nikki felt her eyes close as she was filled with empathy for the boy. How exposed! His emotions, his sensations, his feelings, as much on display as his body.
Now the phallus was being slid in. Nikki saw, on the huge screen, as the head of the plastic cock pushed through the ring of muscle in the boys anus. And she watched as the auctioneer reached down with his now empty left hand and wrapped his meaty fingers around the boy’s cock. She could feel it herself. Penetration and stimulation. So much arousal!
She could see it, too. The boy’s cock was rigid. Red. Engorged. It looked painful. He was gasping now. Little short intakes of breath, “hunh, hunh, hunh, hunh.” In the rhythm of the auctioneer’s hands.
“Don’t you dare cum on me, boy. Breathe deep and hold it.” Nikki could hear a twinge of amusement in the auctioneer’s voice, but also a clear sense of command.
The boy’s stomach and ribs expanded as he filled his diaphragm with air. She could hear him blowing out through pursed lips. Centering himself using the techniques they had been taught. The same techniques that help during a beating, Nikki thought.
“Good control. He’s a good boy.” The auctioneer was going on, seemingly oblivious to the boy’s plight.
Then he slid the phallus out of the boy’s ass with a “plop” and stopped working his cock.
The bidding was going to start now. Nikki could feel it.
“Do I have 80 thousand for this fresh boy?”
Nikki couldn’t really see the audience, but she saw the auctioneer, pointing to the right hand side of the room.
“80 thousand in the front. Do I have 85?”
The boy looked stunned. He was blinking out into the audience. Nikki supposed he couldn’t really see individuals, she couldn’t. But the boy was obviously trying to look.
The bidding came fast and furious. The auctioneer started to jump up in bigger increments and then when it slowed, he made the increments smaller again.
Whatever discomfort the boy was feeling was unimportant. Nobody was really even looking at him at this point. He was just the object. Not a human being.
Finally, the auctioneer asked for “385 thousand, do I have 385?”
There was silence. He had gone too far. “384?” No?
He worked his way back down to the last bid, $381,000. With no takers.
“Sold to the lady in the back for $381,000!” His voice rang out.
Ohhhh! It was over. Two trainers came up on stage to hustle the boy out. It was over and she was next.
She was next! Her knees felt weak….
Friday, February 27, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Display
It was morning again. But this morning felt different somehow. There was a tension in the air. A feeling of hushed anticipation.
The slaves were lined up. All of them. And all the trainers were there. And some of the more senior house slaves. The girl who had done Nikki’s make-up before her date with Charles, the slaves who worked in the athletic facilities, the groomers, the wardrobe girls, the kitchen staff, everyone. It was quite a crowd.
Each of them had a role. Even with that many people, there was no chaos, no confusion. Just careful, organized, coordinated activity.
What was going on? It was obviously something very important. But nobody was communicating anything to the slaves. They were just being moved through, processed.
Was this it? Was it the auction, finally? Nikki wondered. Certainly it made sense… the slaves were being prepared for something, that was for sure. And it had been enough time since Mark had told her she was ready. She certainly felt ready, as ready as she was going to be.
Nikki breathed into it. Relaxed into the uncertainty of her status. It didn’t matter. If today was the auction, not the auction. She didn’t need to plan, didn’t need to take responsibility, didn’t need to do anything but relax and experience.
So she did.
Nikki breathed into it and felt herself as an object. Felt her status. Loved it.
She allowed all the activity and bustle to surround her, embrace her. And there was a lot of activity. She was washed, fed, her hair styled, her wax job touched up with tweezers (ouch!), her colon cleansed, her skin moisturized and polished, her face subtly made up. She was glamourized.
She felt the hands touching her. Probing and prodding. Moving her into position. And she allowed it to happen. Felt the ease and calm of it. Sure there was still a knot in the pit of her stomach. If this truly was auction day, then this was the day her fate would be determined.
Who would buy her? She tried to keep her mind off it, but she couldn’t keep from thinking about it.
Would it be Mark? Ohhhh! Thinking of that. Mark’s personal pet. Sleeping by the side of his bed. Helping him with his work (ohhh, how hard that would be, watching the new girls fall in love with him, watching his affection for them grow, and helping him to bond them to him…). But being with Mark all day, every day. Bringing him his food, washing him. Crawling into his bed every morning. Taking him into her body. How she wanted it.
Would it be Charles? He certainly wanted her. Be part of his household. Entertain his clients. Show off her worldliness and her skill. She could even help him with his work. She wasn’t his typical purchase, true enough. She was expensive, and he probably wouldn’t be able to flip her for a profit in a year or two, but she was sure he would know how to get value from her skills.
Would it be Sylvie? The island, the famous guests, the beautiful slaves. She let her mind wander to the lifestyle it represented. Mick Jagger? Contemporary artists? Authors, actors, leading thinkers, all taking refuge on Sylvie’s island. This was a place they could let down their guard and be themselves with the slaves as facilitators, tools, objects. The slaves there to be used, without fear of consequences, in any way the guests chose. Nikki felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. It was exciting, and scary at the same time.
Would it be the serbs? Nobody had talked about them as serious buyers. But what if…. Ohhh, the very idea frightened Nikki. To be purchased for hard use. Not her mind at all, but just her willingness to serve. No regard for her skills or abilities. Just another set of holes to be filled, another girl to serve them. She shuddered. Surely they wouldn’t want to pay as much as buyers who wanted her mind. Surely they could find a better deal with one of the younger girls. Nikki tried to push the possibility out of her mind.
Would it be somebody else? Somebody she had never even met. An Asian real estate speculator, a British aristocrat, an African warlord? A young speculator, an older established household? Would she end up as part of a household, at the bottom of the hierarchy, or as a senior slave helping to train younger girls? Would she be loved and treasured, or simply used. How long would it last? Would she be resold after?
The questions swirled in her head. She tried to relax into the feeling of having her hair brushed, her skin polished. But the excitement in the air was contagious. All of the slaves were realizing what was going on. There wasn’t any conversation – a few muttered commands, a couple of sharper corrections if the slaves weren’t paying attention. But mostly the trainers and house slaves went about their preparations unhampered.
As the clear polish on her fingernails and toenails was being touched up, Nikki realized that it was almost over. That everything that could be done to her had been done. That whatever was going to happen, was going to happen next.
She looked around and noticed that the senior trainers were leading slaves out of the preparation hall in small groups of 4-5, and then returning for more. Probably a third of the slaves were already gone.
Now her nails were done too. She was ready. She was moved over towards the side of the room with three other slaves. She recognized Tanuja, looking wonderful, her light brown skin glowing, her dark hair straight and long down her back. The two of them smiled at eachother. Nervous.
Finally the trainers were there. Not Mark, but one of the other senior trainers, attached a chain to Nikki’s collar. He gave her only about 18 inches of slack and pulled her towards the door. Nikki felt a rush of heat and wetness between her legs. Her nipples hardened. She felt a tingling feeling up her spine.
They walked through the door and the trainers led them through the corridors of the facility. Nikki heard her bare feet slapping against the marble floors and she was glad she was not being forced to crawl. They didn’t want to mark her knees, she supposed. They walked towards an area of the facility Nikki had never seen before. The farther they went the more the anticipation built.
Nikki was still not used to the strange mix of anticipation and lack of control. The idea of walking off into her fate. Having no idea what the result would be. Wow. It was powerful stuff.
She rounded another corner and suddenly the space opened up into a grand hall. Huge. Soaring ceilings. Like the Grand Palais in Paris. The sound of their footsteps was swallowed up in the vastness. It was awe inspiring.
And then Nikki saw what was happening. It was like an art exhibition. But the exhibition was human. Each of the slaves was mounted on a pedestal. Each one was mounted in a different position. A position tailored to his or her own individual characteristics.
Nikki saw one of the bigger male slaves mounted crouching, his shoulders up against a block of wood, his arms spread out, almost like he was being crucified. His thighs were straining, the muscles shaking. But somehow it made him look stronger and more masculine, impressive.
And at the base of each pedestal was a lectern, with a big binder – the dossier. Each of the potential buyers had been able to look at the dossiers on line, but here they were being displayed along with the actual slaves.
Ohhh…. A shudder ran down Nikki’s spine. The idea of “viewers”! Of course there would be viewers. Why not? That was standard auction procedure. There’d be a catalogue, but then there would also be a period of time where prospective buyers could review the merchandise. And she was merchandise.
But the idea of them reading the reports, the statistics about her body… how deep her vagina was, how much cock she could take in her mouth… and the reviews! What the serbs had written (translated into English of course), her cocksucking skills, her willness to please, Sylvie’s review of her service at the party… Ohhh! And Charles! There would be Charles’ report in there as well… her deepest darkest secrets, her shame.
She shuddered again. And what position would they put her in?
She didn’t have any more time to wonder about that. The trainer had led her over to a pedestal. In a pretty prominent place towards the center of the room. Her name was there, in 8 inch tall letters. Her dossier. And a number. Her auction number, she supposed.
The trainer unhooked the leash. Helped her to step up onto the pedestal. There was a metal frame, not really a cage, the bars were pretty far apart, but a frame that would enable them to attach her in whatever position they wished.
He tapped her on the arm. He didn’t need to say a word, she knew he wanted her to lift her arms over her head. And sure enough he attached her wrists to cuffs that were hanging down from the bars. Of course. They would want her hands over her head. It lifted her full breasts, made them rounder, more appealing. Also helped stretch her whole body, lifting her stomach and showing off her thighs to advantage.
He spread her legs slightly. Positioned them just as he wanted them and then attached ankle cuffs to two of the side bars at just the right distance. Nikki looked down. The floor of the pedestal was mirrored. Anybody looking down could look right up her cunt. See her glistening with arousal. Very clever.
Then he attached a posture collar. It was a tall collar that extended up the back of her neck, with a little rest for her chin. She couldn’t lower her head. It very effectively extended her spine. The combination of her arms above her head and the collar made her stand very very straight. Somebody had thought about this for a while and had devised the very best way to display her. Very clever.
She could still see around the room. Could see the other slaves. The girl next to her was on her hands and knees, her head lifted by a chin rest. The boy on the other side was standing with his legs spread wide and his arms spread too, displaying his beautiful abdominal muscles.
The trainer was just about finished attaching her. He stepped down from the pedestal. Reached up and twisted her right nipple, and then the left. He hardly had to do that, they were already incredibly erect. Finally he gave her a little “tap tap” on the ass – kind of like “I'm done here” and moved away.
Nikki was on display.
The slaves were lined up. All of them. And all the trainers were there. And some of the more senior house slaves. The girl who had done Nikki’s make-up before her date with Charles, the slaves who worked in the athletic facilities, the groomers, the wardrobe girls, the kitchen staff, everyone. It was quite a crowd.
Each of them had a role. Even with that many people, there was no chaos, no confusion. Just careful, organized, coordinated activity.
What was going on? It was obviously something very important. But nobody was communicating anything to the slaves. They were just being moved through, processed.
Was this it? Was it the auction, finally? Nikki wondered. Certainly it made sense… the slaves were being prepared for something, that was for sure. And it had been enough time since Mark had told her she was ready. She certainly felt ready, as ready as she was going to be.
Nikki breathed into it. Relaxed into the uncertainty of her status. It didn’t matter. If today was the auction, not the auction. She didn’t need to plan, didn’t need to take responsibility, didn’t need to do anything but relax and experience.
So she did.
Nikki breathed into it and felt herself as an object. Felt her status. Loved it.
She allowed all the activity and bustle to surround her, embrace her. And there was a lot of activity. She was washed, fed, her hair styled, her wax job touched up with tweezers (ouch!), her colon cleansed, her skin moisturized and polished, her face subtly made up. She was glamourized.
She felt the hands touching her. Probing and prodding. Moving her into position. And she allowed it to happen. Felt the ease and calm of it. Sure there was still a knot in the pit of her stomach. If this truly was auction day, then this was the day her fate would be determined.
Who would buy her? She tried to keep her mind off it, but she couldn’t keep from thinking about it.
Would it be Mark? Ohhhh! Thinking of that. Mark’s personal pet. Sleeping by the side of his bed. Helping him with his work (ohhh, how hard that would be, watching the new girls fall in love with him, watching his affection for them grow, and helping him to bond them to him…). But being with Mark all day, every day. Bringing him his food, washing him. Crawling into his bed every morning. Taking him into her body. How she wanted it.
Would it be Charles? He certainly wanted her. Be part of his household. Entertain his clients. Show off her worldliness and her skill. She could even help him with his work. She wasn’t his typical purchase, true enough. She was expensive, and he probably wouldn’t be able to flip her for a profit in a year or two, but she was sure he would know how to get value from her skills.
Would it be Sylvie? The island, the famous guests, the beautiful slaves. She let her mind wander to the lifestyle it represented. Mick Jagger? Contemporary artists? Authors, actors, leading thinkers, all taking refuge on Sylvie’s island. This was a place they could let down their guard and be themselves with the slaves as facilitators, tools, objects. The slaves there to be used, without fear of consequences, in any way the guests chose. Nikki felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. It was exciting, and scary at the same time.
Would it be the serbs? Nobody had talked about them as serious buyers. But what if…. Ohhh, the very idea frightened Nikki. To be purchased for hard use. Not her mind at all, but just her willingness to serve. No regard for her skills or abilities. Just another set of holes to be filled, another girl to serve them. She shuddered. Surely they wouldn’t want to pay as much as buyers who wanted her mind. Surely they could find a better deal with one of the younger girls. Nikki tried to push the possibility out of her mind.
Would it be somebody else? Somebody she had never even met. An Asian real estate speculator, a British aristocrat, an African warlord? A young speculator, an older established household? Would she end up as part of a household, at the bottom of the hierarchy, or as a senior slave helping to train younger girls? Would she be loved and treasured, or simply used. How long would it last? Would she be resold after?
The questions swirled in her head. She tried to relax into the feeling of having her hair brushed, her skin polished. But the excitement in the air was contagious. All of the slaves were realizing what was going on. There wasn’t any conversation – a few muttered commands, a couple of sharper corrections if the slaves weren’t paying attention. But mostly the trainers and house slaves went about their preparations unhampered.
As the clear polish on her fingernails and toenails was being touched up, Nikki realized that it was almost over. That everything that could be done to her had been done. That whatever was going to happen, was going to happen next.
She looked around and noticed that the senior trainers were leading slaves out of the preparation hall in small groups of 4-5, and then returning for more. Probably a third of the slaves were already gone.
Now her nails were done too. She was ready. She was moved over towards the side of the room with three other slaves. She recognized Tanuja, looking wonderful, her light brown skin glowing, her dark hair straight and long down her back. The two of them smiled at eachother. Nervous.
Finally the trainers were there. Not Mark, but one of the other senior trainers, attached a chain to Nikki’s collar. He gave her only about 18 inches of slack and pulled her towards the door. Nikki felt a rush of heat and wetness between her legs. Her nipples hardened. She felt a tingling feeling up her spine.
They walked through the door and the trainers led them through the corridors of the facility. Nikki heard her bare feet slapping against the marble floors and she was glad she was not being forced to crawl. They didn’t want to mark her knees, she supposed. They walked towards an area of the facility Nikki had never seen before. The farther they went the more the anticipation built.
Nikki was still not used to the strange mix of anticipation and lack of control. The idea of walking off into her fate. Having no idea what the result would be. Wow. It was powerful stuff.
She rounded another corner and suddenly the space opened up into a grand hall. Huge. Soaring ceilings. Like the Grand Palais in Paris. The sound of their footsteps was swallowed up in the vastness. It was awe inspiring.
And then Nikki saw what was happening. It was like an art exhibition. But the exhibition was human. Each of the slaves was mounted on a pedestal. Each one was mounted in a different position. A position tailored to his or her own individual characteristics.
Nikki saw one of the bigger male slaves mounted crouching, his shoulders up against a block of wood, his arms spread out, almost like he was being crucified. His thighs were straining, the muscles shaking. But somehow it made him look stronger and more masculine, impressive.
And at the base of each pedestal was a lectern, with a big binder – the dossier. Each of the potential buyers had been able to look at the dossiers on line, but here they were being displayed along with the actual slaves.
Ohhh…. A shudder ran down Nikki’s spine. The idea of “viewers”! Of course there would be viewers. Why not? That was standard auction procedure. There’d be a catalogue, but then there would also be a period of time where prospective buyers could review the merchandise. And she was merchandise.
But the idea of them reading the reports, the statistics about her body… how deep her vagina was, how much cock she could take in her mouth… and the reviews! What the serbs had written (translated into English of course), her cocksucking skills, her willness to please, Sylvie’s review of her service at the party… Ohhh! And Charles! There would be Charles’ report in there as well… her deepest darkest secrets, her shame.
She shuddered again. And what position would they put her in?
She didn’t have any more time to wonder about that. The trainer had led her over to a pedestal. In a pretty prominent place towards the center of the room. Her name was there, in 8 inch tall letters. Her dossier. And a number. Her auction number, she supposed.
The trainer unhooked the leash. Helped her to step up onto the pedestal. There was a metal frame, not really a cage, the bars were pretty far apart, but a frame that would enable them to attach her in whatever position they wished.
He tapped her on the arm. He didn’t need to say a word, she knew he wanted her to lift her arms over her head. And sure enough he attached her wrists to cuffs that were hanging down from the bars. Of course. They would want her hands over her head. It lifted her full breasts, made them rounder, more appealing. Also helped stretch her whole body, lifting her stomach and showing off her thighs to advantage.
He spread her legs slightly. Positioned them just as he wanted them and then attached ankle cuffs to two of the side bars at just the right distance. Nikki looked down. The floor of the pedestal was mirrored. Anybody looking down could look right up her cunt. See her glistening with arousal. Very clever.
Then he attached a posture collar. It was a tall collar that extended up the back of her neck, with a little rest for her chin. She couldn’t lower her head. It very effectively extended her spine. The combination of her arms above her head and the collar made her stand very very straight. Somebody had thought about this for a while and had devised the very best way to display her. Very clever.
She could still see around the room. Could see the other slaves. The girl next to her was on her hands and knees, her head lifted by a chin rest. The boy on the other side was standing with his legs spread wide and his arms spread too, displaying his beautiful abdominal muscles.
The trainer was just about finished attaching her. He stepped down from the pedestal. Reached up and twisted her right nipple, and then the left. He hardly had to do that, they were already incredibly erect. Finally he gave her a little “tap tap” on the ass – kind of like “I'm done here” and moved away.
Nikki was on display.
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