Selling Jean 3 free porn video

312 Selling Jean (3)
Time was running out, she was very aware of that there were days not weeks on the ticking bomb of the sharks threats. They were still just under $8000 dollars short, having pawned the last of Robs grandmothers legacy of jewellery. She talked it over with Janice and Rob and very rapidly came to the conclusion that she had to be auctioned, and in this week`s auction too! Janice saying it was a weekly affair, and on Jean`s request making a call to someone she called “tits!”
Reluctantly her name was entered, for the auction by telephone on the following Monday night, before she entered Jean`s name Janice assuring ‘tits’ that Jean would be ready, and available and knew the score, then saying, ‘yes sir’, about five or six times, interspersed with ‘I understand,’ and ‘I know that`s.’ The whole time being most respectful throughout the conversation.
She returned from the telephone in the hall, to the kitchen where they had sat silently listening to Janice`s side of the conversation throughout, saying “your booked in, and I`ve been instructed to explain what happens, and the dress code, etc.
She explained to a pale Jean, the whole procedure, in very precise terms, which even turned Rob pale, it being so clinical.
Janice said “big al” had sold her at this auction once, when he was ‘a bit short’ she had been shaved from the neck down, dressed in a basque, and a thin dress, which as the usher displayed her had been cut off her body, (so don’t expect it to come home in it, best carry a track suit, or at least I will, as I am your registered escort!” she paused, then added, “’Tits’, approved me for the job, which meant he wanted in reality to screw me while we are waiting, the little shit!” she looked distant probably wondering how she would tell “big al.”
“I am to present you at 4pm, you will go under the hammer at seven, and I will collect you at seven on Tuesday, to fetch you home, they pay for the transport, as I guarantee you won`t be wanting to walk anywhere!” Jean shuddered, and she carried on to explain that “ ‘they’ will use one of the dungeons where we were last time, there`s three of them down there, they will supply water, but no food, and I have to ensure your bowels are empty, and that you have not eaten for three hours before your presented, to prevent you throwing up or whatever, with nerves, oh and you`re not to have taken any d**gs either, they need you to feel everything! Your to be dressed, clean, tidy, and wearing a security collar and wrist cuffs which will be clipped to the collar, with a clear label giving your lot number in black. When I hand you over” She paused, then said “there will be two of you, for auction the other girl will sadly be wearing a red label,” she didn’t enlighten them more, but they got from look on her face the fact red labels were very bad news.
She in a near whisper said that “she and Tits will no doubt be able to see what`s happening to you, and the other girl on the monitor`s, it turns him on big time, as they film it all, and you get a free copy afterwards, they say to remind you of the ‘fun!’ you have had, most girls sell them to porn companies probably to forget, but it raises enough from it for a few fixes!”
Jean excused herself to the toilet, and Rob asked if Janice still ‘had her film,’ she smiled and nodded, asking why, he said he wanted to understand, and she said on Monday she would “let him see it if he was keen, but not before Monday, as Jean didn’t need it upsetting her more, and he could watch it while they were gone!”
Jean reappeared, and Janice soon left no doubt to go talk to “big al” and beg time off on Monday and Tuesday.
Rob was soon off to work, his wife now alone spent another sleepless night tossing and turning with thoughts of what was to come.
Rob returned from a long night and after a meal tried to persuade her to drop the whole idea, and together they would make a run for it, start again somewhere else, but she said, “it would be unfair on Janice, who had given her word she would be there, and no doubt would be placed in mortal danger if they didn’t show up” he suggested that they took her with them then, but she said “if Janice can`t shake big al on her own they would live forever in fear, and that would be awful!”.
Realising her mind was made up and he was not going to win, they made love, silent but passionate and intense, exhaustion taking them both to sleep most of the day again he worked she fretted, sleeping fitfully, he returned as usual tired, they again made love, then slept entwined, her till mid-morning him till midday.
The day being Sunday the streets quiet outside, and the mood indoors being one of dread and expectation,
She had, by the time he awoke, cleaned the house, put clean bedclothes on the spare bed, saying she “may need to use it to recuperate,” laid out on it an old but tidy summer frock, flat court shoes and a red basque, put a supply of pain killers, and clean towels, dressings, antiseptic creams and the like, in the side locker, and generally readied the room to accept a patient, which clinically she mentally accepted that she would soon be.
They bathed, and ate, Jean having little appetite, watched television in a ‘let`s pass the hours together by pretending to be interested in the program, so we don’t have to talk sort of way,’ Time passed slowly, at two Janice appeared, a bruised cheek said that “big al” had not been pleased at her request for time off. Quietly the women went about their tasks, Janice shaving Jean carefully, ensuring she had toileted herself, then helping her dress, it was all very clinical, Jean kissed Rob goodbye, he being close to tears as the women left, they walking steadily through the park, full of normality, k**s with divorced dads feeding the ducks, couples arm in arm, walking, women with prams, it was surreal, the usually bustling red light area, when they got to it was quiet, Sunday afternoon its only lull in trade, and arriving at the now familiar side door in the alley seemed like entering the pearly gates, just as the memorial clock struck four in a most, creepy welcome to hell style of greeting.
On shaky legs she descended the stairs, hanging on her friends arm and she knew they had arrived…
The sat in silence in the changing room waiting, moments passed, and a thin bearded man appeared, introducing himself as ‘tits’ he shook her hand nodding with approval at her dress, and looks, grinning at Janice, clutching at the track suit she was unwrapping from the carrier bag and hanging up on a peg.
He handed her the collar and cuffs, saying “no need for that till I call you, and here`s the number”, a small but clear sign said lot 4, her questioning eyes were answered by him explaining that “on Mondays they auctioned a few women, but some would be taken away, some as she was, would be used here, and some, the red lots, would never leave, it was the way things happened here!” he wheeled round and hearing movement out on the stairs went off to meet and greet whoever it was, leaving Jean stunned and very quiet.
They were soon joined by a sandy haired woman, with her husband, and a black girl, younger and tidy looking, with her pimp a hard looking black, with a glittering array of gold capped teeth.
Both women looked apprehensive as did the final arrival a rather stunning hard-faced blonde of about 40, a tattoo of a dragon on her left arm and large rings in her nipples under the thin dress, though even she looked apprehensive, and was leant on the arm of a much younger man.
They sat in silence, each appraising the others, like a dentists waiting room each wondering who would have the dreaded red lot numbers.
Time passed, the sound of feet on the stairs, muffled greetings, ‘tits’ voice ushering folk into some other room, a door clattering, time stood still.
‘Tits’ reappeared, warily greeting the pimp as “Tony” issuing collars, and lot numbers face down to the escorts, suggesting toileting may be appropriate, pointing out the toilet door unnoticed till then to one side, then bustling away to greet still more footfalls on the stairs, leaving the victims with the escorts to do his bidding. Jean was soon up and using the toilet, not knowing how long she had sat, her legs stiff. Once returned Janice attached her collar silently and gently raising each hand to secur each wrist with care, Jean glad of her friends gentle touch, and silent support before adding her lot number. The other women where using the toilet, or being secured, though it was not registering with Jean`s brain at that moment, each in her basque covered by a pretty but expendable frock, each quiet and pensive.
When she did look around the blonde was in the toilet, and the sandy one sat with lot 1 hung round her neck, the black girl tearful and quivering had a red lot number, a three, the black pimp telling her loudly, to “shut up bitch, you had caused it yourself, no one cheats on Tony!” the blonde returned, and the tearful black girl sat once more sobbing quietly.
Tits came back quietly saying, that they were ready for lot 1, but before leading her away explaining to her and the blonde that they should understand they were being sold for the week, release would be here on Sunday morning next, and they would be going to undisclosed placings elsewhere, carers would be paid and advised of the return times. With that he took the arm of the sandy woman and swept out. They heard a faint cheer, then the door closing. Silence descended, then more cheering, finally the door crashing open, and the sound of feet on the stairs, the hubbub of chat, ‘tits’ appearing, pressing a package into the husbands hand saying she raised $19000, your free to leave, but collect her Sunday at one sharp. The husband smiled then scuttled away, as ‘tits’ with the blonde, set off to the other room.
More or less the same scenario took place, doors applause, applause, then the door crashing open feet on the stairs, and tit`s reappearing, package in hand, saying to the youngster, “your mum says, if you spend a cent of the cash, your dead meat, she raised $22000, it`s here and you can go now. The lad with a grin shot up from his seat, took the package, and with ‘tits’ shouting after him “eight am on Sunday and don’t be late” he set off up the stairs.
The coloured girl looked pensive, as he turned and took her by the elbow, nodding to Tony who smiled and said “bye-bye, bitch!” as she was swept away.
By now Jeans butterflies were birds, her nerves strung to a tight wire-like tension. The big pimp turned shrugged and said that “the bitch had kept his money, this way he would get paid!” they did not answer him.
A cheer next door told of the sale,
A door clattered, then after a second, ‘tits’ reappeared package in hand, pushing it into the hand of the pimp, who by now was standing waiting to leave. $45,000 she raised, minus the disposal fee, $40,000. Grinning the giant was off up the stars like a bullet,
Tits saying as he shook his head, that “she was a pretty little thing and it was waste of a pretty girl, but the folk next door were keen on making those sort of films, so she would be remembered even if it took a day or two for her end! He turned to Janice, “I`ll be back for you soon, let`s hope your friend raises the cash she needs…” he turned to Jean, “ready,” it was a question that mattered not what she said now, and really didn’t warrant an answer, as before she could say goodbye or see you soon, she was steered out of the changing room and into the green door opposite the door crashed familiarly closed, the assembled group of perhaps a dozen men all cheered as ‘Tits’ led her to the podium at the far end of the room, raising his hands for silence as he had her twirl for the men. He then began his spiel, announcing her as “lot4 a lady of ample proportions, for use over the next 24 hours, here in room 1 in any way the buyer feels appropriate, the resulting film to be copied for her personal use for reminiscent purposes, and the property of the buyer whoever he may be, to dispose of as he feels fit.”
“Now gentlemen perhaps you would like a closer look at the goods…” with that he produced a knife and ran it down the laces of the basque. The red item fell away, a dozen pairs of eyes fell on her body, and ‘Tit`s’ grinning, began to take bids, jollying the bidders along with comments about her body, hefting a breast in his hand and crying “look at the soft whip-ability of these”, then turning her to allow her arse to be perused saying “it needed the cane if ever an arse did!” He held her with her back to the buyers, so far just a sea of faces
Bids began fairly low $5000, 6, 7,
7½, 8, 8½ her eyes down cast, until she heard the magic 9, 9½, she knew the shark would be paid, her home was safe, Rob was safe, and they would have a nest egg if she could survive the next 24 hours… nothing much mattered now, the last bid was a sudden jump up to $15,000 dollars, once, twice, the hammer crashed down, ”SOLD!”. Tits collected the money, and she was led from the hall and pushed through the crowd out into the hallway, then in a whirl down the corridor into a blue door that led to the dungeon she had suffered in before.
‘Tits’ attached the collar to the lift in the centre, flicked her nipples, smiled then whispered “enjoy!” as he left her incapable of movement, he with the bulging money package in hand, off to collect Janice.
She stood for what seemed like a long time, before she heard the door open, till then not having been facing the crowd when the hammer fell, she had few ideas of the identity of her buyer!
The lights went up a notch, and still with her head held back, unable to see the door,
A soft menacing voice quietly said, “hallow Jean!” she instantly recognised it as her ex-boss, Dixie Dean who when she had left his employ, she had told to “go fuck himself!” his grasping old fingers having groped her backside once too often.
He lived in the row of homes near the park, she knew that, she had seen him watching her a few times as she walked or jogged most days. She knew he wanted her, perhaps hated her, and knew she would suffer for telling him that last day what to do to and with himself. He owned her now, for 24 long hours he was her master, to do with her body whatever he would, short of maiming her or murdering her she was his plaything…
She heard the camera begin its quietly whirling as it began collecting the images of her still secure body and no doubt would do so of her pain and suffering from here on in…
His voice sent shivers down her spine, telling her how he had “dreamed of this day coming, how he had wanted her, lusted after her, wanted her when she had worked for him, even hated her when she had left, now was his time, 24 long hours”, he hissed, to have you, to enjoy you, to take my revenge, to humiliate you, and to make love to you.
She hissed back defiantly, that “he should do his worse, screw her if he wished, he owned her today, but she was not going to ‘make- love, to him, ever, it would be a screw, a fuck, a business venture, a sale, or a transaction, but make love, not a chance, never.” He laughed, muttered “we shall see my fine beauty” then laying his hand on her back with a light touch like a butterfly, he slid his boney fingers down her spine, which caused her whole-body to shudder and her skin to crawl.
The place fell silent, Dixie retreating to sit in the chair she had been secured in on her last visit, his eyes never leaving her secured body, as he watched her stand knowing he was going to use her, hurt her and humiliate her.
After a while he stood, collected a whip from the cupboard, and began to lightly use it to warm her skin, light almost lovingly tender strokes, slowly covering any exposed skin, on hips back shoulders legs, and breasts, each just a touch harder than its previous partner, at first caressing, then more warming, and later stinging as each struck time after time, rendering her skin a tender, tingling, mass of tiny pink lines where the multiple thongs had met the pink surface. She lost count in the 50``s, his arm never easing or tiring, swish slap, swish slap, the strokes falling regularly, like a clocks tick, she began to feel warm and tender, her whole body tingling now, receptive to any touch, light or hard, she knew he was working up to some stronger medicine, swish slap, swish slap, would he never stop, suddenly the light strokes ceased,
Her regular breathing now harder, his hardly having increased. He went to the cupboard once more, her head still back she sensed rather than saw his movements, felt his fingers on her nipples, squeezing her nubs between fingers and thumbs, the forceful grip squeezing the blood from the left teat, then small metal jaws taking over, his fingers nimbly tightening the clamp till it was holding the pink nub flat, now came the same treatment for its neighbour, alternate twists of the screw-head had her groaning, then moaning as the tiny teeth squeezed the blood from the rubbery nubs with increasing force, each becoming a tiny point of agony, his eyes never leaving her breasts as she stood on flat bare feet on the cold corrugated flooring, her mind wondering when the shoes had come adrift, trying desperately to keep her thoughts from these twin points of pain biting into either nipple, by thinking of rational common place things, in her life outside this charnel house of pain. She thought of the girl, black pretty, and with no earthly hope of survival, she must be in another room somewhere down here , being slowly used, and… to death…she shuddered, returning to these twin-points of red hot pain, she realised he was lowering her to release her, he uncoupled the lift, at last she could see his face, smiling, leering, eyes like coal, searching for signs of her pain and discomfort, of submission, she would show him, it would take more than nipple clamps…
His mind was hoping it would not see a hint of submission, he wanted her to resist, wanted her to take more, and even more of the pain he had planned.
In the control room Janice and ‘tits,’ now over their first bout of sex, watched the pair on the monitor, from the old couch, Jean, holding out well against the obvious pain of the clamps, the girl on the other monitor, hung by her wrists, enduring pain of unbelievable depth, her head flung back in abject agony, her right breast cut-open and torn, her executioner warming to his task, as her screams echoed round the room, her high pitched screams begging him “too have mercy,” and “to finish her if he must,” and to “for god`s sake let me die and be out of this misery,” ‘Tits’ unable to help her, turning down the speaker volume, unable to concentrate on “big Al`s’ whore’ whose eyes flicked from screen to screen, fascinated, remembering her own ordeal in here and knowing she like ‘tits was powerless to stop the black girls agony or demise.
She blocked it all out, concentrating her efforts on her client, knowing he had long wanted her body, anything to keep her mind from the screens and screams she knew would go on for some hours yet.
Dixie and Jean had progressed to a single tail whip, the tail of which seemed to wrap itself around the pale but solid body with a crack like doom and in an almost soft embrace that left a thin welt each time, livid and red. He was obviously an expert with these leather thongs, the skin being marked but never broken. He changed her position gave her sips of water, so as not to allow dehydration, knowing she could not sing her song of pain, on a dry throat, she hung now her arms attached to a spreader bar above her head, held up by the lift, her toes barely in contact with the floor, the collar and cuffs still in place but separated now, allowing him free access to her breasts and trunk with the leather, the clamps still fast on the now numb nipples, her body changing from its original healthy pink hue to a road map of thin red welts, growing more congested as each lash struck, as each scream echoed round the chamber.
He ceased as fast and unexpectedly as he had begun, smiling as he undid the nipple clamps, blood flowing back causing even more pain, and a long drawn out moan from his victim.
He kissed her, first on both tingling nipples, then on her lips, she defiantly refused to return the kiss, though she was beginning to feel fatigued, and knew the next 24 hours was going to be a long, long lifetime!
He shrugged then fetched a leather paddle, it smacked on her rump with a satisfying slap, warming and reddening her seat, the sound of its striking skin, over and over, clearly echoing in the room, her quivering cry of torment instantly and automatically following each sound, his smile brief, but regular following her cry, knowing he was slowly succeeding in breaking her resistance. Time and again that leather struck her backside, now warm to the touch and bruising her cheeks more with every stroke landed. Tears fell, her head back, uselessly crying out to the ceiling, begging and willing him to cease this merciless pounding of her now tenderised skin. Her bladder released itself, to her abject humiliation.
Laughing he asked her if she would prefer screwing, was she ready to have ‘a fill’ from what he referred to as ‘the Dixie pump?’ reluctantly she nodded, anything to stop this persistent throbbing discomfort, if only for a while, she knew he had won a small victory, she was doing his will, allowing herself to comply with his wishes, his needs. He released her, had her lay on the couch, on her back, her bruised rump glad of the cool leather. She waited as he got out the thick but to her surprise, only average length, circumcised penis. then with a broad smile he simply clambered up, and penetrated her in the missionary position, deep and hard, no foreplay, no caress, no petting, and no finesse, just in and batter away like some sort of machine. She cried out with the unemotional battering, her body receiving his, with grunts of discomfort at every rough stroke. He filled her just as she had begun come towards a climax, he pulled out, leaving her frustrated, and bemused as he helped her back to her feet, and unemotionally clipped her wrists back into the spreader bar. Lifting her to tip toe once more without comment, then taking the strap back to the cupboard. He returned with a wooden tray such as an usherette would use, placing the support strap round her neck and then lifting her breasts onto the surface came as a surprise, She, by now expecting a block of wood with hammer and nails to appear, mentally braced herself for more nailing, his eyes not leaving hers as he completed the task, she, intrigued to see him reappear with a black riding crop. He stood at an angle to her, fixed her with a beady eye and without breaking eye contact, brought the crop smartly down onto the nipple of the right breast. A single stripe of fire ran through her, as it did for the second and third stroke each delivered with force and in roughly the same area, though she had expected him to spread the cuts of the stiff crop to both breasts. By now she was shrieking as each stroke fell, her once numb nipple now a point of serious pain.
Her small adversary struck again, once twice, by the third she was screaming, and no scream for effect this, a full blooded, hearty scream of pain that stirred the couple in the throws, of yet another screw in the control room, to stop for a second and watch the monitor, ‘Tits’ remarking “that hurt” then returning to filling Janice with renewed vigour.
Jean however was tearful, and sobbing uncontrolledly, hardly able to take in what Dixie was telling her, which was that “when she willingly would make love to him, she must be willing to sleep with him occasionally as well, in a vanilla and loving style now and again!” Then, “next door was a bed, and he would take her to it and have her which-ever way she wished till breakfast, but it was her decision, alternately she could have more of this, much, much more!” with that he turned his attention to the left nipple, swat, swat, swat, three livid marks appeared, and his eyebrows raised as if to say- Well?
Her tears fell heavily, her teeth gritted, as she shook her head, determined not to give in to this loathsome little ex-employer, who was being so cruel. But the next two strokes made up her mind, swat, swat, her nipple`s a sea of pain she screamed once more, forcing ‘Tits’ to hit the mute button, and Dixie to grin believing she would soon crack.
He returned to that dreaded cupboard, leaving her to contemplate the welts and the serious pain throbbing through those pendulous 42dds breasts, laying like targets on the heavy tray, begging him to deal with them however he felt the need. Her alternative to sleep with him, love him even, now and whenever he wished, she knowing she would never go back on her word, it was to be avoided at all costs, but could she resist, could her painful body keep up its resolve?
He returned with a long leather strap, this he, showed her in detail, studs in the leather spelt WHORE backwards she knew it would leave marks, deep and long lasting, it was designed to do just that… and she was right, just one hard cut of the fearsome implement across her naked belly, and the word printed itself 3” high imprinted in purple dots, where each stud had hit. She knew it was over, screaming at him that she would love him any way he wanted once a month for the rest of their lives, if he would stop.
Hanging on her wrists, limp sobbing and broken she cried, long and hard.
His grin was as wide as the local river, he lowered her, released her and let her drink from the water bottle, then he helped her back into the corridor, and into another room, this one furnished lavishly, an oak sideboard, a fourposter, bedside lamps, tapestries, and a giant oil painting of a naked woman to complete the illusion.
He helped her to the bed, allowing her time to adjust, removing his clothing from his scrawny frame, he presented a thin but bony body, muscled but with bones, clearly visible under the thin skin.
Her mind as she lay, her body throbbing, told her this was her one chance or she would regret it for the rest of her life, she decided to fuck the scrawny bastard to death, she was at a disadvantage in that she was aching and tired before she started, but the little bastard was a scrawny little runt, and she was now free and had more flesh on her legs than he had on his whole body. She was now a determined woman, She, Formulated, a plan and Mr Dixie Dean was about to learn that you can`t build love with a whip! She smiled deceptively, put out welcoming arms drew him to her and began to woo a man she had disliked for many years. He was completely captivated, enfolded in her spell, believing he had won… they kissed passionately, she moved round, took the fat tool into her mouth and began one of the best blow jobs Dixie had ever enjoyed, it lasted just ten minutes, before he came like a man on a mission!
Jean swallowed the seed, and her mental clock counted ‘one’, she without a pause began again this time a hand job, he was not happy that she had not let him rest, but the feelings coursing through his body led him on to spit his venom once more, this time up her up her wrist and arm. She kissed him again his face a rosy pink, his body gasping for air and his mind in need of a short rest, but her mouth was back sucking his softening tool, giving it no respite.
By now he was flat on his back she straddled him easing the re-stiffened tool to slip into her ample body, kissing him to stifle his protests, then begins the age old dance of her hips, her wet sex gripping the little man`s tool like it had a mind of its own, sucking it into her body and milking the thing in the velvety touch only a woman`s exited sex can deliver! The dance went on until it spat again, a few moments later a smaller amount of fluid filled her for the third time in thirty minutes, he could not remember the last time this had happened, she was a fantastic lover, more exciting than he in his wildest dreams could ever have imagined, and he was going to have her every month from now on, but he oh so desperately needed some rest, just a little time to recuperate!
Mentally she counted ‘three’, then again raised herself swivelled and sitting her ample and marked backside on his chest, her back towering above the little man, his view now restricted so much he could count the roadmap of welts he had enjoyed inflicting on her body but nothing else. Her heels tight to his chest, legs warm and comforting alongside his trunk, he relaxed, figuring his tongue could do the work this time. That he could bring her off, and he could regain some energy.
He called her to “back up a little as my tongue can`t reach your lovely wet cunt my sweet,” it was a grave mistake and the last thing our hero ever said to anyone.
She smiled as she eased herself backwards till they were fully in the 69, position, her 170lb weight holding his lighter body pinned to the soft mattress, her wet virgina firmly covering his face, his nose and mouth jamming it into her wet and velvety folds,
Too late he realised what she had planned for him. His air supply gone, his arms began flailing, desperate to breath now his face wriggling in the big wet folds, his thin features engulfed, his wriggling sending her over the top in a climax of epic proportions, her wet ejaculation adding to his desperation, it was soon over.
In the control room ‘tits’ and his new lover, Janice were oblivious of the drama being played out before them if they had not been gazing deep into one another`s eyes, and watching the monitor Dixie, may have survived. But both were now deeply in love, they had no eyes for monitors, the black girl in the dungeon next door had ceased to scream now, having passed from this world to a more peaceful place, her tormenter packing up his tools.
It was some time later, when the taxi dropped them at home, Jean clutching the promised film, the body squad having collected not one but two bodies, quietly removing them, without comment, they had walked this path before, Tits saying when he found out that “it was just one of those things, accident’s will happen!” Janice fetching her, hardly able to walk, up to the taxi, and they had arrived home exhausted but jubilant.
Janice handed over the package of cash, Rob counting it out eagerly, saying he was so proud of her, and now they could pay off that shark, Jean out of interest asking who the shark was. His reply had the women hugging and laughing, as Rob said “why, you all know him, it`s that little runt you worked for, that Dixie Dean, don`t you remember him?”