Kittens Unlikely Allies part 2
- 1 year ago
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She had waited for this moment for as long as she could remember, so her fear ? though natural ? still came as a surprise. She was glad she was naked ? at least she could pass off the shivering as a reaction to cold. And the thought of the crowd about to appraise her made her nipples harden in anticipation, making the illusion complete.
The crowd?
She remembered reading of Roman circuses. Tens of thousands of people cheering, laughing, as slaves were torn apart by wild beast. She had sometimes imagined herself as a slave then ? used for gratification, beaten for pleasure ? and the orgies she would have seen after the circuses. The nobles, aroused by the violence, fucking each other and raping slaves to satiate their lust.
A cry from the stage snapped her back to the present. The girl before her had just been auctioned, and her new owner had stepped forward. He was well known for the ?art? he made out of parts of slaves, and the girl had a day or two to live, at most.
This was it. She was next. She stood still, awaiting the call? everything coming into sharp focus. The murmer of the crowd. The heat from the dozens of bodies packed into such a small area. The bump and jostle of a hip or breast from the women around her, herded together like cows in a chute.
She had once been owned by a Master with a ?cow? fetish. He had bought her a pump, fed her pills, made her lactate. He sometimes treated her as livestock, but at other times was gentle and warm. She was young then, wanting to experiment more, and asked to be released.
Fingers tightening in her hair. Lost in the memory, she imagined Him pulling her to ? No. This was the auction. She was being pulled roughly on stage. She stubbed almost all her toes on the short staircase, rushing to keep up with the handler yanking her onto the dias. The crowd chuckled as she stumbled, as much at her awkwardness as at her predicament.
Many girls followed the path, from slap and tickle to D/s experimentation, to hard core slavery. What started as voluntary sexual exploration became such an intrinsic lifestyle that they couldn?t imagine themselves ?free?. Not serving their Master? Not being told what good slaves they are? Not humiliated and commanded? What ?freedom? was that?
And so here she stood, before a mixed crowd that had one thing in common: The passion, desire, and resources to buy human female flesh. Some of them would keep their slaves as pets or livestock, others as sexual playthings and punching bags, still others as? meat.
Her shoulders ached as she stood in the spotlight, but she remembered to thrust them back, prominently displaying her breasts. Her wrists, shackled together, were chaffed and raw. Her feet ? especially her freshly bruised toes ? were killing her.
The silhouette of the crowd rippled as paddles were raised in silent bidding. She couldn?t see the display behind her, so was oblivious to how much her flesh was going for, but a part of her wanted it to be the largest sum of the evening ? a girl has her pride, after all. Then a voice in her head: Only the cruelest of Masters spend so lavishly, because they rarely find regular subs willing to perform those services for them. Are you ready to die?
Hands around her throat. His powerful frame almost invisible in the darkness, but its presence undeniable. There were times when his thick cock was painful to service, but she did her best? now, with her impending death, His cock had swollen to new proportions that threatened to split her open. ?Are you ready to die?? His husky voice intoned in the dark. She knew he enjoyed the thought of slaves as meat, but never imagined it would come to this. His iron grip was unrelenting, his thrusting growing harder and harder. In previous play, she?d tap and he?d release her. But tonight was different. Tonight he?d told her he was going to snuff her during sex, then roast parts of her for an exotic meal. She?d been terrified, and started to cry.
The auctioneer?s excitement was obvious ? bidding had passed the previous high mark and continued to rise. It was down to two bidders now ? both seemingly willing to pay any price. Blinded by the spotlight, she had no idea who they were ? but knew this was the sort of club where people honoured their bids. Deadbeats and wannabes went home in a cardboard box. Or two.
She was as proud as a slave would allow herself. Many of the other girls were far younger, some still teenagers, but her body had aged well. She was still curvaceous and tempting, and knew what effect her posing had on men. Even Doms with otherwise impeccable self control.
It felt strange not having anything around her throat. He?d removed her physical collar at the start of the session ? she knew without question that He owned her, so the actual collar was cosmetic ? and now his hands were gone from her throat as well.
He was spooning her, those same strong hands now petting her hair as he held her to him. It had all been a mindfuck, she realized. An extremely pleasurable one, in retrospect. She had asked to be broken that night. Begged for it. She?d wanted to be used, nothing more than an object. Meat. But in lieu of the expected beating, He had gone inside her mind and conjured images and reactions far more intense than flogging or slapping would have caused. Not meat to be pummeled, but meat to be cooked. She realized only now that her hands hadn?t been restrained. He?d placed them, crossed-wrists, above her head and told her they were bound. That had been enough to convince her. Free to defend herself, she realized, there had never been any real danger.
He had held her for close to an hour, making her feel safe. Soon after, they fell in love.
It was over. With a crisp bang of the gavel she?d been sold, and was lead off the stage. Her feet were killing her and her shoulders screamed in silent agony as she stood in the receiving pit, awaiting her new Owner. She couldn?t think of Him as Master. Not yet, and perhaps never. But He did buy her, and she was now His, so Owner would do.
The crowd moved as one organism, parting to allow her Owner through. The man accepted her papers from the auction official, and wound her leash in one calloused hand. ?Come?, he tugged at her leash. Ugh. One of those. Reinforcing every command, secretly unsure of compliance. These were the sort that often used submission as a way to abuse girls, not for mutual pleasure. She felt her stubbornness rising. You may have bought me, she thought, but you might not earn me.
Her newfound independence made it all the more shocking when she was shoved in the empty back of a cargo van. The wall between her and the only two seats was almost solid, save for a small window between driver and passenger. She could hear them talking amongst themselves as they drove. She dared not approach the window ? her only source of light in the otherwise solid cargo area ? not only did she not want to risk punishment, but the man was driving as though he?d forgotten there was a naked girl with no seat or seatbelt being tumbled around in back like a shoe in a dryer. She?d found a corner to wedge herself in, and wedged she would try to stay for the rest of the ride.
She hugged her knees to her chest. Her breasts had swelled in her teens, and jiggling could be the wrong kind of painful. Not as firm as in her prime, they now required even more support now. But they were still beautiful.
In any event there was no need to peer through the small window. It was too dark to see anything but the bits of road illuminated by the streetlamps, and she could hear every word. The driver and passenger spoke of the ?delivery?. It was certain, then. She was to be given or resold to yet another. The dehumanization, exactly the reason she?d entered the contest, thrilled and terrified her at the same time.
She now realized why He kept storming into her memories. There had been other men before him, and many more since. Some were mere boys, figuratively and literally. Awkward fumblings on basement couches or in cars. Sometimes the sex had been fantastic, other times masturbation would have done more for her. But she enjoyed the contact. Eager hands, lips, cocks? Others had been unrelenting in their cruelty, sometimes ignoring the ?yellow? safeword and stopping only at ?red?, when her back was split and raw from flogging or her organs bruised by fists. Some didn?t stop at all, and she?d run away shortly thereafter. Some had been good Masters. Sometimes hard, sometimes gentle. She?d loved them, too. But eventually she felt that same need to go explore, not yet fulfilled.
But He? He was back. In her mind. In her heart. Why now? Because he?d once whispered this very scenario to her in the dark. As she lay on the bed, spread for him, his hands had wandered over her flesh? His property? as he described her up on that stage. He painted a picture of it so vivid, so real, she could see herself being auctioned; could feel the hot breath of the other women on the nape of her neck as she awaited her turn. The grizzled messenger buying her, bringing her to Him. His fingers had worked inside her, curving to touch her in that way of His, the other hand pressing gently on her lower belly. She?d cum, the first time a man?s fingers had granted her that release.
Her heart soared with the memory of that fantasy. Had he seen the future? No. He was a storyteller, adept at spinning tales amusing, horrific, or passionate as required. In fact He made His living at it as an accomplished writer. He?d even written a story about her after they?d parted; one that she was unsure how to react to. He had seemed so willing to let her go, to give her the freedom she needed. Was it a sign of some obsession? Or a tribute? She?d realized it was the latter. He was among the few who realized that loving someone sometimes means letting them go. Where others had demanded ? or begged ? that she stay, He had released her whenever she asked.
She imagined herself being brought to Him now, as in that almost-forgotten fantasy. Arriving at her new residence and seeing those eyes greeting her, that familiar mischievous smile, that intoxicating? musk. Don?t get your hopes up, the familiar voice of cynicism in her head reminded her. It was just a story. He was just one master.? One she remembered fondly, but hadn?t seen or spoken to in years.
They had kept in touch for a long time after. Friends with benefits. Sometimes she?d donned her old collar at His request, happy and eager to do so. But he?d always let her go when the wanderlust came over her. The ring He?d given her to wear between sessions wasn?t a collar, but she wore it often to remember the respect between them and the safety and comfort He continued to offer. She?d sought his counsel when she needed advice, and always trusted His word.
But then she?d met a Master who excited her. This new one, realizing the meaning of the ring, had ordered her to take it off. She complied, wanting to please Him and feeling very much in love. The one who gave it to her no longer owned her, after all ? she had a new Master now, and emotions were running strong.
But when He ordered her to get rid of it, she secretly disobeyed. She hid it away, not knowing why.
Eventually it hit her; He was threatened by her past, that which made her what she was and what she offered Him. Why? She served Him well and had given Him her heart. The thought troubled her. ?A crack in her trust rippled through.
A few weeks later, she felt the need to move on. He?d cried and begged. Those familiar words she?d heard so often before, from so many mouths. I need you. I can?t live without you. Blah.
The van abruptly halted, smacking her against the bulkhead. She waited for the rear door to open? waited? waited? Idiot, the voice chided. They?re having a break, and you don?t matter to them. You?re just a delivery. Here you sit until they?re ready for you.
Typical. Just as she?d resigned herself to being in the van that was her cell, the door opened. ?Come?, the messenger barked. She placed the handloop of the leash in her mouth and quickly scampered out of the van. He took the leash and led her towards the house, his companion walking ahead and unlocking the sturdy door.
It yawned open, the enormous maw suiting the opulent house. She knew any man who could afford to pay such a sum for a disposable woman would be wealthy, and the house was suitably opulent. Not overly large like the pretentious mansions of the upper middle class, those living large paycheque to large paycheque barely a step ahead of their bills in an effort to impress the neighbours, but tastefully showing the owners affluence.
She was lead to a room, not a word spoken. The messenger grunted a command: it sounded enough like ?stay? for her to get the meaning, and beetled out of the room.
Naked, vulnerable, and not knowing her fate she stealthily glanced around. The sparse room had a fantastic view out its floor-to-ceiling windows, moonlight pouring in and making artificial illumination almost gauche by comparison. She was glad the lights were off. Had they been on, even with the house so high up the hillside, neighbors could easily see her in all her nude splendor. Vanilla neighbors who wouldn?t understand.
The waiting was the worst of it.
High heels clacked on the hardwood. A woman ? uncollared and Amazonian ? circled into her field of view. A magnificent specimen by any standard, the new arrival appraised her with icy efficiency.
?So you?re the new one, eh??
She was about to say ?Yes, Mistress? when a stinging slap silenced her opened mouth.
?Bitch!?
What had she done wrong? Or was this her new purpose ? to be beaten and abused by a woman. She stood, eyes downcast, wrists at the small of her back, and awaited the beating.
?Petra, stop that? The gruff tones of the Messenger halted the second blow before it could land. ?Just do your bit and get out.?
Petra leaned in, glaring at her. Their breasts almost touched. The powerfully built woman?s arm snaked behind the slave?s back, seizing her wrist and pulling her hand out in front. ?I?m supposed to give you this?, she hissed through clenched teeth.
She felt something pressed into her hand, her fingers pushed closed over it., clenching it tightly. ?I don?t know why. He won?t let you wear it. He never lets us wear it. God knows what it?s for.?
Petra stormed out, the clacking of her heels fading behind other sounds. A door closing. An engine starting. A van ? the van ? backing out of the driveway. Gone.
It was hard, flat, and felt like metal but she dared not move to examine it. Her new Mistress or Master could enter at any moment, and she wanted to be properly posed.
Soft footsteps behind her grew closer? closer? warm breath caressed her neck. Despite herself she tensed, awaiting the end.
?Well, look at it.?
So grateful for the permission to see what she was holding, she barely heard the speaker. She opened her hand and held it up, taking in the adonized metal of the tag in the moonlight. Her fingers played over the engraved letters, a familiar sight.
She turned to see Him. Those eyes, those protective arms?
?Welcome, pussikat.?
She was safe. She was home.
She had waited for this moment for as long as she could remember, so her fear ? though natural ? still came as a surprise. She was glad she was naked ? at least she could pass off the shivering as a reaction to cold. And the thought of the crowd about to appraise her made her nipples harden in anticipation, making the illusion complete.
The crowd?
She remembered reading
of Roman circuses. Tens of thousands of people cheering,
laughing, as slaves were torn apart by wild beast. She had sometimes
imagined herself as a slave then ? used for gratification, beaten for pleasure
? and the orgies she would have seen after the circuses. The
nobles, aroused by the violence, fucking each other and raping slaves to
satiate their lust.
A cry from the stage snapped her back to the present. The girl before her had just been auctioned, and her new owner had stepped forward. He was well known for the ?art? he made out of parts of slaves, and the girl had a day or two to live, at most.
This was it. She was next. She stood still, awaiting the call? everything coming into sharp focus. The murmer of the crowd. The heat from the dozens of bodies packed into such a small area. The bump and jostle of a hip or breast from the women around her, herded together like cows in a chute.
She had once been
owned by a Master with a ?cow? fetish. He had bought her a pump, fed her pills,
made her lactate. He sometimes treated her as livestock, but at other times was
gentle and warm. She was young then, wanting to experiment more, and asked to
be released.
Fingers tightening in her hair. Lost in the memory, she imagined Him pulling her to ? No. This was the auction. She was being pulled roughly on stage. She stubbed almost all her toes on the short staircase, rushing to keep up with the handler yanking her onto the dias. The crowd chuckled as she stumbled, as much at her awkwardness as at her predicament.
Many girls followed the path, from slap and tickle to D/s experimentation, to hard core slavery. What started as voluntary sexual exploration became such an intrinsic lifestyle that they couldn?t imagine themselves ?free?. Not serving their Master? Not being told what good slaves they are? Not humiliated and commanded? What ?freedom? was that?
And so here she stood, before a mixed crowd that had one thing in common: The passion, desire, and resources to buy human female flesh. Some of them would keep their slaves as pets or livestock, others as sexual playthings and punching bags, still others as? meat.
Her shoulders ached as she stood in the spotlight, but she remembered to thrust them back, prominently displaying her breasts. Her wrists, shackled together, were chaffed and raw. Her feet ? especially her freshly bruised toes ? were killing her.
The silhouette of the crowd rippled as paddles were raised in silent bidding. She couldn?t see the display behind her, so was oblivious to how much her flesh was going for, but a part of her wanted it to be the largest sum of the evening ? a girl has her pride, after all. Then a voice in her head: Only the cruelest of Masters spend so lavishly, because they rarely find regular subs willing to perform those services for them. Are you ready to die?
Hands
around her throat. His powerful frame almost invisible in the darkness, but its
presence undeniable. There were times when his thick cock was painful to
service, but she did her best? now, with her impending death, His cock had
swollen to new proportions that threatened to split her open. ?Are you ready to
die?? His husky voice intoned in the dark. She knew he enjoyed the thought of
slaves as meat, but never imagined it would come to this. His iron grip was
unrelenting, his thrusting growing harder and harder. In previous play, she?d
tap and he?d release her. But tonight was different. Tonight he?d told her he
was going to snuff her during sex, then roast parts of her for an exotic meal.
She?d been terrified, and started to cry.
The auctioneer?s excitement was obvious ? bidding had passed the previous high mark and continued to rise. It was down to two bidders now ? both seemingly willing to pay any price. Blinded by the spotlight, she had no idea who they were ? but knew this was the sort of club where people honoured their bids. Deadbeats and wannabes went home in a cardboard box. Or two.
She was as proud as a slave would allow herself. Many of the other girls were far younger, some still teenagers, but her body had aged well. She was still curvaceous and tempting, and knew what effect her posing had on men. Even Doms with otherwise impeccable self control.
It felt strange not
having anything around her throat. He?d removed her physical collar at the
start of the session ? she knew without question that He owned her, so the
actual collar was cosmetic ? and now his hands were gone from her throat as well.
He was spooning her,
those same strong hands now petting her hair as he held her to him. It had all
been a mindfuck, she realized. An
extremely pleasurable one, in retrospect. She had asked to be broken
that night. Begged for it. She?d wanted to be used,
nothing more than an object. Meat. But in lieu of the
expected beating, He had gone inside her mind and conjured images and reactions
far more intense than flogging or slapping would have caused. Not meat to be
pummeled, but meat to be cooked. She realized only now that her hands hadn?t
been restrained. He?d placed them, crossed-wrists, above her head and told her
they were bound. That had been enough to convince her. Free to defend herself,
she realized, there had never been any real danger.
He had held her for
close to an hour, making her feel safe. Soon after, they fell in love.
It was over. With a crisp bang of the gavel she?d been sold, and was lead off the stage. Her feet were killing her and her shoulders screamed in silent agony as she stood in the receiving pit, awaiting her new Owner. She couldn?t think of Him as Master. Not yet, and perhaps never. But He did buy her, and she was now His, so Owner would do.
The crowd moved as one organism, parting to allow her Owner through. The man accepted her papers from the auction official, and wound her leash in one calloused hand. ?Come?, he tugged at her leash. Ugh. One of those. Reinforcing every command, secretly unsure of compliance. These were the sort that often used submission as a way to abuse girls, not for mutual pleasure. She felt her stubbornness rising. You may have bought me, she thought, but you might not earn me.
Her newfound independence made it all the more shocking when she was shoved in the empty back of a cargo van. The wall between her and the only two seats was almost solid, save for a small window between driver and passenger. She could hear them talking amongst themselves as they drove. She dared not approach the window ? her only source of light in the otherwise solid cargo area ? not only did she not want to risk punishment, but the man was driving as though he?d forgotten there was a naked girl with no seat or seatbelt being tumbled around in back like a shoe in a dryer. She?d found a corner to wedge herself in, and wedged she would try to stay for the rest of the ride.
She hugged her knees to her chest. Her breasts had swelled in her teens, and jiggling could be the wrong kind of painful. Not as firm as in her prime, they now required even more support now. But they were still beautiful.
In any event there was no need to peer through the small window. It was too dark to see anything but the bits of road illuminated by the streetlamps, and she could hear every word. The driver and passenger spoke of the ?delivery?. It was certain, then. She was to be given or resold to yet another. The dehumanization, exactly the reason she?d entered the contest, thrilled and terrified her at the same time.
She now realized why He kept storming into her memories. There had been other men before him, and many more since. Some were mere boys, figuratively and literally. Awkward fumblings on basement couches or in cars. Sometimes the sex had been fantastic, other times masturbation would have done more for her. But she enjoyed the contact. Eager hands, lips, cocks? Others had been unrelenting in their cruelty, sometimes ignoring the ?yellow? safeword and stopping only at ?red?, when her back was split and raw from flogging or her organs bruised by fists. Some didn?t stop at all, and she?d run away shortly thereafter. Some had been good Masters. Sometimes hard, sometimes gentle. She?d loved them, too. But eventually she felt that same need to go explore, not yet fulfilled.
But He? He was back. In her mind. In her heart. Why now? Because he?d once whispered this very scenario to her in the dark. As she lay on the bed, spread for him, his hands had wandered over her flesh? His property? as he described her up on that stage. He painted a picture of it so vivid, so real, she could see herself being auctioned; could feel the hot breath of the other women on the nape of her neck as she awaited her turn. The grizzled messenger buying her, bringing her to Him. His fingers had worked inside her, curving to touch her in that way of His, the other hand pressing gently on her lower belly. She?d cum, the first time a man?s fingers had granted her that release.
Her heart soared with the memory of that fantasy. Had he seen the future? No. He was a storyteller, adept at spinning tales amusing, horrific, or passionate as required. In fact He made His living at it as an accomplished writer. He?d even written a story about her after they?d parted; one that she was unsure how to react to. He had seemed so willing to let her go, to give her the freedom she needed. Was it a sign of some obsession? Or a tribute? She?d realized it was the latter. He was among the few who realized that loving someone sometimes means letting them go. Where others had demanded ? or begged ? that she stay, He had released her whenever she asked.
She imagined herself being brought to Him now, as in that almost-forgotten fantasy. Arriving at her new residence and seeing those eyes greeting her, that familiar mischievous smile, that intoxicating? musk. Don?t get your hopes up, the familiar voice of cynicism in her head reminded her. It was just a story. He was just one master.? One she remembered fondly, but hadn?t seen or spoken to in years.
They had kept in touch for a long time after. Friends with benefits. Sometimes she?d donned her old collar at His request, happy and eager to do so. But he?d always let her go when the wanderlust came over her. The ring He?d given her to wear between sessions wasn?t a collar, but she wore it often to remember the respect between them and the safety and comfort He continued to offer. She?d sought his counsel when she needed advice, and always trusted His word.
But then she?d met a Master who excited her. This new one, realizing the meaning of the ring, had ordered her to take it off. She complied, wanting to please Him and feeling very much in love. The one who gave it to her no longer owned her, after all ? she had a new Master now, and emotions were running strong.
But when He ordered her to get rid of it, she secretly disobeyed. She hid it away, not knowing why.
Eventually it hit her; He was threatened by her past, that which made her what she was and what she offered Him. Why? She served Him well and had given Him her heart. The thought troubled her. ?A crack in her trust rippled through.
A few weeks later, she felt the need to move on. He?d cried and begged. Those familiar words she?d heard so often before, from so many mouths. I need you. I can?t live without you. Blah.
The van abruptly halted, smacking her against the bulkhead.
She waited for the rear door to open? waited? waited? Idiot, the voice chided. They?re
having a break, and you don?t matter to them. You?re just a delivery. Here you
sit until they?re ready for you.
Typical. Just as she?d resigned herself to being in the van that was her cell, the door opened. ?Come?, the messenger barked. She placed the handloop of the leash in her mouth and quickly scampered out of the van. He took the leash and led her towards the house, his companion walking ahead and unlocking the sturdy door.
It yawned open, the enormous maw suiting the opulent house. She knew any man who could afford to pay such a sum for a disposable woman would be wealthy, and the house was suitably opulent. Not overly large like the pretentious mansions of the upper middle class, those living large paycheque to large paycheque barely a step ahead of their bills in an effort to impress the neighbours, but tastefully showing the owners affluence.
She was lead to a room, not a word spoken. The messenger grunted a command: it sounded enough like ?stay? for her to get the meaning, and beetled out of the room.
Naked, vulnerable, and not knowing her fate she stealthily glanced around. The sparse room had a fantastic view out its floor-to-ceiling windows, moonlight pouring in and making artificial illumination almost gauche by comparison. She was glad the lights were off. Had they been on, even with the house so high up the hillside, neighbors could easily see her in all her nude splendor. Vanilla neighbors who wouldn?t understand.
The waiting was the worst of it.
High heels clacked on the hardwood. A woman ? uncollared and Amazonian ? circled into her field of view. A magnificent specimen by any standard, the new arrival appraised her with icy efficiency.
?So you?re the new one, eh??
She was about to say ?Yes, Mistress? when a stinging slap silenced her opened mouth.
?Bitch!?
What had she done wrong? Or was this her new purpose ? to be beaten and abused by a woman. She stood, eyes downcast, wrists at the small of her back, and awaited the beating.
?
She felt something pressed into her hand, her fingers pushed closed over it., clenching it tightly. ?I don?t know why. He won?t let you wear it. He never lets us wear it. God knows what it?s for.?
It was hard, flat, and felt like metal but she dared not move to examine it. Her new Mistress or Master could enter at any moment, and she wanted to be properly posed.
Soft footsteps behind her grew closer? closer? warm breath caressed her neck. Despite herself she tensed, awaiting the end.
?Well, look at it.?
So grateful for the permission to see what she was holding, she barely heard the speaker. She opened her hand and held it up, taking in the adonized metal of the tag in the moonlight. Her fingers played over the engraved letters, a familiar sight.
She turned to see Him. Those eyes, those protective arms?
?Welcome, pussikat.?
She was safe. She was home.
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After the Lakeview game, I buckled down and did everything Bo Harrington wanted. If I wasn't in school or church, football consumed ninety percent of my day. If I was lucky, I found an hour a day right before bedtime for myself. I spent most of that time talking to my friends on video chat. Tracy snuck out a couple of nights and we spent the night. I loved having my apartment over the garage. Tracy and I were becoming a team. She understood the demands on my time and she was doing a lot of...
A good friend of ours in the US told us that there would be a Slave Market Auction coming up in Southern Texas & that it was going to be a Fund Raising night for a Male Dom that had come down with Cancer.We have never attended a Slave Market Auction before, both my slaves & I were talking about this when diana asked if we could go, as it sounded like it would be a good event & for a good cause. alice said she had gone on line & read about real slave auctions, but didn't want to...
There’s this Charity Auction that changes his life. The actors in this script are of legal age, but may portray maturing young adults. This is a work of adult erotic fiction and contains descriptions of sexual acts between consenting adults. If you’re under the age of consent where you reside, delete this file immediately. If it is illegal to obtain adult literature where you reside, delete this file immediately. If it’s entirely legal for you to read sexually explicit material, I hope you...
Lorne Ascott pulled his coat tight around his body before stepping from the lobby of his downtown Chicago office building into the cold December winds that whipped unmercifully off of Lake Michigan! As usual the limo was idling silently at the curb, and when Charles, his chauffeur of fifteen years spied him coming through the revolving door, he quickly hopped out of his driver's seat and opened the rear door to allow his boss easy entrance into the luxurious car while he said evenly, "Thank...
GayI am a wealthy business owner of a highly successful kennel that raises and trains large breed dogs in security and health assistance. Most of my dogs sell for between 15 to 50 thousand dollars depending on the training required. I am also a divorced single mom. My kids are all adults and grew up without a father until they left home. That's when I remarried to a wonderful man by the name of Paul Anderson. My kids are Dave Palmer who is a 26 year old construction worker. My daughter is...
The Auction written by Joel D. Haskell Dusk was beginning to settled along the countryside, upon a ancient longvillage. Kitty was out, taking her laundry from the line, she swiftly steppedback inside. The wind was picking up, and she was going to be late, if she did not hurry.She had plans for the night. She was going to go into the bigger city with her girl friends to have afew drinks at a brand new bar that she had been hearing so much about. Kitty hustled into the cabin, making sure that...
Farm Adventures Begin At The AuctionBy Wonder_Dad - Story #10I was amazed, never having been at a horse auction before, at the sheer number of horses being auctioned off. I was a fish out of water, not able to tell a good horse from a bad one, but I was determined to make a new life for my family. I sat and watched the auction, hoping to glean an idea for future auctions, where I would actually bid on a few horses, and hopefully, get the first few steeds for the Farm."You are new here, I have...
Lke aIn the continuing story about my Nubie sub Stephanie. We received an email from a BDSM club in Washington that we have gone to a few times last year. They were having a BDSM slave auction and I said to my sub wife . I asked her think we should put Nubie Stephanie up for sale at the auction. My subbie wife said yes let's do it. I called Stephanie into the living room and told her that Saturday night you will be sold at a slave auction. She said what? I said yes you will be put up for...
Lost AuctionA sadistic ADULT tale of female domination by Miss Irene Clearmont.Copyright ? Miss Irene Clearmont 2013----------------------Lost Auction----------------------The darkness engulfed him, it processed his mind, it filled him from the tip of his cock to the place where his jaw was stretched open. It devoured him and digested him in solitude, but it did not spit him out! Harold was in the box of panic, the box of shadows.He guessed that he had been in that darkness for an hour, but how...
I dressed with extra care. The annual Scholarship Auction Dinner was always a special event, an occasion to wear evening clothes and black tie, but this year was extra special. I had been dieting and exercising like mad to fit back into my most elegant outfit, a St. John knit that was some years old, but truly a classic. A gorgeous royal blue suit with gold threads, it included a short skirt, silk blouse, and a form-fitting jacket.I looked at myself from all angles in front of the full-length...
Oral SexCOLLEGE GUY SOLD AT SLAVE AUCTION Shortly after my 18th birthday, I enrolled at a university just north of Chicago. I'm not much into team sports but like cycling, skiing, and rock climbing. My stats are brown eyes and hair, 5' 11", 155 pounds, and good build. My main turn-on is bondage pictures and stories. I imagine myself as the one being bound and tormented. I'm not particularly interested in guys except as props necessary for my fantasies. I picked my school because I think Chicago would...
Author's note: Unlike my other stories, this one is written in the third person. This story peripherally involves a few characters from a couple of those stories. For reference purposes, this all you need to know: Cafe 101 - a popular LGBTQ club Bianca - trans woman, part owner of the club Beth - Bianca's twin sister, part owner of the club Brandon - Bianca's husband, an editor and book publisher Anna - Beth's wife, a famous writer of romance novels, and a trans woman Prologue: A...
Part: Part 5: The Auction Michael gathered all of his employees to make an announcement about the upcoming auction. “We’ve had a great month. We have collected six girls and it is time to sell them and collect our money. First we have the mother/daughter pair, Sara and Becky. These are our prizes, they should easily fetch upward of $500,000, with their blonde hair, the Japanese buyers will love them. Mom is in great shape for her age and, at eighteen, Becky will be loved for her tight body,...
EroticIt wasn't supposed to be like this. Not at all. It was ridiculous, actually. Katherine knelt there passively, with everyone watching, while Jessica poured warm chocolate sauce down the front of her dress. Katherine cursed herself for allowing it all to happen. It had begun as a silly idea. Leigh-Ann brought it up over a mouthful of dim sum. The trays of food released their spiced steam into the already humid air of Katherine's conservatory. Rare orchids and tropical flowers always seemed to...
Early in October, the Phi Delta sorority hosted an “auction” of young male freshmen who were pledging a nearby fraternity. Phi Delta—the Greek letters for FD, or Female Domination—was devoted to young women who enjoyed inflicting sadistic, erotic v******e on men. And the fraternity pledges, for the most part, were eager to show they were tough enough to survive a night of sexual torture so they could join a prized college fraternity. So it was a “win-win” situation for the sorority and the...
We spent the next few days trying to come up with a solution to our problem. Our second slave was replaced by 373, a nice fully developed blonde with an annoying habit of screeching when she came. It was so annoying that I stopped fucking her after a couple of days. Besides, I really only enjoyed sex with Jenny. The slave auction was that Friday, and I didn't really want to attend, but 594 insisted I go. She was hoping we could find some way of transferring Jenny to a 7 class so I could...
The auctionWhen my Owner opened the cage I could see in his eyes that this was going to be an unusual day. I stepped out quickly, knelt before him and kissed his shoes. He allowed me to kiss his right foot for a minute then pushed the left one forward A minute later he pulled back. ?Attention!? Immediately I knelt up, spread my knees wide and grabbed my hands behind my head. When I looked up at him expectantly, I saw him smile. ?I guess you are well-trained now, Susie.? I still hated the name,...
The AuctionBy BossDaddyMy wife and I started off slow in the swinging lifestyle. We would hook up with neighbors and friends and people we worked with until we discovered the Swinging Clubs and all they had to offer. One club we found called “Sexy Escapes” worked by having members earn points that can be redeemed for things and people later. One of these things is a yearly Sex Slave Auction. Men and woman put themselves up on the auction block as a sex slave to the highest bidder and they...
Vivian stood behind the changing screen and looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. She was more nervous this evening than the day she walked down the aisle and she knew it was probably apparent to anyone who cared to look at her. No matter how ready she thought she was every time she stood up her legs started trembling and she felt dizzy and she had to sit back down in the wooden folding chair. Even though her husband George was being very supportive of her, still she wasn't sure...
Sorority Slave AuctionThe procedure for the sorority initiation was always the same. Twenty attractive young women arrived at the neighboring frat house, and they were locked in a room and then they voluntarily stripped down to their bra and panties. Then, they waited while the noise in the next room got louder and louder. In the next room, 40 frat boys gathered, drank beer, and waited for the slave auction to begin. At 8:00PM, raunchy music would start and the first girl would come out. ...
People always have a desire for three things; Control, Power, and Sex. These things are what lead to people being sold as slaves for one reason or another. However not every slave is equal and some have defects which make them almost impossible to be sold. These defects can range from being too rebellious for any other auction to handle or their training is to match a specific client who no longer is able to make the purchase. Maybe their identity makes them to notorious for most to purchase or...
BDSM{This tale is rather mild in the sex department compared to most posted here, so if not your thing, best to wander on to a different story.} +++ I don’t know why I did it, I just did. People can be so…well, we all know how some people can be. It was for charity, coming up on Christmas and the kids in my senior class decided to hold an auction to raise some money. Not a bad thing there, an idea like that. Usually everyone brings in some gadgets to donate, we all bring in some cash and buy...
Number 31 of a series of individual stories. The Auction By SONIA (E-mail [email protected] - Please send comments) Chapter 1 - Friday Evening I wonder how many men were greeted by their wife when they arrived home from work on a Friday in the way I was on occasions. My wife, Sally Anne was standing on the doorstep holding out a glass of whisky for me wearing a set of matching pink satin bra, panties and suspender belt, black stockings and black knee...
The Auction By Brandi Carlsen Paul was a popular enough kid. By his junior year in high school, he had lots of friends which included some of the A-crowd. He probably could have joined the A-crowd, but he was such a decent guy he was still friends with some of the kids he knew from grade school who hadn't been as socially adept as he. Nerds, geeks, jocks, brains, preps, gangstas and Goths all appeared in his myspace friends list. He could have been class president if he wanted -...
To this day, I don't know why I went to the auction. I certainly had no intention of purchasing a slave, even had I enough money for it. But I turned in through the great portico and took a bidding card from the door-man. "Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen. This morning we have a fine selection of females. The males are this afternoon, in case you didn't realise. As usual, we begin with the untrained virgins... Lot 1..." A girl in a loose, plain dress, appeared through the curtain with a...
Fundraising AuctionI work in a large company and every year we have a large fundraising event. If you don't have the money to contribute, you can also donate any goods or services. All of the funds go to local charities, so it helps everyone. The event is held at a large hotel, and there is a large silent auction of donated items. There is also plenty of food and drink, although it is a cash bar and the profits go to the different charities.At the time, I was just making ends meet with my...
SpankingSo every year we have an auction at work to help raise money for either new equipment or for a non-profit organization. Every year the guy that gets sold for the most amount can be the king of the station and bust everyone else’s balls. So we are all dressed in our uniforms and get brought up on stage to be sold off to the people in the audience. What people are buying is us for one day of household chores or taking the person out for dinner at the place of their choice. Which can get a...
Sleep. If you could call it that came late and in fits. My ass was sore from the stretching plug crammed inside of me. When I shifted position on the bed my tits flopped around and my nipples dragged on the sheets. My cock kept trying to get hard but couldn't due to its constraints. I had to go pee in the night and tip toed in to the bathroom. Of course I started thinking I should have worn a nightie (huh?), but I always slept in the nude before why not now. Morning came all too soon...
The Auction. By Jill Bird. Part 1. "But why an auction? It's just making me into a prostitute!" Jill had herangry and hurt look; one, which Mark knew, meant she was about to dig her heelsin. "No, it won't!" Mark had to tread carefully now if he was going to get hisbeautiful wife to go along with the plan. "What it is, er, is instead of theold seedy thing of throwing the men's car keys onto a table and then lettingthe women pick up a key at random, the men bid for the woman of their...
"But why an auction? It's just making me into a prostitute!" Jill had her angry and hurt look; one, which Mark knew, meant she was about to dig her heels in. "No, it won't!" Mark had to tread carefully now if he was going to get his beautiful wife to go along with the plan. "What it is, er, is instead of the old seedy thing of throwing the men's car keys onto a table and then letting the women pick up a key at random, the men bid for the woman of their choice. This way, the men get a...
James was rather upset that everything had devolved like that. For starters, why did he react like that? He’d never been so touchy about such things before. Normally he would have just let it slide for now and make a note to take his own back later. Then a sudden thought hit him. “Oh no!” he mumbled. He then closed his eyes and entered his spirit realm. When he appeared in his realm, he started looking everywhere. He even separated his lightning nucleus and plasma whirlwind. After a while,...
Something about her drew my attention. Perhaps it was the look in her eyes, the intelligence that was evident. I had not expected to purchase anything at the auction this day. But I knew I had to have her, to own her and to take her, a slave for my bed.I checked my pockets to insure I had the coin of the realm, gold coins, mainly and some silver. As she was led to the auction block, a much younger woman was sold off, probably for the local bar that catered to men with my taste.She was mature...
Asians for AuctionPart 1"I just don’t like the idea of being auctioned off for any reason.??Come on, Ev, it’s for a good cause,? Janet exclaimed.Janet was an officer of the UCLA chapter of ASA, Asian Service Association, a campus club that held various fundraisers so that they could assist needy groups and kids. After school tutoring, taking inner city students on weekend outings, visiting senior centers, and various other community activities gave the college students a sense of doing...
Kerrie wasn’t happy about having to attend the formal gathering that her company was hosting, but then, she didn’t really have any plans for Valentines Day anyways. It would be just another boring night at home. It had been five months since she called it off with Mike and she just hadn’t felt like being around anyone, men in particular — especially married men. ‘Look Kerrie,’ her boss would say. ‘It’s just like horseback riding. If the damned animal bucks you off, you jump back on and use...
The Auction by Carrie AnneFor adults only ? not to be taken seriously ? yada yada yada! Stewart walked into the sale and smiled at all the figures before him.? He picked up the guide and flicked through it, looking at the pictures in the guide and comparing them with the various women and men.? Some were trained slaves whose owners had tired of them and were selling them; others were individuals who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.? He came to a stop in front of...
Sold! Number 28 was standing in a cage with 3 other female slaves waiting for their turn to be auctioned off. She could hear the auctioneer as he called out the bids on the slave taken from the cage a few minutes before. As number 28 stood there nervously, she reflected back on her path to this point in her life. She had been a relatively shy but normal 34 year woman. Long brown hair, nice soft body with curves accented by a little extra weight. Her childhood was normal with loving parents...
“Mom, is daddy really going to be naked in front of all these ladies? In front of my teachers and friends and their mothers? Oh God, in front of me?” Annie demanded to know!“And in front of me, too?” Shelly wanted to know. Shelly and Annie have been best friends since kindergarten. While Shelly had stayed overnight at Annie’s house many times, she never got to see Annie’s father naked! At best she saw him in his boxers in the morning, and sometimes she thought she could detect some morning...
IncestAUTHOR’S NOTE – For best effect, read parts 1-15 before this part. The main character, Sethy, is based upon the real woman who is an active member of the XHamster community (Sethy is not her XHam name). Sethy is an avid supporter of the Sethy series. This story is the property of the author and cannot be copied or used in part or in entirety without express written consent of the author. Sethy – Part 16 – The AuctionSETHY“Wake up bitch! Wake up!” I heard Hiro’s voice and then felt him pinch my...
Headmaster Ozpin was in a bit of a difficult situation. Thanks to the after effects of the breach the city of vale had to spend large amounts of Lien to repair for the damages. Because of the amount of money spent it would be quite difficult to properly prepare for the Vytal festival. If he could not find a new source of money he may have to cancel the festival all together. Letting out a sigh of frustration Ozpin took a sip of his coffee before he turned to his computer and decided to see if...
It's been some months since you've been to the auction house. You didn't see any girls you liked last time, but you have a couple of very sexy slave girls back home that you've trained well. Now, as you flip through the photos and information of today's auction, four particular girls catch your eye: Natalie - Her photo shows that she has long brown, curly hair, and a very sweet face. Her breasts are not ample, but are decent sized. The auction house, as always, has kept its promise to shave the...
BDSMThere's a few things about the house that are more difficult for me to manage on my own. Gardening is one of worst. We have a friend who very kindly mows our lawns for us, but there's lots of other heavy work that I find too much. When the secondary school that our oldest c***d goes to had a charity "auction of promises", of course we went anyway to support their school. When one of the lots being offered was an afternoon of gardening work by a group from the sixth form, that was just too good...
The next four weeks were a flurry of activity for the young slave. She slept and ate little. Her exercise regimen was long and strenuous. She felt her muscles grow hard and her stomach and waist get narrower. She could see the muscles on her stomach, but there was still a thin layer of fat that covered them. "I think it is genetic," said her Master, after several weeks. "The only way we could get rid of that layer would be to completely starve you, and that we don't want." After seeing...
"Sold!" yelled the auctioneer. Amid a spattering of applause, the naked girl hurriedly scooped up her clothes and scampered past us through the curtains and off the stage, giving me a shy grin as she went by. The young man ahead of me was next, and he sauntered out into the spotlight. There were a few wolf-whistles, and the auctioneer began his patter, "OK folks, here's Paul, he's 23, and six one. This one is ladies-only, so wants him all to herself for the next twenty-four hours?" A few bids...
Masturbationhe ship reached port at dark. Gina heard the noises ondeck as the giant hawsers were looped over massive cleats andpulled taut, securing the ship to the stone pier. Finally theship was almost still, at least compared to the voyageitself. Gina had put on the outfit her master had left forher. She wore a leather bra with the nipples cut out, aleather G-string, her collar and wrist and ankle cuffs. Hercollar now bore a metal dog's tag which read: "Name: Sweet Tits Owner: Captain J T W ...
7 July, 1686 Afternoon A small platform had been set up in the port. The crowd was too big for the main square. Isabel had just been auctioned off. The sisters, having been placed behind an improvised curtain, had not been able to see anything, but they had heard the bid—ding and the roar of the crowd. Isabel had been sold to a Miss Bjorn, a land—owner of Scandinavian origin who possessed one of the largest plantations of sugar cane on the continental coast. She had fetched five thousand...
The slave auctions were held regularly and so Rubina spent only three more days in a cage at the auction house to which she was sent, hobbled and shackled. The cage itself was a form of torture, since it was roughly cubic, but only about five feet in each direction, and she was unable to stand or lie down in any comfort. The only possible position was to sit on the floor with her back to the bars; the chains on her ankles and wrists made even that uncomfortable. Water and food were placed in...
The black cloth hood that covered her head was suffocating. Breathing out of her nose no longer provided enough oxygen, so every breath had to be taken with her mouth. This caused the sound of each exhale to reverberate mercilessly in the confined space around her head. She heard the door open and her heart beat doubled. The man’s voice uttered yet another number that was not hers and she experienced a mix of relief that it was not yet her time and anxiety that her wait was again extended. She...
BDSM“Clara, are you touching yourself? I heard you moaning, I can smell your juices kitten.” Oh no my Sir, my Dominant who was in control of me. “Yes Sir I was, I’m sorry Sir, it just feels so good.” “Who does that cunt belong to” “you Sir.” “Therefore I am the only person who should be touching it, unless I say otherwise” “Yes Sir, I’m sorry Sir.” “You will be Kitten, follow me.” He walked into the spare bedroom, unfortunately we didn’t have a dungeon in this house, we were in the process of...
I have this fantasy where I have offered my personal services for 24 hours at a charity auction to help them raise money. I will do whatever they want for 24 hours. Little do I know what is in store. I figure some cleaning, repair, etc. As I am presented, the bidding gains momentum. It starts at $500, then $1000, then gets close to $10,000 and I figure that at least my efforts will help the charity. Then I hear someone say that 24 hours of service should be worth more than that. I can't...
One evening after dinner I was summoned to Mistress Claudia's office. I entered, walked to a position about one a half meters in front of her, as I had been taught, and lowered myself gracefully to my knees. Weeks of training had brought to this simple act depths of gracefulness and submissiveness that I had never before dreamed possible. My walk was now the walk of a confessed slave girl, my bared hips swaying softly in mute offering. My posture was erect and proud, the curves of my rounded...
Sarah agreed to help at a 1950s Charity auction you know walking about with the item or the show card To get into the mood she went onto e bay and bought a real sexy 1950s bra and pantie set in pink a rock n roll skirt and tight white blouse. Any way on the night the auction went well all the normal charity stuff dinners, men doing gardens in jock shorts, women washing cars in t shirts etc etc any way coming to the end was few £100 short of target the auctioneer Ken asked for any last minute...
Group SexKitten and I were laying on our couch, on a warm summer evening. What we had watched was very unimportant. Her mom was home which usually meant I wasn't going to get any. We were both eighteen but living in her mom's house; it could be hard to get privacy. I was lying behind her, which I loved because I would nibble on her ear, which drove her crazy. Her shampoo, which I'm sure was some sort of coconut, was drifting through the air. Her thick red hair tangled in my fingers, I nibbled on her...
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