by Trent Evans
She’d been sold.
What did that even mean? Sure, she’d whispered the idea into Kurt’s ear when they’d talked of their fantasies, those parts of them they’d never share with anyone else. Somehow though, he’d gotten her to share this one, managed to get her guard down just long enough to learn this dark fantasy, something she’d been ashamed of, knowing it was like nothing any of her girlfriends daydreamed about.
But then she doubted most of her girlfriends had a man like Kurt, someone who was at once demanding and kind, a man who commanded honesty, but then held those truths sacred, never using them against her once they’d been revealed to him.
Until tonight, that is.
Though even that might not be entirely accurate. She’d mentioned the idea, and he had asked her if she were serious. She’d said yes, her heart in her throat, not knowing what to make of that bright glint in his dark eyes as he watched her. He’d taken her then, like an animal, no sweetness, no tenderness to it, but rather claiming, marking, imprinting upon her his possessiveness — a quality she both craved and feared in equal measure.
The previous weekend …had it been merely a test run? An experiment?
He’d warned her that she’d be expected to obey any command given to her, by any man who gave it. He’d given her a chance to demur — and she hadn’t. She trusted him, knowing he’d take her only as far as she could stand, and no farther. It had been some kind of test, and she’d known she’d passed it. His smile, his praise of her as they’ve driven home at the end of the long harrowing weekend confirming as much.
Now, kneeling, naked, helpless on a straw-covered floor in a stall as if she were a mere animal … she wasn’t so sure.
Then she saw the boots, and she froze, her pulse throbbing in her neck. She didn’t raise her eyes, afraid of whom she might see.
“You think because your husband rigged things that this is the end of it?” A hand grabbed her chin, fingers digging into her cheeks, forcing her gaze up.
Oh, fuck.
It was the young man who’d been thrown out during the auction, the one who’d protested the closing of bids. He was blessed with a sandy-haired, tanned beauty, but it was overshadowed by the coldness she saw in his gaze, the cruel twist of lips that might be alluring in a kind man. She knew that this man was not of kindness, but of something entirely different.
“I don’t care what that old fuck out there said. My father will make sure he regrets that little stunt he pulled tonight. You were stolen from me. You should have been mine.”
How did he get back in?
The words were on her lips, and she wanted to bite the fingers that painfully squeezed her face, but she knew it would only be the worse for her.
He squatted down next to her, his face very close, his warm breath a tickle against her ear. “You should have been in the trunk of my car right now, packed away like the possession you are, Breanna. I have your very own cold, lonely stall ready for you out there on my father’s farm. How I’d work you. I have friends who I take out there when they come to visit too. They’d have fun with this body, these tits of yours. Enjoying my plaything. You’d never have a moment’s rest. Not one, slut.”
Then he stood, pushing her face away. He looked down upon her, his eyes alight with a malevolence that had her trembling. “I’ll be back for you. You’ll see. Then we’ll see how well you run on my father’s track. How well you obey the whip.”
Track?
Then he was gone, and for a moment the space in front of her stall was unoccupied, allowing her to compose herself for what might come next.
“This is her, yes?”
She stiffened at the voice, and looked up. Before her stood two figures, both wearing the neat suits that so many of the other men in this place seemed to favor. One of the men appeared well grayed but handsome, the other still blessed with the vigor of youth. Unlike the man who’d just visited her, these two had none of the cruelty in their expressions, rather theirs were those of frank assessment, analysis, and thankfully, admiration.
“Hello Breanna,” the older man said, his smile warming his face.
The younger of the two shook his head. “Tom, it’s ‘B’, remember? Don’t use their names here.”
“Oh, come on.” Tom frowned at the young man. “There’s no one around, Kort. You can relax, you know.”
“Let’s get her up then.” Kort locked his brown-eyed gaze on Breanna. “We’re just going to untie you so you can stand, stretch your legs a bit. We won’t hurt you, beautiful.”
Though the words did fill her with relief, she still felt on guard. She was all too aware of her helplessness, and the unpredictable quality of male lust, that dark edge that she both feared and craved.
“There, that’s better,” Tom said as he helped her to her feet, holding her by her pinioned elbow to keep her steady. He turned his head toward his younger companion. “What do you think?”
“Quite a bit older than we usually see on the circuit, but I think that’s a good thing. She’ll bring curiosity value.” Kort stepped closer, purposely meeting her gaze as he cupped the vulnerable curves of her breasts in his palms. “She’s beautiful though, and shy too.”
Breanna looked away, the blood hot at her cheeks. It was somehow easier to be up in front of that audience. Up there she was able to depersonalize it in a way, view the crowd as some sort of thing, rather than individual people.
Here in the confines of her stall, on display, she was forced to experience the now, feel the mortification, the betrayal of her body as strange hands fondled her charms, her sex slickening in anticipation. Here it was immediate, inescapable, and though it terrified her, she knew that deep inside she was excited to see what else was to come.
“Let’s have a look here.” Tom gently turned her so that they could get a look at her backside. The ability to hide her face, though a momentary respite, was welcome indeed.
“Good hindquarters, especially for her age,” Kort said, his hand stroking the curves of her buttocks. “She’ll need quite a bit of training, though.”
“Too many days spent in the office and not on the track, eh girl?” Tom pressed a peck to her ear. “Not your fault, I know. Once you’re trained up though, I’ll bet you wow everyone. You’ve got the body for it, that’s for sure.”
Their words shouldn’t have affected her, except to mortify her. But they didn’t.
It felt good.
That praise, that affirmation of her beauty, made her glow inside. Now the whys of that fact were entirely too uncomfortable for her to contemplate at that moment, but nonetheless it was true. It was insane, she knew, but hearing these strange men compliment her on her attractiveness actually made her …happy.
All kinds of messed up you are, my dear.
“Stop dawdling, old man,” Kort drawled with a wry grin. “We’ve got others we need to inspect too tonight.”
“Right we do.” Tom leaned in, whispering in her ear. “I think he likes you, my girl. Makes him nervous. All the fillies do.”
The urge to respond was so strong she had to bite into her tongue. It would’ve been easier, if a good deal more humiliating, to have taken Lino’s gag.
Tom stepped back, stroking his chin. “I’m thinking two-wheeled sulky for sure. Don’t you?”
“Definitely. She’s got the long legs for it,” Kort said. He pulled out a small, black tablet computer from inside his suit coat, punching something into it. “But those big tits of hers are going to give her some trouble once she gets up to speed.”
“Nothing a nice tight harness wouldn’t fix, I should think,” Tom murmured, his eyes flashing.
Breanna felt the color drain from her face. What kind of sling had she gotten her ass into here?
“Oh it’s okay, girl.” Tom stroked her hot cheek, his fingertips pushing a wisp of hair out of her eyes. “The racing harnesses don’t hurt. Keeps those lovely breasts of yours tight and high, that’s all. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’ll m
ark her down for the two-wheel and the free run, for now.” Tom tapped the screen of the tablet and slipped it back into his coat. “We’ll get another look at her mid-training. Fine tune the odds then.”
Tom’s hands stroked down her belly, patting her mons before moving lower to palpate her thighs. His touch wasn’t cruel, and actually soothed her a little, despite the tension she felt submitting to the hands of a complete stranger roaming all over her body. She was surprised at how soon she was acclimating to such treatment. The kindness of both men helped immeasurably, and she really did feel that Tom at least wouldn’t do anything to her. At least she hoped so.
A hand lifted her chin and she found herself looking into Tom’s bright green eyes. “You look great, girl. We’re off now, but the prize winner should be along shortly.” He winked, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Have fun. See you again soon.”
Bidding her to kneel again, they trussed her up as before. Then with a quick press of his lips to her burning cheek, they departed. A burst of laughter sounded from several men some ways off, startling her. She settled back into waiting, watching the increasingly faceless people filing past, most of them scarcely seeming to notice her. With every passing minute, it mattered less and less to her that she was kneeling, naked in a strange stall, a forgotten thing, something less than human.
She lowered her gaze, mortified to see her nipples still hard as stone, despite the humid warmth of the enclosure. Every eye cast her way would fixate on the prominent, pink tips. She’d always lamented her nipples, rarely able to find a bra padded well enough to conceal their jut.
Well, you’ve certainly found one place where bras and high beams don’t appear to be an issue.
She would be strong. This had been something she’d wanted to try, for a very long time. And now, there was no looking back — whether she wanted to or not. She swallowed, and with a shiver, straightened her back. When she looked up, she gasped.
They were here.
Chapter Eight
He wasn’t sure what he’d see when they found Breanna. The first thought that came to his mind as he looked upon the woman kneeling in the straw was: “I don’t want anyone looking at her.”
It was such an odd thing to think, but it just popped in there, before he had a chance to filter it through reality, sanity, or logic.
Such things appeared to have taken leave of this place.
“What do we do now?” Derek hated the uncertainty in his voice, almost as much as he hated the erection he knew his jeans were failing to hide. This whole thing was fucked. Truly fucked. Yet here he was, staring at her. Staring at the generous, heaving breasts he longed to feel fill his hands, at the long, pink nipples he wanted to taste on his tongue, at the big, wide eyes he wanted to kiss the fright from.
“You bought her my friend.” Kurt slipped past Derek, moving into the stall to stand over his wife. “She’s yours to do whatever you like with. That was the deal.”
Breanna’s eyes moved up to her husband’s, and Derek saw something exchanged there, so much said without a single word.
“Then I want her covered up. This is insane.” Derek scanned the enclosure. “Gotta be something we can give her.”
Kurt turned back to him, an eyebrow raised. “Why would you do that? She’s here to be seen. That’s also part of the deal.”
“Is this up to me or not?” The surrealness of this conversation was almost painful. “You said she’s mine, right?”
Kurt’s jaw clenched, then he held up his hands. “All right. You’re right, she is.” He walked back outside the stall. “Hang tight.”
Then he found himself, alone in a building filled with people, with his friend’s wife, naked, on her knees, helpless.
“I — I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do here.”
“I’d say you’re doing—” Breanna’s throat moved. “—just fine.” She flashed him a nervous smile. The same smile that lit up her face, the few times he’d met her. How she’d managed it in this situation, he’d never know.
You need to stop being a fucking pussy, and just roll with this. She picked this, remember?
He tried not to look directly at her as he spoke, but thought better of it. Absurdly, he didn’t want her to think that he didn’t want to look at her. God, all he wanted to do was look at her. All night long. For the next hundred nights.
“I need to know if what he told me … is this something you really — wanted?” He met her gaze. “I can’t do this if this was forced on you. I just can’t.”
The relief he saw in her eyes buoyed his spirits, and she smiled again, this time with more confidence. “I chose to be auctioned, yes … ”
“Here comes the ‘but’, right?”
She dropped her gaze a moment, color flushing her cheeks. Then she met his gaze again. “What happens afterward, after the auction …it’s not up to me.”
“You mean you — just do whatever he says?”
He looked behind him to see if Kurt had returned. No luck.
“I do whatever you say.”
Whoa.
He took in the whips handing from a row of hooks on the wall beside her, and thought what they might do to her—
Stop it. Right now.
Breanna’s brow furrowed, and she glanced beyond him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m—” the flush bloomed fully then, coloring her entire face. “—I’m not supposed to talk.”
“What?”
She swallowed hard. “That’s one of the rules when I come here. No speaking unless spoken to. It’s always been that way.”
“What … why?”
This was getting weirder by the second, but he’d be lying if he said part of this intrigued him. Was this some sort of elaborate role-playing thing? Is that was this was all about? Then he thought back to what he’d witnessed, what he’d heard out there, and thought better of it. If this was just a game, it was the most elaborate mind-fuck of a game he’d ever heard of.
This was the real deal.
“Jesus H,” Derek said, rubbing his chin. He looked behind him once more. “I need to see where the hell Kurt … ”
“Don’t go, please Derek. Sir.”
A chill traveled down his spine, even as his cock ached, fully at attention. So, he found this whole thing way over the top. Apparently, his cock wasn’t getting with the program. Not one bit.
Sir?
Kurt appeared in entrance to the stall again, grinning. He shoved a red and blue striped blanket at Derek. “Here, this is all we have out here.”
“This is it?” Derek held up the heavy wool blanket. “This is your barn, right?”
Kurt shrugged. “We usually take clothes off out here — not put them back on. You’re lucky I found even that.”
Derek spread the blanket in his arms, grimacing at the fact that it was made of wool. He didn’t even want to think of the itching it would cause, laid over her bare skin. He moved behind Breanna, and froze in his tracks. Her arms where bound forearm to forearm in a tight, intertwined leather harness behind her back. He glanced up at Kurt. “Is that really necessary?”
“What? Her arms?”
Derek nodded, spreading the blanket over her shoulders, draping the scratchy wool over the slopes of her quivering breasts. She tensed as he laid it fully over her, then relaxed as he patted her gently on the back.
“Don’t worry about it. They’ll be loosened once Lino takes her—”
“Wait, wait. Back up the train.” Derek jabbed a finger at his friend. “Who the fuck is Lino? And where is he taking her?”
Kurt winced, crossing his arms. “We didn’t get a chance to go over that part did we?”
“There’s more to this circus? Guess maybe it’s time to fill me in, you think?”
Kurt grinned, holding out a hand. “I didn’t want to freak you out. Baby steps, you know?”
Derek sighed, scrubbing his face with both hands. “Look, lets just assume I can take anything you tell me
from here on out. Deal? I did, you know … buy your wife.”
The straw on the floorboards rustled as Kurt circled his kneeling wife, his hand caressing her golden hair. “Lino has to take her to be prepped.”
“Prepped for what? Where is he taking her?”
Kurt stopped, kneeling down in front of his wife. “Another part of the facility.”
“Facility? You mean this place, right?”
Kurt nodded, then looked up at him. “He’s going to be teaching us.”
“Spanish?”
“No, you asshole.” Kurt couldn’t quite suppress his smile though. “He’s going to teach us how to train her.”
Derek’s eyes caught Breanna’s and he saw the truth of things there. This was really happening, and though he did see concern, even dismay in those blue eyes, he saw something else that was unambiguous.
Anticipation.
“Um, Kurt, in case you haven’t noticed, your wife doesn’t need ‘training’. She’s not a dog, she’s a person.”
Kurt’s finger stroked across her mouth, and she closed her eyes, pressing a kiss to it, her soft, full lips making Derek wonder how they’d feel as he kissed them. Then Kurt stood.
“That’s why Lino’s going to be teaching us. And it’s why we’ll be training her.”
“For what?” Derek’s voice was almost a whisper, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear the answer.
“She’ll be trained to become … something else.”
Chapter Nine
Something else? WHAT something else?
Breanna watched the two men talk, conversing above as if she weren’t even there. Things had taken yet another turn for the surreal. When she’d first floated the idea of being put up for a term, she hadn’t even been sure if she were serious. She’d heard the rumors about what went on with the women who’d been sentenced to one. Voluntary or not, once they’d agreed to surrender themselves to the Trust, there was no telling what might be done with them. Perhaps they’d just be shared between a jaded couple in bed a few nights? She’d heard tales of husbands who treated the women as little more than maids — maids who were required to perform a few extra duties though. The whole system was only whispered about and no matter how much she’d interrogated her husband on the topic, he’d always been maddeningly vague, even evasive.
