The Auction

by Claire Thompson

  Tears sprang to Carly’s eyes, but she kept her hands down. Her cheeks were bright red and a single tear slipped down her face. Despite his recent climax, Adam’s cock nudged at the pretty sight.

  “That was for hesitating,” he explained. “When I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand? My word is law. Break that law, and pay the price.”

  He stood and reached his hand down to her, indicating she should take it. He pulled her to her feet. “Speaking of breaking the law, that was a very undisciplined display in the car. Tell me, what were my instructions?”

  Carly looked down, mumbling something.

  He reached for her chin, forcing her face up. “Speak clearly.”

  “I moved, Sir. You told me to stay still, no matter what you did to me.”

  “That’s right. And what happens to slave girls who don’t do as they’re told?”

  Her voiced trailed to a whisper. “They get punished.”

  Adam’s smile was wicked, his cock tingling at the prospect. “It’s time you saw the dungeon.”

  Chapter 3

  Adam had Carly precede him up a wide, curving staircase, his hand on her bare shoulder, her slip left behind in the front hall. Carly could still taste the salty, mushroom flavor of Adam’s semen on her tongue and she could still feel the imprint of his hand on both cheeks. Despite her embarrassment at having proven disobedient in the face of his direct command, her cunt felt swollen and wet. Having her face slapped had always been a sexual trigger, a fact of which he was probably aware, since it was in her dossier.

  On the second floor Adam guided her down a thickly-carpeted hallway. As they walked, Carly caught a glimpse of what must be the master bedroom, a large brass bed on one side, a sitting area on the other, complete with its own stone fireplace.

  At the end of the hall Adam had her stop in front of a narrow door. Pulling a key from his pocket, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. Unlike the wide, polished wood stairs leading to the second floor, these were narrow and covered with thin, well-worn carpeting. They led, Carly imagined, to what must have been servants’ quarters at one time. Now, she thought with a shiver of nervous but excited anticipation, they must lead to Adam’s dungeon.

  When they got to the top of the stairs, Carly expected to see the typical setup she was used to from the BDSM clubs—with the requisite St. Andrew’s Cross, whipping posts, chains hanging from the ceiling, manacles imbedded in the walls, bondage tables, and plenty of whips and floggers either hung along the walls or in their own special racks.

  Instead, the space they entered looked more like a den or game room, with large armchairs and a sofa set around what looked like a long, wide storage chest, the top covered with a fitted leather pad. There was a bookshelf against one wall, and a globe resting on a marble pedestal beside one of the armchairs. Against the far wall stood a cabinet with two columns of drawers. Beside it was a tall wardrobe, its double doors closed. A grandfather clock stood in the corner, its brass pendulum swinging slowly. There was even a pool table in a corner of the large room, covered in kelly-green felt.

  Carly scanned the walls, looking for the door that would lead to the actual dungeon when Adam said, “Welcome to my dungeon. You’ll be spending quite a lot of time here over the next thirty days.”

  She nearly blurted out her questioning surprise, catching herself just in time as she recalled his rule that she must ask permission before speaking. “Excuse me, Sir. May I speak?”

  “No.”

  Carly drew in a breath and hiccupped in her effort to stop herself from giving voice to the words that had already formed at her lips.

  Adam was looking at her, his eyes narrowed. “You were anticipating that I would say yes. Never anticipate, Carly. When you ask for something, you make damn sure I approve, get it?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Carly replied, embarrassed.

  “You’re wondering where the toys are—I can see it in your face.” He waved a hand around the large room. “They’re all here, just not necessarily in evidence. You’ll get to know every inch of this space before I’m done with you. I plan to get my money’s worth, slave girl. When you leave here, you will have earned your keep, and then some.”

  His words hung heavy between them, balanced between a promise and a threat, and for the first time since this stranger had bid on her, Carly felt a whisper of fear brush its way through her, making her shiver. What if he took her too far? It wasn’t as if she could just walk out. Was she really up for this? Could she handle whatever this man had in store for her?

  Adam’s smile was slow, at once sensual and cruel as he moved his eyes appraisingly over her naked body. “It’s late, and you’re waiting for your punishment.” He pointed toward the padded chest. “I want you to crouch on the cock box. Disobedient slave girls need a good, hard spanking to remind them of their place.”

  Cock box? What the hell was that? Was the chest filled with dildos? Carly didn’t dare ask. She approached the chest, her lower lip caught in her teeth. Upon closer inspection she saw that there were holes drilled into the wood along the sides of the chest near one end.

  Air holes? Cock box. Were those holes for…? Carly didn’t allow herself to complete the thought.

  “Get on your hands and knees, ass in the air,” Adam said. “I don’t want a sound from you, not a peep. And don’t forget—this is a punishment. I’ll stop when I’m done, not when you think I should be done, is that understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Carly whispered. She assumed the position on top of the chest, which was wide enough to allow her to balance comfortably on her hands and knees. She felt Adam’s hand on her back, guiding her shoulders downward until they were touching the padded wood, forcing the target of her ass up high and clearly exposing her shaven cunt at the same time. Turning her head, she rested her cheek against the cool, soft leather.

  She jumped a little when she felt his hand on her lower back. “Not that I expect you’ll need it right now, but this is as good a time as any to give you your safeword. Since I bought you at auction, the word will be auction. I warn you now, don’t use your safeword lightly. It’s an absolute last resort, to be used only when you don’t feel you can take another second of whatever is happening to you.” His hand moved over her ass, making her skin tingle.

  “I’m confident you understand the seriousness of using the safeword, and I like to think I pay enough attention to my sub’s reactions and responses that it will never be necessary for you to use it. But we are just getting to know one another, and this situation, by definition, demands your immediate trust without allowing us the time to get there naturally.” He ran his finger lightly along the cleft between her cheeks. “If you use the word, all action will cease. If I later determine you used it only because you were afraid or resistant, your punishment will be swift and absolute. Are we quite clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Carly replied, committing the word to memory. She, too, hoped she would never have to use it.

  “Now we’ll get on with tonight’s punishment,” Adam continued. “No ropes, no chains. You will remain in position and take what you deserve.”

  Carly wasn’t afraid she wouldn’t be able to take the pain—she had a high tolerance for pain, especially when it was in an erotic context. She could handle a single tail whip and the cane—surely the spanking would be a piece of cake by comparison. She was more afraid she wouldn’t comport herself with “proper slave decorum”, as the auction house trainers had drummed into her. She had never been good at keeping quiet or still, and always welcomed restraints that would take the decision and need for self-control away from her. Staying still and quiet, she knew, would be the real test.

  She had to prove she was more than just a masochist out for thrills. She had to show Adam she was an obedient and submissive sex slave, even though in her heart of hearts she had no idea if this were true.

  As much as she had enjoyed the BDSM play at the clubs and the games she’d engaged in with her boyfriends, her training at
the auction house made it crystal clear she had little idea what a Master/slave relationship really entailed. It was money that had motivated her to sign up for this, and she’d fervently hoped as the week of training progressed that she had what it took to convince someone she was the real deal.

  The trainers must have seen something in her, because they’d allowed her to complete the course and be a part of the auction. One woman named Patty had been thrown out of the program after the third day, once it became clear she had signed up solely because of the lure of the money. Patty had trouble with even the mildest whipping, and had balked during the humiliation, flat out refusing a direct command.

  Master Franklin had warned them some Masters used verbal and physical humiliation training as a means of control, and the slave girls needed to be prepared for whatever came their way. But when he’d ordered Patty to squat in front of them all and pee on some newspapers, it had been too much for her. Mistress Audrey had escorted her from the training dungeon, and that was the last Carly had seen of Patty.

  Though she’d misrepresented her experience level to the trainers, Carly had handled and endured everything thrown her way, determined to get through it. She’d been prepared to go with any of the men who bid on her, even if they were old, fat and smelly. She knew she was incredibly lucky that Adam Wise had wanted her. He was handsome, sexy, and based on how he’d touched her in the car, he definitely knew his way around a woman.

  The first swat was sudden and hard, a solid thwack against both cheeks. Carly bit back on her grunt of surprise and gripped the overhanging lip of the chest lid to steady herself. The second swat was just as hard, catching her upper thighs, the sting bringing tears to her eyes. He began to hit her in a steady rhythm, though she was never quite sure where the blows would land. It wasn’t long before every inch of her ass and the backs of her thighs were on fire, and it was all she could do to keep the whimpers from getting past her clenched teeth.

  She tried to ease herself into the pain the way the trainers had taught her, to let herself glide and flow with it, to become one with it, but she was too keyed up, and too nervous in this new environment to move into that headspace. She realized she was gripping the padded wood so hard her fingers were spasming. Her body was rigid with the effort to stay still as blow after blow pounded through her frame.

  The skin on her ass and thighs felt flayed and bruised, and still he smacked her, each blow stinging increasingly tender skin. Adam began to focus on one spot, just where her left thigh met her ass cheek, smacking it over and over until Carly thought it might burst into actual flame. Tears were flying from the corners of her eyes and it was too much, too much. Her mouth flew open, the rush of pain pushing past her lips.

  “Noooooooooo!” she wailed. Falling to her side, she crouched on the padded chest, curling tight as she twisted away from Adam’s relentless palm. She was gasping, trying to get the breath to speak, to beg, to apologize, but all she managed to say was, “No, no, no, no…”

  Strong arms encircled her, lifting her into the air. She realized Adam had settled with her on the sofa. Again she tried to speak, but only whimpers escaped between shuddering breaths. Carly realized she was trembling. Without realizing what she was doing, she burrowed her head against Adam’s chest. Her face hidden, she waited for his rebuke, half expecting him to push her from his lap and let her tumble to the floor.

  Instead he just held her, saying nothing, letting her remain curled in his strong arms. Carly realized suddenly that she was exhausted. The last night in the slave quarters she’d barely slept. Nervous and excited about auction day, she and the other slave girls had stayed up late whispering, though each was confined to her own bed, chained by wrists and ankles to the bedstead to get them used to sleeping in shackles.

  Eventually one girl after the other had drifted off, but Carly had remained awake, watching the sky turn from black to gray to lavender and gold as the dawn spilled through the high windows of their dormitory. Nervous energy had kept her wide-eyed and edgy all day and through the auction, but now she found herself bone-weary.

  It felt good to be in someone’s arms, even if it was a man who regarded her solely as a purchased piece of ass. It had been a long time since she’d been held. And though that was by choice, it hadn’t made it any less lonely.

  Just a little longer, she silently begged the stranger cradling her so gently. Her ass and thighs still throbbed with pain and she knew she’d be bruised tomorrow, but right now she felt so good, cocooned safe and small in his arms. Just a little longer…

  ~*~

  Adam stared down at the sleeping girl in his arms, not sure what to think or how to feel. He knew he shouldn’t have picked her up—they weren’t lovers, and she was being punished, after all. He had needed to set a precedent for their future interactions, and he had meant to be stern and clear. Instead, at the first wail he’d stopped the punishment and lifted her into his arms as if she were a child, instead of a hired sex slave.

  Still, he told himself, it was only her first night. She had clearly been nervous and exhausted. The real training could begin in the morning.

  To Carly’s credit, she had taken quite a rough spanking. He’d expected her to balk or cry out sooner than she had. She could take a lot of pain. That was a good thing, as he very much liked to dish it out. The sadist in him thrilled to the power and the passion of taking control of another person—of leading them to the limits of their endurance and then giving just enough push to send them over the edge.

  Pain wasn’t the only means by which he did this—there were many ways to control and use a willing sub, but it was certainly the most direct and immediate way. And there was nothing like a good, hard spanking, that intimate connection of skin on skin, to take the measure of a masochist’s willingness and ability to suffer.

  Adam probably could have found a willing sub by advertising on one of the BDSM sites, but they would have arrived with all their emotional baggage and expectations, not to mention who knew what diseases. No, much better to buy what he wanted and get just exactly what he paid for, and nothing more. There was no pretext or pretense. He would enjoy the process of claiming Carly’s body and mind, but he had no interest whatsoever in her heart.

  The setup was ideal and well worth the money he’d spent. For the month he had this girl in his power, he would use her in ways he might not dare with a lover. He would take her to the very limits of her tolerance, testing her and pushing her, without having to worry or care what she thought of him. He had carte blanche, short of drawing blood, which held no interest for him anyway. He could give free rein to all his darkest, dirtiest fantasies, and she would take it, all of it, or forfeit the money that was undoubtedly her sole motivation for being there. When the month was over, he’d send her on her way.

  Neat. Clean. Simple.

  The clock began to chime the midnight hour. Carly stirred and nuzzled against Adam’s chest. After a moment her deep, slow breathing resumed. Adam shook her shoulder gently. “Hey. Wake up.”

  Carly lifted her head suddenly, her eyes flying open. “Oh!” As he let her go, she rolled from his lap to the carpet and knelt, her head touching the ground. “I’m sorry, Sir! I’m very sorry. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Enough.” Adam stood, stepping away from her. “I don’t like whining or excuses. And stop speaking when you haven’t been spoken to. Obviously your memory isn’t too good. You’ve already forgotten the rules. Tomorrow I’ll have you write them down until you know them by heart, and if you forget again, your punishment will be severe. Do I make myself clear?”

  She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Yes, Sir,” she breathed. “I—yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” Adam turned on his heel and headed for the stairs. “Come on. It’s time for bed.” He turned back, watching her approach him. Again he had her go first down the stairs, keeping his hand on her shoulder to guide her. Her ass was still bright red and he knew it had to hurt. He noticed the two sma
ll dimples indenting the flesh just over her cheeks and was charmed in spite of himself.

  At the bottom of the stairs he took the lead, moving toward his bedroom. Once inside, he turned to her. “Do you need to pee?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Adam pointed toward the master bath and Carly went into it. He followed her, watching as she sat on the toilet. He could see by the blush moving over her skin and the way she averted her eyes that she was embarrassed to pee in front of him, which amused him. This girl blushed so easily, it was almost hard to believe she was a paid professional.

  When she was done, he allowed her to wash her hands and face. “Are you hungry?” he asked. She shook her head. He showed her the toothbrush he had bought for her and let her brush her teeth. When she was done, he said, “Pull back my bedding and then wait for me on the floor beside the bed. Kneel up, knees spread, back arched, arms behind your head.”

  Adam used the toilet and washed up, watching her in the mirror as he did so. She was kneeling as instructed. Her profile was to him, the curve of her pretty breasts lifted by her position. Her nipples jutted out, as if begging for clamps. Her arms were lean and muscular. He wondered how long she could keep a position like that, with her fingers laced behind her neck, her back arched. She was tired, he knew that. What better time to test both her endurance and her obedience?

  Adam returned to the bedroom and took off his clothing, loosely folding them on the brass clothing rack he kept for the purpose. Naked, he sat down on the bed. “Turn to face me. Stay in that position.” He watched as Carly shifted. She had her eyes down and was again worrying her lower lip. Adam said nothing, though he would correct that first thing tomorrow.

  Reaching down, he grabbed hold of one nipple. He felt it engorging against his fingers. He squeezed it and twisted. Carly’s nostrils flared but she kept silent. Letting go, he slapped her breast lightly, enjoying the jiggle of her flesh. Stretching out on the sheets, Adam reached again for Carly, this time tweaking and twisting the other nipple until a tiny whimper escaped her pretty lips. He reached for his cock, lazily stroking it without any real intention to jerk off.