by Lacey Kane
My jaw dropped. Well, it would have dropped if the duct tape wasn’t preventing that from happening. They’d lost their minds. An indentured servant? Whether they could enforce the monetary part of that contract or not, I was sure that indentured servitude was absolutely, unequivocally illegal. Not gonna happen.
Frank slipped the contract back into the folder. “So, will you be paying us?” He waited a moment, staring at me, but all I could do was blink about the absurdity of it all. “I didn’t think so. Get her ready, boys.”
I shook my head. This couldn’t be happening. But before I could react in any other way, the guys holding my arms tightened their grips and pulled my arms further behind my back. I squirmed, kicking out my legs, but the other guys standing with Frank moved forward to help.
In no time, my arms were bound together behind my back, with ropes tightly against both my wrists and my elbows. More ropes were keeping my legs together, wrapped around me from the thighs all the way down to the ankles. A blindfold came over my eyes, ear plugs blocked my ability to hear, and all I could do was feel.
They bent me over at the waist and forced two huge dildos inside me, one in my ass and another in my pussy. More rope came around my waist to form a belt, and then drew up through my slit and ass crack to force the dildos up higher, holding them snugly in place. They stood me up again, and something came over each breast—something round and plastic and hard. Now, mind you, I’ve got big, natural breasts, 34 DDs, and these things pretty much completely surrounded them.
Then I felt like my tits were being sucked off into outer space. I screamed into the tape, but that sucking pressure kept intensifying. My boobs were swollen and tight and painful, and felt like they had to have grown to at least a J or a K by the time the suctioning stopped. But they didn’t release my breasts. They just left those suction cups on me, and one of the guys picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder.
A minute later, I was tossed down onto something softish, kind of like a mattress. The next thing I knew, that mattress-like thing was moving. I was in a car.
Holy hell, they weren’t kidding about any of this. They were taking me to an auction. And since I was tied up and whatnot, I couldn’t exactly do anything about it at the moment. How on earth was I going to get out of this one?
My sense of time was all out of whack. I could have been in that car for only an hour or so, but it felt quite a bit longer than that. Two hours? Three? Five? Who knew? But when the car finally stopped, someone lifted me out and carried me over his shoulder again.
After carrying me for a couple of minutes, I felt the cool breeze of an air conditioner blowing on me, so I knew I was inside. He put me down none-too-gently where I was sitting on a cold metal chair.
Then…nothing. No one was touching me. I was still blindfolded and had the plugs in my ears, so I couldn’t tell what was going on around me. I was just sitting on that cold metal chair with cold air blowing on me, wearing nothing but a bunch of rope.
I was probably sitting there for at least half an hour, maybe more, shivering the whole time when I suddenly felt some warmth creeping over me. My blindfold was ripped off, and I squinted into what felt like a hundred spotlights shining on me. I couldn’t make out anything but those lights, not even the man standing before me who’d removed the cover from my eyes.
I felt his fingers at my ears, and then the plugs were gone. I heard voices. Lots of voices. All of them male. A booming baritone came over a loudspeaker, then. “Everyone settle down, and we’ll get started.”
The din quieted, chairs shifted against a wooden floor, and then there were only the random sounds of a throat clearing or a stack of papers shuffling.
“We have only one slave up for auction today,” the man on the loudspeaker said a moment later. “It will be known as Slave 4653. At present, Slave 4653 is holding a ten-inch long, two-and-a-half-inch wide dildo in its cunt and an eight-inch long, two-inch wide dildo in its ass. This slave has unenhanced breasts that fill a 34 DD bra. We are informed that Slave 4653 is well trained in accommodating cocks in each orifice. Additionally, this slave has experience in having all three orifices filled simultaneously. Slave 4653 is a natural masochist and often experiences orgasm with pain being administered. It is accustomed to spending much of its time bound.”
It. Slave. Just a number. With each item the man listed, I felt less human. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t know what that would accomplish. Besides, it was all true. It wasn’t like he was making any of it up. I shuddered at the realization of what a slut I’d become.
But it was the realization that I’d be used as a sex slave during my indentured servitude that threatened to rob me of my breath.
“Does this slave deep throat?” another male voice called out from the crowd.
Holy crap. No, I hadn’t ever deep throated anyone. Ty had tried to get me to a few times, but I’d always gagged and he’d stopped. Same with some of the guys in Colorado.
“Ah…” The announcer took a moment shuffling through a stack of papers. “Unknown,” he finally said. “Would you care to test its skill in that field, Jameson?”
The man in the crowd didn’t verbally respond, but I heard chairs shifting and feet moving against the hardwood floor. A moment later, I felt him standing before me, even though I still couldn’t see him because of all the spotlights shining down on me. In a single motion, he ripped the duct tape free from my mouth and I let out a scream. The sound was cut short, because a very large, very hard cock pressed into my open mouth.
He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me off the chair, lowering me to my knees before him and angling my head back. A salty, musky tasting liquid coated his bulbous head, not unpleasant though rather strong, and spread over the top of my tongue. In a single thrust, he forced my teeth apart far enough to nearly reach my gag reflex. With his other hand, he gripped the side of my head with his thumb resting on my jaw. Then he drew his hips back briefly before thrusting in hard.
With both hands, he pulled against my head, forcing his cock past my gag reflex and partially down my throat, despite my cries and the hot tears spilling down my cheeks. He held me there, his thick cock swelling and pulsing against my throat, for so long I felt my lungs constrict from lack of air. When he released me momentarily, I sucked in a gulp of air and fought back the bile rising in my throat, just barely in time before he pressed in again. Each time he entered my throat, he moved deeper down its length and held me without access to oxygen for longer stretches.
While I could not stop myself from crying, I did gradually adjust to his invasion. Each time my lungs would feel close to exploding, I neared a state of panic, however. I was certain he would not free me in time, and I was desperate to have my arms and hands freed so I could push back from him. That was not to happen, however.
Eventually, his full length had gone inside me, and he held my nose to his body, his sac thwacking against my chin as he picked up a fucking rhythm deep in my throat. His balls tightened at long last, and his cock somehow lengthened even further just before his hot, sticky semen spurted into my throat.
When he released me, his softening cock had barely popped free from my abused mouth before he slapped me across the cheek. I let out a shout, and something else was shoved between my teeth, a gag of some sort, and its strap was fastened behind my head. Then I was dragged up from my knees and replaced on the cold metal chair.
“Slave 4653 deep throats, though is a novice,” the announcer voice said in his sedate tone. “Do we have any other questions at this time?”
A few murmurs rumbled through the crowd, but no one spoke up.
“We will remove the suction cups from the slave’s breasts and provide a demonstration of its masochistic nature, then.”
I felt, rather than saw, two men move before me. Each fiddled with one of the suction cups, and then they were gone. I moaned loudly into my gag, as my breasts were on fire. They felt hot, heavy, swollen, and insanely painful. I wanted to put my hands on them
, to hold them while the blood redistributed itself and settled back into place, to ease the pain in whatever small way I could, but my arms were still bound securely behind my back.
A hand took me by the neck from behind, pulling back so I was forced to lean awkwardly against the back of the chair. A metal ring came around my neck, attaching me to the back of the chair, so I remained at that crazy angle with my ass barely hanging onto the edge of the seat. With my legs bound as they were, and my arms, there was no way to steady myself. If I started to slip, I’d be putting all my weight on this ring around my neck. There were still so many spotlights I couldn’t see what was happening.
But I felt it. Something hot, stingingly hot, fell down onto my right breast. I screamed into my gag, and then the same happened to my left breast. Then it began to rain down over my chest at random. After the initial searing shock, it would cool and solidify. Wax. Hot wax. Good lord.
I jumped each time a drop of wax hit me and nearly strangled myself on the ring around my neck. And there was no way on earth I could stop myself from screaming with each bit of it, especially the closer the wax moved to my incredibly sensitive nipples. Still the wax kept coming, dribbling and dripping down onto my aching breasts, onto both of them at the same time, over and over and over again until they had to be practically coated with the stuff and it was streaming down my abdomen to harden in lines over my body.
“The nipples now, boys. Stop toying with her,” the announcer said.
I cringed, wincing before it hit, dreading the pain I knew was coming.
The heat singed both nipples at the same time and continued to come down in a steady stream, coating my areolas. I screamed into my gag the entire time, my body convulsing so that my ass slid off the chair and all my weight was tugging against the metal ring holding my neck in place.
It seemed to go on forever, never letting up, never easing. I could barely breathe, and that was when the most massive, powerful, all-consuming orgasm of my life struck me, washing in waves that forced my eyes to roll back into my head.
Then it all went black.
The next thing I knew, I was hanging by my wrists from something overhead. My ankles were bound to some sort of steel bar that kept them spread wide beneath me, and my toes just barely touched the floor…but I couldn’t move my legs at all, because the bar was locked into place. I still had the gag in my mouth, the spotlights were still blinding me, but the ropes were all gone, as were the dildos.
But an insane buzzing on my clit was pushing me toward another orgasm. I blinked and looked down, squinting to see if I could figure out what was going on. After a minute, I made out a masked man kneeling in front of me, holding a wand with a vibrating knob on the end right against my clit. My breasts and torso were still covered in wax—red wax that looked like blood—and I could only breathe if I pulled myself up by the wrists. If I just hung there, it was like my chest collapsed against my lungs and I couldn’t draw air in.
I moaned, because I was getting closer and closer to exploding in climax again. That must have alerted him to the fact that I was coherent again. He pulled the wand away from my clit and backed away. I lost him in the sea of lights.
My orgasm started to peter off, slipping away with a lack of stimulation. I just hung there, waiting for what was next, trying to breathe. Finally, I heard him stepping closer to me again. Or someone. I had no way of knowing if it was the same masked man or someone else because of those stupid spotlights.
The stinging falls of a flogger slapped hard over my breasts with no warning. I screamed again, jerking against my bonds, as a few bits of the wax broke off and fell to the floor beneath me. The next time, I heard the whoosh of the flogger swinging through the air before it struck. It landed directly over my right nipple, the falls spreading out over my entire aching breast. He swung again, striking the left breast. Again and again, stinging, screaming, aching blows landed upon my breasts. Each blow built the fire in my pussy up again, drawing me closer and closer to that orgasm I’d almost reached before.
When finally the wax was all gone, he continued to swing at my red, swollen, heavy breasts for several minutes. But then, without any indication that he was going to change his trajectory, the falls slashed between my thighs, landing against my sex and striking my overly sensitive clit. I think I screamed. I can’t be sure, because yet again my eyes rolled back into my head and I was out.
“We’ll start the bidding for Slave 4653 at fifty thousand, and go up in twenty-five thousand dollar increments.”
I was still foggy from that last orgasm, but I was starting to gain my bearings. The cold metal chair was beneath me again, with the ring around my neck. My legs were drawn apart and back, with my ankles shackled in place. My wrists, likewise, were pulled behind the chair and attached to something, making it impossible to move. With the blinding lights still beaming down on me, I knew that must mean my sex was gaping wide and on display for those looking at me.
“Do I have fifty thousand?”
A murmur. Shuffling feet.
“Fifty to the gentleman in front. Seventy-five?”
Cold air blew across my feverish body, leaving me shivering.
“Seventy-five to the left. A hundred thousand to the gentleman in blue. Do I have one twenty-five?”
I felt something between my thighs, something warm and hard, like a man. Then the buzzing. Good God, the buzzing. The wand was pressing against my clit again, and I jerked against my bonds. I was so damn sensitive that it hurt like crazy, but that didn’t stop another orgasm from building.
“One twenty-five in the front. One fifty in the blue. One seventy-five in the front.”
I moaned, and only then did I realize I wasn’t gagged. My sounds echoed in the cavernous room.
“Two hundred thousand to the gentleman to the left. Do I have two twenty-five?”
The angle of the magic wand changed, and I screamed, unable to stop the newest orgasm from crashing over me.
“One million dollars,” a deep, emotionless voice called out from the audience.
“A million dollars,” the announcer replied, cool as a cucumber. “Will anyone top that?”
My screams kept coming, as my climax seemed to give birth to a new climax. My legs shook and I tried desperately to close them, to force the wand away, but I couldn’t do anything.
“Going once. Going twice. Sold to the gentleman in the back for one million dollars.”
I was panting, and my ass had slipped off the edge of the chair again making it next to impossible to breathe, and still the wand kept buzzing on my clit. I screamed until my throat was raw, and still I kept screaming because the orgasm was seemingly never-ending.
“Thank you all for coming tonight. We will inform you of the next slave auction as information comes available. Will the winning bidder please come forward to finalize the necessary paperwork and to claim your slave?”
The spotlights were shut off, and voices and footsteps once again filled the room around me. Surely now, my tormentor would lay off the vibrator. But he didn’t. I tried to look down and see who it was, but I couldn’t move my head because of the ring on my neck.
My screams turned to panicked whimpers.
A man moved into my line of vision, and I thought maybe he was the winning bidder. Maybe he would come to force this man to remove the wand from my clit. But he also moved out of my line of sight, and then I felt strong hands lifting my hips, forcing me harder against the wand, grinding me up against it while it vibrated me into oblivion. Then another man came close, but he bent down behind my chair and reached both hands out to toy with my incredibly sore and swollen breasts. He pinched and slapped them, repeatedly twisting the nipples so hard I thought he would tear them off.
And still, I kept coming. My throat was so raw I thought I might have done permanent damage to my vocal chords. It sounded husky and gravelly, like a chain-smoker. Every inch of my body was screaming out in pain, twisted in knots of unending sexual fervor.
&nb
sp; Finally, I heard the voice again—the man who’d bought me. “That’ll do, boys.”
The hands left me. The wand stopped buzzing. I panted, trying to remember how to breathe like a human and wishing I could curl up in a ball.
He did not release me. He moved behind my chair and I felt a bottle at my lips. “Drink. You may not become dehydrated.”
I opened my mouth and let the cool liquid fall into it, coating my parched tongue and sliding down my insanely sore throat. After a few small swallows, he pulled the bottle away so I could breathe, then repeated the process. I stared up, trying to see what he looked like. Big. Broad. Tall. Dark hair and cold eyes. That was all I could make out in the state I was in and being pretty much upside down. Before long, I’d finished the entire bottle of water.
I heard it rattle against the wooden floor moments before I heard his zipper sliding downward.
The slick, bulbous head of his cock replaced the bottle at my lips. “You’ll spend the next five years repaying your debt to me. Start now by swallowing my cock.”
That was all the warning I got before he shoved it all the way down my throat in a single thrust. I choked, but he held his hands over my ears, preventing me from moving even the tiniest bit. He was bigger around than the previous man had been, with thick veins bulging against my tongue and the walls of my throat. And he was longer, forcing my throat to accept him and expand until it was pressing up against the metal ring holding me in place.
My eyes watered when he pulled out. With the angle the chair was forcing me into, there were no barriers preventing him from sending every bit of his length and girth into me as deep as he wanted to go. I’d barely refilled my lungs when he pressed back inside, then took up a fast paced fucking motion, slamming his hips into my head so hard I feared he might break my nose.
I was never able to take a full breath before his cock was once again blocking my airway. My lungs burned, and I felt panicky, struggling against my bonds. My movements merely caused the chair to slip free from its position, sliding a few inches forward. He followed, never slowing his pace. The chair moved across the floor with each of his forceful blows, until something sharp, the corner of something wooden and solid, pressed between my pussy lips and ground hard against my clit.
