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Chapter 9
You are really upset that I just walked away without a word
to you, not even a goodbye. The guy
instructs you to stand up and follow him.
He sets a fast pace as he quickly strides off down the corridor. You have difficulty keeping up because your
legs have been hobbled with the ankle chain, but the feeling of pain from your
ball sac being stretched; from him pulling the leash forces you to run as best
you can. You are led into a large room
where you can see other naked people; mostly women tethered to a horizontal
metal pole in the middle of the room.
The pole is attached to metal chains hanging from the ceiling and you
realise that the pole can be raised or lowered.
As you are led to the pole you also notice that each captive is chained
to the pole by either their breasts or genitals. You hope to God that they don’t intend to
raise the pole towards the ceiling. The
thought of your balls being stretched and pulled is not pleasant. You are placed in the middle of the group and
the leash is tied to the bar. He removes
the ball gag and then walks out of the room, leaving you with the other
captives for company.
You dare not speak as you do not know who may be listening,
and you don’t want to risk the inevitable punishment that would be inflicted if
you were caught. However, you take the
opportunity to look around you and also at the others held captive with
you. All the women are stunningly
beautiful. All have long hair, either
blonde or brunette, and big breasts.
Some are really slim, while others you are surprised to see, look a
little on the plump side, but you realise that not all guys like stick thin
girls and as you have found yourself in the past, girls with a bit of meat on
them don’t tend to be so in love with themselves, like the skinny model types
do. Bigger girls also for some reason
tend to be much more exciting in bed. As
your mind starts to drift off into daydreams about some of the things you have
done in bed with various girls your cock becomes rock hard. You are dying to have a wank
but with your hands cuffed behind your back you can’t do anything about
it. You also realise that if you are
seen by any of your captors with a hard on you will probably receive a
whipping, so to try and make it go limp quickly, you start checking out the
other guys.
The first thing you do is check out the size of their
cocks. It has nothing to do with
fancying guys but as men for some strange reason do, you all discreetly check
each other out when you go to the toilets for a piss to see who has the biggest
and smallest penis. Each guy hopes that
his is bigger than the guy stood next to him.
You wince slightly as you see that one guy has a large ring pierced
through the end of his cock. He has a leash
attached to it, which is chained to the bar.
You are glad that I never did that to you. The only other guy, like you has a collar
round his scrotum and is chained the same way to the bar. The guy chained like you is skinny and really
pale skinned. He looks about 50 years
old. You don’t think he will fetch a
very good price, if he is sold at all.
You can’t imagine any woman wanting to buy him. The other guy with the pierced cock is around
30 years old, about 6feet tall, and very muscular. He obviously does weight training. Like you, he is tanned and his body has been
oiled. This guy you know will fetch a
really high price.
You suddenly realise that if I am selling you I will have
the money to buy another slave. What if
I am attending the auction? You know
that the fit guy is bound to be the type I like. What if I buy him? You are gutted as you realise that you are
going to end up as some gay guy’s whore, while I will probably take home the
fit guy. You start imagining all the
things I will probably do with him, and how he will get to eat my pussy every
day while all you will have to look forward to is sucking some disgusting guy’s
cock or rimming his arsehole. You can
feel the jealousy building up inside you.
You don’t want any other guy touching me. You’re my slave and you don’t want anyone
else taking your place. You are really
mad with yourself as you realise it is too late, you fucked up big time and now
you have lost me. Already you hate the
other guy even though the poor guy hasn’t done anything. The only consolation as far as you can see,
is that he may have bigger muscles than you but he sure as hell hasn’t got a
bigger cock!
After you have been standing there for about two hours, the
door opens and several men and women come into the room. They are all smartly dressed, as if they are
here for a formal dinner. The women are
wearing long evening gowns and the men dinner suits. Without thinking about what you are doing you
lift your head to look at them. A
stinging sensation on your arse from a whip reminds you where you are and you
quickly drop your head again to look at the floor. You realise that these are prospective buyers
as they all start poking and prodding at you and the other slaves. You are made to open your mouth while your
teeth are inspected.
‘Mmm nice and white, and very
even. I like that in a slave. I can’t stand having a slave with bad teeth
eating my pussy’.
You feel sick as the woman who said it must be at least
65. The thought of eating a dried up old
prune of a pussy or fucking it is disgusting.
A steward steps forward and whispers in the old crone’s ear.
‘Oh, that’s disappointing.
He is only to be sold to a Master because of his aggressive
outbursts. I’m sure I could have tamed
him!’
Thank God she won’t
get the chance is
what you’re thinking. You feel even
sicker when you are ordered to bend over as rough hands – obviously a guy’s –
squeeze your arse cheeks and a finger is roughly inserted into your anus.
When you stand up straight again you are shocked to see me
standing in front of you. I look
stunning in a dark red velvet evening dress.
The dress is strapless and my pert breasts are pushed up showing a
generous cleavage, which you would love to bury your head in if you had the
chance. I have a black fur stole draped
over my shoulders and am wearing long black gloves. You instantly get a hard on. You catch my eye and open your mouth to beg
me to take you home, but before you can speak I walk past you and stop in front
of the muscular guy.
‘Wow!’ you hear me exclaim.
‘Where did this slave come from?
I have never seen such a fantastic specimen in my life. And what a huge cock! Much bigger than the pathetic cock I had to
put up with in my last slave. And a cock
ring as well. I can just imagine how
good that will feel inside my cunt. I wonder if I can afford him?’
You notice that the guy also gets a hard on when he looks at
me. That really pisses you off. You are so jealous when you hear me talk
about him. How can I say he has a huge
cock and yours is pathetic? You are sure
that yours is much bigger than his! And
I have never complained about your performance in bed. Maybe I am just trying to make you jealous,
you hope I am anyway. When you see me
stroking his cock and feeling his balls you feel so angry and jealous you want
to explode. If only you had your hands
free, you would punch the bastard and take that stupid grin off his face. You would also cut off his cock if you had a
knife! Unfortunately, you can’t do
either. You are forced to stand there
silently and listen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eventually once you have all been inspected the guests leave
the room. When the door has been shut
behind the last one you are all untethered from the
pole. The chains are removed from your wrist
and ankle cuffs and you are all instructed to spread your legs wide and clasp
your hands behind your heads. Tempting
as it is to use your free hands to punch the guy, who through no fault of his
own has pissed you off; you know that it would be a really stupid thing to do. After all, you are here because you couldn’t
control your temper.
Some clothes are thrown at your feet and you are ordered to
dress in them. You look down in
disbelief as you see the outfit that has been thrown at you. It is a French maid’s outfit. It consists of a short black dress that will
only just cover your arse, and a frilly white apron. There are also hold up stockings and stiletto
shoes to complete the outfit. You are
mortified at the thought of having to wear it but know that you have no choice. As you reluctantly start dressing you notice
that the skinny old guy also has a maid’s outfit to wear, but his is pink. At least you don’t have that indignity you
think. But hang on a minute the fit guy
is putting on trousers! Where the fuck
is his maid’s outfit? You are madder
than ever as you stand there feeling incredibly stupid in your dress and
stockings while the fit guy looks like a stud wearing tight black trousers and
a bow tie round his neck. He doesn’t
even have a slave collar on! You are
gutted when the steward tells you that the outfits you are wearing have been
chosen by your current owners. You can’t
believe that I would deliberately make you wear something like this. I must really hate you to want to publicly
humiliate you this way.
‘Now slaves listen carefully. Your duty tonight is to serve our guests in
the dining room. You must bear in mind
that any one of these guests may become your new owner. So you should take this opportunity to
present yourselves in the best possible way.
If you fail to do so, you will be severely punished. You will also fail to attract anyone to buy
you. If that happens, and you remain
unsold at the auction, if your current owners don’t want to take you home you
will be shipped out to Eastern Europe or the Far East where you will live out
the rest of your lives as whores and prostitutes. That also means you males. If you end up as prostitutes, don’t think for
a minute you won’t be fucking women or become male escorts for rich women with
too much time on their hands. You will
spend the rest of your miserable lives being arse fucked by dirty old men. So I repeat, all of you make sure you do your best to
impress. Now stand in single file so
that your hands can be re-cuffed in front of you.’
All you can think of as a long length of chain is attached
to your wrist cuffs, is how the hell are you going to impress anyone dressed
like a fucking transvestite? But you
already know that you are going to be auctioned off to a Master. Maybe that’s why you’re dressed like a tart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You are marched to the kitchens where you are each given a
large serving dish each to carry to the dining room. You find it hard to balance on your high
heels. You’ve never worn anything like
them before, and now know what it must be like for women who have to wear them
all the time, just because their guy likes to see them wearing stilettos. You are starting to have some sympathy for
what women go through just to please their men.
When you get to the dining room your job is to serve the food onto each
guest’s plate. You don’t think this will
be too much of a problem, as you have been served often enough by the stewards
in the Officers mess on board ship. You
have seen how they serve the food and are pretty confident you can copy them.
When you reach the dining room with the others you and the
other guy dressed as maids are greeted with laughter by the guests. Your face burns with shame and humiliation as
you know how ridiculous you must look.
You don’t look up from the floor as you couldn’t bear to see me laughing
at you, until a shove in your back forces you forward to start serving.
Slowly you walk towards the long dining table and start
serving each guest. As you lean over the
old woman who had been lusting after you earlier, you feel her put her hand up
your skirt reach between your open legs and squeeze your balls. Although you want to push her hand away you
know that if you do, you will be severely whipped or worse. You have to just stand there while she gropes
you, and then smacks you on the butt sending you on your way to serve the next
guest. You are groped quite a lot while
serving the various guests. Each time
you are fondled by a guy you involuntarily clench your buttocks and grit your
teeth. Eventually you reach me. You hope that you will be able to whisper
discreetly in my ear, and beg me to take you home, but would you believe it the
fit guy reaches me at the same time, carrying a bottle of red wine. I completely ignore you and reward him with a
big smile, while running my hands over his muscular chest and patting his butt
when he leans over to fill my glass with wine.
You have no choice but to serve me without speaking and then move on. You are upset that I have dismissed you so
easily, but there is nothing you can do about it.
When the meal is over and you and the other slaves have
cleared away the dirty plates, you are ordered to wash up in the kitchen, and
when finished to wash the kitchen floor on your hands and knees with a
scrubbing brush. The other slaves are
given various other demeaning tasks to complete, or so you think anyway. When you have completed washing the floor,
your back is aching from being bent over for so long. As you stand up you realise that your
stockings have holes in them from kneeling on the stone floor. Shit! you should have knelt on a towel or
something to stop them being hitched.
Now you’re in trouble. You are
too scared to return to the drawing room where all the guests have gathered, as
you are supposed to do. If they see
you……… Instead you wait in the kitchen for a steward to come and find you,
hoping that he will give you the chance to explain. When one of the stewards does come looking
for you he is not in a good mood.
‘You no good piece of shit, you are supposed to be finished
in the kitchen by now. You should be in
the drawing room serving drinks to the guests, now get your
fucking arse in there before I whip you’.
Then he notices your torn stockings. ‘How dare you ruin the outfit specially given
to you by your Mistress. You are so fucking ungrateful, you look like
a whore. No wonder she is getting rid of
you. You must be such a disappointment
to her. Now take the outfit off, you
don’t deserve to wear anything at all.
From now on you will remain completely naked’.
Although scared at what is probably going to happen next,
you are actually grateful to remove the sissy outfit. You would rather be naked in front of
everyone than look like a transvestite.
What you didn’t realise though was that you will be naked except for
your shoes.
When you have folded the clothes neatly and put the
stilettos back on your feet you are ordered to clasp your hands behind your
head and are then pulled by your ball ring leash into the drawing room. The room becomes silent as the guests notice
you being pulled into the centre of the room.
I glance up from the leather armchair that I have been reclining in and
see that it is you who is the cause of the hushed silence. I push away the fit slave (who you have
jealously noted has been kneeling at my side, massaging and licking my feet). I am not happy. You just never learn. The steward approaches me out of respect
because I am still your owner at the present time.
‘What has he done Ed?
If he has disobeyed an order he must be punished. He knows that he must obey all orders
immediately and without hesitation’.
‘Well ma’am’ the steward replies ‘he hasn’t actually
disobeyed an order. He has shown
disrespect to you by making holes in his stockings while he was on his hands
and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor.
Would you like me to whip him here for your entertainment, or would you
prefer me to take this worthless slut to the slaves
quarters for punishment?’
I sit there for a while considering what to do with
you. I am relieved that you have not
disobeyed an order, and I realise that it would not have occurred to you what
would happen to your stockings if you knelt on a rough stone floor with them
on. After all, you are a guy and as far
as I am aware, you have never worn them before.
‘No Ed, no whipping.
He would not deliberately have ruined his uniform to disrespect me. I think instead he needs to learn to be more
careful when he is on his hands and knees.
Fetch him a new pair of stockings.’
Hearing this exchange of conversation you are extremely
relieved that you are not going to be whipped, although you can hear murmurs of
disapproval from other guests who think that I am being too lenient with
you. Some of the guests there are
complete sadists and would use the slightest excuse to whip you into
unconsciousness, just for their own pleasure.
You are grateful to me for my leniency against the obvious disapproval
from others. How you wish you were
coming home with me. What is going to
happen if you are bought by a really sadistic Master? You raise your eyes from looking at the floor
to give me a small smile to show me that you are grateful, but I have already
turned my head away from you and am laughing at something the guest sat next to
me has whispered in my ear.
When the steward returns you are given a new pair of
stocking to put on. I can’t help but
turn my attention back to you as I am curious to see you sliding a pair of silk
hold up stockings over your muscular hairy legs. You look ridiculous and I can’t help smiling
to myself. I can see from your flushed
face that you are also aware of how ridiculous you look, especially when you
slip the stilettos back on your feet.
When you have finished you stand as straight as you can and without being
told clasp your hands behind your head again.
You hope that I will notice how eager you are to please. A sudden thwack across the back of your knees
with a cane, makes your legs collapse and you fall to the floor face down as
you lose your balance. You remain
sprawled out on the floor, not daring to move until you are given permission to
rise. The steward kindly helps you to
your knees by grabbing the back of your collar and yanking you up, choking you
in the process. You start coughing and
struggling to breathe as he maintains his grip on the collar, pulling it tight
against your throat. You can feel
yourself starting to lose consciousness from the lack of oxygen getting to your
brain.
‘Okay Ed, that’s enough.
If you strangle him, I won’t get much money for him at the auction on
Friday will I?’
Ed abruptly lets go and you collapse again taking in deep breaths
trying to get as much oxygen in to your lungs as possible. When you have calmed down you quickly get to
your knees and adopt a submissive position, with your hips thrust forward to
display your cock, and your hands clasped behind you head, while your head is
bowed. You don’t want Ed to pull you up
again, and you daren’t move yourself unless you are showing your complete
submission to me.
‘Enjoy that did you slave?’ asks Ed with a sneer. ‘You may get used to that if Master Peterson
buys you. He just loves to control the
breathing of his slaves. He gets a real
kick out of it. He makes his slaves wear
leather hoods that have only openings for the eyes and mouth. A tube is inserted into the mouth for the
slaves to breathe through, but the tube is attached to a small oxygen tank that
they have to carry strapped to their backs.
It has a timer that shuts off the oxygen for different lengths of
time. He loves to see how long he can
make them go without any oxygen at all, and to see the terror in their eyes as
they struggle for breath. I did hear
that the first few slaves he kept died while he was perfecting the
technique. He left them without oxygen
for too long and they……..’
As you listen to this in horror I cut him off ‘That will do
Ed, you’re making me feel ill at the thought of it. Now go and make my slave do
something useful. I don’t want him
kneeling there with nothing to do’.
Actually the thought of you being purchased by someone like
Master Peterson has made me feel uneasy.
While I have been at the house this evening I have listened to numerous
stories from other owners of the various tortures they have inflicted on their
slaves. I hadn’t realised just how many
sadists there are in this country, and some of the stories have truly horrified
me. I can understand the need to punish
slaves for being disobedient or wilful, in order to teach them
lessons, but hearing stories of branding slaves and burning or maiming them is
too horrific to think about. I had felt
ashamed of myself for the terrible whipping I had given you, when that level of
punishment hadn’t been deserved, but I have come to realise that it was nothing
compared to what other slaves are routinely being put through.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your new task is to act as a coffee table with drinks being
balanced on a tray placed on your back.
Your duty is to crawl around the room on your hands and knees so that
guests may help themselves to drinks and place empty glasses onto the tray as
you pass by. You crawl very slowly and
carefully round the room so as not to spill any drinks or knock over any
glasses. You are also conscious of
trying to not rip holes in your new stockings.
Although you feel humiliated at crawling around in front of so many
people, you are relieved that you haven’t been given the same task as the 50
year old skinny guy. He has been
strapped face up on the real coffee table.
His arms and legs are tied to the four legs of the table and his head is
hanging over the edge. A bucket has been
placed under his head. His job is to
give oral pleasure to any of the guests who want it, man or woman; he must
either eat pussies or suck cocks, depending on who wants to use him. The bucket is to catch any juices, sperm or
piss that drip from his face. What you
aren’t aware of yet is that at the end of the evening the slaves will be given
the contents of the bucket to drink as their bedtime nightcap.
If the skinny guy has the worst job then ‘Mr Muscles’ as you
have nicknamed him has by far been given the best job. He is still kneeling at my feet giving them
all his attention with his tongue, while I lean back in the chair with a smile
of contentment on my face. You grit your
teeth and fight back the anger inside you.
You don’t want anyone else touching my feet. They are yours alone to give pleasure
to. You had resigned yourself to being
sold, when I first broke the news to you, and you accepted my decision knowing
that you would never see me again. But
how on earth are you supposed to accept things when I am sitting there in front
of you letting another man – with a much smaller cock
slobber all over me! You feel depressed
and bitter. You know it is your own
fault that you have been brought to this point in your life. Okay, you didn’t volunteer to be a slave so
that isn’t your fault but you should have just accepted it and got on with
doing your best from the start. It is
your temper that has brought you here to the auction house. So you fight back the anger inside you and
try not to think about the beating you would love to give Mr Muscles. If I want him, there is nothing you can do
about it.
With a sigh and a heavy heart, you continue crawling around
the room until the guests are ready to leave.
The tray is removed from your back and you are ordered to stand up and
go to the cloakroom to fetch the guests’ coats.
You help the men on with their coats and the ladies with their capes as
instructed. You realise that as you are
the only slave with this task, you will have to help me put my cape on. When it is my turn I turn my back to you and
remove the fur stole from my shoulders.
You can immediately see the livid welts creeping out of the top of the
dress, and you realise that this is why I have worn the fur stole all
evening. I couldn’t let the other guests
see them. Feeling bad again about what
you did, you gently lift the cape over my shoulders and fasten the clasp at my
neck. Up close to me you can smell the
perfume that you adore and traces of shampoo from my freshly washed hair. It sends a shiver down your spine and your
cock hardens as your fingers brush my bare skin. God, how you want me! If you could turn the clock back you would
never have left the first time around. You would have made sure you kept in touch
with me when you were free.
Your hands drop reluctantly to your sides as I move away
from you. Without turning round to
acknowledge you or to say goodbye I walk out to the waiting taxi. You are deeply hurt by that. You won’t be seeing me again and you thought
I would at least say goodbye and wish you luck at the auction. I obviously don’t care about you at all. That thought depresses you even more. You don’t know that the reason I didn’t speak
or turn around was because I was near to tears knowing what I am putting you
through. I don’t want you to know that I
do care what happens to you.
When all the guests have left your hands are again cuffed
behind your back the same as all the other slaves and you are ordered to kneel in
a circle in the drawing room. There you
are ordered to open your mouths while a cup is dipped into the bucket full of
disgusting body fluids and the contents poured into each of your mouths. All the other slaves like you gag while
trying to force the bitter slimy liquid down their throats, each of you
terrified of being sick knowing that any vomit will be added to the mixture to
be consumed.
Finally you are led to the slave quarters where thin and
well worn mattresses have been thrown on the floor. There aren’t however enough mattresses for
the number of slaves being bedded down for the night. To your horror you are forced to lie on the
same mattress as Mr Muscles, face to face with a short chain linking your ball
collar to his cock ring. You can see by
the expression on his face, that he isn’t too keen on this sleeping arrangement
either. Little do you realise you will
spend most of the week linked to this guy by your genitals……..
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