Gone

Part 3

Gone



Part Three

	Upon hearing this, Molly's heart sank. It was a miserable thought,
knowing that she would be sold to some stranger, as an object caught up in an
evil and immoral business. She could not even begin to fathom the horrors that
awaited her upon reaching her new home-a sleazy, run-down apartment building in
New York? An ancient castle perched high atop a jagged black mountain peak in
Scotland, owned by a lustful old king? There was an endless list of potential
locations Molly could end up at the end of her hellish odyssey.

	Leonard, who was still balanced upon her chest, produced a rag from his
back pocket and wiped it across her face, interrupted her thoughts. The semen
he'd unloaded on the girl had yet to dry, and came off in the form of slimy
globs. Molly did not speak, nor cry, nor whimper. She sat motionless, glad to
have the disgusting fluid removed from her body. Slowly, the last degrading
traces of semen were cleaned from her skin and the rag was discarded. Then, the
process of removing Molly from her restraint began. The knife appeared, that
ever-effective blade, slicing the duct tape from her wrists; a key appeared,
releasing the shackles around her ankles. Although still in Leonard's
possession, Molly felt free.

	Leonard, without so much as a word to the girl, walked to the door and
opened it. The way he turned his head toward her and stood off to the side
implied that they were both leaving the room, and that Molly was to lead. She
obeyed without question, slowly making her way from the center of the room,
being stopped by Leonard as she passed him. He took her wrist and held his
clenched fist above it, indicating that she open her hand palm-up. Like usual,
she saw no option other than to obey, and Leonard handed her a small pill.
Without even a word, he pushed her through the open door. The cement was cold
beneath Molly's soft bare feet and the icy shadows seemed to claw at her nude
body. Leonard, after closing and locking the door, pulled Molly so she was
facing him. He closely watched her put the pill in her mouth and swallow it,
before taking hold of both of her wrists. She made no attempt to resist as he
produced a pair of handcuffs and slapped them on her, binding her hands together
once more. After securing the shackles, he looked into her face. "Just in case."

	The remainder of the building showcased the same miserable drab ambiance
as the first few hallways had. The activity here seemed to be perpetual, as the
few windows Molly passed displayed the same bustling activity that she had seen
the first time she'd walked these deteriorated hallways. The walk was long, a
ten-minute or so trudge through the dismal structure, with the same monotonous
view of closed doors to her left and the occasional window to her right.

	Leonard stopped her before a heavy, dark brown door, with an aura of
intimidation about it similar to that of a gateway leading into another
dimension. "Since duct tape is usually the favorite among the buyers in terms of
gags, that's what I'll be using to exhibit you." Molly was angered by his word
choice-he was going to exhibit her like an object, a toy of high visual sex
appeal. Though her blood was still boiling, she was powerless and accepted it,
closing her mouth so the tape could be applied to her face.

	With that done, Leonard opened the door, revealing to Molly the room
beyond. The first thing she noticed was the line of chairs. About nine were
lined up in a single row against the wall to the left of her, a space between
two of the chairs so the door could be accessed.

	Then, there were the machines in front of the chairs. There were two of
them, identical in appearance. Closer examination revealed that they were not
machines at all. There were two hassocks, each upholstered with crimson velvet.
Behind each hassock was a set of stocks, in front of each hassock was a pair of
adjustable leather straps anchored to the floor. Above each hassock hung a heavy
metal chain from an iron ring that was bolted to the ceiling. Beneath each
hassock was also a large pillow, its case the same material as the kind the
hassock was upholstered with.

	Leonard led the girl toward the hassocks. "Kneel on one of the hassocks,
facing the chairs. Your knees should be on the hassock, your ankles in the holes
in the stocks. Slowly, Molly approached the hassock, her shepherd following
close behind. As her hands were manacled together in front of her, Molly was
able to climb onto the hassock on all fours, and then crawl backwards slowly
until both ankles were resting in the curve of the holes in the bottom part of
the stocks. Satisfied with their position, Leonard closed the stocks and locked
it, holding Molly's feet in place. Then, he moved to the front of her and took
the small length of chain on the handcuffs holding her wrists together. Gently,
he coaxed her wrists upward until she was kneeling completely upright and her
arms were pulled straight, and put the chain into the metal 'U' part of an open
MASTER lock. Then, he hooked the lock around a high link of the heavy chain
hanging from the ceiling, effectively making it so Molly could not relax even a
small amount. Leonard moved in front of her and looked at her. It was a
beautiful sight, her soft tan face complimented by the nervous look in her eyes,
and especially complimented by the silver strip of tape pressed across her
dainty mouth. Leonard was especially pleased with the way he could make out the
impression of her lips through the gag, the way the curves of her mouth were
visible through the tape. And what he loved even more was that her wrists were
handcuffed high above her head, but she so desperately wished to remove the
tape. Leonard had restricted her movement, restricted her very freedom. She was
his prisoner, and he loved her helplessness. It was so sexy. A glistening sweat
was forming gradually on her nude body. She feared him. He had proven to Molly
that he was her master, and that he could-and would-do what he wanted with her.

	Molly hung her head in shame, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to
look upon her body. It renewed the humiliation she felt for being so exposed.
Leonard thought for a moment, thinking about the physical appearance of the men
that would be the potential buyers of the young woman. His words came
cautiously, and when they did, the question surprised him. "Would you like a
blindfold?" It was a meager stab at being humane, but it would do. It would
prevent Molly from seeing the men for at least a little while, but eventually
they would want to see it off.

	Molly looked up at him and nodded weakly, then watched him step back and
look around. "Hm... I believe there's one in the preparation room. I'll be right
back." He turned and exited through the door they had just entered, leaving
Molly in shackles and alone. She thought for a moment, now that all was silent
except for the dull roar of the machinery outside. She had gone to her friend
Jenna's house. Jenna had been forced to trick her into doing so. They had both
been kidnapped. Molly had been stripped and masturbated on, brought to a room,
then placed in shackles in order to be sold. The cold metal of the handcuffs bit
into her wrists once more, taunting her. Holding her hands high; exposing her;
keeping her from covering her private parts.

	The door opened suddenly and Jenna was pushed in, followed by Greg. She
too was nude, probably the victim of a semen bath as well, except she bore light
red marks upon her cheek and her eyes were puffy and red. A duct tape gag had
been applied to her, along with handcuffs, like Molly. It seemed that there was
an accepted method among these kidnappers.

	The two women met eyes for a moment, both too fearful to feel
embarrassed about the other's nakedness. Jenna was then shoved roughly over to
the hassock beside Molly. "Kneel on the hassock with your ankles in the holes of
the stocks." Greg set down a duffel bag similar to Leonard's and walked over to
the stocks. Jenna meekly obeyed his command, gently lowering herself upon the
hassock and placing her ankles in position. Greg pushed the top part down and
secured her ankles, then violently yanked the poor girl's hands into position
and locked them to the chain dangling above them. Greg was much more abusive
than Leonard had been-the way he jerked the handcuffs up almost certainly
would've drawn blood, but surprisingly it didn't.

	As Molly watched, Greg stood in front of her and looked down at Jenna's
prone tit. Gently, with an abrupt personality change, he reached out and stroked
her soft cleavage kindly, running his fingers around her nipple cautiously then
cupping his hand over her breast and carefully massaging it. "You know,
Jenna..." His voice was calm and soothing, almost like Leonard's. "...In the
future, if you resist the way you did while I was preparing you, you're not
going to make it very far." At the end of the sentence, he scowled angrily, his
eyes ignited with flames, and clenched crushingly on her boob. The girl yelped
and released a prolonged wail into the tape that lasted until he released it.
The cleavage was now red, surrounded by five small indents where Greg's
fingernails had dug into her soft flesh. She drooped her head and began crying
softly, her body jerking with every sob. Greg smiled sadistically-it was an evil
smile, like the grin of a villain-while he watched her cry. He seemed amused
that she was hanging her head, but soon lost interest and found something new to
do.

	He kneeled behind Jenna with his gaze locked on her feet. They were
locked in the stocks, well immobilized. His eyes followed the curve of her arch,
along the rounded heel, then back along the sole of her foot to her toes. His
eyes studied each one, starting with her big toe and moving to the little toe.
"Yeah, you've got really cute feet..." He looked upon the bare foot for a moment
before sticking out his tongue and drawing it from the ball her foot along the
arch, to the heel. Molly noticed Jenna didn't so much as flinch while Greg's
tongue caressed her foot, but suspected that she'd wanted to. It appeared to be
quite a ticklish sensation.

	Greg pulled his head back and put his hand up his shirt, wiping her sole
off with the makeshift rag. When it was cleaned off of his saliva, Greg stood
and his attention shifted to Molly. She had been watching attentively, her head
turned in the direction of her friend and her eyes locked on Greg's face. She
quickly looked away as Jenna's aggressor now looked over Molly's body from head
to toe. And his gaze lingered on her soles, locked in place in the stocks,
vulnerable to his unquenchable lust for feet. "Hm...who are you?" Greg strolled
casually over to Molly, looking now at her face. She had turned her head away
from the man, but nonetheless he stopped so his body was facing hers, making no
attempt to walk into her line of sight. He instead took her chin between his
thumb and forefinger and turned her head toward him, slowly, as if to admire
every crease and curve of her face while it moved. "You two are in High School,
aren't you?"

	Greg still held her chin, but Molly was able to nod gently. Her head
wasn't able to move an exceptional amount, but it was enough to get her message
across.

	"I remember High School. Those were the fun years...let me tell you a
story." Molly remained quiet, her eyes on his. In her peripheral vision, she
could see that Jenna was also looking up at Greg. "In the winter, all the cuties
like you bundled up real tight-you wore your little sweaters and long pants and,
worst of all, shoes. It wasn't a very good way to see women dressed. Then...ohh
yes, then summer came around. In High School, that is a great time of the year.
Hot teenage women dressed in short shorts, tight t-shirts, and flip-flops. You
both wear flip-flops in the summer, don't you?"

	Molly and Jenna both nodded. "And in class, do you sit in the front row,
or somewhere within the first few rows?" Another synchronized nod from the two
terrified women. "You teenage women have great habits. Think about this: you're
sitting in class. You're bored, absent-mindedly playing with your flip-flops.
You slip them off, you 'sit on your tip-toes', if you will. The pretty soles of
your feet are now revealed to everyone sitting behind you. Your toes roll over,
so now the tops of them are against the floor. Now, every inch of your bare sole
is exposed to everyone sitting behind you. They're scrunched up, wrinkled
beautifully, and everyone behind you can see them. Everyone. And I can guarantee
AT LEAST one of the people behind you was looking at those bare, beautiful feet.
Daydreaming about touching them, smelling them, licking them. And when I was in
High School, I was one of those people. I would gaze longingly at them from the
moment they appeared to the moment they were pushed back into their flip-flops.
Tell me Molly, if a guy came up to you and offered to give you a free foot
massage, would you let him? A guy you don't know, who will rub your feet for
absolutely free. He won't ask you on a date, he won't ask for sex afterward, he
just wants to rub your feet. Would you allow him this one desire?"

	Molly thought for a moment, considering the men she'd seen at her school
but never known. She would think it quite odd, but as it had never happened, she
didn't have a straight answer. Therefore, she spoke an "I don't know" into the
gag. It was muffled, but the sound was enough to express Molly's answer. Greg,
with his right hand still holding her chin, lifted her head so she was looking
directly at him again and shook his head. "That isn't an answer. Yes or no."

	This time, her answer was a 'no'. She didn't want a strange guy rubbing
her body...it just seemed too intimate. She shook her head lightly. Greg
released her chin and, with his left hand, brought it across her face. The blow
startled Molly and she yelped in surprise. Before she even began crying, Greg
had her by the throat, slightly lower than he'd been holding her chin but not
low enough as to choke her. Tears trickled down her face but she did not sob, as
she was in a state of temporary shock.

	"It's cunts like you that made my High School years such torment." His
voice was raised and irritated. "You fucking whores wear your little flip-flops
and show off those pretty little feet of yours. But when a guy asks you if he
can touch your feet, he's the jerk. You think your feet are royal property, too
good for anyone but your stupid dumbass jock boyfriends." Greg seemed to become
amused-his voice calmed and that evil grin returned to his face. "If you were
sitting in class and I leaned down and touched your feet, or licked them, you
would move them. And you would spread around the school that I was a freak. A
weirdo. Looks like I get to have my revenge, Molly." He released her throat and
stepped behind her, his vision aimed downward. She knew what he was looking at.
"You can't move your feet. I can touch them all I want and you can't move them.
And I have nothing to worry about, because I don't have to worry about what you
and your preppy little friends think of me. I own you."

	The door opened suddenly, startling Molly, who was deeply concentrating
on Greg's speech. Greg turned his head and watched as Leonard stepped in. The
two men met eyes and Leonard motioned to the open door with his head. "Clark
wants the pictures you took of Jenna. Besides, the auction starts in a few
minutes. I gotta finish prepping Molly."

	Greg looked back down at Molly's face, then leaned forward so his ear
was beside hers. "Those pretty little feet of yours will be mine, soon..." His
whisper was cold and lustful, tinted by the tone of promise. He stepped away and
collected his bag, then was out the door without a word. Leonard closed the
heavy wood door behind him, removing a bandanna from his back pocket while
turning to Molly. As he approached, his eyes narrowed on her face. The tears
were still trickling down her face and her cheek stung as Leonard reached up and
lightly grazed it with his fingers.

	"Did Greg hit you?" Molly was slightly soothed by his voice, knowing
that he wouldn't strike her the way his friend had. She nodded slowly. "How many
times? Once?" Another nod. Leonard shook his head disappointingly. "God damn
him. I've told the administration, but Greg's a good kidnapper. I agree with
them there, but I hate the way he bruises the merchandise." He stepped around
behind the shackled woman, twisting the bandanna. "All right Molly, close your
eyes."

	She did so, and suddenly, it was like she was in the bag in the van. The
auction room disappeared, replaced by a shroud of blackness. The bandanna was
pulled tightly around her head, then tied in back. The knot was a solid bump in
the back of her head, a tight ball that assured Molly that it would not come
undone.



	With Molly squared away, Leonard stepped around the front of her to
admire the view. Of course, Molly looked even sexier with the dark blue bandanna
on, and Leonard received another wave of stimulation upon recognizing that he
could do anything he wanted to her and she wouldn't see, only feel...but no, the
auction would start soon. He moved to Jenna and looked her over, noticing in
particular that her handcuffs were locked to the hanging chain much higher than
they should've been. Her hands were becoming quite discolored and, Leonard
assumed, quite numb. "Did you struggle against Greg while he was stripping you?"

	The girl nodded a few times, her black hair flowing gently back and
forth. Leonard knew what had happened. "Fucking Christ...your wrists are way too
high. They must hurt by now." Jenna moaned softly, a pitiful whine through her
gag. Leonard pulled out his keys and reached to the lock. "I'm only going to do
this for you if you keep your hands up. If you cooperate, I'll lower your hands,
but they still have to be handcuffed to the chain. If a girl struggles while
he's preparing her, Greg tends to get pretty pissed off and put the lock a
little too high." Jenna nodded, clearly grateful to Leonard's amiable attitude,
as opposed to Greg's abusive disposition. He slid the key into the mechanism in
the bottom of the lock, turned it, and the lock popped off. When reaching for
the lock, it slipped off the chain and fell to the floor with a loud thud. He
noticed Molly jump and look in their direction, but with the blindfold across
her eyes, she couldn't see anything. "Don't worry, Molly. I'm not hurting your
friend."

	Jenna gently lowered herself down on the backs of her calves, rather
than having her knees bent at a ninety-degree angle. While Leonard leaned over
to pick the lock up, Jenna lowered her hands cautiously, setting them on her
knees. As her hands were in such a tiring position, Leonard didn't reprimand her
for doing so. "All right, lift 'em up so you're sitting the way you were before,
but put your hands in a better location." Jenna complied, raising her body once
again and lifting her arms above her head, slightly lower than they had been
before. Leonard took the length of chain and locked it into the heavier chain
hanging from the ceiling and stepped back to admire his work. Jenna looked far
more comfortable in terms of physical orientation, and whoever bought her
wouldn't have to see the deep handcuff marks in her wrists. That was one thing
about Leonard-he could kidnap the women without a second thought, rape them
until his balls shriveled up, but he always tried to keep his women in good
condition until they were sold. Then it was no longer his problem. And
considering he would be traveling with the women wherever they were sold to, he
wanted to keep Molly in good order so he could enjoy her later, without the time
limit he was oppressed by in the preparation room.

	Before leaving, he remembered one final thing. He reached to his back
pocket and pulled out a second blindfold, which he'd retrieved for Jenna.
"Jenna, tilt your head forward. I'm going to blindfold you." He spoke while
spinning the bandanna between his hands, watching her obediently bow her head.
The cloth eagerly covered her eyes, then wrapped around her soft black hair.
Leonard, after tying the blindfold, stood back and admired the two women in
shackles before him. Alone, Molly or Jenna's naked bound bodies were
irresistible. Together, the sight was an indescribable one, a pair of kidnapped
beauties helpless to save themselves. Yes, Leonard looked forward to having
them, and his time away from the dock would be memorable.



	Molly could only make out a dim light beneath her blindfold, but the
sliver of light was not enough to reveal anything to her. She heard Leonard
moving away from them after blindfolding Jenna, toward the center of the room,
then the door opened. At first, she thought Leonard had left the two alone, but
was quickly confirmed incorrect upon hearing an unfamiliar voice. "Are they
ready?"

	There was a pause-she assumed that Leonard was looking them over
again-before he spoke. "Yeah. Greg handcuffed that one too high up on the chain,
so I had to lower the lock. Other than that, they're good to go."

	"All right, I'll tell the guys that we're ready to begin the pre-auction
look over." Molly heard Clark exit the room, and Leonard moved away, and then
there was silence. Molly heard him go to the wall, but didn't hear him exit the
room. Instead, the chamber became silent except for Leonard's quiet breathing
and the louder breathing noises the women made through their noses.

	Suddenly, Molly heard a door open. It wasn't the one that lead back to
the preparation rooms, it sounded more like the one ahead of her. And that was,
indeed, the case. She heard Clark walk in, and what sounded like an unknown
number of other men following behind him. "These two were taken just a couple
hours ago. The one on the left is Jenna-a seventeen-year-old, very cute. The one
on the right is Molly Mathias-the daughter of Daniel Mathias, owner of the
Polaris Shipping Corporation. Seventeen also. They are thought to be virgins-is
this correct, ladies?"

	Molly nodded, not knowing how she could benefit from saying she wasn't.
It was a personal question that she didn't think some stranger should be asking
her-but at this point, she was almost accustomed to having her privacy violated
in one way or another. She felt a man approach her slowly, probably looking over
her nude body like she was a piece of meat. "Hm...we'll just see about that.
These little ones are pretty damn hot and I'll be surprised if they haven't
fucked anyone yet." Suddenly, Molly tensed. She felt something in proximity to
her vagina, something big. The terrible truth struck her like a bag of
bricks-she was going to be raped. The man was going to insert his penis into her
to see if she was as tight as a virgin. Molly felt sick, knowing her poor pussy
was about to be violated by a stranger whose face she could not even see.

	Instead of raping her, however, Molly tensed at the contact of the man's
fingers against her inner thigh, dangerously close to her pussy. His touch was
cold, biting in a way. The intrusive and foreign sensation slowly made its way
up her thigh and around her vaginal lips, curiously sliding across her soft
flesh. Then his fingers gently caressed each of her silky cunt lips, scratching
benevolently with his fingernails. Finally, he spread the lips wide, pulling
apart the delicate wet folds of her inner pussy. Molly was slowly passing into a
state of mild shock--she never before even imagined such a humiliation; never
fathomed a feeling of shame similar to the feeling that was overwhelming her at
that moment. This wasn't the way she had pictured her first sexual encounter
with a man.

	She thought she would meet the perfect man, not a jock or idiot, but a
perfect guy. He wouldn't pressure her into sex, and would tell her that they
would only do it when she was completely ready. If she were ever thinking about
them doing it, he would console her and tell her it was okay if they didn't have
sex THAT day, and that he loved her even if they NEVER had sex. And when they
did finally have sex, he would treat her to a romantic dinner then bring her to
a quiet, isolated place where they would do it. That was her dream.

	This was her nightmare.

	Now she was shackled and gagged in front of an unknown number of strange
men. Her vagina, once reserved for the most respectful man, was wide open to a
group of perverts that considered her an object. The man slowly pressed his
finger up into her hole, sliding up into her passage, deep into the depths of
her womanhood. She could feel the vile sensation pushing further and further
into her until it reached its end, a tight collection of muscles completely
inward. Molly yelped and the sudden pang of pain--but the man wormed around a
bit before withdrawing. "She feels like a virgin. I'll try this one." Molly was
relieved, in a way to hear him withdraw. She still didn't want her friend to be
examined in such a degrading manner, though. She heard the man walk a few steps
to the right, then Jenna's alarmed gasp as the inspector began feeling around
her as well. After a moment, Molly heard a footstep of withdrawal away from
Jenna. "They're both unused."

	"Well, men. You have three minutes to look them over. But don't hit them
or mark them."

	"With pleasure." A new voice, laden with a lustful foreboding, triggered
a swarm of men to inundate Molly. The first thing she felt was of many hands
upon her. Some felt around her inner thighs, squeezing and rubbing gently.
Fingers traced her vaginal lips, some lightly penetrating her. Another hand
found its way to her buttocks, groping the velvety skin antagonistically. Her
legs were caressed delicately; her back was studied carefully. Some men reached
up and examined her hands, which were clenched into fists, but she obediently
opened them on command. Her petite breasts were handled and squeezed, their
firmness tested. What seemed to attract most of the hands were her feet, though.
Molly wasn't surprised, really. They pulled apart her toes and felt between
them, they gently stroked the flesh, studying the softness. She could feel noses
pressed against the sole as the men smelled the balls and arches. Molly was
passive, accepting her assigned role as an insignificant object to these men.

	Jenna, on the other hand, was more resistant to the inhumane treatment.
Molly heard her squirm around in her shackles, yelling into the tight gag and
begin bucking savagely.

	Then, she was silent. The men continued inspecting the women, but Jenna
was quiet. Clark broke the silence. "Works every time. If they're gagged, just
hold their nostrils shut." Molly was mortified to hear this. Jenna had
suffocated, her breathing cut off by her kidnapper. She hoped her friend was all
right, and wished she could do something to help her. Clark interrupted her
thoughts. "The auction is starting momentarily. Everyone is here. Take off the
blindfolds, so their faces can be seen. Take the unconscious one's gag off, she
won't wake up soon."

	And in that instant, Molly spent a brief fraction of a second in heaven.
She was immersed in a brilliant white light that covered her entire body, and
she was forced to squint in shock. Slowly, her vision returned to normal, and
the true explanation behind the light was revealed. A large halogen light above
her body was on, illuminating her body so its true beauty could be appreciated.
Once her eyes adjusted, she looked around at the men that were touching her.

	There was Clark, off to the side; as well as Leonard, who hadn't moved
from his spot by the wall. There were five men surrounding her and Jenna, two
were sitting down already. Three of the five men were analyzing Jenna's body,
the other two were probing around Molly. With the second woman unconscious, the
men were able to explore previously inaccessible areas on her. One man kneeled
at her side, his hand on her butt cheek, one finger lodged deeply in the cleft
of her anus. Molly was disgusted to determine that his hand was so close to her
butt that the only way the entire finger could fit between her cheeks was if it
was actually up in her asshole. Jenna simply kneeled there, unconscious, while
her anal passage was violated freely. The other two men were either further
examining her feet or her breasts--they were slightly larger than Molly's, firm
and protrusive. Not big enough to sag, but large enough to be noticeable.

	And a few moments later, the men took their seats, and Molly was left
alone beneath the harsh silver light and lustful gazes. Clark walked over
between Molly and Jenna, and then faced the audience. When he cleared his
throat, Molly turned and looked at him. "Does anyone object to these two being
sold as a pair, rather than individually?"

	No response. After all, they were very pretty girls. Leonard, who had
been silent for a time, stepped forward. "Would you like me to change their
position?"

	Clark nodded. Yeah. Do the unconscious one first."

	Leonard swiftly strolled over to Jenna, pulling his keys out of his
pocket as he did so. Quickly, he opened the stocks and released her handcuffs,
supporting the limp body as he lowered Jenna down. Then, he rolled her onto her
stomach, so she was bent over the hassock, her knees on the floor. Leonard
pulled the pillow out from under the hassock and placed it in front of the two
leather straps on the floor, then took her foot and placed it sole-up upon the
pillow. Then, he pulled the strap up and secured it tightly around her ankle.
The repositioning was repeated with the other foot. Finally, he took her arms,
which had been hanging loosely off either side of the hassock, placed her wrists
in the stocks, and then re-locked them.

	Then, he approached Molly. Molly planned on cooperating with him
completely, for two reasons. First of all, she still recognized the hopelessness
of her situation-if she tried to escape, one of the ten or so guys would stop
her, and probably with quite a bit of force. Secondly, Leonard had treated her
well during her situation, despite the ejaculation on her face. When he released
her handcuffs, Molly lowered herself down and slowly turned around on the
hassock. Leonard helped her down, but she was fairly self- sufficient. Her
wrists were free, after all. Molly lowered herself upon the hassock and placed
her hands in the stocks, then let Leonard take over. He closed the stocks on her
wrists, and of course locked it, then strapped her ankles to the floor. She
blushed uncontrollably knowing that her vagina and asshole were exposed so
lewdly to the men behind her.

	The pillow was soft against the tops of her feet, and Molly wasn't
surprised to discover that her ankles were held so close to the floor, and so
tightly, that she was unable to move them. They were pressed against the pillow
so her soles were facing upward and wrinkled superbly. She could almost feel the
gaze of the men upon her foot bottoms. As Leonard stepped back after restraining
Molly, Clark began to speak once again.

	" Bidding starts at three-thousand apiece, making six-thousand,
increments of five-hundred dollars."

	Various numbers arose from the seven potential buyers. "Six-five."

	"Seven."

	"Eight."

	"Ten."

	"Eleven."

	"Twelve!"

	"Twelve-five." Slowly, the numbers increased. Molly squirmed
uncomfortably, knowing that she and Jenna were worth thousands of dollars apiece
to these rich perverts. She was no longer feeling shame; instead, the feeling
was like she was an organism consist of of shame.

	"Fourteen." The men were slowing down now.

	"Fourteen-five."

	"Fifteen." A long pause ensued.

	"Fifteen-five."

	"Sixteen." It was the final number, coming from the man on the far right
side. Clark hesitated for about five seconds, looking closely at each of the
men, waiting to hear 'sixteen-five'. But when he didn't hear it, he spoke.

	"Bidding has stopped at sixteen thousand dollars. Forced To Pleasure,
Inc. has offered eight thousand dollars for each woman. Do I hear
sixteen-thousand, five hundred dollars?" Another silence. Molly was nervous
about the name of the company that was purchasing her. 'Forced To Pleasure,
Inc.' was, she hoped, not what she thought it was. But her fate was no longer in
her hands. It was in Clark's. And his plan, as it seemed, was to sell her to
some company called 'Forced To Pleasure'. As much as she prayed she was wrong,
Molly knew she was going to a place that lived up to its promise--she would, in
fact, be forced to pleasure.

	"Sold!" Clark called, and it was final.