"blue eyes" is a story i wrote some 20 years ago and posted on another erotica site. I've decided to re-write it, updating and expanding it. Enjoy.
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"Going once; going twice; sold! ... to the Lady in the blue suit," the auctioneer's voice sang out, punctuated by the sharp rap of the gavel and the beginning of a polite round of applause from the several hundred Women seated in the auditorium. i barely had time to take in the fact that my display on the auction block had ended when my leash was sharply pulled by the Woman who had identified Herself only as my "handler" and i was led back down the long ramp, off stage.
As She directed me off the stage and began leading me down a corridor, through my lowered eyes i could see the next male being led to the block. my handler stopped me, stroked my bare bottom with more gentleness than i had received since i had arrived at the auction house and told me that i had done very well and brought in a very good bid. Then She yanked my leash again and W/we continued walking down the hallway ... me still swinging my hips in the marked fashion She had directed me to do while being displayed for auction.
At the end of the hallway, as W/we approached a desk, my handler told me to kneel, which i did immediately, fearing both Her displeasure and the crop with which She displayed it.
"This is #3406," my handler told the Woman behind the desk, after checking the plastic tag that hung from my collar, "he's behaved well, so far."
"Thanks, Laura," the Woman replied. "We really haven't had much trouble. These aren't much more difficult than our domestic boys. they all respond well to a firm hand and a well-placed stroke of the whip. How much longer is the auction going to last? Any idea? Will they try to clean out the pen ... or take a break and resume tomorrow?"
"I don't know, honestly. The bidding is still very active. It could go on a while."
"Well let's get this one back to his holding cage."
With that, my leash was passed to the Woman behind the desk. After giving me a pat on my bowed head and admonishing me to be good, my handler turned and walked back down the corridor. The heels of Her boots (a sound i was growing increasingly accustomed to) receding as She walked away. A quick tug on my leash startled me back to attention.
"Let's go, boy, stand up. you know the drill ... eyes down, head bowed, two steps behind and to the right, and keep that pretty butt of yours swaying and those balls swinging."
"Yes, Ma'am," i replied quickly and meekly, following behind as i had been trained to do over the past several days.
She stopped in front of one of a series of doors that lined both sides of the hallway and pointed to the floor, which i had learned was a command to kneel. Then She placed Her palm on the high-tech identification pad. i took advantage of the delay in the door's opening to ask a question, in the manner i had learned in the POW camp ... before POWs like myself had become spoils of war, to be sold and assimilated into the matriarchal culture that had defeated us.
"Ma'am," i ventured with humblest and softest voice, "may i speak?"
"Yes, boy," the Guard said.
"Ma'am, i need to go to the bathroom."
Even with eyes lowered, i could tell She was turning to look at me; if i could have seen Her face, i would have noticed it was with more humor than malice.
"The bathroom," She said, Her voice stern, but with the hint of concern i'd noticed in many of the Women who dealt with us at the auction house. "boy, you have a lot to learn. you are owned now, boy ... your needs are unimportant. your new Owner will decide if, when, and how you will use the bathroom. Until She arrives to collect you, i advise you to hold it in. Understand, boy?"
"Yes, Ma'am," i replied immediately.
Shaking Her head as the door slid soundlessly open, She motioned me to rise, and led me into the small room. In the center of the room, She told me turn around to face the door, removed the leash from my collar, and ordered me to kneel.
"Your new Owner will collect you here. you are to remain kneeling and silent until She arrives ... and that could be a while." She dimmed the lights in my cell. "Many of the Ladies like the spectacle of the auction. She may also be purchasing another boy. Or, after seeing some of the other stock, She may decide that She doesn't want You after all ... in which case, you will have another date with the auction block. I suggest you use this time to reflect upon your new position and how you will serve the Woman who now owns you. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am," came my immediate reply. i noticed it was becoming more and more automatic.
As She walked around in front of me, i could tell She was giving me a quick examination to ensure that i would make a good impression on my new Owner. Stopping abruptly, She nudged my knees further apart with Her booted right foot. "Keep those legs widely spread, even when kneeling. We don't want your Owner to think We've taught you nothing, boy."
"Yes, Ma'am ... sorry, Ma'am."
"Good." Then She petted my head. A note of concern returning to Her voice,
She said kindly, "If I am still on duty when your Owner arrives, i will remind Her that We do not allow boys to pee or shit after they are vended."
"Yes, Ma'am. Thank You, Ma'am," again, quite automatic.
Then She left, the door closed, and i was plunged into near complete darkness, left to ponder my fate. i don't know how long i was there in the room. Beside the occasional muffled voice, the infrequent opening of doors along the hallway, and the periodic clicking of female boots outside my door, there was little to mark the passage of time. Then, suddenly, the clicking heels did not continue, but stopped directly outside of my door. As the door opened, light flooded into the room and i would not have been able to see much even if my eyes had not been obediently lowered to the floor. As it was, i heard and sensed — rather than saw — a Woman enter the room, step toward me, and stop directly in front of my kneeling form.
After a long moment, in which i assumed She considered Her new property, the Woman spoke. "Kiss my feet, boy." The words were clearly enunciated in a sure, low voice, and i immediately complied, planting my lips gently once on each of the severe leather pumps She wore ... Her right foot first, then Her left, as i had been taught in a training session.
"Very good. Now stand." Again i complied immediately, noticing as i rose that the Woman was rather tall, wore a blue business suit, and carried a stiff black leather riding crop, well used by the looks of it.
She began to walk slowly around me, not once but twice ... saying nothing. Startling me, i felt Her hand close suddenly and firmly on my right butt cheek. "What's this, boy?" She demanded, closing Her grip even more.
Not knowing exactly how to respond, i ventured a meek answer. "My bottom, Ma'am," using a polite term for the part of my anatomy She was holding, having learned in a training session that only Women were allowed to use more vulgar terms.
WHACK. Instantly i felt a sharp lash strike across my left buttock and struggled to maintain my balance, a line of fire indicating that my answer was inappropriate.
"No, boy," She hissed, "wrong on two counts. First, i am your Owner and you will address me as 'Mistress', never merely as 'Ma'am'. Other Womyn — all other Womyn — are 'Ma'am' to you; I — and only I — am 'Mistress.' Understood?"
"Yes, Mistress," i whimpered, longing to rub my lacerated bottom, but not daring to move.
"And second," She said, grabbing my butt cheek again, this time causing me to stifle a small yelp, "this is not yours ... it is mine. Understand?"
"Yes, Mistress," i whimpered again.
"Good," Mistress said, slowly circling around to stand in front of me. Although my eyes were lowered, i could tell that She was an attractive Woman, possessed of a commanding presence. Her hair was dark and cut in a short, severe style. She was roughly the same height as i, with a lithe build that i sensed (and would soon learn) was more powerful than it appeared. My attempts to gather more details were brought to a close as i watched Her right hand ... beautifully manicured, with faultless red nails ... reach out with steady nonchalance to grasp my cock and lift it, pinching the skin beneath its head.
"And what is this?" She asked.
Having learned my lesson, i was quick with a reply. "Your penis, Mistress."
"Good boy," She said shaking the bulb of the cock gently. "And Whom does this penis perform for?"
"For You, Mistress ... only for You."
"Very good, boy."
Dropping my flaccid penis, She moved Her hand lower, cupping my ball sac in
Her hand. Always fearful of my scrotum, i had to fight a powerful urge to resist Her touch, to clamp my legs shut. But i did so, swallowing hard, knowing full well that resistance would only be more painful.
"And what are these, boy?" came Her question.
"They are Your testicles, Mistress" i replied, mouth suddenly dry and hoarse.
"Yes they are, boy. And Whose sperm do they contain, boy?"
"Your sperm, Mistress."
"Very good, boy. you are learning ... and will learn much more." She dropped my ball sac and stroked it gently. "This cock and these balls are Mine. The cock will be hard when I give permission; then and only then. The balls will be granted release when I say so, and only when I say so. They no longer exist for your pleasure, pet. They exist solely for my use and amusement. If you can remember that, I may let you keep them for a while. If you cannot, you will not have them much longer. Do I make Myself absolutely clear?"
