Samantha's Auction

A bit different from the Ginny series. This is a stand alone story. Your comments and votes are always appreciated.

*****

Times were not good. The country was not what it once was. The air was choked with smoke. If you had a job, you kept it even if it was low paying because unemployment was at 25%. Food was scarce due to the pollution and moving to a green area in Europe was out of the question. America was despised and Americans despised their leaders.

The gulf between the haves and have-nots had grown to monumental proportions. It was not the best of times. Families had been torn apart as husbands and fathers had left to look for work. If you were a single child, it seemed that you might have it better because there were less mouths to feed.

Samantha Jones, Sam to her friends, was a beautiful young women in this very ugly world. Tall at 5'7" blonde with a trim waist, well defined legs and ass and nice round breasts, not busty but certainly nice with nipples that reacted to the slightest touch. If you saw her naked, you would notice a well defined pussy with outer lips that craved to licked, covered by a light patch of dark blonde pussy hair.

Sam worked in a hospital as an admissions clerk. The pay was fair, but in the current climate with such high unemployment, a job was preferable to not working as government assistance ended 10 years ago. Sam lived at home with her mother, who was the spitting image of Sam, just 18 years older than Sam at 45. Alexandra, Alex as Sam called her, worked in a small market.

After work one evening, the two women were sitting around the table in their small apartment. The letter telling them that their rent was being increased 35% laid open on the table.

"What are we going to do? We can't afford this," said Alex as she stared into her daughter's face.

Sam didn't have an answer. "Let me see if I can find some extra work at the hospital," she said.

The next day, Sam went to see her supervisor, Mallory Peterson. Mallory was 35, quite stunning, but very professional looking.

"What can I do for you, Ms. Jones?"

"Ma'am, I am sorry to bother you but do you think it would be possible to get some extra hours? I could use the money."

Ms. Peterson looked at her computer tapped a few keys, then frowned.

"Well, I don't see anything."

"Ms. Peterson, please, I would do anything for a chance to earn some extra money. My mother and I are desperate."

"I am going to ask you some questions, Miss Jones. If you refuse to answer a question or are, how shall I say this, upset by the question, our time is over. If you speak about our discussion to anyone, you will be terminated. Do I make myself clear?"

Samantha nodded her head.

"Good. I am glad we understand each other. Stand up!"

It was said firmly and in a way that Samantha knew she must comply with the directive.

Ms. Peterson stood and walked out from behind her desk and surveyed Samantha. She sat on the edge of her desk and told her to turn around. The older women thought that Samantha was attractive enough, but what about her personality. She certainly responded to the order to stand up and turn around.

"Samantha, do you like sex?"

"What?"

"Well, it is really a simple question. Do you like being fucked, sucking a cock or eating a pussy? If you want me to find a way to help you earn some money, significant money, answer my question!"

Samantha certainly had her share of boyfriends; one or two might be considered lovers. Her experiences with women was limited but she enjoyed those rare moments of female tenderness.

"Yes. I like sex. All those things you mentioned I have done." Samantha knew she was blushing but it was the questioning and the way those questions were being asked had made her heart beat faster; her breath shorter. This was noticed by Ms. Peterson.

"Very good. Tell me the truth, you like being told what to do, don't you?

Almost whispering, Samantha said " yes."

"I thought so. If I told you to strip right now, you would do it, wouldn't you?"

Sam hesitated but eventually nodded her head.

"Well, I am not going to ask you to do that. However, if you are interested, I can refer you to an agency that may be able to help you."

"I am not a prostitute."

"No, I know you're not. But this agency looks for young women who need income and have certain talents. You have the looks and perhaps the disposition. Look, it is very reputable and in this broken world of ours, this may be a solution for you, either short or long term."

Sam was puzzled. "What do you mean short or long term?"

"I would prefer if you asked them your questions. Their answers will be far more, uh, accurate than my guesses. Listen, you have nothing to lose. You still live with your mother, correct? Take her with if you are worried."

Ms. Peterson handed her a card with a phone number and the name Mr. Allen printed on it.

"I will let them know you will call. Give me a day to make contact."

"Can't you tell me anything?"

"No. I prefer you talk to him and let him answer all your questions. That will be all."

Samantha watched as Ms. Peterson sat down behind her desk. Samantha turned and left. She spent the rest of her work day thinking about the questions and her response to them. She certainly enjoyed sex and liked it when her lovers took control. She had no reason to tell Ms. Peterson about all her experiences. She liked being tied up, spanked and treated roughly but that was only with one boyfriend who liked those games.

That night, she told her mother what had occurred in Ms. Peterson's office. Her mother listened intently to Sam's story.

"I have heard stories about these places. I know that since the collapse of the country, girls have been selling themselves into sexual servitude. I can only guess that this sounds like one of those places."

"Mom, do you know anyone who has done this?"

"No, just stories," her mother said.

"Sam, I have never asked about your sexual orientation or history. But, I think this would involve some really kinky stuff."

"It does sound that way," Sam said. Her mind was floating back to a sex club where a boyfriend had convinced her to go. She was tied up and fucked by several men but was never hurt beyond being spanked and was truly turned on by the experience. She had since parted ways with the boyfriend when Sam found out that the gang bang was set up as part of the boyfriends initiation into a club.

But Sam was always surrounded by men like that. Joey, the very first boy she fell for when she was 16, used to lick and nibble on her ear while he pinched her nipple until she moaned. She still got wet thinking about it. She missed Joey terribly and wondered where he was.

Sam and her mother talked some more and the next morning Sam announced she was going to call. She wanted her mother to come with only because she didn't want to be kidnapped. Waiting the proscribed time, Samantha called the number on the card given to her by Ms. Peterson. A female voice answered.

Samantha gave her name and said Ms. Mallory Peterson had called and if I was interested in earning some extra money I should call.

"Yes, I have your name here, Samantha. Please hold while I connect you with Mr. Allen."

Samantha waited a moment before a male voice answered. "This is Mr. Allen. Is this Ms. Jones?"

"Yes, said Samantha. "I have spoken with Ms. Peterson and she recommended I call.

"Very good," said Mr. Allen. "Well, I won't give out any information over the phone other than what we do here is completely consensual. Some people find that strange but it is true. So, let me set up a time for you to come in. You just need to wear business attire, please. Here's the address."

"Mr. Allen, said Sam, would it be alright if my mother attended?"

"Well it would be unusual but I see no harm in it. Perhaps your mother may even be interested, if she meets the criteria."

They exchanged goodbyes and Sam now had more questions. Consensual what? What criteria? And why would my mother be interested?

The appointment had been set for Thursday night. Sam came to the address provided straight from work, wearing a blue suit with a skirt just short enough, a white blouse with a camisole underneath and a bra and panty set. No pantyhose. Her mother showed up on time and she wore a green dress and heels. They rang the bell and Samantha announced who she was and they were buzzed in.

Taking the elevator to the second floor, a receptionist showed them into the Mr. Allen's office.

He was a man in his late 30's, looked to be in good shape, gray around the temples and glasses. He shook hands with Sam as well as her mother when Samantha introduced her.

"Well I guess I should explain what we are about," said Mr. Allen. "I won't pull any punches and I will answer any questions but I will tell you bluntly what it is we do. We run auctions, not of art or fine antiques, but people. People who are willing to auction themselves off to the highest bidder and become, well, the high bidders property for a set period of time."

"For how long?" asked Sam.

"It can be as long as forever or as short as a three day weekend," said Mr. Allen. "But," he continued, "there are two types of auctions. The first is our most typical, whoever is up for bid has limits on what can be done to her. Maybe no marks from a paddling or whipping, or no double penetration. I should point out that the more limits someone has, the less money they will make."

"How can there be no marks left from a paddling or whipping?" Alexandra questioned. "Permanent marks," said Mr. Allen. So, unlike a prostitute who takes his or her chances in the street, all of our clients, those being auctioned and those bidding are ruthlessly checked and anyone who does not observe the limits is dismissed and never allowed to participate again.

Samantha then asked, "You said that there we two types of auctions. What is the second one?"

"Ahh," said Mr. Allen, what I described before is what we call a sex slave auction. The second is what we refer to as a pain auction. The person being bought agrees to be sold for a minimum of one week. The slave can be used for any activity, sex, sado-masochism games, markings which might be permanent, physical labor, almost anything. Although there can and usually is some type of pain action in the first type of auction, it is more intense and severe in the second."

Mr. Allen continued, "There are two steps left to do before you are formally registered. There is a questionnaire which describes your experiences and sets your limits. Once that has been approved, there are six photographs taken of you to use in your auction brochure, the device which gets our clientele interested in you. It is now up to you if you wish to continue."

Sam looked at her mother as her mom squeezed her arm, "Yes, I am interested in the first auction," said Sam.

"Excellent," said Mr. Allen. Standing, he pointed to a door off to Sam's left and told her that she would find the questionnaire and pen in that office, explaining it was best to do the form in private. Sam got up and headed to the door.

As soon as Sam disappeared through the door, Alexandra said, "Mr. Allen, may I please have one of those questionnaires?" He smiled and handed her the form.

Looking at it Alexandra said, "I am sorry. I wasn't clear. I want the questionnaire for becoming a pain slave."

Mr. Allen was taken aback, said "Are you sure." Alexandra said, "I have always liked that. Yes, I am sure, but don't tell Samantha." Mr. Allen agreed.

Sam was looking at the questionnaire. The first two pages were run of the mill...height, weight, age, general health. But, at page three the questions became much more personal.

How often do you have sex? Do you like oral sex? Giving? Receiving? Have you had anal sex! Do you like or have you had multiple partners? How many? Do you like bisexual activities? How often have you engaged in bisexual activities. Do you like being bound? Whipped? Spanked? Paddled? Caned? Have you used sex toys, like dildos or butt plugs? Nipple clamps? Have you ever given or received a golden shower?

Reviewing all the questions, Sam thought that maybe she was overly sexed because she had done or experienced most of the things questioned. She was never caned. She never had a butt plug or nipple clamps but she was getting aroused thinking about them. She hadn't been pissed on either.

The questionnaire asked her to list anything she would never do sexually. She thought for a moment. No blood, she wrote in the space provided.

The last question asked about length of slavery. Not a month, she thought. I couldn't miss work. A weekend would be good but could I make more money being a sex slave for a week? She checked both boxes and left the room.

Alexandra was sitting back in her chair as Mr. Allen was looking over a form, which Sam thought was another questionnaire.

Mr. Allen took the form from Sam and glanced over the form and looked pleased.

"Few limits, ok with some pain," he said, looking at Alexandria. "But you have to decide how long you service time will be."

"Should I do a week or a weekend? She asked her mother.

"Sweetie, how much can you take.? If you don't know for sure, put down a weekend."

Samantha looked at Mr. Allen and said, "One weekend."

"Very good. Now pictures. Alexandra, please go through that door and wait. Samantha, please come with me."

They went through another door into a small photo room with a plain backdrop, lights and tripod with camera attached. A plush chair was the only prop.

Mr. Allen said, "Samantha, the photographer will take six photos. You must be nude. Please undress. You may put your clothes on the stool."

He left. Nothing sinister here, Samantha thought. She took off her jacket and placed it on the stool followed by her shoes, blouse and skirt. The camisole was next. Then looking around she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She slipped her fingers inside her panties and slid them down her legs and put them on top of her clothes on the stool.

"I knew you would strip if told to do so," said a very familiar voice. It was Mallory Peterson, Samantha's boss.

Samantha gasped but Ms. Patterson held up her hand.

"No worries, Samantha. I moonlight here. I am going to take your pictures for your auction brochure, if you agree to put yourself up for bid. There will be no work repercussions, I promise."

Ms. Peterson directed Samantha to stand in front of the chair, hands behind her head with her legs apart. "That's good. Turn left same position. Good, now butt to me. Good. Now, I want you to bend as far over as you can, reach behind and spread your ass cheeks so I can see everything."

Samantha hesitated but complied.

"Good, Samantha,"Ms. Patterson said. "If you would have refused, you would have been eliminated. Now, original pose, turn to the right. Good. One more. Now sit on the chair and drape your legs over the arms. Wide as you can and pull your pussy lips apart. Smile!"

It was over. Samantha got up and Ms. Peterson, "Samantha, if you have very few limits, you will make a great deal of money."

She left the room and Sam dressed. Alexandra and Mr. Allen were waiting when she returned to the front office.

Mr. Allen said, "Well, almost done. I just want to tell you the procedures for your auction. Whether you chose the pain or sex slave version, the procedure is the same. You will have all body hair below your neck removed. A $200.00 stipend will be provided for the service. You will be supplied an address where you will report. There will be a one hour preview for bidders to touch, or feel you. You will be bound in an appropriate way, different for a pain slave than a sex slave. You will be gagged and blindfolded so you will not be able to talk to or see the bidders as they examine you. Any questions?"

Alexandra shook her head which Samantha found funny since she was the one contemplating spending a weekend as a purchased sex slave.

Samantha asked, "how many bidders?"

"It depends on the interest from your brochure. We limit the number in any case to 50 bidders and no less than 15." Mr. Allen continued, " You will receive 90% of your sale price. You will receive it when you are returned after you time is completed. If however, during your service time you opt out by using your safe word, you forfeit your fee. It is in your financial interest to complete the amount of time that you were sold for even if you do not like the activity or it becomes too uncomfortable." Mr. Allen paused and asked if there were any questions. He then continued. "After the preview you will be bound to a post, not roughly, and the auction commences. You will be wearing a collar and when you are sold a leash will be attached, your hands will bound behind you and when arrangements are completed with the buyer, you leave with the buyer."

"Naked?" Samantha asked.

"That is up to the buyer."

"Form then on," said Mr. Allen, "the only rule to be followed are the limits you have set. Once your brochure is circulated, we will be able to measure interest and we will inform you of your auction date."

There were no more questions. Samantha and Alexandra said goodbye and left.

"So you are going to be a sex slave."

"Looks that way.

Two weeks had passed. There had been no word. Ms. Peterson had come by her cubicle and said, "My office. Five minutes."

Samantha waited and went to Ms. Peterson's office.

She knocked and was told to come in.

"Ah, Samantha. I have something for you." She handed Samantha an envelope which contained two $100.00 bills and a letter.

Samantha read the letter. It said that she had been accepted for sale at auction. She was to go to a salon and get a complete waxing, no hair below the neck. Make certain your asshole is waxed. Report to the following address at 6:00 pm on the 17th of this month. Refer to your contract for other details. If you decline, hand this letter and the money back to the person who gave it to you.

"I have some other bits of information for you, Samantha, but I can't tell you unless you are agreeing to be auctioned."

"I am going to do it. It's not just the money but the thought of the humiliation, sex, and pain just turns me on."

Ms. Peterson continued, "There will be another auction on the same day but you will be first. The other is a pain slave being auctioned for a week. There will be 50 people in attendance. Some are couples so not everyone will bid, but you are going to get a great deal of money. You may have the rest of the week off, next Monday as well."

"Thank you, Ms. Peterson. I will see you Tuesday."

"And I will see you naked on Friday night. You may leave."

Samantha followed her instructions. Even though she was embarrassed telling the salon esthetician to wax around her asshole, the request did not faze the worker.

She hardly saw her mother but they did have dinner on Thursday night.

Alexandra asked if she was scared. Samantha said she wasn't scared but certainly nervous. But, she confided in her mother, I am more than a little turned on.

Alexandra took her hand and said, "If you remember that this is about submission, that you want what is going to happen, you will not only complete your servitude but enjoy it as well."

Sam looked at her mother and smiled.

The next day, at the appointed time and place, Samantha had presented herself to be sold at auction. She rang the bell of an old warehouse and was ushered inside by a very muscular man.

"Name," he barked.

Samantha told him her name and watched as he looked on a sheet of people that had two names on it, but Samantha could not read the names. Samantha noticed that the man's tone changed after checking the paper.