Since I realized and accepted my submissive nature I've explored various fantasies. I teased an otherwise nice male into holding the remote for my vibrating panties. It was intensely humiliating as he turned them on in a restaurant, laughing as I struggled not to cum...a battle I lost several times that evening.
I've been instructed to dress as a common streetwalker, short skirt, white satin shirt, six inch heels, fishnet stockings β then go to a grocery store and purchase a single cucumber. Then after presenting it to the male standing at the store entrance who was controlling me that evening being publicly berated..."That's not big enough, go back and get a really big one!" as everyone stared and pointed.
I'm a humiliation junkie.
Now understand, this isn't something I want. In truth being degraded angers and disgusts me β angers because I cannot deny the attraction, that hot burn as I am put in humiliating situations, publicly put in my place, made to embarrass myself. I fought these tendencies for years but I've finally given up.
I crave humiliation, degradation, being put in my place by males. I need humiliation, to be degraded, used, embarrassed. I don't really understand this but I am what am and I now accept it.
But despite all I've been through, public collarrings, being stripped naked and whipped, even my experiment with multiple partners one evening - nothing so far has compared to the slave auction I experienced last month.
I first learned of slave auctions on the Internet (where else?). Several porn sites mention them. I was fascinated! To be sold as common chattel, the loss of control, the humiliation of being auctioned off like a cow gradually permutated my day and night dreams. I could think of nothing else.
So I began to research it, to dig deeper. I found a few men who had knowledge of such things. All were reluctant to open up to me; slavery is illegal in the US after all. There is the whole issue of white slavery, a separate and disgusting practice where women are kidnapped against their will and forced into prostitution.
Some slave auctions are fun events, consensual and organized by one BDSM club or another. Most are done to benefit charities; all the money is donated. Each girl specifies her limits; these are strictly respected. The slave is chattel for the weekend only and the girl can of course opt out and be returned time.
I was told girls with fewer limits brought a higher price.
The only problem was, the girl's Master submitted her for the auction, drove her to it, and picked her up afterwards. I have no Master at present, so I was told I could not be sold.
But persistence prevailed. I agreed to take a taxi to and from the event, and to follow the instructions given to me without question.
Finally one organization accepted me. I was given a time and place.
I arrived by taxi to a warehouse area of the city on a Thursday evening around 9 PM. The driver looked at me a little strangely but took my money and drove off. I had only a small overnight bag. I grabbed it, walked to the door of the nearest warehouse and knocked.
A pretty girl in her early twenties opened the door. "I...I'm here for the auction," I stammered. "Staci."
The girl smiled, "Ah, yes, Staci, we were told to expect you. Come in please." She held the door as I stepped past her into what looked like a normal office.
The girl motioned for me to follow her. We walked out another door, down a corridor. Several feet, turn...Through an open door I saw an unmistakable apparatus, an OB/GYN exam table complete with stirrups.
The girl motioned me inside. "Remove your clothes and shoes , put them in this bag," she said, pointing. "Put on this gown; the doctor will be in soon." She took my overnight bag with her as she left, pulling the door closed behind her.
Doctor? Damn I thought I was going to a slave auction, not getting an exam! I was about to protest when the door closed. I HAD agreed to follow instructions after all. I undressed, pulled on the paper gown, and sat in the exam chair.
In a few minutes the door opened and a man in his early forties came in. He was dressed in a white coat and slacks; he looked like any OB/GYN. He was reading from a clipboard, "So, no problems? Everything ok?" I realized he was looking at the application I'd filled out, which had looked a lot like a medical form. Apparently the first part of the slave auction was an exam.
I put my feet in the stirrups; he completed the exam quickly then left. A nurse came in and took blood samples, and I gave a urine sample.
I realized I was being checked for STDs.
After the blood and urine tests the nurse returned and led me down another hall to a bathroom complete with shower. She instructed me to shower thoroughly, wash and dry my hair. I turned on the water, waited for it to warm, then stepped into the shower.
I noticed my overnight bag was on a stool. I blew and brushed my hair until it dried, then brushed my teeth. I'd been told not to apply any makeup.
In a few minutes another girl knocked, then pushed the door open and came in. "Put these on," she said, handing me some soft items. Red thong, matching red bra, brand new, size 5 panties, 34C bra, my sizes. A long white satin gown, frilly and soft, covered me from my neck to my ankles. I quickly dressed.
"Now one more thing," the girl said smiling. In her hand she held a leather collar, about a half inch wide, also red. "Come here, darling."
My blood pounding in my temples, I looked down at my feet as she came over and buckled the collar around my neck. She attached a tiny brass padlock; it snapped closed. I realized I could not remove the collar.
The reality of my situation suddenly hit me. I was dressed in a satin gown and lingerie in a strange place. I had no money or identification and was locked in a collar.
I shivered. It wasn't cold but I couldn't stop shivering.
The girl smiled. "Follow me," she ordered.