Slave to Desire.
Miss Emma Johnson couldn't believe it! How, on God's green earth, had she allowed her best friend, Cynthia Riley, talk her into this? A slave auction? Really? Her services, not sexual ones unless she wanted them to be, would go to the highest bidder, and for one whole weekend, she'd have to do anything and everything her purchaser wanted. Cynthia had emphasised it was 'everything apart from sexual favours', but then the little minx had giggled and said, 'Unless you want to offer sexual services, of course!' Emma knew it was for a good cause --a charity, 'Sisters of the Soul', a group of young women who provided meals for the homeless in downtown Melbourne. That was the only reason Emma had reluctantly agreed to be one of the 'auctioned slaves'.
Emma shook with nervous energy as she waited for her turn on the auction block. Cynthia was up there now. The bidding had already hit the $5,000 mark and showed no signs of slowing down. Emma looked down and despaired. How could her skinny body, with its underwhelming 32B breasts, hope to compete against the swollen, overripe peach assets of her best friend? Cynthia was at least a Double-D and firm to go with it.
Suddenly, Emma heard, "One last chance, folks. The bid stands with the gentleman in white at the back at $7,500. Going once. Going twice.... Sold to the man in white!"
Emma peeked out the curtain and saw her friend smiling happily. She looked for Cynthia's buyer but couldn't spot him.
"Coming up next, we have the divinely gorgeous Miss Emma Johnson. Emmy, come on up here," the auctioneer said.
"Emma," Emma protested under her breath. "I hate being called Emmy." As she'd been instructed, Emma strode onto the auction block and threw back her neck-to-toes purple embroidered black cloak, revealing her long, lean, bikini-clad body. The spotlight hit her, and Emma froze. Caught like a deer in the headlights, she couldn't move. She spotted her occasional boyfriend, Kevin, in the crowd and thought, 'Could this get any worse?'
Emma bit her bottom lip and gazed shyly at the crowd with all her faux confidence gone. However, under the scrutiny of almost 300 people, looks that eyed her long, lean body appreciatively, Emma felt that sweet little tingle on her nubbin that signalled her arousal. These people desired her. She could see it in their avid gaze and the way some of the men subconsciously grabbed their trouser fronts as they looked lustfully at her.
Emma held a secret. A secret kept only for those she deemed worthy of her reciprocation. Emma was submissive. She longed to serve and only felt whole when she knelt at the feet of one who showed they deserved her to be there. Could that be one of these people? Could someone worthy bid enough to become her owner, even if only for a weekend? What if they were what she ached for? Would she ever want to leave their service?
"The chair will entertain an opening bid," the auctioneer said. "What will we have bid for this beautiful young woman?"
"One thousand dollars," Emma's 'occasional' boyfriend Kevin shouted, trying to shut down all other interested parties before it could get going.
However, his bid was quickly dismissed, "Fifteen hundred," a powerfully built, handsome older man immediately countered.
Gritting his teeth, Kevin committed all of his cash reserves. If the bid went higher, Kevin would need to use his credit card. There was less than a thousand dollars left on its limit. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it but would if needed. "$2,500," Kevin shouted.
"$2,600," a woman's voice seductively called.
Emma, eyes widening, turned to see who had bid. A beautiful, tall, buxom mid-forties woman looked confidently back at her. She smiled and winked before turning her attention to the auctioneer.
Desperate, Kevin shouted, "$3,500." It would take every cent he had, but he did not want Emma's attentions bought by another. He knew that Emma considered him a 'convenient scratch pole'. Someone she could use when her lust and desire raged, but Kevin wanted, oh so much, to be more than that. He hoped if he had Emma as his slave for the weekend, he could show her he was more than convenient. That he could be what he knew she needed --strong, dominant and possessive.
The crowd's eyes turned to the woman, "$3,600," she answered without hesitation.
Emma looked at the woman fearfully, but then she reminded herself that being this woman's slave did not mean she had to have sex with her. Emma wasn't against gays or lesbians, it was just that she had no desire to experiment like that with someone of the same sex as her. However, the slight tingle between her shapely thighs increased as she gazed at the beautiful, powerfully dominant, older woman who was bidding for her services.
Kevin looked around plaintively. He was tapped out. Even the $3,500 he'd bid was a stretch, and he wasn't sure his credit card would have accepted the extra drain on it. But he couldn't, wouldn't let Emma just go. He spotted his friend Josh in the crowd. Quickly moving over to him, "Kevin hissed, "Josh, buddy. Give us a loan of a grand, bud. I'll pay you back on Thursday when I get paid."
"Hell, no," Josh refused. "You still owe me a hundred from last year."
'Fuck! I do, too,' Kevin recalled. He had that much and more in his pocket. Reaching in, Kevin pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. "Here," he said. "Now, can I borrow that grand?"
"Still no way," Josh said. "I'm hoping to get Kirstin Jaeger. I've had the hots for her since fourth grade."
"There's nothing sexual in their service, you Muppet!" Kevin hissed. "You still won't get anywhere near her sexy charms even if you do 'buy' her."
"No," Josh admitted. "But I get to watch her sexy ass as she cooks and cleans for me for a weekend. That's six months at least of masturbation fodder there alone."
However, before they could discuss things further, the older gentleman chimed in with a bid. "$5,000," he offered in his deep, resonant voice. His strength immediately sent butterflies dive bombing in Emma's stomach. The tingle on her clitoris was not a tingle any more. It was pure want, need and desire.
