I decided to write this story because I cannot believe what I experienced and I needed to tell someone about it. I did tell my friend Amber only a little of what happened, afraid she might spill the beans someday, though I feel that she knows more, not everything that happened of course, but that's why I'm writing. I chose to just put the words down on paper, just so I could express myself and hopefully get over the need to describe what happened, before I burst.
Well the best place to start, I guess, is to tell you a bit about myself. First off, my name is Cindy, well it's actually my pen name, my real name I'll keep secret for now. With that said, I can tell you I'm 36, have blonde hair to my shoulders and my husband, Arthur, also a pen name, says I'm even better looking now than when we were married 11 years ago. He said I filled out more after having two kids. I'm not so sure about that, though I will admit my breasts are a bit larger, but age plus pregnancies, gave me a little more fat around my middle and my butt is bigger. Art likes that, but I don't, and I've tried hard to lose the extra weight, to no avail.
I work part time as a bank teller, and Arthur works as an auto mechanic. We had just bought and moved into a nice house in a rural Pennsylvania town not far from Pittsburgh which was where Art had lived as a child and then his parents moved to New York when he was a teenager and where he met me. My father was a retired Army Sergeant and we moved a lot when I was younger, so I was used to packing up and moving to new places and could make friends easily, which is how I met Art in high school. I could see that he was new as well and decided to become his friend. In no time we were dating and after we were older, we were married.
Art is a bit shy around new people, but just after we moved to this town, we discovered our next door neighbor, Christopher, was an old friend of his from middle school. They soon became reacquainted and in no time, were best buddies once more. The interesting thing was Chris' wife, Amber, soon became my best friend as well. Art says we're pretty tight like the guys, though with him it could have a double meaning. Some men are stupid. Amber was soon watching our kids on occasion, which was a great help, and the kids liked her as well, calling her Aunt Gem, her telling them that amber was rare and special gem, hence the name. Art thought it was stupid, but I liked it; showed she was a happy person.
Our son, Richard, is 9 and Ally, is 7 and they're both very active, as are both myself and Arthur, Art for short. We immediately became involved in some volunteer work as a way of meeting more of the people and were active in his old church. Our sex life is okay, though not as often as I would like, but Art works so hard during the week that he often comes home exhausted, though usually on a Friday night he goes out drinking after work and doesn't get home till late, which leaves me alone with the kids. Still he's a good husband and treats me well, though I wish he would take me out on a Friday occasionally as he seems to enjoy the drinking with his friends.
As the weeks went by, I had Amber over one night while Art was out. She was in an excited mood, talking about the happenings around town, but the one thing that seemed to excite her most was her church activities. Art and I attended the same church as her, and though we went almost every Sunday, I didn't see what she was excited about. When she started talking about it, and the upcoming church auction, Art and I had never attended it, she was bubbling with excitement.
Finally, I had to ask her why she was so excited. "I don't get it Amber. What is so exciting about this auction? I know the church makes money, but it's just an auction. How much can they make on selling old stuff, and what's so exciting about being a part of it?"
Amber sort of looked at me with surprise in her eyes. "Didn't you reach the church flyer?"
I had to admit to her, I hadn't. It had been handed to us as we left, but we seldom read the whole thing, usually just a quick glance was all before it ended up in recycling.
Amber suddenly got a big smile. "Then you didn't read about the auction. It's not just for old stuff, it's also for us."
I looked her in the eye. "They sell, people?!"
"No, it's not like that. Last year the congregation voted to adopt something that is popular in a lot of towns now, an auction of married women."
"That sounds kind of weird," I replied. "Isn't that against the church teachings a bit?"
"No, it's not like that. Last year the church in a nearby town tried it, and they raised over fifteen thousand dollars. Our church needs a new roof and the Pastor, though he was reluctant, gave in when he heard how much we could make. Also the women who participate get half of the winning bid, if they stay the entire weekend."
I thought about it for a moment, and suddenly I realized why Amber seemed so excited. "Are you volunteering to be one of the people auctioned?" I asked.
She got a silly smile on her face as she answered. "Yes."
"But Amber, I know I haven't known you all that long, but you and Chris get along so well. Why don't they auction single women?'
Amber laughed a little. "It's not like that. The church likes to use married women, we're more mature and we can usually keep things in hand, and there's nothing wrong with it. For some reason married women also seem to bring in more money than single women. I was bought last year." The shock on my face made Amber laugh a little harder. "Look it's simply fun, nothing kinky goes on, well nothing more than what the woman auctioned wants. Then there's the small amount of money we get. It helps with the bills."
I looked at her, expecting her to smile and say it was all a joke, but she didn't. She spent the next hour explaining everything about the auction and what usually happens. In her case, she liked it, the fear at first, then the lack of freedom, but the man who purchased her was older and he basically had her do things like clean the house, and dress in skimpy dresses or give him back rubs, until... She stopped there and I held onto my coffee, hard, waiting for her finish tell me everything.
"Well this is between us and you have to swear that you'll never tell anyone, not even Art. Right." It was more of a demand than a question.