This story tells the events of "How Much Do You Think I would Bring?" From the wife's perspective.
*****
I really CAN'T say that it was George's fault but his pornography watching habits gave me the initial idea. I walked in on him watching a porno of a wife auction. Usually I' don't care what my husband spanks his monkey to, just so long as he is ready to go when I need him. I DO put my foot down somewhat, he is not allowed gross stuff, like that "barely legal" crap. For the most part, however, I let him do his thing.
For whatever reason the movie George was watching really got under my skin, in the best way. It was a wife auction. I knew it was a fantasy, but what a turn on. The idea of standing on stage starkers while being bid on by total strangers was undeniably hot! I was struck by something. I realized that I was every bit as pretty as the actresses in that porno. No actually I was aware that I was prettier. I'm not vain. I've been turning boy's heads since I was twelve. I have long brown hair, lovely legs, My Tits are the largest C cup, perfect for my frame. I work out to keep my tummy taut and trim, My face was used in some local advertisements when I was in college. My skin is nice, and I take care of it. I have no tattoos or any major visible scars.
I had lots of attention when I was in high school and college but George put in a supreme effort to garner my attention. He was one of the few to focus on the woman I am and was interested in me beyond just the bedroom. When I married George, after turning down a doctor and a stockbroker, my friends thought I was crazy. They said that I was marrying beneath myself. That may have been true, but George made me very happy. He is terrific, if a bit unimaginative in the sack, and has always put me first. I love him dearly.
As I said that movie really got under my skin. I had asked Gorge, when he was watching that porno, "How much do you think I would, bring?" George became animated and told me that if I were to go up for sale he would never be able to afford me. I was flattered. They way George stated the words I knew he was not just being a gentleman. He sincerely believed that I would bring a fortune on the auction block. The thought had a profound effect on me. More often then not, after that night, when I played with myself, I imagined myself up on a stage somewhere, a prize to be bid on, a stranger waiting to be rewarded with my body. Sometimes when George and I made love I pretended that he was some trust fund millionaire who had bid on me and was ordering me around. I tried to get George interested in some role play but he's just not that kind of guy. He still managed to get me off but I was sure it could be so much better. George is very mellow, I often wish he had some sharper edges but he was as fine a husband as a woman could want.
We had a pretty good life. Nice home, good jobs for both of us. George did very well with his salary. We would never set the world on fire, but with what he and I made we could obtain everything we wanted. I liked my job, which was challenging but not too strenuous. George and I were so settled into domestic bliss that we began to talk about children. I did not think either of us was ready yet, and we decided to wait at least a year. Our world was a nice confection of bliss and comfort. Then the bottom fell out.
The Pentagon decided to cut most of its contracts with George's company. Miraculously, he was not let go but he lost well over a third of his salary. As for me, I worked for one of the subcontractors to George's company. My job vanished utterly. Even though we had been careful with our money and had some savings, it wasn't long before we could hear the wolf howling and panting outside our door. Both of us scrambled for other work and part time jobs but nothing turned up.
Despairing, one night I typed "wife auctions" into the search engine of my PC. Most of it was a trove of erotic stories and fantasy pictures but one advertisement caught my eye. "The Company," looked very interesting. For the next several hours I followed link after link. I was so turned on that I played with myself twice as I sat at my computer. I was so keyed up that I later went down on George and then rode him like he was Secretariat and I was his jockey. It was fabulous! What had begun as a pleasant thought in my mind suddenly became an avenue to free us from the financial doldrums George and I were in. I decided to call "The Company" the next morning.
My phone conversation was VERY enlightening. I realized that "The Company" was NOT a fly by night snare for the gullible but a serious business with an international reach. No it was not strictly speaking legal, but that did not bother me. Our country has regressive laws on Marijuana, drugs, and prostitution. I was raised differently. I was raised to BE different. I e-mailed my contact at "The Company" a series of photos of me in a skimpy bikini that George had taken on our vacation at the Cape. The fact that they did not request nudes immediately, made feel better about the organization from the beginning. After a week and a half of phone calls, e-mails, and loads of testimonials from women who had availed themselves of "The Company" my mind was made up. I realized that George had seriously underestimated my value. In exchange for a single year of my life, we could earn millions. Of course during that year I could not utter the word "no" to whoever bought me and would have to give them whatever sex and as much sex as they desired. In exchange they could not permanently mark me or abuse me. Still, for a year of my life, George and I could be on easy street forever!
The hard part would be selling it to George. I knew that he would come around eventually. My husband can deny me nothing. IF he puts up too much of a fuss I play my trump card. If I threaten to leave Gorge he becomes a huge, fearful pussycat. He thinks I can do better. George has often told me that any day he expects me to "come to my senses" and leave him for a more handsome face or a thicker wallet. A husband should NEVER give his wife that kind of ammunition!
One Saturday George came home from part time job hunting when I hit him with every weapon in my arsenal. I was waiting with a kiss, a beer, and a short dress sans panties,when I steered him to his favorite chair and went to work on him. George raised many arguments but I had done my homework. I answered every one of my husband's objections. In the end I only had to threaten him with divorce once. I felt guilty about it because it really is a dirty trick but I knew that George feared losing me forever more than he feared losing me for a year. In the end I promised George that after a year of being the slave of some stranger I would be HIS slave for my first year back in his arms. That was the final bait I used to land George. The session of anal didn't hurt either. In the end I was able to convince my husband. I told him in no uncertain terms, "I Know What I Am Doing, Honey." At long last George believed me.
I was still worried that George would find someway to sabotage me. I calmed his nerves every chance I could and gave him as much sex as he wanted whenever he wanted it. I felt bad that he would have to be celibate for a year, so I gave him permission to avail himself of the occasional hooker. I think I had screwed the last of his fears out of him when we went to the big city to visit the offices of "The Company." I knew what to expect, but George was impressed by the fine furnishings of the office and the demeanor of its employees. Our host, Vincent, was quite dashing and had a persuasive air about himself. He did a lot to calm George down. His assistant, Marla, also went a long way to convince George. George could not take her eyes off of her. She was a striking if short, blonde with a huge bust who was a veteran of the program. She was open enough to show us her tax returns. Her year of service had been listed as "entertainment director." Now she shepherded newcomers through the program. Marla was also a first class photographer. I left George in Vincent's company for a few hours while I disappeared into a back room with Marla, stripped down and posed for my "catalog photographs." Marla had me relaxed and feeling my best in no time. Her pictures floored me with their simultaneous loveliness and erotic charge.
