Auction in Limoges

Note: Sorry for the huge delay between installments. Two things happened: the world opened up again and we got busy, and I couldn't quite find a way to get from the current stage of the story to the part that I am aiming for.

As noted in a previous installment, this story is primarily written for my wife and builds on her fantasies. I know she wants to hear what happens during the auction (and afterwards) and so to get the story moving again I am making a beeline in the narrative towards that! Apologies if not all the loose threads from previous chapters are tied up.

As always, its worth reading from the start if you want the story to be coherent, though given the time that has passed since I published the last chapter I have written a brief recap.

I'd love any feedback and suggestions for future installments - what have you liked so far? What would you like to see happen to Sophie next?

As Sophie left the auctioneer's office, her mind played back the whirlwind of the past couple of days. As a strong, independent woman with a voracious sexual appetite, she had always enjoyed pushing the boundaries of her sexual play with her husband George.

As she learned to trust George's reactions over the past few years, she had opened up about her fantasies. Primarily these involved stepping out of the modern world where women were empowered and in control - Sophie fantasised either about fictional worlds where sex was less inhibited, historical situations where beautiful women were playthings of powerful men or, most recently, criminal underworlds where the normal rules of society didn't apply and men took what they wanted, when they wanted.

Sophie got off on the thought of being fucked against her will. Not submissive exactly - her favourite characters in her 'romance' novels were those who were willful and stubborn - but physically overpowered and forced into sex.

Her biggest turn on was being treated as a piece of property; a mouth, ass, tits and pussy with no status or value as a woman. She wasn't giving herself to a man, it was more that she didn't exist in the man's mind except to be fucked.

All these fantasties had remained in her fertile mind, though, until George had been kidnapped in the middle of the night from their holiday home in Limoges. Sophie had followed his trail only to find out about the £35 000 he owed Betdaily in gambling debts.

The situation had then snowballed - Marie, one of her captors, had set an impossible ultimatum as Sophie had swallowed a stranger's cum, and Sophie had been powerless to hold back the rising tide of wanton sexuality as her inner slut rejoiced at her deepest fantasies coming true. Her future auctioneer had watched on as she was relentlessly gangbanged and her virgin ass was fucked for the first time.

Sophie had maintained an outward appearance of outraged violation throughout, but inside her own mind even she had been shocked by the pace at which she accepted as cold, hard reality the prospect of being auctioned off as a weekend sex slave. More than that, the constant state of aroused wetness in her pussy had forced her to admit, if only to herself, that she wanted this.

And another thing. Sophie had noticed and encouraged her competitive instinct, especially when she found out about her guide price for the auction. Determined to increase it to at least the £35k needed to release George from his debts, she had embraced her role to the full.

This had culminated in reducing the supercilious auctioneer to begging her to let him cum, causing him to grudgingly up her guide price by an unprecendented £4250 in one go.

Yet her value as a slave was still only estimated at just under £30 000. Where was the other £5 000 going to come from? Sophie caught herself hoping that she would be given the excuse to explore her burgeoning inner slut further, under the pretence of being forced into more and more obscene acts.

But there was one last aspect to this that had surprised Sophie the most. It was the sense of freedom she felt. Ever since Sophie had become sexually active at a young age, she had been fascinated by (and, she admitted to herself, addicted to) the power dynamic involved in fucking.

Sophie couldn't ever have admitted to herself that she wanted to be so powerless, wanted to be used, degraded and forced. It had always remained a fantasy. And yet, now that it had happened, she felt an inner release, an energy and a vitality that she couldn't have predicted.

She felt free in a way that she never had been before. Free to give her body over to strangers to use as they pleased. Free of any of the usual societal taboos against rape. Free to explore her desires fully.

--

The next few days were utterly surreal - on the one hand Sophie saw, swallowed and had her pussy filled with more cum than she had ever imagined. On the other hand, her abasement at the hands of Marie and the auctioneer, and her 'training' at the hands of beautiful young Frenchmen, became almost routine.

It helped that Marie quickly perceived that it wasn't necessary to prepare Sophie psychologically for a year of weekend enslavement, as Sophie's willingness became abundantly apparent; instead the focus was on forcing her to drop any remaining inhibitions and to learn the sorts of niche techniques that Sophie's master might pay a premium for.

The auctioneer took charge of the video prospectus that Pietre et Savou were putting together to entice bidders. Needless to say, it involved repeating many of the sex acts from the first day's gangbang, many times, with many cuts and edits to show Sophie at her most wanton. Sophie loved every minute of it.

However, even despite the shocking new routine that Sophie found herself in, even despite the inner thrill that she had been forced to admit to, when the auctioneer came to visit her on Thursday morning his words still had the power to enrage her:

"You think you're ready, don't you?" the auctioneer sneered. "You think you could exceed your guide price. You think we have underestimated you." (How was it that the auctioneer could perceive her thoughts so uncannily?)

"You're just a naive whore who has learned the ropes and who now thinks she can take on the big hitters. I might have had a moment of weakness when you surprised me in my office, but you'll need to do more than that if you are to justify our marketing about you.

"I have just watched the latest edit of your video prospectus. It's utterly forgettable. Our auction house caters to

every

taste, and we have seen it all before. As have our bidders."

"What do you think the bidders will be buying tomorrow night?" he asked, condescendingly.

"You

know

what they are buying" Sophie retorted, witheringly. "You were begging for it just a few days ago.

"My body, my pussy, my mouth. My expertise. My depravity." Sophie felt powerful saying all of this out loud, admitting it to herself.

"Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong." The auctioneer countered. "You really have no idea do you?"

"Oh yes?" Sophie raised one eyebrow. "Enlighten me with your wisdom then."

"Our bidders are buying power. They are buying the power to erase your rights as a human, as a woman. They are buying the opportunity to humiliate and rape you, to offer you to their friends, their clients, their lovers as a plaything.

"However expert you are at seduction, at teasing and at driving men's desires (and I have to admit you are very, very good), it won't be enough" the auctioneer continued.

"You need to show bidders that they can live out their fantasies of being in a world where rights don't exist, and where power is everything. Luckily for you, Marie and I have a plan."

The auctioneer laid out the plan in uncompromising terms: "For the next 24 hours, there are no rules in this warehouse. Anything goes, from anyone, if they can get it. We will film everything and use it to put together the final edit for the prospectus, which we will show to clients tomorrow afternoon.

"You can do whatever you like to try to protect yourself. You can run. You can hide. You can fight back. But, ultimatelly, the only rule is power.

"We'll be watching and, as an incentive, we will update your guide price live throughout. You'll learn what enhances your value as you go. You would do well to adapt your strategy based on what you learn."

Sophie's blood ran cold. Up to this point, it had felt as though Betdaily and Pietre et Savou had retained some respect for her. Alright, she had been forcibly gangbanged and was being trained for sex slavery, but this had all been portrayed in respectful terms, as a necessary inconvenience and the best solution for all concerned given George's debts.

But the game had changed. In Sophie's most secret fantasies, the ones she had never shared with George, she had taken the idea of being powerless to its logical conclusion and had imagined being chased, captured and raped by gangs of men. To be forced into living this out, with no warning and no backing out, made her want to be sick.

In her head, a war of emotions was going on. She desperately wanted to plead with the auctioneer to think again, or to let her back out of the auction entirely. Whatever George's debts, this wasn't worth it.

And yet, over the week so far, she had given no quarter and shown no sign of weakness in front of the auctioneer or Marie. Despite her rising fear, she sensed that it was too late to ask for a reprieve, that the die had been cast. She was trapped.

"Ok then," she thought, "if I can't escape this, I can fight it." Sophie knew she was petite and lacked the strength of a man, but she was lithe and nimble and could fight dirty.

She also happened to be clothed, which had been rare over the past few days. So with a confidence she didn't really feel, Sophie walked back out into the warehouse, head held high and eyes on stalks looking for the closest threat.

It didn't take long. A stunning, muscled man, over 6ft tall, walked towards her smirking.

"I hear you're fair game now." he said. "I've been waiting all week for this."

As he advanced on Sophie, she backed away, giving the appearance of submission. But as he came closer she feinted, dropped to one knee and grabbed his cock and balls. Trying to ignore the holt of electricity that emanated from her pussy as she felt yet another stranger's cock, she squeezed until the man feel to his knees.

"What are you doing?" he snarled. "This isn't part of the game."

"What game?" Sophie replied. "No rules, remember? If you want me, you'll have to take me." She squeezed harder, and the man grunted in pain.

But just at that moment, Sophie caught a movement in the corner of her eye. A group of three men were advanced on her from the side and, though they were still halfway across the warehouse floor, their intentions were very clear.

Too late, she realised her mistake. As she had taken her focus off her first assailant, he had reached down to grab her hand, and had wrenched it free of his balls. With his other hand he pinned Sophie against a pillar and mockingly repeated her words back to her: "I want you, and I'm going to take you."

Desperately, Sophie tried to wriggle free, but to no avail. The man grabbed her breast, noting with satisfaction that Sophie's nipple was rock hard. He ripped at Sophie's strappy top, leaving it hanging in tatters. Sophie glanced down to see that her lace bra did nothing to hide her prominent nipples, but this was the last of her worries.

Suddenly, the man was wrenched away from Sophie by the group that she had last seen across the warehouse. In the confusion that ensued, Sophie darted away from the pillar and sprinted across the warehouse. Hardly believing her luck, she put some distance between herself and the four men fighting over her body.

Her laser-like attention on the group was disturbed by a buzzing alert on her wrist. She had completely forgotten about the guide price bracelet - the last time she had looked it had read 29750. This meant that, in the auctioneer's judgement (which he claimed was unerringly accurate), auctioning Sophie into a year of weekend sex slavery was worth just under £30 000.

Sophie's stomach dropped like a stone when she glanced momentarily down at the bracelet. She was so shocked she had to look twice, taking her eye of the advancing men as she did so. But she had made no mistake. The bracelet read 27500.

What had she done to lose £2 250 in value, just like that? Was this a mistake? Was the ever-hateful auctioneer simply trolling her?

The auctioneer's words flitted back through her mind:

"Our bidders are buying power...the opportunity to humiliate and rape you...live out their fantasies of being in a world where rights don't exist..."

Understanding dawned.

The

point

of this 24 hours was for Sophie to allow herself to be degraded, violated and raped.

Repeatedly.

On film.

To entice the people who were bidding for her.

To whom she would cede all rights, every weekend, for the next year.

Damn, she was dripping wet at the thought.

This was what the auctioneer had be alluding to when he said that the bidders were buying power. This was how she was going to make her video prospectus something more than

"utterly forgettable"

.

There was, of course, a part of Sophie's brain that remained in the modern world - her whole world right up to the point where George disappeared from their holiday home. A world in which being forcibly violated in this way was abhorrent. A world that Sophie still believed in.

And yet the tingling electricity running through Sophie's nipples told another story. This is what she had barely allowed herself to fantasise about, even when she was feeling most depraved. Raw sexuality, with no rules and no limits.

Deep, deep down in the recesses of her brain, she wanted this, even if she had never before admitted it, even to herself. It was what all her fantasies had been leading to.

The rest of her brain, as always, was calculating. Where was the advantage here?

Sophie realised that, even if she was willing to accept that she wanted to embrace the degradations of the next 24 hours, she needed to hide that fact. The video prospectus needed to show repeated, forced violation of her body if it was to be worth more than £35 000. Sophie really had no choice here - the drop in value on the bracelet had shown her that. And it was precisely that lack of choice that freed Sophie to let the electricity, the sexual vitality in her, take control.

She looked over her shoulder with fascination at the three-on-one fight for the opportunity to take her. It turned her on in every way that powerful, hungry men were fighting over her. Incredibly, the 6ft of brawn that was her first assailant was overpowering the group of three that had attacked him.

Before Sophie could wrench her eyes away from his attacks, he had knocked out two of the men and had the third in a headlock. Extracting a promise to walk away he released the man and advanced on Sophie.

She gave every appearance of resistance, spitting and kicking at him. But the ferocity was for show only; her hunger for being taken was now in charge of proceedings and her mind was racing ahead to the way this man might force himself upon her. Images flitted through her mind of having her hands held above her head, clothes ripped off and being physically overpowered by this man. She was driving herself wild in anticipation.

The man tackled Sophie, throwing her over his shoulder and then dumping her onto a table in the corner of the warehouse. One hand pinned her down whilst the other lazily ripped her shorts off. The man grunted in surprise and then satisfaction as he saw that Sophie was wearing the crotchless panties that George had given her as a stocking present ("Oh, if George could only see those same panties now", Sophie though lasciviously).

The warehouse had a gantry running around the upper floor offices, and the gantry was held up by pillars all around the edge of the warehouse. The man wasted no time in handcuffing Sophie's arms around one of the pillars that stood next to the table. This left both of his hands free, which he used to remove his jeans and boxer shorts.

A thick, fat cock waved in front of Sophie's face and another bolt of electricity ran from her clit to both of her nipples. She had to maintain all her focus on the pretence of resistance, and for good measure kicked out at the man, satisfied when she connected with his stomach and heard an "Oof!" in response.

Her assailant responded by taking two packing straps, tying both to her ankles and to two different bolts on the warehouse floor. This left Sophie on her back spreadeagled on the table and with her sodden pussy lips visible through the slit in her panties.

Visible, that is, until the man rammed his fat cock into them. Had she not been wetter than she could ever have remembered, the size of his cock and the force of his thrust would have injured her, she was sure. As it was, she felt an intoxicating fullness and an overwhelming release at being so helpless in the face of raw sexual power.

Sophie knew she couldn't be seen to be enjoying, submitting to or even tolerating the violation of her body, so she concentrated for as long as she could on visible resistance. She spat. She bit. She growled. She swore.

But all the time she could feel a building orgasm the like of which she had never known. As his cock drove its full force into her, her awareness gradually sharpened on the sensations in and around her pussy until she had no thought or sense of anything except the overwhelming wave of sexual energy cascading over her.

Her whole body bucked and shook as she felt the tidal wave of her orgasm break. Yes, the feeling of another new cock delighted her. Yes, being tied down and helpless turned her on in every way. But it was the knowledge of how she was being overpowered by raw sexuality that was driving this in her body and brain.

It took everything Sophie had not to cry out in pleasure, or to let her face show the energy and vitality she felt inside. She managed to gasp, "Please stop!" at her assailant. For her, she simply meant a short break from the intensity of sensations caused by his pistoning cock. But it served a purpose - for the watching cameras it appeared she was pleading for mercy against a determined assault.

"I mean, I am pleading," she thought wickedly, "just not for what they think I'm pleading for."

Of course, her assailant didn't stop. Heedless to her cries, utterly uninterested in her pleasure or otherwise, he upped his tempo and, if anything, drove harder into her battered pussy. Sophie had always asked George to stop between orgasms, as the intensity of the sensations she felt just after an orgasm was close to pain. George usually permitted her a short break to recover, and then to build to another orgasm.

This was different, though. There was no let up, no respite from the overwhelming signals that the nerve endings in her clit were sending to the rest of her body. Her vision was swimmming, she could feel herself close to blacking out from the sensations emanating from the fat cock. As she felt that cock grow and harden even more, she resigned herself to the inevitable; the man violating her so relentlessly was going to be the next in a long, long line of strangers to fill her pussy with cum.

Still, she couldn't prepare for the chain reaction his powerful spurts would cause in her body. The painful intensity in her sensitive pussy transformed into unbearable pleasure. She screamed at the top of her lungs (excellent material for the video prospectus, though that was the last thing on her mind right now). She blacked out momentarily as a second, violent orgasm took over her body. Writhing and bucking against her restraints, she could do nothing, think nothing - her body and mind were utterly driven by raw sensation.