This can't be real.
This entire night has to be some sort of dream that I'm going to wake up from.
A dream that I never share with anyone, ever. Everything is just too extreme. Too far-fetched. Too crazy.
For I was just fucked on stage in front of hundreds of people...by a machine. Fucked while my body is tied up, tits tied and the people cheered.
Why, you might ask did this happen? Because I'm a slave. A sex slave. Me, boring old me that's never done anything interesting is now a sex-slave that was just sold.
Earlier this evening the word "slave" was like a curse or a taboo. But now I basically say it with pride. I'm a sex slave. I'm submissive. A submissive sex-slave. Yes, me, the executive level manager at one of the biggest oil and gas companies in the world is a sex-slave. The one that orders people about every day. I'm now a slave.
"Stand up," I'm ordered by the asshole guard as I am still bent over the "fucking machine." I call him an asshole because the entire time I was brought on slave, he's laughed at my discomfort and ordered me about with glee, not to mention took every chance he could to hurt me. In short, he is loving what I am going through. As much as I hate to admit it, I sort of want to be treated like that at the moment. To make this even more real.
Slowly, as I feel very sore, I stand as all the straps have been removed that were pinning me to the machine. All over I feel sore and my body throbs, especially my womanhood. It throbs lightly, pulsing with a tingle that is slowly driving me crazy because I know what it is. It's wanted to be fucked again. It's been murdered all night long and now craves the feeling.
With the two guard's help, I stand and climb out of the machine's rig. Instead of looking like the cold and scary machine when it was brought out, the machine looks like a warm and inviting sex toy, one that I wouldn't mind purchasing myself. Once I am free, two other men come up and wheel the machine away to which I watch it go with a bit of longing.
The way I feel at the moment, is like I'm high. Like I took some sort of mix of weed and X that put me in this strange state, for I feel like I'm floating as well as feeling every new sexual sensation that they've forced on me. For yes, they did force it on me. I came here tonight not to do any of this, but to get my money and go, but they did all this to me. They did everything that I signed up for.
"$115,000. Damn. People aren't going to believe this really happen," one of the guards says to the other as they position themselves to my sides. Each one holds an arm as if they believe I'm about to run off or something. I know in part they do this to make sure everyone can see me, for my breasts are tied with clamps on my nipples, and my hands are behind my back with cuffs, thus my entire body is on full view.
The two start to talk as if I'm not even here, saying how they have never seen anything like what they saw tonight. That they didn't even know the machine existed, nor have they ever seen the crowd so worked up. Then they start to talk about what a slut I am. How I get off on humiliation and pain. That they have never seen anyone get so hot off of it before. The way they talk about me, you would think that I'm a fetish porn actor instead of a normal, everyday woman.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes the auction," the announcer says to which there are disappointed mummers. I see the crowd begin to talk to each other as if discussing what they saw, much like the guards.
"As is tradition, if you stick around, in a few short minutes the slaves will be officially presented to their owners and will receive their first orders," the announcer proclaims over the PA system. Right after this, the packed audience starts talking even more excited.
I know that this night is coming to an end, as this has to be the last event. At any other event, this would be when most people take off to "beat the traffic." That they best parts have happened and there's no real reason to stick around.
Only no one leaves. Or if some do, it's only a handful and I sure can't see them. I would say this confuses me, as from what I remember reading from the website, the presenting of a slave isn't really anything special. Just that the slave is presented to the owner, in which they get on their knees with hands behind their head as well as spread legs and say how they are owned now. Then the owner will give an official order for the slave to do, which would normally be something not very exciting such as to sit on their hands, or bark like a dog.
I have a strong feeling the people are staying because of me. They want to see how I'm presented to my new owners, Mr. and Mrs. Valentine, whomever they might be. For what I've learned tonight is that they aren't going to take it easy on me. No one here is ever going to take things easy on me.
"And here comes the purchased properties!" The announcer proclaims, and the crowd starts to clap. Turning slightly, I see the other slaves being led out from behind the curtain, each with a guard guiding them. They are no longer handcuffed nor have gags. Instead they have their hands behind their heads as they walk with a couple of them unable to hide their smiles. Only one of them still has on cuffs, which makes me wonder if the owners get to say how they want them presented.
The women are led towards the stairs at the end of the catwalk-thing that is right next to me. Since no one is telling me anything, I can only believe that I'm to fall in line once they all pass. Just like I guess I won't get my cuffs, gag or clamps removed.
The first woman walks pass me, and she smiles at me. I'm taken back by this because it's not a fake smile at all. It's a warm, knowing smile. A smile that seems to say how we are now family. It leads me to believe that she knows exactly what I am going through, all the emotions I've felt tonight. More than anything, this makes me feel special. It makes me feel, I dunno, like I belong to a family now as she understands what I've been through.
Then something rather odd happens. A guard comes from behind the curtain by himself. He proceeds to walk right up to the asshole guard that is holding me. The guard says something soft to the guy, right in his ear, making it seem like he doesn't want anyone to hear it. Right after, my guard nods as if he understands. I wonder what this could be, as it wasn't a quick 'take her cuffs off,' comment but a long set of instructions. But since my guard doesn't do anything and the other guard just walks off, I figure maybe it is not about me.
Girl after girl passes, I mean, slave after slave passes until the end of the line is at hand. With a sigh, I lift my foot to start to walk so I can get in line, only the asshole guard grabs me by my collar to yank me back. When he does this, I am choked hard and my air is cut off. With force he then yanks on the collar again until my face is just a few inches away from his. Unable to breath, I see the intensity in his eyes as he glares at me.
"Did I say you could move you stupid bitch? Huh? Anyway, keep your freak sized tits where they are. Your owners want something special," he tells me, then releases me in a push in a very "I'm done with you motion."
When he does this, I feel yet again that strange conflicted emotion within me. For one part of me gets very upset and wants to kick the asshole right in his cock, but another part of me becomes flushed with arousal. That even after being fucked and punished all night long, I still feel a tingle between my legs, much like a teenager after her first experience of playing 'down there.' The feeling of being owned, of being choked, of being treated like I'm sub-human, even being referred to as nothing more than my tits makes me...aroused.
All of the slaves are now on the main floor, to which they are lead in different directions by their guards. I happen to spot one, who kneels in front of an older fat man. She proceeds to bow to him while keeping her hands behind her head. A small crowd has formed around them, looking eager to see what's to happen.
I'm then a bit shocked when the older fat guy unbuttons his pants and produces his manhood. Just whips it out, not caring who might be around or who sees. A moment later, the slave lifts up and begins to pleasure him orally having no issue about doing it with so many people watching. I watch her blow the older man, to which she seems to enjoy it. Watching her eagerly do it, I wonder if there are any special techniques for oral. I'm sure there are, it's just I never thought of it before. Never thought of a lot of stuff before tonight.
"Alright, it's ready. Make sure she shakes those tits," a new guard that comes from the crowd calls to my guards after about 5 minutes of me watching the slave suck the older man's cock. Each minute that went by made me more worried about what is about to happen. What are they setting up? Why? What's about to happen? Why does it have to be special for me? Can't I just perform oral for my new master like that slave is, instead of doing whatever they have planned?
"You heard him bitch, shake those freak titties of yours," the asshole guard tells me and I whimper. Each boob is very sore and tender as they have been tied up for a long time now, not to mention slapped, groped, and milked. This has served to make my already large breasts even larger as they are very swollen. To shake them will bring a lot of discomfort, not to mention shame.
Yet, after a hard slap on my ass, I start to move my shoulders to the right and then left, causing my boobs to move about and shake. I feel them bounce against each other as well as move everywhere as I feel the small sharp pain they bring from having to do this. Reduced to a sex object, I shake my tits for everyone to watch.