Keywords: Slavery, Incest, Non-Consensual, Semi-Consensual, Whipping
This is a work of fantasy only, and must not be interpreted as an endorsement of any depicted behavior.
Please vote, or comment, or email me at the contact on my profile. I am a feedback junkie!
*****
It had been approximately one year since her initial capture (she had not been allowed to keep track), and now Sarah was to be sold again. Her first master, having acquired some heavy debts, was forced to sell off his slaves. Sarah had no fondness for him, his wife or his children—they had certainly shown no kindness to her, as the marks on her body attested. But at least with them there had been a kind of certainty, even, over time, familiarity. All of that was gone now, and she was now back at the spot where her new life had begun.
At her initial capture she had fought. She now knew this was futile. As she was led up to the auction block she did not protest, and as she felt the eyes taking in her nude body, she did not attempt to hide. Indeed, she obediently, proactively took the correct posture, standing erect, her breasts thrust out, her arms behind her back, her legs spread slightly.
Her collar was secured to the pole behind her, and her wrists, cuffed, were also secured to it. She did not cry at this. She cried only when the cane touched the fronts of her legs, and then her stomach, and then her breasts. She knew this was meant to give potential buyers a vision of what her torment would look like under their own hands, and she did not play up her pain or try to suppress it. There was no point in lying. She was what she was—a slave.
What happened next was different from the first time. While she recovered from the blows, pulling her sobs back into herself, another slavegirl was brought onto the block, on her knees, and placed facing Sarah. The girl's head was at the level of Sarah's pussy. It was announced that for the buyers' entertainment, they would play a game with Sarah today.
The slavegirl began licking Sarah's labia, her tongue creeping in to swipe at her clitoris, while the announcer explained that should Sarah have an orgasm, then whoever had placed the last bid would win her, regardless of whether anyone else was willing to bid higher. However, she could be won in the traditional fashion as well, if anyone outbid the others prior to her orgasm. In that case, sadly, Sarah would be denied her climax. The announcer and audience chuckled at the word "sadly."
The bids began coming in immediately. For the past year, Sarah had almost never been allowed to orgasm, and of course, prior to her capture, she had been so stupidly prudish about such things that she had never had one. She immediately realized she had an opportunity to find a sweet relief that for all she knew would be denied her for the rest of her life, depending on her new owner's policies about such things. So, straining at the collar and cuffs behind her, she began unashamedly fucking the face of the slavegirl in front of her.
As numbers were called out in higher and higher denominations, she very nearly made it.
But after a bid of three million, a hitherto unheard female bidder yelled from the darkness in the back, "Seven million." A pause, and then considerable murmuring greeted this huge leap of a bid. The announcer called "going once, going twice," when someone sheepishly said "seven million and one." Sarah, in relief, desperately continued rubbing her pussy against the slavegirl's tongue. Was the slavegirl instructed to tease her so, or was she simply inexpert at oral pleasure?
The unknown female bidder from the back yelled again, 'Ten million."
This time there was no counterbid. Going once—going twice. And with that, Sarah was sold. The slave girl immediately ceased her ministrations. At the sudden sensation of nothingness at her clitoris, Sarah yelled, and then broke down in tears at the denial that had been forced on her.
She was unclasped from the pole, but her wrists were left secured behind her. She was pushed by a pole attached to her collar, down from the auction block, and back towards the woman who had just purchased her. The woman was dressed in a way that hid her entire body, including a cowl covering her face. She did not look directly at Sarah as the slave was forced to her knees before her.
"Mistress?" Sarah said demurely, obediently waiting for instructions while still feeling a desperate pulsing between her legs.
"Leave us,' said the woman, who Sarah could now hear was quite young. Seemingly barely more than a girl if that—perhaps younger than Sarah herself! The auction personnel left, and now the young lady leaned down. She pulled Sarah's face up by the chin. Sarah could see the face of this pretty young girl as she grinned.
Something about that face... why did Sarah feel a yearning? Why did her heart leap?
The girl leaned closer, whispered, "Hello Sarah."
On hearing that voice saying her name, the world around Sarah suddenly resolved into a familiarity that absolutely did not belong. An inappropriate rectitude.
"Skylar?!" she hissed.
Skylar was her sister.
Sarah had known Skylar to have been captured alongside her, but after that, had never learned anything about Skylar's fate. And here she was. Was she, somehow, a mistress? After they were captured together and brought to this place and summarily sold off to separate masters, could Skylar somehow already have been set free? And having been set free, she yet remained within this society hidden away from society, and actually imposed the same hated slavery on other girls?
On Sarah herself?
Skylar, still grinning, kissed Sarah on the lips, and invaded Sarah's mouth with her tongue. Sarah, in shock, relied on her instincts as a slave, and kissed her sister back.
When Skylar had finished using Sarah's mouth in this way, she moved on to Sarah's ear. After licking it, she whispered breathily, "You would be so familiar with the one who represents your new master?"
Sarah blushed. She had uttered Skylar's name, though she was a mere slave and Skylar had just bought her.
Skylar punished Sarah immediately. She uncuffed Sarah's wrists, only to move them to the front and cuff them again. She secured Sarah's cuffs to a pole set into the center of Skylar's table, so that Sarah was bent over the edge of the table, facing downward, unable to get away from it. Skylar applied ten hard lashes with the whip to Sarah's back while those around her watched, and Sarah screamed with pain.
On completing the lashes, Skylar made an announcement.
"My master has instructed me to make this slave available for the use of any master or mistress here, for the next hour, after which she and I will leave this place and travel back to his manor."
At first no one moved to take advantage of this. "Who is your master?" someone asked.
"Why ask?" said Skylar archly.
Then another voice, laughing crudely, "And what about you?"
Skylar now removed the thick robe that had covered her entire body, revealing her tiny frame beneath. "My master also instructs that you are to use me as you see fit during that time."
The auction halted for an hour, and Sarah and Skylar were fucked many times.
The journey to her new home took place on a train. This train was owned by the Society, meaning they were still safe from truly public view. So Sarah sat nude in a compartment across from Sklyar, herself fully clothed. For a long while Sarah had been careful not to speak out of turn. But her curiosity was burning her.
This was her sister! Surely it was not more than 18 months ago that they had been normal, bickering and laughing girls, now doing their college homework together, now playing video games together, now giggling about boys together.
Finally, she braved a few words. "Are you my new mistress?"
Skylar casually reached over and slapped Sarah, then replied, "I have already told you I represent your master. I am not your mistress. I am a slave, just as you are. But I have the master's trust, and have instructions to act in loco domini until we arrive at the manor."
Even after having been slapped and rebuked, Sarah gave in to the temptation to speak.
Perhaps being in the presence of her younger sister was bringing back old habits of familiarity.
"I thought... I thought perhaps you had come to... rescue me." Embarrassed, she felt tears beginning to well up in her eyes.
Skylar did something shocking then. She, the dressed woman acting in the role of a mistress for this short while, got out of her seat, and then knelt in front of Sarah, the nude slave—indeed placing herself between Sarah's legs.
Skylar looked up at Sarah from her position at her feet, smiling, massaging Sarah's legs gently. "We are slaves, Sarah," she said. "This is forever. If I am rescuing you, it is that I am rescuing you from any hope of freedom. Do you understand this?"
Sarah closed her eyes. "Yes, I understand of course."
Skylar now idly considered Sarah's pussy. "You must still be trembling inside from the way that slavegirl edged you on the block. And none of the masters or mistresses who raped you saw fit to let you cum either."
Sarah blushed again. "Yes."
