The Bet

Here is the beginning of Bridgett's article about Slavery Games. Like the first part, this article is not intended for children. If you are an opponent of Slavery law, you should skip it.

*****

When I got home after the bet I made, Alejandra stared at me in shock.

"You realize that if you become a slave, I'll be auctioned off too as your property!"

Of course, I was just starting to realize what the anger and adrenaline had made me do. I'd wanted to fight Brittany, and an opportunity to make her a slave had seduced me. It was dangerous and I knew it.

A few days later, we met again with Patrick Saint Andrew.

The black girl who had won the day of Lana's participation was there with her coach. There was also Brittany and her coach, Kimberly.

"I would like to propose a special event. You all have experience, and I suggest that the winning team owns the losers: participants and coach." Patrick suggested to everyone.

"Why the coaches too?" Kimberly asked anxiously.

"Because Alejandra will inevitably be sold at the same time as Bridgett," Patrick answered.

"It's normal for a slave," Brittany interrupted smiling.

"I think it's normal for coaches to share the same fate. You need real guts to do what Alejandra did," added Helena's coach. [what a brave coach - I'd love to know why she's this cavalier/brave/stupid]

"However, it was a confrontation between Bridgett and Brittany that led to this. I'd rather go to the auction than become the property of one of them. If I win, I want them to be sold and I get the full amount if I win," Helena imposed.

"You all consider that there will only be one winner? There will be no second place available?" I clarified.

"It wasn't our idea," Bridgett and Patrick said.

"There is already a rule that you have to do a minimum of 60 minutes or become a slave, even though the record is 48 minutes. Beyond that limit the second competitor and her coach remain free," said Helena.

Everyone looked at each other.

"I think that's reasonable because if none of us can last up to one hour, Patrick will have six slaves to sell?" said Bridgett.

"Yes, but if one of you manages more than 60 minutes then it is they who take the slaves or the balance of their sale. I think that's very generous of me to be honest," Patrick said defensively.

The date for the special event was set for fourteen days later.

For two weeks Alejandra and I worked intensively on my strength and endurance. Holding on for at least 60 minutes was going to be the greatest challenge yet.

Alejandra wanted to work on my anus too because I was going to spend a lot of time on the sedula. I was scared but at least this time I knew a little more about what I was facing.

"Something worries me. Brittany is the one who has held out the least, and she is not afraid to stay on the cross for an hour. Don't you think that's strange?" Alejandra objected.

"I'm sure she'll lose. And I don't want to own her, just humiliate her by making her a slave. She's so naïve I'm sure she thinks she'll win," I replied.

"Be careful it's not us being humiliated as well. Besides, in my opinion, if she ends up on the stage, her father will buy her back."

"You have a point," I noted.

Every day we go running around doing squats and lunges. The same preparation as the time before but at a higher intensity. We had to beat a record. Any performance below that would be insufficient.

Then it was time to go and make ourselves prisoners. The six of us were there.

"The participants undress and go to these cells, the coaches to the ones opposite," explained Patrick.

I was shivering thinking that Alejandra would not come to relieve me. The situation was different from the previous time, and each of us wanted to show others that we were confident about our chances, and we seemed not to have any trouble getting naked. But once the cell door was closed, I cried with fear. So did the others, I think.

At least this time, I didn't need to see the hairdresser as I'd already shaved.

Time passed slowly. But finally, we had a hearty breakfast and then got into the trucks. There were six of us in them.

When the trucks arrived, the coaches went down first, then as they reached the pillars, we boarded, and received a beam each. Then we crossed to the square. This time, we had no boys playing.

Being raised on the cross was almost a formality. Alejandra lubricated my anus, and once again I sat on the sedula, the dildo that went up into my ass. It was a humiliation but also a tool that helped us to breathe and stay straight when we got upright.

I was on familiar ground. It was still difficult, but I knew what to expect, and I took some pleasure in letting this sedula slowly penetrate me without being able to oppose it. I found the frustration I had experienced a few weeks earlier had changed to somewhere between frustration and appreciation.

It seemed almost easy for me. It had to be for the others, too, didn't it?

In more than an hour, it was my purpose, things would be different, but I preferred to focus on the present moment and take advantage of Alejandra's encouragement.

"It's weird... it looks like a needle on your left arm," she said.

"Where?" I replied, trying to see. I had felt a sting earlier but hadn't thought anything of it.

"My God, Bridgett. Bridgett, no!"

"What?"

"You're bleeding."

It was a terrible shock to hear about this because I knew the consequences for both of us.

"It's no big deal, nobody will notice," I said. Alejandra was obviously not convinced, but no one else but the two of us seemed to have noticed it at that point.

'She wants me to be eliminated,' I thought. Quite quickly, I reacted. Our fates were linked. Alejandra was right. We could not ignore the bleeding.

"What to do?" I asked. Once again, my position limited my expression. I was thinking about seeing the doctor so he had to let me continue.

"How about I talk to the doctor to see if he can fix you up on the spot?" Alejandra proposed and I nodded.

"Get her down," he simply said. Hearing those words felt like being stabbed and I couldn't breathe.

"No, no, it's not much," Alejandra protested but they were already starting to take me down.

"Wrist veins are dangerous," the Doctor said mechanically. I was crying. I was mad at being eliminated and so early.

"Stand here and quickly," said one guard, shaking his leather strap. The gesture was much more threatening than during the initial walk. Despite a stomach tied in knots with fear, I knelt down and placed my head in the opening so he could close it.

Immobilized, I was not so badly installed. The holes were lined with felt and therefore were soft against my skin. Moreover, there was a brace below my belly. On the other hand, I was already a slave. Next, to me, Alejandra had her wrist attached to my pillory and she handed me a drink.

"There was a needle in the rope," she said.

"A defect, no doubt," I corrected. I wasn't convinced of that, but what is the point?

"You have to investigate," she insisted.

"Alejandra, I've been a slave for two minutes. I... I'm no longer a reporter. I won't be able to investigate and do an article on this competition."

"I just hope Brittany doesn't win!" She said.

My God, until then I had not thought of that. I was naked on the stage and it could get a lot worse.

Alejandra was sitting on the floor next to me, and we were watching Brittany and Helena. I must say that Helena was very elegant in her struggle to breathe on the cross.

I didn't see how she could lose, but this game was always full of surprises. Besides, the pillory didn't allow me to lift my head too much, and in fact, all I could see was the girls' legs. Alejandra was telling me what was going on.

In my head, events were rushing in. I always came back to the point that I would have to talk about it in an article. I couldn't accept that one life was over, and another one was starting. And what would my life as a slave be like? At my age, what else could I be but a sex slave in a small brothel? I mean, if I didn't end up belonging to Brittany.

I was thinking about the slave hospital and Bethany. My position reinforced my helplessness and made me very aware I was completely naked and exposed. And not just to be looked at but to be used too.

"What are you thinking about?" Alejandra asked me.

"I can't slip a hand between my legs, or even squeeze my thighs," I told her. She remained incredulous for a moment.

"Can't you?" she said, slipping her free hand between her thighs that she was holding tight, just to show me. Then she laughed and so did I.

"In any case, I think the guards are very disciplined. They must be dying to come and get you right now," she said.

"I was thinking about it, yes."

"Having just come down from the cross your ass is ready to use," she added.

I was less excited right away, and I was squeezing my butt! Though Alejandra would probably have told me it wasn't mine any more.

I began to wonder what would happen between the collaring and the auction. Would the guards still be so restrained?

That's when Brittany shouted "Earth".

"It's her safe-word!" both Alejandra and me exclaimed in unison.

Obviously, Brittany was twisting with pain on the ground, and the smell quickly gave us the reason for her abandonment.

"She has diarrhoea! It's not possible!" Kimberly said without believing it.

The guards dealt with her shame with little emotion, washing her down before putting her in the pillory in front of me.

I was sorry I didn't get to clean her up myself just so I could enjoy her humiliation and draw it out a little more.

She was struggling a little, and the guards had to force her.

"I was drugged!" she shouted in protest as tears streamed down her face.

It lasted a few minutes and then she calmed down. Kimberly, tied to her pillory as Alejandra was to mine, sat solemnly next to her.

"At least we won't be her slaves," Alejandra exclaimed in relief.

"On the other hand, I have a view of her lips and her wide open ass," I laughed.

"And the guards behind you have the same view of you."

Time was dragging on as we watched Helena suffer more than any of us. She was fighting cramps with twenty minutes to go and doing it so bravely. Her coach was taking care of her but it was an almost impossible job to keep her up there. It was 5 minutes from the end that the doctor took her down from the cross because she was choking and starting to lose consciousness.

"If you're going to end up a slave, you might as well be the first. You did well, Bridgett," Alejandra teased trying to lighten the mood.

When the pillory opened up, I was happy to be able to stand up at last! Then all six of us were led to the stage. There I felt really naked and exposed to all eyes. I was a bit shell-shocked at all the shouting and excitement from the crowd.

"Bridgett, you didn't last very long," Patrick said.

"Yes, sir. " I replied, lowering my head. My heart was pounding as I started to accept my new role as slave.

My submissive words made Patrick smile in a very satisfied way.

He put his hand around my neck moving my hair out of the way so he could wrap a cold metal collar around my neck. It felt so tight and suffocating. So heavy too. Tears came to my eyes.

As I turned around to return to my place - naked but for a collar - I saw the coaches undressing.

"Face the crowd. Hands behind your backs," ordered one guard. The tone was no longer as benevolent as it was during the opening of the show. I obeyed, and handcuffs closed on my wrists. It's hard to express my feeling of helplessness, and despair. Still, I thought 'act as a slave, Bridgett. This is your life now.'

Brittany was then called. She struggled, shouting that the game was rigged and that she had been poisoned. But two guards quickly dealt with her and she was soon standing next to me naked but for her metal collar, her hands tied behind her back. I couldn't hold back my tears, but at least I was not having to be held up by two guards as Brittany was. I tried to take some pride in being a good slave.

Helena was calm. "The game was too hard," she simply said. She got down on her knees.

"May I put the collar on myself?" she asked.

"No, but you can accompany my movement," Patrick replied. She laid her hands on his and helped him to close the symbol of slavery around her black neck. She stood up, turned her back on the crowd. As she crossed her hands behind her back, her beautiful eyes were full of tears. Then she came to stand next to Brittany and turned her back on the guard who was waiting for her. "What dignity," I thought, admiring her grace and poise.

The coaches were more moderate in their reactions. Tears were the common part for all of us. After the way the guards dealt with Brittany they preferred to obey. The guards hadn't bruised her or caused visible markings but they'd caused her a lot of pain - pain you could tell she was still feeling as she sobbed and shook.

A guard took me by the elbow, like the others.

"We're going back to the pillory," said one of them.

"Okay, I'll go."

"Sir. Finish your sentences by sir, cunt," he said, slashing at my buttocks with his strap.

"May I go unaccompanied, sir? I won't try to escape or cause trouble, sir," I corrected.

"You better not try to escape," he said, slamming a ten-centimetre-long leather strap into his hands.

I was terrified, but also more excited than I'd ever been in my life. I was naked, tied up and at the mercy of these men. I was wondering what would happen to us while in the stocks.

Walking with my hands behind my back was not very easy, especially when going down the stairs, but I succeeded in doing it. I had a look back and I saw that, except Brittany, we were all walking without the help of the guards. Sharp pain on my buttocks called me to order quickly and made me scream with shock and pain.

"Look ahead," the guard told me.

From time to time these slaps, followed by a giggle from the crowd, were heard.

I now understood the marks on Stephanie's body when I came to visit her after she had lost in her competition. I had a thought for all losers, especially Lana. I was about to know what they went through. I swallowed and tried to be brave.

The heat was rising in my stomach. As incongruous as it was, the situation was very exciting to me. I had expected to be taken back to the cells after the competition but they could only be taking us to the stocks to use us before we were sold.

As soon as I was secure, I felt fingers slipping between my thighs then a cock took me all the way. I was surprised how wet I was and then again by the cock stuffed into my mouth. Being used by two men was a first for me but I tried to apply myself and use my tongue to help stimulate the one in my mouth.

It wasn't long before I came and unlike my usual lovers they simply left without a word and without any care for my burning need. The next just masturbated himself in front of me and I could do little but accept his cum on my face and that of his friends who followed. My humiliation was complete. Not only had they completely degraded me but all my friends and colleagues would see this. There would no doubt be a photographer and camera man from the paper recording my ordeal for my replacement to write about.

When the next cock was deep inside me I contracted my vagina to help him enjoy me. He wasn't that big but I could hear and feel that he appreciate my effort.

"Hey, she's a natural this one. So good."

"She's milking you! Lucky bastard. I'm having another go." His friend joked.

Next up was my virgin ass.

"If you want me to lubricate, you have to be convincing darling, and think of calling me, sir. Everyone is sir to you. Now you're just a piece of shit" that was clear.

"Sir, take me in the ass. Please, sir!" I tried. He spread a little mixture of wet and sperm on my anus.

"That's better, but if you want more lubricant you need to keep talking dirty slut."

The other guards were laughing at my expense. This was only the beginning.

"Fuck me. Take me deep, like a bitch. Yes, sir." I understood the degrading game he wanted to play.

"I'm your whore. Yes, to fuck. I'm your toy. A bitch in heat. Thank you for fucking my ass, sir." It was one and then two fingers, and then deeper inside me. It was very humiliating but I love it. I had to accept that I loved being used like this in front of all these people.

I was enjoying being the center of attention and used like the slave I now was but I started to worry about how painful and raw my pussy and ass felt. Then I thought of Helena, and could only imagine how much pain she must be in as they used her at least as roughly.

"It's over, we're taking them home!" said a voice in the distance. I was glad I was saved by the bell.

I would have liked to talk to Helena. To Brittany too. I would have liked to apologize to Alejandra. But I was soon alone in my cell, and I felt dirty after what I had been through.

As the hairdresser later led me to the shower she asked me if it had been difficult. It had but I think it was harder for Kimberly and Brittany than me. I think if I'm honest my life had always been leading to this so I was better prepared for it than they were.

I was then taken to see Patrick.

"I am delighted to be able to enjoy you in this outfit," he gloated.

"I don't doubt it," I said sarcastically.

"Get on your knees and offer me your pussy and ass. You're a slave now."

My mouth went dry and I obeyed, utterly humiliating myself for him.

"Head against the ground, Bridgett!" From the corner of my eye I saw the same leather strap as those the guards used. Then it was in motion and hard. It really hurt and even more so than when the guards had used it on me.

"You were a little bonus for the guards. They can be a little brutal sometimes but I hear that you enjoyed it. Others suffered more than you," he said caressing my throbbing clit.

"It's good to have learned that sexual excitement helps to bear the pain. I think you'll need it as a slave." I sighed enjoying his touch, so it was a surprise when the second blow landed.

"Ow!"

"Yes, we say Master or at least sir. Thank me for this lesson!"

I was outraged to have to thank him for what he did to me! I chose to thank him for taking care of my clitoris, where his hand had returned.

"Thank you, Master."

"No, not like that. I want you on your knees looking at me submissively."

I put myself in position already missing his caress.

"Thank you, Master."

"Now sit on the floor, legs spread. Wider."

'What else?' I thought, but I was holding back from talking. My butt was more than sore at this point.

"Yes, disobedient girls get a sore butt," he said laughing as he looked at me. I had trouble holding his gaze so lowered my eyes.

"You're all wet. Masturbate yourself. Tickle that clitoris for me."

My eyes opened wide in shock and shame, but my hand obeyed and was rubbing my clit at first shyly but soon with urgency and appetite. I closed my eyes and started to moan.

"No, look at me!" he insisted.

As I approached orgasm, sustaining his gaze was terribly humiliating. In fact, I felt his power over me. He was the one who decided for me, for an act that was usually private. If he asked me to stop, I would have to obey, I thought. I was afraid he was going to ask me to stop. He was going to see me come, see me in this animal state. I was afraid he would make me stop. I was afraid he'd keep me going.

At the time of the orgasm, I was hypnotized and grateful to my Master. He looked at me for a long time until I caught my breath. It was my third orgasm as a slave, and the three most powerful I have ever had in my life.