Authors note: This is the second of a few planned chapters in this work of pure fiction. This story contains depictions of voyeurism and human slavery and is intended strictly for the erotic enjoyment of the reader. All Fictional Charters are adults over 18.
The Book that changed my life - Chapter Two.
I stood there with Lisa watching the scoreboard, the numbers were changing before our eyes as the male slaves were being evaluated and scored. Lisa's demeanor seemed to change, like the Dominatrix in the book, she had set the ground rules and now I knew my place. She turned to me and explained,
"You know slave, you have a lot more control over your destiny now than you think. I've been to many of these things and they usually go the same way, unruly slaves that don't follow orders usually score low. The worst part about that is that they usually are sold at a bargain price, which means they are purchased as a pain slut and will have a life of severe punishment and abuse."
As Lisa spoke she pointed out the source of the snapping sound I had been hearing. A naked slave was chained with his arms bound from chains hanging from the ceiling and his ankles chained to the floor. He was being whipped by three different women.
From my angle it looked as if he had a very small penis, I looked up at the scoreboard and saw that cock number three had a four inch penis, this has to be number three. Lisa continued,
"Slaves that score high are purchased at a premium price because they are in high demand. They usually become lifelong slaves of their owner and many become part of a family and live long happy lives in a Dominant/Submissive relationship."
"My advice to you is to keep your mouth closed and only answer in head movements yes or no and respond to demands immediately when given. You have all the equipment to live a long happy life as a submissive slave, do your best to score high. Who knows, I may decide to match your price and keep you, but that's all up to you."
Just then an older women with a cane approached us, she must have been in her late seventies and her name was Estelle. She wore a black leather dress with three buckles up the front. The two buttons at the top were undone emphasizing her D-cup breasts. She had a black leather collar around her neck and wore a black leather cowboy hat on her head. The heels of her high leather boots clicked when she walked. Her ensemble was topped off with a cloth trench coat. She addressed Lisa,
"So this is him!"
She stooped down, grasped my balls, and read my tag.
"So he's cock number eight tonight!"
She knelt down and took my cock in her mouth and worked me to full erection.
"What is he, about nine inches?"
"He hasn't been measured yet," Lisa responded,
"But he's at least that."
Estelle took a small tape measure out of her pocket, stroked my shaft and said,
"Make this as hard as you can slave, let's see what you're packing here."
I concentrated the best I could and her strokes were certainly helping.
"There you go," Estelle said,
"let's see what we have."
Estelle pulled out the short tape and ran it along the side of my erection,
"Wow, eight and a half inches, with a five inch circumference. I may have to bid on him myself. My husband and Son in Law frankly could use a break, I get a little rough sometimes."
Lisa took her tablet and typed in my length, within seconds my size was displayed on the scoreboard.
Lisa helped the women to her feet and she took my leash from Lisa, "Can I borrow him, he's about the same age as my granddaughter and her mother and I are thinking we'd buy her a slave for her twenty fifth birthday. My daughter and I have had good luck at events like this, we both bought our husbands at a slave auction."
"Go ahead," said Lisa,
"And pass him around when you are through with him."
"I'll be over at the bar with a few of the other escorts, we have a deal going, we will watch the scoreboard and whoever brought the slave with the lowest score on the fifteens buys a round."
"He also hasn't masturbated in over a week so your granddaughter should be able to score her first squirt from him."
"Excellent, I'll tell her."
The women led me across the room as numerous Mistresses fondled and squeezed me the entire way, evidently I was just a piece of fresh meat to them. I was defenseless against their advances being bound tightly with my hands behind my back and the chain on my cuffed ankles restricting my movement.
Estelle led me to two ladies, one in her forties, and the other in her twenties, who were sitting together across the room. I assumed the older brown eyed one, whose name was Betsy, is the daughter. She was wearing a black corset that only covered her midriff. Three black leather straps, one leading up the middle of her exposed breasts, and one on each side of her breasts, led to a chain draped from a black collar around her neck. Her frilly red-blonde hair covered her shoulders. She was wearing fingerless latex gloves that went up over and past her elbows. She had a short narrow whip in her hands.
Heavy leather straps were buckled around her thighs. Since she was sitting, her full bloom pussy was in total view. It looked like a dark pink carnation. Her latex ankle high boots had seven inch heels.
The brown eyed granddaughter had light shoulder length brunet hair and was wearing a leather crotchless, cup-less teddy. On her right arm she had a tattoo of a women in a dark cat suit with high heeled boots, snapping a male figure with a whip. Her long slender legs adorned fishnet stockings with thin straps connected to the leather teddy.
