The Selling Value of a Slave Girl

The Selling Value of a Slave Girl

How do you set the value of a slave girl?" I finally ask you after weeks of wanting to, causing a smile to appear on your face, as if you knew I was going to ask you that question.

I have been visiting the slave market for months, I do it practically every week, mainly on Mondays when the new goods arrive from all corners of the Empire to be exhibited and sold from Wednesday onwards in two daily auctions, although this time I preferred to come on a Wednesday and try to witness one of those auctions, even if I have to do it on the sly.

Because of my status, I am one of the few privileged women who can visit the slave market without the risk of being enslaved; any other woman who visits the market is either a slave girl or will end up being one.

As I do during all my visits, I observe the slave girls, I even inspect some of them, imagining what their sale value might be, and wondering if I would be interested in buying them. But it is just that, a simple fantasy, not even my status allows me to buy a slave girl, I can use any of my father's slave girls in any way I want, but it is unthinkable that a woman can own a slave girl.

It was just when I had finished inspecting the slave girl that, without thinking, I asked you the question.

You begin to answer my question, although I immediately get lost in your first words, they are about the history of the Empire and the establishment of slavery, about the rules that a woman must comply with if she does not want to end up enslaved. All women know them, even I, who don't run that risk, know them perfectly well.

I look at you as you speak, we have known each other since we were six years old, but I don't look at you in the same way as before, everything changed on my first visit to the slave market a few days after I came of age, when you welcomed me to be your guide and bodyguard. We hadn't seen each other for almost two years, and we had changed a lot, I could see it perfectly in the uniform you wore as one of the market managers.

I look at you again like that day, you have grown, even more, now you are about six feet tall, there is no trace left of the slim body you always had, now you are full of muscles, muscles that I can see perfectly when I see your naked torso. The black leather trousers fit snugly around your legs, outlining them perfectly.

Just like that first time I saw you in the market I feel a small shiver as I see the menacing whip attached to your waist, I know what it can do to a slave girl's body, you have shown me on some of my previous visits, causing me to have nightmares some nights.

I look away from the whip, and unintentionally fix my gaze on your crotch, and the also threatening bulge that forms your cock. Although you don't know because I spied on you in secret, I also know what it can do to a slave girl's body, how often it can bring her to orgasm, how it can make her beg for you to fuck her harder. I haven't been able to stop masturbating since that day, dreaming about that cock in my pussy, the problem is that lately my nightmares and my dreams get mixed up, first you whip me until you make me cum and then you fuck me.

I know that you also look at me in a different way than before, you keep looking at me continuously in the eyes, although more and more your gaze is diverted to other parts of my body, I have seen how you look at my breasts, how you don't look away from my ass and my firm legs when I move away from you, even in some occasions I have felt as if you were examining me, the same way you do with the slave girls.

"For decades all the slave girls have been displayed in the same way, with nothing to give any clue of their former life, only their naked bodies matter;" you begin to explain, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me towards you to focus on one slave girl in particular.

"The first thing to look for in a slave girl is her hair;" you comment. "Buyers like long, slightly curly hair, preferably blonde or red hair, although the latter is very rare. In some parts of the Empire they completely shave the bodies of slave girls before they are sold so that it doesn't affect their value;" you add, causing my whole body to shudder as I imagine my long, curly red hair falling to the floor.

"Then there are her eyes, preferably blue for blondes and green for redheads, although more important than the colour is the look the slave girl has;" you point out pausing, prompting me to ask.

"What does the buyer look for in the eyes?" I ask.

"Most buyers prefer a frightened and timid look to a proud and haughty one, the former being the look of submissive and obedient slaves;" you reply. "Although it is also said that there is no slave girl more submissive and compliant than a former proud young woman, tamed and broken by whip and long hard fucks."

I look at the slave girl, she holds her gaze high, fixed on us, defiant and proud. I imagine her tied up, whipped and fucked by you, though at once the image of the slave girl disappears from my mind, the whipped and fucked slave girl is now me, and I feel my arousal begin to grow.

"We continue with the mouth, always forced by a red ball gag, always the same size, a gag that passes from one slave girl to another;" you continue explaining me without releasing your hand from my waist while with the other you start caressing my body. "The buyers like the slave girl to drool a lot, their saliva dripping down her chin, wetting her tits, joining the semen that some buyers have released on them after masturbating."

Surprised by your words I look at the slave girl again, I had never noticed that detail before, but I perfectly appreciate several sticks of thick white liquid on her tits.

"Also the way the gag opens the slave girl's mouth and causes the lips to swell after a while, allows the buyer to imagine how those lips will feel wrapping around his cock, caressing his member as he pushes inch by inch of his hard flesh down the slave girl's throat;" you describe whispering in my ear. "In this respect there is usually no preference, although many and I among them prefer a small mouth with full lips."

Your whispered words in my ear, and your increasingly brazen and daring caresses are heating up my body, making me practically forget my surroundings and allow you to move me around the marketplace at your whim.

"Now let's get to the parts of a slave girl that really matter;" you say as I feel your hand undoing the buttons of my blouse one by one. "The tits of a slave girl, besides being one of its main attractions, mark in most of the occasions which is going to be the use that its owner is going to give to that slave girl, although of course that also depends on the tastes of the buyer."

When you finish speaking, I look at the slave girl in front of which we have stopped and focus my attention on the metal pole to which she is attached. That post not only serves to hold the slave girl's collar and hands so that she can barely move, it is placed between her tits, spreading them apart, allowing the buyer to perfectly appreciate their size, in the slave girl's case they are two large tits with dark areolas the size of a coin and hard, elongated nipples.

"This slave girl will most likely be bought as a bed slave girl by a farm or plantation owner, when he tires of her he will send her to the stables to be bred or milked;" you explain. "Slave girls with few tits are usually bought as domestic slave girls by some men with special tastes, they dress them in men's clothes and just fuck their asses, I'm sure you've seen many of them without realising it."

"I like most buyers prefer medium sized tits, that I can span with my hand;" you tell me placing your free hand on one of my now exposed breasts after unbuttoning the blouse and corset I was wearing, as if you wanted to check if they are the right size. "They can be adapted to any use, if you want them to look smaller you wrap them with bandages tightly around them, you want them bigger, there are treatments to make them grow."

"But whatever type of buyer and size of boobs they like, they are all looking for the same thing;" you comment to me. "That the slave girl's nipples are very sensitive;" you add, squeezing one of my nipples between your fingers, causing me to let out a small moan, a mixture of surprise, pain and pleasure.

"If a slave girl doesn't have sensitive nipples, it's enough to pierce them;" you tell me without stopping playing with my nipples, switching from one to the other every few seconds. "I am in favour of all slave girls having their nipples ringed, it is one of the best ways to control them, and you can make her cum by playing with her ornaments;" you add, increasing the movements of your fingers on my nipples, as if you wanted to confirm your words, although luckily you stop when I was getting closer to orgasm.

"And finally there is the pussy of a slave girl;" you point out taking your hand between my panties, caressing my wet pussy with your fingers. "All the buyers are looking for a virgin slave girl, though as that is becoming more and more difficult, they are looking for a little used slave girl, with a tight pussy to feel it stretch as your cock passes through;" you say inserting two fingers inside me, stretching me like no one else has ever done before.

"All the buyers want a slave girl who is always horny and wet for her owner;" you comment turning me around so I can see another slave girl in front of us, her dripping pussy forming a puddle at her feet. "A slave girl who cums while being sold immediately doubles in value;" you say.

I feel you unzip my skirt, but before I can protest you grab me around the waist again, leading me to another part of the market.

"There is one last thing about a slave girl that most buyers don't care about, but I do care about;" you whisper again. "The tighter a slave girl's ass is, the more pleasurable it is to fuck her and the more humiliating it is for her, but if you can make her cum, she becomes the perfect pleasure slave girl;" you tell me, covering my mouth with your hand to stop me from screaming as you insert your index finger into my ass.

You continue to whisper meaningless things to me, moving me rapidly back and forth while still playing with your fingers on my pussy or my nipples, making my arousal continue to grow and I no longer care about anything around me.

After what seems like an eternity, you help me up some stairs and I breathe a sigh of relief thinking we are leaving the market, but we stop again and I hear a man start to speak.

"We have a new slave girl for sale;" the voice comments. "One of the best slave girls we've had in a long time;" he adds.

My breathing quickens even more, without my asking, you have taken me to witness the auction. I open my previously closed eyes in pleasure and try to focus on where I am, but my vision is still blurry, and your fingers still playing in my pussy prevent me from focusing.

"As you can see we have a beautiful redhead with long curly hair;" I hear the auctioneer describe the next slave girl for sale. "She has big green eyes and a small mouth with full lips that will feel fantastic wrapping around her owner's cock;" he continues.

Without thinking I open my mouth, imagining that I am the slave girl that the auctioneer is describing sucking her Master's cock, as I open my mouth I notice how something is introduced into it, something hard and wet, with a salty aftertaste, I try to close my mouth to expel the object, but I am unable to do so.

"Look at her medium sized tits, perfect for any use. Her nipples are so sensitive I could make her cum just by playing with them, so imagine what they'll be like after I ring them;" the auctioneer comments.

The movements of your fingers have slowed just as I was on the verge of orgasm, causing the pleasure to subside and I begin to think more clearly, realising that something is going on.

"As if all of the above wasn't enough, we are dealing with a virgin slave girl, neither her pussy nor her ass have ever been used, although as you can see she is wetter than a whore in a brothel and it won't be long before she cums, which she will do as soon as our skilled Hans wants her to."

I hear your name and realise what is happening, I am the slave girl the auctioneer is describing, you have put me up on the auction block and are selling me as a slave girl. It doesn't matter my status and that this can't happen, as you told me at the beginning, all slave girls in the market are the same and it doesn't matter who or what they were before they entered the market.

I want to protest even though the gag blocking my mouth is going to prevent anyone from understanding me, but when I am about to do so you move your fingers inside my pussy again, thrusting them in and out, fucking me with them, bringing me to orgasm and making me forget everything.

As I recover from my orgasm I hear the auctioneer shout sold, and the only thought that comes to my mind is whether my sale value has been as high as I imagine.

END