I don’t really know how long we waited in the cage. Being hooded in the curtained cage. I couldn’t tell whether it was day or night, even the temperature in the stifling cage didn’t seem to change much. At least my legs were free from the froglike position, so I could kneel on the hard stone floor, But that was pretty much all I could do there was no space to lie down, and little space to move around at all. We waited, till the men decided otherwise. I was still heartbroken that Master had sold me. was I not pleasing? Did I not squirm and yield prettily enough for him? Wasn’t I desirable enough for him. I realised that I might be sold for any reason, perhaps he just bored of me. I felt desolate & vulnerable. & I knew I was going to be sold & would have a new Master to please, & obediently love. I tried to pass my time by concentrating in minute detail on pleasing Him or any Master. & it did seem to help, but I found myself becoming very excited and squirming in the cage. Perhaps I would look good on the auction block like this. Perhaps I would bring a fair price, on the block. & I did genuinely want to be pleasing & obedient to my new owner whomever that may be.
I felt like such a bimbo. My chronicle or journal had been completely forgotten. I had gone native at the first opportunity. Pettily pleased by the flattery of the men. Fawning obediently at their feet. Aching for every bit of attention I was thrown by them. I deserved to be a slave, to kneel submissively at their feet. To be bought, sold, branded, collared & whipped. Raped and made to please them with my lips at the snap of their masterful fingers. But also thought about my former life & my friends on earth, obsessed by clothes, make up, & relationships. Who was that for if it wasn’t for men. I felt utterly dependant on my sexuality & how it was perceived by others for my self image my self worth. Inferior & quite worthless. I sobbed to myself and thought about serving Master.
The curtain was opened & I and several other girls were taken from the cage. Then we were taken to another cage and chained in a rack kneeling with our bottoms in the air. One of the men, the brutes. probed me, from behind and laughed.
“Not too long now little one.” He said wiping his finger on my bottom.
The sight of our bottoms in the air was quite pleasing. Well rounded firm in this position. Often a girl would be anally raped in the rack. They wouldn’t be white silk anyhow.
Much, much worse was to come. From the end of the rack I started to hear muffled cries of pain. Then it came closer and then it was my turn to have my brand painted with the sticky ointment. I moaned utterly helpless with burning pain. My brand was being cleaned. When they had finished the line the curtain was closed. If the smell was waxy the sensation also felt waxy, like my flesh had melted and was being stirred. It felt worse than being branded itself, or at least it did at that moment. I was to be proved wrong about that again shortly. Whimpering in pain we passed the day, with our throbbing waxy rears in the air.
The next day was auction day. We were released from the rack, unbound & instructed to clean and prettify ourselves. The other girls were already busy doing this. I felt numb & sore, also incredibly tender, between my legs, needing to pee so badly. Even kneeling was sore. Nonetheless we all hurried with the slave soap & brushes provided. There were only 16 of us in total. I wondered where the other girls in the wagons had gone, if they were at their destination yet. It was a small town, with only a couple of taverns, a market & some outlying estates. Curious & fascinated I looked at my own & the other girls bottoms. After a crusty scab was brushed away, the brand was completely gone, my bottom was smooth and soft again. But I guessed correctly, not for very long. Already I could feel the white heat of the branding iron approaching, the fear choking in my throat.
As I brushed my hair and had my face done by another girl, I was struck by how much happier we all felt, cleaned up and pretty. I even began to wonder if the two auctioneers were looking in my direction, as I smoothed my hair for the umpteenth time.
We were each given a small bowlful of water to drink. While we drinking one of the men came up besides us & urinated in a gutter running at the base of the wall. My urethra ached so. We wouldn’t be permitted to toilet till after we were sold. Being so desperate to pee makes us extremely malleable on the auction block. Squirming deliciously at the Masters probing fingers. Squirming red with shame & discomfort. All this adds to saleability. I suddenly realised we were no more than property to the men. Anything that added to their pleasure would be imposed on us. Like a calf in veal crate, only the enjoyment of our purchasers mattered.
We were lined up kneeling facing a stone wall. The two men, sat about drinking, Soon they were joined by another man. With a very loud confident voice. He examined us in turn while we faced the wall. He stroked my hair almost soothingly. I moaned softly. Looking down I saw the stout shortened bullwhip of the auctioneer, with its phallic shaped handle in his other hand. He caught me looking at it and pushed my eyes back to the wall. I whimpered fearfully, he continued stroking my hair, down my back his fingers going down around my bottom now. Then he pushed his fingers between my legs. I felt his fingers in my wetness, opening my labial lips, rubbing at my clitoris. I was so hot & wet now. I wanted him inside me.
“Are you hot & ready for a new Master girl?”
“Please Master.” I moaned.
“Ready to be sold branded & raped?”
“Yes Master, Please Master sell this girl to a strict Master.”
“Why girl?”
“So this girl may serve & love him perfectly Master.”
He rubbed his fingers loudly in my wetness.
“What a hot little slut you are.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
When he was satisfied with my examination he gave me his fingers to lick clean.
“Suck them nice & clean little blonde bimbo.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
“Enjoy the taste slut, soon you will have something else to suck on.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.” I whimpered.
“After we have sold you & branded that nice soft well rounded bottom of yours.”
“Yes Master, thank you Master.”
He gave me a firm slap on my bottom. Laughing as I yelped in fright. He moved on to the next girl.
“A pretty bunch.” He commented to his companions.
“They know better than to not be.” Was the reply.
“The whip makes all women pretty if not lovely.”
The 3 started smoking hash and chatting. The man with the loud voice constantly cracking jokes. I felt quite jealous of their easy confidence. It must be pleasant to be a man here.
Then the men started taking us some stone steps & putting us into the sales cage. It was a very low narrow cage, we had to crawl into it one by one, on all fours, pushed up against the next girls bottom, as the girl behind me had her face pressed into my behind. The girl in front of me was very, very wet and the smell of her was extremely strong in my face, overpoweringly so with its thick sticky heat. Humiliated I realised how wet I would be for the girl behind me. & in the low narrow cage, curtained as it was the smell grew stronger and stronger. The smell of soaked helpless slave heat and above all sexual fear. The water had been laced with a strong aphrodisiac to improve our saleability. Even the white silk girls were squirming, red faced with need and shame.
We were left for quite a bit longer as the men chatted and joked amongst themselves. Outside the cage we could hear the crowd building up. A slave auction is considered entertaining even if you weren’t interested in buying a new girl. In the distance I could here some lowing as some cattle were being sold, before we were.
Then it started, the first girl was pulled out of the cage. I listened as she was put through her paces, a loud slap here, the crack of the whip there, a squeal, cries of embarrassment, shouts of appreciation, the girl begged to be sold, to be allowed to please. Then shouted bids, & the sale sealed.
“Next slut” & another girl was pulled out.
The process was quick & but entertaining, for the men at least, steadily I was pushed forward, till my nose was pressed up against the gate.
The gate was opened & I crawled out, my hair was covering my face. Until he seized a fistful of it and lifted me to my tip toes in front of the men. He twisted me like this from side to side while the men looked at me. the crowd seemed quite big and loud. I kept my eyes down, a slave is not permitted to look into the eyes of a Master, without permission, even on the sales block.
I was instructed to place my hands behind my neck to accentuate the swell of my breasts. He fondled them roughly teasing my erect, nipples with his expert fingers, till they were so hard it hurt, as he rubbed & pinched them. He flicked my nipple bell & pinched the pert nipples again & again bringing tears to my eyes. Weighing and fondling my breasts commentating on them for the crowd. Two men from the crowd came forward to fondle me, they smiled & laughed appreciatively. I wanted to cringe and hide.
I was pushed onto all fours. The whip handle was pressed to my lips, I had to to kiss the vaguely phallic shaped handle, & to simulate fellatio on it. The handle was quite clammy & had a strong odour of female arousal. He pushed it into my mouth, opening my lips slowly but steadily, until the handle had filled me. I began to panic as he pushed it very deep. He lifted my panic filled eyes to meet those of the watching men. My pupils were dilated with fear, but also a submissive sexual arousal, I wanted the men to be pleased with me. The rest of the whip handle was pressed between my cleavage & rolled between my breasts, I massaged slowly back & forth. While I continued to kiss the head & deep throat the handle. The handle was now fully in my mouth, as I really started to choke & panic The auctioneer held the whip handle in place, continuing to massage the haft with my breasts. He was well aware of my panic, but also well used to displaying & dealing with slavegirls. I wouldn’t choke & the vulnerability in my eyes was increasing my saleability. As if to emphasise this He reached behind me & slapped my bottom. In fright, I swallowed even more of the handle, my eyes wide with distress, the crowd laughed, as I turned scarlet.
He took the whip from my mouth but stuffed a fistful of my hair into it, gagging me. & I was stood up but & bent over at the waist, with his fingers he traced my bottom, the lips of my vulva. He teased the bell on my clitoris, teased my clitoris with his finger. I was very wet & slick, he held his finger up to the crowd. Then sharply slapped her on the buttocks his fingers catching my swollen labial lips. I squealed in pain, my cries of distress muffled by the hair gag. He continued to explore my clitoris & buttocks with his now wet fingers, as I moaned in helpless and hapless protest muffled by the gag.
“Whimper quietly slut”
I was then made to grind my buttocks & clitoris along the whip, slowly, gripping it with my wet inner thighs. Bent double in front of the crowd, moaning helplessly until the handle was soaked with my arousal. I was pushed again to my knees & holding the whip worshipfully in both my hands, licked the handle clean.
“Kiss the whip slut and beg to be bought”
“Please Masters please buy this girl , take her home and open her for your pleasure.” I begged as I kissed the whip
Then in tears I was faced away from the crowd & the bidding started. Utterly humiliated & broken, I sobbed listening to the shouted bids and the coarse laughter As I was led down the stone steps, sold. The other vended girls, marked with a grease pen on the buttocks. Marked so the smith new who we now belonged to & could mark us appropriately. They were all kneeling crying helplessly. Even the Gorean girls who had been sold before. Crushed sobbing with shame & humiliation. How pathetic they were, & so deserving of their strict bondage. Just like me.
I could already smell the burning flesh, hear the screams of the first girl being branded. Feel the terrible fear of the branding iron.
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