Bound for Glory (12 page)

One of the medics lifted her the few inches it took to have her wrists buckled into soft leather suspension cuffs. Then her legs were pulled apart – with no resistance from her. To open herself to anyone was what she really wanted in any case.

Then as more and more girls were mounted, many more than had arrived in her van, she was given a brief examination by a brisk woman who inserted latex-gloved fingers into her vagina and rectum, then who palpated her breasts, looked at her teeth and took her blood pressure.

“You sluts are always a bit high, nowadays. Must be that chip making you want to rut.”

When she had finished another of the white coated medics came and pushed a steel gadget between her teeth which he then opened until Anna was gaping like a landed fish then he slotted a lever into a ratchet mechanism at one side and left her with her mouth held wide open. And at no point had she struggled, it was nice just being touched by a man and if she was good, it might take less time for her to find out how mind blowing an orgasm would be with this wonderful chip implanted. Very soon after that people began to arrive.

Anna looked at them curiously; she was aware that they were there to buy her body for their own purposes and vaguely she was aware that that thought should have shocked and angered her, but all she could really feel was curiosity about them and what use they would put her to – and how much sex would be involved.

For what felt like a tedious eternity she was poked and prodded and discussed. She was very much the centre of attention and couples, pairs of men and a few parties of obviously wealthy people queued up to have a feel of her vagina and rectum. Her breasts were hefted, squeezed and twisted, her nipples were pinched spitefully – especially by the females. Her buttocks were likewise hefted and squeezed and her thigh and calf muscles were felt and discussed. Some reached into her wrenched open mouth and yanked at her teeth. Others commented on the softness of her lips. But despite it all Anna could only feel pride – and increasingly – a desperate need to come. Her vagina had stopped stinging and was awash in juice. The fingers that plunged up into her were immediately able to penetrate as far as they needed to and were able to slip in and out of her with no problem at all. That also made their anal penetration easier and the lube that was hung on the side of the hoop that she was hung in was not needed at all.

As she noted the designer labels of the dresses and shoes of the women, it crossed her mind that someone who she had known in her previous life might attend. Even the chip couldn’t shield her from the shiver of disgust she felt at the thought of having to serve someone she was once on equal terms with, but fortunately she didn’t recognise anyone.

“How are the mighty fallen, eh?” one man said after the potential buyers had been examining the merchandise for nearly an hour. “Anna Chatham hanging up for auction!” He casually stuck the fingers of one hand into her cunt without taking his other hand out of his pocket.

“You bidding?” his male companion asked.

“Nah! No point. Apart from her name, look how she’s built! She’ll pull the crowds into any arena in the world – let alone in this country.” His thumb began to rasp at her clitoris and Anna couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through her, it was the onset of a huge orgasm that had been building up steadily. All she needed now was a few thrusts of the fingers inside her and a few harder rasps at her pounding clit and she would explode – she just knew it. From around the room strange gargling yells and groans were erupting as dental-gagged mouths expressed the orgasms the slaves were being forced to. But Anna’s tormentor didn’t even turn his head as she groaned in her build-up.

“And once those boys get bidding, there’s no way a private budget can compete,” he said and pulled his fingers out, wiping them on where her pubes were just becoming a stubbly fuzz from not having been shaved. His companion reached up and helped himself to a handful of her left tit. Anna moaned him on, begging him to take a grip on one of her throbbing nipples.

“True,” he said. “Shame though. She’s a gorgeous piece. Mind you, I think I might bid for that blonde over there. She’d go perfectly in the villa in Umbria, and the rent we could charge holiday guests for the use of a live-in slavewhore, would pay us back in no time. I could put a cage in the cellar too.” To Anna’s despair the men turned and walked over to where Tracey was hanging, leaving her forgotten, with her vagina almost fluttering and twitching in its need and an ache deep in her belly. She put her head back and almost wept in frustration but in only a couple of minutes there were more men’s voices in front of her and she looked up in hope. These were not as richly dressed as the previous pair; chinos and open-necked shirts suggested a more workaday approach.

“Now that is a bloody work of art!” one said admiringly. “Look at the legs on it! And the tits too! You don’t often get them that big on a tall piece like this one. I’ve seen photos of her of course, but when you see the whole package like this….”

The other man said nothing but took a hold on the ring and spun it so that he could examine Anna’s back and buttocks. She felt his thick, coarse fingers on her skin, tracing her muscles and also the weals from the previous day.

“She’s taken a bit of a pounding already. I guess some of the boys in blue couldn’t resist the chance. But there’s no damage done and it’s a strong back.”

Anna felt more fingers stroke her buttocks and then wrench them apart.

“Looks like she didn’t like it up there,” the first man said.

“She’ll get used to it,” his companion replied with a grim chuckle and then reached between her legs from behind. His fingers slid up into her and Anna had only a second to thank him from the bottom of her heart before the orgasm hit. Even in the stringent bondage her stomach and hips bucked, she put her head back and yelled as her mind seemed to shatter and her whole being came down to the cramping, fluttering, hot chaos that was her vagina. Once again she felt that strange pulsing in her quim and as she slumped in her chains she heard the men’s laughter.

“Bloody hell! A squirter too!” one said. A finger started to rub her clit and immediately it set off aftershocks that made her jerk and twitch and whimper. The pleasure so intense as to be almost painful.

“Well she might come loud and wet, but she won’t come cheap!” one said. “She’s the perfect build for pursuit running, chariots and racing. Too tall for dressage, but I bet you could drill her to perform solo with the studded whip. And what you could make in dungeon hire....” Anna heard him as if from a long way away, her heart was still pounding and she had been spun round again. Now the hands were on her breasts and she realised that she would come again very easily. It was an almost frightening thought.

“I reckon Demolition Derby,” one man said quietly. Anna grimly tried to concentrate, to stave off the threatening climax that hung over her like a huge wave.

“You could be right. And the boss has been given big bucks to spend on that. I’ll vid him now and show him.”

The hands left her breasts and she groaned her mingled disappointment and relief as one man held up his phone and spoke when the call was answered.

“You seeing this, Boss? I’ve had a close look and I think we ought to bid.” He held the phone up as he spoke so that the man on the other end could see her. A tinny voice made a reply she couldn’t make out.

“Okay, will do. I’ll keep the phone on during the bidding,” he concluded, broke off the call, pocketed the phone and then he and his companion wandered off deeply engrossed in their brochure. Anna was left seething with disappointment and relief in equal measures, but after only a few minutes the relief had faded and she needed another of those cataclysmic orgasms again. She got one.

Her arms had begun to ache and her hips too. The buyers were beginning to file out of the hall and the cries of pleasure wrung from the slaves were becoming less frequent when a woman walked over and grinned up at her. Anna’s head was resting against one raised arm and she was panting in discomfort and stress.

The woman was immaculately dressed and her grin was not pleasant, it was predatory.

“You belong there, you know. I can tell, men can’t but a woman can. You were born to scream and cry for others’ pleasure, and to be made to scream and cry whenever they want you to. That chip’s only broken down the walls that were holding your true whore-self in check.” The woman reached out and Anna felt a sharp nail trace a pattern on the inside of her right thigh, making her shudder with excitement. “Wherever you end up today, it’ll be where you belong, you slut.”

The two women locked gazes and then the free one smiled fiercely and thrust two fingers straight up into Anna’s cunt and twisted them. Immediately the threatening orgasm crashed through Anna, setting her limbs shaking, blinding her and taking her breath away in the ferocity of the ecstasy.

By the time she had regathered her scattered wits, the woman had gone but her words lingered on and she wondered again about how readily she had responded to her mistreatment even before the chip had been implanted.

Chapter Nine

The auction was held only an hour after the girls had been taken down and given a short rest. They were kept in a long room, sitting in a line, naked, on a bench that ran along one wall. They were given a simple tag to hang round their necks, each tag had a number which was their lot number. Anna’s was fourteen. Tracey, sat next to her and squashed against her so that her thigh distractingly rubbed against Anna’s was thirteen. Beyond the door at the end opposite to the one they had been led in by they could hear the buyers filing in, refreshed after a lunch laid on by the auction house. The slaves had been given some bread and cold meat. In front of the line of naked girls waiting to be sold, a single guard strolled up and down, idly twirling his goad and occasionally running it across their breasts, then laughing uproariously at the way they all sat bolt upright and stuck them out proudly, desperate for any touch they could get.

When they had been taken down from the rings in the examination room, all of them had been dazed and exhausted by the violence of their orgasms at first, but after only half an hour or so they had all experienced an odd – almost physical – need to experience more. The rule of silence was absolute but the girls all exchanged sheepish smiles and began to wriggle and squirm as their nakedness and the proximity of men had worked on their new natures or - as Anna was beginning to suspect was the case in her regard – her newly
released
nature.

As they all heard the auctioneer take the stage and bring proceedings to order however, fear and curiosity finally overcame whatever it was the chip was controlling and besides, another guard entered bringing several boxes of shoes with him. With squeals of delight the girls fell on them.

“Get yourselves sorted, you silly bitches,” he told them. “Get the highest heels you can manage! Anyone who doesn’t sell today goes into solitary for a week until the next auction – and we make sure you can’t touch yourself anywhere! So make sure you sell!”

There was a gasp of dismay from all of them as they heard the potential sentence and then they renewed their frantic searches. Anna found herself a pair of red court shoes with five inch heels – a height she was used to – the colour suited her tanned complexion and light brunette colouring, they were a bit too small but then she wouldn’t need them for long. Tracey came up grinning broadly with a pair of white slingbacks on four inch shiny metal heels. Anna reckoned they suited her in pretty much all ways, and certainly the height of the heels would show of her chubby buttocks and plump but pleasant thighs to good effect. They had only just all settled back onto the bench when a guard poked his head round the door and summoned Lot One. The girls listened tensely but couldn’t make out the individual words of the auctioneer’s fast patter, but soon they heard the gavel bang and Lot Two was summoned.

When it was Tracey’s turn she stood up, wriggled her feet in her shoes to settle herself and gave Anna a quick smile before following the man out into the auction room. It suddenly hit Anna that it was quite probably the last time she would ever see the only person who had been in any way kind to her since this whole horrible business had started. She listened intently and the patter seemed to go on for a long time before the gavel banged, either Tracey had fetched a good price or selling her had been hard work – either way she had no time to think. She was called to be sold.

She stood up, her heart thundering, but had the presence of mind to squirm her feet solidly into the shoes and to make sure she walked proudly and self-confidently out to meet the buyers.

Anna found herself on a stage which had a long catwalk protruding from it out into the auditorium. The buyers were seated in rows on either side. It was a scenario that she was used to and suddenly, even though she was stark naked apart from outrageous heels, she relaxed. Now it came to it, the idea of being sold into sexual slavery wasn’t so bad. The experiences of the past few days had been intense beyond anything she had ever known and Robyn’s words came back to her; it was going to happen so make the best of it. Now what she wanted, she realised was to cost someone very dear indeed and then make it worth their while. But she was surprised that the sale didn’t proceed immediately.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, as I’m sure you realise, Lot Fourteen is no ordinary sale and so Ordleys are offering it with full provenance so that the lucky buyer knows that he or she really owns the genuine article; to whit, Anna Chatham, ex-model and celeb,” she heard the auctioneer say. Without realising she had done so she had relaxed into the model’s default pose of weight on one hip, other leg slightly bent and hand on that hip. Her torso had instinctively adapted to the heels and she was pushing her chest out to counter-balance the thrust her buttocks were being given by the shoes.

“We have obtained the Lot’s medical records,” the auctioneer said, holding up a bunch of papers, “which the successful bidder may keep with the purchase to help with selling on.” He stood up and approached Anna, then used a pointer to indicate her left shoulder. “You will note the ‘AC’ tattoo on the left shoulder.” He moved the pointer down. “More significantly you will note the mole just beneath the right breast, the presence of which is confirmed by the records.” The pointer moved lower. “And here, above the left knee is a small surgical scar from a skiing accident five years ago, full notes of which you will receive upon purchase. And of course, as with all Ordleys mechandise you get all the item’s ID documents.” He walked back to his podium and banged the gavel. The guard behind Anna pushed her forwards and the auction began.

Strangely the objectification of the identification process hadn’t disturbed Anna at all, it had simply fuelled her new-found determination to be a creature of pure sex and as the auctioneer asked for opening bids of one hundred thousand pounds, she began to saunter out towards the catwalk, determined to give the best performance of her life.

Walking with long, languid, flowing steps, placing her leading foot directly in line with her trailing one to put a real fuck-me sway into her hips, she oozed sex as she paraded her body for her buyers. She was used to the blinding lights and smiled out into the blackness beyond them, confident that out there somewhere was her new owner. She reached the end of the catwalk and swivelled neatly then resumed the default pose as the auctioneer, clearly revelling in dealing with a fellow professional drove the bids up into the stratosphere. To her delight there was even a chorus of wolf whistles as she gave the majority of the hall the full benefit of how she could make her buttocks roll, sway and ripple above those long thighs that seemed to the buyers sitting below her, to go up into the same atmospheric regions the sums being bid for her were now reaching. As she returned to the stage and swung round once more, she was vaguely aware of the bids coming more slowly. That meant that she was nearly sold; she tried to see beyond the lights but couldn’t. The bids kept coming so she set out onto the catwalk again. This time she ran her hands down her hips and thighs and then drew them up the fronts of her thighs, just framing the cleft of her vulva. Shamelessly she pouted at the audience and realised she had never enjoyed a catwalk so much before. This time it was so much more real. The buyer this time was actually buying her entire body and her life for the next God-knew how many years. They could legally whip her, fuck her, prostitute her to others to do the same with her, sell her – and she would have no say in the matter. The chip kicked in.

By the time she had reached the end of the catwalk for the second time, she could feel her belly melting and glowing while her thighs were beginning to slide wetly past each other.

“Come along now, ladies and gentlemen. I think we can all see we’re not dealing with any common or garden slut here! This is a truly first class slut!” the auctioneer called as the wolf whistling began again amid laughter and she swayed her way back towards the stage.

“Half a million I’m bid! Any advances! Going once! Five hundred and seventy! With you, Sir!”

Anna resumed the position at the front of the stage and kept her smile fixed as she gazed into the blinding battery of lights.

“Going once! Going twice. Sold! Lot Fourteen for six hundred thousand!”

The guard took her arm, and Anna couldn’t help but notice he did so with a little more respect than before, and guided her through a door at the centre of the backstage.

“Nice one!” he whispered. “A few more like you and we could all retire early.”

She was put in a holding cell until the end of the auction. It was a narrow, breeze block cubicle, barely wide enough for her body to fit into. Her arms were raised and shackled to cuffs hanging from the ceiling and the barred door was slammed shut and locked until such time as she met her owner.

In due course one of the men who had videoed her in the examination room claimed her by buckling a collar around her neck, turning her round – with some trouble in the narrow confines – fitting new cuffs to her wrists and then lowering them one by one and clipping them together behind her back.

“I don’t think you’d struggle much, but with a price tag like you’ve got I’m not about to take a chance!” he said then he led her out and onto a loading bay like the one at which they had arrived and into the back of a relatively small van. It had benches down each side and her wrists were released then clipped to chains hanging from the roof before she was allowed to sit on one, idly noting that the wood of the seat was oddly stained.

A few minutes later the man returned with Tracey, also collared and leashed. The girls almost broke into delighted greetings but both got a jolt from the goad before they could say a word. The man stayed on guard until his companion turned up with two more girls on leashes, one was the Asian girl who had arrived with them. She still looked as nervous as ever and her lovely eyes were wide with apprehension. If they had been bought by an arena stable, Anna wondered what use they would find for her, she was slender and birdlike, although undeniably pretty.

“Right, you’re all the legal property of the Proteus stable now. We’re leaving right away and you’ll be at your new home this evening. We’ll be freeing one of your hands so you can keep yourselves quiet on the journey. There’ll be no stops so you’ll have to make your own arrangements girls,” one of the men told them while the other released each girl’s right hand. Then both backed out and slammed the doors behind them, leaving the girls with only the light from a small window high up at the front of the van’s load bay. They heard the engine start and they were off.

Anna briefly wondered why the men had freed one hand but then beside her, with a sigh of relief, Tracey began to rub frantically at her clitoris.

“Sorry, you guys,” she panted. “Just gotta do this!”

There was no apology needed. Opposite them the stranger and the Asian girl had followed suit and now that Anna was finally owned and her downfall was complete, she felt no compunction about joining in and soon the van echoed to cries of orgasmic relief as the four girls spread their legs and really gave their hungry cunts all the action their fingers could provide. And after both Tracey and Anna had climaxed twice, they began to work on each other with never a second thought.

Tracey had a sizeable nubbin and Anna was merciless, pinching and grinding it as Tracey put her head back and gave tremulous little cries while multiple climaxes rippled through her, bathing Anna’s fingers in her juices. Then she returned the favour and Anna was overcome once again by the breathtaking climaxes she was now capable of and which she now fervently wished she had always known she could have. The floods of juice they both expelled went some way to explaining the stains on the benches, Anna thought. And once the immediate needs had been met, the girls settled down to companionable and relaxed explorations of each other’s vulvas. Tracey’s was neat and with small inner lips but with very plump outer labia, while Anna’s quite well developed inner ones proved interesting to Tracey’s questing fingers.

As the storms of passion subsided they began to chat and to start with they traded bits of information about what they had gleaned about the lives of arena slaves but eventually the strains of the day took their toll and they dozed. When they woke, they realised the real reason why the wood of the seats was stained. The men had meant what they said about there being no stops and the girls had no choice but to lift themselves as best they could and try to avoid wetting the bit of the seat they were sitting on as, one by one, they gave in to the need to relieve themselves.

At long last however, they felt the van make several turns, grind uphill and then stop and wait while what sounded like heavy gates were opened. A few more yards and then it stopped and the doors were opened.

The acrid smell evaporated once the air got in and in no time the girls were unshackled and allowed out. They found themselves in a large compound, with a floor of compacted earth. It was surrounded by a double fence of high wire mesh topped with razor wire and barbed wire rolls. Between the rings of fencing they could see the sinister shapes of guard dogs slinking back and forth. Over on their right was what had once been a farm house but which had been much extended. Behind it was a complex of ugly metal buildings, like barns but bigger. And behind them were four low-roofed bungalows with barred windows and heavy metal doors. On their left were more similar bungalows but with less secure fittings. Beside them was a block of stables and from them came the sounds of activity drifting over on the evening air.

As they took all this in, a man came striding across from the main house. He was tall and well-built with solid shoulders and muscular arms beneath his rolled up sleeves. He carried a riding crop which he slapped against his right leg as he strode.

When he arrived in front of the four rather tired and bedraggled purchases it became immediately clear that this was the boss.

“My name is Scott Holroyd,” he told them. “You don’t have names any more, you’ll get your numbers in the morning. I’m the manager and trainer of the Proteus stable; the best damn stable in this country, and don’t you forget it! Now you’ll get a tour of everything before you’re put down for the night and in the morning we’ll process you,” he told them in a broad Yorkshire accent. “Bring them along!”