Anna's Dream

I did as she'd said. The Other Girl handed Mistress the whip, and she gave me my daily lashes. I didn't protest or move.

"Satisfactory," said Mistress. She stood me up and turned me around. "Tan's acceptable," she said. "She'll do."

The Other Girl attached a leash to my collar. They lowered a boat into the water, and Mistress climbed down a ladder and stepped into it. The Girl motioned me to follow, and I did so, being careful not to get tangled in the leash. Then the Girl followed us down the ladder, grabbed the oars, and rowed us to a wooden pier, where she moored the boat.

On the pier, the Girl bound my hands behind my back. She and Mistress led me through the town, over cobbled streets past neat whitewashed houses from whose windows the townsfolk peered at my nakedness. We hadn't gone far before a man in a crimson robe and with a big gold chain around his neck hailed Mistress. She greeted him, calling him Mayor, and they walked some distance ahead of us to talk.

When Mistress was out of earshot, I said to the Other Girl, "She's going to sell me, isn't she?"

"Yes," she said.

A knot formed in my stomach. This wasn't a good development, but I knew better than to think there was anything I could do about it. "I'm going to miss you a lot," I said.

"I'll miss you too," she said, and squeezed my arm.

The street was wider now; ahead of us was a broad plaza.

"I'm glad it wasn't you that had to be sold," I said.

She said, "Don't assume you're the one who lost the coin toss. In fact, don't assume it was even a coin toss."

I didn't know what she meant, so I just walked on beside her in silence.

In the middle of the plaza was a big wooden platform; there were numerous smaller ones around the edges. Slaves were standing on a number of these peripheral platforms, some naked and some clothed, some standing free and others wearing chains. Quaintly dressed men and women strolled by the platforms, chatting and examining the wares.

Mistress led me to an empty platform and made the Other Girl replace my leather collar with an iron one, which she attached to a post with a heavy chain. They spread my legs obscenely: my gaping pussy and uplifted breasts were displayed to the crowd that was gathering to view the new arrival.

A man in a red velvet coat, a shirt with lace ruffles, and a powdered wig came up onto our platform and said, "What manner of slave is this?"

"A fuck slave," said Mistress.

The man felt my pussy. I was wet and open, the way I'd been trained.

"Excellent," he said, and squeezed one of my breasts.

"Firm breasts," said Mistress. "You have to keep her slender - slaves of this type can easily go to seed. If you win the auction, I'll give you the diet we've been using."

"Thank you," he said. "I certainly intend to bid."

Next was a middle-aged woman. She had an ugly, cruel look, but was magnificently dressed in a huge gold-embroidered dress with an enormous lace ruff. She tested my pussy as the man had done, then pried open my mouth and peered inside. Now that she was close, I noticed that she had an unclean smell.

"Cunt licker?" she asked.

"Of course," said Mistress. "I've often used her that way myself, and found her completely satisfactory."

"How much whipping does she require?" said the woman.

"I confess she's spirited," said Mistress. "I recommend ten lashes daily - five on each side of her bottom."

"That's nothing at all," the woman sniffed. "I do not coddle my slaves the way you appear to do."

"If you win the auction," said Mistress, "she'll be yours to do with as you please."

"Indeed she will," said the woman, and huffed away.

Over the next hour or so, more than a dozen people visited our platform, all dressed in strange, old-fashioned clothes - togas, gowns, armor, habits, tunics. They all tested my pussy; some put fingers in my ass; most squeezed my breasts or tweaked my nipples; a few slapped my face or gave my bottom a stinging blow. One young woman, blond and braided, wearing a colorful kirtle with two huge brooches, got to her knees, gave my pussy a lick, and tilted her head thoughtfully, lips parted a little as if she were tasting a fine wine.

The auction began when the sun was directly overhead. The elegantly dressed men and women crowded around the central platform as, one by one, the slaves were displayed there, and their owners proclaimed their qualities to the crowd in loud voices. There were field slaves, fuck slaves, household slaves, and more. Once a slave had been announced, the auctioneer took over and conducted the sale.

It was hours before our turn came. Mistress and the Other Girl led me to the central platform and chained me there. The Other Girl called out to the crowd and said, "My Mistress is offering a full-service, all-holes fuck slave, suitable for use by both men and women. Perpetually wet, opened vaginally and anally, and educated in all the standard sexual techniques and a number of exotic ones. She's cheap to feed, has a high tolerance for pain, and is competently bucket-trained."

I was embarrassed, but didn't blush. Blushing would have been perceived as a protest and punished severely.

When the Other Girl was finished with her harangue, the auctioneer stepped up and said, "This is one of the finest fuck slaves I've ever seen at auction. Look at these firm, high breasts!" He gave one of my breasts a squeeze. "Look at these perfect, rounded, freshly striped buttocks!" He turned me around and gave my sore bottom a spank, almost making me gasp. He said, "Let's start the bidding at one hundred gold pieces. Do I hear an opening bid?"

The man who'd visited my platform first said, "One hundred."

The bad-smelling woman said, "One hundred and ten."

Another man said, "Hundred and fifty!"

The blond girl in the kirtle called, "One hundred and seventy-five!"

And so the bidding went on until my price had climbed all the way to three hundred and forty gold pieces, the last bid by the bad-smelling woman.

The auctioneer said, "Do I hear another bid?"

He surveyed the crowd, and I did too, thinking my price was something to be proud of and wanting it to go higher. Far off to one side, leaning against a column, was a man in a purple vest, blood-red pants, and a plumed hat. Something about him caught my eye, and I gave him another look.

"Master!" I gasped.

"No talking!" said the Other Girl, and gave my ass a searing blow with the leash.

I stayed quiet but stared hard at Master. He looked me in the eye and grinned. Why wasn't he bidding on me? I gave him a pleading look, but he shook his head.

"Three seventy-five!" called the first man.

"Four hundred!" said the bad-smelling woman.

The man looked doubtful for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"Do I hear another bid?" said the auctioneer. He let five seconds pass, and then said, "Sold, to the fortunate lady with the ruff!"

My heart sank. Why hadn't Master tried to get me back? I looked for him, but he was gone.

Mistress and the Other Girl unchained me, replaced my collar and leash, and led me down from the platform and over to a rough-hewn table, where the bad-smelling woman was handing a large, heavy coin purse to a man in a leather jerkin. The man spilled out the gold coins from the purse and counted the money. He separated out a few coins, put them into a box, and returned the rest to the purse, which he handed to Mistress.

Smiling, the Other Girl gave my leash to the woman. Mistress said, "I hope you enjoy your new fuck slave." Neither of them glanced my way. I'd stopped existing for them.

The woman said, "I intend to. When I get her to my ship, I'm going to take a shit and make her lick my ass clean. Then I'll give her such a thrashing as she's never had before. I hope she'll be sturdier than my last fuck slave, who wore out altogether too quickly." She led me through the crowd, still naked and with my hands tied behind me. People turned to stare as we passed, and some commented on my body, but I hardly noticed - I was in despair, thinking about what the rest of my life was going to be like. The woman led me out of the plaza and through the streets, down to the harbor.

We walked out onto a pier where a little boat was moored. A sailor helped the woman into the boat and then lifted me in, since I didn't have the use of my hands. He rowed us out to a clipper ship in the harbor. The woman gave the sailor a coin, then untied my hands. We climbed a ladder; by the time we'd gotten to the top and were stepping onto the deck, the sailor was already rowing away.

The woman led me through a group of leering sailors, all unkempt and grimy. "Don't worry, boys," she said. "You'll get your turns."

We stepped through a hatch that led down to a narrow corridor. She led me to a door at the very end and drew a chain with a bunch of keys from the folds of her vast dress. She selected a key, opened the door, and pulled me into a tiny room with a wooden privy; on the wall beside the privy was a ring from which hung a chain with a black iron collar.

She said, "Kneel, slave!" removed my leather collar, and attached the iron one, which she locked with a substantial padlock. She said, "You'll live here in the head, except when I want you for whipping or fucking, or to pass you around among the sailors. Regard the collar as part of your body: you'll wear it for the rest of your life."

She hiked up her dress and sat on the privy, ignoring me. In the tiny room her odor was nearly unbearable, and soon the smell of her shit was added to that of her body. Her diet must have been unhealthy, or perhaps she had an intestinal parasite, because the stench was overwhelming. Within seconds, my stomach was queasy with both the smell and the thought of what she was about to make me do: the bile rose in my throat.

I was sure Master didn't want me, but had only come to the auction to witness my humiliation. He cared nothing about my present misery or my dismal future: I'd be chained up in this privy, licking this vile woman's filthy ass, beaten within an inch of my life, gang-raped by the lowlifes who worked for her. My life was over.

The thought made my nausea worse: my stomach was starting to heave; it was a struggle to keep it under control. Just when my insides seemed about to leap into my throat, and I was sure I was going to vomit all over the woman's dress (what a beating I'd get then!), her chin quite suddenly fell to her breast and she began to snore loudly.

Light footsteps sounded in the corridor, and the door opened. It was the Other Girl - still naked, like me. She slipped into the head silently, found the woman's keys, released me, and whispered, "Come quickly!" We ran out of the room and down the corridor, jumping over a sailor who was curled up on the floor sucking his thumb. We climbed the ladder and emerged onto the deck, where sailors were sprawled here and there, sound asleep.

"How did you do this?" I asked as the Girl clambered onto a ladder that led to a little boat bobbing in the sea below us.

"Quick!" she ordered. "They'll wake up soon!"

I climbed into the boat, and she rowed us across the harbor to a yacht - Master's yacht! She rowed alongside and gave me a boost onto the boat; I pulled her up after me.

Master was lounging on a cushioned bench, drinking an iced tea - he was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen, in salmon shorts and a gray tank top. He smiled, stood up, and came towards us.

"Master," I said, and fell to my knees in front of him.

The Girl said to him, "Now it's time for you to keep your side of the bargain. There's a slave market on another island a day's sail from here. I hear there are Amazonian traders there who'll pay almost any price for a blond girl."

I was instantly frightened and confused. "What's this bargain?" I asked.

The Girl said, "Your Master's going to sell me. That was my price for stealing you for him."

"But why?" I asked.

"Mistress gave me to him. I don't think she meant to, but that's what she did. Now he has to dispose of me."

"She's got some kind of curse on her," said Master.

"It's a tedious story," said the Girl. "Many years ago I refused to sleep with some sorcerer, and he cursed me to perpetual slavery. Never say no to a sorcerer - they're really vindictive. Mistress owned me for a while, but when I was on your Master's boat and she said, 'I'm giving you to him,' she, well, actually gave me to him. You've got to be careful how you phrase things when you're dealing with curses. They're very literal-minded."

"Why not just go on belonging to Master?" I said.

"She's a lesbian," said Master. "She had sex with me because she had to, and she was amazing, but she didn't care for it at all, and she was miserable without a woman around. Finally we just settled for whipping . . ."

"Master's really good with the whip," said the Girl dreamily.

"I know," I said.

"And then," Master continued, "when it looked like her Mistress wasn't going to give you back, we made the bargain. She'd find you for me, and I'd sell her, making sure she went to a woman."

"I don't want you to go," I said to the Girl. "Please, Master, don't sell her. She can go on belonging to you, and have me for a lover."

"I love you," said the Girl, "but it wouldn't make any sense for me to stay. The relationships would be way too tangled."

"We could make it work," I said, "I know we could." I turned to Master. "She just saved me from a living death. You can't sell her to strangers after that."

"I've been sold to strangers before," said the Girl. "There are worse things."

"Why can't I just give you back to your Mistress?" said Master.

"She'd never take me back, after the things I've done," said the Girl.

"I would, and I will," said Mistress, climbing onto the deck and grinning a grin that showed her teeth and turned my blood to ice. "And once you're mine again, I'll hang you from the boom and let you dangle there for a century. I'll flay you till your blood puddles on the deck. I'll build a fire under you and roast you slow. I'll flog your cunt till it looks like a butterfly chop. And that's just the beginning. I swear to you, you'll spend every minute of every day howling in agony."

I shuffled forward on my knees and flung my arms around Master's thighs. "Please, Master, don't let Mistress do those things. Please, let's keep her. Master, I'm begging you!"

I looked up into Master's face so he could see the tears in my eyes. He always liked it when I wept and begged.

"I'll do anything, Master!" I said.

"Anything?" he asked. "Even that thing that you've been thinking of making into a hard limit?"

The Girl said, "You'd really take me back, Mistress?"

"Of course," said Mistress. "There's never been a slave to equal you in the whole history of the world. I can't believe I ever considered selling you."

"And you'd do all those things - for me?"

"I'd do more than that for love of you, Girl," said Mistress, "and for your correction."

The Girl fell to the deck and clutched Mistress's ankles. "I love you so, Mistress," she wept. "I'll be yours forever."

"You want me to sell you to her, then?" said Master.

"Yes, please, Master," said the Girl. "I'll go with her."

Mistress produced the heavy coin purse from somewhere, took out three gold coins, and gave them to Master. "Take these to a reputable auction house," she said. "They'll make you rich."

"She's yours now," said Master, saying the words that would transfer ownership back to Mistress as he slipped the coins into his pocket.

The Girl and I spent several minutes hugging, kissing, and weeping, and she and Mistress climbed into their boat, where the Slave Boys were waiting to row them to their yacht. We watched them till they were out of sight.

Master pulled me to him and said, "What am I going to do with you, slave? It's obvious that you're still unruly, misbehaved, disobedient, and disrespectful."

"Yes, Master," I said. "That part of my training seems not to have stuck. But I'm always wet and open, I never close my legs, and I've gotten used to ten lashes a day. I'm an excellent fuck slave, and I'm yours."

"I liked it when you begged for your friend," he said.

"I love to grovel and beg," I breathed. My begging had turned me on; my pussy was running and my breath was coming in gasps. "And when you do just the opposite of what I begged for." I was choked up now. "And when I fall at your feet and scream for mercy, and you tell me to stop being a baby . . ."

"Yeah," he said, shoving me to my knees. He unzipped his shorts and said, "What are you going to beg me for now?"

Eyes wide, I backed away from Master, shrinking towards the gunwale.

"Please, Master," I said, voice breaking, "don't be rough with me! Don't tie me up so I can't move an inch. Don't paddle my bottom till I cry. Don't spank my pussy till I'm shrieking stop! Don't batter my throat with your big cock while I can't lift a finger to protect myself." My voice rose from a whine to a wail. "Have mercy, Master! Don't put clamps on my nipples and pussy lips! Don't put the big butt plug in me!"

Master was grinning, stepping out of his shorts and advancing on my cringing form.

"Oh, Master!" I pleaded. "Please don't torture my clit with the big vibrator!"

I cowered against the gunwale as he loomed over me, fingers curved around his long, thick cock, its foreskin retracted and the head dark, moist, and engorged.

I was weeping now and choking out my words. "Oh, Master, please don't hammer my poor tender pussy and ass with that huge cock!"

He reached down and seized a fistful of my hair.

I curled into a tight ball and whimpered, "Please, Master, I'm begging you!"