A Stimulating Life Ch. 02

"I don't think that will be necessary," I replied timidly and I proceeded to play with my cock until it was engorged with blood and I could feel it pulsing in almost identical urgency as the pounding in my chest. When I was certain I couldn't get my cock any more swollen, I took my hands away and allowed Katherine to measure it.

She wrapped her tape measure around my swollen shaft, measured the girth and then she measured the length several times, just to make certain her measurements were accurate.

"That's an impressive size," she said, causing me to feel somewhat less humiliated.

"Some of the bidders will pay thousands extra for a cock like that," Taylor commented.

"And for good reason," Katherine retorted.

Katherine asked me a series of questions next, some sounded medical, others sounded pornographic. She wanted to know about my sexual history, if I was experienced in performing cunnilingus, if I was experienced in performing fellatio, if I was experienced in analingus, if I had any experience in being pegged by a woman, if I had any experience in being fucked by a man's cock, and dozens more questions of that nature.

Once again, I thought I was finished, but once again I was in error. It was at this point that Katherine and Taylor took blood samples so I could be tested for things like STDs and drug usage. Then I was told there was another test.

"The people who attend these auctions enjoy inflicting pain on their slaves," Katherine explained, "Mostly we're talking spankings and whippings, although some of the people out there are into using cloverleaf clamps on sensitive areas of the slave's bodies. So, before we accept applicants to sell themselves at auction, we like to test their pain tolerance."

"How do you do that?" I asked. I was still naked and my cock was still fully and humiliatingly erect and Katherine's eyes kept drifting back towards it as if my cock had hypnotic powers that forced her gaze in that direction.

"It's not as scientific as the other tests we run," Katherine explained, "but basically we subject you to some of the types of painful punishments you might encounter as a slave. You can stop the punishments at any time, but the longer you allow us to hurt you, the higher we score your pain tolerance."

"So, if I stop you too soon, I'll get a low score," I said.

"That's right," Katherine agreed, "And when people are bidding, something like a low pain tolerance will discourage people from bidding high. Nobody wants a slave that's incapable of taking harsh punishments."

I sighed heavily. I hadn't expected this, but I probably should have. These people were professionals and they were going to check everything before they let a slave set foot on the auction block. My chest was heaving, and I felt panicky, but I also felt aroused. It was always like this with me, fear mixed with sexual arousal.

"So, how do we begin?" I asked.

Katherine sat down on a vinyl padded stool and explained.

"Lean forward across my lap with your hands flat on the floor and get you butt up in the air. I'm going to deliver a bare-handed spanking, and you can stop me at any time."

"But it's in your best interests, to let her keep going as long as possible," Taylor added.

"I know," I said as I got down on my knees and slid across her lap, "I want a high score on my pain tolerance."

One of the legal documents I had signed specified that employees of the Vineyard could (within certain limits) assault me and I agreed not to press any charges against them. That was to cover their asses (metaphorically speaking) when somebody like Katherine mercilessly assaulted someone like me until their bottom was red and they were reduced to tears.

Katherine looked so innocent and wholesome, I had a hard time imagining her inflicting harsh punishments, but I guess I shouldn't have judged her by her looks. About two seconds after I settled across her lap she started spanking. Her hands were strong and unyielding and delivered stinging pain right from the very first blow. I wanted to be stoic and prove my pain tolerance was higher than anyone's, however I was reduced to tears shortly after the barrage of brutal swats on my ass began. My ass felt scalded and Katherine's blows continued to rain down hard and methodically.

Her feminine hand delivered searing, hot explosions of pain that built in intensity until one of my hands darted back and swung itself over my abused buttocks in a protective gesture.

"Well, I guess we've reached your limit," Katherine said and the stinging punishment of my poor, innocent buttocks finally ended.

At Taylor's suggestion another test was done. They attached cloverleaf clamps to my nipples to see how long I could tolerate them biting into my tender pink flesh before I took them off. In the end I was awarded a pain tolerance score of 7.5.

"Is that good?" I asked.

"It's good," Katherine replied, "but I've seen higher."

Next, Taylor took me into a room where they had set up a tripod camera. I stood in front of a plain white wall and Taylor prepared to take photos of me.

"This is for the website," Taylor explained, "The Vineyard hosts a website that only our members can access. Photos and stats for each of the slaves will be on the website. The more enticing you look, the more likely people will show up to bid on you."

"Face front and don't smile," Taylor told me, "Slaves aren't supposed to smile."

I did as Taylor instructed. The photos began as fairly standard photos, face forward, turn to the left, turn to the right, however, the poses gradually became more pornographic.

"Face the wall," Taylor told me, Legs apart and lace your fingers behind the back of your neck."

"Legs further apart, raise yourself up on the balls of your feet, flex your calf muscles."

"Lean forward, hands against the wall, legs further back."

"Bend over, legs wide, spread your ass cheeks apart."

And then there were the bondage photos. We started with handcuffs, but Taylor eventually revealed that there was a trapeze bar hidden in a deep recessed area in the ceiling. Taylor lowered the trapeze bar with a push of a button and bound my wrists to it. Then he used a spreader bar to bind my ankles far apart and raised the trapeze bar up, so my feet were no longer touching the ground.

"This kind of spread-eagle, suspension bondage is popular," Taylor explained, "The way you're bound puts a strain on your pectoral and inner-thighs muscles and makes them stand out more. It also improves the look of your abs."

Taylor took dozens of photos of me in helpless spread-eagle bondage and eventually let me down. My clothes were eventually returned to me and when I was dressed, Taylor escorted me out to the lobby. Nari and Elizabeth were there waiting for me, apparently, they got processed quicker than me.

"All three of you have been entered into the system," Taylor explained, "There's a committee that meets and decides which candidates get accepted for the auction and which don't. All three of you will be contacted when the committee has made their decision."

"You mean I might get rejected?" Elizabeth asked, "After everything I went through?"

"Well, I'm too low-ranking to be on the committee so my opinion isn't worth much," Taylor admitted, "but I think the three of you will be accepted. Physical beauty seems to be the biggest factor in the decision-making process and you're some of the most attractive candidates I've seen."

Suddenly, Ms. Brand was standing behind Taylor. Apparently, she had heard our conversation and she turned to Elizabeth and added, "Bear in mind that everything you went through today is just a small taste. Going through the actual slave auction would be even more traumatizing. And spending five to fifteen days in the custody of your buyer would be even more traumatizing than the auction."

"What are saying?" Elizabeth asked Ms. Brand.

"What I'm saying is, if you get rejected, it might be to your advantage. Being able to adapt to harsh punishments and helplessness is just as important as physical beauty. And if you've found the tests we've put you through today to be too arduous or humiliating, then you definitely won't be able to handle the demands of a slave sold at auction."

"The tests were demanding," Elizabeth said, "but I'm a ballet dancer. I've spent years being ordered around and tormented by choreographers. It's grueling and painful work, but I've been doing it for years. I can handle anything."

Like the rest of us in the corps de ballet, Elizabeth had great endurance and had suffered a lot, she had sustained pulled muscles and other injuries and continued to dance. She could undergo a great deal of hardship and still perform, I just hoped she didn't jinx herself by boasting to Ms. Brand about her ability to handle punishment.