Allison's Descent into Slavery Pt. 03

I was all pumped up to perform my routine perfectly after his pep talk during which he sounded genuinely concerned for me. I felt so fortunate to have this man selling me today.

The next forty-five minutes went by in a flash. I hydrated, completed my stretching routine, and practiced my tilt moves. I focused on my performance, shutting out what was happening around me. My pussy was dripping without diddling myself, but the handlers kept urging us all to lather up.

All of a sudden the slave wranglers were lining us up and then we were crammed into this dark chute with Lindsey right in front of me. It smelled like wet pussy in there with my tits pressed into Lindsey's back in front of me. Sandy was behind me, her large breasts crushed against my back, she kept hitting my ass with her hand as she furiously masturbated. I started diddling myself, accidentally climaxed in the line, and then started working up for the next one, carefully edging myself so that I would be on the verge of another climax when it was my turn to run onto the auction block.

I did reach around and give Lindsey a hug as I whispered in her ear, "You are strong, we will be ok, maybe the same master will buy us both." I now had a feeling of kinship with her based on our shared experience and believed it was mutual. She nodded and reached back with her left hand and patted my thigh in thanks, I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze and then she was gone.

Next thing I know I was next up, standing in the dark, playing with my wet cunt to the sounds and smells of the other girls masturbating behind me, staring at the door in front of me, a naked Sandy still pushing behind, her large tits in my back, her hand rubbing against my ass as she diddles herself.

My impression was that for Natasha being sold on the auction block was one of the most memorable sexually exhilarating experiences of her life. I remembered Natasha describing her experience rolling in the sand on the auction block. How she recalled the distinctive smell and feel of the sand on her body. Her vivid recollection of her orgasm squirting in the sand while performing her block routine.

Would it be the same for me I wondered, as I massaged my soaking wet cunt with one hand while squeezing a nipple? Groaning in frustration I waited while my slave heat smoldered near the boiling point as the smells and sounds overwhelmed my senses. How will this day be seared into this slave cunt's memory I marveled?

Suddenly, crude words like "tits," "cunt," and "ass" seemed natural to describe myself as a slave. Ever since I polished the pussy post this morning in front of my future mother-in-law my arousal had been increasing exponentially until now, when I felt that all my sexual energy was ready to explode. I realized at that moment that I too would climax in the sand while being sold. I again wondered, what is wrong with me?

The gate sprung open in front of me and I was blinded by the light as I moved forward through the door. A slave wrangler slapped me hard on my ass to get me moving. Next thing I was running onto the auction block.

As I approached the stage, I performed a graceful Grand Jete with both legs completely extended, toes pointed; with the split its widest at the height of the arc of my jump. I was breathing in as my legs were fully extended to increase the height and appearance of flying before landing in the center of the block on two feet. I smoothly assumed the slave kneel position to the applause, jeers, and laughs of the audience.

"Slavery is my destiny, Please buy me Master," I loudly proclaimed.

I held the slave kneel position with my knees wide apart displaying my wet cunt. Looking out I was in a large theater with 400-500 people in the audience. The auctioneer introduced me as a Yankee ballerina from the Joffrey School of Ballet.

"Present," he commanded.

I gracefully moved into position, legs shoulder width apart, hands behind my head, where I again loudly announced, "Slavery is my destiny, Please buy me Master."

The auctioneer then started promoting my exquisitely sculpted ass as he directed me to turn around.

"Display," he ordered.

I smoothly bent over with my head between my knees keeping my legs straight as my long hair fell into the sand. The auctioneer then described how he believed my strong firm cheeks could crack a walnut as he left the auctioneer's stand and approached me, walnut in hand.

"The walnut or the whip," he whispered to me, as he leaned over me placing the walnut right on my rosebud between my exquisite buttocks.

I had read that some people obtained superhuman strength under stressful circumstances when their adrenaline was pumping. I raised my upper body moving into a kneeling position to get a better grip and flexed my cheeks as hard as I could. A camera projected my face on the screen above the auction block as I focused on the task at hand as the crowd quieted in anticipation. Alas, my adrenaline fueled super strength failed me and despite my best efforts the walnut remained intact.

"Slave Fours," the auctioneer commanded.

The auctioneer plucked the undamaged walnut from between my cheeks and slapped my ass hard with his other hand.

"I thought she would be the one with those buns of steel," he proclaimed, returning to the podium.

Unbeknownst to me the auctioneer had accomplished his goal of focusing the buying audience's attention on my most spectacular asset, leaving me in slave fours with a red handprint on my right ass cheek.

Then he flicked his whip in the sand commanding, "Pirouette, ballerina."

I jumped to my feet and performed the best pirouette that I could in my bare feet in the sand. I then transitioned to my tilt move, staying on my left toe facing the audience. I raised my right leg 180 degrees from my left leg with the knee bent, toes on my right foot pointing to the ground. Holding my arms over my head, I then straightened my right leg until the toe pointed to the ceiling, my wet cunt and ass lewdly exposed to the audience. With my right hand, I grabbed my right foot and performed another pirouette, holding this indecent position to the raucous cheers of the crowd.

After completing two rotations, I stopped, facing the crowd. Running two fingers from my left hand through my dripping pussy lips, I scooped up a profuse amount of pussy juice then brought my fingers to my mouth. I sucked them in my mouth and then pulled them out, licking them with my tongue to ensure I captured every drop all while holding the tilt position.

"I am so wet for you master," I proclaimed.

Unable to hold the tilt position any longer I dropped to the kneeling position to start my block moves. The whole time the auctioneer was soliciting bids.

With a seductive look on my face I pleaded, "Master, may I please suck your big cock?" I then flipped over to slave fours, looking over my right shoulder to the audience with my naughty look and slapped my firm picturesque buns of steel hard twice, making a loud smacking sound while reddening my ass cheeks.

"Spank me when I'm bad, spank me haaaard," I said in my naughty voice, while giving myself one more hard spank.

I then dropped my face and tits into the sand, spreading my knees far apart to lewdly expose my leaking cunt and rosebud chanting, "Master, fuck this horny slave in her dripping wet cunt. Jam your big hard cock up my tight ass and fuck me hard," while furiously masturbating.

"Let me cum with you, creaming all over your cock as you flood me with your cum," I pleaded, after I flipped over onto my back feverishly working my clit and fondling my breasts.

The humiliation of exposing myself in such an obscene way in front of hundreds of people was incredibly arousing. Seeing stars and flashes of color before my eyes I shuddered, squirting copious amounts of fluid out into the sand in front of me, cumming hard in the most powerful orgasm of my life as I collapsed, the intensity of this climax forever seared into my memory.

The auctioneer brought me out of my reverie when he flicked my right breast with his whip.

"Slave kneel," he ordered.

The rest of my auction occurred in a blur responding instinctively to his orders as the bidding continued, "Squat," "Present," "Display," "Slave Fours, "Flip Over," "Sold," and the gavel came down with a loud "Crack." I had been sold! Is this for real!

I listened for the auctioneer to announce, "This is an Any Chance sale and the time starts now." But it never came. I had actually been sold! I was now a slave!

"Who bought me? Where was Amelia? Does she even know I had been repossessed by the bank? What happens now?" I wondered standing in the sand in a daze.

Then I saw myself on the television monitor covered in sand. It was everywhere on me. In my hair, on my feet, stuck to my legs, knees, breasts and arms. There were particularly large clumps around my pussy, which was visibly wet and starting to drip down my thighs again. I could feel the sand in between my toes, in the crack of my ass, in my pussy and tasted it in my mouth.

I was standing there panting while blushing in humiliation, stupidly looking around with a 'what now' expression on my face. I had a vacant sex-crazed look in my eyes; I had become the total pleasure slut that Amelia envisioned when she encouraged me to embrace the slave experience while I was here. The stupid, slutty slave whore that brazenly masturbates until she squirts hard in the sand while being sold.

I was still coming down from the most intense orgasm of my young life as it dawned on me that I was not playing a slave girl anymore. This was real and I had been sold. Yet still I was sexually aroused, wanting more, like the little slave girl that I role played for Calum. What was happening to me? Had the submissive that Amelia saw hidden within me broken free?

Then two slave wranglers approached me as the auctioneer slapped my ass, propelling me towards them and reality hit hard, someone owned me now. One slave wrangler held a slave goad in his hand, waving it in front of my face as he turned it on to send me a very clear message.

"Back hands," ordered the other slave wrangler.

I quickly complied, putting my hands behind my back and the next thing I knew I was in handcuffs connected with a small chain that easily clipped onto my collar. My hands were secured in the middle of my back, well above my ass.

"Your ass is all mine if you misbehave," said the slave wrangler as he slapped my ass with his whip.

"Open that slut mouth nice and big for me," ordered the wrangler as he pulled out a bite gag.

When I opened my mouth, he jammed the bite gag into my mouth, pulling it secure into the back of my jaw and locking it in place. It was a foul-tasting piece of industrial rubber that tasted like it had never been washed, complete with the teeth marks from previous owners.

The clerk of the auctioneer reached over, using some tool to remove my blue ballerina cattle tag from my ear. He then put a sticker with a bar code on an orange "sold" cattle tag and attached it to my other ear. The sting brought me back to my senses, reminding me again that I had been sold as a slave. I was merchandise, a commodity, a piece of livestock, not a person anymore.

The wranglers marched me to the edge of the stage, picked me up by my arms and lowered me over the edge where another slave wrangler reached up, grabbing me by my armpits and lowered me to a concrete floor. He attached a leash to my collar and led me off as the auctioneer was introducing the next slave for sale. He pulled me around the front of the stage, through a door and then through a second door. I had thought that things could not get worse, but it quickly got real.

My descent into slavery truly became a nightmare when I was confronted by hot air and the stench of burning flesh and urine. I was shoved into the room and secured to a pole by the door. In front of me was the branding bench, occupied by the bound struggling Lindsey who had gone out the chute before me.

"This one gets it on the left cheek," advised one wrangler as he carefully cleaned the sand off her left butt cheek.

The other wrangler was waiving the hot brand in front of the face of the terrified Lindsey.

"Do you think it's hot enough to get a good sizzle?" he teased her.

I could not see Lindsey's face but her head pulled away from the brand as she squeaked out a protest. Tears flooded down her cheeks running to the ground. He then put it back in the fire while another wrangler proceeded to wipe down her left buttock with an antiseptic pad.

Seeing the slave's buttock was ready, the wrangler pulled out the brand, strode behind her and got himself into position. Without any hesitation, he lined up the brand with her exposed buttock and applied it to her unprotected flesh. There was an audible sizzle, the smell of burnt flesh, and a muffled cry from Lindsey, whereupon her bladder released and she urinated into a grate in the ground below her. Her body was frozen as tight and rigid as could be. Smoke curled up off the skin around the brand. The wrangler removed the brand from Lindsey's soft flesh, leaving behind a large discolored burn of the Big D logo seared into her left buttock.

The wrangler promptly replaced the brand into the fire for later use. Next, he patted the head of the semi-conscious Lindsey, trying to revive her. The other wrangler wiped an ointment from a bottle onto the injured flesh. He then proceeded to spray a bandage onto the wound using an aerosol can. After tending to the wound, the wranglers released the poor girl from the branding station and helped her to her feet. When she collapsed, they carried her out of the room.

The odor of burned flesh and urine, which permeated that room, would haunt me forever. I knew that nothing in my short life had prepared me for the pain that I was about to experience. I felt the wranglers quickly strap me into the branding bench with my ass up in the air.

"On the left cheek," declared a wrangler.

No thanks to Amelia, I knew exactly what that meant. The sand was cleaned off and then the antiseptic wipe felt oddly cold as it cleansed my left buttock.

The wranglers were not rubbing in any of the special pre-branding cream as described by Cindy that was used for the Trial Branding program. This was going to be a permanent brand! Tears of panic streamed down my cheeks as I unsuccessfully struggled to free myself and squealed through the gag. The wrangler pulled the brand out of the fire, walked behind me and readied himself to inflict the brand.

I felt the heat emanating off of the brand as the wrangler positioned it behind me. Then the searing heat initiated pain that screamed through every cell in my body unlike anything I had ever felt before. It felt like the brand was pressed into my sensitive flesh for days while in reality I knew it was only seconds. I felt the breath knocked out of my lungs and heard a shrill moan escape my lips through the bite stick as I tried to chew through it. I felt tears flowing down my cheeks as I peed into the grate below, my vision blurred.

"Breathe, take a deep breath," I heard a wrangler say as I felt a hand on my head shaking me back to full consciousness.

The permanence of the Big D brand burned into my buttock drove home the finality of my enslavement for me. There was no way Amelia would ever brand me like this. No longer did I harbor any doubt that I had actually been sold as the sudden dread overwhelmed me. But to whom?

A cool ointment was spread on my injury dampening the pain, followed by the application of an aerosol bandage. Strong hands pulled me to my feet as tears continued to stream down my face. I took a step forward and faltered. They grabbed my arms, helping me regain my balance as I took another step.

I was led out of the room and down the hall to an enclosure full of recently sold, and in most cases, branded slaves. My wrangler removed my bite stick, un-cuffed my hands, handed me a bottle of water and pushed me into the holding pen. Inside I found Lindsey and I drank some water and then we hugged. There was so much I wanted to say to Lindsey but at that moment all we could do was stand there hugging, comforting each other in a silent embrace, shedding tears on each other's shoulders.

(to be continued)