"Any Chance?" Auction Pt. 01

"I guess so. But it sure sounded like he was talkin' about you. So yer' sayin' they're anyn't no pictures of you like that? Buffin' yer button?"

"I didn't say that. What I'm saying is that your mother and father would never talk about me that way, and if there were any pictures of me like that -- and I'm not saying there are or aren't -- he wouldn't look at them. Now go to bed, Skeeter."

"Uh...Anna-Annie? Don't tell mom I called, okay? And don't tell her I squealed on Dad."

"I won't. Be good, and go straight to bed. No funny business under the covers, thinking about those pictures of me, okay?"

"No, Ma'am. I'd never... I mean, not in a disrespectful way, anyway."

"That's good. Good night, Squirt."

"Nighty-nite, Ann-Annie!"

As soon as I hung up the phone with Skeeter, I dialed his mother.

"Hello, Rita? This is Annie. No, I'm fine, how are you? Is that offer to come down and visit you still open? Great. Well, why wait for Christmas? I'll come down and see you this weekend. No, I'll just stay at your house on Saturday. As for Sunday... I understand Sunday is a slow night, and I was wondering if there is any room at the kennels at The Big D?"

XXX

Rita lived on the Northwest side of the city, so after picking me up at the Dallas/Fort Worth Airport she took me home along the Lyndon B Johnson Freeway, also known as the 635. It was a short drive, but it gave us a chance to talk privately.

Although the holidays were still a few weeks away, I had brought some wrapped Christmas presents I knew everyone would love. The previous Christmas I bought Skeeter some super-fancy $1,500 cowboy boots. Rosco liked them too, so this year I got Rosco boots of his own. Rita agreed it was the perfect gift.

Skeeter had a yellow belt buckle with a Mosquito outline etched into it. He loved it, but it was pretty tarnished, so I got him a new one with a genuine gold finish.

"That's a pretty dog-gone expensive gift for a 21-year-old boy, Anne"

"No problem-o. I can afford it."

"That ayn't what I meant. I don't believe in flaunting money they way you city folks do."

"Dallas isn't Green Acres, Rita, and there's plenty of folks with money around here. Let me spoil him a little. You won't mind so much when you see what I got you."

Rita smiled. "What'cha get me?"

"It's wrapped. And you'll have to wait till Christmas. No peeking!"

Rita frowned as I laughed mischievously. "Really, Annie, you are such a little brat. Bet ya' don't look so sassy when they put ya' in the slave pens on Sunday night. Pleasure Sluts don't get to wear no sassy pants. They don't get to wear no pants at all!"

My smile faded as the power shifted between us. "So, we're really going to do this?" I asked tentatively. "I mean, for real?"

"Sure 'nuff. Got your reservation all setup, all nice and official. I'm fixin' to kennel me some slave pussy, Sunday night, right after supper."

"What did you tell Rosco and Skeeter?"

"I told 'em I'll be ridin' ya' into town and dropping you off at the Ritz Carlton for some meetin' Monday morning. Sorta-kinda true. Just yer hotel's gonna be a might less fancy, ha-ha!"

"Well, I am going to be going in undercover. Should I use my real name?"

"They're gonna check your SIN# on your lip, dummy, so yeah, we gotta use your REAL name. Don't worry, you ayn't that famous. You may be a big wheel in Chicago, but at The Big D, you'll be just more pussy-on-the-shelf."

"Are they going put me on a shelf?"

"I dunno. It's just a sayin'. Don't make a big deal out of everythin'."

"Will they recognize you?" I asked. "I mean, Rosco is a manager there."

"They got a lot of newbees and temps on Sundays. Plus, I don't go there much, except for the Christmas party. This is a real slow time, because the Christmas shoppin' at The Big D don't start till about a week before Christmas, then it goes crazy."

"Why so late?"

"Because buyers don't wanna pay kennel fees through Christmas, and it's kind of hard to hide a naked slave girl in the closet, dummy. You hit your head on the plane, or what?"

I frowned as she laughed at me again. In Chicago, she was the tenderfoot, but now it was my turn, and she was enjoying every minute of it.

Rita continued. "Sunday's slow, and early December is slow, and Rosco's the Sunday night manager. So, it's a good time to check things out. I figure we'll use your credit card, though, so they don't see I got the same last name as the night manager."

"So do you think Rosco's... doing things with the slave girls?"

"Hells-bells, girl, I don't care. I mean, it's kinda nice to know, but truth is, I married a slaver, and slavers dip-their-wick. All part of the job. But I do appreciate you checkin' it out for me. I am kind of curious about what the place is like, and Rosco's tight-as-a-tick. You can get the straight poop. Oh, look, there it is!"

Rita pointed out the window, and I strained to spot The Big D Slave Market in the sea of highway signs.

"I don't see it," I said, struggling to see. "Is it by the McDonald's sign?"

"Nope, further. Closer to Wallmart."

"I don't see it."

"Dang girl! Have you gone slave stupid?"

"Oh, the Big D, made out of rope!" I shouted out. "Next to the BBQ sign, with the smiling pig on it."

"That's it!", Rita said. "Pig Face Bar-b-que! Sometimes Rosco strolls over there on break. Some of the best BBQ in Dallas, and it's right next to The Big D. Joke is, in Dallas we keep all the sows together."

I tensed a little at the 'sow' comparison. "Maybe I could try the BBQ when I'm over there."

Rita guffawed at that one. "Shit girl, you did just fall off the turnip truck, didn't ya? SLAVE GIRLS don't get lunch breaks, ha-ha!"

As Rita laughed at my faux pas, I found myself blushing, which amused her all the more.

"Damn, girl, your fidgeting like a cat in room-a-rockin' chairs. You nervous?"

"Of course, I'm nervous. Aren't you?"

Rita smiled broadly as she stared out at the open highway. "Nope! I'm cool as a cucumber. In fact, I'm kinda lookin' forward to it."

"What do you mean?"

"You're prettier than a peach, and curvier than a coke bottle, and don't you know it! You always were a tease, even growin' up. Wearing your short dresses, and flirtin' with my men. Showing Rosco and Skeeter your gradin' certificate, and Pleasure Slut tattoo on your lip, like ya' didn't know that wouldn't make their imaginations run WILD."

"I was just having a little fun," I said sheepishly. "Nothing wrong with flirting. It's fun."

Rita laughed. "Well, I reckon now it's my turn to have the fun. I'm gonna enjoy seein' you buck naked and collared, jist like a REAL Pleasure Slut! You talked-the-walk, not it's time for you to walk-the-walk. Prime Minus! Time to see if yer' all hat and no cattle. Since I'll be using your credit card to pay the kennel fee, I might even see if they'll throw in a few extras."

"Extras?" I asked. "What sort of extras?"

"Maybe they could put in one of those little vibrator implants, so I turn on my phone app and make you cum. Or maybe we could butt brand you!"

I shouted at her as she laughed. "Come on, Rita! Nothing permanent. Promise!"

"Okay, I promise. Nothing permanent. But I'm gonna ask about extras, jist to hear what they got."

"Well, okay," I said. "No harm in asking, I guess." Truth is, despite the risks, or perhaps because of them, I was dying to know.

"I am going in undercover, after all. When you check me in, we want it to look realistic."

"Darn-tootin' it's gonna be realistic," she said, the amusement in her voice vanishing. "I'm gonna kennel ya' just like any other Pleasure Slut. I love you, Annie, but yer the biggest smarty pants I know. Always so sure of yerself, thinkin' you know everything! It's kind of fun seein' all fidgety, back on your heels, as yellow as mustard. I'm gonna enjoy takin' you down a peg or two. And if ya' get lippy, and I gotta whip yer city-girl ass, I won't exactly be hatin' that, neither."

Without even thinking about it, I nervously slid my hands under my bottom as we pulled onto Rita's street. "Well, I did want an authentic experience," I agreed, both wanting it and not wanting it at the same time.

"Well here we are, home, sweet home!"

That night, I treated the family to dinner, taking them to one of the best steakhouses in Dallas, where Skeeter enjoyed a $75 bone-in-fillet and a $60 lobster "appetizer", much to his mother's dismay. But it was almost Christmas, and his aunt wanted to spoil him.

Maybe to annoy Rita, or maybe just for fun, I wore my sexiest, strapless little-black-dress and made sure both Rosco and Skeeter got an eyeful. I even flirted with the waiter, and got our table a LOT more attention as a result. After all, if Rita was going to call me a Pleasure Slut, why not play the part?

Dinner was nice, and Rita brought up the problem Skeeter had at school with being unable to slave-grade Miss Holiday. Apparently, it was a bit of a crisis, because if the grade stuck it would be Skeeter's first "B" in college.

As Rita described what had happened, Skeeter looked at me nervously, worried that I'd spill the beans. But I didn't let on that he had talked to me, and even complimented him for being 'a gentleman' with his former teacher.

"Gentleman my ass," his father shot back. "Once you slip a collar on 'em, they're Pleasure Sluts, plain and simple. If you love cows, don't open a hamburger stand."

I blushed a bit at this, much to Rita's amusement. Not noticing, Rosco continued his tirade. "I know Armstrong, cuz he works at The Big D. Good man. Skeeter screwed up, but Armstrong will give 'em an 'A'... as soon as he earns it."

With that he shot his son a stern glance. Sensing Skeeters pain, I asked Skeeter how he liked his first ever lobster, and his first ever bone-in-fillet. He approved heartily of both, and complimented me on how "hot" I looked, causing his mother to give me a sour look and a near fatal dose of side-eye.

The next morning I slept in, and when I awoke Rita and I went shopping. I wore a really cute belly shirt, short-shorts, and Gucci thong sandals. When Rita saw me, she rolled her eyes.

"Skeeter and Rosco are out, so there is nobody to tease. Geez, you sure do like to show skin. Don't you know it's December?"

"I'm from Chicago, and this is summer to me. You want me to change?"

"No, it's fine. You'll be wearing even less tonight."

Rita laughed as I went flush.

The shopping excursion went fantastic. As a treat, I bought Rita a bag that she deemed "way to expensive", two "overpriced designer dresses", and two pairs of shoes she described "as heavenly, but I'd never spend that kind of money!" I paid for it all. It was a fun day, and there was no mention of my evening appointment at The Big D, except for one teasing comment that "You're not gonna buy your way out of this, ya' know!" when I gave her my card to pay for her $750 shoes.

Rita seemed to remember something as we walked past the mall's UPS store. "Hang on, I gotta run an errand." I followed her inside.

The man inside a tall, chubby Texan who looked to be about 60. His name tag read "John". "Howdy, ladies! What can I do for you today?"

"Lookin' to get this notarized," Rita said, pulling a folder out of her bag. Turning to me she explained, "I need ya' to gimme power of attorney".

"Power of attorney?" I said, a little shocked. "Do you really need that?"

"I might. Remember, yer gonna be naked in a cage, with a bit in yer mouth. Anyn't nobody gonna be listening to YOU."

I examined the document skeptically. "But this is awfully broad. This give you power over... everything."

"Don't ya' trust me, little sister?" Rita said.

"No, it's not that... it just... with this, you could enslave me."

"Girl, you are as dumb as a box of rocks! I need that power to KEEP you from gettin' enslaved. Look, Rosco works there. If I wanted to enslave ya', he'd find a way. But if you don't trust me, fine. It's yer auction!"

I frowned. I knew she was right, and it was idiotic of me to go into slave market, buck naked, without a solid backup plan. But if I signed the document, my fate would be totally in her dishpan hands.

"I'd bid on you," John offered, breaking the silence.

Turning to my would-be notary, I realized he was listening to the entire conversation, and judging from the bulge in his pants he was enjoying the conversation very much. He smiled as he openly ogled my legs and bare tummy, picturing me naked and caged.

I turned to Rita, who was smiling triumphantly, holding out her black Uniball pen.

Wishing to cut his entertainment short, I grabbed the pen and signed away all my legal rights to Rita.

Glaring angrily at Rita, I handed her the form.

"Bless your heart!" she said, smiling sweetly.

The clerk signed his name and applied the stamp. "So where are you selling her?" he asked.

"She's not SELLING me, asshole," I said angrily.

"The Big D," Rita said cheerfully, continuing the conversation as if I didn't exist. "Great place. My husband works there."

"No kidding? Yeah, the Big D is awesome. Great selection. Hottest snatch in Dallas. I love to browse, if you know what I mean," letting his eyes run up my legs to my crotch to make his intentions clear. I glared at him angrily, but Rita, clearly amused, laughed merrily at his inuendo.

He handed Rita the form. "She going be there tonight?" he asked.

"Sure'nuff," she replied, tucking the form into her large bag. "I'm fixin' to check 'er in right after supper," Rita said, referring to me like a parcel she was going to drop off.

"You can leave her here. I can ship her," he offered.

"Fuck you," I said.

"How much?" Rita asked calmly, as if shipping me was a viable option.

The man looked me up and down, licking his fat lips. "I'm going over there anyway. I'll just charge you for the cage."

My alarm turned to panic. "Rita are you CRAZY?" I said. "Leave me with Mr. Piggy here? Have you lost your MIND?"

Rita, pretending to mul over the humiliating proposal thoughtfully, ignored the invisible girl's protests. "Naw! I'll drop her off myself. I gotta get 'er claim ticket, and I wanna see if they got any specials."

"She looks plenty special to me," the clerk said, again leering at my body. "Maybe I'll stop by and see her after work!" the clerk said.

"Feel free," Rita chuckled, calling out of him as she led me out of the store. "Or free feel, if you prefer."

John, staring at my ass, laughed at me as I flipped him the bird.

"What was THAT about?" I said as we entered the mall. "Why did you egg on Mr. Piggy in there?"

"I was just havin' fun, sweetie. And getting you ready for tonight. If you can't handle the UPS clerk, how ya' gonna handle the slavers at The Big D."

I fell silent. Rita had a point.

Rita tucked up my chin as I stared down at my sandaled feet. "Don't be sad. Now do you want stay all fuss-and-feathers, or do you wanna grab some grub? I got the perfect place in mind. My treat! I might even let you have some ice cream, after."

"That sounds awesome," I said, feeling every bit the kid sister. Rita and I laughed, happy to be together again.

Rita kept my Platinum card, and said she wanted to practice signin' my name, "for later". She laughed as I blushed.

As the afternoon wore on, I felt ever more aflutter every time Rita looked at her watch. Noting my 'skittishness', Rita began checking the time more frequently, giving me a big "cat-that-ate-the-canary' grin.

"What time is it, Anne?"

"Five minutes later than the last time you asked me."

"Yup! But I want the EXACT time."

"It's 4:03".

"Okay. We still have a LITTLE time," she said with a rakish grin.

Rita told me she was going to pick where we ate dinner, and insisted that it was 'her treat.' It sounded fine to me, but my nervousness grew as I found myself back on the 635, heading towards The Big D. My pulse quickened as she got off at the exit.

"Is it...time?" I said.

"Ha-ha! Relax, girlfriend! We gonna git us some Pig Faced BBQ! Hand over that cute little purse of yers."

A bit confused, I handed Rita my purse. I watched as she dropped my $1,750 Valentino clutch purse into the center console of her F-150 truck. She CLICKED the lock into place, and shook it to make sure the console was secured.

"Hey! What's up!"

"You won't need it. It's my treat, remember?"

"Is my purse safe in there?" I asked.

Rita pointed at one of The Big D security carts driving by. "The Big D has cameras everywhere, and they patrol this whole lot, 24/7. Ayn't no crime around here, Princess."

I was going to protest, but Rita already exited the car. I followed her, scurrying to catch up and continue my attempts to recover my purse.

"It feels weird without my purse," I said meekly.

Without even bothering to look back at me she held up the remote and pointing it over her shoulder. I helplessly listened to all the door bolts slide into place on her truck as I followed into Pig Faced BBQ.

Rita enjoyed a beef brisket sandwich, coleslaw, and a baked potato. My appetite was quite a bit more muted, and I picked at my salad. Rita did most of the talking, gabbing about our shopping trip and how good the BBQ was, and how long they used the smoker. Truth is, I was too nervous to say much, but the thought of what was going to happen to me also had me so excited!

"How come The Big D security vans patrol all the way over here?" I asked. "Nobody's going to park at the BBQ, then hike across 1,000 parking spaces to get all the way back to The Big D. Seems like a lot of wasted space to me."

"It ayn't WASTED!" Rita said. "And those security vans are looking for more than car thieves."

"I don't get it," I said.

"I'll give ya' a demonstration when we git out of here. Sure you don't want some of this here beef brisket? It's Texas good!"

"No, I'm fine."

Rita pointed at her sandwich. "To make brisket this good, you got to know how much fat to take off, and how much to leave. How hot is too hot. And you gotta know yer wood."

"Are you REALLY going to do this? Kennel me? Like a real slave girl?"

"You'll find out soon enough!" she said, giving me a playful wink as she stuffed her mouth with brisket.

I picked up my salad as she bragged about Rosco's promotions and bonuses, and Skeeter's straight A's. It wasn't that I wasn't interested, but I was distracted. Was she really going to do this? Did I have the guts to go through with it? It wasn't until she said "Time to git goin!" that I perked up.

"Already? I wanted some pecan pie."

"Uh-huh," she said, shaking her head. "Haven't touched yer' salad and now you want pie? Quit stalling. It's high time to git this show on the road!"

To my surprise, when we walked out of the restaurant she didn't walk to the car, or The Big D, but instead walked in the other direction.

"Aren't we going to drive over," I asked.

"No, it's a nice night. We'll walk."

"It's kind of chilly," I said, putting my arms around myself."

"Should have warn a jacket," she said, opening up her jacket to show me the fleece lining.

She turned and walked away. I followed her, as without a purse I didn't have much choice.

I followed her across the parking lot to what looked like a little yellow house with a thatched roof, about the size of a tool shed, but looking more like a children's playhouse. It wasn't until I walked around to the front of the "house" that I realized its true purpose.

Families In Need

Clothing & Shoes Donation Box

Thank You For Your Support!

Seeing the puzzled look on my face, Rita reached into her bag, and extracted a short leather riding crop with an angry swarm of nasty looking leather tongs on the end.

Waving the whip at me to indicate my clothes, Rita smiled. "Shuck off them duds, slave girl. Every stitch! I reckon it's 'bout time for ya' to make yer Christmas donation."