"Any Chance?" Auction Pt. 01

Maybe it was because I was standing in a livestock chute, but I actually kicked a leg up when a booming voice came over the speaker.

"How many head ya' got?" the Texas accent asked.

"Jist got the the one," Rita said. "I'm kennelin' her."

"K," the speaker said. "I'll be out in a tick."

Bored, I scrunched my toes against the wooden floor slats. Damn, it was cold out here.

Waiting. Waiting. Rita played on her phone.

"Could we get rid of these cuffs now?" I asked.

Rita, who had moved onto a phone game judging from her level of interaction, didn't bother to respond.

I heard metal grind against metal as a sliding door opened. A young man in his late teens, wearing boots, jeans, and a cowboy shirt with The Big D logo, jumped down onto the pavement. He had a toothpick in his mouth, and moved with the smooth, practiced motions of someone who had done this a million times. Despite his youthful appearance, he was clearly an experienced cowhand.

Striding over to the ramp the athletic teenager reached through the bars and grabbed me by the hair, pulling me towards him.

"Hey!" I said, shouting out from the pain.

"Why you usin' the chute?" he said, talking to Rita even as he checked my scalp for lice. "Got any critters up c'here?"

"I dunno. Don't think so. But she's a dirty little piggy. Look at 'er feet."

I blushed as the teen cowboy looked at my dirty brown feet.

I gave him a nervous laugh, trying to give myself a proper introduction to the handsome young man. "Rita's just kidding. I'm actually a very clean girl."

I flashed him my most winning smile. "Is your name really Hunk?" I said, reading his name tag.

Ignoring my attempts at friendship and mutual respect, Hunk stuck his hands between my legs.

"What 'bout crotch crickets? She got any jizz nits or bugs in 'er rug?"

"I don't think so. That's why we shaved her."

Rita was lying, of course, but I was in no position to set the record straight. I was too distracted by the teenage fingers cupping and teasing my pussy to do anything but groan in pleasure. Grateful for Hunk's commanding touch, I grunted and sighed as the handsome, muscular cowhand slipped a finger inside me for a quick feel, while using his thumb to rub my love button.

Hunk was pleasuring me, but all of the conversation was directed to my "owner.'

"Wow, she's wetter than the dip!" he drawled. "This is one hot little slut ya' got here, M'am."

"Thanks. That's why I'm kennelin' 'er. She'd be humpin' the doorknob all night if we let her run loose."

I wanted to respond, but all I could do was gasp and push down on Hunk's meaty hand.

"Ride 'em cowgirl," he said, laughing as I shamefully humped myself on his fingers. "You go, girl!"

I did go, much to my embarrassment and Rita's obvious disgust. I groaned in frustration as Hunk pulled his hand out of me, and wiped my juices off on my hair.

How could he stop? I was almost there!

The cowboy grabbed the end of my rope, and standing up on the green bars carefully knotted the lariat around my neck to a hook at the top of the chute.

"Thanks for bringin' 'er in roped."

"This ayn't my first rodeo" Rita drawled, and the cowpoke laughed.

Turning to Rita I squeezed my thighs together, whimpering and begging for relief. I stopped my little bare feet, too embarrassed to ask for him to finish me, but making my intentions clear.

Rita, her arms folded, gave me a derisive laugh and a slowly shook her head. I was desperate for relief, but also mortified, for Rita's contemptuous smile oozed disdain for my wanton sluttiness.

I squirmed in desperation, trying to rub myself to climax. Rita responded with the same side eye and look of unbridled hostility she had given me the night before, when I had been flaunting my drop dead sexy dress while I flirted with her son.

"Please!" I mouthed, begging for relief.

Rita laughed at my desperation. Signaling her disgust, she answered by clearing her throat, and spitting on the pavement.

"This rope strong enough to hold her?" he said, tugging on the rope to check his knot.

"Yeah, it's old, but she's slave skinny. Anyway, I signed the release forms if somethin' happens."

The term 'slave skinny' was familiar to me. When my rich girlfriends in Chicago called me 'slave skinny' it had been the highest compliment. But when Rita said it, it was merely a feature, or an attribute, like a dog's clipped ears.

The cowpoke didn't even ask if I had a SIN number, for my wet and wanton sluttiness had made that obvious. He pulled a personal assistant with a keypad off his belt and pulled back my lip to take a picture of my SIN number.

The machine gave a satisfied PING! as he scrolled the screen. "Yeah, you signed the release. I can't believe you haven't enslaved her yet. She sure is one hot piece of tail!"

I whimpered in embarrassment as the teenager's eyes roved freely over my naked body.

"I'm sure nuff thinkin' 'bout it" Rita said. She was using her sternest 'mom' voice, the voice she used when she wanted to make it clear she was done screwing around.

The cowboy reached through the bars and adjusted Skeeter's lariat knot. "Nice tie," he said approvingly. "I'm gonna move this knot behind yer' ear, darlin', so we'll git a clean break if somethin' goes wrong."

I didn't even have time to process this before the machine above me turned on, and the conveyer belt above my head began dragging the hook forward. The green door in front of me automatically opened, revealing...

10 foot of wooden chute, and another green door.

"So long, darlin'" the cowpoke said, slapping me on my bare ass.

With the rope dragging me forward I couldn't turn my head, but I called out to Rita.

'Aren't you coming with me?" I asked.

Rita laughed. "Nooooope!" she said.

"She's usin' the people entrance, darlin'" the cowpoke drawled. Then the green door behind me slid shut, cutting me off from the humans.

The door in front of me opened revealing... three foot of wooden chute, and a curve into blackness. The green door behind me slid closed.

I had wanted to visit The Big D for years, but I always pictured my arrival with my limo dropping me off front for a VIP tour. Now I was a naked, roped, dirty foot slave girl, being dragged up a wooden livestock chute. There were wooden slats on the floor, to keep the cattle from walking backwards, I guessed. The chute was lit, but curved, and filled with doors, so like a cow going to slaughter I couldn't see what was awaiting me. That was the point, I supposed.

I turned down the chute, but the lighting stopped and it was dark. Something smelled bad -- very bad. It was a bitter, chemical smell, but harsh: like formaldehyde mixed with rotten meat and skunk. I couldn't see, but the floor ahead of me seemed to be moving.

I tried to stop, but the rope around my neck dragged me forward. The rope tightened as I stepped off the wood, and my dirty feet dunked into water...

For a moment I thought I was going to hang. I kicked my feet on the water, struggling to find someplace to stand.

The hook slid down, and with an enormous SPLASH I plunged down into the putrid, dark, cold, slave dip.

I heard the SPLASH! before I realized I was falling. I felt freezing cold, eerie silence, pitch black, and a sensation of sinking. I tried to breathe in, and realized to my horror that I was underwater.

I was drowning. Panicked, I tried to use my hands to swim, or grab onto something, or raise myself in some way. But my wrists were locked firmly together behind my back. I yanked with all my girlish might, hoping that the two hours-a-day spent perfecting my already perfect body, would pay off. But my thousands of dollars of gym equipment and my personal trainers were defeated by the cheap, 99 cent zip cuffs holding my wrists cinched behind my back.

I could see nothing, nor could not breathe. I kicked my legs, and although I could feel my little feet fluttering through the ooze, the force of gravity from my plunge sent me down, down, down into the water.

I felt my feet touch the bottom of the mucky tank, filled with silt from the chemical wash I was drowning in. I pushed off with all my might. It wasn't enough. The tank was too deep, and I started to sink again.

I was saved, not by my own efforts, but by the rope around my neck. As the conveyer belt above my head ground on, the track above me arched up, and I was lifted up. My head exploded as I broke thru the surface of the dirty black water. I gagged, coughed, sputtered, and spit out the filthy, vinegary water, but with Skeeter's knot tightening around my neck, I struggled to breathe.

Splash! Down I went again. I thought for sure I was done for! In my last seconds I found myself wondering how much Big D's Livestock insurance would pay Rita for my loss. Doubtlessly a lot less than the millions she would inherit from me.

But then, the track arched upward, and the rope lifted me up, then down onto firm concrete.

I found myself laying on freezing cold cement. I coughed out, then vomited out, the filth they had dunked me in.

"Disgusting little piggy, isn't she?" a male voice said.

I heard Hunk's voice. "That ayn't nothing. You should feel how wet she was between the legs. I damn near thought she was gonna pussy eat my hand."

"Sure did swallow a lot", the man said. "Maybe she thought she was gonna drink her way out."

"Igran't slut", I heard Hunk say, his voice oozing disgust as I finished spitting onto the floor. "Probably eat her own shit if we let her."

"Up on your hooves, little piggy," the other man replied, lifting me as he loosened the noose around my neck. "This ayn't no soaking tub."

I was blinded, and it could have been my imagination, but I thought I heard Rita's hearty, snorting, belly laugh. I had a penchant for long soaks in the tub, and it took time do my hair and apply my makeup properly (which Rita referred to as 'Miss City Girl getting' all dolled up!"). As they had only one bathroom at their house, this annoyed Rita, who felt that I, THE GUEST, was being impolite. I hoped Rita wasn't seeing this, because doubtlessly she would have found my "bath time" very amusing.

Someone sprayed some sort of wash in my eyes, and the burning eased. "She got contacts!" Hunk said.

"Not anymore, she ayn't. Get rid of 'em. We need to get that shit out of her eyes."

I agreed. Losing my contacts was a small price to pay to be able to see.

The next indignity was a blast of freezing water from the hose. The men laughed as I jumped around. "Look at them dairies bounce!" Hunk guffawed.

My vision was blurred but I could distinctly hear Rita's twang. "You fellers takin' 'er down to cattle wash?" she asked.

"Naw!" Hunk said. We'll just give her a quick scrub down here. Then you can get her checked in, and crated."

"Scanned-and-canned" the other man said, laughing as he roughly spun me around.

"Give her a good scrub, fellers'," Rita said. "Our little Princess here says The Big D is a filthy shithole!"

"Does she now?" Hunk replied. "This is where I work, slut. And I'm mighty proud of it."

"Yup!" Rita said, condemning me with my own words. "She said it was a shit hole, jist last night. That's why I decided to take her through the livestock entrance."

"Don't you worry now," the other man said. "We'll give ya' real good scrub down. Especially between the legs!"

As my vision cleared I struggled to see what was happening. Hunk was putting on coveralls. Buckets. Scrub brushes. Rita laughing! Not good!

The worst part of it was Rita's laughter. It was a cruel reminder that I had brought this on myself. My mind flashed back to dinner the previous night.

"The Big D looks like a shithole to me," I said, speaking in an unusually frank way as I poured myself my fifth glass of $600 wine.

"We actually keep it quite clean," Rosco said flatly, clearly annoyed at my accusation.

"It looks like a pigsty to me!" I said, amused by his irritation. "It's got sand all over the auction block. What-sa-matter, Rosco? Tough guys don't know how to use BROOMS?"

Feeling quite giddy, I laughed so hard at my own joke I almost squirted wine out of my nose. Roscoe, who wasn't drinking, was not amused.

"That's for when the slave girls piss themselves," Skeeter drawled, ignoring his mother's irritation as he poured himself some more wine.

"My point exactly!" I said, shaking my wine glass at him for emphasis. "The whole place is crammed full of pleasure sluts, peeing like dogs, juicing themselves all day. All crated together, I bet they're totally INFESTED with head lice and pussy bugs! How do you keep a place like that clean?"

"It's easy," Rita said, glaring at me with a look that would kill Superman. "All 'ya need is a little dip, and a good, stiff bristled scrub brush, right between their legs."

"Sounds good to me!" I said raising my glass in toast. "Here's to stiff bristled scrub brushes!" Skeeter clanked my wine glass with his. Rita returned the toast with her water glass, while giving me a very strange smile.

I realized now why Rita smirked at me when we clanked glasses. With my gross disrespect of Rosco's workplace, and my concern over "pussy bugs", I was toasting myself straight into the dip tank.

Reality returned as Hunk roughly scrubbed my head with the coarse bristle brush, washing off the delouser with a gritty, green industrial cattle scrub.

"Oww! Not so hard!"

"What a little cry baby!" Hunk said.

"City girl," Rita explained. "From Chicago."

"Figures," the other man said, spitting onto the sudsy green wash running off my body as he helped Hunk roughly scrub me down with a stiff brush. "Probably a criminal. Or a protestor. Libs up there are TOTALLY out-a-control."

"Yup," Hunk said, sharing the conventional wisdom. "Nothing but shoplifters and looters."

"I could buy and sell this whole FUCKING place!" I sputtered, finally regaining my voice after my near drowning.

"Oh, she talks!" the man said, laughing. "That's a drawback."

"Whatcha gonna buy this place with darlin'?" Hunk asked. "Yer' pussy?"

I screamed as Hunk scrubbed me between my legs.

"Get rid of them-there pussy bugs!" Rita called out, laughing as she echoed my words from the night before. "Still think The Big D is a filthy shithole, Princess?" Rita mocked.

"Don't you worry, Ma'am," Hunk said, addressing Rita with a politeness reserved for customers, not slave girls. "We'll get this little sow slave slut clean!"

And so, they did. After a scrub that left me sore and pink all over, and another freezing rinse-cycle with the pressure hose, it was time for me to be dried.

As my eyes cleared, I could see Rita was watching from one of the plastic "customer" chairs behind the yellow line, safe from the lather and chemical stink from the filthy slave slut getting trucked washed for her viewing pleasure.

And pleasure it was, for the enormous grin on her face made it clear that she was enjoying watching her spa pampered sister getting scrubbed down like the dirtiest of slave sluts. For years I had insulted Rosco and Rita by referring to The Big D as a "pig style" and a "filthy dump slave market". Now karma was paying me back, in the form of a good dunking in the dip tank, and a stiff bristled scrub brush between my legs.

Hanks hands freely felt my body as he gave me a quick rub down with a coarse, industrial towel. Despite my near drowning, scrub brush skinning, and freezing hose down, I groaned with pleasure when his hand cupped my pussy.

"Easy girl!" Hunk said, laughing. "Damn near drown her in delouser, and she's still humpin' my hand."

I groaned in pleasure as Hunk once again pleasured me.

"Born slave slut," the other man said, squeezing my ass as he dried me.

"I wouldn't mind spendin' some time with this one," Hunk said, continuing to rub my pussy as he roughly toweled my hair.

From the sidelines, I could see Rita holding up her phone in front of her face as I writhed on Hunk's fingers. I hoped that she was playing some stupid game, and not recording me humping the young slave monger's hand.

"Let's keep it movin'" the other man sighed. "You know management. Now that they got that fancy-pants computer in, it's all about profit-per-pussy."

Taking that as his signal, Hunk withdrew his hand. Rita laughed out loud as I groaned in frustration.

"You need to piss or shit?" Hunk asked me.

The abruptness of the question startled me. I hadn't eaten much at the restaurant, but in my nervousness, I had drunk way too much water. "Um, yes, actually. Is there a lady's room nearby?"

Hank laughed out loud at my daintiness. Using my rope leash, Hunk led me over to a grate on the floor. The odor below me didn't smell good.

"Squat, and do your business," he said, pointing at the grate.

Feeling my face go flush, I squatted down, spreading my feet and legs wide to avoid as much splash as possible. I strained to go, but with Hunk watching me, I could not.

I looked to Rita, hoping she would save me. She had gotten out of her chair, and was standing about 10 feet in front of me, and she was smiling.

I looked up at Hank. "I can't do it. Not with you watching." I said.

Rita looked at me sympathetically. "It's okay, Anne. Just do it."

"I can't," I whined.

Hank's patience was at an end. I gasped as he took the slave goad off his belt, and pressed the button. A little blue arc flashed between the metal prongs.

"I'll make you pee!" he snapped.

"Can you help me get this zoom to work, Hunk?" Rita asked sweetly, holding up her phone. "I can never figure this thing out."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Hunk said unctuously, eagerly running over to help the customer in distress. As Rosco said, The Big D was all about customer service.

My big sister winked at me as Hunk mansplained the phone she used 24/7. Taking advantage of the of the relative privacy, I closed my eyes, and began to pee.

"See?" Hunk said. "You can zoom straight in-and-out like this, so you can see her the blush on that pretty face of hers..."

"Or full figure..." he continued. "So ya' can get the wide shot."

"Or just zoom in on her pussy so you can follow the stream. Damn! She's peein' like a racehorse."

"Wow, look at her go!" Rita said, looking at her screen.

"Look at it arch up. What a gusher!" Hunk observed.

"I'd say we done struck oil!" Rita agreed.

Rita bit her lip to keep from laughing as Hunk filmed every part of my performance. Walking back to me, Hunk picked up the end of my rope leash and jiggled it. "Hurry up, slave girl!" he said, tapping his boot impatiently. "This nice lady don't got all day to watch you pee!"

Rita, who was grinning like the cat-who-got-her-cream as she filmed her "potty hog" little sister having her leash jiggled as she was forced to pee-on-command like a cocker spaniel, didn't seem to mind a bit.

When at long last I finished, Hunk used his rope leash to lead me to a Big D golf cart, tying the other end of the rope to a hook on the back of the cart.

Rita smiled as I stood before her, squeezing my thighs together as I desperately tried to finish what Hunk had started.

"Jist, look at you, girl" Rita said. "Slave wet and hot-to-trot!"

Like the loving big sister she was, Rita took a brush out of her bag and quickly combed out my tangle hair.

"Hold still!" she scolded. "Stop juicin' yerself and let me brush out this bird's nest up here!"

"Why didn't you warn me?" I said accusingly.

Rita looked perplexed. "Warn ya' bout what? The slave dip?"

I nodded.

Rita adopted her big sister voice as she brushed out her little sister's hair. "Damn, girl, you really do got shit for brains. Dirty little slave sluts always get dipped. Don't want ya' bringin' no crotch crickets back to the house. Plus, you pretty much put up your paws and begged for it, at supper last night."

"I guess... I SORTA did," I admitted sheepishly.