Auction Ch. 12

She awoke as she did every day, alone in the solitude of her bed, swaddled in Egyptian cotton and a duvet of silk and down.

Ethan, of course, was nowhere to be found.

He never spent the night.

Warm light streamed in through the heavy linen draperies; her room, a large affair punctuated only by a bed, was situated on the third floor of the eastern side of the house.

Jen stretched and yawned, trying to will her body into getting out of bed. She glanced over at the clock and smiled dreamily; it was only nine thirty. Technically she didn't have to be anywhere until eleven.

Technically.

For some reason, however, she found herself lying there, ready to get out of bed. Setting her feet on the floor, Jen stood and stretched again, leaning back with her arms arched above her head. Her long blonde curls brushed against the small of her back; after all this time, her hair had grown quite long. She was enjoying its length, however, and had no plans to ask for a haircut anytime soon.

Next she began to stretch out her whole body, the better to prepare her for the day. She wasn't sure what the afternoon would bring, but a painful experience early only with a pulled muscle in her calf had taught her to be ready for anything.

At length, she stood, and padded into the bathroom. Following her toilet, she took a moment to admire herself in the large framed mirror. She had to admit that seven months of servitude had done good things for her physique. Though she'd never been slender like Kami, the combination of regular exercise, rest, and a demanding sexual regimen had done wonders. Her legs were leaner and more toned, and her stomach was flatter; her breasts remained full and heavy, but were much more pert. Her skin positively glowed -- not least from tanning in the afternoons -- and best of all, as she turned around, she saw that her ass was firm and tight.

A small detail, to be sure, but for a girl who'd always been plagued with body issues, to see her body taking on a more toned, lean look thrilled her. She might not ever achieve the willowy frame of the women she saw on television, but her figure had trimmed down in some key areas, which only served to emphasize the full swell of her heavy breasts and rolling arc of her hips.

Still, she frowned as she looked at herself, the promised lily tattoo had yet to appear in the small of her lower back. Jen knew Ethan to be a man of his word, but found herself eager to gain the status that marking conveyed; its inscription on her body, she believed, would elevate to a much more equal position with Kami.

The better to replace her.

But that wasn't going to happen, she thought, as she padded down the hall to the exercise room. Located on the second floor, it was a large, well-lit expanse replete with the other instruments of Ethan's capricious whims. Here there were no whips or plugs or clamps -- here there was only the dread domain of sustain aerobic exercise. Jen had always been a bookworm, more given to staying in and baking for friends while they watched Battlestar Galatica reruns than she was inclined to exercise. Not least because her breasts were so full, she tended to limit her exertions to brisk walks and whatever adventures she could get into in the bedroom.

Ethan had changed all that, of course.

As with the rest of her life, his will had made itself known in short order, and so each day, barring some unforeseen event, she found herself in the gym, working her way through a robust regimen he'd aid out for her.

Kami would often join her, and Jen could compete with the lithe redhead even as she admired her lean body in motion, but Ethan never appeared. She didn't know when he worked out, but she was sure he had to, as his physique was never less than stunning.

She took the time to stretch again briefly, working out the last kinks; her buttocks were still sore from the night before, but no amount of stretching could help that. Only time could remove the welts.

She selected a machine and began her routine. The elliptical was his instrument of choice; it allowed her to move quickly and aerobically without too much lateral movement that would cause discomfort in her breasts. She found his concern in this regard oddly touching; he'd said that the only discomfort she would suffer would be by his hand as punishment for her indiscretions.

Nearly an hour and a half later, Ethan swept into the room, a sheaf of papers in one hand, and a leash in the other. As she moved, Jen looked on in amazement at the sight of Kami mincing along behind her master. The redhead was blindfolded and gagged, and had her hands bound in front of her, pulled forward by the leash. Her legs were encased in black latex that ran from high mid-thigh down to a pair of five-inch stilettos, and Jen could see a clipped chain of finely fashioned silver running up from between her legs to a ring clip affixed to the platinum collar at her neck.

Kami's hair was disheveled and her body shone with sweat.

She looked exhausted, spent from whatever he'd done to her.

Most disturbing -- and interesting -- of all was the hash of welts across her backside, a sure sign that Ethan had used a willow switch on her bottom.

What had the redhead done?

What hadn't she done?

Jen smiled to herself, her pussy throbbing suddenly with possible answers. She wanted so very much to know, if only so that she might receive a similar admonishment at Ethan's hands.

As if he could sense her thoughts, Master whipped his head abruptly around to look at her, to take in the sight of his voluptuous slutslave churning away on the machine.

He stopped and looked at her, a hungry intensity in his gaze that suddenly made Jen glad that her former mistress was bound by that leash.

She kept moving, fighting the fatigue as the elliptical machine approached the end of its cycle. Her eyes down, Jen hoped he would move on and take his storm cloud with him.

"Slut," his voice was flat and hard. She shivered in fear at the sound of it. He was clearly angry, but she couldn't see why.

"Yes, Master," she panted as she ran forward over and over.

"Do another hour."

"Yes, Master," she nodded.

Jen's legs ached and her lungs burned; he'd caught her near the end of a high-aerobic workout, one designed to really burn calories. The whisper of the elliptical machine was the only noise in the room; she preferred to be alone with her thoughts these days, and hadn't touched her IPod in months, even though he had given her one.

A long moment passed, punctuated only by the sound of the machine.

Finally he spoke.

"When you're finished here, shower and then come to the study."

She nodded, eyes down, legs churning.

With that, he walked behind her, dragging the leash, forcing Kami to stumble forward on her heels as they moved. And then he was gone, the clicking of Kami's heels fading quickly as they left.

An hour later, she was near collapse. Her body had survived the additional hour through sheer willpower; her legs burned and her lungs rasped for air. Sweat covered her supple frame, and her once luxurious curls were matted and tangled.

Finally, the machine beeped as it began its cool-down cycle. Jen nearly sobbed with relief. The desire to please Ethan having been met, she now craved rest. Still, as much as she wanted to collapse, she knew that he would expect her shortly. The beep was loud enough that he'd be able to hear it in most of the other rooms in the house.

She had an inkling of which room he might have gone to; the second floor had a large playroom for just such occasions as this.

Weakly, slowly, she headed off in that direction. Her legs burned with each step, and the fatigue gripped her so that she felt like she was moving underwater. The air in the house was cool on her skin, but not entirely unwelcome given her waves of heat radiating from her spent form.

The stairs were murder, and her thighs roared out their protest as she ascended to the second floor.

Finally, she tottered into the playroom, physically shattered in a way usually generated only by a long night's entertainment.

The room was bight with the midday sun pouring in from large windows. In many ways the room resembled a traditional martial arts dojo: plain white walls, hardwood flooring, and mats on the floor. There, however, the similarities stopped. One wall held a large wooden H-frame with several stout poles intersecting one another, the better to bind a willing (or unwilling) slave; and several hooks hung from the ceiling, their purpose obvious to all but the most obvious observer. Lastly, a table set by the door held an array of tools and toys, a display that was never disguised no matter who the guest might be.

She could see Ethan as she entered. He was nude, standing with his back to her. Jen found herself admiring his form until his words broke her reverie.

"Did you do as I asked?" He didn't even look at her at first.

"Of course, Master," she responded, hurt that he even thought she might do otherwise. Once, maybe, she might have been lazy or impertinent, but now, now she was unable to deny him most anything.

Her lungs still burned from the recent exercise, and he turned slightly, and gestured for her to kneel.

Gratefully she came to his side and sank down beside him. The smell of her sex mingled with sweat filled her nostrils as her legs parted.

If he noticed, he said nothing, only turn and stared at her with his fierce brown eyes. She was reminded suddenly of a bird of prey, so intently did he watch her.

It was some time before he released her, and only then when the sheer intensity of his scrutiny made her tremble. He knew then, she realized, as she forced herself to endure his gaze and yet not look him directly in the eyes -- that was forbidden under most circumstances -- that he was pleased with her.

She could see him trying to suppress a smirk. Saw him try and fail, and felt herself grin slightly, suddenly giddy that she pleased him.

Finally, though, he nodded slightly, and turned away. Release from his hold, she looked down.

And gasped with delight.

The very sight before her made her weak with desire.

And dizzy with fear.

Kami lay prostrate before, trussed and bound like a plaything, every part of her supple body presented for display and enjoyment.

After months of seeing the redhead only in positions of indulgence and power, to see her presented so was delightfully unexpected.

It was so wicked Jen felt a new heat surge into her despite the terrible fatigue that gripped her.

The redhead lay on her back, spread across a short half-bench made of leather and dark wood. Her feet were up in the air, spread wide to give Ethan all the access he could want. Thick bands of leather bound them to two stout steel poles that arched out and away from one another to form a crude 'V'.

Ethan stood between her legs, the hard length of his shaft buried in the steamy silk of her pussy. He had one hand on her vulva, as if to steady himself, and was slowly fucking her, clearly taking his time to savor the long bliss of withdrawal and renewal.

Jen watched the flex of his buttocks with a very hungry gaze.

Kami's arms were also bound, stretched out wide to either side, her small wrists tightly locked in bands of steel and leather as well.

Best of all, there were thin cords of stout nylon running from her ankles to each of her nipples, affixed to clover-leafed clips that held turgid punished buds in their steely grip. The cords were taut with the tension of her bonds, and even the slightest movement on Kami's part produced wonderful torment.

Kami moaned out her pleasurepain from beneath a bright red ballgag, and her green eyes were bright with pain, even as they glazed over with her delirium every time Ethan slid his thick cock into her.

Jen could see the redhead's pale thighs tremble with the strain of the forced pose ... the hashes of welts across her inner thighs, ample evidence of Ethan's displeasure.

Or perhaps they were marks of his pleasure?

She still wasn't sure.

Even after all this time.

Jen found her gaze drawn to the thin lines of raised flesh, each one a brilliant testament of Ethan's will, the redhead's pale skin was puffed and agitated from what could only have been Master Ethan's rattan cane. She knew it well, had felt the caress of it on more than one occasion, as its dark length flexed along her curves in a searing geometry of punishment and delight.

She knew some masters preferred nylon, but Ethan was more traditional in his appetites; his philosophy, he'd told her on one particularly terrifying Thursday evening, was that if the cane broke, then so be it.

He hadn't broken the cane on her that night.

But by the end she'd wished he had.

She'd begged him by the end.

Oh how she'd begged, keening out her desperation as he denied her everything.

So experience told her how very much those welts burned; the more so for their placement all along Kami's most delicate flesh. She knew well how the heat would be rising in each one, ranging from the searing sting of the newly adorned

Kami must have done something of some magnitude to warrant such attention.

Ethan stirred beside her, snapping her out of her reverie. His touch was light on her cheek as he turned to her. She could see his cock just out of reach, covered in the glistening joy of Kami's pleasure. Even thusly anointed in the scent of her rival, she wanted him, wanted to run her tongue over the length of him. To ask for it, to give in to her desire and move toward him without invitation would be the height of impertinence.

It wasn't hers.

She belonged to it.

Still, it was so close it made her mouth dry.

Jen could feel the fatigue fading as her hunger began to build, all the stronger from the heady smell of her own wet sex, exposed beneath her by the open kneeling stance he'd trained her to assume.

Ethan cupped her chin, and gently guided her to her feet. She stood, her hands clasped behind her back, awaiting his pleasure.

He let her wait, and kept at his measured thrusts, seemingly oblivious to the hearty moans emanating from the captive redhead beneath him. Jen marveled at how calm he looked; as if he hadn't a care in the world; as if his shaft wasn't gripped by a pussy she knew was even more talented than her own.

But there he was, serene, almost distant.

He smiled at her.

"You're wondering how I am this calm." Not a question; a statement.

It was uncanny how he knew how to read her like this.

Jen nodded, smiling a little. Ethan winked at her and suddenly surged forward, impaling the full length of himself into the prostrate slutslave before him. Kami wailed through her gag as the nipple clips suddenly went limp and then snapped back as he withdrew.

Ethan stepped away and turned to Jen. "It's simple, really."

And without any further explanation, he reached out and took her heavy breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her taut nipples. Jen didn't have time to ponder his non-explanation; the sensation was too strong. She sagged into his embrace, thrilling to the feel of his hard shaft sliding in between her own wet labia as he pulled her to him.

Without further pretext he pushed her down onto the floor and thrust into her. She screamed out in delight as he began to fuck her in earnest. Ethan had none of the pretext or restraint she'd just seen with Kami. This was raw, animalistic in its intensity. He was already aroused, and she devoted those parts of her mind that weren't succumbing to the fugue to watching his resolve erode in the face of their mutual pleasure.

He didn't kiss her and he didn't speak, save once to growl out how much he liked the way she smelled.

Her mind thrilled to that, happy to be his instrument of pleasure.

Encouraged, she called out his name and pushed back against him.

Of course, he ignored her.

He just fucked her well and true.

Ethan's shaft filled her, and the sweat of his body mingled with her own. She clenched his shaft with her inner muscles, grasping him rhythmically each time he withdrew, clutching at his cockhead just because she could.

He growled with pleasure as he realized what she was doing and attacked her with renewed fury, pulling her arms around him as he began to really pound into her.

She was grateful for the thick matting beneath them; the force of his thrusts would have been painful had she been against the hard wood.

His body crushed against hers with such force, her breasts pressed painfully between them as he clove to her in his ferocity.

Distantly, some part of her could hear a series of whimpers and moans coming from the bound redhead; with a start she realized that every time Ethan thrust into her, his frame pushed against the half-bench. And, with her nipples so deftly poised to broadcast any vibrations, their lovemaking must have been hell for Kami, a rhythmic series of painful shocks that brought no concurrent pleasure.

To say nothing of the fact that it was Ethan's roughshod entrée into her rival's sopping pussy that was the cause of such torment.

Jen smiled to herself and hung on, drinking in the thought of Kami's mental and physical discomfort, letting the sound of the gurgling wails of aggravation swirl in her mind, an acoustic accoutrement to the waves of pleasure coursing through her with each thrust.

Her pussy was so wet, its silken confines gripping him with every heave of his body. He was so deep inside her she hoped they might fuse together into one being. Jen's mind reeled with that possibility, even as she knew it to be mere fiction brought on by her own sexual frenzy.

The fugue was very strong now; the little death was approaching.

Jen wrapped her legs around him, clutching at his hard buttocks and lower back with her calves and thighs, savoring the simplicity of this intercourse. Though the experience of being his sub thrilled her, there were times she simply wanted to be fucked and fucked well, without all the ceremony of domination and submission.

This exchange was a welcome change, nothing more than a simple union between two lovers. She'd needed this; she hadn't been fucked like this in a long, long time.

It was all so normal that she found the whole experience surreal.

Suddenly, as if sensing her own growing joy, his began to reach a new pitch, pulsing into her forcefully at the apex of each thrust, and then withdrawing out and up, the better to drag the entirety of his swollen shaft across her throbbing clitoris.

Jen found herself struggling to sustain her own crumbling resolve, thrashing and keening in her determination to deny her own release until he came.

But of course she couldn't, and soon collapsed into her own orgasm, succumbing to her release with a long, low moan as spots formed in front of her eyes and her whole body spasmed in his embrace.

He held her fast, pushing her onward and further into delight as he continued to fuck her. His pace slowed a bit, his intent to prolong her pleasure without overloading her capacity to absorb it clear in the way he clung to her.

Some part of her mind distantly wondered if she was allowed to cum without permission, but it was too late; she was already sobbing out her release, her manicured nails clawing at the hard muscles of his back. The feel of his broad frame against her, the heady scent of him, both heightened her senses even further, and she felt herself wracked by a series of trembling aftershocks.

He moved in time with her, riding out her secondary orgasms and enhancing them with well-placed thrusts.

Finally, when she'd grown still beneath him, he released her and withdrew. He stood, and looked down at her; his satisfaction was obvious, so too was his throbbing need for his own release.