Blue Eyes

"blue eyes" is a story i wrote some 20 years ago and posted on another erotica site. I've decided to re-write it, updating and expanding it. Enjoy.

*****

"Going once; going twice; sold! ... to the Lady in the blue suit," the auctioneer's voice sang out, punctuated by the sharp rap of the gavel and the beginning of a polite round of applause from the several hundred Women seated in the auditorium. i barely had time to take in the fact that my display on the auction block had ended when my leash was sharply pulled by the Woman who had identified Herself only as my "handler" and i was led back down the long ramp, off stage.

As She directed me off the stage and began leading me down a corridor, through my lowered eyes i could see the next male being led to the block. my handler stopped me, stroked my bare bottom with more gentleness than i had received since i had arrived at the auction house and told me that i had done very well and brought in a very good bid. Then She yanked my leash again and W/we continued walking down the hallway ... me still swinging my hips in the marked fashion She had directed me to do while being displayed for auction.

At the end of the hallway, as W/we approached a desk, my handler told me to kneel, which i did immediately, fearing both Her displeasure and the crop with which She displayed it.

"This is #3406," my handler told the Woman behind the desk, after checking the plastic tag that hung from my collar, "he's behaved well, so far."

"Thanks, Laura," the Woman replied. "We really haven't had much trouble. These aren't much more difficult than our domestic boys. they all respond well to a firm hand and a well-placed stroke of the whip. How much longer is the auction going to last? Any idea? Will they try to clean out the pen ... or take a break and resume tomorrow?"

"I don't know, honestly. The bidding is still very active. It could go on a while."

"Well let's get this one back to his holding cage."

With that, my leash was passed to the Woman behind the desk. After giving me a pat on my bowed head and admonishing me to be good, my handler turned and walked back down the corridor. The heels of Her boots (a sound i was growing increasingly accustomed to) receding as She walked away. A quick tug on my leash startled me back to attention.

"Let's go, boy, stand up. you know the drill ... eyes down, head bowed, two steps behind and to the right, and keep that pretty butt of yours swaying and those balls swinging."

"Yes, Ma'am," i replied quickly and meekly, following behind as i had been trained to do over the past several days.

She stopped in front of one of a series of doors that lined both sides of the hallway and pointed to the floor, which i had learned was a command to kneel. Then She placed Her palm on the high-tech identification pad. i took advantage of the delay in the door's opening to ask a question, in the manner i had learned in the POW camp ... before POWs like myself had become spoils of war, to be sold and assimilated into the matriarchal culture that had defeated us.

"Ma'am," i ventured with humblest and softest voice, "may i speak?"

"Yes, boy," the Guard said.

"Ma'am, i need to go to the bathroom."

Even with eyes lowered, i could tell She was turning to look at me; if i could have seen Her face, i would have noticed it was with more humor than malice.

"The bathroom," She said, Her voice stern, but with the hint of concern i'd noticed in many of the Women who dealt with us at the auction house. "boy, you have a lot to learn. you are owned now, boy ... your needs are unimportant. your new Owner will decide if, when, and how you will use the bathroom. Until She arrives to collect you, i advise you to hold it in. Understand, boy?"

"Yes, Ma'am," i replied immediately.

Shaking Her head as the door slid soundlessly open, She motioned me to rise, and led me into the small room. In the center of the room, She told me turn around to face the door, removed the leash from my collar, and ordered me to kneel.

"Your new Owner will collect you here. you are to remain kneeling and silent until She arrives ... and that could be a while." She dimmed the lights in my cell. "Many of the Ladies like the spectacle of the auction. She may also be purchasing another boy. Or, after seeing some of the other stock, She may decide that She doesn't want You after all ... in which case, you will have another date with the auction block. I suggest you use this time to reflect upon your new position and how you will serve the Woman who now owns you. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," came my immediate reply. i noticed it was becoming more and more automatic.

As She walked around in front of me, i could tell She was giving me a quick examination to ensure that i would make a good impression on my new Owner. Stopping abruptly, She nudged my knees further apart with Her booted right foot. "Keep those legs widely spread, even when kneeling. We don't want your Owner to think We've taught you nothing, boy."

"Yes, Ma'am ... sorry, Ma'am."

"Good." Then She petted my head. A note of concern returning to Her voice,

She said kindly, "If I am still on duty when your Owner arrives, i will remind Her that We do not allow boys to pee or shit after they are vended."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank You, Ma'am," again, quite automatic.

Then She left, the door closed, and i was plunged into near complete darkness, left to ponder my fate. i don't know how long i was there in the room. Beside the occasional muffled voice, the infrequent opening of doors along the hallway, and the periodic clicking of female boots outside my door, there was little to mark the passage of time. Then, suddenly, the clicking heels did not continue, but stopped directly outside of my door. As the door opened, light flooded into the room and i would not have been able to see much even if my eyes had not been obediently lowered to the floor. As it was, i heard and sensed — rather than saw — a Woman enter the room, step toward me, and stop directly in front of my kneeling form.

After a long moment, in which i assumed She considered Her new property, the Woman spoke. "Kiss my feet, boy." The words were clearly enunciated in a sure, low voice, and i immediately complied, planting my lips gently once on each of the severe leather pumps She wore ... Her right foot first, then Her left, as i had been taught in a training session.

"Very good. Now stand." Again i complied immediately, noticing as i rose that the Woman was rather tall, wore a blue business suit, and carried a stiff black leather riding crop, well used by the looks of it.

She began to walk slowly around me, not once but twice ... saying nothing. Startling me, i felt Her hand close suddenly and firmly on my right butt cheek. "What's this, boy?" She demanded, closing Her grip even more.

Not knowing exactly how to respond, i ventured a meek answer. "My bottom, Ma'am," using a polite term for the part of my anatomy She was holding, having learned in a training session that only Women were allowed to use more vulgar terms.

WHACK. Instantly i felt a sharp lash strike across my left buttock and struggled to maintain my balance, a line of fire indicating that my answer was inappropriate.

"No, boy," She hissed, "wrong on two counts. First, i am your Owner and you will address me as 'Mistress', never merely as 'Ma'am'. Other Womyn — all other Womyn — are 'Ma'am' to you; I — and only I — am 'Mistress.' Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress," i whimpered, longing to rub my lacerated bottom, but not daring to move.

"And second," She said, grabbing my butt cheek again, this time causing me to stifle a small yelp, "this is not yours ... it is mine. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," i whimpered again.

"Good," Mistress said, slowly circling around to stand in front of me. Although my eyes were lowered, i could tell that She was an attractive Woman, possessed of a commanding presence. Her hair was dark and cut in a short, severe style. She was roughly the same height as i, with a lithe build that i sensed (and would soon learn) was more powerful than it appeared. My attempts to gather more details were brought to a close as i watched Her right hand ... beautifully manicured, with faultless red nails ... reach out with steady nonchalance to grasp my cock and lift it, pinching the skin beneath its head.

"And what is this?" She asked.

Having learned my lesson, i was quick with a reply. "Your penis, Mistress."

"Good boy," She said shaking the bulb of the cock gently. "And Whom does this penis perform for?"

"For You, Mistress ... only for You."

"Very good, boy."

Dropping my flaccid penis, She moved Her hand lower, cupping my ball sac in

Her hand. Always fearful of my scrotum, i had to fight a powerful urge to resist Her touch, to clamp my legs shut. But i did so, swallowing hard, knowing full well that resistance would only be more painful.

"And what are these, boy?" came Her question.

"They are Your testicles, Mistress" i replied, mouth suddenly dry and hoarse.

"Yes they are, boy. And Whose sperm do they contain, boy?"

"Your sperm, Mistress."

"Very good, boy. you are learning ... and will learn much more." She dropped my ball sac and stroked it gently. "This cock and these balls are Mine. The cock will be hard when I give permission; then and only then. The balls will be granted release when I say so, and only when I say so. They no longer exist for your pleasure, pet. They exist solely for my use and amusement. If you can remember that, I may let you keep them for a while. If you cannot, you will not have them much longer. Do I make Myself absolutely clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," i croaked my response.

From a pocket inside Her suit jacket, She took out a delicate, black leather leash, which She held up for me to examine. "You will soon be fitted with a matching collar, boy. It will lock on, demonstrate your status, and bear My name. In the meantime, W/we will use the auction house collar. Lift your chin."

When i complied, being sure to keep my eyes lowered even while lifting my head, She unhooked the identification tag and clipped Her leash onto the d-ring on the collar. i humbly relowered my head without having to be told.

"I'm going to walk You out to my car, boy. At least I will permit you to walk as long as you behave. Any problems and I'll put you on your hands and knees." Her words were calm and confident. "One rule you need to learn immediately. When I snap my fingers twice, you will kneel if you are standing ... or stand if you are kneeling. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

With that and a sharp tug She led me out of the holding cell and down the corridor. Without further instructions, i walked as the chattelry's personnel had taught me ... heeling two steps back, on Mistress's right side, eyes fixed on Her feet, arms folded in the small of my back, and hips swinging as much as Her pace allowed. This must have pleased Her, because She looked back several times with what appeared to be a slight smile.

After checking me out at the desk, Mistress led me down several corridors, where the familiar sense of humiliation returned whenever W/we passed other Women. Although i couldn't see them, i sensed Their eyes examining me ... a naked, newly collared male, without property or rights, his sole purpose in Their matriarchal society one of obedience.

After taking several turns, Mistress suddenly stopped and turned to me.

"I almost forgot. I was told that you hadn't had a chance to pee before going onto the auction block. W/we have a long afternoon ahead of U/us ... do you need to go?"

"Yes, Mistress," i replied gratefully and added plaintively, "please?"

"W/we do things like that differently here, boy, and it's as good a time as any for you to learn how."

With that, Mistress turned and tugged on my leash, leading me down a short side corridor marked with a sign that read "Restroom." At the end, the room split into halves. On the right, in the larger half was a well-appointed, even luxurious area — apparently for Women only — that contained several settees, a bank of marble wash basins, and half a dozen or so stalls. To the left, where Mistress led me, the smaller half was completely bare, except for three rectangular slits in the tile floor, each approximately a foot wide and three feet long, arranged in a parallel line, no dividers between them. During the "re-education" after my capture, i had grown used to a loss of privacy, to going to the bathroom in the presence of other males and even Women, but this was much different ... much worse.

Mistress pointed to the middle one and said, "Straddle that hole, on your knees and elbows."

"Yes, Mistress," i replied, nearly choking on the humiliation, and assumed the position. Weight distributed between my knees and elbows on the cold, hard tile, my cock dangled beneath me, half erect from the indignity.

"This is how boys 'use the bathroom,' as you say, inside," Mistress said. "And you are not to begin until I say that you may." She waited for several beats. "Alright boy, you may piss."

Struggling against the embarrassment and the semi-erection, i forced myself to pee, fortunately producing finally a stream strong enough that it did not splatter much. As the sound of my urine splashing into the tile-lined slit subsided, Mistress walked up close behind me.

"Do you need to do number two," she asked, rather tauntingly.

"No, Mistress," i replied, truly relieved that i did not have to.

"Then are you finished, boy?" She asked and simultaneously stuck Her crop between my legs, lightly tapping my cock to shake off the final drops.

"Yes, Mistress," i answered, swallowing hard.

"Good. Get up." As She led me out of the restroom, my face was beet red from the position and the degradation.

Back in the main hallway, as W/we approached the elevators at the end of one hallway, Mistress stopped and snapped Her fingers twice. At the cracking sound, i dropped immediately to my knees, which earned me a quick pat on the head and a "Nicely done, pet." When the elevator door opened, She snapped Her fingers twice again, i rose with equal promptness, and W/we entered the elevator ... where She snapped Her fingers again for me to kneel. Riding down a couple of flights, i was primed to rise as the doors opened, but instead of U/us getting off, several Ladies got on. This caused Mistress to jerk back on my leash, with the admonition to "Make room, pet."

"Is this a new one, Sister?" asked one of the Women.

"Yes he is," Mistress answered, "one of the war spoils."

"Ahh," the Woman replied. "Well, he's a cutie."

"That's nice of you to say. He certainly cost enough ... but I fully intend to get my money's worth," Mistress laughed and stroked my head, while i blushed feverishly.

Above me, one of the other Ladies laughed as i reddened. "Well, he certainly has good color."

Mistress laughed, too. "I suspect by the end of the day he'll have some welts on his ass to match that lovely color in his cheeks."

When the doors opened a second time, Mistress snapped Her fingers twice and led me off the elevator, exchanging farewells with the Women, several of whom cautioned me teasingly to be good. W/we crossed the front lobby and, with me holding the door, exited. Mistress led me down the sidewalk toward the parking garage, stopping at a stand where two males kneeled as She approached. We had been taught during our brief orientation session that males in this society were generally kept naked, so it did not surprise me that these males (both of whom were older, but still addressed as "boy") wore only collars and cropped tee shirts emblazoned front and back with the word "valet." The shirts extended only to their rib cages, leaving their bellies, buttocks, and "privates" fully exposed. When Mistress handed a token to one and told the "boy" to bring around Her car, i noticed that his scrotal sac appeared entirely empty and that what appeared to be a large brand decorated his right butt cheek. i shuddered at both sights, fearing that the same or worse were in store for me.

As the boy ran off to fetch Her car, Mistress snapped Her fingers three times, causing me to arrest myself halfway into a kneel. "Three times means on your hands and knees, boy."

"Yes, Mistress," i replied, quickly assuming the position.

Mistress examined my doggy-style position. Then, using Her right foot to widen

my stance and with a note of scorn in Her voice asked, "Haven't you been trained to keep your legs spread at all times?"

"Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress," this said as i spread my legs even further than She had indicated.

With that, Mistress settled Herself gracefully onto my back, using me as a bench while She waited for the valet to bring Her car.

"Comfy?" She asked, bending over and looking down at me.

"Yes, Mistress, very," i replied ... and was immediately sorry ... with good reason. Simultaneously, Mistress grabbed a handful of my hair with Her right hand and with Her left slapped me hard between my spread legs, hitting my balls with great force. i nearly collapsed at the pain, fighting back reflexes to cover my balls, retch, gasp for breath, and scream all at the same time. Mistress settled my bucking, by settling Herself down harder on my back. Then, with great composure and cool, measured words said: "I will not tolerate impertinence. The proper answer to a question such as that one is 'my comfort is irrelevant, Mistress ... but i hope You are comfortable, Mistress' ... or something like that. Do you understand, boy?"

"Yes, Mistress," i replied, having regained some of my composure.

"That was just a smack, boy, a small warning. Show Me such attitude again and you'll get a full-blown ball whipping. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mistress."

If there was to be any more on this subject, it was cut short by the arrival of Mistress's car. The valet pulled it to the curb, exited, and walked over, kneeling before Mistress and handing Her the keys, with a simple, "Your car, Ma'am."

Taking the keys, but otherwise paying no attention to the valet, Mistress rose and snapped Her fingers thrice, which i appropriately interpreted as a sign to rise. Mistress led me to the driver's side, explaining that She was going to teach me how to escort a Woman to Her car.

"Kneel," She said, as She prepared to climb into the vehicle. "Good. Now, once I am seated, you will take the leash, walk around to the other side of the car, and get in."

"Yes, Mistress," i replied, reaching out my right hand for the leash.

WHACK. Mistress's hand struck mine, stinging it. "Bad boy. A leash is a sign of power and control. A slave like you should never, ever hold it in his hand. Rather, you will hold it as an eager puppy does ... in your mouth."

With that, She held out the leash for me to take in my mouth and motioned for me to rise and walk around to the other side of the car, which i did quickly. Getting into the car on the other side, i sank down into the soft, warm leather of the seat ... immediately spreading my legs as wide as i could to show Mistress that i had learned my lesson.

"Very good, boy; you are learning quickly. That makes it easier to see you and to reach you, should i want to play with my toys."

Mistress fastened Her seat belt before continuing. "And you are to remember, pet, that sitting like this is generally reserved for Superiors and is a privilege for a slave. There is an old saying that boys are normally limited to three positions ... on their feet for work in kitchen, on their knees for service in the parlor, and on their backs — or bellies — for pleasure in the bedroom. Sitting, even in a car, is a rare treat. Enjoy it."

"Yes, Mistress ... thank You, Mistress," was my prompt reply.

As She started the car and pulled it out of the parking lot, Mistress placed Her right hand on my left thigh and petted it lightly. "I want you to get to know your new home, boy. So you may lift your head and look out of the car. Just be sure that you lower it should you turn toward me." After that W/we drove in silence for some minutes, Mistress stroking my thigh absentmindedly and me taking in the scenery around me. It was a lovely landscape, with neat houses, naked male slaves working at different tasks in the yards, the occasional leashed slave out on a walk with his Mistress. Such billboards as there were all featured Women. The drivers of the other cars on the street were all Women.