I'm a Slave Now? Pt. 09

This can't be real.

This entire night has to be some sort of dream that I'm going to wake up from.

A dream that I never share with anyone, ever. Everything is just too extreme. Too far-fetched. Too crazy.

For I was just fucked on stage in front of hundreds of people...by a machine. Fucked while my body is tied up, tits tied and the people cheered.

Why, you might ask did this happen? Because I'm a slave. A sex slave. Me, boring old me that's never done anything interesting is now a sex-slave that was just sold.

Earlier this evening the word "slave" was like a curse or a taboo. But now I basically say it with pride. I'm a sex slave. I'm submissive. A submissive sex-slave. Yes, me, the executive level manager at one of the biggest oil and gas companies in the world is a sex-slave. The one that orders people about every day. I'm now a slave.

"Stand up," I'm ordered by the asshole guard as I am still bent over the "fucking machine." I call him an asshole because the entire time I was brought on slave, he's laughed at my discomfort and ordered me about with glee, not to mention took every chance he could to hurt me. In short, he is loving what I am going through. As much as I hate to admit it, I sort of want to be treated like that at the moment. To make this even more real.

Slowly, as I feel very sore, I stand as all the straps have been removed that were pinning me to the machine. All over I feel sore and my body throbs, especially my womanhood. It throbs lightly, pulsing with a tingle that is slowly driving me crazy because I know what it is. It's wanted to be fucked again. It's been murdered all night long and now craves the feeling.

With the two guard's help, I stand and climb out of the machine's rig. Instead of looking like the cold and scary machine when it was brought out, the machine looks like a warm and inviting sex toy, one that I wouldn't mind purchasing myself. Once I am free, two other men come up and wheel the machine away to which I watch it go with a bit of longing.

The way I feel at the moment, is like I'm high. Like I took some sort of mix of weed and X that put me in this strange state, for I feel like I'm floating as well as feeling every new sexual sensation that they've forced on me. For yes, they did force it on me. I came here tonight not to do any of this, but to get my money and go, but they did all this to me. They did everything that I signed up for.

"$115,000. Damn. People aren't going to believe this really happen," one of the guards says to the other as they position themselves to my sides. Each one holds an arm as if they believe I'm about to run off or something. I know in part they do this to make sure everyone can see me, for my breasts are tied with clamps on my nipples, and my hands are behind my back with cuffs, thus my entire body is on full view.

The two start to talk as if I'm not even here, saying how they have never seen anything like what they saw tonight. That they didn't even know the machine existed, nor have they ever seen the crowd so worked up. Then they start to talk about what a slut I am. How I get off on humiliation and pain. That they have never seen anyone get so hot off of it before. The way they talk about me, you would think that I'm a fetish porn actor instead of a normal, everyday woman.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes the auction," the announcer says to which there are disappointed mummers. I see the crowd begin to talk to each other as if discussing what they saw, much like the guards.

"As is tradition, if you stick around, in a few short minutes the slaves will be officially presented to their owners and will receive their first orders," the announcer proclaims over the PA system. Right after this, the packed audience starts talking even more excited.

I know that this night is coming to an end, as this has to be the last event. At any other event, this would be when most people take off to "beat the traffic." That they best parts have happened and there's no real reason to stick around.

Only no one leaves. Or if some do, it's only a handful and I sure can't see them. I would say this confuses me, as from what I remember reading from the website, the presenting of a slave isn't really anything special. Just that the slave is presented to the owner, in which they get on their knees with hands behind their head as well as spread legs and say how they are owned now. Then the owner will give an official order for the slave to do, which would normally be something not very exciting such as to sit on their hands, or bark like a dog.

I have a strong feeling the people are staying because of me. They want to see how I'm presented to my new owners, Mr. and Mrs. Valentine, whomever they might be. For what I've learned tonight is that they aren't going to take it easy on me. No one here is ever going to take things easy on me.

"And here comes the purchased properties!" The announcer proclaims, and the crowd starts to clap. Turning slightly, I see the other slaves being led out from behind the curtain, each with a guard guiding them. They are no longer handcuffed nor have gags. Instead they have their hands behind their heads as they walk with a couple of them unable to hide their smiles. Only one of them still has on cuffs, which makes me wonder if the owners get to say how they want them presented.

The women are led towards the stairs at the end of the catwalk-thing that is right next to me. Since no one is telling me anything, I can only believe that I'm to fall in line once they all pass. Just like I guess I won't get my cuffs, gag or clamps removed.

The first woman walks pass me, and she smiles at me. I'm taken back by this because it's not a fake smile at all. It's a warm, knowing smile. A smile that seems to say how we are now family. It leads me to believe that she knows exactly what I am going through, all the emotions I've felt tonight. More than anything, this makes me feel special. It makes me feel, I dunno, like I belong to a family now as she understands what I've been through.

Then something rather odd happens. A guard comes from behind the curtain by himself. He proceeds to walk right up to the asshole guard that is holding me. The guard says something soft to the guy, right in his ear, making it seem like he doesn't want anyone to hear it. Right after, my guard nods as if he understands. I wonder what this could be, as it wasn't a quick 'take her cuffs off,' comment but a long set of instructions. But since my guard doesn't do anything and the other guard just walks off, I figure maybe it is not about me.

Girl after girl passes, I mean, slave after slave passes until the end of the line is at hand. With a sigh, I lift my foot to start to walk so I can get in line, only the asshole guard grabs me by my collar to yank me back. When he does this, I am choked hard and my air is cut off. With force he then yanks on the collar again until my face is just a few inches away from his. Unable to breath, I see the intensity in his eyes as he glares at me.

"Did I say you could move you stupid bitch? Huh? Anyway, keep your freak sized tits where they are. Your owners want something special," he tells me, then releases me in a push in a very "I'm done with you motion."

When he does this, I feel yet again that strange conflicted emotion within me. For one part of me gets very upset and wants to kick the asshole right in his cock, but another part of me becomes flushed with arousal. That even after being fucked and punished all night long, I still feel a tingle between my legs, much like a teenager after her first experience of playing 'down there.' The feeling of being owned, of being choked, of being treated like I'm sub-human, even being referred to as nothing more than my tits makes me...aroused.

All of the slaves are now on the main floor, to which they are lead in different directions by their guards. I happen to spot one, who kneels in front of an older fat man. She proceeds to bow to him while keeping her hands behind her head. A small crowd has formed around them, looking eager to see what's to happen.

I'm then a bit shocked when the older fat guy unbuttons his pants and produces his manhood. Just whips it out, not caring who might be around or who sees. A moment later, the slave lifts up and begins to pleasure him orally having no issue about doing it with so many people watching. I watch her blow the older man, to which she seems to enjoy it. Watching her eagerly do it, I wonder if there are any special techniques for oral. I'm sure there are, it's just I never thought of it before. Never thought of a lot of stuff before tonight.

"Alright, it's ready. Make sure she shakes those tits," a new guard that comes from the crowd calls to my guards after about 5 minutes of me watching the slave suck the older man's cock. Each minute that went by made me more worried about what is about to happen. What are they setting up? Why? What's about to happen? Why does it have to be special for me? Can't I just perform oral for my new master like that slave is, instead of doing whatever they have planned?

"You heard him bitch, shake those freak titties of yours," the asshole guard tells me and I whimper. Each boob is very sore and tender as they have been tied up for a long time now, not to mention slapped, groped, and milked. This has served to make my already large breasts even larger as they are very swollen. To shake them will bring a lot of discomfort, not to mention shame.

Yet, after a hard slap on my ass, I start to move my shoulders to the right and then left, causing my boobs to move about and shake. I feel them bounce against each other as well as move everywhere as I feel the small sharp pain they bring from having to do this. Reduced to a sex object, I shake my tits for everyone to watch.

I'm now walking as I'm pushed from behind. I walk to the stairs and then go down, making sure to keep shaking my breasts. As I knew would happen, most everyone around is staring at me with lustful smiles, eager to see what is about to happen. In what is a surprise to me, I find the most humiliating thing to see is when a new person sees me, to which they look me in the eyes, then their eyes drop to look at my breasts as I bounce them about.

As I walk, the guard bark orders at me from behind, saying things like, "go right" or "keep going straight." The two of them stay behind me so they can slap my ass whenever they want, which is quite often. I have a feeling they are doing it because they know they won't have much time with me any longer.

They make me walk through the crowd, which makes it feel like the world is looking at me. That everyone everywhere can see me like this, naked and abused, fucked and ashamed, my tits tied and my mouth gagged. And again, it is both horrible and the most exciting thing I've ever felt. What is the icing on the cake is that I'm still wearing the fucking cow bell, which clangs and clangs as I shake my boobs.

"Seems that your new owners took a look at everything you signed up for," the asshole guard tells me from behind. "They saw it was your first time here, and that you did a lot of super-kinky shit. And well, they said they wanted to make the introduction something you could never forget," he goes on to say. At this, I get butterflies in my stomach as I both like the sound of this, and get very concerned.

We keep walking as the crowd parts as I approach. I'm very surprised that no one reaches out to grab or grope me. Everyone is within reach and they know I won't be able to stop them if they did touch me. And I doubt the guards would do anything about it either. It makes me a bit proud as these people would be condemned for being perverted or ill moral in the outside world, yet they have the decency not to touch me when they know they are not supposed to. Something about that makes me feel rather safe here, even if I am naked and helpless.

"There we are. See what they set up just for you?" The guard laughs as we start to approach...something. It's a small fenced in area with the fence being the wood type you would see at a barn. And in the middle of the fenced in section is a strange rig in the middle. It's made of steel pipe and looks very sturdy, even if I have no clue what it is.

"Your masters got some money, that's for sure," the guard exclaims. The way he says this is rather enigmatic as I'm not sure if that is a good thing or bad thing. I do hear excitement in his voice, which can never be good.

"They paid for this to be brought from The Farm section. Seems they wanted to share you with, well, everyone before they took you home," the guard explains as I pause to look at whatever this is. As I look the thing over, the tingling between my legs gets stronger as I have a feeling this will be intense. That it will be new and intense.

"What...what do you mean, share?" I then ask forgetting about the gag in my mouth to which a garbled mess comes out. I thought I would be owned by just my masters. That they would be the ones to do, well, whatever they want to do. But being "shared" doesn't sound good. Especially in a setting where there are hundreds of people around.

"What is your name, slave?" The asshole guard says very loudly so that everyone around can hear. His words seem to tell others that something is about to happen as an even larger crowd begins to circle us and grow very quiet as they wait for me to talk.

"My name is Bitchy McCowTitties," I say just as loud as he does, but it can't really be heard due to the gag. Even so, my face turns red just at saying this. I hear people laugh and giggle in excitement as they wait for more to happen with them loving me humiliating myself. I try to stare forward, but I see all the faces looking at me. All the excited faces, ready for a show. All the faces that are not slaves.

Now hands behind me undo the straps of my gag. It is pulled out of my mouth, allowing me to finally close my lips which is oddly satisfying. Only drool and spit seem to come out, not that anyone notices or cares. But as I open and close my mouth a few times, it alerts me that my mouth is about to be used even more.

"Tell them how you are a hucow with fat tits who needs to be milked, fucked and punished," the guard says next and it's clear there is anger in his voice. I sway on the spot at this as it is such an intense thing to hear.

It occurs to me now that there really is no going back now, is there? That I have long since crossed the line into this world. That this is who I am now, and the things I'm expected to say and do. That I can't even debate that I'm not a member of this world.

"I'm....I'm a fat h-hucow..." I begin, feeling my face burn red again. My words sound so insecure as I say this, alerting everyone how humiliated I am. "W-With super huge titties that need to be m-m-milked," I keep going, that all too familiar warmth of humiliation spreading over my body.

"I need to be milked like a cow, fucked like a whore and punished like a stupid lil bitch," I finish, my breathing fast and swallow now. To this, people begin to clap. Some even look impressed.

"Alright then cow, step inside your stable and bend over so everyone can get started," the guard says rather cruelly. When he says this, it clicks to me what the rig is, or rather, I see what it is....the purpose. It's much like what they put me in at the very beginning of this night. It's a rig...a rig so that you can be milked.

"MOVE," I'm told and hands push me. Then a hand takes a hand full of my hair and begins to walk me around to the gate of the fenced in area as if I'm moving too slow. I'm brought inside the area and taken to the back of the rig.

I stay silent except for grunts and whimpers of pain as I know nothing I say will stop this. That words from me mean nothing. I'm a slave now.

"Bend over like the whore you are," the asshole guard grunts and even pushes on my back as if trying to speed this along. Trying to have just a bit of dignity, I straighten up to show I'll do it on my own. But then I slowly begin to bend over. Unlike the fucking machine, there is no plank or stool for my upper body to lay on. Instead there's a metal bar right at my hips, and another where my shoulders will rest once I bend over completely. So I bend over completely until I'm resting on the two cold metal bars, feeling how my breasts dangle.

"Oh come on," I protest as I feel the guard lower a bar from overhead, which presses against my shoulders. I hear more noise at this, like a lot of tinkling. Testing it, I try to stand again, but this bar pins me down, making sure I'm unable to get up. Then I feel another lowered on my lower back.

Next my right foot is lifted and spread until I feel it being wedged between two metal bars at my ankles to keep it in place. The same is then done for my left foot, so I'm now not just bent over, but my legs spread extremely wide, allowing for perfect access to the downstairs part of my body.

"Just about ready folks," I hear the asshole guard say and see him put a small stool on my left side. Then he puts one on my right side. As he does this, I struggle and wiggle, trying hard to see if there is a way out of this. Then I stop doing this as I realize what I'm really doing. And that's enjoying the fact that I'm helpless and stuck. Deep inside, I secretly love being made helpless like this, and by moving, it accents it even more, which makes the tingling between my legs get worse.

"For the last piece," he then muses and shows me a large metal hook, only the end of the hook has a small metal ball instead of a sharp hook. I take a look at this and wonder what in the world that could be for. To choke me maybe?

The guard moves behind me and I let out a loud yelp as I find out what it is for, as he's put the end with the ball...at my ass. Wiggling it, he forces it in my ass while laughing. It's a hook...for my ass. It's an anal hook. Oh gosh. And now I feel him wiggling it and making it go deeper as it gets it just as he wants it to be up in my ass.

"Ouch!" I cry out as my hair is yanked again. Only it is not let go like normal and instead makes me lift my head so I'm having to look forward instead of down at the ground. My hair is constantly pulled, grabbed and oddly moved about like he's doing something with it. At the same time, I feel him messing with the damn hook as it uncomfortable moves inside of me. He lifts, pulls and positions the uncomfortable thing, making me whimper repeatedly. Then I feel him let go of my hair, but something still is holding it as well as pulling on the hook with a good amount of force like it's trying to lift me up by the hook. When I try to move my head, I figure what he's done and groan again in humiliation. He's tried my hair with rope...to the anal hook. My hair is connected to the hook, making it be what is pulling on the hook to make me feel like this.

"I need a few volunteers," the guard then tells the crowd. For a moment I thought the group would rush inside the fenced area, but instead they politely raise their hands to be called. The guard then points at a 30 something man with a little bit of a gut, and then to an older woman who must be in her 50s or so. They both walk into the structure via the gate looking like excited school children called on stage.

"You on the left stool, and you on the right," he then directs, motioning to the stools he put out earlier. My heart starts to pound a bit harder now, as I wonder what in the world is about to happen. I try to look to my sides to see them sit, but the way I'm tied off, I can only look in front of me.

"Great. Now, as you heard, she said she needed to be milked, so please...milk the cow," the guard tells them. The moment he says this, I groan. The pair of them seem to be perfectly fine with this because I instantly feel hands on both of my swollen breasts.