The Story of Odilia Ch. 01

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Odilia is sold as a naked slave in a public slave auction.
5.5k words
4.3
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Part 1 of the 16 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 12/13/2013
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Schlank
Schlank
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"Lovely naked Princess," called out the course auctioneer, "only nineteen years of age, healthy, slender and long limbed. She has firm, spankable buttocks and soft, resilient skin!" And then as if to demonstrate the resilience of my exposed skin, he smacked my already sore buttocks with a leather belt, causing me to cry out.

I was naked, exposed and standing on a wooden stage where all the commoners of the Village could openly stare at my exhibited nudity. My arms had been tied helplessly behind my back and I had been forced to stand before the unruly crowds with my legs far apart, displaying my wet, throbbing sex to any merchant, tavern-keeper, barmaid or common peasant in the crowd who cared to look.

The auctioneer had an assistant who stood on the stage with us. She was a peasant girl, barely older than I, however, she wore a dress of course linen, while I stood naked and vulnerable, with the most delicate parts of my female anatomy exposed and open to fondling, pinches, cruel smacks and lewd stares. The fact that she was clothed, while I was naked and shamefully on-display made her seem as if she were much older and imbued with far greater authority than I.

"Long, lovely red hair, like that of a wild fox and lovely, high, ripe little breasts and pink, responsive nipples, fit for gentle stroking or passionate pinching and pulling" he announced and then to punctuate this announcement, he wrapped his arm around my naked torso, pulling me closer and roughly grabbed my naked, vulnerable breasts with his strong, calloused hand, painfully pinching my nipples and causing me to cry out once again in pain. Much to my shame, this abuse of my poor, sensitive nipples caused the urgent throbbing between my legs to intensify.

Everything that the auctioneer did to me was considered erotic and grand entertainment to the crowds who witnessed my humiliation. When the auctioneer grabbed my long red hair and yanked on it, forcing me to bend at the waist, and assaulted my vulnerable buttocks once again with his horrible, stinging leather strap, the crowds cheered and urged him on. I whimpered and cried out with pain, much to the delight of the crowds. Their enthusiastic shouts and jeers soon drowned out my wailing and whimpering and other sounds of misery.


The auctioneer showed me no mercy, spanking my poor, innocent buttocks, grabbing my vulnerable breasts and pinching my sensitive, swollen nipples.

And rather than stand idly by during this indecent display, the auctioneer's assistant thrust her hand between my tights and forced her long, intrusive fingers deep within my throbbing sex. The crowds loved the grand spectacle as the two merciless tormenters abused my slender, naked body and they cheered and urged them on as the auctioneer pulled on my long hair to manipulate my helpless, naked body. At one point he yanked my head backwards, causing me to arch my back dramatically and thrust my breasts straight up.

Of course, my legs were spread far apart, and my pelvis was shoved boldly forward, exposing my naked loins in a most indecent manner. While forced to stand in this position, the loud, unruly people of the village, had an unrivaled view of my breasts and my wet, throbbing sex.


Foul-mouthed on-lookers in the crowd shouted crude suggestions at the general direction of the auction block, making me feel even more humiliated and denigrated and then the bidding began.


I couldn't see the crowd with my head pulled back the way it was, but I could hear the voices of both men and women bidding for the privilege to own my naked body. I naively had believed that only men would want to take possession of me.

The bidding had started at a mere four silver pieces, however the auctioneer's assistant proceeded to stroke my poor, tormented sex, causing me to moan and helplessly convulse my hips in an obscene manner. The more the hateful girl caused me to moan, gasp and squirm in an undignified fashion, the more the bids mounted. Soon the bids were in gold, not silver.

Then I was turned so that my buttocks were facing the crowd. "Delectable, firm buttocks," the auctioneer cried. "A delight to spank," he called out suggestively, "who wants the pleasure of marking this soft, DWLICIOUS skin and making this princess howl with swat after delightful swat?"

My head was then twisted around so that the crowd could see the distress on my face as the auctioneer's assistant mercilessly struck my tender buttocks with a leather belt again and again and again. The crowd seemed to respond well to my spanking and each time I screamed out in pain and indignation, another member of the crowd would loudly shout out a bid. It seemed to me as if cruelly punishing my naked flesh incited greater interest in purchasing my naked flesh.

The auctioneer and his assistant seemed to agree with me, and the leather belt punished my innocent, naked body with one stinging smack after another, marking my helpless nudity with painful, red marks and provoking feverish bidding amongst the unwashed masses who witnessed my distress.

The entire crowd was enraptured by the show, and not just the libidinous, young men. Young women watched my suffering, smiled and pointed, enjoying my pain and humiliation as much as their male counterparts. Some of the women were so enthusiastic to revel in my torment and public abasement, that they pushed their way through the crowds and made their way to the front, where they hugged the stage and their eyes became riveted to my naked body.

Then I was bent over, with my legs spread apart very far. My face felt hot with embarrassment as the auctioneer's assistant then used her bare hands to spread my buttocks and stroke my delicate little anus with her fingers. I stamped my feet in protest, and in response she cruelly pinched my swollen labia.

The bidding continued to climb until an old, white-haired woman raised a withered finger and offered a bid.

Suddenly all bidding stopped. The auctioneer's assistant continued to provoke whimpers and moans out of me, by stroking my swollen pubic lips and swatting my poor, tender buttocks with his bare hand, however the crowd went eerily silent.

"Her cries and wails when she's punished make sweeter music than any songbird," the auctioneer called out and his assistant swatted by bottom and made me cry out in pain, but there were no more bids from the crowd.

"Will no one bid higher than eighteen gold pieces?"

Again, the crowd was silent.

"She's a delight to punish," the auctioneer boldly announced to the crowd and his assistant assaulted my buttocks with a flurry of stinging spanks, making me whimper and sob, however nobody in the crowd was willing to outbid the old woman.

Finally, the auctioneer conceded to the old woman and announced, "The lovely, young Princess Odilia, sold to Mistress Jarvinia, the w..."

There was a pause, and in between my wide-spread legs, I could see the old women raise an eyebrow in a meaningful way.

Then, when the auctioneer spoke again, he said, "Mistress Jarvinia, the wise woman, who lives just outside of our village for the grand sum of eighteen gold pieces!"

Another naked, female slave was herded onto the stage and I was dragged off. I was then rushed down the steps and a leather collar was bucked around my throat. Then the old woman appeared in front of me, with a long, leather cord. She tied one end of it to an iron ring on my collar. The other end she held in her hand.

She then studied my naked body with a bold, appraising eye. As she took a great deal of time to examine my naked flesh, I took in her appearance as well. Her skin was pale, and her features were stark. Her lips and eyebrows were thin, and her eyes looked dark and uncaring. Her hair was as white as snow and her clothing was as black as pitch. She was a study is stark contrasts.

"Gag her," ordered the old woman and suddenly something large and unpleasant was forced into my mouth and then a leather strap was secured across my face, thus forcing my mouth open, so that I could not speak.

The old woman was much stronger than she looked and when she pulled on my leash, I was very nearly jerked off my feet.

I was then led through the cobblestone streets at a very brisk pace. The old woman walked with the speed and energy of a woman half her age. I had to follow at a lively pace in order to keep up.

It was Auction Day, so there were plenty of people on the streets. Plenty of young men and women smacked my sore buttocks as I was led past them. Because of my gag, I couldn't complain that the villagers were abusing me.... not that there was any guarantee that the old woman would even care.

At a busy intersection of streets, one ambitious young woman grabbed one of my breasts and gave it a painful squeeze. And with my arms bound behind me, I could do nothing to protect my breasts from such an assault. The young lady smiled at me as if this behavior were somehow normal and unobjectionable.

Up until four weeks ago, I had been a woman with money, indulgent parents and fine clothes and status and servants, but now suddenly, the fact that I was in a foreign land, stripped naked, bound helpless, gagged, sold as a slave, with my reddened, stinging buttocks on view for everyone to see and being led cruelly down a cobblestone lane on a leash seemed normal.

People on the street continued to smack me on my sore, naked buttocks, but somehow it didn't seem like outlandish behavior anymore. Somehow it felt commonplace and appropriate. Somehow it seemed as if I had never had status or money or dignity. Somehow it seemed like being abused and violated and ogled and spanked by boorish men and women was something I had been born to.

And then the old woman led me off the cobblestone streets and onto a dirt path that led outside the village.

We saw far fewer people on the dirt path than we did in the village, but still the occasional trapper or soldier would pass us by. They would speak respectfully to Mistress Jarvinia and many complimented her, however my status was much lower than hers and none considered me worthy of greeting.

And then eventually we passed into the woods.

For a naked, barefoot girl with her hands tied behind her back, the woods make you feel especially vulnerable. Unseen things like spiderwebs and leaves and weeds can smack against your naked breasts and belly and thighs with no warning and you have no way for you to protect yourself.

And walking on roots, prickly weeds, rocks and fallen tree branches creates a special sort of peril for a slave-girl who's forced to march through the woods on her bare feet.

But the old woman never slowed down and she kept leading through the forest at a brisk pace. I whimpered and groaned loudly into my gag as several tall, prickly weeds smacked my breasts, stinging them with a new kind of pain. However, the old woman took no notice and continued to drag me behind her at the same speed as before. She was quick and surefooted as she traveled through the woods and she expected me to be the same.

I longed to ask her how far we had to travel, however my gag prevented me from doing more than making muffled moans and whimpering sounds.

Eventually, and much to my relief, we came to a cottage. It was old, and made mostly out of wood, with a stone fireplace. Not far from the front entrance, I recognized a whipping post and I knew without asking, that someday I would be tied to that post and punished cruelly. I also noticed a pillory and two upright wooden posts with metal rings set into them at various heights. Without asking, I guessed that this was also designed to bind naked slaves to in preparation for cruel punishment. The old woman led me inside without mentioning so much as a word about these bondage devices.

Strangely the interior of the cottage seemed to be larger than the exterior. I saw a large, wooden tale. I saw a fire burning on a giant hearth, with a cauldron hanging over it. There were barrels against the wall and jars and jugs and small bottles stacked on shelves above the barrels. Two doors led deeper into the house, indicating other rooms beyond this one. Brooms and walking staffs were leaned up in one corner. Whips and paddles were hung from pegs on a wall near that corner.

And then I noticed that there were two other naked slaves in the room.

They were both on their hands and knees and their legs were far apart as they scrubbed the hardwood floors. Welts and red blotches on their buttocks and backs of their thighs gave evidence of recent punishments.

"Gretel," the old woman snapped, "Come here!"

The blonde slave flinched when the old woman called her name and she hurried to obey. She was about my age and had a very pretty face; however, her eyes were filled with fear and anxiety.

"This is my new, slave, Odilia," announced the old woman. "I want her to get a good look at you."

Apparently, Gretel had been ordered to do this before. Without any further instruction, the naked slave stood with her legs far apart, her hands behind her neck, her elbows way back and her spine somewhat arched, thus causing her breasts to be thrust out, as if she were offering them to me.

She had a very nice body with lovely high breasts, a slender waist and a flat belly. I was just noticing all of this, when I took note of the main thing that the old woman wanted me to see.

Gretel's pink, swollen sex was much more exposed than mine, as Gretel had no pubic hair. I'd never seen a girl my age whose sex was so completely exposed before. I felt sympathy for the girl as the she looked even more exposed and naked than the slaves on the auction block. Even with my own short growth of pubic hair, I had more covering than her.

"None of my slaves are allowed to have pubic hair," the old woman announced. "You'll be shaved as smooth as glass."

Being robbed of my pubic hair was a humiliation I hadn't anticipated, and I whimpered and flinched at the announcement.

"A slave should never be allowed to conceal her charms. They should have shaved you before they put you on the auction block!"

Then to Gretel, she barked, "Bring me ropes!"

And using a strength that a woman her age should not possess, Mistress Jarvinia grabbed me about the waist and threw my bound body across the wooden table in a swift and sudden maneuver that surprised me and caused me to gasp.

My bound arms were untied and Mistress Jarvinia ordered me to spread out on the surface of the table with my arms out and legs spread wide. The tone of her voice was cold and harsh and intimidating. There was no thought of disobeying her.

Gretel returned with the ropes with great haste and my wrists were rapidly tied to the corners of the table. Then, with surprising swiftness and efficiency my ankles were tied as well. Mistress Jarvinia had made me completely helpless. I struggled mightily to close my legs together; however, the old woman had been quite skilled in her undertaking with the ropes. No matter how desperately I struggled I could do little more than twitch.

Then she took something that looked like a cleaning rag and rolled into up and thrust it underneath my hips, forcing me to raise up my pelvis, stretching me out even more and making my sex even more prominently displayed. I whimpered as my muscles were now stretched painfully taut and I was helpless to make even the slightest movement.

Moving quickly to obey, Gretel next brought her mistress a bucket of warm water, two clean cloths and a bar of soap. And from the recesses of her own clothing, Mistress Jarvinia produced a very sharp, intimidating razor. I whimpered at the sight of it, horrified that that such a sharp, formidable looking blade would be pressed against my most delicate folds of skin.

"Slaves are silent when they're being shaved," barked the old woman. And then as if to accentuate this statement, she slapped my inner thigh several times. Then she took my pubic lips between her thumb and forefinger and pinched them cruelly.

"If my foolish, naked slave should cry out while I'm shaving her, my hand might not be as steady as I should like, and then I might accidentally cut my foolish slave girl."

My eyes widened, and a sense of panic washed over me. I resolved to be as quiet as a mouse until this ordeal was over.

The old woman released my poor pubic lips and then Gretel washed my pubic mound with soap and water. Despite my fear, the heat and the urgency between my legs increased and I could feel my clitoris growing hard as the rough, wet cloth was pressed against my pelvis and stroked back and forth across my pubic lips from top to bottom.

And then came the razor.

Once again, I was impressed with the old woman's physical abilities. Her hands were steady, and they did their job efficiently. She shaved me around my pubic lips, underneath my navel and even around my anus, leaving me as smooth and hairless as the day I was born. Then Mistress Jarvinia used a clean cloth to clean me up and wipe away all the refuse that had once been my pubic hair.

"Now, take this away," the old woman commanded Gretel, handing her the now dirty cloth, "And the bucket and the soap!"

Gretel scurried to obey and soon I was left alone with my new mistress. My heart beat painfully loud in my chest as I dreaded whatever fate she next planned to inflict upon me. With my pubic hair gone I felt far more naked than before and terribly vulnerable

"All slaves should always be just this exposed and on display," the old woman announced as she grabbed one of my swollen pubic lips and pinched it painfully. "A slave is never fully naked when she can use her pubic hairs to conceal her eager little mouth with its swollen lips, now is she?"

I wasn't certain if the old woman wanted me to answer, but with my mouth gagged I could do little more than make whimpering sounds.

"I'll shave you every day, just to make certain that you're always properly naked," the old woman said. "As long as you're in my house, you'll never be able to hide your wanton arousal!"

Then using both hands, the old woman grabbed the delicate lips of my sex and roughly spread the lips of my vagina wide. I was horrified to have my most delicate and intimate place manhandled by such a grotesque woman, and yet my breath came faster, and I felt a familiar heat building in my loins. I strained to close my legs, but against the ropes that bound me, my struggles were inadequate. Then the old woman, much to my horror pinched hard at my clitoris. I grunted and whimpered, and tears formed in my eyes once more, however I could do nothing to stop the old woman from abusing the most private part of my anatomy. I sobbed and strained vainly against my bonds as the old woman used one hand to pinch and stretch my pubic lips and used the other to pinch hard at my clitoris.

And much to my shame, as this woman's leathery fingers abused my soft, delicate flesh I felt my clitoris harden and grow larger.

And then she ceased pinching my swollen pubic lips and instead inserted two rough, boney, ancient fingers into my vagina. "Oh, please, no," I attempted to scream, but my mouth was gagged, and the only audible sounds were pathetic mewling and gasps. I attempted to shut out my misery in the only manner possible. I closed my eyes tightly, so I would not have to see my tormenter as she abused my helpless body.

She pushed her fingers roughly deeper and deeper inside of me, and despite my revulsion at her physical appearance and much to my shame, the heat in my sex redoubled and I could feel my face and my breasts blushing. Her fingers stabbed at the mouth of my uterus sending a new contraction of pleasure through my entire body. My pubic lips thickened around her fingers and my sex became wetter and wetter. My breath came in short, urgent pants and when the old woman withdrew her fingers I wailed into my gag and opened my eyes wide in shock. She had brought me right to the edge of a shattering orgasm and then left me in horrible torment.

Schlank
Schlank
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