The Whipped Heiress Ch. 06

While I was being groped, somebody leaned in close and whispered into my ear, "We're going to take you from the hotel, but I'm not returning you to your mistress. I'm taking you out of town, where you'll be sold at auction to a complete stranger."

My eyes widened with horror and shock, which I later realized was the whole idea. They wanted to see my emotional reaction while the camera was pointed right at my face. I'm sure plenty of people found my look of pure, blind panic to be entertaining.

I was led into the corridor. I was frightened and in a state of shock, but it was like an aphrodisiac had been pumped into me. My heart thumped wildly in my chest but there was also a wet throbbing in my sex. Then, I was dragged into the hotel lobby where even more camera crews were lying in wait.

I was made to kneel on the hard tile floor, next to Leona. She was trembling, and her eyes were welled up with tears. She was making small whimpering as though she was about to cry. My heart went out to her and the fact that I couldn't protect her made me feel even more powerless.

A tall, boyish female in a skirt suit walked across the lobby, correcting the posture of each kneeling slave, making certain that we had our spines arched, our chests thrust out and our knees far apart. She carried a leather belt and if any slave displeased her, she was sure to let us know it.

I could hear the sharp crack of the belt even when she was on the other side of the lobby. Then, when she reached me, her belt smacked me across the backs of my thighs and then my buttocks. She snapped something at me in Sklavian and when I didn't respond, she stood in front of me, placed her hands on my inner thighs and forced my legs obscenely far apart.

With my legs spread wide, my plump, glistening wet pubic lips were shamefully on display. The people with the cameras and camcorders took note of this and zeroed in on my pink slit for an X-rated closeup.

It seemed like hours that the Sklavian media filmed us being abused and objectified and then we were herded out of the hotel and out into the parking lot. From there, we were loaded onto two separate buses. My wrists were untied long enough for me to board the bus and then my wrists were shackled overhead to the ceiling of the bus using leather restraints.

There was a seat for the bus driver and a few security guards, but the slaves were forced to stand, naked and bound as the bus drove us away from the town and to a town called Argropolis...or Gropolis. I'm not sure. I don't speak Sklavian, and I couldn't get any of the slaves to translate as we'd all been forbidden to speak.

At some point, the bus took sharp turn, the slaves lost their footing, and we were all lurched to one side of the bus. Many of us ended up being pitched up against each other. A Ukrainian slave named Clarice pressed close to me and her breasts mashed into mine. As the bus rocked, she rubbed up against the front of my body and another slave rubbed up against the back of me,

Clairice's face was stained with tears and she was softly whimpering, however, I was shamefully aroused as her body pressed up close against me and without thinking I leaned in and kissed Clarice on the mouth.

And why not? We had been sentenced to a miserable fate, we had no hope of escape or mercy, so why not take what tiny pleasures I could find, such as stealing a kiss from the lovely, naked slave in front of me? Clarise tensed up at first, but then she kissed me back. It was awkward, kissing while bound and with naked slaves pressing against us, but it seemed to calm her. Her whimpering ceased and some of the tension eased out of her. Then the kiss deepened, and I felt my heart pounding faster and faster.

With naked bodies pressed up against me and Clarice's tongue in my mouth, some of the anxiety bled out of me as well. I didn't know where we were going or who would be purchasing me when I was sold at auction, but I got lost in the moment and surrendered to the feelings of flesh rubbing up against flesh.

The bus continued to bounce and lurch and jostle the slaves about, but I made a determined effort to keep my naked body pressed up against Clarice. We rubbed up against each and squirmed as the bus bounced us around. We writhed against each other, her thighs, pelvis, and breasts pushed forward into my naked body as she squirmed. It was lewd and indecent the way we rubbed our naked bodies against each other. I felt a certain degree of embarrassment knowing that all the other slaves must be watching us, but I continued to grind against her anyway.

At some point I spread my legs wide and attempted to grind my pink slit against her thigh. It was awkward what with my wrists bound above my head and the bus rocking and messing up my sense of balance, but I continued to try. The task was frustratingly difficult but what better way to pass the time as I was being unceremoniously transported to be sold at a slave auction?

It was an endless struggle and I never quite succeeded in grinding myself to orgasm on Clarice's body, but it gave me something to do while I awaited my inevitable fate.

When the bus finally stopped, I didn't even notice. It wasn't until I felt the sharp crack of leather across my ass that I took note of my surrounding and realized that several of the other slaves had already been unshackled and were being taken off the bus.

A female security guard grabbed me and said something in Sklavian that might have been her accusing me of being a slut. Or maybe she was threatening me. It was hard to tell. I don't speak Sklavian, but her tone sounded unfriendly.

I felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over me as I realized the guard had seem me thrusting my pelvis up against another naked slave, but she didn't punish me for it.

My bound wrists were unhooked from the ceiling, and the leather cuffs removed. The other slaves were being herded off the bus with their hands clasped behind the backs of their necks. I mimicked them and did the same. The guards seemed to be satisfied with my behavior, so I just followed the other slaves and did what they did.

I got off the bus and stepped, naked and barefoot into a parking lot. The sun had set, but someone had set up super-bright panel lighting along a footpath. Instead of being able to blend in with the darkness, my naked body was noticeably on display due to the powerful outdoor illumination.

After I got off the bus, leather cracked painfully across my ass urging me forward. My head was reeling, my breath was coming in desperate gasps and a surge of panic washed over me. I couldn't seem to think coherently, so I just react to external stimuli. I ran away from the stinging cracks of the whip and followed the reddened buttocks of the slave in front of me.

Running with my hands behind the back of my neck and my bouncing tits thrust shamelessly forward was awkward and humiliating, but any attempt to slow the pace resulted in my ass being struck with the leather belt, so, I picked up my pace and ran naked and barefoot while the Sklavian media recorded the whole thing.

Our handlers began to shout orders at us in both English and Sklavian. I was still being treated like a slave, but at least when our abusers shouted at me in English, it made my enslavement less confusing, and it was easier to follow orders.

More handlers appeared, as if by magic. They all had leather straps and they smacked us with great enthusiasm, driving us faster and causing a red-hot sting each time they connected with my ass or the backs of my thighs. And we weren't allowed to stop running until we'd reached an elevated wooden stage. It was approximately six feet tall with a ladder propped up against the back end.

The handlers pushed us roughly together, then told us not to touch one another. Then from somewhere up on stage, I heard the booming voice of a woman making an announcement. The announcement was in Sklavian so I couldn't understand what she was saying, but whatever she said received thunderous applause in response. That's when I realized there must be a massive crowd on the other side of the stage. They were obscured by the darkness, the glare of the lights and the massive bulk of the stage itself, but I could still hear them.

Olena, one of the female slaves was made to climb the ladder. And as she ascended, I couldn't help but be transfixed by her perfectly shaped buttocks. Her beautiful ass was reddened from being lashed repeatedly by the leather strap, but that did nothing to detract from her mesmerizing beauty.

Shortly after she climbed the ladder, there was more chatter and a loud announcement. I couldn't see the inhabitants of the stage from where I was standing, but it seemed to me that someone had a microphone or some sort of device to amplify their voice. The unseen female who was talking had a voice that was boisterous and filled with authority.

Somehow Alya had managed to weave her way through the crowd of naked bodies to stand by my side. She leaned in close to me and whispered, "That's the voice of an auctioneer. She's just announced that Olena is the first slave to be sold."

"You mean, there's a crowd of bidders out there, just beyond the stage?"

"That's exactly what I mean," Alya whispered back. We were two naked slaves trying to talk to each other, scared as hell the handlers would hear. I felt an electric rush of excitement, wondering what they would do to us if we got caught.

One by one, my friends were made to climb that ladder and get up onto the stage. All of them were naked and their perfect backsides were all colored with a telltale blush indicative of stinging corporal punishment.

Every time one of my friends climbed that dreaded ladder, another stab of fear plunged deeper into me and twisted around in my guts. It meant my turn to climb that ladder was getting closer and closer. In America I had often fantasized about being sold as a naked slave at a public auction, however, the reality was far more terrifying than my fantasies.

I was the last slave to be ordered up the ladder. Leona was next to last, and Alya went up just before Leona. When I was the only slave on the ground, the handlers gave me a grim look and I felt all my courage go out of me. If fleeing was an option, I would have, but I was naked, surrounded and in a foreign country where I didn't speak the language. There was no way to escape my fate.

I was forced to climb up the ladder and get on the stage. I felt overwhelmed by the reality of my situation. I was naked, on display and about to be auctioned off as a sex slave! My heart pounded and my pulse raced and then I got a look at the size of the crowd. There were over a hundred people in the audience, enjoying the sight of my naked body and I was soon to become the legal property of one of them!

The auctioneer was a tall woman with an athletic build. She and her assistants all wore matching outfits, a uniform of sorts, black leather boots, black leggings, and extremely tight black tank tops. My chest was heaving, and it was like somebody had given me a shot of aphrodisiac and adrenaline at the same time. A potent cocktail of fear and sexual arousal swirling around in my stomach, and I wished it were all over. I looked at the auctioneer, tall, athletic, and attractive. I wished that I could become her slave and just skip the degrading ritual of the auction itself.

In my mind, the auctioneer would have been an acceptable mistress, and it would calm my fears considerably to end all of the uncertainties and have the auction over.

Instead, I was dragged out to center stage, close to the audience, almost to the edge, giving the crowd of Sklavian bidders an opportunity to examine me. As I was ogled by a mass of fully dressed strangers, a sense of helplessness washed over me, spurring my sense of arousal to even greater heights.

"Oh, God," I gasped as I was forced forward, and the auctioneer grabbed both of my wrists in her strong, ironlike grip.

"Silence!" the tall, imposing woman snapped at me and my breathing became rougher and more ragged as my chest felt constricted. I felt as if I might pass out, yet there I was standing, and when the leather boot of the auctioneer kicked my legs apart, I struggled to keep my balance, my breasts quaking with my muffled sobs.

With my wrists trapped behind my back, the auctioneer turned to the crowds and called out to them in Sklavian, no doubt extolling the virtues of my body and explaining the sinful fun that they could have with me if they were willing to outbid everyone else and take me home with them.

There were more shouted words in Sklavian and then the auctioneer let go of my wrists and wrapped her arm tightly around my torso, roughly squeezing my boobs and pinching my nipples.

"Aaaahhhh!"

I screamed as my breasts were abused and the crowd roared in approval. My panic and discomfort were all greatly entertaining to them. Then, I was spun around, and my arm twisted behind my back. I was forced to bend over with my ass facing the crowds and one of the auctioneer's assistants came over with a leather strap.

"No!" I screamed, but before the word was even fully out of my mouth, the strap cracked against my sore bottom. My breasts shook underneath me as the strap stung my buttocks repeatedly, and once again, my screams delighted the crowd.

My poor bottom was reddened for the entertainment of dozens of prurient strangers. They clapped, laughed, and shouted at my suffering and then the auctioneer signaled for the spanking to stop, and she called out for more bids.

I recognized a few words in Sklavian. I knew words like, erotikós and pórni. The auctioneer was describing me in blatantly sexual terms in order to entice people to bid on me.

I was then forced to stand straight, and my legs forced even apart even further. My long hair was pulled far back, forcing me to arch my spine and look straight up at the night sky.

My head was reeling, and my heart was pounding furiously in my chest and then one of the handlers came up behind me and I felt her between my widespread legs. It felt as if she was pressing something up against my plump pubic lips. I had a moment of panic and attempted to squirm away from the rounded tip, but it was too late for me to do anything. There was a quick, hard thrust and suddenly I was impaled on something phallic.

The crowd roared.

"Aaaaahhhhh!" I screamed in helpless humiliation as the thick shaft was turned and twisted around inside of me. It was pumped in and out, deeper, and deeper as I whimpered and whined. My breathing was rough and ragged, and my pulse was racing as I felt the thick instrument...no doubt some sort of dildo...forced uncomfortably deep.

Reflexively, I twisted my hips in a vulgar fashion in a futile attempt to escape being raped by the fake cock. The crowd was largely entertained by my reactions. There was clapping and shouting as the cock-like shaft was forced deep into my moist interior.

I raised myself up on the balls of my feet as the fake cock impaled me deeper and deeper. My head was reeling, and I didn't speak Sklavian, but I could still recognize that men and women in the audience were shouting out bids as I was crudely raped and humiliated.

My vagina was roughly probed and an assistant with a leather strap proceeded to spank me as the bids were called out. I writhed and called out piteously. Without meaning to, I was providing entertainment to the crowds and inspiring them to want me even more. The bidding became even more passionate. And when the cock was withdrawn from my tight sex, I continued to move my hips in a shamefully lewd fashion as if I were attempting to thrust my sex up against something or someone.

The auctioneer gripped my wrists tightly and lifted my arms high above my head as she incited the wicked members of the audience to big even higher. I struggled madly against the vicelike grip around my wrists and then my vulnerable pubic lips were cruelly smacked with a leather strap. I attempted to press my legs together, but two of the people on stage grabbed my ankles and pried them apart and my plump pubic lips were smacked again.

"Ah! Aaahhh! AAAAHHHH!" I screamed as my exposed pubes were spanked for the entertainment of the sadistic crowd.

My wrists and ankles were gripped too tightly for me to break free, nevertheless I squirmed and struggled and gave the gaping masses the sort of grand spectacle that they had been hoping for. Only a few members of the crowd would get to go home with a naked slave, but hundreds of them got to enjoy my suffering and my public humiliation.

Bids were flying fast and furious. The more I squirmed and sobbed, the more intense the bidding. Hundreds of faces gaped at my helpless nudity, young men, and women, pushing forward, and pointing, but most of the bidders were quickly weeded out and towards the end, it was down to four determined bidders.

One was an old woman, leaning on a walking cane as she placed her bids. Then there was the middle-aged woman who had sort of a Kate Winslet look to her. There was a creepy old man with a sinister, Christopher Lee sort of vibe. And there was a young man with Mediterranean skin and dark hair who looked as if he couldn't be any older than eighteen or nineteen.

All my fantasies involved being dominated by women. The thought of being purchased by a man, horrified me. My legs were pulled wide apart as the bidding continued and one of the auctioneer's assistants shoved something into my ass. I squealed and twisted and then the bidding became even more intense.

Those last four bidders were quite overt in their desire to own me, but in the end, the middle-aged woman outbid all her competitors. She was proclaimed the winning bidder and I soon learned that her name was Morgane Papantoniou.

"You belong to her now," one of the handlers proclaimed to me. She spoke to me in English and explained what I could expect from that point on.

"Mrs. Papantoniou will be given legal documents that declare her to be your legal owner for the next thirty days. If you try to escape, you will be caught and returned to her, and more time will be added to your slave contract. Do as your told and stay out of trouble, and in thirty days, you'll be returned to your regular owner."

Once all the legal documents had been signed, Morgane came over to collect me. Up close she looked even more impressive. Her hair was golden blonde, and her eyes were intense. She had a self-assured, commanding look about her. She ordered that a leather collar be buckled around my throat and my wrists be bound behind my back. With my wrists thus bound, my shoulders were pulled back and my breasts were thrust forward as if I were inviting Morgane to pay attention to them.

It was Morgane's idea to have me put my breasts suggestively on display like that, so, I wasn't at all surprised when she reached out and cupped them both in her hands.

"When I get you home, I'm giving you to my teenage daughter as a gift."

I felt relieved. Somehow, being owned by a teenager felt safer and far less scary than being owned by this col, imperious woman.

Then, as if reading my mind, Morgane added, "Just because my daughter is young, don't assume that she'll go easy on you. It was her idea to have a whipping post installed on the property. She'll be looking for an excuse to whip you."

As she explained my fate, Morgane continued to knead my breasts. Then she trapped my responsive nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and played with them. I moaned shamefully as my already erect nipples were teased, rolled, and pinched. My nipples throbbed deliciously, and my entire body felt feverish.

My heart was pounding in my ears and my entire body was tingling, so it was difficult to focus on Morgane's words, but I did manage to catch a few details.