Miranda and Geraldine Ch. 08

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(During the auction scene I got carried away, and diverted to another character. This was after attending such an auction in Los Angeles. There will be more about this scene in the future. Another series is in the planning stage, called ‘Auction House’.)

Sold at a slave auction

Miranda thought she was tough and would have laughed contemptuously at anyone who called her sentimental. This was from years of having to suppress her feelings, while growing up on the wrong side of the tracks. Right then a tumult of feelings tumbled around inside her, swamping the usual tough, logical thinking.

She had entered Geraldine and Feebie in a slave auction. Not a fun charity affair, but a real slave auction. On top of that, she had ticked all the boxes in the contract, meaning there were no restrictions on their use. There was no time limit either.

Some of the entrants were being auctioned off for a weekend, or maybe a couple of weeks. Almost all had some restrictions, on what could be done to them. Geraldine and Feebie were on offer with full, no holds barred, contracts for life.

After seeing the first woman auctioned off, Miranda realised what a mistake she had made. She hadn’t realised how attached she was to Geraldine. The guilt was working on her over Feebie too, though not so powerfully.

Feebie had only been with them a short while. A dreamy way of thinking had her easily slipping into becoming, Miranda’s slave girl. It was a favourite fantasy, and she loved acting it out with Miranda and Geraldine.

Geraldine was a wealthy, married woman, with a position in the community. She sat on the school board, attended university committee meetings, and chaired two local charities. All that had been given up, to become Miranda’s obedient puppy-girl. She was too old to be called a girl, but the term was as derisory as her training had been.

Through continual mistreatment, the once haughty Geraldine, was tamed into becoming a pet on a leash. She barked, scampered after toys, wore a collar, ate from a dog bowl, and worshiped her mistress, Miranda.

“Calm down! Let me think. I’ll sweet talk Ceejay into changing them to one lot. You can bid for them both,” Kate began.

“I haven’t got credit here!” Miranda interrupted. “Can’t you get me in there? I can find out where they go and rescue them,” she said, through gritted teeth.

“Right! A new plan then. I’ll enter you in the auction. All three of you in one lot, so the same buyer takes you home. You can help them escape then. To make it work, you’ll have to pretend to be willing. Don’t go off on one, or it’ll all go pear shaped,” Kate warned her.

“Whatever! Just do it, so long as I can be close to Geraldine. It’s my fault she’s in there, and I need to protect her,” Miranda aggressively stated.

“Right! Take a deep breath, and calm down. When I talk to you, call me mistress. No need to look at me like that! I’m trying to help aren’t I? Remember you’re a slave, willingly being auctioned,” Kate told her friend. She pitied the person who bought her. Miranda would tear their hand off, if they dared to touch her.

It was funny how a little bit of Geraldine’s sophistication, and sensitivity, had rubbed off on Miranda. Kate dare not tell her that, for Miranda thought it was soft.

“You ready?” she nudged her friend. “Try to look less aggressive,” Kate warned her friend.

She was going to point out why it was better to look cute and buyable, but changed her mind. If regular bidders were put off, a dealer would snap them up. In his hands they wouldn’t stand a chance. Through hard training, the rough edges would be knocked off, so that even Miranda would learn to submit. They could end up anywhere. They could be shipped abroad, or sold into a high class brothel.

“Right! Paperwork sorted. Look after them Ceejay,” Kate smiled. She watched Miranda being led away. The young woman was beautiful enough to attract the bidders. Though, it didn’t help that she was grinding her teeth, looking mean.

Ceejay checked the paperwork, and set about checking the new piece of property. “Strip off,” Ceejay said. Miranda stripped off her clothes, unfazed at being naked in front of a stranger. She had been to prison, so this was nothing.

“All done, you are free to go now. OK! OK! Silly joke. Just relax will you? Through there, and Jilly will give you a number,” Ceejay told her. It was a relief to see the damn girl out of her section. That one was a bottle of cheap sparkling wine, ready to pop.

Miranda walked into the connecting room, through a curtain. It was dark and her eyes hadn’t adjusted. Jilly and another woman took hold of Miranda’s arms to manacle them.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Miranda complained. It was too late as they had her shackled before she knew what was happening. The expert routine took her by surprise, leaving her helpless for the next stage.

Miranda watched in trepidation as the woman approached, while the other held her illegal bahis still. They had obviously carried this out many times before, as they worked together in perfect co-ordination, without a word spoken.

“Ouch!” Miranda squealed in pain.

“Come on, it wasn’t so bad,” Jilly stated, without a trace of sympathy.

A small handheld machine was used to brand her. She had a slave number tattooed on her upper thigh! She looked down at it with a feeling of dread. What had she let herself in for?

“Hey! What do you think you’re going to do with THAT?” Miranda asked.

“All the slaves are measured. The auctioneer reads out the specifications during the auction,” Jilly told the obnoxious girl.

Miranda considered this for a moment then opened her mouth. If her lovely pet had been subjected to this, it was only right she should be too. She refused to choke, not wanting to show herself up. The thing shaped like a dildo, was slipped to the back of her mouth. An extra, gentle push and it was down her throat. It was obvious the nasty thing was designed to measure her gag reflex, or lack of one.

It was sprayed with disinfectant and cleaned. The woman held it between Miranda’s legs, waiting for the girl to complain. Instead, Miranda caught on to what was next, and spread her thighs. Jilly was careful with the instrument. She slowly eased it into the girl’s vagina, not wanting to upset her more than she was already.

She wrote down the figures on the instrument, for depth, breadth and wetness of the girl’s vagina. Next she measured her lips, while they were engorged. Her lips were already impressively big and firm, though she added a couple of points, knowing they would grow even longer if she were properly stimulated.

“Turn over,” Jilly said. She circled the girls asshole with grease then probed with the instrument. Without being told the girl relaxed, for the instrument to slide in. The girl was tight, obviously not used to having her ass filled. Yet she could take it a long way in, without complaint.

The usual weight and other body measurements followed. The girls breasts weren’t very impressive, but she was young and attractive.

“I’ll take you to the others in a moment. First, the rules. You will not speak while out there on the podium. You will behave yourself, like a good little slave. Got it?” Jilly warned her.

Miranda hesitated. “Ouch!” she yelped. The other woman had stung her bottom with an electric prod. This was definitely not the moment to rescue her friends. She decided to bide her time. Miranda nodded.

She was glad to be re-united with puppy-girl and slave-girl. All three hugged delightedly. “Don’t worry I’ll look after you both. When we get away from here, I’ll take you home, where you belong,” Miranda whispered.

It didn’t take long for their turn to arrive. All three were shuffled to a curtain where the murmur of voices broke through. A woman was led through, from the stage by another assistant, on the end of a chain. It was attached to the lips of her pussy which looked sore, from being pulled.

The three of them silently looked at her. Slave-girl smiled with a distant, vague look in her eyes.

“Come along, slaves, your turn,” Jilly commanded, and took hold of the loose end of a chain. The chain connected the three women by their collars. She pulled on it to jerk their necks. They wore nothing but chains, connecting collars to wrist cuffs, and ankle cuffs. Unused to co-ordinating their movements they shuffled awkwardly onto a well lit stage.

The bright lights blinded them for a moment. The lights were designed to give the audience some anonymity. Miranda peered forward but couldn’t see who was there, or who was likely to buy them. A loud imposing voice introduced each of the slaves in turn, stating a list of their statistics and abilities.

Miranda cringed, on hearing her private places mentioned, with their size and strength. She didn’t know if the grip her pussy had was good or bad, but it was certainly something that should be kept private.

Her asshole too was being described in detail, and it was considered virgin, which it was. Her ability to swallow without gagging was mentioned, for only one reason. She hated the idea of this skill being made use of, by a master. She listened as she was described as untrained, and untamed.

The short lived pride, turned to worry, as it was suggested she was suitable for a master, wanting to break her. Especially when it was said she was tough, and could take pain. Being whipped, until she submitted, was not her idea of a comfortable enslavement. If she had to have a master, then let it be an old guy, who made few demands upon her.

Jilly pulled the other two down, until they were squatting at Miranda’s feet. They knew this position well, and formed a perfect tableau. A buzz of excitement enlivened the crowd of bidders.

There would be few in the audience wealthy enough to bid, on a lot consisting illegal bahis siteleri of three slaves. The prospect of obtaining three slaves left everyone on edge with excitement. The voice went on to describe the fully trained puppy-girl, and slave-girl. The three naked women were greedily stared at by the crowd. Imaginations were rampant, with fantasies of what could be done, with three outstanding looking female slaves.

It was also rare for a slave to be on offer without restrictions. A few women went through the demeaning process, for just the thrill of being auctioned. Always with the proviso, their husbands purchased them. Others were auctioned with restrictions, over what could be done to them. No marks, no abuse, no anal penetration, or whatever they needed to be protected from.

Most slaves offered for sale, were available for a short period. A weekend or a couple of weeks at most, was usual. Sometimes, it was a woman needing money, presented here on stage. An undignified moment would have to be endured, while auctioned, and an even more degrading position suffered, when obeying a master.

Others wanted to experience the naughty thrill, of being a real slave. For them, having to obey a stranger, as their master, would be a fantastic experience. Or it might be a shock, when faced with the reality, of being treated like the object they had become.

These three were offered for sale without a time restriction. They were permanent slaves, for the rest of their lives! The auctioneer left this news to the last. He was satisfied, to hear one or two gasps among the potential bidders. The price would be high, and a big fat commission would be earned.

Miranda felt angry at being described is such a demeaning manor. She only just kept her head, seeing now wasn’t the time to rebel. She would have to behave herself, while helpless, wearing chains.

Slave-girl looked positively excited, at the prospect of fulfilling a dream. She wasn’t stupid, but had become ensnared by her own fantasy world, and stoked up by Miranda’s training regime over the last few weeks.

Puppy-girl looked up at her mistress, with an adoring look in her eyes. She felt all would be well, as long as her mistress was there to look after her. She had been worried earlier, but dismissed the silly thoughts of being abandoned, as soon as her mistress appeared with a promise to protect her.

At first there was a flurry of bids from among the audience. They consisted of a subtle rising of an eyebrow, to the blatant lifting of a numbered card. Most wanted to be able to say they had bid on three naked slaves, knowing they could never afford them. Eventually the figure rose well above most peoples limit, leaving just two bidders to fight it out.

Janet lifted a numbered card, high in the air in a showy display, indicating that she was serious, and determined. A swarthy, Middle Eastern looking man, subtly nodded his head.

The auctioneer had been looking between the two of them, carefully judging the rhythm of numbers spoken in a steady recitation. They might be mesmerised by the sound of his voice, caught in the habit of bidding, or locked in the grip of a competitive fight. The audience looked on, at two gladiators, burning with determination to win.

It might apply to the woman, though he knew Constantine worked to a budget. He was buying on commission for someone; an anonymous slave owner. It could be for anyone in the world, as long as they were rich. Constantine would probably split the three up, to maximise a profit.

The committee were watching Constantine, as it was suspected the contractual time limits, were being ignored, once the slave was delivered.

A few months back, a worried husband, complained about a missing wife. This wasn’t the first time either. The auctioneer sympathised with the husband, explaining wives often stayed on for awhile, if they enjoyed the way they were treated.

It was true, occasionally. Though when he looked up the purchaser to find it was Constantine, he doubted it was true in this case. The go-between had sold the slave to some anonymous person, conveniently forgetting to mention the original contract, was for just one week.

A much higher price would be charged, for a permanent slave. When the buyer decided to sell the slave on, some of the cost could be recovered. In this way, she would soon be lost forever, while passed from master to master over the years.

If there were too many complaints, the committee would have to do something about it.

Eventually Constantine hesitated. At the last second, before the hammer cracked down, he lifted his hand a fraction. Janet smiled, indicating she considered they were hers. With someone else, the strategy of determination and intimidation might have worked. Constantine ignored her.

The auctioneer slowed right down, sensing this was a critical stage. He mentioned a high figure, repeated it, and yet again the enormous amount was clearly canlı bahis siteleri stated, to a hushed room. Constantine again flicked his hand. The movement was slight enough not to be noticed, even by someone sitting close. The auctioneer was experienced, and knew Constantine well.

The auctioneer upped the value by a thousand, while looking the woman in the eye; daring her to agree to the large figure.

Janet looked the three slaves over once more. One of them was older than she liked, though it was perhaps the best trained. The dreamy one looked cute. The rough looking one would take some knocking into shape. A task she was looking forward to.

Three slaves! The combinations of positions and the games three could be used for, stirred her imagination, and her arousal. Yes! She nodded at the auctioneer.

Again he recited the words, repeating the price. Twice, then three times, and again he hesitated. He looked at Constantine, waiting for the slightest nod, or indication of agreement. His hand was poised, ready to hit the wooden block. Bang! The gavel hit the wooden block with a crack; impressive in the hushed room.

“Sold, outright, to seven-three-four,” the auctioneer intoned, as though it were just an everyday occurrence. The room buzzed with excitement, as everyone whispered their conjectures at once. Even quiet individuals turned to complete strangers, sitting next to them, to gossip.

Janet had won three slaves at a good price. The total price was impressive, though split three ways, each slave was a bargain. She watched the three women shuffle out, to loud applause from the audience. They were more impressed with the idea of three slaves being purchased permanently, than the high value.

Each of the people there had their own ideas, over what could be done with three attractive slaves. The idea of owning these women, outright, and for ever, was stimulating their imaginations. They applauded the audacity, and bravery of the three beautiful women, willingly putting themselves into such a demanding position.

One of the men was there to bid on his wife. She was due next. He had to settle his nerves after that tremendous battle. The sight of naked women, in chains, was inspiring. The opportunity of taking three willing slaves home was awesome. He would be willing to leave his wife to someone else, for that opportunity.

When the last naked bottom disappeared behind the curtain, the applause subsided, though the audience hadn’t settled down completely. The auctioneer knew the excitement would increase the next few slave’s price, and of course that meant an increased commission.

A glance over the paperwork confirmed the next slave, was for sale to her husband. That would dampen the bidding, so he decided to omit that detail. The husband could out bid anyone, as he would receive his own bid amount back, minus a commission. It would keep the enthusiasm high if everyone thought they had a chance to buy the slave.

As he read out the specifications, it was obvious this was another grand opportunity. The wife had agreed to a sale, without restrictions to her use. Her whole body was at the mercy of a master, to use as he saw fit. Whatever his fetish, she would have to submit to it.

That was often the case, when a husband was buying his wife. It just gave her an extra thrill of danger. He looked the young woman over, while reading out her specifications. She was young and real beauty. When he mentioned this one too, was selling without restrictions, the room became deathly silent for a moment.

Everyone seemed to talk at once. Even before an opening figure was mentioned, men and women were raising their hands. No subtly this time. Gone were the raised eyebrows or, sly flick of a hand, Hands were being raised all over the room. One being waived furiously, as the guy forgot only two bidders at a time were needed.

Obviously they the bidders were culled, as the price quickly rose, leaving the serious bidders to move in on the kill. The auctioneer guessed the man waiving his hand for attention, was the husband. Either, he wanted to be included in the bidding, or he was desperate to point out a vital code had been missed off the slaves specification.

A code word indicated that anyone could bid, but the slave would ultimately go to the husband, for he would outbid everyone, however high the figure. The auctioneer was trying to keep the excitement going, after the last lot of three women.

He was taking a liberty and a bit of a chance. If the husband didn’t keep bidding, someone else would win the lot, and be expecting to take the man’s wife home, as a slave. It could produce an awkward situation when he came to collect his lot. The auctioneer quickly looked down the list, to check the man’s credit rating. They were well within his limit.

The only concern now was if he walked away, to inform the office of the intentional mistake. Surely he wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave the room, and let his wife end up being won by a stranger. He looked at the young woman, which brought the bidders attention back to her. It was a subtle, but worthwhile ploy. Especially as he gave her a longing look, as though to say, ‘I would, if I could afford it’.

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