The Charity Auction
Chapter 2
Cheryl was so absorbed in her own thoughts, standing on the stage clad in an outfit that
revealed more than she hid, that she was almost unaware of what was happening
around her. The heat from the stage lights caused little rivulets of perspiration to form
on her skin. She squinted against the bright spotlight, hoping to see something of the
audience, but to no avail.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, Number 14, while not exactly 'dressed for
success,' is certainly in appropriate attire for tonight. A sweet piece of slave meat, she
is college-educated with an advanced degree, single and 32 years old. Her
measurements are 35-24-34, 5'10" and 138 pounds. She is a long-time contributor to
the theater and has attended several annual slave auctions, but this is her first time in
this capacity. Perhaps we have one of her former slave boys out there who would be
willing to purchase her?" She felt someone prod her slightly, asking her to turn around
slowly so the audience could get a good look at her. As she turned, she started to lose
her balance on the tiny stand, the man asking her to turn caught her, his hand sliding
between her legs and pulling her back up. As she fell, one of her breasts popped out
from her bra. She heard a chorus of cheers from the mostly male audience, started to
fix the bra...then decided what the hell. She stepped back up on the stand, proudly
pushing her chest forward for all to see. She was proud of her breasts...lush and soft,
yet still firm...she could feel her nipples harden...closed her eyes for a moment and
began stroking her sides. It was like nobody existed except for her. She felt herself
becoming wetter and wetter. Could the auctioneer standing next to her smell her need,
she wondered, getting even hornier at that thought.
"What am I bid for this exquisite creature?," the auctioneer asked, and the bidding
began. Voices called out in response to the ever-increasing price, but Cheryl heard
nothing but unintelligible noise. Her mind was overwhelmed by everything that was
going on, her juices filling her already soaked panties. She was snapped out of her
reverie by a soft hand on her shoulder.
"Come on," he said, "let's make room for the next one."
She was led backstage again, only this time to a different room. Smaller, with no
furniture; unoccupied except for her. Her escort locked the door behind her, chuckling
as he remembered where his hands grabbed when she fell. This one's "owner" was
going to get more than just a back rub, he thought, smelling the moisture on his hand.
What a hot one that one was!
Cheryl slipped out of her shoes and anxiously paced the floor of the small room,
starting to panic with second thoughts of what she'd done. She was a successful,
professional woman...what the hell had she gotten herself into here? Christ, she didn't
even know who had "bought" her.
Oh, God...one of the guys at work? A client? One of the judges, or even worse, a court
clerk or one of the firm's lowly law clerks? She'd purposely not told anyone about this,
though, and it was doubtful any of her colleagues would have known about it.
They...particularly the male ones...thought she was to haughty...stuck up...little Miss
Perfect...but she knew what they really called her..."The Bitch." Not to her face, of
course...but that was because they are all cowards, she thought to herself. She was the
best attorney in the firm; she knew it and so did they. They were just jealous.
Suddenly, the door flew open. She reached down to pick up her shoes, but the person
at the door said to leave them on the floor...and to kneel. Oh, shit, Cheryl thought...this
guy really wants to play this game. Too scared to do anything but obey, she dropped to
her knees and, following his next command, closed her eyes. A black hood was placed
over her head...she nearly swooned at the smell of leather, and the felt a leather collar
going around her heck. She nearly peed on herself when he felt the padlock being
snapped onto the hasp, locking it in place.
"Crawl," her new Master said. "I'll tell you where to turn."
She felt him tug on the leash he'd attached to the collar, and she responded to this
unspoken command by moving on all fours to the door. He guided her down the hall,
out the back door and past her own silently parked car. The tiny pieces of gravel in the
parking lot cut into Cheryl's palms and knees, but she was too absorbed in her own
emotions to notice. She felt a tug on her leash, and stopped short.
"Based on the way you dressed for tonight, and the way you acted on stage, Cheryl, I
must assume you are willing to do more than simply clean my house or cook my dinner,
aren't you?" he asked. His voice sounded vaguely familiar to her...where had she heard
it before? A hand crashing down on her exposed ass brought her out of her
thoughts...reminding her that she had been asked a question.
"Uh, yes," she replied softly. The hand crashed down again, this time hard enough to
cause her to let out a little yelp of pain.
"Properly," he said. "Try it again...properly. Remember who I am to you."
"Yes, Master?" she answered. She was rewarded with a little pat on her already
reddening posterior.
"You want to be used, to be degraded like the slut you know you are, don't you?" he
asked. Cheryl hesitated only slightly before lowering her head in shame.
"Yes, Master," she whispered. "Very good, Cheryl. You may have some potential after
all," he commented. "Do not move," the voice commanded. "Kneel up and put your
hands behind your back." A pair of handcuffs was quickly snapped on her wrists, and
leg restraints similiarly applied to her ankles. "Stay," he commanded, and she heard
the sound of his footsteps moving away.
Cheryl began to panic...where was he going? He's leaving me here alone...like this?
Oh, God...can anyone see me? What if someone comes by? Oh, God...Oh, God. Time
seemed to stand still for Cheryl as she knelt, virtually naked and completely
defenseless, in the dirty, filth-strewn parking lot. How long had it been? Ten minutes?
An hour? All she knew was that she was scared...frightened...and how her knees
ached. She longed to stand...but knew that her "Master" would disapproved. Funny
how she felt when she started thinking about him...her "Master." Strange...exciting to
think of herself as being owned by someone...if only for the weekend. Then it hit
her...how did he know her name?
