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And the two handlers reached down and gripped one ankle each, positioning the girl’s feet until she was bent over with her legs apart. Oh my god. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The redhead’s pussy came into full view, beautiful, engorged and moistly pink. Was she aroused? How could she be, after all this, the cold voice, the directions? It was like she was a piece of meat at an auction, being inspected before she was sold, how could she be aroused in the face of so much humiliation?
But sure enough, the girl’s pussy was glistening under the bright lights, and this time the two handlers did something unexpected. They took off their gloves and two pairs of male hands appeared. Before, I hadn’t paid too much attention to the men clad in black, they were shapeless, nameless, faceless minions doing the voice’s bidding. But now things were about to get a lot more personal.
Because two pairs of male hands pulled the redhead’s white cheeks apart, baring her cunt and ass under the glare, both holes winking, visible, and so gorgeous. It was amazing to see a woman spread like this, aroused, glossy with her own cream, and I watched, transfixed, as one of the men reached his hand to her folds and pulled her labia apart, revealing that clit. Holy shit, they weren’t pulling any punches here.
“Let the bidding begin,” came the female voice musically, and my suspicions were confirmed. I’d already felt like the redhead was going to be sold in some way, shape or form. It wasn’t quite a livestock auction, but there were definitely hints. It was the way she was being displayed, like a Faberge egg in a perfect glass case, each layer dropping away until her internal jewels were revealed. And in this case, her pussy and ass were the priceless treasures, unveiled, gorgeous and glistening under the harsh overhead lights.
And evidently there was a flurry of bidding.
“Thirty thousand,” came the female voice. “Do I hear thirty-five?”
Holy shit! Someone was betting thirty thousand dollars for the beautiful redhead? That was my dad’s salary at the factory for a year, with OT included. Oh my god, what was going on?
But the two handlers weren’t stopping at merely holding the girl open and exposed. As I watched, eyes wide and mouth open, one handler dropped his finger to trail wetly between the redhead’s folds, causing her cunt to shiver and tremble, moistening at his touch.
“Oh yes,” purred the female voice. “Article Twenty is receptive to a man’s touch, she’ll be a knock-out for the right man. Now do I hear forty thousand?” Because the silent bidders, wherever they were, had gone nuts and the price of the beautiful girl was sky rocketing. Forty thousand dollars for the woman? For how long? A night? Two nights? Twenty minutes? I shook my head, still confused at the obviously illegal scene before me.
But despite the degrading circumstances, the redhead grew more and more aroused under the handler’s touch, his finger niggling her clit, then going back and running gently up one plush lip before trailing across her asshole and running down the other. Oh shit, the redhead was creaming, her body wetly convulsing as they played her and I shivered to myself, my cunt getting hot, an intense pressure forming between my legs. Oh my god, was I turned on by all this? Watching two anonymous men tease a naked girl on screen as she was bid on by more anonymous men? Holy shit, I was really messed up in the head.
But I couldn’t tear my eyes away because the girl let out a silent gasp of ecstasy then, lifting her face to the heavens, that long red hair draped over her shoulders, breasts swaying wildly under her torso. And before my entranced eyes, her pussy contracted wildly, coming hard as the men stroked her, fondled her, making her scream with desire, eyes squeezed shut in delight, breasts shaking to
and fro as her cunt creamed wildly, spasming hard, gushing with a clear juice.
And with a ding, a bell rang out.
“Sold!” exclaimed the female voice. “Article Twenty is sold to Bidder Three for fifty thousand dollars. Bid final.”
And I watched as the redhead, gasping, still shuddering from her orgasm was led offstage, knees wobbly, legs barely holding her up. Oh my god, the girl had been sold to some random stranger who’d paid unthinkable amounts of money for her. What was going on? Why weren’t the cops busting in? But I had no time to dwell because as my mind whirled crazily, the door banged open.
Miles stood there, a nasty scowl on his face.
“Get up,” he snarled. “You’re next.”
Of course I couldn’t get up, I was bound hand and foot. But he leaned forward and I screamed at the flash of light. With a quick snip, the knife slashed through the binds on my feet and I was free to walk. Grabbing my elbow, he hauled me up and dragged me stumbling to the door.
“You’re up next, my little prize,” he sneered again, spittle flying from his mouth to land on my face, the wet droplets sticking to my skin. “And judging from what Rachel’s told us, you’re gonna fetch a good price. A very, very high price,” he wheezed.
My cheeks colored. What had my friend told them about me? Was Rachel a part of this? Couldn’t be, she’d just met them earlier today and had been knocked out by their potion. So what was going on? What about me was making this guy’s eyes shine with greed, his mouth practically drooling with hunger? All I knew was that I was up next to be sold at auction … and I was absolutely terrified.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ellie
Miles hauled me through what seemed like endless hallways, all of them dark, shrouded with drapes, before passing through a series of ornately furnished rooms. Where were we? Some kind of underground fortress? An underground clubhouse where illicit auctions took place? Unfortunately, there was no one in any of the rooms so I couldn’t scream and save myself, although maybe everyone here was in on the scheme and it would have been pointless.
Finally, we entered a small antechamber.
“Here,” grunted Miles, thrusting a piece of cloth at me. “Put it on.”
I took it with trembling fingers, holding the cloth up. Holy shit, it was a midnight blue robe, just like the one I’d seen the redhead wear. It was full-length with long sleeves, the material shimmery, mysterious and feminine despite its shapelessness. But I shook my head stubbornly.
“No,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I’m not wearing this.”
My resistance was steadfast because I couldn’t go down without a fight, I had to push back at my captor, do something to make sure I got out. But unfortunately, Miles was a sick bastard and wasn’t taking no for an answer when there was so much money on the table.
“Put it on her,” he ground out coldly and immediately hands were on me, seizing the cloth from my grasp, pinning my arms backwards so that I had no choice.
“No, stop!” I shrieked. “Stop, stop!” Hopefully someone could hear me, anyone. But no such luck. My hands were wrestled in back of me, the cape thrown over my body and the hood pulled over my head so I was shrouded in midnight blue, an enchantress in a gown, ready to take the stage.
