by Sarah Fisher
In one corner a large man dressed in no more than leather cuffs and a thong was juggling melons, while alongside him a naked female contortionist, collared and at the end of a fine silver chain, had the undivided attention of at least a couple of dozen men. On a stage three male slaves had weights attached to their balls and a man was taking bets on who would last the longest before calling enough.
They walked slowly along rows of human exhibits, until they finally got to an area that Maggie began to realise was for sale lots.
Eventually it seemed they had reached their destination, where stood a row of women chained to blocks, dressed much as she was in some nominal garment that barely covered their bodies. They were of all sizes and ages, the only common denominator that they all wore collars and were chained to the little dais upon which they stood.
Max led Maggie to an empty dais at the end of the row, and she began to tremble as several of the browsing masters, each with a catalogue in hand, turned their attentions to her.
Max snapped her lead into a ring on the surface of the low dais. ‘Don’t panic,’ he told her. ‘I won’t leave you and I’ll be here tonight if you need me.’ Maggie suddenly felt sick and faint. Although she wanted more than anything to please him and show him she was a good slave, this was almost more than she could bear. Her loyalty was to him, and she couldn’t imagine being with any of the others who approached the dais and looked her over like prime horseflesh. Would one of these men be her eventual keeper?
‘Very nice,’ said one of them to Max. ‘May I?’
Max lifted a hand in a gesture of invitation. ‘You know the rules, Rupert,’ he said warmly. ‘You may touch but no more. If you would like more then you must register your request with the auctioneer.’
Maggie watched the men come and go from lowered eyes. It seemed they were allowed to inspect her, ask her to turn this way and that, look and carry out a perfunctory inspection, but no more. Max answered what questions they asked, although she guessed that as soon as he felt she was settled he would leave her to her own devices to go and look at what else was on offer.
And she was right, for eventually he nodded and made his way back into the crowd.
Alone and unguarded Maggie kept her eyes demurely downcast, trying hard not to attract attention to herself. She heard one of the men explaining to his companion that if a would-be purchaser wished for more access to any of the lots then their name was added to a list under the lot number. Then the auctioneer decided who got what for the night and whether such an encounter was public or private.
Maggie had finally begun to settle a little when a group of men came in through the double door. They made a noisy entrance, at odds with the polite hum and murmur of conversation that filled the hall. The noise made everyone look up, and instantly Maggie realised with horror that amongst the new arrivals was none other than Simon Faraday!
She immediately dropped her gaze again as she saw him scanning the room, wishing she could make herself invisible. This couldn’t be happening. There had to be a mistake. Maybe it was someone who closely resembled him.
She peeped again and then quickly down. No, there was no mistake. It was most definitely Simon Faraday. How on earth could he be there? How was it possible? Simon Faraday showing up was the most unbelievable and worst thing that could possibly happen.
To her horror he caught sight of her, his eyes widening momentarily, and then he smiled triumphantly and sauntered over. He didn’t speak, not a word, but instead he arrogantly looked her up and down.
Casually he cast his eye down at the list of bids, marked something on the sheet and then moved away without so much as a word or a backward glance. Maggie shuddered, instinctively aware that there was no way this would be the end of it.
A little while later a man dressed in dark green livery came up to the block. He had a chain fastened to his waist on which hung a large key ring, weighed down with dozens of keys, one of which Maggie assumed would open the lock that attached her lead to the plinth.
‘You’ve been selected by one of our patrons to keep him company for the night,’ he said as he bent to unlock her, then straightened up, his eyes greedily devouring her vulnerable beauty.
Maggie suspected that he had his fair share of the goods on show when the masters and mistresses weren’t looking. She bit her lip anxiously and glanced around the room, searching for Max, trying to guess who’d had enough influence to secure her already. She had assumed the decisions were made at the end of the day.
He jerked the leash and pulled her down to his level. ‘Maybe I’ll try you out myself,’ he hissed, ‘when the master has done with you.’
Maggie shuddered as he slid a cold hand over her thigh and cupped her sex. ‘Nice tight arse, nice tight cunt, that’s what it says in your auction notes,’ he leered, licking his lips. ‘Wouldn’t mind trying you out for myself…’
Before she could react he clipped a pair of handcuffs on her, then against a backdrop of appreciative looks and comments he led her through the crowd. She reddened, trying hard to block out the crude comments and avaricious stares. It seemed that everyone knew where she was destined, if not with whom. As they reached the doorway she looked around again, frantically trying to spot Max amongst the sea of faces. Did he know she was being taken away? Had he given his permission? Her stomach tightened into a tangled knot of disquiet.
The man led her upstairs, keeping ahead of her so that the lead stayed taut between them. On one of the landings he knocked on an ornate door, and waited for permission to enter.
‘Come in,’ called a muffled voice, and Maggie took a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. Oddly enough, in some ways it reminded her of her first encounter with Max. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all…
‘Well, well, just look who we have here,’ gloated a familiar voice, and Maggie froze in horror, her worst fears - the ones she’d been trying hard to suppress - confirmed. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’
Simon Faraday was lounging on a leather sofa, a glass of wine in his hand. Another man stood by the fireplace leering at her, both of them looking the worse for drink.
Simon beckoned her closer. ‘I genuinely had no idea until I saw you up on the dais that you were involved in our little club,’ he said. ‘I must be slipping. I knew Max had a new slave in his stable, but I had no idea it could be you. Small world, isn’t it, eh Maggie?’
Maggie kept her eyes firmly fixed to the floor as the man who’d delivered her to the suite unlocked her wrists and tucked the lead between her lips.
‘Nothing to say for yourself?’ Simon taunted. ‘My, my, my, isn’t that something? I think this is the quietest I’ve ever known you. Now strip, I want to see again what’s on offer. One fumbled fuck on the bathroom floor hardly counts as a fair appraisal.’
Maggie was quite unable to move, and then she heard another familiar voice. ‘You know better than to behave like this, young lady,’ said Max Jordan, and she glanced round in astonishment to see him sitting in the window seat sipping a glass of champagne. She almost cried with relief, even though his expression was stern. ‘Don’t keep my associate waiting.’
Reluctantly, feeling somewhat betrayed, she unfastened the suspenders from the stockings and peeled down the corset. Simon nodded his approval, indicated she should turn around, and Maggie did so, aware of his eyes crawling over her flesh.
Putting down his wine, rising and stepping closer, he smiled. Maggie waited, and then without warning he reached out and snagged his fingers in her hair, pulling her close, kissing her aggressively. ‘I’m going to make you wish you’d been more cooperative with me,’ he threatened ominously. ‘We all know that Max spends a long time getting the best out of his girls, a mixture of cruelty and kindness pushing the limits. Let’s see just how far you’ve come, shall we? And if you’re really lucky, well, who knows what tomorrow might bring? I could do with a new slave.’
He sniggered and dragged her through into the adjoining bedroom, where he threw her
on the bed, slightly knocking the wind out of her. His silent companion followed them in and closed the bedroom door, separating her from Max.
She gasped for breath. ‘Don’t hurt me, Simon,’ she pleaded miserably. ‘I’ll do whatever you want, I promise.’
‘Oh, I know you will, it’s just a shame you didn’t think of that earlier.’ He grabbed her breasts, squeezing them tight until she gasped with pain. A part of her believed that any moment now Max would come in and rescue, but realistically she knew he wouldn’t. But nevertheless his presence meant that Simon wouldn’t go too far, she was sure of that, and retribution would be milder than he might inflict if left to his own devices.
‘Get on the bed and lie on your front,’ he ordered. ‘I’m going to show you just who is the real master around here.’
She did as she was told, trembling as Simon and his unknown friend bound her hand and foot, tying her down spread-eagled on the brocade quilt. Then Maggie heard something cut the air and screamed in shock as a cat-o’-nine tails exploded across her buttocks.
‘Shall I gag her?’ asked his companion, his tone sinister.
‘No, no,’ Simon stopped him. ‘I like to hear her scream.’
Maggie’s body convulsed as he struck again, the spiteful leather fronds wrapping around the soft flesh of her thighs and flanks. There was no mercy and she cried out again and again as the cat found its mark. At last he was done and untied her, pulled her up onto all fours and without ceremony fed his throbbing cock deep into her cunt; an act of glorious conquest.
Maggie was too tired and too shocked to resist him. He pulled her back against his groin, thrusting deeper and deeper, and then he bucked twice and filled her with his seed. Then rolling to the side onto his back pulled her down to him, smiling as he stroked her hair away from her tearstained face.
‘I think my friend has need of you now,’ he said. ‘And then I’m going to roll you over and lick your little cunt until you scream for me to stop. You need to get used to my friend and the things we both like. I intend to bid for you at the auction, so just think, by this time tomorrow you could be all mine.’
As Maggie tried to absorb the enormity of what she’d been fearful of hearing, she felt the other man clamber onto the bed behind her. He slipped his fingers into her wet sex, and then smeared Simon’s sperm and her juices up over the tightly puckered closure of her bottom, and she gasped as he probed with his cock and eased it into her tight rear passage.
Beneath her Simon smiled victoriously, and then got up onto his knees, and holding the back of her head he pressed his flaccid cock to her mouth. ‘I want you to clean me up now, bitch,’ he ordered. ‘Just like Max taught you. Suck me, and who knows, by the time my friend here is finished with you I might be ready to fuck you again myself.
Chapter Thirteen
When Simon and his quiet friend were done with Maggie, Max Jordan clipped her lead on and took her back to his suite. Although she was sore and tired, as soon as the doors were closed behind them she felt the tension easing, but it seemed her ordeal was not quite over.
Max slid his belt from the loops of his trousers. ‘I’m very disappointed with you, Maggie,’ he said, folding the belt in two.
She was about to protest, but knew it was pointless and would make things worse, not better.
‘I thought you understood the first rule a good slave learns is total obedience?’
She nodded, but he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so that he was looking deep into her eyes. ‘It’s not good enough, my dear. You know better than to nod. What is the first rule a good slave learns?’
‘Obedience, master,’ she said, gasping as he jerked her head back further still.
‘And trust? Haven’t I told you that I will always look after you?’
‘But what if Simon buys me at auction tomorrow?’ she protested, oblivious now of the punishment she might incur for speaking without permission.
Max snorted and shook his head. ‘Relax, Maggie, Simon isn’t the only one with friends in high places.’
‘But he managed to get me taken to his room tonight.’
Max smiled knowingly. ‘Indeed he did, my dear. And how do you think he did that?’
Her eyes widened in terrible comprehension. ‘You?’ she gasped. ‘You arranged for Simon to have me?’ If this had been a test then Maggie knew she had failed miserably. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered meekly.
‘You know that slaves aren’t allowed to be sorry; it implies they have self-will. So now you have to beg forgiveness, young lady.’
She looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. ‘Please, master,’ she whispered, ‘forgive me, please.’
Max stroked her face. ‘You are very special to me, Maggie, but you know the rules. Get on your hands and knees.’
She did, trembling furiously, but even so she had a sense of relief; with Max she did understand the rules, she knew exactly what was expected and against all the odds she did trust him implicitly - it was the rest of the world she doubted.
Max ran a hand over her bottom as if to settle her. Then Maggie heard the belt cutting through the still air, heard the gasp, felt the red-hot glow of pain as it spread through her body, fused with the sense of well-being, of coming home, of being safe.
The belt found the mark again, this time she shrieked and as she did Max hit her harder and then harder still, on and on until she was lost in the overpowering sensations.
When he was done Maggie heard the belt drop to the floor, heard the sound of his zipper and an instant later the drive of his raging cock sinking into her sex, and then she cried out in a mixture of discomfort and pleasure as he pressed fully into her. She threw back her head and cried out his name, sobbing with pure delight as he drove into her again and again.
While Max fucked her, cruelly forcing his cock deeper and deeper into her cunt, Maggie moved with him, hungrily desperately. For all the world it felt to her as if he was claiming back what, at least until tomorrow, was his.
Hours later Maggie woke in Max’s bed, curled up in his arms, his hand cupping her breast, his breath warm and reassuring on the back of her neck. For a moment or two she felt at perfect peace, until her mind cleared and she realised that today was the day of the auction.
What if Max was wrong? What if Simon somehow managed to buy her after all? What if some unknown buyer stepped in? What would her life become without Max Jordan?
She closed her eyes, praying for sleep to reclaim her but her stirring had disturbed Max. For the last time she turned slowly in his arms and wriggled down the bed, he turned sleepily to allow her to move and then gently she drew his flaccid cock into her mouth.
It was bliss, he was soft and warm, the skin of his sleeping cock like silk against her tongue and yet still with the promise of more. Slowly, very slowly he began to harden at the same time as stirring into wakefulness. Max moaned with pleasure as she stoked his balls, paying special attention to the sensitive area between them and his anus. He murmured, opening his legs to give her greater access. Eagerly she licked up over his shaft, and when he was powerfully rigid she eased onto her side, pulled one leg up, and still warm from sleep and barely conscious he guided his cock into her from behind, her body opening to him like a blossoming flower.
He thrust deeper, groaning softly as her body welcomed him. ‘That feels good,’ he whispered, voice still thick with sleep. ‘I’m going to miss you, Maggie,’ he mumbled, and inched deeper still. Maggie shivered as he pulled her hips back to him, his desire increasing with consciousness. As he began to find his rhythm she struggled to hold back the tears. After a few moments he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, still joined, so that she was on her back, lying on him. ‘Touch yourself, Maggie,’ he whispered, moving her fingers over her clit while still easing in and out of her.
Her body hummed as her fingers echoed in time with the rhythm of his thrusts. She began to gasp for breath, feeling her sex tighten around his thick shaft, driving them both forward
into oblivion.
A while later, showered and perfumed and exquisitely made-up, Maggie followed Max down into to the ballroom, dressed in a black silk basque, seamed black silk stockings and high heels. The basque, a final present from Max, emphasised her narrow waist and rounded hips, the suspenders framing her naked sex. She knew it was a look he favoured.
Max walked slowly down the stairs and into the melee in the large room, letting the gathered purchasers take a long hard look at his prize possession. Maggie kept her eyes down at the floor as they made their way amongst them, three paces behind him wearing her collar and leash. He led her backstage where a line of girls was already waiting in silence, their eyes wide with trepidation and nerves.
Max smiled and stroked her cheek. ‘If ever you need me,’ he said, ‘simply give me a ring. You still have the mobile I gave you?’
Maggie nodded, unable to find the words she longed to say.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Well, in that case I have to leave you now.’
‘Leave?’ she echoed timorously, and as she spoke the man who’d delivered her to Simon the day before pulled her into line, unfastened her collar and handed it back to Max. ‘W-what do you mean, leave?’ she stammered as the man slipped another plain leather band around her throat. ‘You didn’t say anything about leaving.’
‘You really must learn to be quiet, Maggie, it’s going to get you into so much trouble,’ Max said, taking the collar the old man offered him. ‘I’ve business to see to back in town. But don’t worry, Guido will be here to keep an eye on you.’
Guido? Maggie felt faint. ‘But…’ she began, and then stopped. What was there left to say? He kissed her cheek, the kiss as chaste as one given by an ageing uncle to a favourite niece. ‘Good luck, my little one,’ he said. ‘Ring me if you need to.’
At least he didn’t say goodbye, but Max Jordan turned and was gone. Maggie felt terribly alone, but immediately the man handcuffed her hands behind her back, and before she could protest he dragged her across the stage and added her to the line of girls waiting to be led to the block. At the head of the queue were two tall blonde women, dressed in black studded leather bra and shorts, and who led each lot out onto the stage to the auction proper. As the curtain rose and fell Maggie caught a glimpse of the buyers standing in the main hall.