Angela's Trial and Tribulations

by Mark Andrews

  Mr Morris was very accommodating to this third class. They were the source of most of his income and he fostered them very carefully. Indeed it was with these men in mind that he had paid so much for Angela. He had no intention of selling her. Not yet.

  He was not going to let her go until he had an offer that was really and truly too good to refuse. In the meantime he would parade her shamelessly in front of them. Tease them with her charms and then when he rejected their offers out of hand, hopefully divert their attention to a lesser but still most attractive girl. For he took only the best. There were no slouches in his pens.

  Angela had watched as an overseer would come along and take a girl out of the cage and along to the front building. She didn’t know what for but she could guess. Sometimes the visit was short; other times it lasted hours. Talking amongst slaves was forbidden except when the premises were closed but even then it was discouraged and any raised voices merited the perpetrators a disciplinary flogging. In any case, she didn’t like to ask her neighbours what happened up there in the front building.

  After she had been there a week, she had watched as one of the floggings was administered. It had been horrible. The girl was dragged out of her cage by two burly overseers and pushed up against the pole and her arms raised while her wrists were locked into the steel manacles. Then the head overseer had taken his whip, a cat-o-nine- tails, and lashed it down her back and shoulders. He hadn’t applied it full force but it had been hard enough to make her scream out in pain. The next stroke he delivered sideways, to her buttocks. The third to the back of her thighs. After that, he lashed her in every available place before turning her around to attack her breasts, belly, thighs and even her sex which he had exposed by having his partner raise her left leg up high. She had been let down, sobbing uncontrollably, her whole body a mass of welts and bruises and then dragged back and thrown into her cage. These disciplines were administered after closing and only the very best customers were ever allowed in to witness them. William didn’t want his clients to think he had recalcitrants amongst his stock!

  Naturally, as word got around that he had a prize slave girl amongst his merchandise, those who came to look increased - as he had hoped they would. They gathered outside her cage, to the exclusion of most others and would stare in as she posed her body, flexed her lithe muscles and strutted her svelte body back and forth before them. But he steadfastly refused to allow her to be inspected more intimately. He hinted that she was far too valuable to allow such a thing.

  Eventually, some of his more wealthy clients took the bait and offered an ‘inspection fee’. He appeared reluctant still and it was doubled. But he still refused to allow her to be tested sexually. It was thus quite a few weeks before she was collected by an overseer and brought to one of the small room where clients waited. William was a most thoughtful man. He provided comfortable chairs for his clients, a coffee machine and even expensive magazines for them to peruse while they waited for the slave.

  Up in the cornice at one corner was a quite conspicuous camera. William made no secret of the fact that these inspections were all monitored and any dealing with a slave considered beyond the pale or outside what was agreed upon, resulted in a visit by the head overseer who politely escorted the man from the premises. He would not be welcome again, was the clear understanding.

  Angela took all this in as she was led into the room to stand before the man who might conceivably buy her. She was still the demure, shy girl who had faced Judge Rowbottom, the man who had shamelessly consigned her to prison so unjustly two years previously. Over two years of shame and degradation had not changed her at all. If anything, while she was internally more confident, she appeared even more the chaste, modest young girl.

  The man sat back first and drank in her beauty, her superb skin, her slim body with its clean-cut muscles and her obvious tranquillity. But then he beckoned her forward, stood up and cupped her smallish but so firm and yet soft breasts, delighting in their texture and shape. Then he ran his hands down her belly, admiring the muscles that were faint but clear enough to be easily seen. He left his right hand over her so naked mound, delighting in its warmth and the invitation its parts presented so openly, while his other hand moved around to her buttocks, slapping them lightly and admiring their firmness and resilience.

  He had been given half an hour and he used every minute of it. Afterwards he made what he considered was an outrageous offer. To his surprise - and his anger, it was rejected without even a moment’s consideration. “But you only paid...”

  “Mr Smythe, what I paid for her is of no moment. I consider her to be worth a great deal more than you have offered. Now, if you’ll excuse me...?”

  Eventually of course, as his clients offered more, he succumbed and allowed her sexual charms to be inspected. This was quite normal for his other slaves and while most men wished to try the girl out for themselves, many preferred to watch as a young man they had hired for the purpose acted out the deed while they watched. For many men, this gave them a better idea of her abilities but there were of course those who enjoyed watching quite as much or more than doing, leaving their own sexual fulfilment for later.

  William was not going to have Angela battered by countless strange men so while he eventually submitted to the idea of her performing the sexual act with others, it would be with a handsome young man he now put on his staff as an overseer. Johnny Pratt was his name. He was tall, well-built and handsome. A fact William had ascertained for himself before hiring the boy. “Please don’t misunderstand me, Johnny, but if I hire you, you will have to perform naked. A pleasing body as well as sexual ability is therefore essential. I shall wish to see you stripped and of course doing your stuff.”

  The young man had grinned. “Of course, sir. D’you want me to strip off now?” William had nodded. He hadn’t mentioned that he was bisexual and while he normally restricted himself to his slave girls, he nevertheless found the bodies of many young men very attractive. This boy was particularly good-looking and he inwardly drooled at the thought that the boy was going to strip naked in front of him, just as a newly made slave girl had to.

  Johnny was quite uninhibited... Just as well, William thought. If he was in any way modest about his body and particularly his sexual organs, he would be of little use to him. As he watched him strip, William was hard put not to blush. The boy was slim but so beautifully athletic! And he was almost completely hairless. William didn’t like hair either on girls or boys and he had an idea to achieve this. “A beautiful body, boy,” he said at last as Johnny stood totally naked before him. “Can you er, erect that?”

  “Sure thing, sir,” and grinning across at the man he hoped would today become his boss, he took it in hand and soon had it hard.

  “Pity about the pubic hair, boy,” said Mr Morris slowly, staring down at the luxurious growth about the boy’s genitals.

  “Um, er, you don’t you like it, sir?”

  “It’s not that I don’t like it,” William lied, “it’s that it will inhibit our clients view of what they came to see...”

  “I could shave it off, sir.”

  “Better to have it done properly, by a professional, boy. If you’re prepared to undertake that, and I will meet the cost and make the booking for you, then you’re hired.” Johnny had looked down on his pubic hair sadly. He had been proud of what he considered an element of his manhood but he wanted this job. The idea of fucking for a living had really turned him on. And after all, what were a few hairs...? “I’m your man, sir.”

  Angela’s first inspection under this new regime was before a fat, red-faced man named William Bunter. He sat in the chair with his great belly poking out in front of him and eyed her up and down lecherously. His hands were pudgy and she hated them feeling and fondling her flesh. She hoped she was not going to be sold to this man. She was surprised though when after only a few minutes he pressed the bell.
Usually these inspections had gone on for half an hour. The door opened and a young man came in. She knew him. He was the new overseer. Johnny Pratt was his name. Sir to her, of course.

  “All right, boy, do your stuff,” said Mr Bunter, and to her amazement, the young overseer began to undress. She watched carefully as he removed his shirt, revealing a most pleasing torso whose muscles were clean and whose skin was as smooth and clear as her own. Then he kicked off his shoes and dropped his trousers. She stared down at his groin. While she expected to see all her fellow slave girls nude of hair all over their bodies, she had never seen a man like that. She thought he looked better without all that hair and it certainly made his genitals very prominent.

  His boss thought the same as he sat at his desk and stared at the monitor, his own cock hard and demanding attention.

  “Over here, girl,” said Johnny, pointing to the small padded rutting bench William had provided in each of these inspection rooms. Understanding dawned and she nodded, showing neither approval or disapproval on her serene face. She laid her body down on the bench and spread her legs. The now naked young overseer mounted her without as much as a glance at the red-faced fat man in the chair and began fucking her.

  William Morris had spent many hours tutoring him in this regard. First because the boy had been quite uncouth in his love-making skills but even more importantly, because he delighted in having him naked in his presence and even more so rutting with the beautiful slave girl he had chosen as this day’s subject. To watch as his pert buttocks clenched and softened with each thrust; as his back muscles rippled and his great cock ploughed in and out of her naked vagina was a real thrill.

  By now Johnny knew how to put on a real performance and he moved with grace and beauty. His boss had told him that many men would be admiring his body nearly as much as that of the girl and that he was to play up to them if this appeared so. This gross, red-faced man, was one such and Johnny contrived to flex his muscles as he moved over to the bench. Angela watched him with amusement. She knew precisely what he was doing and she thought it quite comical. Of course she hid these feelings. To have shown them openly might well have earned her a session at the whipping post.

  She was please Johnny knew his stuff though. By now she had had many lovers and had become quite skilled at judging their ability. Johnny was good and he very soon had her up near her first climax. She squirmed her body under his and clawed at his back and buttocks with her fingers, not because she wanted to but because she knew it was expected that she show how lusty and how wanton she was as a sex-slut.

  Chapter 8

  Johnny had, under Mr Morris’ tutelage, learned to hold back his own climax and he paced himself, bringing her to six orgasms before his own. There was a clock on the wall and he managed it perfectly, timing his somewhat exaggerated climax to the hour. Morris had extended the sessions to an hour so that potential purchasers might see what wonderful sexual endurance she had. When it was over he rose up off the girl and stood beside her, grinning sheepishly as the fat man praised his efforts. He was dismissed and he took Angela with him.

  “Good girl,” he whispered to her as they strode along the corridor and out into the courtyard.

  “You were good too, sir,” she whispered back.

  “Thanks,” he said dryly but grinned appreciatively at her.

  She had many such sessions before all kinds. Some young and good-looking, others old and fat as William Bunter had been. All made offers for her and these were becoming quite outrageous now. Angela wasn’t aware of her own value but even if she had been, it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference to her. She was still the demure and innocent but so beautiful girl she had been nearly three years earlier.

  She was still kept in her own cage and every day hundreds of men came to stand up on the roof and stare down at her lithe, so athletic body as she exercised under the direction of the overseer in charge of physical development of the slave girls. Then, after being hosed down to rinse of the sweat of that session, she had to stand up near the bars of her cage and pose and strut her body while dozens of other men pushed and shoved to get a better position. She maintained that Mona Lisa smile throughout and more and more of these men demanded a session with her and Johnny Pratt performing. This came to be a most lucrative source of income for Dealer Morris but he knew that soon he was going to have to sell her. The pressures were becoming too great and in the end they might militate against him, working to the opposite of what he had aimed for. His customers would fall away in disgust when they realised he had been baiting them with her body.

  He eventually decided to auction her.

  This was not his usual way of selling. He far preferred to deal personally with his buyers, judging what he thought they could (and would) pay for a particular girl and he was very skilled at it. But with Angela, he thought an auction would satisfy all the many clients who had made an offer on her as well as bringing in hundreds of others who might conceivably buy a lesser girl afterwards.

  He prepared things carefully. Every detail was given his personal and full attention. Seating, decorations, refreshment. Advertisements, TV interviews, entertaining reporters... All were attended to and ticked off in his mind as he made decisions on them and then fulfilled them.

  He would make a killing here but only if he played his cards right.

  Angela was displayed on a four foot high white marble column. This was topped by a Corinthian capital and he had schooled her in various poses she was to adopt during the course of the sale and before. Venus de Milo was one of these but there were others. And in between the studied poses, she was to move her stark naked body sinuously.

  He crammed as many seats into the courtyard as would fit comfortably and he had hired waiters to move among them, serving wine and savouries. There was also space at the back for more spectators.

  For those whom he expected would bid, he had allocated seats near the front. For the rest, apart from a few other favoured clients, it was first in best dressed. The seats were all occupied well before the event was scheduled to start at ten in the morning and the space at the back was also crowded solid. Mr Morris was well pleased. He expected to make three to four hundred thousand on this girl.

  She was already on the column, having been placed there by means of a step-ladder before the gates were opened. It was a good idea to give them all as much of a view of her as possible. Stir up their passions at the sight of her naked loveliness; generate in them a wish to bid on her body... She had already adopted two of the poses he had trained her in and she smiled down at the sea of faces before her. He mounted the podium precisely at ten and smiling broadly, held up his hands when the clapping began. “Gentlemen, welcome to this first auction to be held at my premises. As you well know, I do not usually favour the auction as a medium of sale, preferring to deal with you all on a personal basis. But in this case, since so many of you wish to purchase the girl, I have decided that this is the only way to satisfy you all fairly...” He omitted to mention it was also the way by which he would make most money.

  “I do not need to extol her beauty or her nature. Both are well known to you all. The one you can see before you ...” He paused as she began to move (on cue) to show off all her naked charms to their greedy eyes. “... and the other I am sure you have heard of by word of mouth.” Again he paused, letting her slow and sensuous movements speak for themselves.

  Then he invited offers. “Shall we start at, say, two hundred thousand?”

  The bids came fast. They rose in increments of ten thousand and William smiled as he acknowledged each one in turn, his writers noting the name of every bidder and his bid. Angela did her bit of course. She had always been obedient and now was no exception. She posed her body, thrusting out her breasts, lifting a leg to expose her vagina better, wiggle her hips seductively and smiled down at the audience. Some of these she knew - intimately, having felt
their coarse hands ranging all over her body. Most she didn’t. To her the sea of faces seated in front of her and even more so, those who formed the press of the crowd at the back, were just that: one enormous crowd. She found it better not to try to identify faces. Somehow it was less shameful...

  For she was shamed. Even though she had had to pull gigs through public streets for James and Alex, and been subject to stares and ribald comments by many men, that had been nothing to this. Here, hundreds of lecherous males were doing nothing but stare up at her so nude body. Once more she felt humiliated by the absence of her pubic hair which had at least partially hidden her sex from view.

  The bids continued to come but then, as the figure reached four hundred thousand, they slowed and then stopped altogether at four hundred and ten. Angela was appalled.

  The bidder was that red-faced, gross man, William Bunter. The idea of being available to this man on a daily basis was horrible.

  “Going once... Going twice...”

  “Five hundred thousand,” came a muffled voice from the back of the crowd.

  Morris didn’t hesitate. “Sold to the gentleman in the back for half a million dollars!” he said, triumphantly after making sure his writer had the man’s name.

  The crowd dissipated quickly and Mr Morris hurried up to the office to consummate the deal. Johnny Pratt was left to get her down and take her back to her cage. “Half a million, eh, Angela? That’s a record and a half!”

  “Is it, sir?” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it. “What’s this then?” he asked but he knew, really.

  “Just to thank you for being so nice to me up there,” and she nodded up to the main building... “Who is he, sir?” she asked then.