Sold!..To The Highest Bidder
Page 17
“Please, sirs, don’t do this to me. I’m a college student. My father has money. He will pay you,” she pants.
I am jealous of her; I want my turn. Even now the brunette is clinging to the bars of her cage, the knuckles white, her fine breasts pressed between the rods. I see the panic in her eyes, the fear, and the need. She prays they will not open her cage and pull her naked body out for their pleasure. The flight to the Khan’s private island is a long one, though, and I think she will not escape.
I certainly pray that I do not escape. I have learned my place. Gustav Rainier has taught me well. As for missing him, I shall hold his memory in my heart. I shall seek him in my new master, Tolliver Khan. He shall be for me every cock, every mouth that takes me. He shall be these khaki covered airplane men, too, the ones for whom I juice even now.
Smell me, I call to them in the silence of my heart. Smell my arousal and fuck me. Fulfill me. Hear my need, hear my lust. I am the best, do you hear me? Better than the prissy coed, better than the clueless brunette. I’ve been taught by the best. I bear on my soul the mark of Rainier. A Girly Girl forever.
I nearly faint now as one of them comes for me. He is brown and his hands are greasy from fixing something. He wears coveralls. A protrusion is evident at his waist. The soiled hands fidget with the lock. He’s impatient. He can’t wait to have me. I am ready and as soon as the door swings open I crawl out, pressing my mouth to his filthy leather boot.
He is not the captain, not even second or third in command but only a lowly technician. And yet he is a man, and I crave his oily hands on my flesh, squeezing my tits, clenching my buttocks, and drawing me toward him, forcing me down to sweet, mind-blowing submission.
Submission. The one drug I cannot get enough of.
“Take me,” I whisper, damning the punishment I might receive for speaking out of turn. “I am a slave, master. I am your slave.”
He grins as he hauls me to my feet. He is foreign, and I am not sure he’s understood a word I’ve said. Not that it matters. My body itself is a lingua franca, a universal symbol. My arms are slack, the chains hanging to the floor. The man’s mouth closes over my left tit and so it begins.
For even as the story of my enslavement ends, the real adventure is just beginning for me. I, Doctor Emerald Tallow, have been sold to the highest bidder, and my soul is only just awakening.
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