'Well now, ladies, gentlemen and others,' Carmen said, her voice booming over the speaker system. Somehow a microphone had appeared in her hand, but then I had been distracted for several seconds, so it almost certainly wasn't magic. 'Tonight we have several more special events and, as most of you know, our efforts here are dedicated to raising money for good causes - in this case St Beryl's Orphanage in Mattley Green. Several of you have already donated on the way in here tonight, but now we have what I'm sure will prove a most popular and profitable feature.' She paused, waved one arm for dramatic emphasis, and then pointed towards the three of us, not that she needed to draw any attention to us, as we were still the centre of attention visually.
'Friends and slaves,' she cried, 'may I present the epitome of sexual fulfilment, the answer to more than one wet dream, the Dollies Dearest!'
This time there was a concerted ovation accompanied by a variety of cheers and whoops. Behind my mask I would have grinned if I'd been able to, despite the apparent precariousness of my situation. Mask equals anonymity, bondage equals lack of responsibility, dolly equals... someone else's problem.
'Our dollies here are the ultimate love companions,' Carmen continued when the noise abated, 'and as such they are valuable commodities. Only partly trained, and that's going to be all part of the fun, I think, they are nevertheless capable of offering total satisfaction to all who need it.'
There was a ripple of laughter at this.
'And so, knowing that you're all going to be queuing for their services, we have decided the fairest way to prevent everyone getting trampled in the rush will be to auction our lovely creations. The auction will take place in three stages, each stage just over two hours after the previous, during which each of our dollies will be up for the highest bid, the highest bidder on each getting the dolly of his or her choice for one hour, the second highest getting that dolly for a further hour. After each two hours, all dollies will be auctioned again in the same way.
'As you can see, and as I have already said, we have three dollies for you this evening. Number one dolly,' she pointed to Anne-Marie, 'is called Tamsin. She used to be called something else, but I'm afraid she lost the right to that name for the rest of this event as she lost the rights to a lot of other things. As you can see, she is perfectly formed in every way, open and willing... well, I'm sure she'll be willing enough in any of your hands.'
More laughter and a ragged cheer.
'Dolly number two,' Andrea, 'is now called Poppy. She has a slightly different feature, as you can see.' Carmen paused again for the inevitable cackle of mirth to die down. 'So Poppy will obviously appeal in ways that her two sisters might not.'
'And then we come to dolly number three, who we've called Desirée, because she is most desirable. Tall, elegant, with the longest legs anyone could wish for.'
I suspected I ought to be blushing by now, but curiously I felt detached from my own persona and found I was trying to stand taller and straighter than ever.
'So now, good people, and bad, let us begin the first auction with dolly number one.'
The bidding was keen and rapid and reached sixty-five pounds in less than a minute, the lucky punter, or was it just that she had more money than some of the others, being the lady in red herself, Lady Davina, with the second bid secured by a blond-haired fellow in a black leather cat suit wearing a highwayman-style mask. Attention was then turned to Andrea and the bids once more came thick and fast. To everyone's apparent surprise, Davina was again in the thick of the action, and once more landed the bid, this time at eighty pounds, much to the chagrin of two blondes in white leather outfits who might well have been sisters, though their half-face masks made that impossible to judge with any degree of accuracy. They had to settle for second bid and second use.
Now it was my turn and I wondered if Davina might be trying for the clean sweep, but she seemed content with her first two prizes and stood back while others joined in. As before, Carmen started at twenty pounds and the early bidding was between a gangly fellow who was dressed as a sort of leather Count Dracula, complete with swirling cape and heavy face paint that made it impossible to tell what he really looked like, and a short, stocky older man who looked like a medieval executioner complete with a very realistic looking axe.
The bids went in five-pound stages until they reached fifty-five pounds, at which point an older, redheaded woman joined in and immediately raised the ante by jumping up to seventy pounds. The headsman dropped out, but his earlier competitor gamely raised his hand for seventy-five pounds, which her of the red hair immediately topped by a further ten pounds. A few heads swivelled at this, for eighty-five pounds was a considerable sum of money in nineteen seventy-five and it was obvious the bidding was some way away from finishing.
'Ninety quid!' Count Dracula called, waving a long thin arm above his head.
'One hundred,' his adversary announced in a silkily calm voice. One ten, one twenty bid with the lady with the hair and the toe-length skirts. Dracula hesitated and raised a further five. The redhead added five more. Dracula shook his head, acknowledging defeat and prepared to accept seconds, so Carmen looked around, raised her arm and prepared to sell.
'One fifty!' The powerful voice boomed over the heads of the throng, almost as loud as Carmen's amplified commentary. I didn't need to look to know who its owner was. Hercules had entered the fray and with a bid so heavy it reduced the crowd to total silence for several seconds.
'Any advance on—' Carmen began, but the redhead had reached her limit. I saw Dracula apparently considering again, obviously disappointed he had now been relegated to third place and another round of bidding later on, but apparently one hundred and fifty pounds was beyond him, or at least beyond his willingness to part with.
'Sold!' Carmen cried and there was a polite ripple of applause. The audience began to move, turning away, content to get back to whatever it was they had been doing before our entry, and to wait for the next auction session, but Davina stepped up onto the stage, nodded to Carmen and took the microphone from her.
'People,' she said, 'please remain as you are, although perhaps some of you would prefer to make yourselves more comfortable? I believe there are cushions stacked over on the side there, if any of you have slaves you would like to instruct to hand them out. As you know, I offered the top bid for the first two dollies, but not for myself or for my own gratification. As a gesture of my appreciation for all the good work that goes into arranging these functions and as a gesture of appreciation for the support you all show, our first two dollies are for your entertainment. As you can see, they are ideally suited,' Davina continued as black-clad figures moved away in the direction of the cushion pile. 'Poppy is endowed with one of the finest cocks it has ever been my privilege to see and Tamsin, well Tamsin has just the ideal places for it to go. So my friends, before our dollies go into more general action, I shall have them stage a little pleasant diversion for you all.'
The audience began to settle, those at the front squatting onto cushions, whilst further back they either knelt or stood. Meanwhile, Hercules stepped forward, looped a collar about my neck, to which was already attached a leather leash, and drew me from the stage, half lifting me down as a concession to my perilous footwear.
'We'll just watch this for a little while, dolly girl,' he whispered close by my ear. 'It won't take an hour for what I need from you, and besides, I'll have you again later, before this is all over.'
I wasn't particularly surprised at this declaration, for this anonymous giant had made no attempt to disguise his interest in me from the moment he first set eyes on me, but for now I was more interested in what Davina was planning to do with Anne-Marie and Andrea, for I was certain her scheme was going to involve something that was about to take my two friends beyond a particular boundary they had rigidly observed until now.
Not that they were actually related by blood directly, but I knew that, no matter what else they got up to between them, whether it involved othe
r parties or not, Andrea had never until now actually had sex with her mistress. It was never mentioned, but then in its own peculiar way, it didn't have to be. Anne-Marie might masturbate her transvestite slave, and Andrea might well find herself with her head buried between Anne-Marie's thighs and her tongue working overtime, but Andrea's male part had never penetrated Anne-Marie's female part and now that was about to change.
Or was it? Looking at Andrea in her Poppy guise, there was no way I could truly relate that huge, bobbing phallus with the reality of the one I had enjoyed so intimately, and neither was that swollen sex between Anne-Marie's thighs anything but a parody, although I knew from my own identical situation that anything that penetrated its opening would ultimately penetrate her as well. I wondered what was going on in their respective heads as Davina shepherded them into position. Were they both resigned to the inevitability of it all? Did Davina herself know she was overstepping an invisible boundary marker? And, if she did, did the red bitch care?
Of course, as I understood only too well, all this was now superfluous speculation. The other two 'dolls' were powerless to prevent the inevitable, unable to protest, mere puppets in this staged play and, I assumed, only too aware of the vicious looking crop Davina now grasped in her right hand. No amount of latex protection was going to prevent that wicked weapon hurting if it was laid on with anything like true intent, and I was prepared to bet Davina would be only too ready to do just that if her 'purchases' did not perform to expectation.
The performance started fairly low-key. Andrea's arms were freed and Davina encouraged her first to play with her artificial erection and then to begin stroking and caressing Anne-Marie's exterior femininity, first her jutting breasts and then her sex. Of course, as I knew only too well, Anne-Marie would feel little, if anything, of this supposed foreplay, but to the watching crowd, myself included, the scene held an erotic charge that is hard to describe. We were mesmerised by the sight of two bland-faced creatures with gaping mouths, the one doll apparently seducing the other, and all the time the promise of that gigantic erection, which seemed impossibly large to be able to fit into any normal sized bodily orifice.
And yet fit it did, and first into Anne-Marie's rounded mouth opening as she was forced to kneel before her partner, who took hold of her head at either side and meekly followed as Davina grasped the shaft and guided it into the waiting hole. For a brief instant I thought it wasn't going to work, but then I realised the outer layer of latex was soft and slightly compressible and, with Davina snapping at Andrea's buttocks with her whip as encouragement, the initial thrust buried about a quarter of the length. Raucous barracking and cheering erupted, but then just as suddenly subsided as Davina reached down and freed Anne-Marie's arms. I half expected my friend and mistress to pull back at this, but she did not.
Instead, she reached around behind Andrea, grasping her buttocks one in each hand, and began drawing her closer. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pink rubber penis continued to disappear and I felt myself starting to gag at the impossibility of what I was watching. Surely, I thought, Anne-Marie would rebel any second now, and yet she continued swallowing the great length until, in my distorted imagination, I imagined the bulbous purple head must be somewhere close to reaching her stomach.
Of course it wasn't, and neither was she really able to engulf the entire length, but she had made a brave attempt and now, as a slow handclap began, she proceeded to give her partner fellatio with a steady, insistent rhythm. Andrea, of course, or so I assumed, could feel next to nothing from all her efforts, but outwardly the scene worked. Bobbing head, staring eyes - it was at one and the same time powerfully sexual and obscenely comic.
I felt something pressing against the lower part of my face and snapped back to my own predicament. Hercules had inserted what I thought had to be two fingers into my mouth opening, and was using them to turn my head towards him. I felt leather-sheathed fingers against the tip of my tongue and let out a throaty gasp.
'Your turn soon, dolly girl,' he whispered, 'and your efforts won't be as wasted as that one's obviously are.' I felt the pressure of his other arm against my lower stomach, and as I peered downwards I guessed he was probing my outer opening with his fingers, though at this stage I could feel little beyond more exterior pressure. The artificial padded vagina was holding me open, the rigid cup preventing any stimulation of my clitoris. Anything Hercules did would do nothing for me, but then that was what Carmen had intended. I was a sex doll, and sex dolls need no gratification. Sex dolls serve only for the gratification of their owners and, for the next hour or thereabouts, Hercules was my owner and he would gratify himself without any thought for me or my feelings or needs.
And then, to my utter surprise, that thought did what he himself would not be able to do. One moment I was standing there, erect and unresponsive, the next my knees were like jelly and I fell back against him from the sheer force of the orgasm that exploded with the force of a small atom bomb in my pelvis.
'Well, fuck me sideways,' I dimly heard his voice near to my ear. 'I've bought myself a dolly with hidden extras!'
The next few hours passed as in a dream, or as though I was mostly just an observer watching proceedings from behind a smoky glass screen. I watched as the Anne-Marie doll figure was laid out on her back. I watched as the Andrea doll mounted her, guiding her massive shaft into the rubber vagina and then into her body, which could feel virtually nothing. I watched in awe as the Anne-Marie doll bucked and writhed, and then again as the Andrea doll in her turn was laid prone and the Anne-Marie doll straddled and mounted her, riding her with increasing energy until Davina finally declared the performance at an end.
Did either of the mute figures feel or experience anything from their couplings? I know whether they did or not, because they told me afterwards, but I'll leave you to guess for yourselves. For my own part, I confess, I came twice more, even though the powerful hands that cupped my bulging breasts felt as if they were distant feathers and no amount of frigging of my own rubber cunt was ever going to have any effect. It was all in my mind, all of it, reactions triggered purely by the spectacle and by something inside me I knew would always be able to rise and take control, no matter how hard I tried to fight against it or deny it. I felt, as Hercules turned me around and began leading me towards the back of the crypt, that it didn't need a rubber skin and artificial mouth and sex openings to turn me into a sex doll - I was one already, a helpless marionette dancing on the strings of abandonment to a tune that was as old as the world itself.
6.
'Understanding I think I am,' Erik said, breaking the silence that had hung between us for several minutes. He was sitting, cross-legged, by the side of the makeshift bed, while I was lying on my side, still masked, still bound, and feeling as if someone had pulled a plug somewhere and let every bit of me drain out. Erik leaned across me and gently stroked my leather-covered cheek, a curious expression on his face.
'The game you need to play and pretend that things still as they were are,' he said. 'She has you infected with her wickedness, I think.'
I grunted, shifting my position slightly and shook my head. 'No,' I said, 'Megan hasn't infected me with anything. The infection was there already. I think it's something that's in all of us, but some of us manage to resist it and keep it under control. All Megan did, if she did anything at all, was to break down my resistance, though I couldn't say for sure it might not have happened anyway.'
Erik continued to look at me without expression, but his fingers wandered all over the mask. 'This is the key?' he asked. 'Unlocking a gate it is, I think?'
'It's part of it,' I conceded. 'Behind the mask, and all that. We all wear masks of different kinds throughout our lives, I think. This just happens to be a physical mask rather than an emotional one, if you can understand that?'
He nodded gravely. 'Yes, understand that I can,' he said. He reached over and touched my bound wrists. 'Uncomfortable you must now be,' he suggested.
I grunted
again. 'But don't untie me yet,' I whispered. 'Let things stay as they are for a while longer. I need to be punished for my wickedness, I think.'
'Punished?'
'Yes.'
'Ah!'
I nodded, but turned my head sideways to avoid his unblinking scrutiny. There was another silence that lasted maybe ten seconds, and then I heard him stir. I closed my eyes, listening as I heard the rustling of straw followed by the sound of heavier items being moved. They were random sounds, as if he were searching for something. Finally, I heard him returning.
'Stand!'
I opened my eyes and turned my head back towards him. He was holding what seemed to be a length of strap in one hand, with the other hand stretched out to me. With his assistance I managed to get to my feet, and he held the strap out for me to see. It looked as though it might have been part of a harness once, the leather stiff and cracked in several places.
'For your wickedness,' he announced simply.
I nodded. 'Yes.'
Erik grasped my arm and turned me around so I was facing the doorway, and then I felt the pressure of a large hand between my shoulder blades. Suppressing a series of small tremors, I obeyed the pressure and bent forward, moving my feet further apart to maintain my balance. The hand ran down and along my back, past my bound wrists, and rested upon my right buttock. For a few seconds he stroked my taut flesh and then drew the hand back to deliver a sharp slap. I let out a small gasp, followed by a grunt as he spanked the other globe.
Teena: A House of Ill Repute Page 15