The Halloween Auction by Joe Doe, Part 1

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Every year the Lone Star Club, known locally as “The Billionaire’s Boys Club”, held a Halloween Party that raised serious $$$ for MAKE A WISH. Tickets were $5,000 each, and the 300 paying guests were mixed in with a variety of local celebrities, movie stars, and people who were so rich they were effectively movie stars themselves. Sure, the tickets were expensive, at least to people to whom money still mattered, but it was for the kids, after all. Even if you didn’t care about Halloween or kids or charity, the chance to rub shoulders with Elon and Matthew and hear old Lyle or Selma join the band and croon a few songs made the invitation-only event the most coveted ticket in Dallas.

Although Halloween was tangential to the chance to mingle with the famous who longed for riches and the rich who longed for fame, the Halloween Costume Contest had become, over the years, core to the event. As the party was frequented by the truly beautiful, “Best Costume”, over time, had evolved into “Sexiest Costume”, and even finishing in the top 10 gave you bragging rights for years to come. Sadie had taken down the Picasso in the foyer of her mansion to put up her orange pumpkin trophy. Carmen took her 7th place trophy to the gym of her private club each day, using it as inspiration to work on toning her body for next year’s competition.

There wasn’t an age limit, but unless you were at least 18 and blazing hot, it was silly to even humiliate yourself by trying. Last year’s winner had actually been Sandra, who at 42 could still rock her daughter’s High School uniform (with the hem taken up and the shirt knotted in front, of course). Blowing bubble all night and flirting with the men (“You’re not going to spank me, are you?”) certainly helped when the voting came.

Katie was hosting this year’s party at her mansion, which gave her the homefield advantage. Katie was married to a filthy rich oil baron named Howard. As the party was taking place in his Greek Revival mansion, Katie had the genius stroke of dressing herself as a Greek slave girl, with a rag tied around her hips and a ragged bikini top that were glued on but always looked as if they were going to fall off.

Howard had married Katie after his first wife had died, and she had spent a fortune redecorating the mansion in a classical Greek style. Howard had money to burn, and didn’t really care, as Katie was impossibly hot in bed. He didn’t totally approve of the way that Katie and her daughter from her first marriage, the equally attractive Suzie, sometimes bullied his son Jed. But he was worried that Jed had grown up a bit spoiled and knew that because he had control of the purse strings it would be easy enough to turn the tables when the moment came.

Katie was a little annoyed that her daughter Suzie looked so sexy in her Dallas Cowboy’s Cheerleader costume, but knew in her heart that even her perfect body wouldn’t make up the uninspired nature of her costume. Every year brought out at least 10 cheerleaders, which Suzie was blissfully unaware of since she had just turned 18 and this was her first year at the party. Oh, well, Suzie would learn!

When Taylor arrived wearing a bathrobe, Katie had laughed out loud. Taylor’s sexy pirate wench costume had actually earned her a 3rd place finish last year, which totally pissed off Katie as she KNEW she was way hotter. Still, Katie was afraid that Taylor might be up to something, although when she overheard Taylor explaining that the blue and white bathrobe was a tribute to the MAKE A WISH colors, she relaxed a little. “It’s for the kids,” Taylor explained.

It wasn’t until the text message came through on the phone announcing that it was time to vote for best costume that Taylor’s strategy – along with everything else – was revealed. When Taylor handed her robe to Jemima, Katie’s black maid, a wave of shock rolled over the attendees. Taylor was 100% naked.

Well, Taylor was wearing sandals, and a rather fake looking pink collar. But otherwise, she was 100%, birthday bare NAKED.

“I’m a slave girl!” she announced proudly.

Taylor’s husband beamed proudly as the men began to type her name into the phone. There was no question Taylor was going to win first place. But was anyone else going to win second?

“Hold my FUCKING beer,” Katie said. Flinging off her pirate hat, Katie began to unbutton her pirate wench top.

“But Katie,” Howard said, in a voice equally turned on, amazed, and horrified. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s for the kids,” she replied. “Stay out of this, Howard. I WILL win first place, because I’m hotter than Taylor. Jemima, fetch the box out of my son’s room. You know the one I mean.”

Jemima was 60 and weighed at least 300 pounds, but she could barely contain her joy as she did a little dance, then chugged up the circular stairwell to retrieve the box. Yes, she knew the box her white lady mistress wanted, and it delighted her old bones to get it for her.

Howard took a sip of his drink as he watched his wife undress. She was quite vain, and a bit bossy, and often dismissed his suggestions. Howard could see she was nervous and blushing as she undressed for her friends, although with that body she had nothing to be ashamed of. Howard was delighted to show the other men exactly how hot his age-appropriate wife really was. He also wasn’t entirely displeased to see his wife work herself into a predicament that might actually cost her something, if only humiliation. She had told him to stay out of it, and he was quite curious to see how this might develop.

Katie was surprised at how cold the marble floor of her rotunda was when took off her shoes. It was her house, but she had certainly never walked through her grand entry hallway barefoot. Katie covered herself with her arm as she unhooked her bra, and stood before the room wearing nothing but her lacy red pirate panties. It was movie star Matthew who started the chant, “Pants off! Pants off! Pants off!”

Soon, everyone had joined in on the wicked chant, except her husband, of course, who looked a bit nervous. Then, finally, he joined in, too.

Katie knew she was defeated. Knowing that there was no way to back out now, Katie removed her panties to much raucous cheering, just as Jemima returned holding the large box.

Katie looked into the box searching for the nicest collar, but they all looked about the same. There were a bunch of zip ties, too, and some vibrators, but that wasn’t of much interest to her. She wanted the best, sexiest collar. After rummaging about for a moment, she held up a shiny black steel collar with the lasso “D” logo of The Big D engraved on the side in gold lettering.

“As some of you know, my stepson Jed works at The Big D, and he brought these home to fix them. This is an AUTHENTIC slave collar, unlike Taylor’s, which I’m guessing she bought at the dollar store.”

Ignoring her simp husband, Katie walked right up to movie star Matthew. She had always had a crush on him, and he looked great in his tux.

Winking, Katie gave him a slow turn. “Do I please, Master?”

Matthew gave out a slow wolf whistle, before responding in his lackadaisical trademark drawl. “Yer’ sweeter than sweet tea, and fine as one of my mama’s buttermilk biscuits. You sure do look like slave tail to me, and hot slave tail at that. Y’all get my vote.”

Grinning broadly, Katie handed him The Big D collar. She knelt before him, knees spread wide. Scooping up her hair she extended her neck out, as if offering it for the executioner’s axe. “I beg for your collar, Master!” she said.

She felt the Hollywood erection press against her face as he CLICKED the collar shut.

Everyone applauded, except Taylor, who was royally pissed off. Storming across the room, she grabbed a collar out of the box, and headed straight toward Elon. Kneeling before him, she scooped up her long blond hair, and offered him her slender neck. “Collar me, Master,” she said.

Elon sounded unimpressed. “Sound more like an order than a plea,” he said. “Take off those sandals. I want you slave naked.”

Taylor obeyed, and Jemima quickly took the sandals away. Stripping fancy white ladies slave naked was FUN.

Like Katie, Taylor was surprised to learn that genuine Italian marble floors felt cold on bare skin. It was a relief to kneel down before Elon again, and shift the cold away from the soles of her feet.

“I’ll expect a slave kiss later, in return for your collaring,” Elon said.

There was quite a bit of male laughter at this, although Taylor did not look up, and kept her eyes on Elon’s shiny, tasseled shoes. “Yes, Master,” she said meekly, a thrill of powerlessness rushing through her.

Elon collared her, to thunderous applause.

Taylor’s moment of triumph was cut short as across the room, Dakota slipped the straps of her red dress off her shoulders and let the designer gown fall to the floor. She didn’t have to do it, of course. She was a genuine movie star, after all, and hadn’t even planned on competing in the costume contest. But as she had been in THAT movie, could she really resist this chance to play slave girl for an evening?

The crowd’s shock only lasted for a moment though, and soon they were calling out.

“Titties!”
“Titties!”
“Titties!”

Dakota was shocked that the men who had been fawning over her and begging for a selfie were now openly leering at her as they demanded to see her tits. What was more surprising, the women, glad to see a rival or maybe a celebrity taken down a peg, had joined in.

Dakota tried to be a good sport as she surrendered her bra to Jemima’s eager fingers, taking a little bow as the crowd cheered the unveiling of her boobs. But the crowd was not to be satisfied, and soon began a new clap-along-chant.

“PUSS-SY”
“PUSS-SY”
“PUSS-SY”

Dakota was having an out of body experience. She was a MOVIE STAR, and they were treating her like a stripper. No, more like a real slave!

Alas, she was not even that lofty. Jemima’s matronly hand, delivering a sharp, crisp SPANK across her panties, informed her in no uncertain terms that she had lost her movie star status. “Come on, white girl, get that beaver blanket off and show these rich men what they wanna to see. Can’t have no slave girls runnin’ round with no pants on!”

Dakota swallowed hard. Could she really strip slave naked, in front of everyone? Yes, she could. After all, it was for the kids.

Dakota was surprised at how the marble seemed to suck all the heat out of her as she kicked off her shoes and lowered her panties to her ankles.

“Hand ‘em over, Princess,” Jemima said. “Slave girls don’t get to wear no fancy pants!”

Dakota surrendered her panties to Jemima, who used a zip tie from the box to keep the uppity star from hiding “what everybody wanna see,” as Jemima put it. By the time Suzie was stripping off her cheerleading outfit (to much cheering and chanting from the crowd), Jemima had already zipped Taylor’s (and to her delight) her white boss lady’s slender wrists behind their backs.

Katie had thought her husband Howard would intervene on her behalf, or on his step daughter’s behalf, at least, but he seemed to have gotten used to the idea of Katie being a naked slave girl, and was staring at Selina and loudly discussing whether “we needed another famous girl naked”, while the singer blushed.

When Jed came in the door, exhausted at a long day at The Big D, he was shocked to discover his stepmother, stepsister, a number of impossibly hot female celebrities, and 60 of his mom’s hottest friends, naked, collared, and with their hands zipped behind their back. But it was the conversation between the men that really caught his attention.

A confused Jed looked to his father for some sort of explanation. But Howard simply smiled, and hoisted his drink, signaling his son to enjoy the moment.

“We should hold an auction.”

“Yes, a slave auction.”

“Pretend?”

“No, for real. And you can’t bid on your wife.”

“Yeah, having to buy your wife will make it fucking lame. Besides, I want to fuck YOUR wife, George.”

“How long of a term?”
“Let’s do it for real.”

“You mean, like binding?”

“Yeah, binding. Like real slave girls. That will get the bids up.”

“Let’s do it. For the kids.”

“Yeah, for the kids.”

“What if I want my wife back?”

“You make a deal with the guy who bought her. We’re all gentlemen here. Once the party is over, each husband reclaims her wife for top bid plus 20 percent...after a reasonable amount of time. We don’t want to break up any HAPPY marriages.”

“Wish I knew what one of those was.”

“Yeah, so all the men agree they’ll make a deal, if the husband wants, but only after we get in some real good fucking, first.”

“How long?”

“Gentleman, let’s not quibble. We’re all gentlemen here. We can work out the details later.”

“Yes, exactly. Remember: it’s for the kids.”

“Exactly. It’s for the kids. Who can object to a charity auction for such a worthy cause?”

“Is this legal?”

“What do you say, Sam? You get paid $1,000 an hour for opinions like this one.”

“They’re naked, and they collared themselves. They want to win the trophy, right?”

“Let’s vote with our wallets.”

“So, they’re slaves?”

“They will be when the gavel falls, and title passes.”

“Who’s going to auction them?”

“I dunno. I could do it, I guess.”
“No offense, Clarence, but you’re an oil man, not an auctioneer.”

“We should have a real auctioneer.”

“Definitely. A licensed auctioneer. I mean, if you’re going to do paperwork & make it all legal.”
“Yeah, plus we want to have a real good patter, and make it fun. Just like those auctions at The Big D.”

“I work at The Big D,” Jed said.

The men stopped and looked at the teenager in jeans and a cowboy shirt. He didn’t look like much, but he did have a slave remote on his belt, along with a slave goad and a coiled slave whip.

“I’ve seen the kid work at The Big D. He’s good. Damn good.”

“But can he auction his mom, and his sister?”

Jed was definitely the stepson, and his stepmother forced him to work while his stepsister got to lounge about at home. It was his stepmother who had persuaded his father that he should work “for a few years, in a blue-collar job”, before he went to Harvard. Fortunately, his father was friends with Jake, the owner of The Big D, so at least Jed had work he enjoyed.

“Yeah, can you really put your mom through her paces? Like a real slave girl, I mean?”

“I’m a professional,” Jed replied. “If it’s got tits and a pussy, I can sell it.”

Howard felt a surge of parental pride as his son asserted his independence. Yes, this was definitely getting interesting. VERY interesting!

“Hey, don’t we get a voice?” Taylor said.

“Yeah, maybe some of us don’t want to get sold,” Katie echoed.

“We’re not slave girls,” Selina said. “It’s just a costume party.”

The revolt was cut short as Jed took the remote on his belt and used it to shock all the naked slave-girls-in-waiting. Adjusting the dial, the women were surprised that when they tried to speak, it came out as giggly squeaks, grunts, and moans.

Much to Howard’s delight his fellow billionaires were impressed at the way Jed had silenced their bossy spouses, and didn’t resist as the 19-year-old took charge.

“Jemima, take them into the dining room, and get them prepped. I want all those pussies wet and ready for the block.”

“I only got two hands, Mister Jed,” Jemima replied, “and with their hands zipped up, them sluts can’t juice themselves.”

“Have them use the dining room chair legs. 4 legs per chair, that’s more than enough pussy poles to get them hot-and-sloppy. Use my slave whip if they don’t keep up the pace.”

Jemima, grinning from ear-to-ear, took the slave whip from Jed. However, she used only her hand to slap the shapely white bottoms as she hurried the naked rich women into dining room.
Pulling dining room chairs out Jemima, grabbed Katie by her ear, slapping her naked ass as she ordered her mistress down on all fours. “Them legs are all carved up with grapes and fruit trees on the sides, so that will give y’all a lot to rub yer dirty snatch against. I want them legs SHINING, or I’m gonna whip yer white ass.”

Trying to ignore her smiling stepson and the men watching from the doorway, Katie lifted her hind leg and backed into the pole. The wood was intricately carved, and felt rough at first, but soon she found her rhythm, and began to slide up and down the pole. She was already excited about being restrained like a slave, and the added friction really got to her.

Katie gasped as she felt her juices flowing, and the pressure build. “I can do this,” she thought, “for the kids.”

Jemima added a second naked woman, then a third, then a fourth, one to each chair leg. It was easier with four women “polishing” the same chair, as with each woman pressing their pussy against the leg, it kept the chair steady and in position. Suzie wasn’t facing her mother, as she was on the opposite chair leg, but she could hear her grunting as she vigorously humped the intricate carvings of the beveled chair leg.

“Dat’s right, Miss Katie, you polish that leg GOOD,” Jemima snickered, pleased to see her Mistress using her snatch to polish the chair leg she was forced to polish every week. “I want ya’ to bust-that-dust, and make that chair leg SHINE, ha-ha!”

Suzie had thought she was doing a good job on her chair leg but was disabused of that notion when she felt something touch her bottom, then heard the crack of the slave whip. It took a moment for the pain to register, but when it did, Brittany screamed, or tried to scream, the slave collar around her neck reducing her cry to a comical yowl that made Jemima and the men watching from the doorway laugh.

“You get that ass MOVING, white girl!” Jemima said, smiling as the hot blonde whom she had dressed that morning redoubled her efforts. Jemima had seen Brittany’s naked ass many times, but never like this, and liked it this way best, bouncing and straining as her pussy quickly greased up and began sliding up and down the chair leg. The lips seemed to grip the little grapes and leaves carved into the leg, savoring the sensation, and soon Brittany was grunting like her mother, despite the pain.

Jemima moved to her next victim, a naked slut who was about 40 but was still top-shelf. MILF material. Grabbing her by the ear, she pushed her to the next chair, pulling it out and simply pointing at the ground. “You know what to do, Miss Scott. Get that leg up, bitch, and start humping that fire plug!”

Jemima pointed at three more women, who quickly took their place on the other three chair legs. It went much faster, now that each woman knew what was expected of her. Jemima hand spanked Taylor’s ass hard as she went by. “Keep those titties bouncing, LADIES,” she said. “We’se here to sell us some PUSSY, and free folks don’t cotton to waiting on yer’ skanky asses.”
“You four, on da’ other side of the table. Git yer’ asses down to the end of the table and get busy. MOVE! I want my legs to SHINE, with the sort of polish only a randy slave girl can give it. If it don’t I’ll whip yer’ asses!”

From the doorway, Jed watched with amusement as Jemima rapidly reduced the fabulously wealthy free women he had known his whole life into a gaggle of grunting and mewing Pleasure Sluts fit only for the collar and the auction block. He knew from his experience at The Big D that sometimes a trainer’s enthusiasm for their job could make up for any lack of technique.

A change in the volume and tone of the grunting made it clear to everyone in the room that the first slut was orgasming. To her everlasting shame it was Sun Tao, the beautiful daughter of the Chinese billionaire Wang Tao. Her father objected to her “wild, American ways” and had been infuriated when he found out that she had signed up for a slave yoga class.

“You want me to be a sweet Chinese girl, all humble and submissive,” she shouted back, “but you don’t want me to enjoy it. You don’t understand ANYTHING.”

“Your mother ended up in collar, on the block in Shanghai, sold to some filthy brothel. I could not save her from her urges. I will not lose you, too!”

“At least she knew someone valued her. Everyone always talks about their net worth. You make me feel like I am worth nothing!”

When the girls began undressing, Sun had wanted to join in, but couldn’t, with her father literally gripping her arm. Scanning the room, her eyes rested on Donald Sheldon, a former business partner of her father. They had been friends once but had a nasty falling out when Wang Tao had used his contacts in the Chinese company to effectively seize his shipping companies and casinos in China, forcing Sheldon to sell out for pennies on the dollar.

Their eyes met, and Sun licked her lips, and toyed with a button on her blouse. She gave a little cock of her head to where her father stood next to her, gripping his arm even as he was watching a very pretty Sports Illustrated super model undressing. Understanding immediately what needed to be done, Sheldon turned to the billionaire standing next to him, who was also staring at the super models unveiling. Sheldon quickly explained what needed to be done, and the man, smiling, went over to strike up a conversation with Wang, whispering in the air.

Wang hesitated. He did not want to leave his daughter, but there was money to be made.

His fellow billionaire whispered something else in his ear, an offer too good to resist, apparently.

Wang released his daughter’s arm, and waggled a stern finger at her, before following the other billionaire – and the money he promised – out of the room.

With her father gone, Sun was the next girl to strip, offering herself on her knees to Sheldon, her father’s rival. Sheldon smiled as he collared her, and Sun was pleased to see the enormous erection in his pants.

Sun was naked and collared by the time her father had finally returned, and his face registered his rage as he realized he had been tricked. Legally, he knew that Sun was an adult, and there was nothing he could do; the only thing worse than the humiliation of seeing his daughter slave naked in front of a room full of his business associates would be for him to lose his temper in front of everyone. He did not have long to wait, as a few minutes later she was naked in the enormous dining room, one foot in the air, humping a very bumpy chair leg.

As she nervously looked over her shoulder, she saw that her father was standing only a few feet away, holding his drink, staring at her with an anger disgust she had never seen before. The look truly terrified her, but her pussy was on fire, and somehow her anger only made her orgasm more intense. She pressed down harder on the wood, grunting as pleasure rolled her body.

CRACK!

“Keep that ass of yer’s moving, Panda Monkey!” Jemima shouted. “This ayn’t one-and-done, y’all need to keep squirting all night!”

The pain from Jemima’s whip was indescribable, but somehow it only spurred her on more. The girls on the three other legs of her chair had to press back harder themselves to keep Sun from pushing them across the room as she rabidly rubbed herself into a second shattering orgasm.

“That’s it, China doll. Don’t look so high-and-might now, do ya’? Yeah, make us some fried rice. Get that little fortune nookie of yers’ all hot and juicy, so we can put it on the block. You may not be white, but ya’ sure look tight, ha-ha!”

The combination of the pain of the whip, the humiliating commentary, and the unbelievable pressure on her throbbing pussy pushed Sun into an orgasm even more shattering than her first. Spurring herself on, she looked over her shoulder at the laughing, whip wielding black woman who was now her Mistress, and then to her father. As their eyes met, his face transformed from resignation into a hardened disgust. He downed his drink, set it down, then turned and walked out of the room.

She didn’t know if she had lost her father forever, but she knew that he was not going to interfere with her slave auction in anyway. After years of dreaming of this very moment, Sun would at long last know her true worth.

As the dining room chair legs got the polishing of their lives, back in the rotunda Jed was busy preparing for the main event. In the dead center of the rotunda was a large marble statue of naked Hercules lying in repose. As far as Jed was concerned, she had mythed on that one, and he watched impassively as several of the male servants hauled the enormously heavy statue out into the garden.

With the statue gone, Jed was able to make good use of the enormous Blanco Carrara marble pedestal now left vacant in the center of the room. 3 feet high, 6 feet long, and 3 feet wide, the white marble base would, with the addition of a white stepping stool borrowed from the servant’s quarters, make the perfect auction block.

Jed called Jake, the owner of The Big D, who was delighted at the news. Jake had actually wanted to attend, and he was sad that he was in Chicago, negotiating an expansion deal with Anne, an attractive and fabulously wealthy female financier who had the idea of reopening the historic Union Stockyards with cattle that walked on two feet instead of four. Jed was glad his boss was out of town, as it would have been hard to explain to him that as a slave trader, and a mere millionaire, his presence would not be welcome.

After explaining that the proceeds were for charity, and the “high gavel prices” of the merchandise to be vended, Jake agreed to eliminate the Big D’s sales commissions, and collect only a nominal $100 “doc and license fee”, and the sales tax, which would be remitted to the state of Texas. Jake’s one condition was that any “buy backs”, where the men attempted to retrieve their wives or daughters, would be processed through The Big D, as those would not be for charity.

“I think we’re ready to go, gentlemen… and ladies,” Jed said, referring to the small assortment of mostly older women who had deferred their chance to be auction and instead chose to join the bidders. “To make this legal, we need written records,” Jed explained. “Is there anyone here who can handle bookkeeping?”

“I’m a CPA,” Agnes Rutherford said, raising her hand. “But I’ll need something to record this with.” There was a momentary delay as the servants scurried to move a small marble end table and a comfortably padded curule seat. The seat, a symbol of Roman military and political power, would provide the perfect perch for Agnes to record the sundry details of the slave auction.

Agnes preferred a ledger book to a computer, and there was another delay as the cook was summoned and ordered to retrieve the book she used to record the grocery and assorted food expenses. Jed took advantage of the delay to disappear into his father’s wardrobe and return a few minutes later wearing one of his father’s old Halloween costumes, a Roman toga, complete with Roman sandals.

Stepping up onto the block, Jed smiled, and with a wave of his hand, silenced the crowd. “Friends, Romans, Countrymen! I come to sell pussy, not to praise it. The women who will be sold here today were once ladies of Rome, but their former status means nothing now. Each of them will be paraded naked on this very block, and their hidden charms will be revealed to your eager eyes, like the lowliest of sluts. I urge you to think nothing of who they used to be, and focus on what they are now, pleasure sluts eager to suck, and to fuck, and please you with all of their holes. Miz Jemima, bring the first animal forth!”

Jemima, decided to start the proceedings with a bang, and Jed was shocked to see his stepmother Katie walking out of the dining room and towards the auction block. She looked stunned, and walked slowly toward the block, hesitating with every step. Her stepson, smiling down on her, urged the audience to have patience.

“Normally, we require slave girls to bound onto the block, with an enormous smile on their face, and their titties bouncing. But the girls you will purchase today are untrained, and new to their collars. Even this one, with her dim wits and that bovine look in her eyes, understands that when she steps off this marble block of Rome her sale will be recorded, money will be exchanged, and there will be no doubt about her status.”

“Despite her lack of training and obvious stupidity, this ripe wench is ungraded Prime. The D on the collar shows she, like the other sluts that will be sold today, is being vended by the House of Delicius, known for selling the finest pussy in all of Rome.”

“That’s right, step right up on the block, my dear. I will not harm you. Look, I have no whip! No, I will treat you, and all the fine ladies I am going to sell, with the kindness you deserve.”

The crowd laughed as Jed slapped Katie hard on her ass, and she jumped up and squeaked a protest.

From her front row seat, Agnes used the lovely antique fountain pen to record the sale of item number 1, Katie Watson, with a debit to A/R and a credit to sales. All that was left was to record the amount. Agnes knew Katie well, but never particularly liked her. Like a lot of the women at this party, Katie was all about looks and money and status, and looked down on Agnes, who had earned her fortune working beside her husband in their tech company.

Agnes was older, and didn’t spend all day at the gym, so she had declined when given the opportunity to vainly parade herself in front of the billionaires. While she didn’t attend slave auctions very often, she was certainly going to enjoy this one. It was exciting to be creating the official record of the proceedings, and it gave her an enormous rush of power to know that she was going to take away Katie’s freedom with a stroke of her pen.

“I will start the bidding at 50,000. Visitors from other lands need not concern yourselves about exchange rates. We will take dollars, if you did not bring your gold coins with you. Please, my fellow citizens of Rome, bid generously, and remember, it’s for the kids.”

Several hands immediately went up, as the bidding soared. Elon had bid on her, which was rather flattering, given that he could buy anything. Warren seemed quite interested as well, which surprised her, as she had supposed he was too old to be involved in such things. But it was her husband’s lack of interest that bothered her the most. Howard wasn’t even looking at her, but was instead lost in a conversation with Tao, who was also ignoring the proceedings.

[ElJefe]

Fortune...nookie.

Sometimes you outdo yourself. Well played.