My Halloween Costume, Part 2E - The One Drop Shop

[imreadonly2]

Thanks for following along. And now, our story concludes...

My stepbrother Sebastian entered a few minutes before 7PM. He walked directly to the front of the block, and picking up a nearby riding crop, tapped his palm with it in a most menacing gesture. Reaching up, he cupped his pussy into my hand, the slid his thumb inside.

“All wet and hot to trot, I see. Don’t worry, Katherine. Once I get you home, I’ll give you a proper ride. Then I’ll send you out to the barn with a few of my studs, the one’s hung like horses, and breed you like the little bitch you are. You’ll drop your bastard out in the fields, while you’re picking cotton, and you won’t miss a day’s work, or I’ll paddle your lazy behind for it. I’m going to have a fine time, putting you in your place.”

Sebastian withdrew his hand, and pulled up a chair directly in front of my marble block. Taking out a cigar, he enjoyed a long, leisurely smoking break, reveling in my naked humiliation. His eyes gleamed with pure malevolence. I tugged on my bound hands, desperate to get free. As soon as I was able, I would remove the cursed necklace, and escape.

I had been in Bella’s company for several hours. What time would it be when I was transported back to the theme park. Would I be wearing the clothes I came in, or would I be transported back naked? It didn’t matter. I knew I had to get out of this time line, far, far away from the clutches of people so much like me. No matter how just it might be, I had to escape from the Pattersons.

Sebastian continued gloating over me, enjoying his power, smirking, blowing smoke rings at me as I was forced to stand naked in his presence. The stiffness in his pants was obvious, but with the riding crop resting on the arm of the chair I did not dare say what I thought of him.

The marble beneath my bare feet was like a block of ice that would never melt, and my nipples were pointy and as hard as diamonds. I was freezing, but cold rivulets of sweat were running down my back, and into my ass crack. I could feel the little beads of sweat on my face, too, although with my hands bound to my elbows I couldn’t wipe them away. Every now and then I blinked as the sweat dripped into my eyes.

The noose around my neck pushed my chin up and my tits out, and I kept my legs spread for his viewing pleasure, like the other frightened bitches around me. Yes, I was no different than the others, just another obedient slave girl trembling in fear of the lash.

Why was I sweating, standing on the icy marble. Was it the riding crop resting inches from Sebastian’s hand, which he occasionally picked up and played with, simply to enjoy the terror in my eyes? Or was it my utter helplessness, and my inability to protect myself from the prying eyes and fingers of whomever might walk through the door? Or was it the knowledge that soon I would be sold to some rich pervert?

It was all of the above.

I knew Sebastian didn’t mind watching me jiggle, or my awkward shifting of weight from foot to foot that caused my titties to jiggle. Watching me sweat it out was part of the fun. In the mirror, the “12” painted above my tits looked a little like “21”, my age. In turn, the 21 looked like 12, which would be handy for dyslexic perverts who wanted to buy my pussy.

A few hours ago, I had been the Queen of the world, the richest bitch in LA, lording it over a party of celebrities sucking up to me in the hopes that one of my endless hedge funds might fund one of their passion projects.

“The caviar isn’t bad, but it’s not Beluga. I can always tell the difference.”
“Who cares if Taylor’s here, I want to see Travis.”
“Look who’s here. I haven’t seen him since Jeffery Epstein’s Island closed.”
“Would it be rude to ask Tim Cooke to fix my iPhone?”
“I can’t believe girls are swimming in that pool. I wouldn’t touch that water on a bet.”
“No, I’m not going to date you, Leo, so stop asking. Isn’t 21 too old for you?”

I had been given the cursed necklace by that Voodoo black bitch, but in return, everything else had been taken. She had taken my money, my status, and everything I owned. I had been stripped of my identity, my clothing, and my dignity. I wasn’t even a person anymore. I was slave pussy, tail for sale.

Using the loop of his riding crop from here, Sebastian used the loop at the end of his riding crop as a pointer. “Spread your legs more. Put them on the very ends of the block.”

I obeyed. Sebastian smiled, took a long drag of his cigar, and smiled.

“Now, SQUAT!” he said, punctuating the command with two snaps of his finger.

Sebastian drew out the word SQUAT, emphasizing the shame of what he was commanding me to do. It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago I had been the one in charge, with celebrities begging for my attention.

Now when a man snapped his fingers, I squatted.

I had to be careful, as with hands bound to my elbows, it was difficult to keep my balance on the block.

“Deeper, deeper… I want to see those pussy lips of yours spread. Now lean back a bit, and show me your asshole, too.”

It was an excruciating position, and if I didn’t have countless hours of yoga and aerobic training, doubtlessly I would have tumbled backward off the block and cracked my head open on the marble floor. Not that Sebastian would have cared. After all, he didn’t own me. Yet.

Sebastian made me hold the impossible position, smiling as I panted, and shifted my weight, and struggled not to fall. Sebastian smiled as he watched me struggle. “You really are a disgusting slut. I can smell you from here. You’re actually dripping onto the block. Drip, drip, drip. What a little piggy you are. I wonder if cotton head is really the best name for you. Maybe I’ll call you “Piggy Pouch”, or “Honey Drip.” So many possibilities.”

GONG! GONG! GONG! The clock’s chimes reverberated in my soul.

Sebastian rose, and taking the bid out of his pocket, placed it in the golden box just as Billy collected it, at the final stroke of 7PM.

The men were ushered out, and the doors were closed. Billy returned with a clipboard, and, checking the number on his roster, ushered the first girl, a gorgeous Chinese girl who was about as African as Confucius, out of the room to meet her new masters.

We all stood on the block, waiting our turn. A number of the girls had allowed their posture to slacken a bit, but none of us dared to talk. Knowing what was coming – and NOT knowing what was coming – we all struggled to breathe.

The girl next to me was taken, then a girl on the other end of the room. There seemed to be no rhyme nor reason to the order of our disposal. As I waited, I could hear two of the men talking outside of the study door.

“Them abolitionist girls have been asking everybody about The One Drop Shop. They want to gather all kinds of stories for their next pamphlet, about brownies that can nearly pass for white being stripped naked and paraded on the block.”

“Girls who wanna know all the little lascivious details, make’s ya’ wonder,” his companion noted.

“Judge Watcher didn’t wonder, none. He stripped them down, naked as jays, and sure enough they lathered up real good when Bella gave ‘em a good rub. Billy’s filling out the paperwork on ‘em now. Once we get the brands on their asses, and put ‘em on the ship down to Brazil, there won’t be any more foolishness ‘bout them being white. They’ll put ‘em on some plantation where nobody even speaks English, and let ‘em brown up working in the sugar cane and coffee fields. The only thing they’re going to be using their lying mouths for is suckin’ their master’s bananas, ha-ha.”

I wondered if I was destined for a ship, too. I wish I knew who bought me. The only thing I knew was I was a slave girl.

At 7:21, my turn came. Billy returned and stood before my block, smiling as he checked the “12” on my chest and marked it off on his clipboard. Rather than using the stepping stool, a large, muscular African slave picked me up from behind and lifted me off the block, setting me on the floor. As he lowered me to the marble floor, I could feel his massive erection sliding over my bottom and up my back.

“What was my price?” I asked. “Did I beat the other girls? Did I win?”

“You got shit for brains,” Billy sneered. Cupping my pussy with his hand he said, “It’s the name who bought your sweet, wet snatch that won. Slave girls can’t win shit.”

“If the man who bought me won, that means I’m the best, and I got the highest price, right?” I said, desperate to finagle an answer. Didn’t he understand? I won. I always won!

Bill ignored my query. Taking me by the scruff off the neck, Billy pushed me out the opposite door, pushing me down a narrow hallway and then out another side door into the warm, tropical air. I hesitated when after the first step, realizing that I was stepping barefoot into a stable area behind the shop. To the left, there was pigsty filled with oinking animals, while straight ahead horses peered out their stalls at me. A hard slap across the ass propelled me forward, my bare feet sinking into the muck of dirt, mud, and excrement as I was forced forward.

I walked past several men, mostly laborers, although a few well-dressed gentlemen, wearing boots to protect them from the muck. They smiled at my naked body as I struggled forward toward the barn.

Upon my arrival one of the stall doors was opened, and the black Adonis who had lifted me off the block lifted me again and folded me over the door, so my naked ass was the highest point of my body. In front of me, Billy grinned like a demon as he used a pair of tongs to reach into a bucket and extract a thick, bundled rag which he stuck into my mouth, quickly using a leather strap to pull the gag tight into my mouth. The gag was so thick it prevented me from speaking, biting down, or moving my tongue. I knew at once what the salty, milky foulness the gag had been soaked in was, but as we were in a barnyard I was left to wonder as to its exact source.

Straps above and below my bottom, and across my thighs and calves, completed my bondage. There was no need to secure my wrists, as my arms were still bound behind my back.

“Is it hot enough yet?”

“More than hot enough.”

Looking back, I realize that my utter inability to comprehend what was about to be done to me would be enough to make many think the name “Cotton Head” was, in fact, my proper moniker. At the party, all of Hollywood had been kissing my bottom, but The One Drop Shop had a very different plan for my soft, unblemished ass.

I thought it actually cold at first, until I realized the metal that was being pressed against my bottom was blazing hot. I could feel the foulness in my mouth overflow as I bit down into it, and smelt my own flesh burning as Billy s-l-o-w-l-y made the count.

My mind twirled as I struggled to understand what was being done to me. Dazed, I was back at the party.

“Yes, Stella was lucky to have a rockstar father finance her line, so she could build her brand…”

One, Mardi-Gras…
Two, Mardi-Gras…
Three, Mardi-Gras…

Szzzzz! The brand sizzled into my backside.

I wasn’t totally unfamiliar with branding. I always carried a branded leather bag, with my family logo on it, and frequently wore monogrammed sweaters. The Patterson “P” was all over our family’s mansions, particularly in the entranceways, where you could usually find it in the marble floors. I always wore designer brands, although subtlety, and not like the wannabes.

Szzzzzzz!

“Yes, I’d like monogram on the leather in the dashboard. Not too big, mind you. I want it to look elegant”

I actually quite enjoyed branding, at least until now. I always branded my horses personally, as I felt it created a bonding experience, and demonstrated who was in charge.

Szzzzz! The sizzling continued. I started pissing, and the men behind me joked my “barnyard bitch behavior” proved I was a slave girl.

“I am a slave girl,” I thought. “Legally, it is done. I have been sold. Branding my ass is just a formality, like putting a monogram on my dog’s collar.”

“Five, Mardi Gras.”

At the count of five, the iron was removed, and I went ragdoll limp. I was released, and brought to my feet, but when I tried to stand, I staggered and fell into the pig shit.

I didn’t move as Billy cut the rope around my wrists and throat, releasing me at last.

I was free. I could take off the cursed necklace, and go home. The irony was, too exhausted to move, I lay in the muck and sobbed.

“Do you like Halloween costume, slave girl?” a familiar voice said.

Looking up, I struggled to focus through my tears. The black woman from the shop smirked down at me. Beside her stood Bella.

Bella was totally nude, and totally stunning. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her breasts were perfect, and the patch of red between her legs matched the hair on her head perfectly.

The old black crone bent down, reaching for my throat, still red and raw from the rope burns of my near hanging on the block. “Now that your Halloween costume is complete, I will need necklace back, little girl.”

The black woman removed the necklace. I didn’t resist, but was too tired to even hold up my head after she retrieved the necklace and let my head fall. I waited for the change in lighting, the change in scenery, as I was transported back into the present. I wondered if the lash across my ass, and my brand would travel home with me, and if I would arrive naked or clothed back in the theme park. If it were the latter, it would certainly be a Halloween treat for all the horny teenage boys (and horny dads) leering at girls in sexy costumes.

I waited. I waited some more. Nothing happened. I looked up at the black woman. She was short, but as I was lying in the mud, she towered over me.

“I… I don’t… understand, I stammered. “The necklace…”

“She gave the necklace to me,” Bella explained, “until I didn’t need it anymore. Then she gave it to you. Now she needs it for the next girl.”

“The next girl?” I said, confused. “What do mean I don’t need it? Why am I still here?”

“You don’t need the interlocking handcuffs because you already have it. You’ll have it forever. The same as me,” Bella explained. “Our fantasy has come true. We’re slave girl sisters now. Now, and forever.”

Bella turned. Looking at her perfect bottom I realized instantly what they had branded onto my bottom without even being able to see. Bella’s perfect ass bore the same symbol as the necklace, only now the interlocking handcuffs were branded on her ass. Now and forever.”

My mind cleared as I recalled Bella’s disappearance. She had gone by herself to a theme park. This park. She was last seen in the African market section, shopping for trinkets. She was never found. Until now.

Picking me up by the hair, one of the workmen dragged me toward the horses trough and pushed my head into the rank water. “Let’s get you cleaned up, you lazy piggy,” he said. “You’re not here to laze around like some Ottoman odalisque. Y’all got work to do!”

The man dragged me back toward the bench, where about a dozen gentlemen were sitting, and chatting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. They didn’t. At the far-left end of the bench, Bella was kneeling before Colonel Lakewood, eagerly sucking his old cock to full attention.

“We’re getting your iron heated up. Your new owner wants to put his plantation brand on the other cheek. Until then, you’re going to service the fine gentlemen of The One Drop Shop.”

The young man whom I had sent to prison – and who’s name I still couldn’t remember – was sitting on the far-right side of the bench, and he already had his penis out when I knelt in front of him.

“Who bought me?” I begged

“You’ll find out when we brand you, Cotton Head,” he snapped. “Get busy, cocksucker. Show me what your mouth is for. Whichever one of you gets the fewest spurts, gets the switch!”

I didn’t know which of the men had purchased me. Was it Leo? Sebastian? Colonel Lakewood? Judge Watcher? Cotton head didn’t need to know. She was only a slave girl.

I got to work, bobbing my head up and down on his long cock in time to throbbing in my bottom. Bella had a head start, but Lakewood was old, and would take longer. Sister or not, I was determined to win.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

[lovethissite]

Thanks Joe. Happy Halloween.

[jessmartin]

I loved this episode, the helplessness Katherine feels being displayed and treated like an animal, the excitement she feels about it.
The way she wonders what is going to happen when she returns, if she returns, something I would like to happen, but after being fucked by Sebastian and his studs....
... and on her return she finds that everything has changed, Sebastian has all her money and Katherine is broke and her only way out is to become the plaything of Sebastian, Billy and the rest of the men she despises so much.

[timerider]

Thanks for stories. another winner.

[imreadonly2]

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the story here. If possible, can you vote for it on Literotica, so it can get a "hot" rating there, and find more readers. Thank you, and happy halloween!

https://www.literotica.com/s/my-hallowe ... -drop-shop

[Jim927]

Thanks for another great chapter, Joe. Please do us all a favor and keep writing.
Jim