She had never heard Jed speak so calmly, almost menacingly, but then he punctuated his command with a slap on Katie’s naked bottom, and she obediently assumed the required position. She was so aroused that she was glad for the chance to rub herself, even if it was in front of all of her husband’s richest male friends, and numerous old crones who seemed quite happy to see her put in her place. That bitchy bean counter Agnes certainly seemed to be enjoying herself, tapping the sharp tip of her pen against her ledger like it was a knife she was impatient to stab into Katie’s back.
Ignoring them, Katie used one hand to support herself as she leaned back and spread her legs wide. Closing her eyes to shut out the leers and smirks of her ersatz “friends”, who had all been oh-so-polite and complimentary when she had welcomed them into her home, Katie began to rub herself rapidly, putting a finger inside of her as she used another to tease her clit.
Katie’s eyes quickly raked the crowd, searching for someone who might intercede on her behalf, someone who might help her. Katie was a demanding employer, so she wasn’t totally surprised to see her cook, chauffeur, and her maid, Fifi, grinning from a distance as their Mistress disgraced herself on the block. Fifi, who hated the extra short French maid outfit that Katie made her wear, and constantly complained that Howard and male guests grabbed her ass or legs, seemed particularly delighted to see Katie masturbating for the bidder’s amusement. The little bitch was so gleeful that she was literally bouncing up-and-down in her little costume, giving some sort of play-by-play to her equally amused coworkers as she tittered with delighted.
Katie’s friend Belinda, whom she had met at the club, had helped her pick out the dinner menu and had complimented her lavishly on how “perfect” everything had looked when she had arrived 90 minutes before. Now Belinda had her camera out, and was filming the proceedings, with a smile on her face that made it very clear that whatever her past loyalties she was very pleased with this turn of events. Blushing, Katie imagined these images appearing on Facebook the next day.
“Citizens of Rome, I offer you quality slave gash, ripe, luscious, and wet to the touch! Imagine this little bitch, once a fine lady of Rome, collared and kenneled, on her knees and begging to suck your cock. Open your wallets, as this slut opens up her hot, slave-sloppy pussy!”
Jed regarded his stepmother with cool dispassion, looking down on her with a calm, stern expression, regarding her, like the slave meat she now was. She was unbelievably fuckable, and vengeance was sweet, but he knew that as a licensed auctioneer he had a fiduciary duty to extract the best price possible. At The Big D he had already had the startling experience of auctioning a girl who had turned him down for prom, one of his friend’s hot mothers, and his Calculus teacher, Miss Hirota. However fraught his previous relationship was with his stepmother and Suzie, they were now both just gash for cash, and the market ruled.
Jed was shocked at bids as men and a few women who had money to burn outbid each other. The price approached one million, the bids started to slow down even as Katie continued to heat up. Satisfied that he had reached the best price, Jed decided to up the ante.
“Do you want more? Let it never be said that we do not offer the finest slave pussy in all of Rome! Bring forth her daughter, that we may sell the two hottest sows in Rome together!”
Katie, eyes closed and jerking herself toward orgasm, had shut out her son’s auction patter, and didn’t register the outrage that Jed was proposing. Lost in her own pleasure, she never saw her daughter Suzie bounding across the rotunda toward the auction block. Breasts bouncing, and with a stupid smile on her face, Suzie moved like a girl trained in slave yoga, and knew what was demanded of her on the block.
Without having to be told, Suzie squatted down in a position that mirrored her mother’s and began teasing her little bean. Her mother, opening her eyes, was shocked, then horrified to see the younger version of herself performing like a bitch in heat. Losing her grip in every sense of the world, her toes slid off the end of the block, and she quickly rolled onto the marble floor.
Katie felt a sharp pain in her shoulder when she hit the stone floor, not that anyone cared. Her former friends were merciless.
“Clumsy little bitch.”
“Idiot slave girl. She can’t even jill herself off.”
“Not surprising she slipped, given all the juices she’s dripping.”
“If Bill buys her, we’ll keep her in the garage. I don’t want her to stain the floor.”
No one made a move to help her or see if she was all right. She was, after all, a slave, and if she had broken her neck falling off the block the buyers would only have been unhappy if she had done herself in before the gavel fell.
Jed frowned. He was planning on getting good coin for his stepmother, and she was queering the deal. As she watched his stepmother pick herself off the ground, rub her shoulder, and climb back on the block, the phrase “queering the deal” played in his mind.
Jed turned to his stepsister, who, knowing what was expected of a girl on the block, was still teasing her pussy for the crowd’s amusement. “Lay flat on your back, face up, legs spread,” he commanded. Suzie was confused but had enough slave yoga to know that whatever her previous relationship was with Jed, the auctioneer must ALWAYS be obeyed.
As Katie mounted the block, Jed turned to the bidders. “No harm done!” he said cheerfully. “I offer you two pussies, twice as hot as either would be by themselves. Let me show you what I mean, with a little mother / daughter love!”
The crowd gasped, then murmured, then slowly began to applaud! Katie wanted to hit her grinning stepson with her fists but did not. In her slave girl mind, which was rapidly taking over her personality, she blamed herself for losing focus and falling off the block. Although she had never had formal slave training, Katie enjoyed slave romance novels, and was thus not unfamiliar with the century’s old customs and logic of the slave market. As a good auctioneer, Jed’s sole concern was to fetch the best price for her, and if that meant disgracing herself with Suzie, that’s what he needed to do. As the auctioneer, he would command, and she & Suzie would obey. As it was in ancient Rome, so would it be now.
Suzie was less prepared, and tightened as her mother climbed on top of her and ran her tongue over her lips. “Just do everything your brother says, sweetie,” Katie whispered, as she nibbled on her daughter’s ear. “We’re going to have to play slave girl for a while, and nobody out there is going to help us. The only way out is forward,” she whispered.
“That’s, it, sweetie. Let Mommy take care of everything. Let Mommy kiss it and make it better.”
Jed was spellbound as he watched his MILF stepmom stick her tongue into his stepsister’s throat, but remembering his duty he turned his attention back to the bidders. “Come now! Are mother and daughter reduced to pleasuring each other, with no firm hand to guide them? Are there no men in this room, who will show these two little lesbians how satisfying their master’s cock can be?”
Taking their cue from Jed, the two girls changed positions, and the bids poured in as Katie and Suzie began to eagerly 69 each other.
“Look at the little bitches go at it. They were born for the collar.”
“Disgusting.”
“Two little perverts! They should be whipped.”
“Buy them, and you can.”
“Disgraceful.”
“That’s slave girls for you.”
The cruel comments from the men that once held doors for them, and the women they had once shopped with, cut Katie and Suzie to the core. It was so unfair! Pleasure Sluts were punished when they didn’t disgrace themselves and held in utter contempt when they did.
Jed nearly came in his pants, even as he urged the bids skyward. It was understood at The Big D that the auctioneer and blacksmith might choose to fuck any of the girls they processed, with the owner’s permission, of course. Jed hoped that he would sell the two bitches to someone who would be amused at the two of them, who had made his life miserable in recent years, competing to lick Jed’s stiff prick.
The sales sum staggered even the billionaires. Jed knew that the women’s aristocratic pedigree, combined with the excitement of the auction and the charitable nature of the event, inflated the price far above normal market value. Too many of the male guests (and some of the females) had quietly lusted after these two hotties. Agnes found herself squeezing in the last few digits as recorded the sales price in the ledger, and decided that recording cents hardly seemed necessary under the circumstances.
As Jed announced the closing of the sale with a “GOING ONCE…”, Katie’s husband Howard continued chatting pleasantly with Tao, not even bothering to look at the two naked sluts rolling around on the marble block. Jed, having no gavel, signaled the end of the sale by stomping his cowboy boot on the marble pedestal.
Katie and Suzie were sold to Billie, who had been blackballed out of the club at Katie’s strong insistence for ogling Suzie and the hot girls in the showers. “Butch Billie”, as Katie nicknamed her, had never forgiven Katie. Suzie had heard that Butch Billie held fox hunts at her remote ranch, and it was openly known that she entered her female slaves in pony girl races.
Reaching into her jacket pocket, the smiling Billie extracted something from her pocket that she held up for Jed’s inspection. To her horror, Katie & Suzie saw that it was a branding head, with the same elegant “B” font that was emblazoned on Billie’s mannish tux.
Jed tried to act casual even as his heart raced. Ignoring the squeaks of the two slaves at his feet, he calmly stated their fate. “Yes, of course, branding is included, with your choice of permanent or temporary. I believe the cook has already fired up the Webber for dinner. If the staff can get a gag to prevent the bitches from biting their tongues off, we can see that they are properly marked before you leave.”
Katie stared at the large branding head in disbelief. She knew that Billie always carried her branding head with her, for occasions such as this. “I brand them personally, as soon the sale is complete. Slave girls got shit for brains, and pain makes ‘em understand their place.” Katie had paid $10,000 for the gold-plated weber grill in the backyard, never imagining it would heat up a branding iron for her butt.
In the other room, Jemima stalked the room, whip in hand, like the predator she was, shouting at the women to “grease your poles” and “don’t mind the bumps!” When she heard Jed shout for the next girl, she played a cruel game of enney-meenie-miny-moe before settling on...
Dakota!
The movie star had gone through full slave training for one of her most famous movie roles, and sprinted across the rotunda with a big smile on her face. She ignored the catty remarks from some of the women about her “tinny titties” and after letting Jed take her hand to usher her onto the block, started immediately into her block routine.
Titty shake, & giggle! (This was, after all, supposed to be FUN)
Slave Squat.
Spread ‘em wide!
Spread those lips.
Flip around. On all fours, doggie style.
Show ‘em your holes!
Dakota felt certain that her agent would buy her back quickly, as she started shooting on her next movie in less than 30 days. The studio had a lot invested in her, and her franchise, and the fact that she had transformed herself into an actual slave girl for the film meant an Oscar nomination was almost certain. As her price quickly passed $1 million, her confidence faded, as she wondered what she had gotten herself into, and more importantly, if she would ever get herself out.
The auction proceeded at a frantic pace, with the entire affair from the time she entered the room until the final closing bid taking less than 90 seconds. This time, the entire crowd stamped their foot in time with Jed to signal the close of Dakota’s sale.
When she was sold to Elon, she was relieved. She knew him socially, and while they weren’t friends, she knew full well that he was buying her for the publicity value of owning a movie star for a few weeks, and would free her as some sort of magnanimous gesture. If he did fuck her, it would be once, for trophy rights, before he moved onto something else.
Jed asked if her new master wanted her branded. After a suspenseful pause designed to make the naked, squatting girl on the block sweat it out, Elon demurred. He didn’t care about her pain, but she was too expensive as an investment to deliberately mar her skin. Even if it would have been fun.
And so, the sales proceeded. Display, bidding, foot stomping. All quite routine for a Texas slave auction, really, and Agnes recorded it in the ledger, in the same book as the purchase of the chicken and beef for the evening dinner.
Fortunately for Jed, most of the women who had put themselves in this situation had slave girl fantasies, and knew what to do, having taken slave yoga, or having practiced at home. A few, like Katie, had entered out of pure competitive spirit, and their sales took a bit longer, as the bitches were often too shy (or too stupid, Jed thought) to display themselves properly for the buyers. Taylor, much to Katie’s delight, was so scared she actually peed on the block. To Jed’s surprise, it didn’t seem to impact her price, as her fear of being sold simply spurred the bidders on.
Sun held out a bit of hope when she spotted her father in the crowd while she was doing her slave squat. However, after making sure she saw him, he pointedly turned and exited the mansion, leaving her to her fate. Sun was bought by Sheldon, her father’s bitter rival. She knew her slavery would not be easy, but that only made her pussy hum all the more.
By the time Jemima slapped her on the ass, signaling that it was her turn to face the shame and humiliation of the auction block, Rebecca was already gasping for air. She had certainly not planned on being auctioned off as a slave that night, but life is what happens when you’re planning other things.
Rebecca had come dressed as a Southern Methodist University cheerleader. The costume had required some thought, as while she wasn’t interested in competing for the raciest costume, she didn’t want to look like a stick-in-the-mud either. She had just made partner at her accounting firm, and while at 36 she was still pretty enough to pass for a college cheerleader, she wanted me to respect her as well.
Good luck with that now.
Rebecca shuddered as the cheers, applause, and foot STOMP from the crowd signaled the end of the auction even as she was running towards the block. Everyone in the room was totally into this, and there’d be no backing out now.
Rebecca wasn’t even sure why she was doing this. When the other girls had started stripping, her husband Randall looked to her, and gave her a daring, mischievous wink. She knew he was thinking of the Slave Yoga training she did in her bedroom, and the slave girl games they played in the bedroom.
She knew Randall was tired of her asking him how much she’d fetch in the slave market. The answer was always the truthful, but disappointing, “There’s one way to find out.”
He was right, of course. While getting her master’s in accounting, Rebecca had taken numerous courses in economics, and while she knew that slaves were board listed as gradable commodities, the price of any individual girl could swing wildly depending on who was bidding that day. Rebecca had heard a few of the prices from the other room, and they had astonished her. She was being sold to billionaires, and clearly a gold rush mentality had taken over as the men bid up the prices on women they had always secretly fantasized about fucking.
Plus, it was for the kids.
There were some giggles and whispers as Rebecca scampered across the marble floor, trying to be quick but not slide, as a wipe out in these circumstances would severely impact her price. Quickly climbing up on to the auction block, she turned to her auctioneer for direction. “Slave squat,” Jed said, not unpleasantly.
She quickly obeyed, looking up nervously at his gentle smile. His tone threw her. In her fantasies, her auctioneer had always been some swarthy Arab with a whip, but Jed was, quite literally, the kid next door. Rebecca lived less than two blocks away, and she had gotten to know Jed when he mowed her lawn and washed her car back when he was in High School.
Rebecca squatted, and spread her legs wide, all under the direction of a teenage boy who had once been delighted when she gave him a $10 tip.
Jed’s tone changed when he went into auctioneer mode, describing Rebecca’s hot body with words that made her blush. “We got ourselves a red-tailed beaver, split, wet, and ready for action. We got the gash, if you got the cash!”
“$100,000” a voice in the back of the room called out. It was Marty, the creepy partner at her firm who had hit on her day she was hired. The old lech had voted against her, she knew, and was constantly trying to sabotage her career, but she had organized a harassment suit from several former female employees that had forced him out of the firm in disgrace. She had kept her fingerprints off it, of course, but after he’d been forced into retirement Rebecca let him know that she had been the one wielding the knife.
Marty’s opening bid was high, and it was obvious he was trying to buy a quick win. But an oilman who Rebecca had defended in front of the IRS quickly raised the price to $200,000. She told herself that it was because he respected her skill, and wanted a month of private tax planning, but she knew in her heart that like all the other men staring between her legs he just wanted to fuck her.
“Rub that little cash box, fire crotch,” Jed said, tapping her thigh lightly with his boot. “Show the fine citizens of Rome what a hot, stinky slave slut you really are.”
Rebecca knew Jed wasn’t being mean, this was simply how it was done in the slave market. She remembered sitting by the pool in her bikini, pretending not to notice the shirtless boy trying not to get caught looking at her. He had been so shy! Once, when he had banged the porch steps with his mower, she had threatened to spank him. The blush on his face was priceless.
But his teenage nervousness and silly crush didn’t matter now. She was, as she put it, “a red hot snapper ready to be sold.” Whatever their previous relationship, it was now Jed’s job to get top dollar for her pussy, and so, they worked together, master and slave.
Rebecca leaned back to steady her herself as raised her crotch up and opened her sex up like a flower for the crowd’s inspection. She had come twice in the dining room, and was already hot and ready, but a little more lubrication never hurt.
She felt her nipples harden and groaned, tweaking her clit as Jed extolled her virtues.
“This is a bargain gentleman. Once a fine lady of Rome, a respected citizen, and a professional at that. Do you remember how smart she looked in her crisp gray suits, and glasses, her hair up in a bun? Well, I like it like it is now, in pigtails. You can use them as handles when she sucks your cock.”
“$210!”
“$225!”
“$230!”
“My fellow Romans! Is that all I’m bid, for a teenager who can do your taxes?”
There was laughter, and Rebecca blushed hotter. Rebecca was 36, but she had put her red hair in pigtails as part of the cheerleader look, and had never let her hair down after she had stripped. At the office, she used makeup to tone down her freckles, but for the costume party she had gone full Pippy Longstocking, successfully time traveling back to her days as a college coed.
Not that she’d ever have been a cheerleader. No, no, Rebecca was far too serious a student for that. Rebecca was a member of the intelligentsia, and a respected professional.
Jed’s voice offered a correction to herself assessment even as Rebecca shuddered with pleasure from tweaking her twitching clit. “She’s a burning bush, gentleman, a lady in the streets, a Pleasure Slut in the sheets. Look at how hot and red her twat is! It’ll be like fucking a forest fire.”
The words burned, because Rebecca knew they were true. She told herself that she had stripped because she didn’t want to disappoint Randall, but the truth is that she stripped because she couldn’t resist. Years of being the smartest girl in the class, the most hard-working employee, a rainmaker, and an accounting partner couldn’t satisfy the desire in her. Rebecca’s deepest desire was to see what her best possible block price could be.
“$240”
“$245”
Rebecca tried to see who was bidding, but her eyes locked with her friend Agnes, the accountant who would be recording her sale. When she had been in college, Rebecca had actually worked as a bookkeeper at The Big D, recording sales on their main block, Broadway, much as Agnes was doing now. Rebecca had enjoyed the rush of power she had gotten when she recorded a girl’s sale, knowing that she was formalizing their transformation from free woman into slave. It was particularly fun with someone she knew. Strangely, Rebecca had found that whether she had previously liked them or not didn’t matter, as she felt the same delicious rush either way. She felt no sympathy for them, for, as she had told Agnes, “They were only slave girls, and a girl doesn’t end up naked on Broadway at the Big D unless they are the most disgusting of Pleasure Sluts.”
Sometimes her friends were shocked to see someone they knew recording their sale. Prosopagnosia was the technical term for it, and it was quite common in slave markets, as free people were always surprised to see a neighbor squatting naked on the block or, conversely, someone they had met at their child’s school now acting as their auctioneer. Rebecca would have all their information up on their computer screen, of course, write down to every little mole. When the shit-for-brains slave girl spotted Rebecca, they seemed shocked, and it always took them a moment to place her. Rebecca would give them a wink, and a butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth smirk, signaling how much she was enjoying their debasement.
Now it was Rebecca naked on the block, locking her eyes with Agnes, the fellow accountant recording her sale. Rebecca had known Agnes her whole life, and it was Agnes who had encouraged her to go into accounting, and had helped her study for the CPA exam. Agnes had helped Rebecca get her job at The Big D, and Agnes had laughed and scolded her for being “so mean” to the women she was auctioning.
Which is why Rebecca was stupefied when her smiling friend held up the ledger, and tapped the spot where she had already recorded her name with her pen. Clearly relishing her power, Agnes gave her a little wink, and her best “butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth” smirk.
Jed’s foot tapping her side brought her back to the harsh reality of her sale. “Let’s turn her around, so we can see the little accountant’s ASSETS,” Jed teased. “Spread those cheeks wide, my little ginger snap, so the men can see where they make their deposits.”
Rebecca obeyed, opening up herself up for the buyer’s inspection. She could hear the bids, but as if to shield herself from the shame of what was happening to her, she found herself wondering what her book value might be. Under Generally Accepted Accounting Principles, slaves could be brought to market at the end of each period, for they were a commodity traded on an exchange. At the end of the financial period, unsold inventory could be revalued at market price.
Rebecca had actually written an article for The Accounting Journal explaining why mark-to-market presented a much more realistic financial picture. A slave market like The Big D invested a lot of money enslaving girls, in the form of advertising or lost-leader give aways designed to enticed young women through the front doors. This cost was immediately expensed. The purchase price, which was typically the amount recorded as an asset, was often quite low, as the women frequently self-enslaved. Bringing graded chattel to market allowed them to record the expected revenue as a gain and the Pleasure Sluts as the assets they were.
Under International Financial Reporting Standards, the rules were different. As a principal-based system, the rules were more flexible, and a girl like Rebecca might be marked up to an estimated price that exceeded her price on the futures market. In this case, it would be more accurate, for Rebecca had numerous billionaire clients who wanted to fuck her. However, this lack of strictness could lead to abuse, and the girls being overvalued, and so Rebecca favored GAAP.
It was the 31st, the end of the month. Rebecca wondered how her friend Agnes would value her red-hot beaver on the books, and what the resulting profit margin would look like. The question so intrigued her razor-sharp intellect that she never heard the closing bid, or realized she had been sold until the enormous STOMP from the crowd shocked her back to the harsh reality that she was no longer a CPA, but a freshly sold Pleasure Slut.
“Good work. Good price,” Jed said, whispering in her ear as she rose. She knew he was trying to be nice, but she stared back at him like a stunned lamb. She had only been on the block for a few seconds, but it had seemed like hours. Had Marty purchased her? She wondered what his brand would look like on her ass.
“The auction is now closed, and I want to thank you all for helping out the kids. I’d even thank the slave girls, if it were possible to thank a slave for anything. You will be able to view your license and title online by tomorrow afternoon, and you will receive an embossed copy from the County registrar’s office within a week.”
“This auction was conducted under the auspices of my employer, the Big D Slave Market, by me as a licensed auctioneer, and is entirely legal under Texas law. Whoever they once were, the girls whom you purchased are now slaves, and should be treated as such. Some may return to their boring, uninspired lives, some may choose a life of meaning and service, and remain in their collars forever. All will be transformed, forever, by the experience. I will close with the words of our immortal emperor, Julius Caesar, ‘It is impossible not to become what others think they are.’”
As dinner had been delayed already, the brandings were held in the yard, while the guests enjoyed their sorbet. Katie & Suzie were both branded by Billie, who showed them no mercy, and taught them what it was like to howl and pee while people who you thought were your friends laughed and applauded.
There was some debate among the women about who won which trophy, as several of the sister and mother/daughter combos brought higher prices. Katie & Suzie were not around for the debate; although most of the women were returned to their homes within a few weeks, Billie kept Katie & Suzie in training through the Spring and raced them all summer. Howard missed them, and Jed did not, but for their different reasons they always went to watch the two women race and even participated in the occasional fox hunt. The only thing Jed regretted was that he didn’t dare use them in front of his father, although he did get a sloppy blowjob from his step-mom after the race.
Rebecca had lost her CPA license and her college degrees when she had been enslaved. The University of Texas would not reinstate her degrees unless she did the course work, and without her degrees she could not sit of the CPA exam again. Fortunately, Randall didn't need the money, and was happy to have a stay-at-home, slave hot wife. Agnes got Rebecca a bookkeeping job at The Big D, which Rebecca enjoyed enormously, although when she recorded brandings in her ledger she couldn't help but wince as she thought of of the enormous, thick brand Marty had burned into her ass.
And so it was that Dallas most elite socialites raised over $100 million for the worthy cause. They went home changed women, friskier in their beds and eager to please, although many of them also returned with official slave grades and brands on their butts.
After all, it was for the kids.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!