4th of July Slave Parade, Part Two

[imreadonly2]

It was just a typical Tuesday night, as Taylor Swift might put it.

I sat at the computer screen, my eyes bleary from reading a jigsaw puzzle of words and clauses. As an attorney, I pride myself on precision, and on cutting through dense legal jargon to the core of the matter. My home office was a sanctum of order, the walls adorned with diplomas and certificates that whispered of my bar awards and photos with famous people. But I left the door open, and in the background, I could hear Walter listening to some stupid game on the television.

A notification popped up on my email. It was the town's release form for the 4th of July Slave Parade. I had written it, so I knew what to expect—until I got to the part about the power of attorney. I felt like I had been hit in a face with a pie (or something else you can imagine). It stated that while under the custody of Slave Mart, my husband would have the authority to "make all decisions regarding my body and person and possessions." It was a full power of attorney. This was not what I had bargained for when I signed up for this gig. I had thought it would be a simple case of flashing some flesh and raising money for the animal shelter. But handing over all my legal rights to Walter, while I was in custody of Slave Mart? It was a bridge too far.

I tried to ignore the knot forming in my stomach and approached Walter, who was still glued to the TV, his eyes glazed over with the excitement of the football game. "Babe," I began, trying to keep my voice calm, "you know that release form I wrote for the town?"

He grunted, not taking his eyes off the screen. "I guess. What about it?"

"They added something. It says you get full power of attorney over me during the parade," I explained, my heart racing. "And since you're in charge of my body and person, you could sell me at the auction at the Gazebo, where the parade ends."

Walter's eyes flicked over to me, a smirk playing on his lips. "Is that so?" He leaned back into his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. "Well, I guess that makes it more interesting, doesn't it?" Then he went back to watch the game.

I glanced at the set, annoyed. “Who plays football in July? Is this a re-run?”

“It’s the Canadian Football league, Sweetie,” he said without even looking at me. “Pretty good game, too,” he added, before taking another sip from his beer.

Was he trying to piss me off? My jaw clenched as I tried to keep my frustration in check. "I’d appreciate as much attention as the Canadian Football league. If I'm on that auction block, and you decide to sell me, it would be real. I'd be someone's property."

He took a sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Don't worry, Julia. I'll only sell you to someone who treats you right," he chuckled.

My desire to sell the TV was escalating. "Walter, I'm serious. Turn off the television. This isn't funny."

He finally tore his gaze from his idiotic game, setting his beer down. "Okay, okay. You're right, it's not a joke. But come on, Julia, you have to admit it's fun to think about. You're going to be a hot commodity out there. Think of the bidding war!" His smile was infectious, but I couldn't shake the unease.

I leaned against the doorframe with my arms folded tightly across my chest. "Walter, I need to know you won't sell me. I'm not just hot slave pussy you can sell off the block."

It was clear that Walter was enjoying the moment, relishing my discomfort. "You’re a lawyer. What’s your favorite phrase? ‘That's not what the contract says’," he teased.

"I'm not kidding, Walter," I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice as he cheered a particularly good play. "This is serious."

He laughed, a deep, belly laugh that filled the room. "All games are serious, including the one I’m trying to watch, if you’d let me. But imagine how hot you'd look up there on that stage, all bare and vulnerable. Who wouldn't want to own a piece of that?"

I rolled my eyes, but the knot in my stomach grew tighter. "Walter, I need a promise. No selling."

He sighed, turning up the volume on the TV, to end the conversation. "Fine, I promise. But only if you do something for me first." He winked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I knew what he was after. Walter had always had a taste for the dramatic, and what could be more dramatic than watching his high-powered attorney wife on her knees, begging for his mercy? I felt a strange mix of annoyance and arousal at his playful dominance. "What do you want?"

"Let me watch my game in peace," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "And maybe, something that else that might make me more sympathetic to your plea."

I bit my lip, contemplating the trade. It wasn’t a plea, in either the legal or colloquial sense, it was a demand. Still, the thought of being a mere plaything in his hands was both terrifying and exhilarating. Since the conversation had begun, the buzz in my pussy had only grown.

"Alright," I conceded, my voice a little too eager. "Plea entered. What did you have in mind, your Honor?"

Walter's smirk grew wider. "I don't know. What could you do right now, to convince me not to sell you, and trade you in for some hot 20-year-old?"

I looked at him, the wheels in my mind turning. I knew exactly what he wanted. A demonstration of my submission. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Okay," I said, standing up straight. "But only if you're really not going to sell me."

"Promises to slave girls aren't binding, Sweetie. You're a lawyer, I'm surprised you don't know that. Have you gone all slave stupid already?" he teased.

I shot him a look that could have frozen lava. "Walter, would you turn off that fucking game? Having to listen to that shit is driving me crazy!"

He laughed again, but I could see the glint in his eye that told me he was enjoying this more than he should. “If I were you, I’d focus on sealing the deal. You need to do something that proves your worth keeping, and I shouldn't use your purchase price to buy myself a hot slave wench, eager to please."

The idea of being reduced to something to be bought and sold made me bristle, but I also knew Walter. He was clearly playing a game, and if I didn't play along, he'd just find another way to push my buttons. Plus, as much as I hated to admit it, the little power game he was playing turned me on. I stepped into the room, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor, and bent down to whisper in his ear. "How about this?" I suggested, licking my lips as I knelt down before him and unzipped his fly.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the set as I took his already-hard cock in my hand and began to stroke it gently. He turned the sound up, emphasizing that I was competing for his attention, but his smug expression slowly morphed into one of pleasure, and I knew I had his full attention. I leaned in closer, my breath warm on his skin, and took the head into my mouth, sucking gently. His hand found my hair, guiding me deeper, but I resisted, teasing him with slow, deliberate strokes of my tongue.

The tension grew as I continued, my own excitement building. I knew that Walter was watching the game, but the only thing I cared about was the game we were playing. His grip on my hair tightened, and I could feel his body tense as he approached climax. Getting into the headspace, I sucked as if my freedom depended on it, as if being good enough might make him hold onto his end of the bargain. The thought of sucking him off to keep my freedom was hot, and I put my hands down my own pants.

I took him deeper, my cheeks hollowing out as I sucked harder. His breathing grew ragged, and the room filled with the sound of his grunts and the cheers from the TV as the big play unfolded.

My own hand found its way into my panties, my fingers sliding over my drenched folds. I knew he'd expect a performance worthy of a whore, and I'd be damned if I didn't give him one. I had to admit, the situation was turning me on more than I cared to admit. The idea of being at his mercy, my fate hanging in the balance, was a thrilling mix of fear and desire that I couldn't ignore.

The game's commentator shouted something about them being on the 10 yard line, and Walter's eyes flickered to the screen. I took the opportunity to deep-throat him, feeling his cock hit the back of my throat. His grip on my hair tightened, and he groaned in pleasure. His eyes snapped back to me, his smile wide and hungry. "That's more like it," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

I could feel the pressure building in him, his hips thrusting slightly with each suck. The power dynamic had shifted, and I was the one in control, for the moment at least. I picked up the pace, my hand cupping his balls and rolling them gently as I took him deeper and deeper. The room smelled of his arousal and the faint scent of leather from the chair he sat in, and I found myself getting lost in the moment, the fear of the auction block spurring me on to greatness as my pussy buzzed with pleasure.

The crowd on TV went wild, and so did Walter. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed my head down, forcing his cock down my throat until I gagged. I knew he was close. I sucked harder, my own breath coming in short gasps around his shaft. As the running back drove the ball over the goal line, his legs tensed, and with a roar, he came, his hot seed filling my mouth. I swallowed it all, my eyes watering, and looking up at him, even as my own orgasm rocked me.

It was like nothing I had ever felt before. My body spasmed, my pussy clenched, and for a moment, the world around us ceased to exist. The only things that mattered were the sounds of our labored gasps, the taste of his salty scum in my mouth, and the way my body responded to his climax. I had read about "slave-gasms," but I had always thought they were just a myth, a way for slave girls to cope with their situation. But as my cunt clenched around my own fingers, the reality of it hit me like a bolt of lightning. This was what it was like to be completely and utterly at someone else's mercy, and the pleasure was mind-bending.

My eyes watered, and I could feel Walter's cock pulsing in my mouth as he shot his load into my eager mouth. It was thick and salty, and as I hung on to it, savoring the bitterness of his spluge. The power shift between us was frying my lawyer, boss-girl brain.

My climax was totally different than anything I had ever experienced. It was deeper, more primal. It was as if my body was responding to the reality of my situation, the idea of being owned and used for someone else's pleasure. My pussy was spasming, and it was like nothing I had ever felt—like I had been turned into a mindless fuck toy, and my body was loving every second of it.

I put my head on his lap, while he gently stroked my head and finished watching the game. The only break was when I fetched him another cold beer.

After he went to bed, I read the release form 20 or 30 times, playing with drippy pussy as I worked my way to another slave-gasm. It wasn’t as powerful as when Walter scummed into my mouth, but it was amazing.

Exhausted, I signed the release forms, and sent them back to Millie, the town clerk. On Friday, for a few hours at least, i would be Walter's property, and Slave Mart would have an easement

TEMPORARY USE AGREEMENT FOR PARADE PARTICIPATION
This Agreement is made and entered into on this 1st day of July, 2025, by and between:
1. Purpose
Owner hereby grants User a temporary, non-transferable license to use the prospective slave chattel known as Julia James (“Slave”) for participation in the 4th of July Parade held in Blue Valley, Kentucky on July 4, 2025.
2. Scope of Use
The Slave may be used by User solely for participation in the 4th of July Parade and for any reasonable preparations related to the event, including transportation, grooming, and staging.
3. Term
This Agreement shall commence on July 4, 2025, and terminate on July 4, 2025, unless otherwise agreed in writing by both parties.
4. Care and Responsibility
User agrees to exercise reasonable care in handling and riding the Slave, and to follow all instructions provided by Owner regarding the Slave’s care, behavior, and safety. User assumes full responsibility for any permanent injuries or damages arising from misuse or negligence.
5. Fair Use
User may discipline the Slave in a reasonable and non-excessive way, using slave goads, whips, or paddles, at the User’s discretion. User is liable for any permanent damage.
6. Liability and Indemnity
User agrees to indemnify and hold Owner harmless from any claims, damages, or liabilities resulting from User’s reasonable use of the Slave, except in cases of Owner’s gross negligence or willful misconduct.
7. Optional Sale Authorization
At the sole discretion of the Owner, Owner may authorize User to offer the Slave for sale at a public auction to be held at the Freedom Gazebo in Liberty Public Park following the conclusion of the 4th of July Parade.
• The sales authorization must be made in writing and signed by the Owner prior to the commencement of the auction.
• If authorized, User shall act as Owner’s agent solely for the purposes of facilitating the sale.
• User shall receive a commission equal to 10% of the gross sale price, and shall be responsible for all necessary paperwork, licensing, and transactional costs associated with the sale.
• User shall also be solely responsible for publicizing the auction event in a commercially reasonable manner, consistent with industry standards and commensurate to publicity provided for other livestock auctions conducted by User.
• The Slave shall be made available for in-person examination and inspection by prospective bidders for a minimum of thirty (30) minutes immediately prior to the start of the auction, under the supervision of User.
• The City of Richmond shall receive 25% of the gross sale price as a municipal fee or contribution.
• The remaining 65% of the gross sale price shall be remitted to the Owner, unless otherwise agreed in writing.
• The Owner shall have the right to set a reserve price and may refuse the final bid if it does not meet the reserve. If the reserve price is met or exceeded, the sale shall be considered final and binding, with no refunds or returns permitted.
8. Governing Law
This Agreement shall be governed by the laws of the State of Kentucky.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the parties have executed this Agreement as of the date first written above.

I wondered which one of my competitors had written the agreement. Was it Stanley Jeffs, the wanna-be Romeo who always hit on me in court, before I handed him his butt? Or was it Herb Watson, who got so pissed off at me when I handed him his ass that the Judge held him in contempt. I wasn't a SLAVE even though they deemed me one in the document, so I suspected it was their shitty, substandard legal work. I imagined either one of them would have gotten a kick out of writing the easement for my enslavement.

I checked the creation date of the pdf. It was a standard form, but it had been created today, with the specifics of the 4th of July parade filled in. As my auction had been announced the day before, and this was the first “Slave Queen” parade, there was at least a reasonable chance that whomever prepared the document had me in mind.

If it was one of the men I bested, and they had prepared it with me in mind, that would explain the gratuitous bit about the whips and paddles. No doubt they’d enjoy seeing me getting my ass whipped as I ran naked down the street.

I rubbed my pussy with one hand as I e-signed the pdf and sent it back to Millie.

[lovethissite]

Great contract my only question is there a time limit on the slavery or is it permanent?

[Belinda]

Joe thank you so much for this wonderful professional woman in peril tale. Just awesome as your usual.

Warmest regards,
Belinda