Christmas Coed Auction Ch. 7
Posted: Tue Dec 23, 2025 6:26 pm
Belinda Craig’s POV
These men all assumed that because we were slaves, they were using us for their pleasure, but they were wrong; the opposite was true. Legalized slavery had resulted in a double standard regarding what constituted appropriate sexual behavior for men and women. Men were encouraged to use female slaves sexually while it was perceived as unladylike for women to do the same. Wearing a collar transformed us into sex toys for our male betters. Men assumed that former female slaves were forced to sexually serve their betters, thus allowing them to retain a vestige of honor due to the nonconsensual relationship between master and slave.
Reality couldn’t be further from the truth as many women used this perception in their favor. Wearing a slave collar freed me to partake in all the decadent, socially acceptable sexual activities for men that a good girl naturally shunned. As a pleasure slut I was expected to serve these men, and I found myself thriving at it. I was like a kid in a candy store. Suddenly, I couldn’t get enough sex as I waited impatiently to be bred again on that bench, having man after man empty his balls in my pussy as I hopefully climaxed right along with them each time, if not more often. What did my future hold now that this new me had awakened?
The sand between my toes from the auction block was a constant reminder that none of these free men would experience the intensity of my block-gasms when they climaxed into one of us, and I was still going strong. I was sinking into a sexual delirium, chasing pleasure solely focused on the sensations from the cocks pistoning in my mouth and pussy, attaining another orgasm was the only thing that mattered.
Before me, another slave wrangler was already stepping up, replacing his predecessor. This one was younger, a heavily tattooed Hispanic with a pockmarked face, his fully erect, angry-looking cock bobbing in the air, dribbling precum from the bulbous head peeking out, partially hidden by his foreskin. Oh my, this was my first uncircumcised penis.
He fisted my hair, roughly shoving himself into my slick, eager mouth without hesitation, disrespectfully muttering, “Puta” under his breath.
The tattooed man was rougher than the other two, using both hands to hold my head still and fuck my defenseless mouth with the quick, messy thrusts of a man in a hurry. Shocked at the harsh treatment, I gagged, my eyes watering a little more from surprise at the force rather than the size of his maybe five-inch shaft. I didn’t resist him at all, finding his aggressive treatment intoxicating in a way. I stayed obediently in role, lavishing his shaft with my tongue as best as I could with my hands still bound tightly behind my back, my face already streaked with spit and cum as I eagerly sought his load with my lips tightly wrapped around his silky-smooth warm shaft.
Next up behind me was one of the fatties. I could tell when he grabbed me at the hip with one hand, and I could feel him leaning over me, maneuvering his large gut out of the way on top of my buttocks and lower back while his erection sought the entrance to my womb. Even flying blind, he quickly homed in on his target. One hand grabbed me by the shoulder, his other hand on my hip, holding me in place, while positioning his cock against my sopping wet folds, searching for the entrance. Feeling his mushroom head lined up to my vagina, I impatiently pushed back as best I could, telling him he was there, hoping to guide it in.
He didn't need my encouragement. His bulbous head bursting through my slick opening, he grabbed my hips with both hands, slamming the length of his shaft into me. I gasped from the sudden entry as he started moving and then began ruthlessly pounding into me. I could only cry out around the other man’s shaft in my mouth as the fat stud fucking me took what he wanted while giving me what I needed.
This time was different; faster, rougher. He was a stranger using me for his pleasure; I didn’t even know what he looked like. I was a piece of anonymous slave pussy, and he was fucking me with one thing on his mind. His penis wasn’t as big as the previous two, but it was big enough to rock my world. He gripped my hips, pistoning his cock into me like a fucking machine, as I prayed he would turn on my butt plug. I missed the added vibrations. In no time, he was gasping for breath from his exertion.
Sounds were coming out of me that I didn't recognize, short gasps and high-pitched squeals that were partially muffled by the cock in my mouth. I was crying out with the pleasure of being taken in this rudimentary manner by these total strangers. I didn’t know their names, and they didn’t know mine. I was nothing more than a nameless cumdump for these men to use to get off before they had to get back to work. This realization was mortifying to my self-image as a good girl while oh so sexually intoxicating as their penises forcefully thrust into my openings.
The fat man’s pistoning thrusts slowed to a deliberate in and out as I angled my hips so that he hit my magic spot, each motion sending shock waves through me. I was a rag doll, I was a toy, I could feel every inch sliding into me, bottoming out, then pulling out so only the head remained lodged within me, pausing as the winded man caught his breath. It was like momentarily being caught in the eye of a hurricane before once more being consumed by the raging storm. The onslaught continued when he pushed back in and started thrusting hard and fast once more, failing to turn on the vibrator, much to my dismay.
Both of his strong hands were on my hips, digging in, likely to leave bruises behind, holding me tight for his rapid thrusts. I angled my pussy, clenching his shaft, trying to get his fat head rubbing against my G spot. That completely overloaded my already fevered brain and forced a long, tortured cry out of me. I was getting railed, fucked like a dirty little slave girl, hard, fast, and deep, and loving every moment of it.
The man I was sucking moaned loudly, crying out, “Mamacita,” as he shot four large strings of thick, chunky cum into my eager mouth. Everyone in the room was watching me get nailed, get pounded like a little slut, fucked so hard I almost couldn't catch my breath with my lips wrapped tightly around the cock filling my mouth with his cum.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore except that glorious cock pistoning in my pussy. I could feel his thighs tense and his cock become like an iron rod, constantly teasing my G spot in short, little, inconsistent herkie-jerky thrusts. His hands gripped me tightly as his orgasm approached.
The man in my mouth pulled out with a grunt, smearing his wet cock across my flushed cheeks, adding to the mess already coating my face before bestowing one more indignity upon me after I displayed his slimy gift on my tongue and swallowed. He gripped my hair hard, yanking my head back and slapping his messy cock across my cheeks, back and forth, making the small audience in the room roar with approval.
Silly me, I tried capturing his cock in my mouth, hoping for another drop of his yummy cum, having acquired a taste for the substance. Was I becoming addicted to this stuff? I couldn’t seem to get enough of it. My cheeks flushed from the added humiliation almost pushed me over the edge into my next frenzy.
The orgasm forming deep in my core was close to breaking free. I was so close I could almost taste it. Just a little bit more. I was almost there, trying to increase the stimulation to my special spot while holding out hope that the fat man would kindly reach around and massage my neglected clitty just like Ted and Julian had. A sound came out of me resembling the anguished cry of an animal as my vagina clenched his shaft, convulsing around his cock for added stimulation as he unloaded into me, my hips tilting back to take it. His urgent, jerky thrusts and grinding pushed me towards a release that never came.
Another wrangler presented me with his hard, strange, misshapen cock, stifling my groans of disappointment as I sucked his tool into my mouth. It was five inches long and thin, a skinny shaft capped with a proportionally larger head than normal, almost resembling a hammer. How I associated it with a hammer, I would never know. I focused my efforts with my tongue on that big mushroom head, and if his moans and jerking hips were any indication, he liked what I was doing.
I was left hoping the fatty would reach around and flip my ignition button, sending me into orbit to join him in his release, but alas, it was not to be. I learned another difficult lesson today: The hard life of a pleasure slut chasing her slave-gasm only to be denied by an uncaring Master like this loser. I suddenly hated this guy with a vengeance. I’d done my part; why couldn’t he do me a solid?
The fat man pumped everything he had into me, grinding his cock deeper, holding it there as my pussy spasmed around it until he finished with me. I pushed back against him, trying to squeeze his cock with the muscles in my pussy, milking every drop out of him like a good pleasure slut. Or at least my impression of how one would behave, still unrealistically hoping he’d reach around and get me off. I learned the powerful lesson that keeps a pleasure slut going. Hope, hope that the next Master will reward her with an orgasm. The only thing I got this time around was a mouthful of semen from the hammer cock guy.
Wheezing, trying to catch his breath, his deflating cock no longer pulsing, the fat wrangler managed to announce to the room, “Fuck’n hot …, slave snatch!”
His sweaty belly that had, in a way, been pinning me to the breeding bench slid off my ass when he pulled out his shriveled cock. He grunted, slapping my ass hard in farewell, or was it thanks for a job well done, hoarsely calling out, “Next! This twat is nice and tight.”
Another wrangler filled my mouth with his average-sized, unclean dick. Didn’t he know what soap was as I lavished his cock with my tongue, hoping to get him leaking to improve the taste in my mouth. My empty pussy throbbed needily. I didn’t have to wait long when rough callused hands spread my cheeks wide apart. Fingers probed briefly, just enough to feel how loose and slick I already was, then a pointy, thin cock pressed against my hole.
This man didn't waste time. With a grunt, he pushed in as deep as he could, which wasn’t far, his big balls slapping against my pussy. I moaned in disappointment; his penis was so small I wondered if Bobby Shepard had a twin that was fucking me as I futilely tried clamping down on him as best I could. Desperately trying to improve the friction to get him off while hoping for a reach around. He was not so considerate, quickly exploding in my pussy, leaving his discharge behind when he pulled out at about the same time as the cock in my mouth gifted me yet another load of bitter, salty cum that I obediently displayed on my tongue.
My muffled cry of disappointment was swallowed by yet another cock filling my mouth, allowing me to fake gagging. His five-inch cock was nothing to write home about. Looking up at him, I locked eyes with Aaron Fulgham, another classmate from last year. What was this, a high school reunion at the Big D Slave Market?
With my eyes pleading for mercy, I mixed in some phony gagging sounds, making it appear that his shaft was choking me. It was music to Aaron’s ears. He grinned, giving me a moment of respite before grabbing my head and aggressively face fucking some more.
I’m not sure how the boy I knew from high school had in six short months become a confident slave wrangler at the Big D. Oily acne-faced Aaron used to be a soft-spoken loner with a stutter who blushed every time a girl talked to him. Amanda and some of the other girls teased him incessantly. Not anymore.
Grinning evilly down at me with my lips wrapped around his shaft, he ordered, “Keep your eyes open, I want to see them tearing up every time you choke on my cock.”
With his hands pushing against the back of my head, he shoved his hips forward even more, forcing me right up against his soft stomach with my nose buried in his pubes with his balls against my chin, leaving me unable to see anything. Now he was using my mouth as his fucktoy, and I ate it up.
“Eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you?” he sneered, pulling his average-sized cock out and slapping me in the face with it while verbally raining down a torrent of horrid names upon me for everyone to hear. “Slut, fucktoy, bitch, cum dump, whore, cock sleeve, human fleshlight, tramp, whore, fucktoy,” he ranted, repeating himself when he ran out of foul new names for me, much to the amusement of the small group of older wranglers watching.
It was so humiliating, and I loved it, eagerly sucking his cock when he jammed it back into my mouth wanting him to gift me a mouthful of his warm slimy discharge. He continued his demeaning tirade the whole time, thinking he was humbling me. If he only knew how much his unhinged verbal abuse had the opposite result.
Sixty seconds of verbal abuse later, I ended up with half his penis in my mouth. My lips tightly gripped around his shaft as I sucked hard, keeping my tongue flat against his cock, sticking it out, running down his pole, and back up, swirling it around his head. He didn’t last long. I ran my tongue back and forth on the sensitive underside, right below the helmet. I could feel him tense with pleasure when I concentrated on this one particular spot, until he came. Spewing strand after strand of thick, slimy cum filling me to overflowing, oozing out the sides of my mouth, leaving strands hanging from the sides of my chin when he finally pulled out.
“Look at you. A cum hungry slut,” he sneered, rubbing his cock in my face, accompanied by more demeaning taunts until he wiped it off in my hair, and he was gone.
Another man immediately took his place, feeding me another diminutive penis. Taking him into my mouth, I flattened my tongue and aggressively began stroking it against the bottom part of his cock just below the head, eliciting a contented grunt from him. I’d found my sweet spot. I’d inhale it to the root and work my way back up, lavishing the shaft with my wet, warm tongue. When I got to the top, I’d tease the helmet, applying suction around it while homing in on that special spot where the shaft meets the head. I was learning that most men didn’t last long that way.
Behind me, another man had pressed into my slick, oozing hole without hesitation. The thrusts started hard and fast, not deep enough, though, as I hoped he would cum quickly so that the next in line could take his turn with me. He did not disappoint in that regard, as he was done in record time, mercilessly slamming into my buttocks, trying to get deeper inside of me as he deposited his load, followed shortly afterwards by another load in my mouth as I honed my rapidly improving oral skills.
By now, I was lost in a complete sexual haze, experiencing a state of overwhelming insatiable lust. Every task felt mechanical, and I had difficulty staying present or focusing on what was happening around me, other than achieving another climax. It was just me and the men using my mouth and pussy, the means to an end for all of us. I had become a greedy pleasure slut absorbed with attaining my next slave-gasm. Nothing else mattered now as my frustration built after a series of forgettable losers.
These slave mongers were not making love to the beautiful debutante delicately draped submissively over the breeding bench. No, it was pure animalistic fucking, these men didn’t have time for foreplay with only a fifteen-minute break. The urgency of their thrusting demonstrated that they didn’t care if we enjoyed it or not. It wasn’t about us; it was all about them.
It seemed hopeless. I was so desperate for my next slave-gasm. It was the only thing that mattered as I evolved into a pathetic pleasure slut. The traitor to true womanhood that I so despised growing up. After less than twenty minutes on the bench, I began to sympathize with the plight of these sluts everywhere around the world as my nightmare continued. I was starting to miss Julian Bennet, the last guy to give me a slave-gasm, how pathetic was that, then my luck changed.
“Let these two jump in here. I need to get them back to their father in the VIP section on Broadway. The birthday boy gets this slut’s mouth,” ordered the authoritative voice of Master Darwin as the men made way for them.
“How come Mom lets us do this?” asked the handsome, athletic young man, stepping forward. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
“Honestly, coming to the Christmas Coed auction with Dad and Uncle Clint is the only reason I come home from school for Thanksgiving,” chuckled the entitled voice of the young man behind me, running his hands possessively over my firm ass. “So, that’s what I told her, and here we are.”
The young hunk unbuckled his belt and pants, unzipped his fly, and dropped his jeans, freeing a respectable six-inch erection. I watched as a youthful dollop of delicious precum oozed out inches away from my face. I hadn’t seen one this big in a while and couldn’t help licking my lips in anticipation.
Oh, how I hoped his big brother was truly “big” in every sense of the word as I became a size queen of sorts. His strong yet gentle hands start lovingly exploring the contours of my ass that had me humming inside in no time. The slut in me groaned in frustration, wanting him to get down to business without further delay, like the slave mongers. He lacked their sense of urgency. He wasn’t courting me, and he didn’t need to seduce me, but suddenly it felt like he was, whether he needed to or not.
Suddenly, my deluded lust-filled imagination ran wild, envisioning my studly prince charming here to rescue this damsel in distress, satisfying all my sexual needs in the process. Ok, so in my fairy tale, I’m a slutty damsel who needed to feel my prince’s hard cock exploring the slick folds of my pussy, seeking the entrance like a heat-seeking missile, and then lovingly mining the depths of my vagina. I’m not a size queen like Charlene, and I do not require my prince to be anything like Master Darwin, Brock, or Mr. McAllister. Something the size of Ted, or dare I say, Julian, would best meet my current needs.
I let out my best playful, high-pitched, lustful squeal of delight, certifying my newfound pleasure slut status. "Damn, you are so BIG!" I managed to gush in exaggerated awe while breathing heavily, opening my mouth eagerly, holding my tongue out while looking up at the young man in front of me with my best goo-goo eyes.
My prince, still admiring the firmness of my glutes, commented in awe, “Belinda Craig’s got a banging bootie, a real moneymaker. Better than I ever imagined. I’m going to enjoy this.”
A surge of pride flowed through me. My prince thought I was hot. Although his wording could have been more eloquent.
While cupping my butt cheeks, he sighed with a tone of reverence, “I’m going to be the last man to see his cock buried between these two perfect, pristine cheeks, unblemished by a brand.”
A surge of dread coursed through my body as I momentarily pictured the Big D badge being burned into my ass before dissipating into an afterthought as he jiggled the butt plug lodged in my ass just right. Churning my insides with the added stimulation, making it hard to think clearly. I recognized that voice but still couldn’t place him. The imaginary savior behind me, checking my ass for firmness, knew me from somewhere, but how? The humiliation from not knowing was spiking my arousal if that was even possible in my current libidinous state.
Snapping me back to the here and now, he advised, “Wade, remember to slap her in the face a few times to show her who’s in charge. Just like Dad instructed.”
Grinning down at me, the young hunk fisted the hair at the back of my head, turning my head up, holding me in place, and slapping me in my face with his hard cock to the amusement of the assortment of wranglers waiting their turn. First over my cheeks, then my forehead, and then over my mouth. Wade ran his tip against my outstretched tongue so that his precum was mixed with my saliva, before smearing it, adding to the mess already coating my face. I couldn't help myself, moaning like a needy slut as I eagerly tried to catch his penis in my mouth like a puppy playing with a new chew toy.
Meanwhile, I stretched my bottom out as far as it would go, even wiggling my “moneymaker” enticingly while arching my back and spreading my legs a little bit to give the gentleman behind me better access. I waited impatiently for my prince to get down to business, my pussy aching with need. A pair of confident, strong hands grasped my buttocks and stretched them painfully wide apart, putting my swollen, leaking lady bits on lewd display. I groaned at his touch like the bitch in heat I had become, hoping he would be the one to deliver me to the promised land.
Instead, a masculine voice laced with disgust suddenly exclaimed, “Damn it, I hate going last, this slut’s cock slot is leaking cooter cream all over the place. She needs a good cleaning with an industrial-strength Vaggivac.”
I felt myself blushing beet red at his comments. I mean, people could hear him. He was right, though; a mixture of semen, lube, and my overabundant vaginal fluids had been leaking down my thighs ever since Ted finished in me. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a small puddle under me by now.
“Shit, she’s dripped all over the floor,” he added, laughing now. He sounded familiar, but I still couldn’t quite place him as he continued with an air of familiarity. “Oh, Belinda, what a dirty little slut you’ve become.” Before sarcastically adding, “What happened to the entitled little debutante I once knew?”
“Lick it, lick everything in front of you. Just your tongue,” commanded young Wade, exhibiting an air of authority that surprised me, making my pussy tingle in a good way.
Wade fisted my hair, holding my head in place, preventing me from looking back to see who was behind me, who knew my name. I licked his penis all over with my wet, warm tongue. I strived to please him as he collaborated with me, maneuvering and giving me access, all while preventing me from looking back, adding to my frustration, … and arousal.
I eagerly slid my flattened tongue along the side of his cock, then over the top of it to the other side, licking back to the head. Enjoying the muskiness of his penis and relishing in the tasty precum oozing out of the tip. I could tell he ate a healthy diet from the flavor. This one had even bathed, unlike the coarse older slave mongers, making it better for me. I worked my way down to his hairy balls, eagerly lavishing them with my wet tongue, coating them with my abundant saliva, and then working my way back up to the tip, giving it a big wet kiss while lapping up the delicious treat oozing out, making him moan in pleasure.
Behind me, my prince moved into position with his left hand on my hip, holding me securely in place. Suddenly, a cock head smacked up against my super-sensitive labia from below, causing me to squeal in surprise. He did it a few more times, hard enough to sting a little, sending delicious tingling sensations coursing through my loins. This teasing had my pussy throbbing even more in anticipation. Then, with a last particularly forceful blow, he struck my exposed, sensitive clitoris like a hammer hitting a nail, sending a tremendous erotic jolt throughout my body that took my breath away.
Catching me by surprise, the hunk in front of me took that opportunity to push his big dick into my mouth, pushing past my teeth like they were just a mild inconvenience. He wasn’t subtle in any way, forcing his whole shaft into my poor little mouth, making me gag and choke for real this time. He roughly thrust in and out a couple of times before pulling out and slapping me in the face a few more times for good measure, which, if I’m honest, had lost its charm, getting really old by now. All I wanted was to wrap my lips around his hard cock and earn my reward.
The next thing I knew, the guy behind me confidently lined up with my hole. I almost swooned from the swarm of delicious tingling sensations enveloping my labia when my prince gently rubbed his fat cockhead up and down my drenched slit, seeking my opening. I kept my back arched, giving him better access to the entrance to my womb.
I felt a brief pressure on my opening, then that wonderful, wicked stretch and smooth, warm sliding feeling of his shaft filling my well-lubricated, still tight little hole that easily adjusted to accommodate his size. Acting like a considerate lover, he started slowly pushing in and out, each time going just a little bit deeper, giving me more of his shaft with each thrust. I wanted him deeper, needing his full length, suddenly curious as to how deep he could go. Instead, he took his time allowing me to adjust to him while mining my depths, demonstrating his mastery of me.
This time, I was ready when that penis pushed into my mouth, eagerly inhaling him to the root with no problem. He wasn’t anything close to as challenging as Master Darwin or Mr. McAllister. The cock in my pussy finally bottomed out, stretching me nicely, but not too much, rivaling Ted for the closest thing to a perfect fit if such a thing existed. I was lucky. This slutty damsel in distress was being rescued by her chivalrous Prince Charming, or the closest thing to that ideal that I would ever encounter in the bowels of the Big D Slave Market.
With an air of familiarity, and without missing a stroke, the gentleman making love to me announced, “Damn, Belinda Craig’s a natural cock gobbler. I can’t believe how tight her slave snatch is.”
Not exactly the most romantic thing to say, but for me, his actions said more than his words. I was dying to know his identity, but I couldn’t rotate my head to look back to see who he was, held in place as I was with six inches of rock-hard cock pushing into my throat. With my mystery gentleman’s identity unresolved, both cocks started thrusting, picking up speed, demonstrating an urgency that hadn’t existed until this point. The perfect cock in my pussy sawed in and out at just the right angle and pace, repeatedly hitting the mark on my special spot. I had been edged long enough; a strong orgasm had been smoldering for a while, and it was going to erupt this time. I just knew it!
I attacked the cock in my mouth, lavishing it with my tongue right on the sweet spot on the underside right below the head, with my lips tightly wrapped around it with a vise-like grip. I wanted to make him pop quickly, and my wish came true when it started pulsing, filling my mouth with five to six large strands of tasty cum. Yeah, I’d acquired the taste just like Mama said I would.
“Don’t swallow!” cruelly ordered my haughty prince while fucking me good, his thrusts becoming more urgent.
Somehow, my Prince Charming maintained a delicate balance between forcefully demonstrating his mastery of me while being considerate of my needs. The whole time maintaining his rhythmic thrusts that were quickly pushing me towards my impending slave-gasm.
Gripping my hair, my mystery man gently pulled my head back, angling my body back towards him, arching my back in the process much like one would position a mannequin. Stripping off what little anonymity I had hidden sandwiched between my two slave sisters. Proudly putting me on full display, holding me up like a trophy for all to see, with my firm titties jutting out in front of me, allowing the hunk whose load I displayed on my tongue to begin mauling them. No, it was more massaging and playfully rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingers with an occasional hard pinch or forceful tug, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my loins that complemented the hard cock perfectly, seesawing in and out of my womb.
Now I stood out like a sore thumb, becoming the center of attention, showing off the slimy prize obscenely displayed on my tongue that, with an accumulation of saliva, was starting to drop out of the sides of my mouth onto my chest. The added humiliation from this lewd display only further fueled the fire in my overheating loins. His antics drew some cheers and jeers from the coarse crowd in the room as the mixture of cum and saliva began dropping out of the sides of my mouth coated my bouncing breasts as he picked up the intensity fucking me harder, faster, and deeper.
“Damn, check out that pair of torpedoes,” drawled one older slave wrangler.
“That’s what I call a trophy fuck,” exclaimed the excited voice of younger male.
An older monger drawled, “Slut’s drool is glazin’ her donuts.”
“Gross, she’s slobbering splooge on my hand,” whined my Prince’s younger brother before giving both my nipples one last hard delightfully painful squeeze before releasing them and taking a step back.
I was too far gone to care what they said since this new position with my back arched added to the stimulation from the hard pole rubbing back and forth over my special spot. My prince knew his business.
“That feels good, doesn’t it, Belinda? You’re enjoying this,” he confidently stated.
That was an understatement; I had ascended to heaven, and my Prince wasn’t even breathing hard. He was in total control of my body, playing me like a concert musician would his instrument in front of an audience in a concert hall. In this case, his spectators consisted of a bunch of horny slave mongers and a handful of VIPs. Proving that chivalry was not dead, my maestro reached around with his free hand, polishing my pearl with a delicate touch, indicating this wasn’t his first rodeo, giving me the release I craved while commanding, “Swallow.”
Simultaneously, I happily gulped down the semen and erupted in my frenzy. Eruption would be an understatement. My insides imploded as my slave-gasm exploded with an unforeseen intensity.
My orgasm had been building up strength deep in my core for some time now, the pressure increasing much like the magma of a volcano before bursting. The taste sensations on my tongue, coupled with swallowing the cum added to the intensity, becoming the icing on the cake compared to all the other stimulation my body was receiving. Then there was the added humiliation of being held up in this awkward position with my slime coated titties jiggling, shuddering with bliss as I climaxed before the small crowd in the room, passionately crying out like a hound dog baying to the moon as I squirted onto the ground below me. Intense waves of passion surged through my trembling body, and I saw waves of assorted colors of red, orange, and pink with sparkles as I enjoyed another intense slave-gasm.
Forcefully, yet gently, my head was pushed down as if I was bowing before my prince, who held me firmly in place as I writhed in pleasure, riding out my frenzy as he tensed, his thrusts became more urgent as he ground his crotch into me while his cock pulsed, depositing his load into the convulsing depths of my vagina. He held me that way as he finished with me while my frenzy ran its course, finally pulling out and leaving me exhausted, panting in a sexual stupor. I swear, it felt like I was having an out-of-body experience.
Lost in my slave haze, I vaguely heard Master Darwin say, “That sluts all fucked out. Pull her off, we have some tight Asian nookie up next.”
Strong hands grabbed me by the arms, peeling me up off the leather bench, and turned me around. Sumi was standing there waiting impatiently to take my place, her eyes popping out in a combination of disbelief at my condition, … and jealousy. That night before the auction, she’d often bragged about wanting to get fucked senseless on the breeding bench until she was nice and cock drunk. It looked like her wish was about to cum true.
I felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment at getting pulled off the bench before my time. I couldn’t believe I still wanted more, but I did. What did that say about me?
In the blink of an eye, that horny girl eagerly took my place, throwing herself onto the breeding bench, squealing with excitement. What a slut, but who was I to judge her or any other slave girl after having myself just sexually served easily a dozen or more men in less than half an hour?
“Hey Fred, there’s no anal plug in this one, so it's open season on her back door,” drawled a large white forty-something wrangler with an acne scarred face, a dad body, his blonde hair cut in a crew cut, standing nearby, waiting his turn next to a shorter, stocky, bald black man with a goatee in his mid-thirties.
This guy who had to be Fred, replied, “We’ll give her dookie hole the old double donkey-punch,” sounding like he meant business before chuckling, “Remember, it’s my turn to go first, George.”
Sounding mildly disappointed, George good-naturedly replied while sounding resigned to going second, sighed, “It’s more fun to go first, and open’em up.”
While twerking her ass enticingly, Sumi seductively squealed, “Ooh, fuck my ass, Masters, fuck it hard,” using a high-pitched Japanese porn starlet's voice that was music to men’s ears worldwide.
"Start begging me to fuck your dirtbox, slave girl," Fred sneered, slapping her hard on her ass a couple of times as he moved into position before dropping his pants.
Sumi couldn’t get his cock up her ass fast enough, showing her true colors, challenging him, “I want to feel it, make it burn!”
The older wrangler holding me up on wobbly legs, grinned down at Sumi, drawling, “Don’t worry your pretty head none darlin', y’all get yer rusty sheriff's badge smashed in right quick. Ole Fred and George here, they’ll make it buuurrnn before creamin’ in your Texas chili pot.”
Fred turned to the side, giving me a view of his impressive erection, saying, “George, throw me that lube. This bitch’s leather cheerio is tight, but it’s pulling on my finger like an old pro. This won’t be her first anal rodeo.”
That experienced slave wrangler sure had Sumi pegged. She confided last night during our talk with Mama that when in the right mood, she was a total butt slut delighting in the intensity of anal sex more than traditional vaginal sex. Mama did it again that night, embarrassing me to no end when agreeing with Sumi that the burn of first penetration was like nothing else. Well, Sumi was in the right state of mind for what was about to happen to her.
Feeling a little jealous, not wanting to watch Sumi enjoying herself while I was sidelined, I looked around, noticing for the first time Jake Taylor standing next to Kayden McAllister, his face flushed from recent exertion, nonchalantly zipping up his fly. Putting two and two together, I recognized his voice as that of my Prince who had just fucked me senseless.
Jake was the older brother of fellow debutante Tiffany Taylor and served as an Honor Guard member with Kayden. I had a mini crush on him that night, dancing a few times with him during the ball, and was disappointed when he never called afterwards. Now his semen, along with countless others, was oozing out of my well fucked pussy and starting to run down the inside of my thigh.
An excited Garrett Hamilton burst into the room, suddenly freezing with a shocked look on his ruggedly handsome face while taking me in. Taking all of me in. Examining me from head to foot, his eyes finally settled on mine as we stared hungrily at each other. He couldn’t disguise his initial disgust, or was it disappointment, even as a sexual desire burned hot in his gaze, causing me to blush, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Garrett’s shoulders slumped, sounding upset, or was it regret, exclaiming, “Damn, I’m too late. What happened to her?”
“What happened to her?” incredulously exclaimed the crusty old wrangler holding my arm.
Another monger piped up teasing poor Garrett, “Hey Captain Obvious. Don’t they teach you college boys nothin’. This slut just swallowed over a half dozen loads of baby batter and another good half dozen or more are leakin’ out of her used-up honey pot. That’s what happened to her.”
Sounding apologetic, Master Darwin explained, “Sorry, son, this slave girl is all fucked out. Had to take her off the bench for her own good. You can go next on the fresh piece of slave pussy in the middle if you want.”
Kayden suggested, “Middle slut’s ass wasn’t plugged so you can pick your hole.”
Jake Taylor was trying to be helpful, but just sounded snarky, adding, “Ms. Craig was leakin’ cooter cream like all get out when I went last. A real swamp monster. It sucks going last before they pull’em off the bench.”
“Trick is, you want to get to the head of the line with a fresh piece of ass, avoiding a sloppy slave snatch like this one,” added Kayden, nodding in my direction for emphasis.
I was just standing there; my “sloppy slave snatch” had been repeatedly fucked so many times that it was still throbbing. Tremors from my last orgasm still coursed through my body, the evidence of my recent breeding was oozing out, and my only thought was that they could bend me over that vacant table across the room and let Garrett have a go at me. Somehow, I still wanted more, especially from him. Lost in my sexual stupor, I just couldn’t enunciate the words to express myself while these men continued talking around me.
Fred, the slave wrangler behind Sumi got my attention by loudly announcing to the room, “Time for some anal carnage in this slave's rusty sheriff’s badge!”
Glancing back in their direction, I watched Fred violently thrusting his hips forward, spearing Sumi with his horse cock balls deep in one fluid stroke. “That was going to burn for sure, and the slut’ll probably love it,” was my first thought.
Sumi’s loud howl of delight confirmed my suspicion. Her squeals of pleasure were abruptly muffled by another wrangler’s cock filling her mouth; I knew the feeling. I swear you could still hear Sumi’s happy, high-pitched cries even with a cock in her mouth. She had me clenching the plug in my ass while wishing I were her, sending new tingles surging through my body as I lost focus, fanaticizing about getting a hard cock in the ass. Would I enjoy it as much as my friends? I sure thought so.
“They just put that nookie in the middle between the other two sluts on the bench. You can go after Fred and George butt-bang her good. The slut on her left will get rotated out next. That tall blonde slave pussy standing there will take her place. Your choice,” added Master Darwin, referring to my pledge sister Ainsley, giving Garrett his best options.
George interjected, elbowing Garrett in a friendly manner while confidently laughing, "Son, you have not lived until you have pulverized a squealing slave's rusty wagon wheel. Just listen to this experienced skank; music to my ears!"
Referring to Ainsley the old monger holding my arm drawled, “That tall blonde ain’t plugged neither. It’s open season on her backdoor.”
Garrett’s disappointment at missing out on me was evident in his tone when glancing around with disgust, he replied, “Naw, no thanks Mr. Washington. I was really looking forward to Belinda,” right before quickly turning on his heel and rushing out of the room without another word. Sumi’s cries of pleasure filled the room joining the contented moans and squeals of the girls getting shafted.
My heart felt for Garrett. I tried calling after him, the distress on my face evident as my mouth moved, not making a coherent sound. Grinning, Jake winked at me, causing me to blush a little more if that was even possible as the old slave monger whisked me out of the room on wobbly legs, down a hallway, and into a room where I was confronted by the blast of hot air and the stench of burning flesh and urine.
(To be Continued.)
These men all assumed that because we were slaves, they were using us for their pleasure, but they were wrong; the opposite was true. Legalized slavery had resulted in a double standard regarding what constituted appropriate sexual behavior for men and women. Men were encouraged to use female slaves sexually while it was perceived as unladylike for women to do the same. Wearing a collar transformed us into sex toys for our male betters. Men assumed that former female slaves were forced to sexually serve their betters, thus allowing them to retain a vestige of honor due to the nonconsensual relationship between master and slave.
Reality couldn’t be further from the truth as many women used this perception in their favor. Wearing a slave collar freed me to partake in all the decadent, socially acceptable sexual activities for men that a good girl naturally shunned. As a pleasure slut I was expected to serve these men, and I found myself thriving at it. I was like a kid in a candy store. Suddenly, I couldn’t get enough sex as I waited impatiently to be bred again on that bench, having man after man empty his balls in my pussy as I hopefully climaxed right along with them each time, if not more often. What did my future hold now that this new me had awakened?
The sand between my toes from the auction block was a constant reminder that none of these free men would experience the intensity of my block-gasms when they climaxed into one of us, and I was still going strong. I was sinking into a sexual delirium, chasing pleasure solely focused on the sensations from the cocks pistoning in my mouth and pussy, attaining another orgasm was the only thing that mattered.
Before me, another slave wrangler was already stepping up, replacing his predecessor. This one was younger, a heavily tattooed Hispanic with a pockmarked face, his fully erect, angry-looking cock bobbing in the air, dribbling precum from the bulbous head peeking out, partially hidden by his foreskin. Oh my, this was my first uncircumcised penis.
He fisted my hair, roughly shoving himself into my slick, eager mouth without hesitation, disrespectfully muttering, “Puta” under his breath.
The tattooed man was rougher than the other two, using both hands to hold my head still and fuck my defenseless mouth with the quick, messy thrusts of a man in a hurry. Shocked at the harsh treatment, I gagged, my eyes watering a little more from surprise at the force rather than the size of his maybe five-inch shaft. I didn’t resist him at all, finding his aggressive treatment intoxicating in a way. I stayed obediently in role, lavishing his shaft with my tongue as best as I could with my hands still bound tightly behind my back, my face already streaked with spit and cum as I eagerly sought his load with my lips tightly wrapped around his silky-smooth warm shaft.
Next up behind me was one of the fatties. I could tell when he grabbed me at the hip with one hand, and I could feel him leaning over me, maneuvering his large gut out of the way on top of my buttocks and lower back while his erection sought the entrance to my womb. Even flying blind, he quickly homed in on his target. One hand grabbed me by the shoulder, his other hand on my hip, holding me in place, while positioning his cock against my sopping wet folds, searching for the entrance. Feeling his mushroom head lined up to my vagina, I impatiently pushed back as best I could, telling him he was there, hoping to guide it in.
He didn't need my encouragement. His bulbous head bursting through my slick opening, he grabbed my hips with both hands, slamming the length of his shaft into me. I gasped from the sudden entry as he started moving and then began ruthlessly pounding into me. I could only cry out around the other man’s shaft in my mouth as the fat stud fucking me took what he wanted while giving me what I needed.
This time was different; faster, rougher. He was a stranger using me for his pleasure; I didn’t even know what he looked like. I was a piece of anonymous slave pussy, and he was fucking me with one thing on his mind. His penis wasn’t as big as the previous two, but it was big enough to rock my world. He gripped my hips, pistoning his cock into me like a fucking machine, as I prayed he would turn on my butt plug. I missed the added vibrations. In no time, he was gasping for breath from his exertion.
Sounds were coming out of me that I didn't recognize, short gasps and high-pitched squeals that were partially muffled by the cock in my mouth. I was crying out with the pleasure of being taken in this rudimentary manner by these total strangers. I didn’t know their names, and they didn’t know mine. I was nothing more than a nameless cumdump for these men to use to get off before they had to get back to work. This realization was mortifying to my self-image as a good girl while oh so sexually intoxicating as their penises forcefully thrust into my openings.
The fat man’s pistoning thrusts slowed to a deliberate in and out as I angled my hips so that he hit my magic spot, each motion sending shock waves through me. I was a rag doll, I was a toy, I could feel every inch sliding into me, bottoming out, then pulling out so only the head remained lodged within me, pausing as the winded man caught his breath. It was like momentarily being caught in the eye of a hurricane before once more being consumed by the raging storm. The onslaught continued when he pushed back in and started thrusting hard and fast once more, failing to turn on the vibrator, much to my dismay.
Both of his strong hands were on my hips, digging in, likely to leave bruises behind, holding me tight for his rapid thrusts. I angled my pussy, clenching his shaft, trying to get his fat head rubbing against my G spot. That completely overloaded my already fevered brain and forced a long, tortured cry out of me. I was getting railed, fucked like a dirty little slave girl, hard, fast, and deep, and loving every moment of it.
The man I was sucking moaned loudly, crying out, “Mamacita,” as he shot four large strings of thick, chunky cum into my eager mouth. Everyone in the room was watching me get nailed, get pounded like a little slut, fucked so hard I almost couldn't catch my breath with my lips wrapped tightly around the cock filling my mouth with his cum.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore except that glorious cock pistoning in my pussy. I could feel his thighs tense and his cock become like an iron rod, constantly teasing my G spot in short, little, inconsistent herkie-jerky thrusts. His hands gripped me tightly as his orgasm approached.
The man in my mouth pulled out with a grunt, smearing his wet cock across my flushed cheeks, adding to the mess already coating my face before bestowing one more indignity upon me after I displayed his slimy gift on my tongue and swallowed. He gripped my hair hard, yanking my head back and slapping his messy cock across my cheeks, back and forth, making the small audience in the room roar with approval.
Silly me, I tried capturing his cock in my mouth, hoping for another drop of his yummy cum, having acquired a taste for the substance. Was I becoming addicted to this stuff? I couldn’t seem to get enough of it. My cheeks flushed from the added humiliation almost pushed me over the edge into my next frenzy.
The orgasm forming deep in my core was close to breaking free. I was so close I could almost taste it. Just a little bit more. I was almost there, trying to increase the stimulation to my special spot while holding out hope that the fat man would kindly reach around and massage my neglected clitty just like Ted and Julian had. A sound came out of me resembling the anguished cry of an animal as my vagina clenched his shaft, convulsing around his cock for added stimulation as he unloaded into me, my hips tilting back to take it. His urgent, jerky thrusts and grinding pushed me towards a release that never came.
Another wrangler presented me with his hard, strange, misshapen cock, stifling my groans of disappointment as I sucked his tool into my mouth. It was five inches long and thin, a skinny shaft capped with a proportionally larger head than normal, almost resembling a hammer. How I associated it with a hammer, I would never know. I focused my efforts with my tongue on that big mushroom head, and if his moans and jerking hips were any indication, he liked what I was doing.
I was left hoping the fatty would reach around and flip my ignition button, sending me into orbit to join him in his release, but alas, it was not to be. I learned another difficult lesson today: The hard life of a pleasure slut chasing her slave-gasm only to be denied by an uncaring Master like this loser. I suddenly hated this guy with a vengeance. I’d done my part; why couldn’t he do me a solid?
The fat man pumped everything he had into me, grinding his cock deeper, holding it there as my pussy spasmed around it until he finished with me. I pushed back against him, trying to squeeze his cock with the muscles in my pussy, milking every drop out of him like a good pleasure slut. Or at least my impression of how one would behave, still unrealistically hoping he’d reach around and get me off. I learned the powerful lesson that keeps a pleasure slut going. Hope, hope that the next Master will reward her with an orgasm. The only thing I got this time around was a mouthful of semen from the hammer cock guy.
Wheezing, trying to catch his breath, his deflating cock no longer pulsing, the fat wrangler managed to announce to the room, “Fuck’n hot …, slave snatch!”
His sweaty belly that had, in a way, been pinning me to the breeding bench slid off my ass when he pulled out his shriveled cock. He grunted, slapping my ass hard in farewell, or was it thanks for a job well done, hoarsely calling out, “Next! This twat is nice and tight.”
Another wrangler filled my mouth with his average-sized, unclean dick. Didn’t he know what soap was as I lavished his cock with my tongue, hoping to get him leaking to improve the taste in my mouth. My empty pussy throbbed needily. I didn’t have to wait long when rough callused hands spread my cheeks wide apart. Fingers probed briefly, just enough to feel how loose and slick I already was, then a pointy, thin cock pressed against my hole.
This man didn't waste time. With a grunt, he pushed in as deep as he could, which wasn’t far, his big balls slapping against my pussy. I moaned in disappointment; his penis was so small I wondered if Bobby Shepard had a twin that was fucking me as I futilely tried clamping down on him as best I could. Desperately trying to improve the friction to get him off while hoping for a reach around. He was not so considerate, quickly exploding in my pussy, leaving his discharge behind when he pulled out at about the same time as the cock in my mouth gifted me yet another load of bitter, salty cum that I obediently displayed on my tongue.
My muffled cry of disappointment was swallowed by yet another cock filling my mouth, allowing me to fake gagging. His five-inch cock was nothing to write home about. Looking up at him, I locked eyes with Aaron Fulgham, another classmate from last year. What was this, a high school reunion at the Big D Slave Market?
With my eyes pleading for mercy, I mixed in some phony gagging sounds, making it appear that his shaft was choking me. It was music to Aaron’s ears. He grinned, giving me a moment of respite before grabbing my head and aggressively face fucking some more.
I’m not sure how the boy I knew from high school had in six short months become a confident slave wrangler at the Big D. Oily acne-faced Aaron used to be a soft-spoken loner with a stutter who blushed every time a girl talked to him. Amanda and some of the other girls teased him incessantly. Not anymore.
Grinning evilly down at me with my lips wrapped around his shaft, he ordered, “Keep your eyes open, I want to see them tearing up every time you choke on my cock.”
With his hands pushing against the back of my head, he shoved his hips forward even more, forcing me right up against his soft stomach with my nose buried in his pubes with his balls against my chin, leaving me unable to see anything. Now he was using my mouth as his fucktoy, and I ate it up.
“Eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you?” he sneered, pulling his average-sized cock out and slapping me in the face with it while verbally raining down a torrent of horrid names upon me for everyone to hear. “Slut, fucktoy, bitch, cum dump, whore, cock sleeve, human fleshlight, tramp, whore, fucktoy,” he ranted, repeating himself when he ran out of foul new names for me, much to the amusement of the small group of older wranglers watching.
It was so humiliating, and I loved it, eagerly sucking his cock when he jammed it back into my mouth wanting him to gift me a mouthful of his warm slimy discharge. He continued his demeaning tirade the whole time, thinking he was humbling me. If he only knew how much his unhinged verbal abuse had the opposite result.
Sixty seconds of verbal abuse later, I ended up with half his penis in my mouth. My lips tightly gripped around his shaft as I sucked hard, keeping my tongue flat against his cock, sticking it out, running down his pole, and back up, swirling it around his head. He didn’t last long. I ran my tongue back and forth on the sensitive underside, right below the helmet. I could feel him tense with pleasure when I concentrated on this one particular spot, until he came. Spewing strand after strand of thick, slimy cum filling me to overflowing, oozing out the sides of my mouth, leaving strands hanging from the sides of my chin when he finally pulled out.
“Look at you. A cum hungry slut,” he sneered, rubbing his cock in my face, accompanied by more demeaning taunts until he wiped it off in my hair, and he was gone.
Another man immediately took his place, feeding me another diminutive penis. Taking him into my mouth, I flattened my tongue and aggressively began stroking it against the bottom part of his cock just below the head, eliciting a contented grunt from him. I’d found my sweet spot. I’d inhale it to the root and work my way back up, lavishing the shaft with my wet, warm tongue. When I got to the top, I’d tease the helmet, applying suction around it while homing in on that special spot where the shaft meets the head. I was learning that most men didn’t last long that way.
Behind me, another man had pressed into my slick, oozing hole without hesitation. The thrusts started hard and fast, not deep enough, though, as I hoped he would cum quickly so that the next in line could take his turn with me. He did not disappoint in that regard, as he was done in record time, mercilessly slamming into my buttocks, trying to get deeper inside of me as he deposited his load, followed shortly afterwards by another load in my mouth as I honed my rapidly improving oral skills.
By now, I was lost in a complete sexual haze, experiencing a state of overwhelming insatiable lust. Every task felt mechanical, and I had difficulty staying present or focusing on what was happening around me, other than achieving another climax. It was just me and the men using my mouth and pussy, the means to an end for all of us. I had become a greedy pleasure slut absorbed with attaining my next slave-gasm. Nothing else mattered now as my frustration built after a series of forgettable losers.
These slave mongers were not making love to the beautiful debutante delicately draped submissively over the breeding bench. No, it was pure animalistic fucking, these men didn’t have time for foreplay with only a fifteen-minute break. The urgency of their thrusting demonstrated that they didn’t care if we enjoyed it or not. It wasn’t about us; it was all about them.
It seemed hopeless. I was so desperate for my next slave-gasm. It was the only thing that mattered as I evolved into a pathetic pleasure slut. The traitor to true womanhood that I so despised growing up. After less than twenty minutes on the bench, I began to sympathize with the plight of these sluts everywhere around the world as my nightmare continued. I was starting to miss Julian Bennet, the last guy to give me a slave-gasm, how pathetic was that, then my luck changed.
“Let these two jump in here. I need to get them back to their father in the VIP section on Broadway. The birthday boy gets this slut’s mouth,” ordered the authoritative voice of Master Darwin as the men made way for them.
“How come Mom lets us do this?” asked the handsome, athletic young man, stepping forward. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
“Honestly, coming to the Christmas Coed auction with Dad and Uncle Clint is the only reason I come home from school for Thanksgiving,” chuckled the entitled voice of the young man behind me, running his hands possessively over my firm ass. “So, that’s what I told her, and here we are.”
The young hunk unbuckled his belt and pants, unzipped his fly, and dropped his jeans, freeing a respectable six-inch erection. I watched as a youthful dollop of delicious precum oozed out inches away from my face. I hadn’t seen one this big in a while and couldn’t help licking my lips in anticipation.
Oh, how I hoped his big brother was truly “big” in every sense of the word as I became a size queen of sorts. His strong yet gentle hands start lovingly exploring the contours of my ass that had me humming inside in no time. The slut in me groaned in frustration, wanting him to get down to business without further delay, like the slave mongers. He lacked their sense of urgency. He wasn’t courting me, and he didn’t need to seduce me, but suddenly it felt like he was, whether he needed to or not.
Suddenly, my deluded lust-filled imagination ran wild, envisioning my studly prince charming here to rescue this damsel in distress, satisfying all my sexual needs in the process. Ok, so in my fairy tale, I’m a slutty damsel who needed to feel my prince’s hard cock exploring the slick folds of my pussy, seeking the entrance like a heat-seeking missile, and then lovingly mining the depths of my vagina. I’m not a size queen like Charlene, and I do not require my prince to be anything like Master Darwin, Brock, or Mr. McAllister. Something the size of Ted, or dare I say, Julian, would best meet my current needs.
I let out my best playful, high-pitched, lustful squeal of delight, certifying my newfound pleasure slut status. "Damn, you are so BIG!" I managed to gush in exaggerated awe while breathing heavily, opening my mouth eagerly, holding my tongue out while looking up at the young man in front of me with my best goo-goo eyes.
My prince, still admiring the firmness of my glutes, commented in awe, “Belinda Craig’s got a banging bootie, a real moneymaker. Better than I ever imagined. I’m going to enjoy this.”
A surge of pride flowed through me. My prince thought I was hot. Although his wording could have been more eloquent.
While cupping my butt cheeks, he sighed with a tone of reverence, “I’m going to be the last man to see his cock buried between these two perfect, pristine cheeks, unblemished by a brand.”
A surge of dread coursed through my body as I momentarily pictured the Big D badge being burned into my ass before dissipating into an afterthought as he jiggled the butt plug lodged in my ass just right. Churning my insides with the added stimulation, making it hard to think clearly. I recognized that voice but still couldn’t place him. The imaginary savior behind me, checking my ass for firmness, knew me from somewhere, but how? The humiliation from not knowing was spiking my arousal if that was even possible in my current libidinous state.
Snapping me back to the here and now, he advised, “Wade, remember to slap her in the face a few times to show her who’s in charge. Just like Dad instructed.”
Grinning down at me, the young hunk fisted the hair at the back of my head, turning my head up, holding me in place, and slapping me in my face with his hard cock to the amusement of the assortment of wranglers waiting their turn. First over my cheeks, then my forehead, and then over my mouth. Wade ran his tip against my outstretched tongue so that his precum was mixed with my saliva, before smearing it, adding to the mess already coating my face. I couldn't help myself, moaning like a needy slut as I eagerly tried to catch his penis in my mouth like a puppy playing with a new chew toy.
Meanwhile, I stretched my bottom out as far as it would go, even wiggling my “moneymaker” enticingly while arching my back and spreading my legs a little bit to give the gentleman behind me better access. I waited impatiently for my prince to get down to business, my pussy aching with need. A pair of confident, strong hands grasped my buttocks and stretched them painfully wide apart, putting my swollen, leaking lady bits on lewd display. I groaned at his touch like the bitch in heat I had become, hoping he would be the one to deliver me to the promised land.
Instead, a masculine voice laced with disgust suddenly exclaimed, “Damn it, I hate going last, this slut’s cock slot is leaking cooter cream all over the place. She needs a good cleaning with an industrial-strength Vaggivac.”
I felt myself blushing beet red at his comments. I mean, people could hear him. He was right, though; a mixture of semen, lube, and my overabundant vaginal fluids had been leaking down my thighs ever since Ted finished in me. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were a small puddle under me by now.
“Shit, she’s dripped all over the floor,” he added, laughing now. He sounded familiar, but I still couldn’t quite place him as he continued with an air of familiarity. “Oh, Belinda, what a dirty little slut you’ve become.” Before sarcastically adding, “What happened to the entitled little debutante I once knew?”
“Lick it, lick everything in front of you. Just your tongue,” commanded young Wade, exhibiting an air of authority that surprised me, making my pussy tingle in a good way.
Wade fisted my hair, holding my head in place, preventing me from looking back to see who was behind me, who knew my name. I licked his penis all over with my wet, warm tongue. I strived to please him as he collaborated with me, maneuvering and giving me access, all while preventing me from looking back, adding to my frustration, … and arousal.
I eagerly slid my flattened tongue along the side of his cock, then over the top of it to the other side, licking back to the head. Enjoying the muskiness of his penis and relishing in the tasty precum oozing out of the tip. I could tell he ate a healthy diet from the flavor. This one had even bathed, unlike the coarse older slave mongers, making it better for me. I worked my way down to his hairy balls, eagerly lavishing them with my wet tongue, coating them with my abundant saliva, and then working my way back up to the tip, giving it a big wet kiss while lapping up the delicious treat oozing out, making him moan in pleasure.
Behind me, my prince moved into position with his left hand on my hip, holding me securely in place. Suddenly, a cock head smacked up against my super-sensitive labia from below, causing me to squeal in surprise. He did it a few more times, hard enough to sting a little, sending delicious tingling sensations coursing through my loins. This teasing had my pussy throbbing even more in anticipation. Then, with a last particularly forceful blow, he struck my exposed, sensitive clitoris like a hammer hitting a nail, sending a tremendous erotic jolt throughout my body that took my breath away.
Catching me by surprise, the hunk in front of me took that opportunity to push his big dick into my mouth, pushing past my teeth like they were just a mild inconvenience. He wasn’t subtle in any way, forcing his whole shaft into my poor little mouth, making me gag and choke for real this time. He roughly thrust in and out a couple of times before pulling out and slapping me in the face a few more times for good measure, which, if I’m honest, had lost its charm, getting really old by now. All I wanted was to wrap my lips around his hard cock and earn my reward.
The next thing I knew, the guy behind me confidently lined up with my hole. I almost swooned from the swarm of delicious tingling sensations enveloping my labia when my prince gently rubbed his fat cockhead up and down my drenched slit, seeking my opening. I kept my back arched, giving him better access to the entrance to my womb.
I felt a brief pressure on my opening, then that wonderful, wicked stretch and smooth, warm sliding feeling of his shaft filling my well-lubricated, still tight little hole that easily adjusted to accommodate his size. Acting like a considerate lover, he started slowly pushing in and out, each time going just a little bit deeper, giving me more of his shaft with each thrust. I wanted him deeper, needing his full length, suddenly curious as to how deep he could go. Instead, he took his time allowing me to adjust to him while mining my depths, demonstrating his mastery of me.
This time, I was ready when that penis pushed into my mouth, eagerly inhaling him to the root with no problem. He wasn’t anything close to as challenging as Master Darwin or Mr. McAllister. The cock in my pussy finally bottomed out, stretching me nicely, but not too much, rivaling Ted for the closest thing to a perfect fit if such a thing existed. I was lucky. This slutty damsel in distress was being rescued by her chivalrous Prince Charming, or the closest thing to that ideal that I would ever encounter in the bowels of the Big D Slave Market.
With an air of familiarity, and without missing a stroke, the gentleman making love to me announced, “Damn, Belinda Craig’s a natural cock gobbler. I can’t believe how tight her slave snatch is.”
Not exactly the most romantic thing to say, but for me, his actions said more than his words. I was dying to know his identity, but I couldn’t rotate my head to look back to see who he was, held in place as I was with six inches of rock-hard cock pushing into my throat. With my mystery gentleman’s identity unresolved, both cocks started thrusting, picking up speed, demonstrating an urgency that hadn’t existed until this point. The perfect cock in my pussy sawed in and out at just the right angle and pace, repeatedly hitting the mark on my special spot. I had been edged long enough; a strong orgasm had been smoldering for a while, and it was going to erupt this time. I just knew it!
I attacked the cock in my mouth, lavishing it with my tongue right on the sweet spot on the underside right below the head, with my lips tightly wrapped around it with a vise-like grip. I wanted to make him pop quickly, and my wish came true when it started pulsing, filling my mouth with five to six large strands of tasty cum. Yeah, I’d acquired the taste just like Mama said I would.
“Don’t swallow!” cruelly ordered my haughty prince while fucking me good, his thrusts becoming more urgent.
Somehow, my Prince Charming maintained a delicate balance between forcefully demonstrating his mastery of me while being considerate of my needs. The whole time maintaining his rhythmic thrusts that were quickly pushing me towards my impending slave-gasm.
Gripping my hair, my mystery man gently pulled my head back, angling my body back towards him, arching my back in the process much like one would position a mannequin. Stripping off what little anonymity I had hidden sandwiched between my two slave sisters. Proudly putting me on full display, holding me up like a trophy for all to see, with my firm titties jutting out in front of me, allowing the hunk whose load I displayed on my tongue to begin mauling them. No, it was more massaging and playfully rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingers with an occasional hard pinch or forceful tug, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my loins that complemented the hard cock perfectly, seesawing in and out of my womb.
Now I stood out like a sore thumb, becoming the center of attention, showing off the slimy prize obscenely displayed on my tongue that, with an accumulation of saliva, was starting to drop out of the sides of my mouth onto my chest. The added humiliation from this lewd display only further fueled the fire in my overheating loins. His antics drew some cheers and jeers from the coarse crowd in the room as the mixture of cum and saliva began dropping out of the sides of my mouth coated my bouncing breasts as he picked up the intensity fucking me harder, faster, and deeper.
“Damn, check out that pair of torpedoes,” drawled one older slave wrangler.
“That’s what I call a trophy fuck,” exclaimed the excited voice of younger male.
An older monger drawled, “Slut’s drool is glazin’ her donuts.”
“Gross, she’s slobbering splooge on my hand,” whined my Prince’s younger brother before giving both my nipples one last hard delightfully painful squeeze before releasing them and taking a step back.
I was too far gone to care what they said since this new position with my back arched added to the stimulation from the hard pole rubbing back and forth over my special spot. My prince knew his business.
“That feels good, doesn’t it, Belinda? You’re enjoying this,” he confidently stated.
That was an understatement; I had ascended to heaven, and my Prince wasn’t even breathing hard. He was in total control of my body, playing me like a concert musician would his instrument in front of an audience in a concert hall. In this case, his spectators consisted of a bunch of horny slave mongers and a handful of VIPs. Proving that chivalry was not dead, my maestro reached around with his free hand, polishing my pearl with a delicate touch, indicating this wasn’t his first rodeo, giving me the release I craved while commanding, “Swallow.”
Simultaneously, I happily gulped down the semen and erupted in my frenzy. Eruption would be an understatement. My insides imploded as my slave-gasm exploded with an unforeseen intensity.
My orgasm had been building up strength deep in my core for some time now, the pressure increasing much like the magma of a volcano before bursting. The taste sensations on my tongue, coupled with swallowing the cum added to the intensity, becoming the icing on the cake compared to all the other stimulation my body was receiving. Then there was the added humiliation of being held up in this awkward position with my slime coated titties jiggling, shuddering with bliss as I climaxed before the small crowd in the room, passionately crying out like a hound dog baying to the moon as I squirted onto the ground below me. Intense waves of passion surged through my trembling body, and I saw waves of assorted colors of red, orange, and pink with sparkles as I enjoyed another intense slave-gasm.
Forcefully, yet gently, my head was pushed down as if I was bowing before my prince, who held me firmly in place as I writhed in pleasure, riding out my frenzy as he tensed, his thrusts became more urgent as he ground his crotch into me while his cock pulsed, depositing his load into the convulsing depths of my vagina. He held me that way as he finished with me while my frenzy ran its course, finally pulling out and leaving me exhausted, panting in a sexual stupor. I swear, it felt like I was having an out-of-body experience.
Lost in my slave haze, I vaguely heard Master Darwin say, “That sluts all fucked out. Pull her off, we have some tight Asian nookie up next.”
Strong hands grabbed me by the arms, peeling me up off the leather bench, and turned me around. Sumi was standing there waiting impatiently to take my place, her eyes popping out in a combination of disbelief at my condition, … and jealousy. That night before the auction, she’d often bragged about wanting to get fucked senseless on the breeding bench until she was nice and cock drunk. It looked like her wish was about to cum true.
I felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment at getting pulled off the bench before my time. I couldn’t believe I still wanted more, but I did. What did that say about me?
In the blink of an eye, that horny girl eagerly took my place, throwing herself onto the breeding bench, squealing with excitement. What a slut, but who was I to judge her or any other slave girl after having myself just sexually served easily a dozen or more men in less than half an hour?
“Hey Fred, there’s no anal plug in this one, so it's open season on her back door,” drawled a large white forty-something wrangler with an acne scarred face, a dad body, his blonde hair cut in a crew cut, standing nearby, waiting his turn next to a shorter, stocky, bald black man with a goatee in his mid-thirties.
This guy who had to be Fred, replied, “We’ll give her dookie hole the old double donkey-punch,” sounding like he meant business before chuckling, “Remember, it’s my turn to go first, George.”
Sounding mildly disappointed, George good-naturedly replied while sounding resigned to going second, sighed, “It’s more fun to go first, and open’em up.”
While twerking her ass enticingly, Sumi seductively squealed, “Ooh, fuck my ass, Masters, fuck it hard,” using a high-pitched Japanese porn starlet's voice that was music to men’s ears worldwide.
"Start begging me to fuck your dirtbox, slave girl," Fred sneered, slapping her hard on her ass a couple of times as he moved into position before dropping his pants.
Sumi couldn’t get his cock up her ass fast enough, showing her true colors, challenging him, “I want to feel it, make it burn!”
The older wrangler holding me up on wobbly legs, grinned down at Sumi, drawling, “Don’t worry your pretty head none darlin', y’all get yer rusty sheriff's badge smashed in right quick. Ole Fred and George here, they’ll make it buuurrnn before creamin’ in your Texas chili pot.”
Fred turned to the side, giving me a view of his impressive erection, saying, “George, throw me that lube. This bitch’s leather cheerio is tight, but it’s pulling on my finger like an old pro. This won’t be her first anal rodeo.”
That experienced slave wrangler sure had Sumi pegged. She confided last night during our talk with Mama that when in the right mood, she was a total butt slut delighting in the intensity of anal sex more than traditional vaginal sex. Mama did it again that night, embarrassing me to no end when agreeing with Sumi that the burn of first penetration was like nothing else. Well, Sumi was in the right state of mind for what was about to happen to her.
Feeling a little jealous, not wanting to watch Sumi enjoying herself while I was sidelined, I looked around, noticing for the first time Jake Taylor standing next to Kayden McAllister, his face flushed from recent exertion, nonchalantly zipping up his fly. Putting two and two together, I recognized his voice as that of my Prince who had just fucked me senseless.
Jake was the older brother of fellow debutante Tiffany Taylor and served as an Honor Guard member with Kayden. I had a mini crush on him that night, dancing a few times with him during the ball, and was disappointed when he never called afterwards. Now his semen, along with countless others, was oozing out of my well fucked pussy and starting to run down the inside of my thigh.
An excited Garrett Hamilton burst into the room, suddenly freezing with a shocked look on his ruggedly handsome face while taking me in. Taking all of me in. Examining me from head to foot, his eyes finally settled on mine as we stared hungrily at each other. He couldn’t disguise his initial disgust, or was it disappointment, even as a sexual desire burned hot in his gaze, causing me to blush, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Garrett’s shoulders slumped, sounding upset, or was it regret, exclaiming, “Damn, I’m too late. What happened to her?”
“What happened to her?” incredulously exclaimed the crusty old wrangler holding my arm.
Another monger piped up teasing poor Garrett, “Hey Captain Obvious. Don’t they teach you college boys nothin’. This slut just swallowed over a half dozen loads of baby batter and another good half dozen or more are leakin’ out of her used-up honey pot. That’s what happened to her.”
Sounding apologetic, Master Darwin explained, “Sorry, son, this slave girl is all fucked out. Had to take her off the bench for her own good. You can go next on the fresh piece of slave pussy in the middle if you want.”
Kayden suggested, “Middle slut’s ass wasn’t plugged so you can pick your hole.”
Jake Taylor was trying to be helpful, but just sounded snarky, adding, “Ms. Craig was leakin’ cooter cream like all get out when I went last. A real swamp monster. It sucks going last before they pull’em off the bench.”
“Trick is, you want to get to the head of the line with a fresh piece of ass, avoiding a sloppy slave snatch like this one,” added Kayden, nodding in my direction for emphasis.
I was just standing there; my “sloppy slave snatch” had been repeatedly fucked so many times that it was still throbbing. Tremors from my last orgasm still coursed through my body, the evidence of my recent breeding was oozing out, and my only thought was that they could bend me over that vacant table across the room and let Garrett have a go at me. Somehow, I still wanted more, especially from him. Lost in my sexual stupor, I just couldn’t enunciate the words to express myself while these men continued talking around me.
Fred, the slave wrangler behind Sumi got my attention by loudly announcing to the room, “Time for some anal carnage in this slave's rusty sheriff’s badge!”
Glancing back in their direction, I watched Fred violently thrusting his hips forward, spearing Sumi with his horse cock balls deep in one fluid stroke. “That was going to burn for sure, and the slut’ll probably love it,” was my first thought.
Sumi’s loud howl of delight confirmed my suspicion. Her squeals of pleasure were abruptly muffled by another wrangler’s cock filling her mouth; I knew the feeling. I swear you could still hear Sumi’s happy, high-pitched cries even with a cock in her mouth. She had me clenching the plug in my ass while wishing I were her, sending new tingles surging through my body as I lost focus, fanaticizing about getting a hard cock in the ass. Would I enjoy it as much as my friends? I sure thought so.
“They just put that nookie in the middle between the other two sluts on the bench. You can go after Fred and George butt-bang her good. The slut on her left will get rotated out next. That tall blonde slave pussy standing there will take her place. Your choice,” added Master Darwin, referring to my pledge sister Ainsley, giving Garrett his best options.
George interjected, elbowing Garrett in a friendly manner while confidently laughing, "Son, you have not lived until you have pulverized a squealing slave's rusty wagon wheel. Just listen to this experienced skank; music to my ears!"
Referring to Ainsley the old monger holding my arm drawled, “That tall blonde ain’t plugged neither. It’s open season on her backdoor.”
Garrett’s disappointment at missing out on me was evident in his tone when glancing around with disgust, he replied, “Naw, no thanks Mr. Washington. I was really looking forward to Belinda,” right before quickly turning on his heel and rushing out of the room without another word. Sumi’s cries of pleasure filled the room joining the contented moans and squeals of the girls getting shafted.
My heart felt for Garrett. I tried calling after him, the distress on my face evident as my mouth moved, not making a coherent sound. Grinning, Jake winked at me, causing me to blush a little more if that was even possible as the old slave monger whisked me out of the room on wobbly legs, down a hallway, and into a room where I was confronted by the blast of hot air and the stench of burning flesh and urine.
(To be Continued.)
