On the Auction Block (11 page)

Unless Baronet Grenfeld was still offended
that she had refused a second dance with him. He might care too
much. He might make absolutely certain that she found not the least
shred of joy tonight.

She had spent most of the afternoon sitting
on a wooden chair with a dildo jammed into her ass, just to make
sure that it would be as loose as possible for the
entertainment.

She had been too upset to eat anything since
lunch yesterday. The upside of that was that her colon was as empty
as it could be so it didn’t matter if her sphincter was gaping half
open.

No one had told her if she would be
entertaining all the gentlemen by herself or if Linda had agreed to
lend a slave to Mrs. Dodge.

She would read a lot into what Linda did.

If Linda lent a slave and never asked to
borrow Flame back, it would mean that she still had some compassion
for her friend. If she refused to lend a slave, it would indicate
disdain for her. But if she lent a slave only so that she could be
able to borrow Flame later and cruelly humiliate her, it would mean
that Linda hated her.

Her cell door opened to reveal an unfamiliar
face – another slave who was wearing a housedress. Flame blushed at
her own nudity.

“I’m Sapphire,” the slave said. “We’ll be
working together tonight. Mr. Dodge instructed me to help you
prepare for this evening’s entertainment.”

“I’m Flame,” she said. She examined Sapphire.
The other slave was a couple of years older than her. That would
make her about thirty. She was beginning to show her age. She was
pretty but not an exceptional beauty. She looked thin in her
housedress. Worn by time and circumstance. Linda had sent the least
desirable slave in Lord Hoffman’s stable.

Flame hoped for better from her old friend,
but had no right to expect it.

“Two slaves for seven men,” Sapphire said.
“That’s not too bad. I’ve had worse. Once it was me alone to serve
eight. I had to move quicker than a hummingbird in a hailstorm.
Afterward, I could barely waddle. My cunt was so sore that I
couldn’t close my thighs for a week.”

“I’ve never entertained before. I have no
idea what to do.”

Sapphire laughed. “You do whatever you’re
told. Immediately and with great enthusiasm.”

“I figured that much.”

“You can take some initiative if you like,
but that can be risky. If you offer yourself to one man first, the
others might feel rejected. Sometimes slaves are punished in
interesting and imaginative ways for the amusement of the guests.
The punishment will be severe if the guests take a dislike to you.
You don’t want to make yourself a candidate for that kind of
entertainment if you can help it. The trick is to keep the guests
aroused constantly. As long as someone is waiting eagerly to have
sex with you, the others won’t take time out to punish you. Your
jaws may ache like the devil during the fifth blowjob in a row, but
you better remind yourself that being suspended by your wrists with
your toes barely touching the floor for the rest of the evening
would be many times more painful. You can take my word for
that.”

Sapphire sounded like she was speaking from
experience.

She cocked her head and appraised Flame. “I’m
surprised that you’ve never entertained before. Most slaves
entertain at least once a week. How long have you been a
slave?”

“Two months.”

“Adjudication? Bankruptcy?”

“Neither. I volunteered.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Nobody does. I was the wife of a lord. I
didn’t like it so I put myself on the auction block to be
sold.”

“You didn’t like being a lady?”

“It was boring.”

Sapphire stared at her. “Being a fine lady
was so boring that you made yourself a slave?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

“Do many ladies do that?”

“I don’t think any lady has ever done it
before and I doubt that any one will ever do it again.”

“I’d think not.”

“So, what do we do tonight?”

“Two slaves for seven men. I think we should
start off with a show. We can burn some time that way.”

“What kind of a show? I can play the
flute.”

“Not unless it’s made of meat and attached to
a man at the crotch. Try playing a musical instrument tonight and
you’ll spend the evening with it shoved up your ass. Better a flute
than a fiddle, I guess, but let’s try to avoid that altogether. The
only show that will interest the gentlemen is a sex show. We kiss
each other, fondle each other. You take my clothes off, as slowly
as you can. I take yours off. We take turns spreading our legs and
licking each other. You get the idea.”

Flame shook her head in shock. “I… I’m not
attracted to women.”

Sapphire laughed. “Me neither. So what? I’m
not attracted to most of the gentlemen that I suck off, either. A
slave does what a slave does. Nobody cares about her feelings so
she shouldn’t either. Life is easier if you don’t feel
anything.”

“When I was a lady, I didn’t feel anything. I
became a slave so that I could have feelings.”

“Then you made an extraordinary
miscalculation.” She shook her head. “Spectacular. Anyway, after
the show, the gentlemen will be lined up to have a turn at us. We
slide from each other to the gentlemen. Someone will likely want a
blowjob when your tongue is still coated with my juices. Don’t
disappoint him. The trick to avoiding going through hell tonight is
to not disappoint a gentleman. Not even a little bit. No matter
what he wants.”

Sapphire’s instruction was bringing no
comfort to Flame. She was almost shaking with fear.

“The guests will be eating soon. We better
get dressed. If we aren’t ready when dinner is over, the punishment
will be dire. Horny gentlemen don’t like to wait and they take out
their frustration on the nearest slave.”

There were boxes piled in the kitchen.

Sapphire began opening them. “Isn’t this
cute? We’re going to start out the evening dressed like ladies.
I’ve never worn a lady’s dress before.”

Flame’s face burned. One of the dresses was
blue satin with white trim – the same color, fabric, and style as
the one that the handlers had torn from her body on the auction
block. Dodge was going to remind her and everyone else of her
humiliation by making her re-enact the stripping of her lady’s
dress.

No other slave could do this. In any other
circumstance, to present a slave in a lady’s dress would offend
every gentleman in the room. But to present the Lady Irene’s
transformation into Flame would be hilarious. The presence of the
real former Lady Irene would make it all right for Sapphire to join
the act and wear a lady’s dress, too.

She examined the contents of the boxes.
“These are ladies’ dresses, but they’re not ladies’ undergarments.”
There were neither camisoles nor panties in the boxes, just red
stockings and garter belts.

“I wouldn’t know,” Sapphire said. “I’ve never
seen a lady’s undergarments.”

Apparently Sapphire had never been asked to
do her owner’s laundry.

The gentlemen would love the fantasy that
some of the ladies they knew might wear such sluttish things under
their long dresses. There would be no shortage of hard-ons in the
room when the dresses were removed.

Flame wondered if, after tonight, Baronet
Grenfeld might suggest that Dame Grenfeld buy a new wardrobe of
undergarments. From what she remembered of him, he was pig enough
to demand it. And his wife might be weak enough to comply.

She looked at Sapphire. “Do you want me to
make your face up like a lady’s instead of a slave’s?”

Sapphire looked back in surprise. “There’s a
difference?”

“Yes. A lady’s makeup is softer. Less
obvious. A slave’s makeup is bolder. More exciting.
Provocative.”

“I never knew that.” She thought for a
minute. “Okay. Let’s do lady’s makeup for our entrance. We don’t
have to worry about not being provocative enough. We’ll be plenty
provocative when we’re licking each other’s pussies.”

Flame cringed at the thought.

“Don’t worry,” Sapphire said. “I keep myself
clean down there. Practically sterile.” She laughed.

Flame couldn’t laugh with her.

“And we have to wear our hair up,” Sapphire
said.

Flame was startled. “Up? Slaves never wear
their hair up. It’s forbidden. Real ladies would crucify us.”

“Where’s it written that it’s forbidden?
Nothing is forbidden in an entertainment. Not as long as the
gentlemen are kept amused. And we don’t have to worry about any
ladies. I can guarantee that no lady is ever going to hear about
how slaves wear their hair in the billiard room.”

“Nothing is forbidden?” Flame asked.

“Well, one thing. Permanent damage to the
slaves is strictly forbidden. Normal wear and tear is fine, but
nothing that would lower her value. It’s not just a matter of cost.
It’s about respect for the slave’s owner. Only an owner is
permitted to damage his own slave. My owner isn’t in the room so
I’m not at risk of permanent damage. Your owner will be there so
you have to worry about him. Be extra careful not to offend him
tonight because he’ll have to do something severe if you embarrass
him.”

Flame intended to be the perfect slave
tonight. No question about that.

When they wore her hair up, everyone would
see the numbers tattooed on the napes of their necks. Yet another
of the uncountable humiliations in a life of a slave. Flame didn’t
think that it would bother her too much.

When Sapphire removed her housedress, she
turned her back to lay it over the easy chair. Flame was shocked by
the criss-cross tangle of heavy scars on her back and buttocks.

Sapphire noticed her reaction. She was
self-conscious about her scars and always watched for a reaction
when she was presented nude.

“I had an owner who liked to be caned,” she
said. “The only problem was that he felt obligated to punish me
with twice as many strokes, twice as hard, to prove that he was my
superior. He bought me for twenty-six thousand and, three months
later, could only get twelve thousand back at auction. I don’t
think he cared that I lost fourteen thousand in value so quickly.
He had money to burn.”

“That’s terrible.” It was more evidence that
Linda had lent the least valuable slave in her husband’s kennel to
Mrs. Dodge.

“The problem is that the less a slave is
worth, the more she’s at risk. That owner lost fourteen thousand
just by beating me. If my current owner kills me outright and he’ll
lose only twelve thousand.” That was the terrible mathematics of
slavery. Sapphire shrugged and smiled sadly. “I’m already
thirty-one years old. I’m not planning on living to a ripe old
age.”

Flame spent the next hour applying makeup and
arranging hair with meticulous precision.

When Flame pinned the last lock of Sapphire’s
hair in place, they both looked like perfect ladies. Except for the
bold black numbers tattooed forever on the backs of their
necks.

As they waited in the pleasure room, Sapphire
spoke less and less. She wasn’t as casual about the evening as she
pretended. Her silence betrayed her nerves.

Finally, Dodge came. “The gentlemen have
assembled in the billiard room. It’s time for you to join us.”

The click of their high heels echoed in the
stone corridor. Flame had never heard such an ominous sound.

When Dodge opened the door, bright light
almost blinded them. Most of the lights in the billiard room were
muted to a red glow, but a spotlight was focused on the door that
led to the slave kennels.

Soft music played from hidden speakers.

Seven men didn’t look like so many until
Flame thought about being fucked by every single one of them, maybe
twice or even three times if they could get it up. From that
perspective, the guests looked like a crowd. She couldn’t stop
herself from looking at crotches and wondering what monsters lurked
inside those pants.

Dodge announced them. “Let me present, for
your entertainment, Lady Sapphire and Lady Flame.”

There were snickers at the ironic titles. A
large, sloppy man with a red beard guffawed loudly.

Flame recognized Baronet Grenfeld. She met
his eyes and smiled.

He licked his lips, ostentatiously, and
stared at her crotch.

Flame’s pussy twitched and her asshole
pulsed. As the ranking gentleman in the room, he would be first in
line to have her. Every time.

But he would have her only after she had Lady
Sapphire.

Sapphire nodded and said, loudly, “I’m
pleased to make your acquaintance, each and every one of you.”

The men smiled back. Someone shouted, “You
will. Be sure of that.”

The others laughed.

Flame knew what to say and took the lead from
Sapphire. “Gentlemen, you all think that you know your ladies, but
I can testify that you don’t know as much as I do about what is in
some of their minds.” If any other slave said that, she would be
beaten half to death. But Flame had been a lady. That assertion was
not so outrageous when it came from her lips.

For her, more than for any other slave,
nothing was forbidden in this room.

Sapphire moved close and put her arm around
Flame’s waist.

“When the doors are closed,” Flame said,
“when the gentlemen are out of the room, you don’t know how your
ladies might amuse themselves.”

She turned her head to Sapphire and leaned
close.

Their lips met. Sapphire kissed her long and
passionately.

When she broke away, Flame said, “You never
know what a lady might wear under her skirts.” She slowly pulled
her skirt to mid-thigh and cocked her leg to show the red stocking
held up by a garter clip.

Sapphire followed suit.

“Or what your lady might
not
be
wearing.” She pulled her skirt all the way to her waist and turned
to show the audience a naked buttock.