Joyce’s thoughts returned, yet again, to the question, “How did I get myself into this?.” Her tall, lithe, body was stretched out between two pillars in a cage, arms and legs stretched in a classic spread eagle shape. No clothes covered her small, yet firm, breasts, nor any other part of her body. Her thick thatch of black pussy hair was glistening with moisture that gave witness to the lust and desire that was growing in her. The matching hair that hung from her head, down to her waist waved in the air as her body shifted position again and again. The blindfold covering her eyes left her clueless to the presence of the people ogling her and making comments about her appearance and the form hanging on the wall of the cage, just to the left of the doorway.
In her mind’s eye, she saw herself sitting in the parking lot of The Mephisto Club, her best friend, Nadine, sitting beside her. Joyce was nervous then, unsure if she really wanted to go through with this wild plan of hers.
“Oh God! It sounded a lot more fun when I talked about it a week ago,” whispered Joyce.
Nadine took her hand. “You don’t have to, you know that. There’ll be other times. You told me yourself that the club has their charity auction every four weeks.”
“Nadine, if I chicken out now, it’ll be easier to not do it the next time. I want this, I really do. I’ve known about my cravings for being a sex slave ever since I was 15. After what happened three days ago, I think I like being a dominant too.”
“In that case, get your ass out of the car, Joyce. It’s just first time jitters. I’ll bet she’s in there as well.”
“Do you think so?”
“She’s been there every auction, or so you told me. Why not today?” Nadine took her friend’s hand and they faced each other. “Joyce, I don’t fully understand this burning desire to be used as a sexual toy by who knows whom. But, I do understand that this is what you’ve wanted for a long time. Finally, you’re not so afraid of what people think that you’re ignoring your desires. Don’t stop now.”
Joyce seemed to calm down at her friend’s supportive words. “I know you’re just telling what I already know. Will you stay until I’m done?”
“Of course I will, I already promised you that.” Nadine’s voice showed no irritation at giving the reassurance yet again.
The two ladies exited the car and walked into the club. The man in charge of taking cover charges asked the usual question.
“Good evening ladies, are either of you planning on putting yourself up for auction? The proceeds go to charity. This month’s beneficiary is the city’s rape crisis network.”
“Uh, yes, I’ll be selling myself,” Joyce answered with a nervous quiver.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Not to everyone, but I have been working the door on auction night for several years now. It’s alright to be nervous or even scared. I can assure you that you’ll be just fine, as long as you don’t leave the premises.”
“Thanks. Where do I...”
“Just inside and to the left, you’ll find the sign up tables. Betty, the lady in the black latex cat suit, will be glad to help you.”
Nadine and Joyce paid their fees and were soon standing in front of a long table with two other people. Across from them, the afore mentioned lady was smiling and explaining to someone how the auction worked. Joyce had trouble concentrating on what was being said. She looked around, awed by the sheer numbers of people milling about. No matter how many times she came to auction night, the crowd always surprised her. She was vaguely aware of the background noises of arousal and pain.
“Hi, can I help you?”
Joyce turned around with a start. “Oh, sorry, I was...”
“Yeah, I guess so. I want to ... I mean I’m going to ... you know ... Auction! I’m going to be auctioned.”
“That’s great. I’m happy for you. Have you ever done the auction before?”
“No, but I have watched it a few times.”
“I thought your face looked familiar. I’ve seen you around quite a bit. Let me explain the basics and then I’ll walk you through the sign up form.” Turning to one of the other people nearby, Betty asked, “Roger, will you take the desk, I’m going to help a first timer.”
“Sure thing, Betty.”
“Come this way.” Once they were at a relatively quieter end of the table, Betty had Joyce take a seat and started her explanation. “What’s going to happen is that you’ll be displayed in a cage, bound, for a couple of hours. Then, you’ll be taken on the stage and the auctioneer, that’s Angela, will offer you to the crowd. She’ll put on a very realistic performance, treating you like an object to be used for the pleasure of whoever wins. She’ll try to match her approach to how you’re responding. With me so far?”
“Yeah. She won’t whip me or anything, will she?”
“Not unless you ask her to.”
“I see. So I can ask for something in particular?”
“Of course, we get that a lot. Is there anything you’d like from her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not.”
“Well, you have some time to decide. Now, the form is part questionnaire and part liability waiver. The waiver is a standard form used by clubs that offer sites for activities. We’re not liable for things that go wrong between you and your dominant.”
“That sounds fair. What’s the questionnaire for?”
“You’re telling bidders what you like and don’t like in terms of play. You mark each type of play with a rating, from 1 to 6. A rating of 1 is, ‘I love it, bring it on, ‘ while a rating of 5 is, ‘Don’t even think about it.’ A 6 is special, it means that you don’t like the activity but are turned on by the idea of being forced into it.”
Joyce flipped through the form. “I had no idea that BDSM could be broken down in so many different ways. Wow! Does blood sports mean what I think it does?”
“Yes, some people enjoy having blood drawn during a scene, either with a knife or by needles. People sometimes use other things, but we don’t allow them on the premises.”
“I ... I had no idea. Betty, how do you decide?”
“You use what you’ve done in the past as a guide.”
“What if you’ve never...”
“Ah, I see. You’ve never submitted before, have you?”
“No.” Joyce’s voice was small. “Is that a problem?”
“Not necessarily. It does mean that you have nothing but your fantasies to guide you in filling out the form. What sort of things have you fantasized about?”
“I... ,” Joyce’s face turned a deep red in embarrassment. It was one thing to tell someone you were close to that you’ve dreamed of being someone’s sex slave, it was quite another to describe the intimate details of those fantasies to someone you met ten minutes ago. “I imagine I’m being forced to obey someone, a man. He’ll demand things of me that I don’t want to do and make me do or accept them.”
“That’s good, we can work with that. What sort of things? Does he make you suck him off?”
Joyce was speechless at. not just the straight forward question, but the nonchalant manner in which it was asked. Betty saw the shock and waited. A couple of minutes passed while Joyce swallowed reflexively.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m not used to people talking about sex acts so openly.”
“You’ll find a lot of that in the scene. Part of the thrill is the violation of society’s standards. Being forced to do so is a powerful submissive mind game. ‘It’s not our fault, we were made to do it’ sort of thing. So, think on your fantasies and remember what things you resisted and were forced to do.”
“Well, yeah, sucking him off and swallowing was a big one. My boyfriends in the past never came in my mouth. Being ... taking someone in my butt happens in my thoughts a lot too. I’m actually a little frightened of it. I always imagine it’s really painful.”
“It can be on the initial penetration, but you do get used to it. It’s an interesting feeling of being full. For me, it’s frustrating because I can’t cum from my ass.”
“I see.” Joyce was still getting used to the idea that someone would be so open about their sex life. Even her encounter three days ago had not prepared her for this level of intimacy with a stranger. “Let’s see, there’s masturbation. I’m really shy about it and sometimes I’m forced to bring myself off in front of others.”
“This’s good, there’s some wonderful things to start with. Now, how are you forced?”
“It varies. Sometimes I’m physically overpowered and bound. Then he has his way with me and I can’t stop him. Other times I’m whipped until I give in and agree.”
“I notice you keep saying he and him. I take it you have no fantasies about women?”
Joyce reddened again. “Actually, I kind of do. There’s never a woman dominating me, but sometimes I’m forced, in my thoughts, to pleasure a woman after she’s been fucked...” Joyce put her hand to her mouth in shock, unable to believe how easily the word passed through her lips. Betty smiled and nodded. “I mean, I have to eat what’s coming out of her after he’s cum in her.”
“That’s called a cream pie.” Both ladies smiled at the vivid imagery that was created. “Which of these do you want to be able to experience tonight?”
.... There is more of this story ...