Chapter 2

The morning sun painted Haley’s bedroom in streaks of gold, illuminating the dust motes swirling above her half-open dresser drawers. Her fingers trembled where they hovered between two hangers—one holding a pale yellow sundress with tiny daisies embroidered along the hem, the other a pair of denim shorts barely long enough to cover the curve of her backside. The sundress would be harder to hike up if—no, when—someone decided to push it out of the way. But the shorts ... the shorts would leave her thighs bare for wandering hands to skim, pinch, or spread.

A whimper escaped her lips as she realized she wasn’t choosing an outfit based on what she wanted to wear, but on how much it might delay or facilitate what was coming.

The memory hit her like a bucket of ice water.

The hard wood her health teacher’s desk pressing against her naked back and butt. Rough nylon ropes biting into her wrists and ankles, splaying her open for the entire class. Miss Simmons’ manicured fingers twisting the dial of the buzzing wand higher, higher— Haley’s thighs clenched at the phantom sensation, her panties suddenly damp where the fabric hugged her tender pussy. She could still hear Ryan’s voice, counting each shuddering climax aloud until she lost track after seven.

“Such a good little fountain,” Miss Simmons had crooned afterward, stroking Haley’s sweat-damp hair while the girl lay boneless and oversensitive. The teacher’s breath smelled of peppermint when she whispered, “Tomorrow morning meet me at the fairgrounds, I talked to my friend! Jeffrey can’t wait to see how you’ll do at a fundraiser for our class tomorrow.” Haley hadn’t understood then, her mind still floating somewhere between her body and the ceiling tiles. But the way Miss Simmons’ slender fingers tugged on her blond hair promised she’d find out soon enough.

Haley shook her head as she forced herself back to the present. She dropped the sundress like it had burned her, too easy to remove! She yanked the tank top over her head before she could second-guess herself, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide the stiff peaks of her nipples poking through her thin cotton bra. The shorts came next, the denim rough against her sensitive thighs as she buttoned them over her Hello Kitty underwear.

Fair balloons twisted lazily overhead as hay-scented wind carried laughter towards the main stage where the livestock auctions were usually held. Beneath tinseled banners reading “Haven High School Student Fundraiser, ” a crowd of students, families, and townsfolk shuffling side-to-side awaiting entertainment worth cheering louder than pie-eating contests and tractor pulls usually held here.

The crowd grows hushed as they watch Miss Simmons lead Haley up onto the stage where Jeffery waited.

Oh god! It’s the auction block! Haley thought to herself, whimpering quietly.

She nervously ascended the creaky plywood steps beneath the watchful gazes belonging mostly strangers save few recognizable exceptions clustered in a small group to one side.

Miss Simmons clutched her arm and whispered, “Come along Haley, we need to get started.”

Jeffrey grinned broadly as he stepped forward, his polished boots clicking against the wooden stage. He held up a pair of oversized calipers with a theatrical flourish, the metal gleaming under the midday sun.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” he announced, his voice booming through the tinny speakers, “before we begin our special auction, let’s take a moment to properly appraise our lovely merchandise!”

The crowd tittered as Haley’s cheeks burned crimson.

Jeffrey approached, the calipers outstretched like some sort of medieval torture device. “First, we’ll measure the merchandise’s... assets.” He winked at the crowd before pressing the cold metal arms around Haley’s small breasts through her tank top.

Haley gasped at the sudden pressure, her nipples hardening visibly beneath the thin fabric. Jeffrey squeezed the calipers tighter, making her whimper.

“Let’s see if we can find anything worth measuring!” he joked, shaking his head in mock disappointment when the tool barely registered any protrusion.

The crowd laughed, and Haley wished she could disappear.

Next came the measuring tape, which Jeffrey wrapped around her waist before snapping it against her hipbones with a sharp twang that made her jump. He tugged at the hem of her shorts, lifting them just enough to expose the upper swells of her thighs and the pink edge of her childish panties.

“Moisture check!” he declared suddenly, slipping his hand down the front of her shorts and underwear.

Haley’s breath hitches as Jeffrey’s calloused palm grinds against her mound, the rough skin catching on her delicate folds. Her hips jerk forward instinctively before she can stop herself—a traitorous thrust that presses her clit against his probing fingers.

Haley squeaked, her legs instinctively trying to close, but Miss Simmons simply smacked one of her pert butt cheeks in admonishment.

Jeffrey pulled his hand away with a flourish, holding up glistening fingers for the crowd to see. “And we have a very responsive specimen here, folks!” he announced. “Already prepped and ready for display!”

Haley’s breath came in shallow gasps as Jeffrey continued his “inspection,” pinching her nipples through her tank top and bra announcing, “Well, at least she has responsive fun nipples, even if her tits are tiny,” to the delighted crowd.

Finally, Miss Simmons stepped forward, clipboard in hand. “Based on our thorough evaluation,” she said primly, “we can confirm that Haley here is indeed a prime example of youthful femininity. Now, who’s ready to bid on her... components?”

The crowd erupted into cheers as Jeffrey grabbed the microphone again. “First up—the tank top! Who’ll start the bidding at twenty dollars?”

Haley’s eyes widened as she realized they were going to auction away her clothes, “Wh-what? No!” she stammered, shaking her head.

Miss Simmons simply patted her cheek. “Now, now, Haley. It’s for a good cause. Besides...” She leaned in close, her breath hot against Haley’s ear. “You know you can’t say no.”

Haley’s protests died in her throat as the first bid rang out.

The auctioneer’s gavel cracked against the wooden podium like a gunshot, jolting Haley’s spine straight. Twenty pairs of eyes tracked the sweat beading along her hairline as it slid down her temple—one droplet hanging precariously from her jaw before splattering onto the sun-warmed stage boards between her sneakers.

“Let’s start the bidding for this darling little top at fifty dollars!” Jeffrey’s polished tenor curled around the microphone. His knuckles brushed the side of Haley’s left breast as he gestured toward her chest, the incidental contact making her nipple pucker tighter beneath the double layers of cotton.

From the front row, Ryan’s hand shot up, his adolescent voice cracking. “Sixty!” The acne-scarred teen wiped his palms on his jeans, his gaze locked on the damp patches forming under Haley’s arms where fear-sweat met summer heat.

Miss Simmons’ manicured nail tapped the clipboard. “We have sixty from the young man in the Nirvana tee—any advance on sixty?” Her coral lips pursed when a woman in a sunhat raised a numbered paddle. “Seventy-five from bidder twelve!”

Haley’s fingers twitched at her sides. The tank top clung to her like a second skin, the fabric suctioning against her ribs with each shallow breath. She imagined hands—Ryan’s? The sunhat woman’s?—peeling it away to expose the lace-edged bra beneath. The fantasy sent twin currents of shame and arousal crackling through her nervous system, converging low in her belly where her thighs pressed together.

“One hundred!” Ryan’s shout drew scattered applause. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at Haley’s chest, his tongue darting out to wet chapped lips.

Jeffrey’s chuckle vibrated through the speakers. “Going once ... twice...” The gavel fell. “Sold to our very enthusiastic young collector!”

The crowd parted as Ryan scrambled onto the stage, his sneakers squeaking against the polished wood. Haley caught the scent of Axe body spray and Cheetos as he stopped inches from her, his feverish gaze dropping to the hollow of her throat.

“Go on, winner,” Jeffrey purred. “Claim your prize.”

Ryan’s fingers trembled where they gripped the hem of Haley’s tank. The fabric resisted for one glorious moment before yielding and beginning to peel away from her sweat soaked skin. Cool air kissed Haley’s midriff as the garment slid upward, revealing the smooth tanned skin underneath.

“Arms up,” Ryan breathed.

Haley’s muscles locked. Some ancient instinct screamed to cover herself, but Miss Simmons’ earlier warning echoed louder—You know you can’t say no. Her arms floated upward like marionette strings had been tugged, the motion lifting her small rounded breasts beneath the scalloped cups of her bra.

Ryan yanked the tank over her head with a grunt, the sudden exposure drawing gasps from the crowd. He didn’t immediately retreat—instead, he pressed the damp fabric to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Fuck,” he groaned, his free hand adjusting himself through his jeans. “Smells like sweat and ... something sweet.”

Haley’s pulse hammered in her veins, her hands shaking where they hovered near her ears as she slowly lowered her arms. The midday sun danced across her soft almond skin, the heat a stark contrast to the ice sluicing through her veins. She could just barely smell her arousal as her embarrassment continued—he was smelling her life, her humiliation, her private smells.

Miss Simmons patted Ryan on the arm smiling at him. “Let’s not monopolize the merchandise, please return to your seat” she chided, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Next item—the adorable denim shorts currently hugging Miss Fitz’s hips!”

The gavel’s next strike seemed to reverberate through Haley’s bones. She stared at the sea of raised paddles while Jeffrey described the shorts’ “well-worn inseam” and “strategic distressed areas.” Each bid sent fresh tremors through her —particularly when Lily’s older brother offered two hundred dollars, his letterman jacket sleeves rolled to show off girls’ names tattooed on his biceps.

“Two-fifty!” shouted a gray-haired man near the back.

Haley’s breath hitched. Principal Hendricks’ bifocals flashed as he adjusted his tie, his paddle held aloft like a conquering banner. She’d seen that look before—in his office last semester when she’d accidentally worn a skirt shorter than dress code.

“Going once ... twice...” Jeffrey’s grin widened.

“Three hundred!” shouted Billy, flexing his muscles as he held his paddle high. The crowd erupted into cheers and whistles.

Jeffrey looked at Principal Hendricks and the old man shook his head adding, “I’ll wait for a better item!”

Haley’s knees threatened to buckle as Billy bounded onto the stage, his muscular frame dwarfing hers. He didn’t hesitate—just hooked thick fingers through her belt loops and yanked waistband out from her body, sending the metal button flying into the crowd.

Haley whimpered and thought to herself, Oh god, he’s going to rip them right off me!

Billy’s hands slid down to cup her ass through the denim, kneading the firm globes before slowly peeling the shorts downward. The rough fabric scraped against Haley’s thighs, the friction igniting sparks along her oversensitive skin. When the shorts pooled around her ankles, Billy crouched to remove them completely, his face level with her crotch.

“Damn,” he breathed, his hot breath ghosting over her panties. “These little bows are fucking cute.”

Haley squeezed her eyes shut, her entire body trembling. She could feel the dampness between her legs seeping through the cotton, the evidence of her traitorous arousal on display for everyone to see. Billy stood abruptly, the shorts dangling from his fingers as he turned to the crowd.

“Smell that?” he taunted, waving the garment. “Little Haley’s been dripping all morning!” He brought the crotch to his nose and inhaled deeply before tucking them into his back pocket with a wink. “These are going straight to my trophy case.”

The crowd roared with laughter and catcalls, their voices merging into a deafening cacophony that pounded against Haley’s skull. She stood frozen, her arms crossed over her chest in a futile attempt at modesty, her thighs pressed together to hide the damp patch on her panties.

Miss Simmons stepped forward, her clipboard clutched gently to her chest. “Now dear, you know you aren’t allowed to cover up,” she said, smacking Haley’s hands away from covering her bra.

Jeffrey stepped back to the microphone and announced, “Let’s start the bidding on her bra! Do I hear four-hundred?”

Haley’s breath came in shallow gasps as the bids climbed higher and higher, her small breasts heaving beneath the flimsy lace cups. She could feel the eyes of the crowd raking over her body, their gazes like physical touches against her exposed skin.

“Five hundred from bidder twelve!” Miss Simmons called out, her voice ringing with excitement.

The crowd parted as Lily stepped onto the stage, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. She sauntered over to Haley, her hips swaying with each step. “Let’s see what all the fuss is about,” she purred, reaching behind Haley to unclasp the bra with practiced ease.

The straps slid down Haley’s arms, the delicate fabric pooling at her feet. The summer air kissed her bare nipples, making them pucker instantly. Lily cupped the empty cups mockingly against her own chest, eliciting laughter from the crowd.

“Such tiny little things,” Lily cooed, her fingers ghosting over Haley’s exposed breasts. “But so perky.” She pinched one nipple between her thumb and forefinger, twisting lightly.

Haley gasped, her back arching involuntarily. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity straight to her clit, her pussy clenching and spasming. She could feel the wetness spreading, the evidence of her arousal staining the front of her panties for everyone to see.

Lily released her nipple with a smirk, turning to the crowd with the bra held aloft. “Best five hundred I ever spent,” she declared, tucking the garment into her back pocket before returning to her seat.

Jeffrey’s voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd. “And now, the pièce de résistance—Haley’s adorable little panties!” He gestured grandly toward her waist, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Do I hear six hundred?”