Chapter 19: Kelly Pretties up Sheila for the Auction

Kelly led Sheila by the hand back into the hall. She closed the door behind them.

Sheila's entire face was wet and sticky, including her forehead and eyelids, and she was compelled to keep her eyes closed. She had once gotten semen in her eye and it had stung terribly.

"I'm a mess!" she exclaimed, following Kelly blindly.

"Well, don't you worry, Sheila," the blue girl replied. "We're going to wash you up now."

After about a dozen steps, Kelly stopped her. "Turn right," she said, pulling her by the hand.

They entered a room. Sheila heard the door closed and latched. Despite her closed eyes she could tell that the room was brightly illuminated.

"Wait a sec," Kelly said. Sheila heard the sound of running water, and a damp and warm facecloth was placed in her hands.

Grateful, she wiped her face.

She looked about. They were in a large, well-illuminated bathroom. She saw a large bathtub, sunk in the pink, ceramic-tiled floor which was covered in strategic places with darker pink bathrugs. She observed an armoire just to the right of the door they had entered; on their left stood a vanity with two sinks, a toilet, and a bidet. All four of the walls were mirrored, except that over the vanity, which held a long cabinet. "First," Kelly said; "Let's get that collar off."

She withdrew a key from a pocket. She unlocked Sheila's wrist manacles, and then the collar clasp.

"It's good to see a fresh face in here for a change," she said, smiling. "What's your last name, Sheila? Are you married? I guess you must be, from the ring."

"Ericson. I suppose it's all right for me to talk to you?"

"In here, of course!" Kelly said, laughing.

"Just keep your lips buttoned when the Masters are around. I suppose you asked that because you're scared. I know that I was when I first got here. You'll get used to things, though. Just go along with the Masters' orders."

She touched Sheila's neck above the collar marks, and she ran her fingers through Sheila's hair.

"Oh! I adore your natural blonde hair!" she exclaimed. "I used to bleach mine to make it look decent, but since I got here I've given up doing that. I don't have the time. I don't want to scare you, but gorgeous females like you generate a lot of interest. You do know about the clients, don't you?"

Kelly was certainly loquacious. Sheila wondered how long it would be before the girl's chatter began to bug her.

"Yes. I know a little about them. I guess that they're the men who will bid during this auction that that man mentioned?"

"Yeah," Kelly confirmed. "Those five men in that room we just left are all clients. I suppose that none of the five that we saw in there owns a slave. If they any did, he'd have brought her down to the Executive Lounge with him. Most clients like to watch their slave eat out another girl. Or, vise versa. They prefer a girl who's fresh off a boat, like the two we saw in the E.L. Girls in the E.L. are usually in training, so they're new."

Kelly flicked the hem of Sheila's halter. "Want to take these things off?"

"Am I supposed to?"

"You sure are!" Kelly replied, grinning.

"I have to get you all prepared to be auctioned. By the way, if you have any questions, you might as well ask them now, while you have the chance. I'll be bathing you and doing some other stuff. Pretty you up. It won't be easy for you to learn anything about this place once you're in your cell. And, if you make mistakes because you're ignorant, you'll get whipped. Or worse."

Sheila reached back and undid the hooks. "Did you say 'cell'?" she asked. She gave Kelly a frown. "Am I going to be put in a cell?"

"Mmm-hmm. You'll probably have a roommate, but she won't be able to tell you much. Us blue girls--that's what they call us on account of these dresses--we're the only female slaves who get around much. Some of the male ones go all over the island. I get out sometimes. I can go to the Pet Shop alone. That's because I'm a trainer, not just a blue girl. I love that, to see the beach and all, and to get some sun."

Kelly sighed, smiling. "Of course, the guys get out much more than I do. They have to do manual labor outside. Grounds work, painting, and other things, like carpentry and maintenance. Sometimes a hurricane comes along and does some damage. And a lot of shop work. Did you look at all the stocks in the Executive lounge? Well, the male slaves made all of those. And, just wait 'til you see all the things they made in the TeeCee! The place is loaded with things to keep you in while they work over your tits and cunt."

Oh my god! What can she mean by 'work over'?

"But I get to see most of the rooms in this building," Kelly continued. It's big, four floors plus the basement. The basement is where the cells and the 'Torture Chamber'are."

"'Torture Chamber'?!" Sheila felt a surge of fear.

Kelly laughed. "I'm just kidding," she said.

"The TeeCee is a room where they do funny things to you. Not really torture. Unless you call a whipping 'torture'. And the whippings during training are only to get you to cooperate. If you do what we want you to do, you'll be okay. The virgins, or near- virgins, are usually the ones who get whipped the most. If you're a bit used to sex, you won't get whipped much during training. Just 'go with the flow'.

"Anyhow, we call it the 'Torture Chamber'. The name is really a joke. Oh," she said, pausing; "I forgot what I was getting at. I wanted to let you know that you won't get to see much once you're in your cell, so find out what you can before you're in it."

Sheila wondered how much she could ask Kelly without raising in her the suspicion that she wasn't just another aspiring model who'd been caught in Crane's net. She might not find out anything important if she didn't take that risk. But, Kelly didn't seem the suspicious type, and she loved to talk, so she might be the best source of information, at least for now.

"Just where is this island?" Sheila asked. "It is an island, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, it's an island. But just where it is, well... everyone wants to know that. I'm not sure any of the clients even know. I sure don't. Only two boats come here. The big one that you and the new clients came in on this morning, and a small one that comes here twice a week with supplies. That's all I know. One of the male trainers told me that he thinks this island is in the Antilles. He's from Caracas, and he says that isn't too far from the Antilles, but I was never good at geography, so I don't know how true that might be.

"You can probably ask the guy who buys you. That is, if he's a reasonable Master. Some buyers will let you talk back to them, a little. If a woman gets you, though, watch out! Be more leery with them. Most of them are bitches. They enjoy making you do things that humiliate you. Some do worse things than that. Don't tell anybody I said that."

For some time, in the back of her mind, Sheila had been fearful of what would happen to her when she became some man's slave.

She asked, "D-Do you have any tips about how to act so my Master treats me well?"

Kelly smiled. "Worried, aren't you? Well, as I said, the men are better than the women. Except, there are some men who aren't so nice. I think the best advice I can give is to keep in mind that you're going to be a 'fuck-toy'. By that, I don't mean to lie back and be screwed, though. Your master is going to want to think that you're as anxious for what he wants as he is."

"Wh-What might that be?"

Kelly shrugged. "Well, the clients here have pretty sophisticated tastes, so I can't guess what your Master's fetishes might turn out to be. But I'll give you a simple example. All the clients--male ones--like beejays. So, whenever you think your Master is bored, or in the mood for anything, ask if you can give him one. Pretend you really want to, like it's the most fun thing in the world!"

Sheila giggled. "But, I adore giving one. At least to a guy I like."

"Well, yeah. I know what you mean. But you get the idea."

Sheila had her clothes off by then, and Kelly tossed them into a hamper.

"I'm sure that we're pretty far south," the blue girl continued. You don't want to stay in the sun too long here. With that skin of yours you'll get a burn if you stay outside here for just ten minutes. With me, I tan easy. I'd like to get out more. There's a beach down close to the dock, but with this collar, I don't suppose there's much chance I'll get to take a swim until I leave this place."

"When will that be?" Sheila asked, trying to sound nonchalant. It was a crucial question, but she didn't want to sound like an investigator.

"When will I leave this place you mean?" Kelly asked

Sheila nodded.

Kelly shrugged. "Crane decides that. We never get prior notice that a girl is going to leave. We guess, though. As long as I've been here, the only girls who have left the island were ones who's Masters sold--or maybe gave, I don't know--her back to Crane Crane keeps those for the use of clients who don't have their own slaves, and the clients rent a girl by the week or month; sometimes even just for a night. That's when the client is throwing a party. He might rent several girls for the night."

Kelly laughed. "I tend to run on at the mouth, Sheila. I forgot what I was talking about. As far as girls leaving, the only time it happens is when Mike has his boat here. He brings us supplies twice a week, and he takes girls back with him. That is, if Crane has any to send. Where Mike takes them, though, I have no idea."

She grasped Sheila's hand. "I can't waste too much time talking," she said. "I have to get you ready. Come over to the toilet." She removed items from a cabinet and laid them out on the vanity. She selected two.

"Ugh!" Sheila exclaimed, staring at them. Kelly was holding a syringe and tubing. "Are you going to give me an enema?"

"Have to, kiddo. Lemme turn on the fan; it'll be kickin' in here soon."

She started the water running and tossed crystals into the bathtub, an oversized ceramic pink oval sunk in the tiled floor. By the time Sheila's ordeal with the syringe was over, the tub was filled with foaming and steaming water.

"The bidet is next."

It was opposite the toilet and Sheila had been more or less staring at it during the previous ten minutes of having her intestines cleaned out. She said nothing when Kelly drew the hem of her own dress up to her waist--displaying her nakedness beneath it-- straddled the bidet, and proceeded to demonstrate its use, despite having used one on the ship. She didn't feel that use of one once made her an expert and wanted to avoid any faux pas.

"Be sure you're thorough," Kelly said. "Whoever buys you will probably go down on you. You'll be in static if you're kickin'"

Sheila laughed at the girl's slang. She asked, "How old are you, Kelly?"

"Eighteen. Why?"

"I haven't heard words like that since high school."

"Oh. I imagine that you went to college. You talk like you went to college, except for your funny Western accent."

Sheila smiled. She shook her head. "No, it isn't Western, it's Midwestern," she said. "I feel like I talk like everyone, but I know I don't. The guys where I work... I mean, where I once worked, used to kid me about it."

Oh god, what a flub! I hope Kelly didn't notice.

"I'm originally from Illinois. I did go to college." She was so flustered by her slip 'where I work' that she nearly added 'to Journalism School," but caught herself at the last moment. She didn't want anyone to guess she was a reporter. She had already flubbed once and was uneasy about that slip.

I hope Kelly doesn't mention it to any of the Masters. But she seems a bit flaky; maybe she didn't notice it.

"I dropped out of high school," Kelly admitted. "That was in Pocono. Pennsylvania. I was thrilled to get a modeling job in my senior year. It didn't pay great, but the men's mag people all liked me 'cause I never minded taking my clothes off for photos. All of them had shots of me in them, and I got to go to New York a lot. I figured I'd make a career of it."