Blog 18. The Slave Auction

15th December 2004

First the family news.

Sorry it is two weeks since the last blog. I spent last Wednesday evening erecting bookshelves in the spare room ready for when it becomes Sarah's workroom. Sarah has definitely decided to move in with me next weekend and we've been busy packing a lot of her stuff into boxes and transferring them to the guestroom at my place. I will hire a van to move the larger stuff later. Of course, Mother still doesn't really approve, but she and Sarah talk to each other now on more or less equal terms without the frostiness of a few months ago. Mother actually seems a lot happier and she is making friends with others at the store. With Christmas almost upon us, she is having to work harder too especially as the store is having a pre-Christmas sale. We had her and dad over for a meal last Sunday and when I listened in to her thoughts, none were concerned with the bridge club so hopefully that episode of her life is in the past. Dad seemed happier too and at one point when I tuned in to his thoughts, he was planning giving mother a spanking at bedtime for being a bit sharp with Sarah over something that was quite trivial. Seemed to me he was just looking for an excuse to bare her bottom. At least he seems to be the one in control now.

Jean is disappointed in not being able to move into her new house in time for Christmas. Still problems with the heating system but we've invited her to stay over here for Christmas Day and Boxing Day. I know we'll still be in a muddle and Jean being Jean just laughs about it and has offered to help us sort things out. We didn't want her to be alone on those two days and no workmen will work on her house until after the New Year. She'll pay a firm of removers to move her stuff but Sarah and I have promised to help her sort things out when that happens.

Kathleen McCogan surprised us by spending a night with Prof. Rowlandson last weekend. I knew that their relationship had returned to near normal but I hadn't expected her to go back to having sex with him. However, from what I read of their thoughts, it seems that Kathy kept in full charge of the situation and enjoyed several good fucks. "He does do it well and makes me orgasm so powerfully that it seemed worth taking the risk," she told me when we had coffee together one morning.

My own work is going well and the ring is proving to be both a help and a distraction. It was a help when I listened in to a discussion between members of a neighbouring lab on their project and found some of their ideas and techniques could be incorporated into my own. It's not that each lab works on secret projects, it's more that we work in isolation from one another and only mix on semi-social occasions or if we meet in the cafeteria. The distraction comes when I listen in to the sexual thoughts and doings of the students and staff, particularly the female ones. I now know more of the gossip of who is sleeping with whom and the sex preferences and drug habits of the students than I should but sometimes a titillating story comes out. One such occurred on Monday lunchtime.

My experiment didn't end until well into the lunchtime period and the cafeteria was packed but fortunately a corner table cleared when I was close by with my tray. I sat down and for a few moments had the table to myself. Not for long though. A girl student paused by the empty seat and asked, "Is this seat free?" I guessed she was a first year student about nineteen years old and by the look of her, she was, or at least had been, high of one of the recreational drugs. Her eyes had that glazed, faraway look and her actions a little slower than normal. "Yes, it's all yours now," I replied. My smile was not returned. <<He's a bit old for a student, perhaps one of the professors. Why is the stupid bugger grinning at me? Wonder if he'll bid at the slave auction?">> "Slave auction?" I wonder what that was all about? I quietly turned the ring on to the inside of my hand so as to shield it from some of the background thoughts that came through. As soon as she sat down, the girl ferreted in her purse and put a mobile phone on the table and unfolded an A5 sheet of paper and silently read,

Rightly guessing that I ought to make notes I opened my briefcase and took out a pad and pen and put a textbook on the table alongside my plate. It was not at all unusual to see students working and eating at the same time so my actions only disturbed her thoughts for a few minutes and then she began to read again.

The girl, I found later her name was Jane, read the form several times and then sat back in her chair, nibbled at her roll and fantasised at what might happen to her. I'd already found out that women fantasise about sexual things at least as much as men and a good many imagine themselves to be true slaves of wicked men who whip and rape them unmercifully. It is only fantasy and they would be severely traumatised if it happened in reality. Such, I am sure was the case with Jane and with her, probably whatever drug she had taken, heightened the imagery of the fantasy. Had she been treated like in her imagination she would have ended up in hospital. Still nibbling sparrow-sized bites from her roll, she sat back in the chair and closed her eyes. The images I received as she looked in the mirror of the dressing room was of a woman with Jane's face but with considerably more bust and showing a nest of pubic hair peeping from the sides of her thong. Again I have put her thoughts and mind pictures into a readable narrative for your enjoyment. Remember these are thought images, not reality. They only happened in her mind.