"But why an auction? It's just making me into a prostitute!" Jill had her angry and hurt look; one, which Mark knew, meant she was about to dig her heels in.
"No, it won't!" Mark had to tread carefully now if he was going to get his beautiful wife to go along with the plan. "What it is, er, is instead of the old seedy thing of throwing the men's car keys onto a table and then letting the women pick up a key at random, the men bid for the woman of their choice. This way, the men get a chance to have a choice of who they take, the husbands might make a bit of money if their wife is a good looker. And the women get a chance to be paraded in front of an audience," he finished lamely.
Jill still didn't seem convinced. " Oh yes, and what about any unfortunate women who don't get bought; they are going to be mortified. And the husband who might be left with his own wife!" she put a hand to her mouth, stifling an involuntary smile.
"That won't happen. Only good-looking women are invited to compete, and of course all the men will want a woman for the night. That's why they're going, after all," explained Mark. He knew that his wife's objections were mainly just a show of reluctance; she was as keen on this as he was. They had agreed in principle to go to a swinger's party, ages ago but were only now getting the details sorted out.
"So I go on show in front of a load of randy old goats and then get taken off by the one with the most money?" Mark shrugged, "I suppose that's about it, but I promise that none of the men are going to be too ugly for you to stomach." Jill seemed to be giving it some thought. "Okay, lets do it, if that's what you want."
Mark relaxed, letting his breath out slowly, not wanting his wife to see his relief.
Later, over drinks, they began to discuss the details. Mark explained that the auction would take place at a local motel, in the evening. The place had a small cabaret room with a low stage on which the women would be displayed. It would be like a sort of Miss World contest, in that they would each be brought on singly, then as a group and then singly again for the bidding.
"Will we all be naked all the time?" Jill asked.
"Well, all the details haven't been finalised yet but you'll probably keep your clothes on, at least until the bidding starts", bluffed Mark, who in truth didn't know for sure.
"If you think I'm going to parade in the nude for a gang of men then you must be very optimistic!" she snapped.
Mark had met the man a few weeks earlier when he had visited a lap-dancing club with some colleagues from work. The man hadn't been a member of their party but he began chatting to Mark, casually, about the girls' relative attributes and performing skills. They had gotten on well. The mans' name was Harry and he was a lot older than Mark, about 50 or so, Mark guessed. It seemed that Harry was a man of some means, owning property and a motel in a nearby town.
Harry observed that the lap-dancers, although very attractive were really just a fantasy; no real contact was possible, and even if a girl could be bought then it would be simply a commercial transaction on her part. Sex with a price tag was a poor substitute for a varied diet of real women. "Yes," said Mark, "That's all very well, but how can any man, except the most handsome or famous, ever manage to get his hands on so many women? When you have a job to hold down, and a wife to keep happy, then even finding the time to look for willing women was difficult." Harry laughed, you had to get organised, he said; you had to find a group of like-minded men who would lend their own women in expectation of receiving similar favours. That way, with an ever-widening circle of such acquaintances then there would be a continuous supply of women for his use. Mark tried to follow the strangers' meaning through an alcoholic haze. "You mean wife-swapping!" he almost shouted. "Oh, that's no use. You'd need to get her involved, and that's too complicated. Simple, anonymous sex is what we want; no names, no personal details exchanged, that's the best."
Harry shook his head sadly, " I thought you were listening, lad. But you've not heard a word. I'm telling you that there's a way to get all the cunt you want and you go off dreaming again. Look, if you want to receive then you have to give a little. And you'll get plenty if you can persuade your wife to play ball; most women will, you know. They love to be the subject of a strangers' lust. And, remember; an excited, nervous woman who may or may not be willing, is infinitely more interesting than any paid slack-eyed whore" Suddenly Harry stood up and moved as if to leave. He reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a business card. "Give me a ring, and we'll talk again," he said, "goodbye." And with that he walked directly out of the club.
After the man left, Mark watched some more dancing but now he saw how dis-interested the girls were. Their expressions were fixed in smiles but their tired eyes revealed the lies. Feeling strangely dissatisfied he had gone home, leaving the other men to it.
"So how do I have to dress?" she asked. "I suppose something kinky, sussies, or rubber gear or something?"
"No, Harry says to wear whatever we like, whatever we think is sexy."
Mark had called Harry shortly after their first meeting in the club. They had had regular meetings in the evenings after work since then. Harry had invited Mark to join the "little swingers gang" that he had been organising for a couple of years now.
"But you'll have to bring your own little woman; no free rides. So get on with talking her into it. And of course, I'll need to see a couple of photos of her; Jill isn't it? No offence meant, but the high quality of the group has to be maintained."
Mark had taken his time with Jill, broaching the subject of swinging in roundabout ways. They had even acted out fantasies in the bedroom of Jill being taken by a stranger; sometimes she was "raped", others consenting to be shared with another man.
Eventually it had been Jill who had suggested they try swinging. Mark had felt a bit hurt, even though it was his idea. He told Jill that he didn't think they should get into a regular thing with some other couple. That seemed sort of sordid. No, lets see if we can find a "scene" which will be so different that we will only need to join it occasionally; giving us something to look forward to. That is, if we decide to do it more than once.
It was another evening met in a pub. Harry bought the beers. "So. Have you decided to join us or what?" he asked.
"Yes. But there's just one or two things I need to get straight," muttered mark. "You see, what about Jill? I mean, will she find herself with some ugly old git whose going to turn her right off? If that happens she wont give us another opportunity to swap again!" Harry smiled, "Don't worry, lad. She'll be all right. The men are all reasonably good-looking, if not all Hugh Grants!" He chuckled at his little joke.
"So. Have you made a decision? If you've brought a couple of photos, I will be able to tell you if you can join us."
Mark brought out the half dozen pictures of Jill he had taken over the past couple of years. Jill in a bikini on holiday. Jill at a party wearing a posh frock. Jill gardening in jeans. Harry looked them over with approval. "Very nice, lad." He smiled, "she'll do nicely"
The two men then talked about the details; time and place, Jill's' clothes, protocol.
"Protocol?" asked Mark.
"Oh yes, lad. There's things to remember to do, and not do." He told Mark how he must not interfere in the proceedings once they had begun. They were both expected to abide by the rules of the club and they must not dispute with the bidders.
"Even if you don't like the winner or the choice of women you are left with you must say nothing. And." Here his voice became more urgent with a firm authority Mark hadn't noticed before. "And you must not try to prevent your wife being led away by her buyer. You'd be surprised how many men suddenly lose their nerve when they see her go with another man. Neither of you will be allowed to change your minds".
"So. It's all arranged, is it?" Jill asked, a bit sniffilly.
"Only if you are in agreement," answered Mark.
"I don't have to stand naked, do I?"
"No, just wearing whatever you feel happy in," said Mark, who in truth was hoping she would allow herself to be displayed completely nude. He had had to explain to Harry that she would not participate unless that was clearly understood. Harry had accepted her condition reluctantly. He had been hoping the couple would be a little more submissive but he didn't want to risk losing their involvement. Harry had followed Jill secretly a couple of times as she had come into town to work or shop and had decided that she was a very good-looking woman. She would do very nicely.
They decided that Jill would wear simple, rather conservative clothes. They went out shopping for a blue pleated skirt, tiny white panties, a white blouse, and high heeled pumps with ankle straps; she would go bra-less.
The auction was planned for the following Tuesday evening. Their nervousness grew with every passing hour.
During the late afternoon of Tuesday, Harry phoned to check that they were still on. Mark assured him that they would be there.
Jill took a long slow bath and washed her blonde hair. Mark watched her dry herself and then put on a little make-up, his heart beginning to beat more quickly. When she was dressed and ready she looked so beautiful he almost changed his mind and wanted to have sex with her there and then and to hell with the auction.
"No Mark, you know Harry's rule; we can't have sex during the day before!" Mark knew the rule but felt hurt that his wife was so keen to abide by it.
Mark drove to the motel, a journey of about an hour. The tension in the car was almost measurable. They hardly spoke. When they arrived, a sign read, "no vacancies". A dozen or so cars were already parked. The place looked respectable, it was fairly new and was well maintained. They parked outside cabin 32 and went inside. There was no need to book in; Harry had sent the key through the post. Still unspeaking, Jill tidied her make-up and they had a drink from a free mini-bar in the corner of the room.
After they had waited nervously for twenty minutes, the phone rang, making them both jump. It was Harry. They were to come to the office. "Remember, Mark; you must not come in, you will go directly to the cabaret room!"
They walked together to the office. At the door they kissed and Jill went inside. Mark stood for a moment and then, with a sense of loss, walked to the large building at the end of the car park.
A smirking doorman/bouncer let him in. His eyes slowly became accustomed to the gloom and he saw Harry approaching. "Mark, good to see you!" he boomed, shaking hands. He led Mark through a smoky, rather tatty cabaret room to a polished glass topped bar.
"Have a drink." As Mark sipped at a single malt he looked around the room. He mentioned to Harry that there seemed to be a large number of men present, perhaps fifteen or twenty of them.
"I didn't expect so many unaccompanied men", said Mark, feeling increasingly uneasy.
"The more the merrier, eh?" Harry grinned and slapped him on the shoulder.
At that moment spotlights illuminated the small raised stage and a female stripper came on. She was very pretty but the audience didn't seem to be very interested, Mark had the feeling they were paying him more attention. Whenever he looked away from Harry he felt surreptitious eyes turning away from him.
At that moment the phone on the bar rang and Harry answered it. As he spoke he looked directly at Marks face. "Yeh it's me. All ready? Is she being good? Oh dear did she? Did you? Good, good. Right then, let's get her on." He put the phone down and spoke to Mark, "Now then lad", said Harry, in his "down to business" tone. "It's just about time for the proceedings to begin. We'll go and sit down in a moment. Just let me tell you about a slight change in the programme. We often insert a theme to make things more interesting, and tonight the theme is bondage. I'm glad to say Jill seems to be very enthusiastic!"
"Jill?" exclaimed Mark. "What do you mean?"
"She's a very talented girl, lad. Now go and sit down with my two friends here while I get things started." As Harry turned away, Mark tried to follow but was blocked by two muscular men who guided him to a table and then sat down on each side of him.
On the stage, the stripper cut short her gyrations as Harry approached with a microphone in his hand.
When Jill entered the reception office she was met by a shy looking young man in his early twenties. "Hello, you must be Jill", he said. Jill just nodded, she felt even more nervous with this young man who must have known why she was here. The young man came from behind the desk, " I just have to check you out; sort of see that you are suitably dressed, okay?"
"What!" she exclaimed, because he was already lifting her skirt. "Get off me, you little shit!" Without a pause the man slapped her hard across the face, stunning her; no one had ever hit her in her whole life! As her head reeled he pushed her face down across the desk and pulled her arms behind her. He tied her thumbs together, using a noose of thin cord, which must have been prepared earlier because it took only a moment to render her helpless. Keeping her face pressed onto the melamine surface with one hand he used the other to pull her skirt up over her bottom. She felt her panties being tugged down to her knees, and then, after being aware of him fumbling around for something, felt the most awful burning pain across the cheeks of her bottom. He pulled her upright again and she saw he was holding a very thin cane, the sort that school teachers once used to punish naughty children. The pain it had caused to her was incredible! "Now then, just stand there for a moment," he ordered. As she stood, he crouched down and pulled her panties down to her ankles. "Step out of them!" he stammered. Jill obeyed; she didn't want another taste of that cane.
"You certainly are a stupid sort of a cunt," he explained, "You've just changed the nature of the game. You only had to do as you were told but you failed the test. And now, well like I said, it's a new game."
He picked up the phone and dialled, "It's Simon. She's all ready. No, she point-blank refused, so I've given her a stroke of Mister Cane and she's feeling a lot better. Okay, on our way." Putting down the phone he reached into a desk drawer and brought out an object. Forcing her jaws open by squeezing both sides of her jawbone inwards, he pushed it into her mouth. It was a plastic ball-gag, hollow and with holes all around its wall. He strapped it in place by a leather strap, which buckled at the back of her head. Jill could breathe okay, but the helpless feeling of being a non-person it engendered was indescribable.
"Okay cunt, follow me!" he ordered, and without checking to see if she was obeying him he walked to a door at the rear of the room. Jill followed him like the muzzled bitch puppy she had become.
"Testing, testing!" yelled Harry into the microphone, tapping it with his finger to make sure it was working. "Friends, welcome to my place. I hope you've all enjoyed the show so far," murmurs of concurrence answered him, "good, good. Well, to finish off the evening we have a guest performer. She's a lovely little lady by the name of Jill." Mark stirred at hearing his wife's name, as if to protest, but one of his unknown companions touched his arm and gave a slow shake of his head, and he kept quiet.
"Now then," continued Harry, "Jill was originally a volunteer for tonight but sadly, or not, as how you see it, she declined to play the game during the initial part of the procedure and is now the principal performer in our bondage theme show. We may thank her husband, Mark for her presence here tonight. Gentlemen, I give you Jill."
She followed the man through the door and down a short corridor, passing a large kitchen where cooks were preparing hot spicy food. One Asian looking man watched as she passed the open door. When he reached the end door the man opened it and gestured for her to go through first. It was darker and Jill could hear an amplified voice booming out. She was shocked to hear her name announced and a hand pushed her forward through a curtain and she was on a small stage, under hot bright spotlights! She had to squint through her eyelids to see. A large man in a suit was grinning at her and applause from an unseen audience was greeting her appearance.
Simon prodded her forward with the tip of his cane until she was standing in the centre of the raised platform. He came and stood beside her and used the cane to raise her skirt a couple of inches to reveal her pubic mound. He made her turn around and did the same again, to show her naked bottom and then walked off the stage.
Jill waited with trepidation and fear wondering what was to happen to her.
Mark watched with a mixture of apprehension and excited anticipation as his lovely wife stood waiting with fear across her face. Around him the men sniggered and made obscene comments about her.
When the sounds suddenly sank to a murmur both he and his wife looked around to see the reason. A huge man, fat and naked was approaching her from behind. Mark gasped and almost called out to her. The man's cock was circumcised and partly erect.
Jill suddenly became aware of a presence behind her and tried to turn to see him properly but the man grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back sharply. She was pulled back against his chest and his other arm came around her and he tore her blouse open, revealing her firm, pointy breasts. Immediately, his hand dropped to the waistband of her skirt and tugged at it until the fastener broke and the skirt was allowed to slide down her legs to the floor. He dragged her away from the remains of her clothes. Now he removed the gag. Jill had a thousand things she wanted to scream at these awful people, she wanted to tell them how humiliated she felt, and that they had no right to use her as a fuck-piece. But now she could speak she kept quiet, afraid of their anger.
The man grabbed the woman's bush of pubic hair and dragged her off the stage, parading her between the tables so the audience could get a close-up look at her. She cried with pain as he led her along, her hips thrust out before her. As she passed Mark's table she saw him and glared at him. She tried to speak but the words wouldn't come.
One of Mark's guards squeezed the cheek of her bottom and then smirked at him as if to say, "what are you going to do about it?" Mark wanted to sink down in his seat, to become invisible.
The fat man took her back to the small stage where he sat her on a table, facing forward. She looked sad and pathetic as she waited while he made some sort of preparations. The man was pulling down an apparatus, which lowered from the ceiling and consisted of two ropes with leather straps on the ends. When the straps were close enough, the man took her ankles and pulled her legs up so she fell onto her back. While he buckled a strap to each ankle, his flabby body kept brushing against her as he moved about, revolting her. Occasionally his ugly cock came close to her face and she knew that soon she was going to have to suck it, the thought alone made her retch.
And then, her ankles were being pulled upwards, her legs straightening above her. When her bottom began to lift, the man helped her up by supporting, firmly but surprisingly gently, her neck and shoulders in his big hands. She began to panic; she was being hoisted upside down into the air! She began to struggle, wriggling violently to try to get free. "Behave, cunt!" snapped the man, but he didn't hit her because a moment later she was swinging by her ankles.
This was all going horribly wrong, thought Mark as he saw his wife swing; this wasn't what he had had in mind!
The man climbed up onto the table and Jill's position and height was adjusted until her head was level with his hips. Jill's struggles subsided as she dangled facing the man's fat cock, which was becoming harder. She could see a bead of cum seeping from its' evil-looking slit. The man gave her bottom a hard slap to swing her body around a few degrees. He came close to her and put one arm around her waist and lifted her a few inches. This allowed her knees to bend a little and she felt him touch her vagina with his free hand. She gasped as he parted her lips and then pressed his mouth to them, pushing his tongue deep into her.
In the audience Mark heard her moan as the man sucked and lapped at his wife's pussy.
Jill felt herself moisten with juice as the man gave her the cunt-lick of her life! She pushed herself up against his mouth, squirmed her groin around to obtain even more pleasure; her knees were now completely bent, resting on his shoulders, her thighs pressing against his ears! She almost felt sorry when, a moment later, he took his mouth away. From her awkward position she could see he had turned partly away from her. She was aware that the audience had become quiet again, waiting.
Marks emotions were on a roller-coaster! He was excited by the sight of his wife in such intimate contact with the stranger, but was dismayed and shocked by her obvious enjoyment of the mans handling of her. What was he doing now?
The naked man was reaching behind his back to where an Asian man in kitchen workers uniform was passing an object to him.
From her inverted position, Jill saw the man take something in his hand. She heard the audience sniggering, someone shouted but she didn't catch the words. Then the man waved something in front of her face. It was a wooden pepper grinder, the sort that waiters twist over your dinner; it was as thick as a mans wrist and about two feet long. For a moment she was puzzled; what was he doing with that? Then, as realisation hit her, the audience guffawed as the look of horror spread over her lovely face.
"Oh no!" She cried, please don't do that to me!" Jill had never had children and knew that her vagina was not as large and accommodating as some women's were.
The man still held her around the waist; with his free hand he pressed the rounded, bulbous top of the grinder into the juices around her pussy.
"Oh, oh, aargh!" she gasped, as the grinder was forced between the lips of her cunt, it was too thick, much wider than a mans penis! The man twisted it in the creamy fluid and her lips parted obediently, allowing the wide object into the opening. She tried to pull away from it but the man held her waist firmly and the awful intruder squeezed four inches into her body.