Chapter 17: the auction

*With thanks to my editor – Chris6160

Author’s note: this, like other parts of the story, is about BDSM. It is the story of a consenting female submissive. If such subject material does not appeal to you then please choose not to read it. The law in many countries is such that consent is not a legal defence against committing “harm” to another. The definition of “harm” in this sense is very unclear. To be safe only the very few images that exist which show red marks consistent with a light punishment can be shown in this series.

It had all the time been one of husband’s greatest fantasises to have my body sold at a slave auction. That is not to say that I was against the idea. Being sold at auction was one of my two biggest unfulfilled fantasies too. The other is being put on trial naked before a kangaroo court. The issue had been with my insistence on no safe words and no limits. The reality was that some limits were important to, for example, exclude the risk of death from asphyxia or permanent injury from knife play. I was eager to but not particularly enthusiastic about having sexual intercourse with anyone. I am far from being a prude and was happy for anyone to see and fondle my body. In fact I welcomed the possibility. I was also not all fussy about who was allowed to inflict some form of cruelty on my naked body. Nor was I even very particular about who I fucked. I had “slept” with much older men that I did not really discover attractive because I wanted to make love with someone who would view it as a special treat. I also did it for the humiliation and to defy the mindset of a vanilla lifestyle. The point was that, when it came, to fucking, I wasn’t quite comfortable with anyone, at all. I had a very wide range of acceptable sexual partners but there was a slight but definite residual prudishness.

Just for the record I was brought up according to very strict religious and moral values. My liberation from the mind-numbing set of inhibitions that it created was so profound that it transformed my life very much for the better. The key was submission – allowing someone else to completely control my body and actions. But the strict upbringing still left its mark. It was certainly behind the sense that the sexiness of my body, the urges that it created in others (and in myself), led my inner self to want to see it punished for the sinful thoughts and deeds it inspired. As I have described before it was my inner, prudish alter ego that wanted my body cruelly treated.

On this occasion husband had been active in his internet research and had found a venue which held occasional BDSM slave auctions. The rules were explicit. All slaves must consent in writing to being sold and would be required to specify in writing their limits and safe words (normally a traffic light system). Whether consensual or not any activity that imposed either a risk to life or to permanent physical harm were strictly prohibited. Use of slaves would be restricted to club premises where panic buttons were available in every room. To make it even better the club was located in a very discreet area of a well-known Spanish island.

This sounded ideal in one key respect. Despite having very few limits I would be able to maintain the part truth, part delusion that I had no limits or safe words. The only drawback was that I would be unable to be selective about who would fuck my body. Another residual inhibition from my upbringing was a horror of prostitution. I had never accepted money for sexual intercourse. On this occasion I would come perilously close, merely by being sold as a slave. But there is a distinction – it would not be me receiving payment from a bidder.

Husband begged me to fulfil his fantasy of seeing my body sold at auction. In this respect I did demand payment of sorts from husband. My price was some very expensive jewellery and a large selection of some almost equally expensive perfumes. If necessary, I could all the time resort to simply lying there, letting the owner of my body fuck it if I couldn’t participate with enthusiasm. I would be far from the first woman to do so. As you may have already noticed I am a highly sexual person and it is my instinct to be an enthusiastic participant. In fact, I would guess that I spend very little of my time not thinking about sex. I even regularly dream about it. My inner self also wants my body to suffer for my massive sexual appetite.

We took a taxi from the airport to the club, checking in during the afternoon. The auction would be the next evening so we unpacked and relaxed in the room. The club rules were simple – clothing was optional – fetish clothing, nudity or even typical vanilla clothing were all entirely acceptable in public areas. When we arrived we saw one or two slaves being walked naked on leashes and others in lingerie or swimwear. I tried on a series of outfits. Husband’s view was that some free advertising was highly desirable but that we needed to leave a small degree of surprise for the big evening. We would leave bondage restraints and the like until the inspection of the slaves in advance of the auction. Clothing would need to be minimal, not quite nude but enough to advertise the quality of the body to be sold – mine. Since, male as well as female slaves were for sale the near nudity of my body would help to make clear which of the two of us was the slave.

This is the outfit that husband finally decided on. I confess to slight disappointment at not being required to be naked. Nonetheless, I was very aroused by the wondered that almost all of my body would be seen by potential buyers. I actually was starting to regret that we hadn’t auctioned my body much earlier.

I must admit to a quick attack of nerves as husband and I wandered into the club restaurant, I was quickly put at ease by the number of nude or nearly nude bodies. We waited to be shown to a table. As we did so I couldn’t help but notice that it was far from just couples. There was a significant number of single, fully clothed males. I presume that most of them were not gay because of the obvious interest they were showing in my body.

The meal was a buffet. Husband suggested that I should go first in case out table was mistakenly re-allocated. I walked up to the salad buffet as slowly and sexily as I could. It only took seconds until there was a leering man at my shoulder. I bore in mind husband’s advice about free advertising of my body for sale.

“Good grief, you are magnificent. Are you being sold in the auction tomorrow evening?”

“Yes, my body will be auctioned tomorrow” I answered with an encouraging smile”

“What are your limits?”

” I have none. The winning bidder may do absolutely anything they like with my body”

As I said this he was sipping on a drink and came close to choking on it.

” Do you have any idea what I would do with a body like that?”

“Absolutely whatever you like.” I replied.

He left. From a distance I could see him engaged in excited conversation with several other men. It seemed the word was spreading rapidly.

As I sat down husband went to the buffet for his starter. I no time a man sat in his seat.

“Is it true that you are being auctioned tomorrow”

“Yes my body will be sold by auction tomorrow”

He leaned forward, stroking my thigh.

“Is it also true that you have no limits”.

“Yes, the winning bidder will be able to do anything they please with my body”

Without any exaggeration the man was drooling, He moved his hand nearer to my pussy.

“My body hasn’t been sold yet”

He took the hint and left. As husband sat down I went up to collect my main course. Again there was a nudge at my elbow. It was a late middle aged woman with a slightly masculine hair style.

“I would love a body like that” she said.

“Good exercise and diet all the time helps” I replied.

“No you don’t find out. I take it that your body is being auctioned tomorrow. I would love a sexy young body like that for my cruel pleasures”

She squeezed one of my tits. I pulled away.

“Look, you will have plenty of opportunity to feel my body during the pre-auction inspection tomorrow”.

It hadn’t occurred to me that I could be bought by another woman. I didn’t necessarily object but I imagined that another woman might know better how to create both pleasure and pain in one of their own gender. This one seemed more set on pain.

I sat down with my meal. This time husband did not leave immediately.

“I am so proud of you. Your body is a sensation. All the men want it. There is no danger it will be left unsold tomorrow”.

“Not just the men, it seems”, I said, nodding in the direction of the woman who had squeezed my tit.

Husband looked thoughtful and went to choose his main course.

As usual husband and I went to the bar after dinner. It was crowded and, with free advertising in mind, I edged my way through a crowd of single mem. I took care to ensure that my nude flesh rubbed against them as I passed. Husband and I engaged them in conversation once we had bought drinks. They had already heard that my body would be auctioned without restrictions. There was not much need to “advertise” my body when the rumour mill would do it for me. Inwardly my exhibitionist instincts and the degree of humiliation were resulting in a high level of sexual arousal for me. The whole occasion was one of my sexiest fantasies coming true. I was impatient to be both inspected and then sold.

The next day husband and I spent some time beside the pool. The instructions for slaves to be auctioned would be to report to the inspection room by 2pm. Inspection would be from 2:30 to 5:00 with the auction to start at 5:45. The auction would be for the use of the slave’s body until 12:00 the next day unless otherwise specified. All slaves should report naked with footwear, slave collar and with wrists cuffed behind their back. Husband took me there with a leash attached to my collar. He handed the leash to one of the organisers who checked my name on a list. He took me to a room with “female slaves” written on a sign above the door. It was a long thin room with a series of rings fixed to the wall. There were already a number of naked women fixed by a chain from their neck collars to the rings. I was shown to a ring and I was similarly attached by my slave collar. With a marker pen he wrote a number on the skin of my abdomen – 42. He showed me a sign which said: “Safe word(s); none, limits: none”. I confirmed it to be correct.

“You must stand with your legs open and be prepared to turn to allow your ass to be inspected”

This was the moment of truth. There was no going back. My body would be auctioned to the highest bidder for whatever sexual and sadistic pleasure they desired. It was husband’s fantasy as much as mine, more than mine. I must admit a little anxiety but there was much, much more excitement and arousal. I found the idea of my body being available for inspection as a commodity for sale and my flesh being sold for use and abuse very arousing indeed. I am fairly sure that my pussy was moist at the thought.

I wanted desperately for my body to be forcibly exhibited as a commodity for sale. Even better, after my nude flesh had been groped by countless hands would come the auction. The anticipation of my nude body being put on a stage in front of numerous bidders as a mere item to be sold for whatever sadistic pleasures they wanted was truly a deeply held fantasy about to become real.

The doors opened and the first potential bidders flooded in. A couple of men used the opportunity to quickly run their hands over my body but, as one said to the other:

“There is no chance of either of us being able to afford this one.”

Unfortunately the woman who had squeezed my tit by the buffet the previous evening turned up. I instinctively disliked her but my naked body was restrained and available for her inspection, as it was for anyone else. She was slow and very thorough in her inspection. Both nipples were squeezed hard. My labia was harshly grabbed and pulled and my pussy probed. She forcibly grabbed my body and turned it to examine my ass.

“Do you like it?” I asked, an inappropriate question from a slave which went unnoticed.

“Very much. It would make a lovely pain toy. I will be bidding. Stay still. I want to test your reaction to pain”.

She had with her a notebook and pencil, a very sharpened pencil. She jabbed it hard to one thigh and then to my vulva.”

As a slave for sale I didn’t know what to do. On the one hand I was fairly sure that an inspection did not include torture by sharp pencil. On the other I presumed that potential bidders were entitled to test the pain tolerance of their intended purchase. With my body restrained I had no choice. I just stood still and took the pain.

I was glad to see her move on. The next was a young man in a designer suit. He oozed wealth.. He fondled my body gently, running a finger over my nipples and, almost certainly, his probing finger found a moist pussy. Not only was the humiliation of being inspected a massive turn-on but being gently touched by a sexy young man was very arousing in its own right.

“Such a beautiful, sexy body. It is really an appealing package to do anything I like with it”

This was much more like it. This was all that I hoped from the inspection – to show off my body and be complimented by an attractive, suave and probably rich young man. Bring on the next one.

There were many takers for the opportunity to inspect my body. There were a number of attractive men and a number of apparently wealthy ones. One that stood out was a well-spoken well -dressed man who I would guess was in his early 40s. He had an air of certainty and authority about him. After running his hands over my naked flesh he toyed with my clitoris, watching my face carefully. I smiled and thrust my body towards him.

“Your body is close to perfect. I want it so much. If my bid wins you can expect much pleasure but also plenty of pain. You may be surprised by both extremes”

With an encouraging smile I said “Have you inspected my body fully?”

“No, not at all, but I am planning to win the auction for it. I would rather complete the inspection when it is my property”

Again, for an exhibitionist and submissive like me the inspection process, with a few exceptions, became a fantasy that I did not realise I had. Good for husband for bringing me into it. It was so very sexy for my body to be admired and fondled as a commodity for sale. The wondered that each one who inspected my body were thinking of what they would like to do with it was simply delicious.

I was slightly disappointed when the inspections were over but I knew that there was much more adventure to come. The male slaves were the first to be auctioned so us females were given the opportunity for an alcoholic drink and a cigarette. I, of course, sought to make myself more brazen for the auction with several glasses of wine.

As the male auctions drew to a close our hands were again fastened behind our backs and leashes attached to our collars. We were lined up to the stairs up to the stage. Neck collars and the signs detailing our limits were removed. The idea, I think, was to display our nude bodies as much as efficient. Restraining our hands behind our backs was designed to prevent the more inhibited slaves from trying to cover our most crucial body parts with our hands. I had absolutely no shame or inhibitions about my nude body being displayed on stage in front of a large group of people. On the contrary I couldn’t wait for it to happen.

Waiting for 41 previous auctions was long and tedious but I was impatiently looking forward to being sold. Partly this was attributable to taking too much benefit of free wine but partly I wanted to show off my body to an admiring crowd. Eventually, I heard the announcer:

.”This slave has an exquisitely sexy body and she has agreed that you can do absolutely anything you want with it. There are no restrictions and no safe words. Just do as you please with it. With a body thar sexy I am sure you can find plenty of uses. I don’t expect her to get any sleep tonight. Come up number 42″

I strode onto the stage confidently, walking slowly and sexily. There was a small dais on which the slave being sold was to stand. I faced the bidders, legs aside and wiggling. I turned around, lifting up my hands to show my ass and again wiggling. I turned again to face the crowd. Cheers and applause broke out.

The announcer came over and ran his hands over the front of my body.

“Just look how sexy this body is. Just think what you could do to it. Her pussy is perfect for fucking. See how willing she is to be sold as your slave. Dig deep into your bank account for this one. We don’t often get one as good as this.”

I smiled and wiggled sexily.

“Do I hear a bid of $5000?” several hands went up.

“$6000?”

I started to look around the room. I could see husband giving me a thumbs up sign. I was partly doing this for him so it was good to be appreciated. What struck me much more strongly was how much I relished the situation, how deeply turned on I was. Looking at the faces of the almost wholly male bidders you could see the intense desire for my body. In some senses (and sexily so) it was a deep humiliation for my naked body to be offered to the highest bidder to use and abuse as they please. But the feeling of having in the order of 50 pairs of eyes all intensely focused on my body, all intensely desiring to be one to abuse it, was extremely sexy. The fact that it would cost the winner big money was further evidence of the desire my body was inspiring.

“$8,000”

I saw several hands go up including that of the sadistic woman. I expected to be bought by a sadist – I had no illusions, why else would they be bidding – but I was uneasy about that one.

“10,000?”

To my relief the woman dropped out.

The announcer interrupted.

“Come on. This body is worth much more, particularly as it comes with unrestrained use. Just see what you can do”

I wiggled sexily to attract more bids, The announcer picked up a riding crop. Three hard strikes to my thighs then three hard strikes to my abdomen. Trying to stoke up the bidding, I quickly realized. I kept smiling after each stroke and pushed my body forward to take more. Although it owed more to the alcohol I had consumed it gave the impression (with some justification) that I would welcome abuse of my body. The announcer asked the camera to close in on the red marks.

“See how well this lovely body responds to punishment. Look at those sexy red marks. Do I have $12,000?”

In the end the bidding reached $16,000. An incredible sum for less than one day’s unrestricted use and abuse of my body. An official came onto the stage and fitted a collar and leash and walked me off stage to applause and cheers. I briefly saw husband who mouthed “proud of you” as I was walked off. The official tugged at the leash and I was taken to a room to await collection by the new owner of my body.