Sidney’s Going to Auction

Sidney is kidnapped. She wakes up in an abandoned hotel room with other girls. She is punished for her disobedience.

The last thing I remember is leaving the library at the university. There was a van outside, that I didn't recognize. Now, I find myself surrounded by other women, all college age, their eyes wide with terror and confusion. We’re in some kind of abandoned hotel, the walls peeling and the air musty. I try to move, but I’m chained to the wall, my wrists and ankles bound tightly.

Suddenly, a man in a golden mask enters the room. He’s tall and imposing, his eyes cold and calculating behind the mask. He doesn’t speak, but he moves with purpose, heading straight for me. I shrink back against the headboard, my heart pounding in my chest.

He fastens the cuffs around my wrists and leads me to the bathroom. He hooks the cuffs to the ceiling, leaving me suspended and vulnerable. I can feel the chill of the room on my skin as he cuts away my clothes with a sharp blade, leaving me naked and exposed.

The man shaves me and washes and cleans me, his touch clinical and detached. He lifts my leg onto a bench and uses the showerhead to stimulate my clit. The water is cold and hard, and I buck back and forth, trying to escape the sensation. But it’s no use. He continues until I orgasm, my body betraying my mind.

Turning off the water, he tastes me, his tongue hot and wet on my sensitive flesh. “Hmmm, delicious,” he murmurs, before washing my vagina with a tropical-scented soap.

Once I’m clean, he dries me off and places a collar around my neck. He dresses me in a long, elegant red dress and leads me down the hotel’s flights of stairs. The other girls follow, their eyes downcast and their bodies trembling.

We’re led to a room filled with about 20-30 people, all wearing masks. The man tugs on my leash, guiding me towards the center of the room.

“Today is a feast to announce our partnership,” he says, his voice booming through the room of seated guests. “Tomorrow is auction day.”

The men raise their cups in a toast, their eyes gleaming with lust and anticipation. “I want all of you to strip for us,” the man commands.

Some of the girls start to remove their clothes, their hands shaking as they reveal their naked bodies to the crowd. I refuse, my hands balled into fists at my sides.

“Do it willingly or regret it,” the man says, his voice laced with threat.

Still, I refuse, my jaw set in determination. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me debase myself.

“Very well then,” the man says, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

The man who brought me down here comes behind me. He tears my dress from my body, the fabric ripping easily under his strong hands. I immediately reach up to cover myself, but he yanks my hands down, exposing my naked body to the leering crowd.

I swing at him, my fists connecting with his chest and face. But it’s no use. He’s too strong, and he easily overpowers me. He drags me to the man in charge and places me over his lap.

I'm too ashamed and embarrassed. My hips are grabbed, and a mumbled cry is forced from my full mouth as I’m rolled over onto his lap, and my ass is shoved into the air.

The man ties my wrists into place, and I can feel a hand holding me down as I squirm and struggle. He begins to spank me with his hand, the blows falling one after the other. At fifteen, he stops and feels between my legs, his fingers probing my most intimate place.

“She’s wet,” he says, a note of amusement in his voice. “Looks like the little whore is enjoying this.”

He continues spanking me, the blows falling harder and faster. By twenty, my ass is red and stinging, and I’m sobbing into the man’s lap. But still, I can feel the shameful wetness between my thighs, my body betraying my mind.

“We will now divide into rooms based on your interests,” the man says, his voice ringing out over the crowd. “This one decided to put up a fight and struggle, so she’ll be in the special room for any of you to punish and enjoy.”

The man in the golden mask lifts me up and drags me towards an empty room. “Get on the table face up,” he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

I obey, my heart pounding in my chest as I lie down, my body trembling with fear and anticipation. He grabs my wrists and ankles, securing them to the table posts beneath me. He places a spreader bar between my legs, forcing them apart. I can feel the cool air against my exposed pussy, my arousal betraying my fear. He slides something into my mouth, a gag of some sort, muffling my cries.

I hear the sound of footsteps, the clinking of glasses, and the low murmur of voices. Several males take a seat to watch the show, and I can hear the wet sounds of hookers riding them up and down on their laps.

A few come to observe me at the table. I can feel hands roaming my body, caressing my breasts, my thighs, my pussy. I squirm beneath their touch, my body betraying me as I grow wetter with each passing moment.

A man lowers himself between my legs. Gods, I try to control it. I don’t want him to see my pleasure. I don’t want him to hear me moan. But it’s no use. His tongue continues, licking and sucking at my clit. I feel his fingers spread my sex apart as he licks me in circular motions. I can feel hands on my pussy, fingers thrusting inside me as I am brought to the edge. His tongue continues as he sucks and licks. His breath and mouth hot and wet.

I shift my hips and try to move. But I cannot escape his tongue.

I can’t take it anymore. No…no…no, I beg myself. But my hips buck in response. My body betrays my mind as he continues with his tongue.

A few minutes in, and I scream. My body revolts as it shivers. I moan, my body trembling as I reach the peak, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave.

They know the moment I come because my body convulses then relaxes for just a second before the man starts sucking at my juices.

“Fuck, she’s dripping,” a voice murmurs.

“Sluts deserve to be punished,” another voice says.

“You got the whore off. You get to punish her,” a voice says.

Hands are on me and I’m moved to the spanking bench in the center of the room. My head is down, my arms tied to the leather arms. My body is moved until my ass is up in the air, presenting itself for all to see. My legs are spread open, making my vagina exposed.

I am a plaything, a toy for their amusement. Before I try to fight their is a vibrator inserted between my legs. It's placed on high

A body steps behind me. I feel the crack of leather on my butt. Then another. “Thirty spanks for being a good little whore.”

The blows rain down on my ass, each one stinging and burning. I can feel my pussy growing wetter with each spank, my body betraying my mind once again.

By the time the spanking is over, I’m sobbing and shaking, my ass red and throbbing. But still, I can feel the shameful wetness between my thighs, my body craving more punishment.

The man in the golden mask steps forward, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Sidney,” he says, his voice soft and menacing. “But don’t worry, we have plenty more in store for you tomorrow at the auction.”

The man who spanked me goes to sit down. Another gets up. He decides he wants to use his hand. Between hits he tries to stimulate my clit. My hips gently rock back and forth as the gentleman plays with my pussy. His thumb makes small circles on my swollen clit. Two fingers slowly go in and out.

He turns to the crowd, his voice booming out over the room. “Remember, gentlemen, this is just a taste of what’s to come. Tomorrow, you’ll have the chance to bid on your very own plaything. And trust me, these girls are worth every penny.”

The crowd cheers and raises their glasses in a toast, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. I’m left trembling on the spanking bench, my body aching and my mind reeling. What have I gotten myself into? And what horrors await me at the auction tomorrow?

Only time will tell. But one thing is for sure – I’ll never be the same again.