Indentured (3 page)

I jumped each time
a drop of wax hit me and nearly strangled myself on the ring around my neck. And there was no way on earth I could stop myself from screaming with each bit of it, especially the closer the wax moved to my incredibly sensitive nipples. Still the wax kept coming, dribbling and dripping down onto my aching breasts, onto both of them at the same time, over and over and over again until they had to be practically coated with the stuff and it was streaming down my abdomen to harden in lines over my body.

“The
nipples now, boys. Stop toying with her,” the announcer said.

I cringed, wincing before it hit, dreading the pain I knew was coming.

The heat singed both nipples at the same time and continued to come down in a steady stream, coating my areolas. I screamed into my gag the entire time, my body convulsing so that my ass slid off the chair and all my weight was tugging against the metal ring holding my neck in place.

It seemed to go on forever, never letting up, never easing. I could barely breathe, and that was when the most massive, powerful, all-consuming orgasm of my life struck me, washing in waves that forced my
eyes to roll back into my head.

Then it all went black.

The next thing I knew, I was hanging by my wrists from something overhead. My ankles were bound to some sort of steel bar that kept them spread wide beneath me, and my toes just barely touched the floor…but I couldn’t move my legs at all, because the bar was locked into place. I still had the gag in my mouth, the spotlights were still blinding me, but the ropes were all gone, as were the dildos.

But an insane buzzing on my clit was pushing me toward another orgasm. I blinked and looked down, squinting to see if I could figure out what was going on. After a minute, I made out a masked man kneeling in front of me, holding
a wand with a vibrating knob on the end right against my clit. My breasts and torso were still covered in wax—red wax that looked like blood—and I could only breathe if I pulled myself up by the wrists. If I just hung there, it was like my chest collapsed against my lungs and I couldn’t draw air in.

I moaned, because I was getting closer and closer to exploding in climax again. That must have alerted him to the fact that I was coherent again. He pulled the wand away from my clit and backed away. I lost him in the sea of lights.

My orgasm started to peter off, slipping away with a lack of stimulation. I just hung there, waiting for what was next, trying to breathe. Finally, I heard him stepping closer to me again. Or someone. I had no way of knowing if it was the same masked man or someone else because of those stupid spotlights.

The stinging falls of a flogger slapped hard over my breasts with no warning. I screamed again, jerking against my bonds, as a few bits of the wax broke off and fell to the floor beneath me. The next time, I heard the whoosh of the flogger swinging through the air before it struck. It landed directly over my right nipple, the falls spreading out over my entire aching breast. He swung again, striking the left breast. Again and again, stinging, screaming, aching blows landed upon my breasts. Each blow built the fire in my pussy up again, drawing me closer and closer to that orgasm I’d almost reached before.

When finally the wax was all gone, he continued to swing at my red, swollen, heavy breasts for several minutes. But then, without any indication that he was going to change his trajectory, the falls slashed between my thighs, landing against my sex and striking my overly sensitive clit. I think I screamed. I can’t be sure, because yet again my eyes rolled back into my head and I was out.

“We’ll start the bidding for Slave 4653 at fifty thousand, and go up in twenty-five thousand dollar increments.”

I was still foggy from that last orgasm, but I was starting to gain my bearings. The cold metal chair was beneath me again, with the ring around my neck. My legs were drawn apart and back, with my ankles shackled in place. My wrists, likewise, were pulled behind the chair and attached to something, making it impossible to move. With the blinding lights still beaming down on me, I knew that must mean my sex was gaping wide and on display for those looking at me.

“Do I have fifty thousand?”

A murmur. Shuffling feet.

“Fifty to the gentleman in front. Seventy-five?”

Cold air blew across my feverish body, leaving me shivering.

“Seventy-five to the left. A hundred thousand to the gentleman in blue. Do I have one twenty-five?”

I felt something between my thighs, something warm and hard, like a man. Then the buzzing. Good God, the buzzing. The wand was pressing against my clit again, and I jerked against my bonds. I was so damn sensitive that it hurt like crazy, but that didn’t stop another orgasm from building.

“One twenty-five in the front. One fifty in the blue. One seventy-five in the front.”

I moaned, and only then did I realize I wasn’t gagged. My sounds echoed in the cavernous room.

“Two hundred thousand to the gentleman to the left. Do I have two twenty-five?”

The angle of the magic wand changed, and I screamed, unable to stop the newest orgasm from crashing over me.

“One million dollars,” a deep, emotionless voice called out from the audience.

“A million dollars,” the announcer replied, cool as a cucumber. “Will anyone top that?”

My screams kept coming, as my climax seemed to give birth to a new climax. My legs shook and I tried desperately to close them, to force the wand away, but I couldn’t do anything.

“Going once. Going twice. Sold to the gentleman in the back for one million dollars.”

I was panting, and my ass had slipped off the edge of the chair again making it next to impossible to breathe, and still the wand kept buzzing on my clit. I screamed until my throat was raw, and still I kept screaming because the orgasm was seemingly never-ending.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. We will inform you of the next slave auction as information comes available. Will the winning bidder please come forward to finalize the necessary paperwork and to claim your slave?”

The spotlights were shut off, and voices and footsteps once again filled the room around me. Surely now, my tormentor would lay off the vibrator. But he didn’t. I tried to look down and see who it was, but I couldn’t move my head
because of the ring on my neck.

My screa
ms turned to panicked whimpers.

A man moved into my line of vision, and I thought maybe he was the winning bidder. Maybe he would come to force this man to remove the wand from my clit. But he also moved out of my line of sight, and then I felt strong hands lifting my hips, forcing me harder against the wand
, grinding me up against it while it vibrated me into oblivion. Then another man came close, but he bent down behind my chair and reached both hands out to toy with my incredibly sore and swollen breasts. He pinched and slapped them, repeatedly twisting the nipples so hard I thought he would tear them off.

And still, I kept coming. My throat was so raw I thought I might have done permanent damage to my vocal chords. It sounded husky and gravelly, like a chain-smoker. Every inch of my body was screaming out in pain, twisted in knots of unending sexual fervor.

Finally, I heard the voice again—the man who’d bought me. “That’ll do, boys.”

The hands left me. The wand stopped buzzing. I panted, trying to remember how to breathe like a human and wishing I could curl up in a ball.

He did not release me. He moved behind my chair and I felt a bottle at my lips. “Drink. You may not become dehydrated.”

I opened my mouth and let the cool liquid fall into it, coating my parched tongue and sliding down my insanely sore throat. After a few small swallows, he pulled the bottle away so I could breathe, then repeated the process.
I stared up, trying to see what he looked like. Big. Broad. Tall. Dark hair and cold eyes. That was all I could make out in the state I was in and being pretty much upside down. Before long, I’d finished the entire bottle of water.

I heard it rattle against the wooden floor moments before I heard his zipper sliding downward.

The slick, bulbous head of his cock replaced the bottle at my lips. “You’ll spend the next five years repaying your debt to me. Start now by swallowing my cock.”

That was all the warning I got before he shoved it all the way down my throat in a single thrust. I choked, but he held his hands over my ears, preventing me from moving even the tiniest bit. He was bigger around than the previous man had been, with thick veins bulging against my tongue and the walls of my throat. And he was longer, forcing my throat to accept him and expand until it was pressing up against the metal ring holding me in place.

My eyes watered when he pulled out. With the angle the chair was forcing me into, there were no barriers preventing him from sending every bit of his length and girth into me as deep as he wanted to go. I’d barely refilled my lungs when he pressed back inside, then took up a fast paced fucking motion, slamming his hips into my head so hard I feared he might break my nose.

I was never able to take a full breath before his cock was once again blocking my airway. My lungs burned, and I felt panicky, struggling against my bonds. My movements merely caused the chair to slip free from its position, sliding a few inches forward. He followed, never slowing his pace.
The chair moved across the floor with each of his forceful blows, until something sharp, the corner of something wooden and solid, pressed between my pussy lips and ground hard against my clit.

I screamed over h
is cock with a new orgasm. He let out a shout as his semen shot down my throat in steady bursts, forcing me to either swallow or drown in it.

Finally, he pulled out of my mouth with a pop, and I heard his zipper.
I gasped for air and worked my jaw, thankful that at least for a moment or two I might be left alone.

“Prepare her in this. I’ll be waiting in the car.”
The heels of his expensive shoes clicked across the hardwood floor moving away from me.

He’d only been gone for a minute or so when another man
moved behind my chair, leaning over me. With quick hands, he freed my neck, wrists, and ankles, and then pulled me unsteadily to my feet. It had been so long since I’d been able to use my legs to support myself that my muscles seemed to have forgotten how. While I wobbled, holding onto his shoulders for support, he lifted my legs one at a time so I could step into something.

Panties? My brain struggled to comprehend what was happening even as he pulled them up my legs. When he had it in place, though, I knew this was no ordinary pair of panties. They were crafted out of some thin, lightweight metal, sculpted perfectly to cup all of my curves
without actually pressing against them completely. He tightened something at the back, then settled a lock into place. There were openings along the sides between a band at my waist and more around my thighs. But it fit so perfectly against me that nothing would get close to my pussy, my ass…or my clit.

It was like a chastity belt. Good lord.

I hadn’t come close to adjusting to the sensation of wearing metal panties when he started putting something else on my top. A metal bra, made out of the same material, that cupped my tits but left just a breath of air between the metal and my nipples. He fitted the straps over my shoulders and tightened a band around my back, then I heard another lock click into place.

Again, there was no way anything was getting inside to touch my nipples.

He slipped some slinky black dress over my head, tugged it into place so it almost covered my ass, and then handed me a pair of black stilettos. I slid my feet into them and then tried to adjust the dress. When I tugged it down, though, my metal-covered tits were clearly visible. I readjusted it, trying to find some sort of happy medium, but no matter how it hung it was either too short at the bottom or too low-cut at the top.

But then again, unless we were going to be somewhere in public, it wouldn’t exactly matter. Most likely, whoever this guy was who had just spent a million dollars so he could fuck me for five years wanted
nothing more than to take me home and fuck me.

But if that was the case…why the chastity belt and bra?

When I finally stopped fiddling with the fabric, the man I’d been left with took me by the arm and tugged me off the stage I’d been on, forcing me to nearly run in my stilettos in order to keep pace. He led me through a series of hallways, winding through what seemed to be a maze.

When we finally reached a large black exit door, it opened to the night air and a nearly pitch-black sky. The moon was hidden behind the side of the unmarked building we’d been in, but a few stars were peeking out from behind clouds. A single car was parked beside the building with the engine running and the parking lights on, situated in such a way I couldn’t see the license plate. It was black, sleek, and the windows were tinted so I couldn’t make out anything inside.