All parts of the story can be found in the end
An overwhelming sense of dread filled the hearts of slaves Two and Three as they waited behind the curtain on the far side of the stage. They had been forced into an awful predicament. They had both been stripped and frog tied, a variant of the classic hog tie, well worth describing: The victim’s ankles are tied together in such a way as to spread her knees apart. Her wrists and elbows are tied together behind her back. A final tie draws the wrists and ankles together.
Both girls had been tied this way. Each had also been fitted with a penis/prod gag. After that, both girls had been squeezed together, belly to belly, in a tight leather harness which forced them into the classic sixty nine position. Each penis had been forced into the other’s cunt. Last, but not least, the leather harness was fixed to a single chain which hung from the ceiling above. Fastened and suspended the way they were, Slave Two and Slave Three had no choice but to fuck each other with their penis gags.
They were all too aware of their bondage. They knew they would soon be shamelessly displayed before a wild and raucous crowd of unmitigated perverts who wanted nothing more than to witness and cheer for their total humiliation. Tied and trussed like a pair of turkeys, they were terribly uncomfortable. Equally as distressing was that they had been denied almost all freedom of movement, all except to fuck each other with their penis gags.
But the dread that they felt had almost nothing to do with any of that. The stage had grown strangely silent except for the emcee’s voice. They could not make out all of the words but the tenor and rhythm had changed. He was conducting an auction. An auction! No doubt about it. Slave One would soon be sold. Who were these people anyway? Didn’t they have any sense of humanity. And what about that innocent frightened girl? She might as well have a cow at the cattle yards.
This was the source of the all impending dread that they felt. It made them both shiver as they waited there in the semi darkness. The tattered velvet curtain was their only clothing, their only protection from the scene to come. And it would soon be opened. Slaves Two and Three had no choice but to seek shelter inside each other. They cried and keened quietly, their heads nuzzled each others thighs as they pressed their penis gags hard into the others cunt.
“Sold!” Their worst fears now confirmed, the curtain opened in a trice. The white hot spot light found them and bathed them in a nearly shadowless light. A crescendo of loud rock music came on with the shock of a starting pistol shot. Both girls gasped, almost as if they were surprised by their sudden and swiftly staged tableau.
The audience fell silent for a few moments. It was a sort of a hush, an homage to tortured beauty. And then they cheered. Many of them stood up as they did. Their heads craned forward to get a better look at all of that lovely girl flesh, tenderly intertwined, debasing and debauching with reckless abandon.
“And now, everyone, we are proud to present to you the winsome slaves Two and Three. You may note that they look almost the same: same size, same body, same hair. They look so much alike they might as well be sisters, maybe even twins. Just think: two slave girls, their hearts beating almost as one, eager to serve, eager to please. The mathematics of sex increase exponentially!”
“And when you get tired, you can always make them fuck themselves for you. Your own private show for you, or your friends any time, any where,” Mistress Sheba broke in over the top of his lines.
Whip in hand she gave the girls a slow spin as the music faded up once again. This time the song was “Muskrat love.”
And they whirl and they twirl and they tango
Singin’ and jinglin’ a jangle
Float like the heavens above
Looks like Muskrat Love
Muzzle to muzzle
Now anything goes as they wriggle
Sue starts to giggle
And they whirled and they twirled and they tango
Singin’ and jinglin’ a jangle
Floatin’ like the heavens above
Looks like muskrat love
The crowd fell silent once again, this time enthralled by the sight of slowly rotating fertile females making love to each other. At last someone said, “awe,” and everyone laughed.
The sound suddenly changed to Bolero. Sheba swung the whip at the helpless pair, spurring them into action as they began to earnestly fuck each other in time to the music.
The two topless dancers began to move about the stage. Each mimed out an imaginary penis gag and then each wrapped the other in their arms in a very stylized version of lesbians in heat.
“Aren’t they the cutest couple? You see sometimes even slaves can fall in love. And we like to encourage it, even honor it. Take, for example, Slave Two on top here. She wanted nothing to do with the same sex when we first brought her in. But we soon fixed that. We found her a lover and she quickly adapted. And then we acquired Slave Three. She didn’t like women either.”
“Wap,” Sheba cracked the whip on Slave Two. Then she swung it again, this time upwards into the back of Slave Three. Neither screamed nor even gasped. They continued to make love, almost as if they were oblivious.
“Wap! Wap,” went the whip again also in time to the music.
“Slave Three cried all of the time. We did everything we could. We treated her like a queen. We even gave her to the guards to play with, but she was young and virtually inconsolable. So, one night we tied her into the arms of the very willing Slave Two.”
“Wap! Wap,” went the whip.
“And then, wouldn’t you know it? They took comfort in each other. And they have been lovers ever since. Bolero was my idea. The two of them cum together every time as the music comes to an end, just like clockwork.”
Sheba continued to whip their slowly rotating bodies at a steady beat while the music played. Just then another scream filled the room. It was an anguished cry. Slave One had remained in subspace all of this time and lost all control of herself in the throes of yet another orgasm. No one said a word. No one even cared. They felt the music swell and they wanted to see Slaves Two and Three.
Sure enough, their orgasms came at the same time. They began to vibrate and then they froze, locked together face to crotch. Their bodies clenched and their thighs closed tightly on each others heads. Satisfied at last, they each cooed and swooned. The music stopped. The song was over.
One could have heard a pin drop in that crowded little theater. Even the two topless dancers froze in place.
“Slaves Two and Three, ladies and gentlemen. Slave love hanging and spinning from above,” said the emcee.
“We will auction these lovely young ladies together as a set,” Sheba said. “We just hate to break these little lovebirds up.”
Bolero began to play again. This time the sound had been faded down while Slaves Two and Three began all over again.
“We begin the bidding at fifty k everyone. Fifty, fifty, fifty…Do I hear fifty?”
The entire story :
Last Updated on 3 years by pseudonymous