Once upon a slave auction

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This post is part two of a week long series entitled “Looking Back”. They are a few pages from our ‘photo albums’ that I wanted to write about as john and I celebrate 10 years of living in a kinky power exchange. We hope you enjoy, and as always, thanks so much for reading and for sharing your comments with us.

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One of my favorite memories that my pup and I share was the time that I put him up for sale at a slave auction.

We had heard about this event, and it intrigued us both, deeply. My pup indicated that he wanted to participate, which delighted me. We were still in the earlier years of taking our play on the road and including other people and other places, so those things alone had us a bit elevated. From what we gathered, it was a Romanesque type event, with Caesar himself presiding over the bidding.

What I recall most was my pup’s beautiful nervousness. I had brought everything I needed to dress him and prep him for his sale. I carefully draped him in clean, cream colored muslin. His toga was secured with gold roping. I was feeling very proud of my slave and wanted him to catch the attention of several of the buyers. I loved so much the way he looked. His flawless, tan skin glowed against his robes, his muscles ripping beneath his oiled sheath. As I fastened a rope around his neck and started leading him down the path towards the auction house, I could feel his hesitation as I pulled upon his leash.

We could see the lighted pavilion through the darkness, lit up with festive lights and many tiki torches. It was like an oasis of beauty against a wooded backdrop during a hot summer night. As we approached, we could see a line of slaves gathering outside of the structure. They were arranged in an orderly row, their ankles shackled to one another, prohibiting them from running away. The guards that stood watch are one of the other things I remember most….intimidating, fierce, enormous….whips and extra rope dangling close to their hips, in case they needed either.

I brought my pup to his place in the line, and with the assistance of a guard, began to shackle him to the slave before him. I could hear my property’s meek whimpering, meant for my ears alone, and could see the wide-eyed look upon his face. I felt compassion and delight in him in those moments before I left him standing there, alone.  It was really happening…..he really was about to be auctioned off for his services. This was no longer something that we were talking about but instead it was something we were doing.

For a last few moments, we stood together, looking into the open-air structure at all of the people gathered beneath it. It was spectacular. There is no other word for it. I don’t know that I can remember seeing such a sight as this one. It was magical. Sparkling. It was a movie set to me, the air crackling with the building energy. Everyone looked amazing. So many beautiful woman, donned in white, silky, sheer layers, their skin dusted in fine gold powder that shimmered beneath the light of the torches. The men looked just as amazing, they too dressed to impress. There were slaves lined up for every palate, and many perspective buyers walked the slave line, admiring, inspecting….and building a ravenous appetite.

I took my place among the other buyers. I was served a summer cocktail by a naked beauty, and stood watching with the others. A dashing man came to me, pressing into my hand a fistful of round, wooden tokens for me to do my own bidding, and soon, more were offered to me.

The bidding began, and one at a time, slaves were brought up flanked on either side by frightening looking guards, preventing any attempts at escape. The array of slaves was fascinating to me.

Some were sultry and sassy…..nearly dancing their way to the front of the stage where Caesar stood waiting. He read off a scroll their list of talents…cock sucking, foot worshiping, massage. He revealed their limits, and mentioned their owners.

Other slaves had to be dragged quite reluctantly to face the crowds by guards who were more than happy to wrestle them forward. Not a single slave was able to evade their grasp. One by one, slaves were presented. Many were stripped of their garments and stood naked as they were inspected. Some remained in robes. It had been determined by their Mistresses and Masters how they would be presented.  Slaves of all ages, orientations, shapes, colors were offered. The audience whooped and hollered for every single one of them.

My boy was placed somewhere in the middle of the procession.  I watched his chained ankles slowly shuffle their way closer to the front of the line. Often, I could see him when he could not see me, for I blended easily with all of those around me. I could see him searching for me, his face full of wonder and fear, his hard cock making statements of unquestionable pleasure.  I was happy to see him engaging with the other slaves, and as time when on, I could see his edges relaxing laughing as he mingled with his shackled peers.

They say that misery loves company, and this was certainly no exception.

But that laughing stopped when my boy was about 3rd in line to be brought forth. I slipped out of the crowd and went to see him one last time before he was marched to the front. His eyes pleased with me to release him, but his cock told another story entirely. When I cupped his face, and told him that I would not be releasing him, but instead he would be paraded to face Caesar and the hungry crowds, his cock throbbed as I squeezed it in my hand. My delight felt so complete in that moment… I felt so enormously lucky to be doing such a pleasurable thing with such lovely people.

It was that moment when you pause, and realize that fantasy and reality had tangled beneath the bed sheets, and you were bequeathed their successor.

I left my boy there. I could feel, but not see, him reaching for me as I disappeared back into the crowds from where I had come.

The two guards secured each of my pups’ arms, and a third unshackled him. They started to walk him to the ramp that lead to the front of the auction block. I could see my slaves’ composure wilting. I had instructed him to make me proud, and I could see him struggling with this. He began to resist and push against the guard, but he was no match for the three of them. His attempts to back away made people in the crowd lean forward; they were an audience that loved an overwhelming.

My pup was presented. He was inspected. His list of sexual and service oriented talents were read along side his limits and restrictions. My boy was being offered to anyone who wanted him… man, woman or group. I had placed no restrictions on that.  When the bidding concluded, it was a woman who came forward to claim him, and she lead him into the audience. I could see them talking, and soon after, he was released to me. It has been arranged that my pup would fulfill his slave duties for her the following day, as most slave owners did not wish to leave the confines of such a starry night too soon and retreat to their cabins.

After all, this was a hedonistic environment of sorts. Sex was everywhere, play was 24/7 constant, and no one was in a hurry to depart from it’s sexy folds.

I cannot and will not write about what happened the following day as my pup headed off to another cabin to fulfill his slave duties. That is not what this story is about. This story is about all that lead up to that moment. It is a story that reminds me that kinky people are wonderful people because we can and will make fantasies come true. It reminds me how exciting it can be to play with edges and to play with sexy fears. If D/s is a consensual power exchange… and it is… then to me, this beautiful night was the best in show.