Chapter 4 - auction

"Oh good, Hannah, you're awake!" Sophie calls out, watching the young girl regain consciousness as she stretches out on the small couch. Hannah struggles briefly, her body panicked by the realization that she is still naked and her hands are cuffed behind her back. "Sweetie relax! I've done everything I can for you - your body took to the correction really well, and you're going to be fine. Now don't worry, you're going to be called for auction in just a moment. I was going to wake you earlier, but really, you'd only have more time to worry!"

"But! No - I-please - can't you do something?" Hannah's voice is filled with panic at the thought, and she stands, still covering her breasts and vulva, pleading with Sophie.

"I've done everything I can, the law requires that you be sold to auction, now, I suggest that you're polite and contrite when you get to the auction room, don't fight, don't be rude, accept what your body's telling you. Most of all, when they ask whether you're offered for sale willingly, say 'yes'. That way you have a chance of being sold for a concubine rather than just a breeding slave or a brothel slut."

"A w-what?" Hannah stammers, sure that she must have misheard.

"A brothel or a breeding slave Hannah - I don't think you want to end up there if you can help it! Some girls take to it, but knowing you a little I don't think you will! Now - come along, stand up - its time to go. Remember what I told you, ok?" Hannah nods, and nervously lets Sophie guide her to the doorway and out into the corridor. As they approach the next door Sophie whispers to Hannah to remember what she has told her, and as the door opens Sophie is led into what feels like a small lecture theatre. 7-8 men are seated in a loose semi-circle around a low stage. A man in a dark suit approaches her, taking Hannah from Sophie, dismissing the girl, and guiding her to a point on the stage marked with tape. Reaching behind her she feels a 'click', and her cuffs are attached to a chain suspended to the ceiling. The position is not uncomfortable, but Hannah is unable to sit, and her breasts are thrust forward by the restraint.

"Gentlemen." The man begins. "Hannah Gosling is 24 years old, single, childless, and has recently undergone corrective therapy. Hannah - are you offered for sale willingly?" Hannah looks at the man, startled and terrified, managing to nod weakly. "Well, Hannah informs me that she is offered for sale willingly! Gentlemen, what am I bid for young Hannah for the period of three successive pregnancies?" A murmur goes through the small group of men as they observe her dispassionately. A thought goes through her head that this is finally it, that she is going to be sold, raped and impregnated. She is paralyzed by fear, barely able to look around the room at the men preparing to trade her and treat her like a piece of meat. Her terror is broken by one of the men standing and approaching her. As he speaks, she recognizes him. It is Tom, one of her former suitors, and a particularly persistent one. She tries to step back as he approaches, remembering vividly how she had to physically resist him one night to stop him from undressing her after a date.

"Hello Hannah." He says as he stands next to the bound and naked girl. "I remember the last time we parted you were not very keen to service my sexual needs. I take it that has changed since you're here to be auctioned willingly?" Tom smiles, reaching forward and cupping Hannah's shaved vulva with his hand, causing her to grimace and jump, trying fruitlessly to escape his casual violation. She wriggles like a caught fish on a line, unable to escape him as he gently massages her pussy.

"Stop, please, Tom, stop, I, I'm sorry, please, please don't do this, I, we can, we can go on a date, I can try to, I mean, let's see, I could..." Tom interrupts her, tweaking one of her nipples painfully as she struggles to avoid his touch.

"Oh no Hannah" he laughs, "The time for that game is over. Either you willingly accept me as your absolute master, or I buy you anyway, use you until you're pregnant, then sell you to one of the less reputable breeding brothels." There is a ripple of laughter from the room as Tom's words begin to sink in, and Hannah wrestles both physically and emotionally with her predicament.

Realizing that she has no choice, she lowers her eyes, and, shamefaced, she manages "Yes, Master. I'm yours". As she does, she is shocked to feel a delicate tingling in her pussy, a rising sense of arousal from Tom's probing fingers. She wants to pull away, but she feels her hips thrust toward his hand as her body wriggles with need. Her heat takes her by surprise with its rapidity. Tom laughs, teasing her inflamed pussy lips for a few moments with his fingers, then pulling back, leaving her twisting comically on the chain, stumbling as she regains her balance.

Tom turns to the auctioneer - "I'll offer you 10,000." Looking around the room for another offer, and not seeing one, the auctioneer accepts, shaking Tom by the hand, nodding as Tom orders "Have her delivered to the farm."

Hannah shakes her head in confusion. "Wait - please - Tom, I thought..."

Tom laughs, "I know what you thought Hannah, but I'm really not interested in you except for the satisfaction of seeing a stuck-up holier-than-though bookworm of a cock-tease turned into a hormone crazed farm animal. You think your precious PhD is more important than being a helpless little ***toy? Take her away."

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Hannah doesn't remember her journey when she wakes, but her attention is held by her predicament. She is naked, bent over at the waist, her breasts hanging free, her neck and arms held forward in a set of wooden stocks, and her ankles cuffed and spread wide. She tries to scream, but manages only a low grunt as she realizes her mouth is crammed with a tight plug of some kind that forces her jaws apart and fills the cavity. She can vaguely see other stalls, but her field of view is restricted by her stocks. In front of her, to her horror, is another woman, facing her, in a mirror image of her own stocks. She looks at the woman, also gagged with a tube leading upwards from the mouthpiece, and shudders, struggling to break free as she takes in the woman's appearance.

The first thing she notices are the girl's eyes - looking at her with a vacant stare as her mouth makes a chewing motion on the tube. Her face is wide and plump, the folds of her chin pushing forward through the holes in her wooden stocks. As Hannah looks down she is shocked by the profile of the woman's torso and abdomen, framed as it is by her thick thighs. She's pregnant, clearly in her third trimester, and her breasts - no, thinks Hannah, her fevered mind almost laughing hysterically in fear, those can only be 'udders' - hang low and heavy, dark red stretch marks radiating from her ribs down the pendulous forms. Though her crotch is obscured by her enormous belly, Hannah can see that the woman's hips are supported by some form of stool-like structure, and that she is making languid ***ing motions with her pelvis, vaguely in time with her chewing motions.

Hannah is transfixed, the horror of not wanting to see, but not being able to look away. She doesn't know how long she watches the woman, unsettled by the feeling that she is being observed from behind those vacant eyes, before her own sensations bring her back to the present. She realizes that her own stall lacks a resting place for her hips, but that her ankles bonds hold her legs firmly in place, allowing her knees to flex only slightly. As she wriggles, exploring her bonds, searching for weaknesses or ways to find a more comfortable position her hips move, her buttocks swaying gently from side to side.

Suddenly her movement stops, her heart skipping a beat as she feels a pair of hands grab her firmly by the hips. "Don't stop, Hannah, I was enjoying that little display!" Chuckles Tom, still firmly holding the bony protrusions of her ilium. "Are you comfortable? I thought you wouldn't mind sharing a stall with Lucy here, she's been with us for 9 years now, on her 7th pregnancy. Of course, most of that time she's been on drugs that lower her conscious awareness to a dull haze of pleasure from eating and rubbing her crotch!"

Hannah grunts in protest, bucking sharply to try to escape Tom's grasp, but she has nowhere to go, and as she pulls her hips forward he steps closer and she feels his naked body pressing against her backside, his cock hard standing eagerly between her fleshy buttocks. "Don't worry Hannah, I'm not going to drug you yet, I want you to be fully aware of what's happening to you. Now, you must be uncomfortable not having anywhere to rest your hips, aren't you? Are your legs tired? Grunt once for me if you are Hannah."

Hannah struggles helplessly, her wrists and neck held tightly in the stocks, her ankles firmly gripped by the leg irons, her mind tries desperately to block out the awful realization that Tom has complete control over her. As if to demonstrate, he reaches around and grabs her nipple, cruelly twisting it in his fingers, making her jump and yelp involuntarily into her gag. "OK Hannah, that's fine, you let me know when you're ready to cooperate." He slides his hand slowly down, over her gently rounded abdomen, letting it rest on her vulva, pushing one finger gently inside her then sliding it upward, separating her pussy lips as his thick cock pushes against her vaginal opening. Hannah tries to wriggle away, but her hips are held in place. She cries out, grunting into her gag as she feels the sudden pain of Tom's cock penetrating her from behind. She feels him come to a rest, his member completely inside her, and feels herself quivering with pain and humiliation at her casual violation.