Sold at the Auction

By: Cassandra Dee



Trembling like a leaf, I stood before him, unsure what to do next. Suddenly it was as if the world had narrowed to just me and him, there was no creepy female voice, no handlers on either side of me. It was just me, taking it off for the gorgeous man inside and I grew warm and moist once more, my body blooming under his scorching gaze, opening like a petal to the sun.

But it was my imagination. Of course the handlers were still there, of course this auction was being monitored by dozens of people, this was no amateur event thrown together on a whim. The woman’s voice came on once more.

“And now we will be viewing Article Twenty-One’s virginity. Handlers, please remove the remainder of the girl’s clothing.”

The two black-clad men stepped forward once more but I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t stand to have these criminals touch me, didn’t want to feel their dirty paws on my body. So I did the only thing left. Slowly, I slid my panties down my hips, undulating to the left and then to the right, pulling the flimsy piece of lace down, down, down until my pussy was revealed, my beautiful slit glistening and moist under the harsh spotlight, dragging the material over my thighs until I was able to kick them off. And then I stood once more, chin lifted, determined not to show my fear. Because I was beautiful, wearing nothing but the golden heels, huge breasts swaying, hips sensuous, all leading to the vee between my legs, the sweet snapshot of pink that beckoned to the bidders.

And I shot a glance at the man once more. A sliver of light still penetrated his booth, and I could make out the way his blue eyes ate everything up, how he was devouring every inch of creamy skin, dark streaks across his cheekbones, face tight. And a tingle coursed through me, my pussy moistening again, a small gush between my thighs. If I focused on him, blocking out all else, I could pretend that I was here with him alone, that it was just the two of us, alone in our world.

And keeping that in mind, I twirled slowly, doing a three sixty, giving a generous eyeful of my assets, raising my hands to run them through my brunette curls, opening my mouth slightly as if in lust. And it worked. The little parade made me feel better, the man’s look becoming sharper in the booth, more calculating, taking in everything. With a slow gesture, he made a circular motion with his hand, indicating what he wanted. Helpless before him, I twirled once more, turning until my back was to him and bent over, spreading my legs. Oh god, oh god. Was I really doing this? He wanted a look at my cunt and I was giving it to him, my moist channel on display, my labia pulsing, beating with the dirtiness of it all.

And the announcer’s voice came on once again.

“As promised, we will be inspecting the virgin’s hymen. Article Twenty-One, hold yourself open, please.” Again, I was astounded by her tone of voice. She could have been saying, “Can I offer you a napkin?” her voice was so mild despite the illicit words, despite the fact she was literally telling another woman to part her pussy for a dozen men to see.

But what choice did I have? If I refused, it would just be back to the handlers, they’d probably part my cheeks like I was a cow to be inseminated and the whole scenario made me cringe, heart curdling. So I did as commanded. Stroking my hands up and down my calves, I caressed them sensuously, making sure the man’s eyes were locked on my body. Then I ran my palms up over my thick thighs, squeezing them, the luscious ham hocks heavy and firm, before running each of my small hands up to my ass, caressing the pale peachy orbs, even lifting my hips and bumping up and down a bit so that my cheeks jiggled and wiggled entrancingly.

But the main course was coming. With a butt cheek in each hand, I slowly pulled them apart, my steaming slit coming into view, the beautiful pinkness that belonged to me alone. And oh fuck, while I was doing it, I went all the way. I leaned over more, making sure my ass was high in the air, and showed them my taboo hole then. Oh yeah, my gorgeous brown pucker winked and flashed under the spotlight, flirting with the buyers, a perfect counterpoint to the pink wetness that dripped below, my swollen labia engorged and pulsing with desire.

But the men couldn’t see what the evidence of my virginity just yet, so the female voice came on again.

“Article Twenty-One, please hold your labia open. Cameras,” she directed. “Prepare to zoom.”

And I gasped, head still between my knees. Oh my god, they wanted to look up into my channel, deep into the hot pink for a glimpse of my hymen? To see that part of me that was still intact, where no man had touched? And they were going to zoom in, let everyone see up close and personal? Oh my god, oh my god.

But the naughtiness titillated me because it was so dirty and sensuous at once. I’d played with myself a few times, always stopping when I reached the barrier, the spongy tissue that proved I was untouched, untaken. And so taking a deep breath, I let go of my orbs and let my small hands creep between my thighs, slowly caressing my plush pussy lips, letting them watch as I massaged my cunt. Mmm, it felt good, my nub was tingling, my clit so big and stiff that I was sure they could see it, all two inches poking out, waving in the air.

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