Tying Up Loose Ends

Part 5

“This is bullshit!” Bunny exclaimed, pacing back and forth in her new getup. The guards and stylists had come and gone, once they’d finally reached our cells they dressed the women across from us. Then it was our group’s turn and what they had left behind was a group of women in a menagerie of scantily clad costumes.

Lacie looked like she had just stepped out of a cartoon, purple elbow length gloves paired with a sparkly figure-hugging strapless red dress and a neckline that plunged so low it threatened to spill her breasts out at any moment. Her hair had been styled into a long waterfall of shiny waves that cascaded over her shoulders and covered one side of her face. The dress had an incredibly long slit that went up to her hip, revealing her long smooth legs that ended in a pair of red sparkly stilettos that matched the dress perfectly.

Hana looked like she was in a cosmic battle of modesty versus immodesty as she was dressed in a costume that seemed to be a twisted parody of Sailor Venus's outfit from the anime Sailor Moon. The iconic top and short skirt were there, but instead of orange and white, she was decked out in cyan and white, which I had to admit did a better job complimenting her hair color.

The cyan colored stilettos were definitely higher than any characters in the anime wore and the skirt was significantly shorter, but the costume was unmistakable. Hana’s long hair which had been styled into two curled pigtails now each sported a large white bow with a long flowing ribbon. Above her breasts sat a golden brooch with a cyan gem at its center, the same color as her hair. She looked like a doll, a living, breathing, doll dressed for some perverted adult’s fantasy.

And finally there was Bunny, who had the wherewithal to wait until the guards had left before letting out a string of curses. Whether it was irony or just a twisted sense of humor on Lydia’s part, she had been dressed as a playboy bunny. The outfit was anything but a cheap knockoff; it was an actual, albeit very skimpy, Playboy bunny costume. Shiny black patent leather bunny ears sat atop her head, a fluffy large cotton tail perched at the base of her spine.

The costume itself was a scandalously tiny strapless leotard black in color, with black fishnet tights and a pair of black patent leather heels that had to be at least six inches tall. The iconic dress shirt cuffs, bow tie and collar sat atop her leather restraints. “This is just adding insult to injury,” she groused, trying to tug at the bow tie that kept slipping down to reveal the collar around her neck.

The leather restraints which sat over all of our costumes were a never ending reminder of our reality, but even that couldn’t completely dull the absurdity of the situation. We watched as Bunny continued to fuss with her bow tie, her frustration clear as she tried to readjust it. Despite the gravity of our situation, I couldn’t help it as a bubble of laughter grew in my chest.

“Aww come on Bunny, you’re rocking that look!” I couldn’t help but snicker, despite the heaviness in my heart. Her cheeks flushed as she threw me a glare.

Then to my utter shock Lacie began to giggle, the sound was small and strained but it was definitely laughter. And once she started it was like a dam had burst, because Hana and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. We all laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls of our cell. It was a strange, tense, hollow sound that seemed to bounce around the space. But it was also liberating in a way. It felt like a small rebellion, a way to take back some power in this twisted game we had been forced to play.

“I uh… I think you look pretty sexy, actually,” Lacie said, a real smile playing at the corner of her lips for the first time since she had been brought into the van. It was small, but it was genuine, a tiny spark of hope in the dark abyss of despair that was our current reality.

“Yeah, so what if the irony’s thicker than a brick wall?” Hana managed to say through her laughter, her eyes shimmering with something other than fear for the first time since we’d met.

“You’re one to talk about irony ‘uwu’ girl, you look like you stepped straight out of a hentai,” Bunny quipped, her voice laced with mirth despite the frustration she had been displaying a moment ago.

*CLANG CLANG CLANG*

“That’s enough,” a gruff voice called out from the corridor, cutting through our laughter like a knife. Just like that, the spell was broken. The guard who had apparently been watching us the whole time stepped forward and smacked his nightstick against the bars. “You’re not here to entertain each other,” he barked, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

With our moods thoroughly dampened by the guard’s harsh interruption, we fell into an uncomfortable silence. The jingling of my coin belt seemed to echo the heaviness in the room as I moved to sit back down on the mattress. The others followed suit, each lost in their own thoughts as we awaited our fate. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity until finally the sound of a door opening down the corridor brought us out of our daze.

Lydia swept into view, and I couldn’t help but stare. She had dressed herself in a black gown that clung to her figure like a second skin, with gold embroidery snaking along the fabric like opulent vines. Her shoulders were bare, the gown plunging into a deep 'V' that showcased her ample cleavage. The neckline was high, but the way it hugged her waist and flared out at the hips made her look like a queen from the pages of a dark fantasy novel. Her hair fell in loose curls over her shoulders, and she had adorned herself with a gold circlet that shimmered in the dim light.

All in all it looked like she had just stepped out of a medieval royal court, or perhaps more accurately, a darker version of a Game of Thrones set.

“Attention slaves!” Lydia’s voice echoed through the cells, pulling us out of our thoughts. The harsh fluorescent lights of the cell block did little to dim the opulence of her black and gold attire. She paused at the bars, her gaze sweeping over each of us with a predatory glint in her eyes as she walked up and down the aisle. “Your evening is about to begin,” she announced, her tone carrying a mix of excitement and authority.

“Now, normally,” Lydia began, her voice carrying a hint of excitement that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Each of you would be paired with a handler who would escort you around the grand hall, showcasing your…attributes to potential buyers before the actual auction at the end of the night.” She paused dramatically, her eyes glinting with a wicked gleam that made me shiver. “But tonight is special. Tonight is our Halloween gala and as such we are doing things differently.”

I looked back at the girls, the reality of what she’d said sinking in. Of course it wasn’t enough we were wearing extravagant yet slutty costumes, it wasn’t enough we were about to be paraded about a room full of depraved men and women, no, we had to be part of some twisted humiliation she no doubt had planned.

“So tonight,” Lydia clapped to emphasize her point, “during the gala there have been a number of party games set up, and each buyer has been given the opportunity to purchase a game token for the small sum of five thousand dollars each,” she announced, a sadistic smile playing on her lips as she held up a golden chip like one might find at a casino. My stomach churned at the thought of what kind of ‘games’ these wealthy monsters would play with us.

“Should one of you be lucky enough to be chosen,” she continued, her eyes gleaming as she held up a velvet pouch filled with shiny metal tokens, “the buyer will present this token to your handler, and you will be expected to participate in whatever game they’ve selected for you.”

With that Lydia stopped in the middle aisle and addressed everyone with one last announcement, “Now, all of that said, since we’ve had such an influx of… talent this year, we’ve had to make some adjustments to our usual format. Two of you will be paired with a single handler, and it’s imperative that you follow their lead at all times. Do as you’re told and maybe, just maybe, you’ll find a master or mistress who knows how to appreciate what you have to offer,” she said with a wink that made my skin crawl.

“Just remember, guards will be posted everywhere and any slave not on leash or obeying a token-holder’s wishes will be… disciplined,” she concluded, her voice dripping with menace.

With a final smirk at us, Lydia strode down to our cell, her heels clicking sharply on the stone floor. She stopped in front of Hana, the intensity of her gaze causing the smaller girl to stand up and approach her. "Now, as for you," she said, her voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. “You are a special case. A big-ticket item, if you will and as such, I have certain expectations for you tonight.”

“Mistress?”

“You will be performing,” she announced, her eyes narrowing as she studied Hana’s outfit, “as your cutesy online persona. You will act as demure and shy as you are known to be, and you will do so flawlessly. If you fail to meet these expectations, Hana, your price will drop significantly, and I can’t have that. So either play the part or I will personally ensure that you are sold during the untrainables auction next month and you can spend the rest of your life as a cum dumpster in some far off brothel in a third world country,” Lydia’s words were a knife in the gut, but she delivered them with the casualness of someone discussing the weather, “Do you understand me?”

Hana’s eyes were wide with fear, but she nodded jerkily. “Y-Yes Mistress,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

With that we watched as Lydia turned to leave, the sound of her heels disappearing down the corridor leaving us with nothing but dread. We were all dressed up, ready to be served like hors d’oeuvres to the wealthy perverts who frequented the resort. The thought of being touched and used by any of them filled me with a mix of anger and fear that coiled in my stomach.

Seeing the utter terror in Hana’s eyes, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness. I pushed myself up from the mattress, the bells on my coin belt chiming softly as I approached her. Hesitating for just a moment, I reached out and wrapped my arms around her in a comforting embrace.

To my surprise, Hana didn’t push me away; instead, she leaned into me, her body trembling as she returned the hug. The fabric of her outfit was cool against my bare skin, and for a moment, I felt the warmth of her breath against my neck as she buried her face into my shoulder. It was a strange sort of comfort, the kind you might find in a foxhole during a battle. We were in this hell together, and somehow, that made it slightly more bearable.

The sound of steel cell doors sliding opening one by one snapped us out of our shared moment of solace. Pairs of captives began to emerge, each dressed in their own degrading costumes, and were led away by their handlers. My heart raced as I watched them go, each step they took bringing them closer to their fate, and me closer to mine. Soon enough I watched as a pretty young brunette stopped in front of Bunny and Lacie’s cell.

“Alright you two, chins up and hands behind your backs,” she said with a smirk, her eyes lingering on them both before she stepped inside. She was dressed in a long maroon dress just like all the other handlers, but her demeanor was anything but welcoming. Her eyes were cold, calculating, and she held two leather leashes in her hand that she attached to their collars after locking their wrist cuffs together.

I watched as a guard stepped up and locked each of their wrist cuffs together behind their backs, then allowed the handler to lead them out. The sight of their bound wrists and the way the leashes tugged at their necks as they were led away tugged at my heart, a reminder that time was up. Once the twins across from us had been taken, it was just Hana and me left in the cell.

Finally, it was our turn and I was surprised when a mousy blonde and a guard stepped into our cell. She was petite and unassuming in her maroon dress, but unlike the confident almost predatory swagger that Lydia and the other handlers had, she looked more like a deer caught in headlights. The guard, a mountain of a man with a stern face and arms the size of tree trunks, unlocked the cell and gestured for Hana and I to turn around.

Doing as instructed, I felt the cold steel of a padlock link the rings of my cuffs together, Hana’s smaller frame shivered beside me as she endured the same treatment. The handler then stepped forward, her eyes meeting mine, and I noticed the slight tremble in her hands as she attached the ends of the leashes to our collars. It was a familiar sensation, the tug of the leather against my neck as we were led out of the cell.

We followed her through the maze of hallways, the clack of our heels and the jingle of my coin belt echoing off the stone walls. I could feel the guard’s presence behind us, his heavy breathing and the thud of his boots a constant reminder of our captivity. Eventually, we arrived at a grand hall, the sound of music and laughter spilling out like a toxic cloud.

Last to arrive, we were led out of the room by the handler, her grip on our leashes firm yet shaking slightly. The guard’s heavy footsteps faded behind us as the grandness of the hall swallowed the sounds of our approach. The vast space was a cacophony of Halloween opulence, with tapestries depicting scenes of macabre revelry hanging from the vaulted ceilings, the walls adorned with intricate carvings of mythical beasts, their eyes seemingly following our every move. The air was thick with the scent of money, lust, and the faint hint of fear.

The room was packed with the crème de la crème of society’s underbelly, all wearing posh animal masks that screamed of wealth and perversion. They mingled freely, sipping on flutes of champagne and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears as they surveyed the evening’s offerings. The masks were extravagant in design, some adorned with diamonds and feathers, others with gold filigree and precious stones, each one a silent declaration of their superiority over us.

The sheer difference between the captives dressed in our ludicrous costumes and the masked elite was obvious as we entered the grand hall. Open mouthed I couldn’t help but stare as the sea of wealth and depravity parted for us. The air was electric, charged with anticipation and hunger, it made my skin crawl…

And there, in the midst of the crowd, I spotted the slave whose body had been painted entirely in gold, her eyes wide with terror as two men in elaborate wolf masks took turns groping her. Her handler watched with a bored expression, as if watching a gold statue be groped was part of her evening routine.

To my left, a group of men in suits surrounded a young woman dressed as a lamb, her eyes darting around the room as she tried to pull away from their lecherous touches. They laughed cruelly at her fear, and my stomach lurched at the thought of what could happen to any of us tonight. The handler tugged on our leashes, guiding us through the throng of guests who took turns eyeing us with in appraisal. Each set of eyes that raked over us felt like a violation, a claim of ownership that didn’t yet belong to them.

As we approached the center of the room, the games came into view. There was a currently empty dunk tank, but instead of water, it held a viscous, shimmering liquid that glowed green. Nearby, a game of ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’ had been perverted to ‘Pin the Tail on the Slave’, but instead of tails and blindfolds, there was a line of butt plugs and a stockade.

Across from that booth I spied what looked like a large barrel one might expect to find apples bobbing around in, but as we drew closer I realized that instead of apples there were a number of male dildo like toys floating in murky water. The game was called ‘Bob for a Bonanza ‘ and it was exactly as it sounded. Most of the games were empty, with only a few ‘participants’ having already been volunteered to play.

My perusal of these twisted perversions on classic Halloween party games was interrupted as a pair of glamorously dressed women wearing fox masks approached us. “Ah, look Vicky, a genuine magical girl and her lovely sidekick!” one of them exclaimed, her voice laden with fake enthusiasm. Her companion giggled behind her mask, a sound that sent a chill down my spine.

“Tell us about these two,” the other fox-masked woman demanded, her tone dripping with entitlement. The handler looked between us and cleared her throat nervously.

“This is Hana,” she began, her voice quivering slightly, “and she’s a popular online sensation known for her submissive persona. She’s a virgin and untouched, a rare commodity for those who enjoy breaking in the fresh stock.” The words seemed to stick in her throat, but she forced them out with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “And this,” she tugged on my leash, “is Taylor, a true submissive who truly enjoys serving her master, or mistress.”

The words filled me with a mortification that burned in my cheeks, but not nearly as much as Hana who was a bright red at her virgin status being revealed. The fox-masked women stepped closer, their eyes raking over us with greed. “How delightful,” said the one who hadn’t spoken yet, her eyes lingering on my harem costume. “Taylor, you say? Tell us, slave, are you as eager to serve as your handler claims?”

I bit my tongue, my eyes cast downward. The last thing I wanted was to give these monsters the satisfaction of knowing the extent of my fear. Instead, I whispered, “Yes, Mistress,” hoping that my submissive tone would be enough to satisfy their curiosity.

The fox-masked woman reached out and cupped my breast, her cold fingers sending a shock through me. The feel of her hand squeezing and groping my flesh was an unwelcome reminder of what I was here for. “These feel quite real,” she said with a knowing smile.

“Really? Let me see,” the second fox-masked woman said, stepping closer to inspect my chest. Before I could react, her hand joined the first, both of them fondling me without a trace of consent. The sensation was surprising, almost as much as their blatant disregard for my humanity. I tried to keep my breathing steady, to not give them the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort.

“If it would please my ladies, my breasts are all natural as well,” came Hana’s cutesy reply, surprising me at her forwardness. Her voice was sweet as honey, the same one that had endeared her to her thousands of online fans.

The two women leaned in closer, their eyes glinting with greed. “Ah, a pair of natural beauties,” one of them cooed, her eyes glittering with malicious pleasure. The other’s hand reached out to cup Hana’s breast, “hmm, soft yes but not quite as large.”

Her partner nodded in agreement, “But she does have that ‘innocent’ look about her.”

Their words were like knives, slicing through any hope of dignity we had left. Yet, Hana played the role she’d been forced into, giggling and blushing at their touch. “I-I try, Mistress,” she murmured, her voice a perfect mix of shyness and eagerness to please.

“What do you think Vicky, should we have them play a little game?” The fox-masked woman’s eyes glinted with mischief as she turned to her companion.

My heart raced at the prospect, fear and anticipation warring within me. What twisted game could they possibly have in mind for us? Vicky shook her head slightly, a flicker of something akin to pity crossing her eyes before it was hidden behind the mask. “Nah, hubby only gave me one token, and I plan to use it wisely.”

The two fox-masked women giggled behind their hands, their eyes lingering on us like we were pieces of fine art they hadn’t decided whether to buy or simply admire. After what felt like an eternity, they turned and melted back into the crowd. I took a shaky breath, feeling the tightness in my chest loosen slightly.

But the reprieve was short-lived as I heard the sound of a whimper somewhere off to our right. Turning my head, I spotted a classic Halloween game that had been twisted into a perverted facsimile. A small number of slaves were kneeling on a stage, and were attempting to eat treats tied to the end of a number of strings dangling in the air above them. Only, instead of apples, phallus-shaped popsicles were dangling tantalizingly in front of them. The sight was grotesque and mesmerizing, the three girls’ desperate movements to lick and suck on the treat a humiliating dance of obedience.

Standing near the crowd my eyes moved towards where the sound of the whimpers had emanated. There a handler stood behind Lacie and Bunny, who were cowering before a man dressed in a wolf mask. His mask’s eyes glinted with a predatory hunger as he towered over them, a pair of game tokens clutched in his hand.

Something about the situation struck me as off, like a chord out of place in an otherwise perfect symphony of horror. The man’s wolf mask was a smooth black onyx of polygons in the shape of a wolf’s head. It was as if the mask had been made to draw a person’s attention and unnerve the viewer at the same time. But it was his posture that was unnerving—his other hand was hovering ominously over the velvet pouch at his side, and his eyes, those piercing eyes, bore into the two like he was trying to burn their very souls.

For a moment, the wolf-masked man’s gaze remained locked on Bunny and Lacie. Then, without warning, his head snapped in our direction, and the mask’s ominous visage shifted to focus solely on us. A shiver of unease ran down my spine as his head tilted in a curious manner, his eyes—the only visible part of his face—scanning over Hana and I with a disturbing intensity.

With a predatory grace, he began to approach us, his steps slow and precise, as if he were stalking his prey. The handler’s grip on our leashes tightened, her own fear palpable as she whispered a warning under her breath. “Behave,” she hissed, her eyes flickering to the approaching figure.

My eyes widened as the wolf-masked man started to approach us, but it was the flicker of movement from Bunny that truly sent a jolt of terror through my veins. She’d caught a glimpse of him heading our way and had visibly stiffened, then looked as though she might try to get the wolf masked man’s attention, only to be yanked back by her handler.

If Bunny and Lacie were so fearful of this man it could only mean one thing…

“Ah Mr. Lenix, I see you’ve noticed the big ticket item of our auction tonight.” Lydia said, appearing out of nowhere, her voice a purr of satisfaction. The wolf-masked man was none other than Bunny and Lacie’s former owner which meant this was a very dangerous man and we were now in a very dangerous situation , “Let me introduce you, this is Hana she’s a-“

“I know very well who Miss Horihitsu is,” Mr. Lenix said, cutting her off. His voice was a deep, smug rumble that sent waves of dread through my body. He had the confidence of a man who was used to getting what he wanted. His hand reached out to touch Hana’s cheek, and she flinched at the cold touch of his gloved hand. “While I don’t normally pay attention to inconsequential things like social media, even I know of the sweet, shy little submissive that has captured so many hearts trying to help so ‘many’ little subs be ‘good’ for their ‘masters’.”

“Umm, yes well,” Lydia stuttered, trying to hide the disdain at being interrupted by the man. “And this is-“

“Tell me slave, is it true that you’ve been saving yourself for your one true master whom you’ve been looking for?” Lenix said cutting off Lydia yet again, his eyes boring into Hana.

To Hana’s credit, she maintained her cutesy persona without missing a beat, “Y-yes, sir,” she said, her voice quivering slightly, “I’ve been waiting for someone worthy to give myself to.”

Lenix’s eyes lit up with a predatory glint, and he leaned in closer to whisper in Hana’s ear, his breath hot and moist against her skin. “Well if I purchase you tonight, my dear, you won’t have a choice in the matter, will you?”

Hana’s body tensed, but she managed to keep her voice steady as she replied, “N-no, sir,” her eyes darting to me for a brief second.

Straightening up I watched as Lenix turned to Lydia, “And what of your other little prize, the one with the harem outfit on?”

Lydia’s eyes glinted with something akin to pride as she stepped closer to me, “This is Taylor, Mr. Lenix. She’s already proven quite the natural submissive, eager to please and quite adept at handling the more… vigorous activities.”

For a brief moment, I saw a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced with something else—a cold, calculated hunger. He stepped closer, and I could feel the heat of his body despite the coolness of the room.

“Well as much as I enjoy breaking them in myself it might be nice to have one so… compliant, especially one as lovely as this one.” Lenix’s hand reached out, stroking the side of my face. His touch was firm, the kind of touch that sent a shiver of revulsion and fear through me. It was once again clear that he was used to getting what he wanted and the thought of being his plaything was a nightmare I didn’t even dare to imagine.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot and reeking of champagne as he whispered, “Perhaps I’ll return and put these two through a number of games once I’ve finished checking out the rest of your stock.”

Lydia nodded eagerly, her eyes gleaming with excitement and greed, “Of course, Mr. Lenix. We’ll make sure they’re ready for whatever you wish to do with them.”

As soon as he was out of earshot, Lydia’s smile dropped like a curtain falling at the end of a play. She turned to our handler, her voice low and urgent, “Keep them close. Lenix has a history of… getting rough with the merchandise before purchase.” The handler’s grip on our leashes tightened, her eyes flicking back to us with newfound wariness.

“Yes Mistress Fox,” our handler responded, her voice a taut wire of nerves. She tightened her grip on our leashes, her knuckles white as she watched Lydia disappear off to attend to other potential buyers. “Come along slaves there are a lot of buyers to meet,” she whispered, pulling us through the throng of perverts and sadists that were eyeing us like we were the main course at a banquet.

The next thirty minutes were a blur of lecherous whispers, roving hands, and probing eyes. Each person we encountered had a different taste for their perversion. One man, wearing a bat mask that was as elegant as it was eerie, had me perform a little dance, his eyes glinting with amusement as I twirled awkwardly in my heels and my coin belt jingled with every step. Another, a bear of a man in a devil’s mask, had Hana kneel before him, her head bent in submission as he played with her hair creepily.

Another couple, both dressed as vampires, had us stand still as they discussed our ‘properties’ in hushed whispers. The woman’s fingernails, painted a deep shade of crimson, traced the lines of my abdomen, her eyes gleaming with a hunger that had nothing to do with the blood her costume suggested. Her partner, a man with slicked-back hair and a cape that flowed behind him like a cloak of darkness, leaned in to inhale deeply near Hana’s neck.

Fortunately a subtle cough from our handler snapped the couple out of their trance-like state, and they stepped back with a nod of understanding. We were then paraded to the next potential buyer, a woman dressed in a crimson gown and a ruby masquerade mask. She had an aura of authority that was perceptible even in the sea of dominance that surrounded us. She looked us up and down, her eyes lingering on us before she stepped closer.

For once Hana was completely ignored, and I felt a flicker of relief for her, but it was short-lived as the woman proceeded to ask question after question. All the while she seemed to feel up every inch of my body, her eyes gleaming with a hunger that was unsettling. She had me bend over so she could inspect my behind, her cold fingers prodding and poking in a way that made my skin crawl.

Thankfully, the woman’s inspection was thorough but brief, and she moved on without much fanfare, leaving us to the mercy of our handler’s next destination. The next potential buyers were a pair of French lesbians, and to my surprise they’d brought a slave girl of their own with them. I was surprised because very few potential buyers seemed to risk bringing their own property to an event like this, no doubt fearful of being caught should their property manage to escape.

“Ello zare, whom do we ‘ave ‘ere?” one of the French lesbians cooed, her accent thick and her eyes gleaming with excitement. She was dressed in a sapphire blue gown that clung to her curves, the same color as the mask that obscured all but her crimson painted lips.

Her partner, dressed similarly in a matching sapphire gown, stepped closer to inspect us, her eyes lingering on every curve and inch of our exposed skin. She ran a finger down my spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Ah, zey are quite lovely,” she murmured appreciatively, her gaze lingering on the leash that bound Hana and I together.

The handler nodded, her voice shaking slightly. “Taylor here is a very… obedient servant,” she said, her eyes flicking to the leather collar around my neck, “and Hana, while she’s a virgin, is a well known online submissive, eager to serve and find her true master… or mistress.”

“Hana… as in Hana Horihitsu?! Oh Sasha I know zis’ one, she’s all over my feed,” the second lesbian whispered excitedly to her partner, her eyes sparkling with recognition behind the sapphire mask.

“Really? Interesting, however I’d like to know more about this one, I think she’d make a better fit for our little Sally here,” Sasha said, gesturing to the slave girl standing quietly beside them. The girl named Sally had buzzed short black hair, piercing green eyes, and a smattering of facial piercings. Her harem outfit was almost an exact copy of mine, but in sapphire blue to match her Mistresses’ attire. She was beautiful in a rebellious kind of way, and it was clear she’d been trained well, standing with her head bowed and her arms behind her back, wrists bound in golden manacles.

“We purchased our beloved Sally ere’ not too long ago, but she’s been quite lonely,” Sasha began, her sapphire eyes sparkling with mischief. “We’re looking for a playmate for her, someone to… keep her company in her downtime, you understand?”

The handler nodded, her grip on our leashes loosening slightly as she stepped aside to give the pair a better look at us. “From what Mistress Fox tells me Taylor here is quite the… adept playmate,” she said, her voice changing to low and seductive.

“What about Hana ere’?” the second lesbian, said, her eyes raking over Hana’s lithe body. “Could she be a suitable playmate for our Sally?”

“Francine, Hana is lovely… but probably not as experienced as our Sally would prefer,” Sasha murmured, her eyes never leaving me. “But you, Taylor, you look like you could handle… a more energetic playdate.”

Despite the ordeal I’d experienced over the past few days I couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity as the lesbian couple spoke of their slave, Sally. There was a warmth in their voices that was starkly different from the cold, predatory tones of the other buyers we’d encountered. It was almost… affectionate.

The thought of being bought by the French lesbians was a strange comfort compared to the horror of Lenix’s potential ownership. Their eyes, though hungry, held a warmth and affection that was lacking in the others. The way they spoke about Sally, their current slave, was almost tender.

“I.. I would be happy to serve your Sally,” I managed to choke out, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. But the thought of being bought by a couple that seemed to actually care for their slave was a comforting alternative to the cold, calculating gazes of the other buyers.

“We will ave’ to keep an eye out for zis’ one during zee’ auction, oui’?” Sasha whispered to her partner, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she took in my form. Her hand trailed down my arm, her touch surprisingly gentle compared to the roughness of the others.

Francine nodded in agreement, “We must indeed. She sounds like she would be quite capable of keeping our Sally satisfied.” Her eyes lingered on the leather collar around my neck, a flicker of something akin to pity crossing her features. “Well come Sasha, let's keep moving, we ave’ so much more to see before zee auction starts,” she said, placing a gentle hand on her partner’s arm.

As we were led away from the French lesbians, the handler leaned down to whisper in my ear, “You’d be lucky to be picked by a pair like them,” she said, her voice tight with a mix of envy and resignation. “From what I know they treat their property well, if you know what I-“

“Hey check out those two,” a gruff voice interrupted the handler’s whisper, and my heart sank as we were shoved towards a new set of potential buyers. Four men in suits wearing generic black masks with no frills or decorations lounged against the velvet-covered walls of the grand hall. They had the air of corporate sharks at a business meeting, their eyes raking over us like we were the latest stock market figures to be dissected.

“Hey, handler! Bring those two over here, will ya?” one of the men called out, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he stepped away from the wall. His voice was like gravel, and his eyes raked over us with the same hunger I’d seen in so many gazes.

Our handler complied, leading us closer with a reluctance that was obvious. The four men were like a wall of darkness, their black suits blending with the shadows of the room. Each one was bigger than the last, and their masks did little to hide the lechery in their gazes.

“Would sirs like to hear more about them?” the handler asked, her voice quivering.

“Tell me about the Asian one, she looks familiar.” A spikey-haired man, who had the aura of a rockstar, stepped forward from the pack of black-masked buyers. His eyes were a piercing blue, and his gaze was unsettlingly focused on Hana.

The handler cleared her throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Ah, yes. This is Hana Horihitsu. She’s quite the sensation in the online community, a fresh-“

“I KNEW IT!” the rockstar-esque man exclaimed, cutting off the handler mid-sentence. His hand shot out to grab Hana’s face, his fingers digging into her cheek painfully. “You’re the one who’s been teasing me online, aren’t you? All those little clips, those sweet, sweet whispers of submission. I’ve been dying to get my hands on you for weeks.”

“I uh-“ Hana seemed to struggle to maintain her cutesy persona under the intense scrutiny, her voice a little shaky as she nodded. “Y-yes, s-sir.”

“Hey! I know let’s make them play some games, show us what they can do,” another of the men suggested, a glint of malicious excitement in his eyes. He was the largest of the four, with a bald head that gleamed under the chandeliers like a polished bowling ball.

“Of course sirs, you’ll need to offer a token for each game,” the handler said, her voice trembling slightly.

“Yeah, yeah I got it,” the rockstar-esque man said, his voice dripping with excitement as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a pair of shiny golden tokens. “One for each of them,” he said, tossing the coins at our handler with a smug grin.

The handler caught the tokens with a grimace, her eyes flicking to the floor briefly before she spoke, “As you wish sirs, which game would you like to see them play?”

“Oh, make them do the dick bobbing!” One of the men in black suits, who had yet to speak, suggested with a leer. His mask didn’t hide his grin, stretching from ear to ear like a sadistic Cheshire cat.

“No, I wanna see them do the spooky obstacle course!” The bald man boomed, his enthusiasm causing the other three to chuckle darkly.

“Oy! They’re my tokens, I’ll decide the games!” The rockstar-esque man snatched the leashes from the handler, his grip firm and unyielding. “If you dickheads wanna cough up ten grand more, you can watch whatever you want.”

“Sir, if you don’t mind what game would you prefer?” The handler’s voice was tight with nerves as she addressed the rockstar-esque man.

“Yeah, I wanna see how well these two can suck a cock,” the man said as he led Hana and I back towards where we’d last seen Bunny and Lacie. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread wash over me as we approached the makeshift stage that had been set up in the corner of the room. It was the same game I’d first spied a number of the other girls playing earlier in the night, and the sight of it was as mortifying as it was degrading.

The large wooden beam was still there, the row of hooks with strings attached to them hanging down with a set of dick-shaped popsicles dangling from each. Earlier there had been three girls kneeling before it, but now six other captives were being led to the stage by their handlers, their expressions a mix of humiliation and resignation. The crowd around the stage had grown, eager to watch the new round of ‘entertainment’ that was about to unfold.

“I have two more participants,” the handler announced to a guard that was overseeing the game setup.

Walking down the steps the hulking guard took our leashes from the rockstar-esque man and led us to our designated spots in the lineup. The dick-shaped popsicles were already melting slightly, the sugary smell of them mixing with the sickly sweet scent of the incense that permeated the room. My knees were shaking so badly that I was surprised I didn’t collapse onto the floor right then and there. Hana’s fake cheery persona was in full swing, but I could see a smidgen of real fear in her eyes, which she quickly masked with a coy smile as she glanced at me.

After the guard pulled back my veil, I was made to kneel in one of the empty spaces at the end under the beam, my heart hammering in my chest like a drum. A dick-shaped popsicle dangled in front of me, a cherry red color that glistened under the spotlights above. It looked sweet but smelled sour, the kind of sour that made your stomach churn or provide a group of onlookers heaps of entertainment as they watched the taster’s face contort in disgust.

Personally, I had always had a strong aversion to sour candy, especially the kind that makes your cheeks pucker and eyes water. But a look to my left told me that Hana, who had been placed next to me, was unfazed. She sniffed the popsicle that dangled from the string, the corner of her lips tugged upwards slightly as if she enjoyed the tart scent of the impending challenge.

The sound of high heels clicking against the stage floor drew my gaze to a newcomer. A pretty blonde woman in a simple maxi dress and a black mask had made her way to the center of the small stage, a microphone in hand. Her presence seemed out of place among the sea of opulence and depravity, her attire no doubt meant to convey that she was a member of staff of the resort rather than a participant in the evening’s grisly festivities. She cleared her throat, the sound echoing through the grand hall, commanding the attention of the eager audience nearby.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced, her voice clear and authoritative, “it’s time for our next game. I’m sure you’re all enjoying the evening’s entertainment, and now that our gala has warmed up, for this round I’m thrilled to introduce a full roster of eager participants. Let’s welcome them with a round of applause!”

The crowd's applause was thunderous, and the sound of it echoed through the area, a stark contrast to the trembling in my chest. The blonde woman, our MC for the game, had a smile that was as cold as the icy treats adorning the stage. She strutted back and forth, the microphone gliding over the velvet carpet as if it was an extension of her hand. “Now, now,” she cooed, her voice a siren’s song that sent a shiver down my spine, “let’s get down to business, for those who missed the first round I’ll explain the rules.”

Her eyes swept over us, and she pointed to the popsicles, “Each of our lovely contestants has one objective – to be the first to devour this delightful treat,” she said, her tone as sweet as the sugared dicks before us. “The winner will be spared the humiliation of punishment,” she announced, her smile never wavering, “and the kind soul who offered the token for their participation will receive a delightful bonus – they’ll get their money back and an additional ten grand off a single item during the auction tonight.”

The audience erupted in applause, and I felt bile rise in my throat. The thought of being forced to perform such a degrading act was bad enough, but the fact that it was a game to them, a spectacle for their twisted amusement, was almost too much to bear. The blonde woman waited for the applause to die down before continuing, “And not to worry, the sponsors whose chosen slave didn’t win the game get a consolation prize. They get to come up on stage and deliver ten lashes of their choice. Whether it’s with a flogger, riding crop, or a good old-fashioned one-handed applause to a fine ass.”

The crowd chuckled at the MC’s sadistic twist, their laughter a cacophony of dark amusement. I however wasn’t laughing as I eyed the pungent dangling popsicles before us. The game was simple, yet humiliating – the first to devour their treat would be the victor, granting them a temporary reprieve from further embarrassment, but to do that I’d have to get past the sourness that made my mouth water for all the wrong reasons.

“Alright slaves, are we ready to begin?” the MC taunted, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “On your marks, get set… go!”

The room fell silent as the eight of us lunged for our respective popsicles, my eyes widened and I couldn’t hide my grimace at the taste. It was worse than I was expecting, the flavored ice wasn’t just sour, it was ‘humiliate yourself online for views’ sour. My tongue felt as if it had been dipped in vinegar and the more I tried to get through it, the more I felt my taste buds revolt.

Laughter echoed from the crowd and I knew I wasn’t the only one struggling. I had to pull back a number of times to catch my breath, the sour taste burning my throat with every attempt. Hana on the other hand was making quick work of her popsicle, her mouth moving with surprising skill and speed.

“Wait!” The MC’s voice rang out, the sound of the word echoing through the silent hall. She stopped mid-step and the crowd leaned in, their anticipation palpable. ”It seems we have a rule breaker,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she pointed at the right side of the stage where a young brunette slave was eagerly devouring her popsicle. “The witch in position number one, you’re disqualified! Biting through the popsicles is against the rules!”

I groaned internally having been contemplating the same strategy. Still it was a unfair judgment in my opinion since the MC hadn’t explicitly stated that biting was off-limits. The brunette looked up with a mix of horror and surprise, her eyes wide with panic. The guard next to her stepped forward, grabbed her by the hair, and yanked her to her feet, pulling her away from the game off to the side of the stage.

Taking a deep breath I dove back in along with the others, the sourness of the popsicle hitting me like a wave. Each suck and slurp I took was met with the crowd’s rapt attention and their occasional cheers or jeers. Despite the burning in my throat, I pushed through, not wanting to face having to endure a humiliating punishment in front of the crowd.

It was a grueling race, the sourness of the popsicles playing havoc with my senses, making my eyes water and my jaw ache. Yet despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help wince when the MC spoke next, "Well, well, look at that! It seems we have a clear winner!”

Leaning back I looked over in surprise, I hadn’t even gotten halfway through mine. Yet, Hana sat back looking relieved at having won, her mouth sticky with the remnants of her popsicle. The crowd’s applause was reserved, almost as if they were disappointed that the game had ended so quickly. But the rockstar-esque man who had sponsored us was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes glued to Hana as she licked her lips clean.

“Come on folks give the magical girl here a round of applause!” The MC’s voice boomed, the crowd’s applause growing as a guard helped Hana to stand, “Hana, you may return to your handler after giving your sponsor this,” the MC held up an orange token to Hana’s mouth, “It’s a special one, just for our dear winner!”

Hana looked taken aback but opened her mouth obediently, accepting the token. She walked back to the rockstar-esque man, who took the token with a smirk, his eyes never leaving hers. He leaned down, whispering something no doubt crude in her ear, and she responded with a forced giggle, playing the role she knew he wanted. I felt a twinge of anger and fear for her, but I also felt a strange sense of relief she wouldn’t have to endure the punishment.

I and the rest of the other contestants who didn’t win weren’t so lucky, though. The rockstar-esque man stepped up to the stage along with six other potential buyers who had lost the game, each eyeing us like they were the real winners. I felt a cold knot of dread form in my stomach as the MC announced, “And now, for our consolation prize!”

The six potential buyers, each eager to claim their consolation prize, were offered their choice of a riding crop or a flogger by the hulking guard standing sentry beside the stage. The rockstar-esque man who had sponsored Hana and me took a moment to consider his options, his eyes flicking between the two implements of punishment. Instead of choosing either, he held up his bare hand and grinned wickedly. “I’ve got my own weapon,” he said, flexing his fingers in a way that made it clear he was looking forward to the impending punishment.

“Slaves, turn around and bend over,” the MC instructed with a wicked smile. “Spread those legs and arch that back, make it look good for the audience!”

I took a deep breath, feeling a cold sweat break out over my body as I did as I was told. My knees were already shaking from the humiliation of the popsicle game, and now this… I forced myself to focus on my breathing as I stood, turned around and bent over, feeling the cool air of the grand hall kiss my exposed skin. The fabric of the loin cloth was pulled to the side, and my pussy was now on full display to the sadistic eyes of the rockstar-esque man and the audience.

“You may begin,” the MC announced, her voice dripping with delight at our torment.

Whack! The sound echoed through the hall, and a bolt of pain shot through my body as the first blow landed on my ass. I gritted my teeth, trying not to make a sound, but my resolve wavered with each subsequent hit. The rockstar-esque man took his time, savoring the moment as the crowd watched with eager anticipation. The first six slaps were agonizing, but the seventh… oh, the seventh was something else entirely. His hand didn’t connect with my ass cheek this time; instead, it slapped against my exposed pussy with a wet, sickening sound that made my stomach churn.

I yelped and jumped, the pain sharp and unexpected. The crowd’s laughter washed over me like a wave of ice water, my humiliation complete. The MC’s cold eyes met mine, and she smirked, enjoying every second of my torment. The rockstar-esque man leaned in close, his hot breath on my neck as he whispered, “You’re going to be a screamer, aren’t you?” His voice was like sandpaper, grating against my nerves.

“If… if that is what my buyer desires,” I replied through gritted teeth, my cheeks burning with both humiliation and pain. The rockstar-esque man’s sadistic chuckle sent a shiver down my spine.

Three more slaps followed, each one hitting my pussy with a force that made me whimper. The pain was unbearable, but I knew that making a scene would only make things worse. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the final slap. But it never came. Instead, the MC’s voice interrupted, “Oh, look at that! Time’s up, handlers if you would please take possession of your charges.”

The rockstar-esque man took a step back, his hand lingering in the air for a brief moment before dropping to his side. His grin was wide and predatory, his eyes never leaving my body as I straightened up, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. The mousy blonde who had been standing to the side of the stage with Hana’s and my leashes took a tentative step forward. She looked at the rockstar-esque man, her eyes tinged with nerves quickly reattached the leashes to our collars and began to lead us away from the stage.

“Hold on there,” The man’s smug voice stopped our handler in her tracks as she began to lead us away from the stage. He stepped in front of us, a silver token glinting in his hand. “I think I’d like a little one on one time to… evaluate your stock more closely.”

I eyed the token confusion marring my features, Lydia had held up a golden token for Hana and I to see earlier, so why was he holding a silver one now? Before I could ponder too long, our handler spoke up, “Very well, if you’ll follow me, sir.” She took the silver token from his hand and gave us both a firm tug on our leashes.

We were led away from the stage, my head held high despite the burning on my backside. The grand hall was a maze of games and exhibits, each more twisted than the last. I tried to keep my gaze forward, not wanting to see the depraved acts being performed around us. The handler steered us through the throngs of people, her steps quick and sure, until we reached a velvet roped-off section in the corner of the grand hall.

The roped off area contained a plush velvet lounge with a large, round table surrounded by leather chairs. There were a number of slaves looking uncomfortable as they sat next to or on the laps of potential buyers. Our handler stopped at the entrance, where a burly guard with a stern look in his eye surveyed the area.

She handed him the silver token and turned to us, her voice all business despite the glint of fear in her eyes. “Which slave would you like to inspect, sir?”

The rockstar-esque man looked back at me for a moment, his gaze lingering on my bruised and exposed skin before his eyes landed on Hana. “The magical girl,” he said, a smug smile playing on his lips.

The handler nodded and offered up Hana’s leash, her eyes flicking to me briefly before focusing on the rockstar-esque man again. He took it, his grip tightening around the leather as he tugged her closer. I didn’t envy her the intimate inspection she was about to receive, but I couldn’t help the tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, she’d find a buyer who didn’t want to break her. Then again the smug look on his face didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

Looking at the handler I considered asking what kind of a game this area was, after all Lydia hadn’t mentioned any VIP section in her earlier speech so this had to be some kind of a game… right?

“Um, what’s the… the purpose of this area?” I stumbled over my words, trying to keep my voice steady as the rockstar-esque man pulled Hana onto his lap as he sat down on one of the plush chairs.

The handler’s eyes flicked to the burly guard before she leaned in and whispered to me, “You ever heard of seven minutes in heaven?” Her voice was a mix of forced amusement and genuine fear, as if she was trying to make light of a dire situation.

Realization dawned on me, so it was true, this was a VIP section where the potential buyers could get an intimate look at their future investments. The handler’s words echoed in my head, a twisted version of a childhood game played in the basements of innocent teenagers, but here, it was far from innocent.

“Ah, there you are,” a chill ran down my spine as I recognized the voice, “I’ve made my rounds and I think I’d… wait, where's the other one?”

Lenix appeared behind us, his tall, muscular frame looming over the handler. She looked at him nervously, “Sir, she’s with another at the moment."

“What, with…” his eyes searched the area, landing on the rockstar-esque man who had Hana in his lap, “Hmm,” Lenix nodded, his gaze lingering on the sight before he turned back to me. “Well, then I guess I’ll take this one then.” He said holding up a silver token, his eyes on me, a predatory glint in his gaze that made me feel like a piece of meat.

I subconsciously took a step back as he slipped the token into my handler’s hand and took a firm grip on my leash. With a swift yank, he led me through the velvet ropes into the dimly lit area. The chill from his touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was being led to the slaughter. Remembering the way Lacie had cowered and stared at the floor of the van for hours, I knew I had to keep my wits about me.

‘I’m not his, there are guards around, he can’t hurt me too badly,’ I thought to myself, trying to convince myself that the fear coiling in my stomach was irrational. Yet, as we approached the love seat, Lenix pushed me down onto the cushions with more force than necessary, making it clear that this was no consensual rendezvous. He sat beside me, his large frame crowding into my space, making it impossible to ignore the heat emanating from his body.

Looking up I could see his mask was pointed in the direction of where Hana sat in a chair, the rockstar-esque man had her on his lap, one hand on her neck, the other stroking her thigh, his eyes gleaming with a possessive hunger. Lenix leaned closer, his fingers tightening around my collar, “I know quite a bit about your little friend there,” he said, his voice a low growl, “in fact I know enough about her that at one point I was quite tempted to track her down and acquire her myself.”

He paused for a moment, his eyes watching me closely, waiting for a reaction. I didn’t give him one. “But what I don’t know,” he continued, his voice a whisper that sent a shiver down my spine, “is anything about you, beyond what Lydia has told me.” His thumb stroked the side of my neck, sending goosebumps across my skin, “and given how difficult to train one of my last slaves was makes me think I could use an… extra compliant one like you for when I get tired of the usual games.”

At my confused expression, Lenix leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Oh, don’t be naïve,” he chuckled, “I see right through your friend’s act. She’s playing the perfect little submissive for everyone, probably hoping to land a soft buyer. One she can manipulate to her will.” His thumb traced a gentle circle around the base of my neck, the gesture seemingly affectionate but filled with a hidden threat. “But she’s a wild one, and she’ll show her true colors soon enough. They always do.”

With a tug on my leash, Lenix’s attention snapped back to me, his eyes gleaming with excitement behind the glossy black material. “But enough about your companion for the evening,” he said, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down my spine, “I didn’t spend twenty-five hundred to sit here in this juvenile party game to talk about her. I want to know more about you, so I’m going to ask you a series of questions and I want you to nod yes or no, but with one caveat."

He reached a hand underneath my costume and gently grasped my nipple, his thumb flicking over the piercing lightly. The coolness of his touch sent a bolt of shock through my body, and I struggled not to react. “And that is while I ask these questions, you will not make a facial expression or sound. If you do, you might just find yourself missing this little decoration,” he whispered, his words a dark threat in my ear.

I nodded, fear like I’ve never experienced before gripping me, my heart hammering against my ribcage. His hand lingered there, his thumb still flicking the piercing as he spoke, “Good, now tell me, have you ever had an owner that made you truly obey?” His grip tightened slightly, the pressure on my nipple increasing as his voice grew more intense.

I nodded again, trying to keep my expression neutral as the discomfort grew more intense, his hand jerking slightly as if he didn’t like my answer. His grip grew tighter, the metal of the piercing pulling against my flesh. The room around me swam as I focused solely on keeping my face blank. “Have you had anal much during your time as a submissive?”

I nodded again, the pressure on my nipple lessening slightly. It was a lie, but I was desperate to keep him from causing any more pain. The man’s eyes searched my face for any signs of deceit, but I held his gaze, willing him to believe me. His hand returned to gentle caresses, and I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief through my nose. The room was spinning, and my entire body felt like it was on fire, but I didn’t dare move.

“Do you get off on pain?” Lenix murmured, his eyes searching my face for any sign of a lie.

I nodded, trying to keep my breath steady despite the fear coiling in my chest. His grip on my nipple grew tighter, twisting it sharply. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I squeezed them shut to keep them from falling. The pain was unbearable, but I knew better than to react. If I did, the consequences would be far worse than this.

“Hmmm… do you have other piercings like this one?” Lenix asked, his eyes dropping to my breasts again.

I shook my head slightly, feeling the pressure of his hand increase as I denied having any other piercings like the ones on my nipples. His grip tightened, and I bit back a whimper as his thumb dug into the sensitive flesh around the ring. “That will most likely change if I purchase you,” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and cruel intent.

Finally, he leaned back in his chair, his grip loosening slightly on my leash. “Now, let’s get to the juicy details,” he murmured, “What’s the worst punishment you’ve ever received, and what did you do to deserve it?”

Seeing the trap laid before me, I remained silent, my eyes locked on Lenix’s. His question was a ploy to get me to disobey his earlier instructions, a silent test of my obedience. While I couldn’t see the smirk under his mask, I could hear it as he chuckled, “It would seem Fox wasn’t exaggerating about you, Miss Taylor.”

The sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and relief flooded through me as a guard appeared. “Time’s up, sir,” the guard announced firmly, his voice brokering no room for negotiation. Lenix’s hand left my neck, and the sudden absence of his touch made me realize how much I’d been holding my breath.

“Ah, already?” Lenix sounded almost disappointed, but his grip on my leash didn’t loosen as he turned to the guard. The guard nodded, his eyes not even flickering to me as he said, “Yes, sir.” With that, the guard took the leash from Lenix’s hand, helped me stand, and led us back to where Hana and our handler were waiting.

My leash was barely back in our handler’s grip before Lenix was stepping around the guard with another silver token in hand, his eyes locked onto Hana with a hunger that made my skin crawl. “I’d like to take this one for a little bit as well if you don’t mind,” he said, his voice laced with authority.

The handler's eyes widened for a split second before she composed herself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lenix,” she said firmly, her voice not wavering despite the tension in the air, “but another buyer has already paid for both these slaves to participate in a another game.” She held up a pair of golden tokens, the light glinting off their surfaces.

Lenix’s gaze shifted to the tokens, his expression darkening. “Hmm, fine,” he said, slipping the silver token back into his pocket with a grumble, “I guess I can wait a little longer to see if she’s worth the investment.” With that, he strode away, leaving us trembling in his wake.

The handler visibly relaxed once he was gone. “Come on you two, your sponsor awaits.”

We were led to the next game, the bobbing for cocks booth. It was a twist on a carnival game, where instead of apples, we had to try to grip floating dildos with our mouths while blindfolded, all the while kneeling around a large, clear tub filled with what I could only assume was water. My stomach churned as I took in the sight, this was going to be even more degrading than the popsicle game.

In the end it turned out to be much harder than I anticipated, the water in the tub was cold, and the dildos slipped from my mouth with ease. The audience’s laughter didn’t help either, their taunts and jeers echoing in my ears as I plunged my face into the water again and again. When the game finally finished neither Hana nor I had managed to retrieve one, a blonde slave dressed as a sexy nurse had won. She looked smug, a smirk playing on her painted lips as she held her prize aloft. The rockstar-esque man and his entourage thankfully moved on after punishments were once again doled out for our failure at the game. As they walked off our handler led us over to a nearby attendant who began to fix our makeup, her deft hands moving over our wet, sticky faces with practiced efficiency.

“You’re both looking a bit… disheveled,” she said, her voice filled with a forced cheerfulness that grated on my nerves. She applied a fresh coat of gloss to my lips, and I couldn’t help but cringe at the taste of the chlorine from the water in the tub. “Can’t have our stock looking less than perfect for the auction, now can we?”

The attendant worked quickly, her hands cold and efficient as she dried our hair and double checked our makeup. Once we were both deemed presentable, our handler led us back out into the bustling hall. As we walked, various other potential buyers looked us up and down, their eyes raking over our bodies like we were nothing more than livestock at a market.

My nerves skyrocketed as I spotted Lenix again, his piercing gaze locked onto us from across the room. He was deep in conversation with the twins and their handler, but as if sensing my fear, he turned in our direction. Just as he took a step towards us, a loud, low chime sounded through the hall, resonating off the high ceiling and sending a shiver down my spine.

“Attention honored guests, the evening’s auction will begin in ten minutes,” Lydia’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. “Handlers bring your charges to the grand stage for final inspection and bidding preparations.”

My heart hammered in my chest as our handler led us to the grand stage. The opulent room was filled with the murmur of excitement, the clinking of glasses, and the rustling of silk and leather. The smell of fear and arousal mingled with the scent of expensive cologne and perfume. On the far side of the room away from all the games, sat a large roped off area filled with chairs set around a large stage with a red velvet backdrop and gleaming gold accents. An auctioneer’s podium stood at the center, flanked by spotlights that were currently dark.

A large set of stairs led up to the stage, and as we ascended them, the weight of what was about to happen settled heavily on my shoulders. My legs felt like they were made of lead, each step a battle against the fear that threatened to consume me. A line of other slaves were already slowly ascending the stairs, their heads low and their eyes filled with the same dread that I felt. Hana and I were quickly dragged off towards the right side of the stage, and our handler dragged us to stand in the back corner far away from the curtains.

Behind the curtains, we were lined up along the sides of the stage, my heels clicked against the hardwood as Hana and I waited behind our handler. Lydia was back here as well ordering each pair of slaves and their handler into position. She walked down the line, her eyes scanning us as if we were livestock at a market.

The stage was massive, yet with the sixty of us crammed behind the velvet curtains made it feel claustrophobic. Each of us had a handler, their grips tight on our leashes, keeping us in line like a row of well-behaved dogs at a show. The left side of the stage was packed with the same mix of fear and anticipation that I saw reflected in the eyes of the slaves around me. Their costumes ranged from elegant to scandalously revealing, each tailored to showcase their bodies as commodities.

“Psst, hey Tay.. Taylor, hey!” A faint whisper pulled me from my daze, and I turned to see Bunny and Lacie standing next to us. I hadn’t noticed them amidst the chaos, but their presence brought a semblance of comfort. Their eyes were wide with nervousness, but there was a hint of determination in their stance… we’ll in Bunny’s stance at least.

Lacie looked like she was on the brink of tears, her eyes darting around the room as her hands fidgeted nervously in their bonds behind her back. “I’m okay,” I murmured to her, trying to offer some comfort despite my own fear.

“I saw that bastard Lenix head your way earlier, he didn’t…” Bunny’s whispered question trailed off and not wanting to worry her I forced a smile, “We’re okay, we-“

“That’s enough chatter slaves, be silent or face the consequences,” Lydia snapped, her voice echoing through the tension-filled backstage area. The whispered conversations ceased immediately, and we all took a collective deep breath, trying to compose ourselves. The anticipation was palpable, a thick, suffocating fog of fear and dread.

My eyes jerked to Lydia, watching as she gave us all one last appraisal before walking out from between the velvet curtains. Her figure was a stark silhouette against the spotlights that had flickered to life as the curtains parted about ten feet at center stage. She took her place at the podium, her posture commanding. The sound of her heels clicking against the stage echoed through the room, a sharp punctuation to the hushed whispers of the audience.

“Masters and Mistresses, esteemed guests, welcome to the pièce de résistance of our Halloween Gala!” Lydia’s voice boomed from the podium, a mix of excitement and authority that sent shivers down my spine. I watched from the wings as the spotlights grew brighter, casting an ethereal glow over her figure.

“Now I am delighted to inform you that this year’s Halloween Gala is even more exquisite than the last,” Lydia’s voice resonated through the grand hall, her words a dark serenade that sent shivers down the spines of the captive women around me. “We have doubled our attendees, which normally would mean the chance of many of you acquiring a new plaything would be a good deal less likely.”

A murmur of disappointment rippled through the crowd, only to be replaced by a wave of eager anticipation as Lydia continued. “But fear not,” she purred into the microphone, a wicked smile playing on her lips, “because for this event, and this event alone, we have worked tirelessly to ensure that we have double the stock of exquisite, fresh meat to offer you all!”

Fresh cheers erupted from the audience as Lydia announced the increased number of slaves for the auction. The sound of their excitement made my stomach churn, and I couldn’t help but glance at Hana, who was standing next to me, equally as nervous. Her bound hands found mine, giving it a comforting squeeze behind our backs. The warmth of her touch was a small reassurance in the sea of cold, harsh reality.

Lydia’s voice grew louder, and the spotlights grew brighter as she announced the rules. Each of us would be presented on stage, one by one, for the audience to inspect and bid on. The starting bid was a ludicrous amount of twenty thousand dollars, an amount that made my head spin, and the thought of what kind of monster had that kind of money to spend on a human being was almost too much to bear.

As she finished speaking, the velvet curtains swished closed, blocking us from Lydia’s view in front of the podium. A hydraulic whirr filled the tense silence as a chain descended from above, coming to a stop right in front of where the curtains met. The chain was a thick and gleaming chrome, ending in a carabiner that dangled ominously.

“Without further ado, let us begin!” Lydia’s words were like a gunshot, signaling the start of our descent into the worst nightmare imaginable. Walking back through the curtains, Lydia looked to her right and snapped her fingers at a handler urging her to bring over the first slave. A pair of brunettes each wearing their own distinctly sexy costumes stepped over to where Lydia stood next to the dangling carabiner.

The two brunettes, one wearing a French maid outfit and the other a slutty devil costume, stood nervously as Lydia said something to their handler. Then grabbing the one wearing the French maid costume, Lydia unclipped her from her leash, unlocked her cuffs from behind her back and then re-locked her cuffs to the carabiner. My stomach fluttered as I watched the chain begin to rise back into the air, lifting her arms high until she was standing on her tiptoes.

The curtains parted again, just a sliver as Lydia stepped back into the spotlight, the crowd’s cheers growing as they caught a glimpse of the first slave to be presented. The French maid’s eyes were wide with fear, her chest heaving as she tried to keep her breathing steady. The audience couldn’t see her anymore, but the anticipation grew as they heard the sound of her chains clinking and the soft whimpers she couldn’t hold back.

Lydia announced the first slave with a flourish, her voice dripping with excitement, “Our first lovely lady of the evening is a delightful French maid, her name is…Mona!” The crowd’s applause and cheers filled the grand hall, and the spotlights danced as the curtains parted just enough to reveal Mona’s suspended form. Her breasts pushed against the tight fabric of her costume, and her legs quivered slightly as she struggled to maintain her balance on her tiptoes.

I then got to listen as Lydia listed off the poor girl’s ‘attributes’ to the salivating audience, her voice a mix of salesmanship and sadistic glee. Mona’s eyes were wide with terror, but she remained silent, the only sounds coming from her were the occasional gasps for breath and the metallic clink of the chains that held her aloft. The crowd's applause grew as the bidding began, “Alright do I have a starting bid of twenty thousand for this lovely slave?”

Right away I heard the sound of shouted bids and raised paddles, the universal signal for bids in this twisted world of the elite. My heart raced as the price for Mona shot up, each shout sending a bolt of terror through my body. Twenty-five, fifty, seventy-five thousand. It was a number so ludicrously high, so obscene for the purchase of a human being, that I couldn’t help but feel sick.

Finally the bids came to a stand still and I thought it was over, but the horror was only beginning. Lydia sailed over to Mona with a cruel smile, her stilettos clacking against the stage like a metronome keeping time with my racing heart. She grabbed the trembling girl by the shoulders and whispered something in her ear, something that made Mona’s eyes go wide with terror.

With a dramatic flourish, Lydia ripped away the dress portion of Mona’s French maid costume, leaving her in nothing but a headpiece, garter belt, fishnet stockings, and a scandalously small white lacy thong. The crowd gasped and then cheered as the bids shot up again, the sound of the shouts echoing in the vast space. When the bids finally stopped again the girl had been sold for…

“SOLD! For one hundred and seven thousand dollars, madam you may ascend and claim your prize after paying in the back.” Lydia announced, the final bid echoing in the grand hall. Mona’s eyes remained wide, her breath coming in short gasps as the chain lowered and the carabiner was unclipped from her wrists, sending her collapsing to the stage. The audience's applause grew even louder as the woman who’d bought her strutted up to the stage, her heels clicking like a predator’s footsteps.

Mona was unceremoniously helped to her feet by her handler and led away, along with her new owner to the back of the stage and out through a side door. An attendant gathered up the remnants of her costume, leaving the stage bare. My heart sank as the girl in the devil costume was unclipped from her leash and led up to the chain. The curtains which had closed after the previous girl’s new owner had claimed her, now parted again to reveal the next captive to be offered to the bidding floor.

The auction proceeded with a sickening rhythm. Each girl was introduced with a flurry of excitement and depravity, their names and ‘attributes’ listed like a twisted catalog. The spotlights danced as they were raised and lowered, revealing their bound forms to the eager eyes of the audience. The sound of shouted bids grew into a cacophony, a symphony of greed and desire that seemed to crescendo with each new bid.

One by one, the captives were unclipped from their handlers’ leashes and attached to the chain that would lift them into the spotlight. The cheers grew louder, the atmosphere more frenetic, as each new slave was presented. Some of the girls had the presence of mind to keep their composure, to stand tall and endure the humiliation with a stoic grace. Others, like Mona, couldn’t hold back their fear, their bodies betraying them with tremors and gasps.

They all ended up the same way at the end however, stripped down to almost nothing, and claimed by their new owners. It was like watching a macabre ballet of human commodification, each movement precise and practiced. The way the handlers moved the others into position, the way Lydia announced each of the girls like a prize to be won. The way the audience’s eyes devoured every inch of exposed skin, hungry for more.

Somewhere close to three hours passed by in a flurry of chains, whispers, and the sickening sound of an auctioneer’s gavel. My own time on the stage was approaching, the line of trembling figures growing shorter with each girl that was sold. The fear grew in the pit of my stomach, a black void threatening to swallow me whole as I listened to the applause and the degrading comments that followed each sale.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, we have only four more exquisite items left for your bidding pleasure,” Lydia announced with a malicious smile, the spotlights dimming before her, “Next up is a real treat, a fresh canvas for you to mold into your deepest desires.”

Hana, Bunny and I watched as Lacie was strung up next. Her body trembled, her breasts heaving with each shallow breath as the chains took her weight. She quivered on stage as the curtains drew back, revealing her to the audience. The room went silent for a beat before a storm of applause and eager bidding broke out. The sight of her exposed, vulnerable form, brought tears to my eyes. Despite her fear, she remained stoic, staring aimlessly at the floor as if to avoid the hungry gazes that bore into her soul.

And then, as the bids started to slow down for Lacie, I felt a flicker of hope. A pair of French accents cut through the cacophony, their words perfectly synchronized, the rhythm of their voices a contrast to the frenetic bidding. It was a sound so out of place amidst the chaos that it took a moment to register. But as their bid grew higher, so did my hope. Maybe, just maybe, someone with a shred of decency would take her. Someone who would treat her with care rather than as the disposable plaything that the rest of these monsters saw her as.

Like all the girls before her however, Lacie’s fate was sealed as Lydia, with a dramatic flourish, ripped the dress from her body, leaving her in a tiny scrap of red fabric that barely covered her modesty. The bidding for her began anew, and despite the horror of the situation, I found myself clinging to the hope that the French buyers would be her salvation. Their bids were swift and decisive, cutting through the sea of lecherous growls and smacks of the gavel.

Finally to my immense relief, the gavel slammed down, and Lydia announced, “SOLD! For fifty-five thousand dollars, this lovely specimen goes to the esteemed French Mistresses Francine and Sasha!” The audience erupted into applause, and I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. The French duo had outbid everyone else, and after Lacie was released from the hanging chains I watched as the two, along with their other slave Sally quickly rushed over and claimed her, their arms wrapping around her protectively as they whispered comforting words in her ear.

Looking to my right, I saw Bunny’s shoulders relax, and she let out a shaky breath, her eyes following the French buyers as they escorted Lacie away. There was a sense of relief in her gaze that mirrored my own. Maybe, just maybe, our friend wouldn’t end up in the hands of someone who would mistreat her already broken spirit.

But that relief was short-lived as I watched Bunny’s handler drag her over to the hanging chains in front of the reclosed curtain. Her eyes grew wide with uncertainty, and she looked back at me, her pupils dilated with terror. Her handler didn’t spare us a glance as she secured the carabiner to Bunny’s cuffs which were now in front of her, and with a cruel smirk she stepped back.

The chain began to rise, and Bunny’s feet left the ground with a jerk. She yelped in surprise, her legs kicking as she struggled to find purchase. The chain then lowered until she was at her full height, her arms stretched high above her, the weight of her body pulling the fabric of her costume tight against her body. The curtains parted once more, revealing her to the ravenous audience.

Lydia strutted over to her with the grace of a panther, her eyes gleaming with malicious excitement. “Our next contestant is a fiery little number, fresh and feisty!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the grand hall. “Ironically this sexy little bunny girl’s name is…Bunny!” The crowd erupted into laughter, a sadistic sound that only served to heighten the tension on stage.

Bunny’s cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger as Lydia’s fingers traced the curves of her body, her eyes roaming over the exposed flesh greedily. “Bunny here is quite the performer,” she purred into the microphone, “aren’t you, my dear? And as you can see she sports plenty of ink to match her fiery spirit. A delightful package for the right master.”

I imagined the audience leaning in, their eyes devouring every inch of Bunny’s trembling form as she struggled not to react to Lydia’s taunts. The bidding was quick, a flurry of shouts battling back and forth in a frenzied rhythm. My heart raced as the numbers climbed, fear for my new friend’s future making my chest tighten. Would she find kindness or cruelty?

“I have one hundred eighty five thousand, do I hear one hundred ninety?” Lydia’s voice was a whip crack in the air, urging the bidders to higher amounts. The room was alive with the electricity of desire and power. The spotlights cast a harsh glow on Bunny’s face, highlighting the sheen of sweat and the gloss of her painted lips.

“No? How about… NOW!” Lydia’s voice grew sharp, and my eyes snapped back to where Bunny hung as Lydia ripped the cups of her bunny costume down, exposing her breasts to the eager audience. Then Bunny was spun around and the back of her costume was wedgied upwards further cleaving her ass in two. The crowd roared with excitement as Lydia gave Bunny’s ass a loud resounding spank, the sound of their desire hitting us like a physical blow.

The bids grew frenzied, hands shooting up in the air as the price for Bunny’s ownership soared. The bids soon peaked, and just as quickly as they had begun, they ceased. Lydia slammed the gavel down with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine. “Sold!” she exclaimed, “For the staggering amount of two hundred and fifteen thousand dollars!”

My heart pounded in my chest as the rockstar-esque man from earlier sauntered through the curtains, his entourage trailing behind him like a dark cloud. His eyes locked on to the trembling form of my friend, a smirk playing on his lips as the handlers passed him a leash that he attached to Bunny’s collar once she had been released from the chain.

The curtains swished shut again, leaving us in the cold embrace of the velvet darkness. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the distant murmur of the audience and the sound of my own breathing. My heart raced as I felt another handler’s grip tighten around my arm, pulling me forward to take Bunny’s place. With a click I felt my wrists being released from behind my back, only to quickly be re-locked in front of me and clipped to the dangling carabiner.

Teetering in my heels I tried to steady my breath as the hydraulic whirr of the chain grew louder, soon like the others before me I felt my arms being lifted high above my head, the fabric of my costume stretching tight against my skin as the weight of my body was taken. Time seemed to stand still as I waited for the curtains to part and deliver me to my fate.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I have a real treat for you. While she’s not the main attraction of the night, I can… ‘personally’ tell you our next item up for bid is worth every penny.” Lydia purred in a way that sent chills down my spine. “This next one is a true blue submissive and loves being dominated like I love my morning coffee… maybe more.”

The crowd chuckled at Lydia’s sadistic humor, but all I could focus on was the fear pooling in my stomach. The curtains parted, and I was thrust into the blinding spotlight. My vision swam with the brightness, and my breathing grew ragged as the audience’s eyes bore into me. I could feel their greed, their hunger for control, their desire to own and break me.

“This lovely, heavenly harem girl you see before you,” Lydia announced, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure, “Is none other than Taylor. A delightful little minx who’s eager to please… aren’t you, darling?”

Swallowing, I looked up and as if my body had a will of its own I nodded, my head feeling heavy with the weight of the collar around my neck. The spotlight washed over me, the heat from it almost a physical presence as the audience leaned in to get a better look at their potential purchase. The chains rattled as I struggled to find my footing, my legs wobbling as the fabric of my costume shifted, revealing more of my body than I ever wanted to show to strangers.

“There you see, she’s quite the catch,” Lydia said, her voice a mix of pride and malicious glee. “Now let’s get down to business, shall we? Starting bid for this delicious morsel is fifty thousand dollars!”

“SEVENTY FIVE THOUSAND!” Came an immediate reply from the floor, a man’s deep, authoritative voice cutting through the murmur of the audience as he raised a paddle with a number on it. The jump in bidding was so sudden, so intense, it was like a knife to my chest. The bids would soon come in rapid succession, a staccato beat that seemed to quicken my own racing heart.

“NINETY THOUSAND!” The next bid was even quicker than the first, the voice thick with desire, the gavel slapping the podium like a demanding master cracking a whip.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my body to remain still despite the tremors that threatened to shake me apart. My legs trembled with the effort to remain standing, the weight of the chains pulling at my wrists as if they were trying to lift me into the air. The spotlight grew hotter, the fabric of my costume sticking to my skin, and my breath came in ragged gasps as I waited for the hammer to fall on my future.

And then, like a wolf pouncing on its prey, I heard it. The unmistakable, booming voice of the man who had earlier terrified me with his silver token, the one who had traumatized poor Lacie and made Bunny’s life a living hell. “ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY FIVE THOUSAND!” he called out, his voice echoing through the grand hall. My heart nearly stopped, the room spinning around me as I realized that the monster who had enjoyed my pain and humiliation was now bidding on me.

There in the front down to my left I spotted him, the Wolf Masked man Lenix, his eyes gleaming with the same predatory hunger that had been in them earlier. His paddle raised high in the air as he shouted his bid, his confidence palpable. The crowd hushed at the surprising price increase of the bid and for a moment silence reigned throughout the large hall. My heart was racing so fast I thought it might just jump out of my chest, the fear thick like a vice around my neck.

I breathed a sigh of relief as a number of other bids began to flood in once the shock had worn off, hoping beyond hope that someone, anyone, would outbid Lenix. But his presence was like a dark cloud that wouldn’t dissipate, each time another bid was made, he’d simply wait, his paddle poised, before countering with a price that grew increasingly obscene. The audience watched with rapt attention, the air in the room thick with the tension of the unfolding bidding war.

‘No, no, no, nooo!’ I internalized every time Lenix countered a bid.

Eventually like with every girl before me the bidding reached a crescendo, and Lydia strutted over to me, her eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and that familiar disturbing look of lust. I braced myself, expecting the worst, but she simply tugged at the ties of my loincloth, sliding it to the side and revealing my nakedness to the sea of faces.

Then she reached up and pulled the fabric of my harem top up to expose my breasts fully to the room, the bright lights reflecting off my piercings. The cold air hit them like a slap, and the audience’s eyes grew greedier. The bids began to rise again, the shouts and raised paddles a cacophony of ownership and desire. Lenix simply continued to watch from the sidelines, his eyes never leaving me, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

“TWO HUNDRED FORTY-FIVE THOUSAND GOING ONCE, GOING TWICE-“

“TWO HUNDRED FIFTY THOUSAND!” bellowed Lenix.

The bidding stopped abruptly, the room hanging on the precipice of a silent anticipation. Lydia’s eyes sparkled with greed, her smile a grotesque mockery of human emotion. I felt the ice in my veins as Lenix’s latest bid hung in the air.

“Two hundred fifty thousand, going once!”

“Two hundred fifty thousand going twice!”

The auctioneer’s gavel slammed down, sending a shiver down my spine. “SOLD! to the esteemed Mr. Lenix for the unprecedented sum of two hundred fifty thousand dollars!” The applause was deafening, a crescendo of cheers and claps that seemed to go on forever.

I felt my stomach bottom out, a chill flooding my body as the final bid was called out. Lenix had won. The cheers grew louder as Lydia stepped aside, making way for Lenix to claim his prize. His stride was long and purposeful, his boots thudding heavily against the stage as he approached. He was a vision of power and wealth, his very presence a reminder of the fate that awaited me.

“If you would like to take your new-“ Lydia was cut off as Lenix stepped onto the stage as I was released from the hanging chain, his presence like a black hole, swallowing all the light and joy that once existed. His hand reached for the leash attached to my collar, and with a firm grip, he pulled me towards him, the metal links of the leash cold against my skin.

“I’ll finish my transaction once the final item has been sold if you don’t mind,” Lenix said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards. Lydia’s smile faltered for a moment before she recovered, nodding her assent. The crowd murmured, their anticipation a near physical anomaly.

“Very well, I’ll have her taken to a holding area,” Lydia said, her eyes flicking to one of the guards standing at the side of the stage. He nodded curtly and approached me, taking my leash in a firm grip. My legs felt like jelly as I was led away, the audience’s applause a dull roar in my ears.

The guard led me back to the roped-off area where Lenix had first interrogated me earlier, although the memory felt like a lifetime ago. My legs trembled as I was forced to sit down on a cold, leather loveseat. The plush cushions offered no comfort as the reality of my situation sank in deeper than ever before.

Off in the distance, the auction raged on, the sound of the crowd’s applause morphing into the cacophony of a new bidding war. The sound grew louder as I recognized Hana’s name being called out, her fate being decided in the same cold, detached manner that mine had just been. My heart went out to her, knowing she was going through her own personal hell on that stage. The anticipation grew with each bid, the numbers climbing higher and higher.

I closed my eyes trying to shut out the world, my mind racing with thoughts of what Hana was enduring on stage. The sound of the bidding seemed to go on and on, a never-ending symphony of greed and lust. Each shouted number was a nail in the coffin of her freedom, and with each one, I felt a piece of myself being claimed as well.

Finally the shouting stopped and eventually I spotted the crowds flooding back out into the general area signifying the auction had ended. A good number of guests now sported their very own new little plaything trailing behind them as they walked. Closing my eyes again I tried to mentally prepare for what was to come next. If Lenix lost I would no doubt have an even rougher trip back to that horrifying mansion of his.

*Click-clack click-clack*

The stuttering sound of high heels approaching brought my eyes back to the room, and I steeled myself for what was to come. The click-clack grew louder, and the guard standing beside me tensed. A moment later, Lenix appeared along with a distraught looking Hana in tow as she struggled to keep up with his long, purposeful strides. The sight of her, taking quick frantic steps every time he jerked on her leash, made my stomach twist into a knot.

However unlike the last time I'd seen her, Hana's expression was now a mask of despair, her eyes glazed over as if she were in shock. She stumbled slightly, the heels she was forced to wear were nearly all that remained of her previous attire. Skirt and top had been torn away, leaving only the thong that barely covered her modesty and the ribbons in her hair, which had once been so playfully tied, now hung limp and sad around her face.

"You there, bring my property over here." Lenix's voice was as cold as ice, the words cutting through the air like a knife. The guard's grip tightened on my leash, pulling me to my unsteady feet. With trembling legs, I walked towards the monster who had just bought Hana and I.

As I approached, he reached out and snatched my leash out of the guard's hand. His grip was firm, almost painful, and he yanked on it sharply. I stumbled, the heels of my costume making it difficult to maintain my balance, and my body collided with his. He was like a wall of power, and nearly bounced me back. He didn't even flinch, his eyes never leaving mine, the smirk on his face growing as he watched my struggle.

"Mr. Lenix, I trust you're finding everything to your satisfaction?" Lydia's voice was a serpentine hiss that slithered through the air, pulling me back to the present moment. She had appeared out of nowhere, her presence as unwelcome as a cold slap in the face.

Lenix turned to her, his eyes never leaving me. "Indeed," he said, his voice a gruff growl, "I think I'll enjoy these little…toys… immensely." His eyes swept over us both, a chilling appraisal that made my skin crawl.

"Well, is there anything else we can do for you tonight?" Lydia asked, doing a poor job to hide her excitement at the prospect of Lenix’s departure.

Lenix’s grip on my leash tightened, his eyes never leaving mine as he said, "I think I'd like to have Hana here secured in a standard slave shipping crate and placed in the back of my SUV for the journey home." His words were like a punch to the gut, each one hitting harder than the last.

"And what of this one?" Lydia asked, gesturing to me with a manicured nail, her voice a brittle laugh that echoed in the vastness of the room.

Lenix 's eyes never left mine as he replied, "Oh, she'll be joining me in the backseat of my car for the journey home. It'll be a long drive, and I'd enjoy some…companionship." The way he said "companionship" sent a shiver down my spine. His smile was cold and predatory, and I knew exactly what he meant.

Lydia nodded, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Very well," she said, "we'll have her ready for you shortly." She snapped her fingers at the guard, who immediately took Hana's leash and began to lead her away. Hana shot me one last desperate look over her shoulder, her eyes pleading for rescue. But there was nothing I could do.

As they disappeared out of view, Lydia turned her attention back to me, her expression darkening. "Well Mr. Lenix," she said, "It seems we're all finished here." Her voice was a sweet, syrupy concoction that made me feel sick.

Lenix nodded, his gaze still locked on me. "Indeed," he said, "Thank you for the… entertaining evening, Lydia. Come along slave, the sooner we're off the sooner you can begin serving me." His words were a dark promise, a hint of the fate that awaited me.

As we made our way through the large hall, I kept my eyes lowered, trying to avoid the glances of the other patrons, the sound of their leather soles and heels clicking against the marble floor like a countdown to my doom. As we approached the grand double doors that led to the back hallways, I heard a sudden commotion. I couldn't help but glance up to see what was happening, and my heart sank.

Bunny, her eyes wide with horror, was struggling against her new owner's grip, but she wasn't focused on him. No, she was looking straight at us. Her eyes were filled with horror at who I was being led away by. Apparently without Lacie to worry about she no longer had to play the part of the submissive and seeing me being taken away by Lenix was too much for her to bear silently.

Her struggles didn't last however as a nearby guard stepped in, swiftly stuffing a ball gag in her mouth and securing it behind her head with a cruel twist of the strap. Her eyes went wide with terror and she tried to scream, the muffled sound of her protest echoing in the vast space. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she stared at me in a silent outrage.

Lenix just smirked and gave my leash a vicious tug, pulling me away from the tragic scene unfolding with Bunny and I had no choice but to stumble after him with my legs wobbling in the ridiculously high heels as I was dragged off towards a fate unknown. The weight of his ownership felt like a thousand tons, crushing the air out of my lungs with every step he took. The room spun around me, the opulent decorations blurring into a sickening whirl of gold and red. I didn't know what my future held, but if the look in Bunny's eyes told me anything I knew it wouldn't be kind.