The Slave Auction Experience

The Slave Auction Experience

A few days later, we arrived, exhausted from having spent most of it packed shoulder-to-shoulder. Our collars were linked with chains and well dressed officers of Hellonian kingdom led us out of the wagons and into a huge open facility with booths, buildings, and sectioned off areas.

Hubhub of crowds that I couldn’t see filled my ears. Hundreds of slaves of all sexes were being ushered through booths by the staff, but considering the size of this place, there must’ve been thousands of us.

I stayed in line, following the freckled butt in front of me as we were led through a series of gates. First one sprayed us with screaming cold water at high pressure. Second one blew us with steam. Third one washed hot air over us, drying us up.

We made another quick stop by some kinda mage who checked our health, before being led to a massive roofed marketplace with multiple tens of ongoing auctions. Shouts of auctioneers competed in volume. Chatter of tens of thousands filled the gaps. The noise was deafening.

The first pair of eyes to land on me set my body afire.

It was a middle aged woman, nothing special, but the sheer indifference and cold pitiless look she gave me did something funny to my brain. More gazes licked me, some passing by, others lingering, all evaluating my ass and breasts and face, judging every pound of my flesh.

Their comments cut at my sense of worth with cruel indifference. ‘Only a C-plus.’ ‘A shame, drae breeder would’ve been nice.’ ‘Could still use her as a cum-rag.’ ‘There are better options.’ ‘No point buying broken merchandise.’

My head spun. Hot flush of erotic shame spread from my stomach to my cheeks and ears. I stumbled and tripped.

Girls to my front and back yelped and fell with me.

Murmur around us spiked. Even more eyes locked on my bare crotch as I struggled on the ground, grunting and whimpering as I tried to stand.

“Stay in line!” Shouted our officer, strutting over to crack my bottom with an electrified horse-whip.

I moaned, kicking my shackles as my body writhed on the ground.

“Dumb ass cattle slave, fucking costing me my coffee break. Get up. Up!” She hit me three more times with increasing voltage before bending down to haul my up by my hair.

Cries of pain escaped my lips. Tears welled in my eyes.

Her crop pressed against the bottom of my chin. “Stay. In Line.”

I nodded furiously, breathing in relief when she released me. Shivers of electricity continued to run down my spine as I followed my fellow slaves to a busy base behind the auction booths.

“Fresh arrivals,” announced our officer to a bubbly white-haired girl in a uniform dress.

“Ah! Wonderful. Thank you. Thank you. I’ll take it from here. Lets see. Let’s see. Grades S and above, open your mouths. Two S grades? Wowzers. Okay, close them. Grades A and above, mouths open. Thirteen? Nice. A-minus? Not so many. B...” She went on until everyone but me had opened their mouths. “...aaaand do we have a C.”CHeCk for new stories on no/v/el/bin(.)c0m

I swallowed and opened my mouth.

“No C?” the girl asked, too short to spot me.

“Hnngh!” I let out a moany whimper, keeping my mouth open.

She peeked sideways, spotting me and came over to inspect my ear-tag. “C... plus? Well, at least you aren’t a clean C.” The girl detached my collar from rest of the girls and shouted at another staff member. “Oi! Tzitzi, got another one for the Bars. Come and pick her up!”

Overcome with arousing shame, my eyes shot down the moment our gazes met. They paused before me, eyes roving up and down, judging every pound of my flesh. I tensed as one of them stepped up, pulling my earlobe to check on the tag.

“D-minus.” She frowned and returned to her friend. “Let’s keep on looking. I like the idea of using a drae for our experiment, but she’s going to need to be someone who can cooperate...”

Their chatter distanced from us.

I was left behind like a fruit too rotten to be worth picking.

Others continued walking past us, a steady stream of Hallonian wizards, all of them prim and proper in their tailored suit-robes, sharp wizard hats, and arcane cybernetics. Countless pairs of eyes saw me, many of them noting how I was drenched downstairs, smirking and scoffing when they realized that the girl they stared at was enjoying herself.

My head buzzed as strangers objectified me, judging my worth by the arbitrary tag I’d been given, not giving a single thought to who I might be underneath.

I reveled in the dizzying soup of degradation. Moments where visitors to the market stepped up to pull my ear, check my eyes, or cop a feel of my nubile flesh sent my heartbeat racing up to the Moons. One witch around my current age even came up to pinch my clit and labia until I cried, mumbling something about me becoming a test-slave for spells involving pain-inducement. My masochist heart nearly imploded from horny anticipation, until the girl’s older mentor came to pull her by the ear and scolded her for bullying the slaves.

Hours went by and the crowd thickened to a horde.

I... Not sure if I should add this part, but yeah, I got the urge to pee at one point. With my thighs clenched against the prison pole, I bellowed pleading noises through my gag, only to be ignored all the way until the pressure grew too much.

Tears in my eyes, I wet myself in front of a crowd of oh I dunno... hundred and fifty high class wizards?

Yeah, I did cum a little from that.

It flowed all over my legs, mixing with my wetness.

One bastard even snapped a picture with some kinda magic crystal device.

Thankfully the magic in the slave stands cleaned me up with a breeze of animated water and flowing air, but the experience left me huffing for many minutes afterwards, dreading the moment I would have to poop in public. Luckily, that never came up.

By the time evening rolled around, my legs and jaw were sore. My pussy chafed from prolonged penetration and arousal, and my wrists and ankles itched from metal shackles. Part of me feared (or wished) I’d spend days standing there.

Then, my goblin neighbor got lucky and was bought by a group of drunk middle aged witches. Less than a minute later, the tiny titty elf got herself purchased by a beautiful-handsome young wizard with a small town budget’s worth of magical bling in his fingers. I’d barely peeled my eyes off of the elf’s wiggling butt, when cold fingers touched my ear.

“D-minus,” noted a chipper female voice from behind a bronze arcane mask full of lenses and gizmos. She was short, shorter than me by full ahead. Not an inch of skin or hair was visible under the mask, white gloves, lab-coat, and witch’s hat. “Zis is vat they zay... accheptable. Yez. Ve zhall take zis specimen. DT-eleven, pay ze officials for transaction, yez? DT-tvelve, ”

Shadow of DT-11 covered the ceiling lights above me. I swallowed at the imposing silhouette of knotted muscle and thorny scales crowned by a wild mane of carnivorous flowers. Ink-black eyes and zigzag mouth of sharp corners turned her visage from imposing to almost nightmarish.

The three meter dryad with subclass in Death by snu-snu crushed my ankle shackles with two fingers. Her left hand wrapped around my thin waist and yanked me off the prison pole so fast that everyone nearby heard the slurp of my pussy hugging it.

The crazy scientist witch took out a holographic mana-pad to make notes. “One drae. Very good, yez. Let’z search for zee dragonoid, oni, and any fun zurprizes ve may find, yez.”

Her eyes met mine.

“Mhhghp?” I struggled weakly on DT-12’s shoulder, pulling my legs closer to cover my exposed ass.

“Ahck. Zis is... how they zay... avkvard? Ve vill make introduction later, but I am not in mood for ze zmall talk with zlave at prezent. DT-tvelve. Pack ze zlave in ze zack like ze otherz.”