An Auction by Anonymous

 
I had nodded  hello to the woman in the seat across the aisle as we boarded the plane and settled into the business class section, but soon got involved in my own little world and paid little more attention to her, beyond noting that she was tall and slender and impeccably dressed with an air of cool, unbridgeable distance about her.

It was a routine flight, though a long one.  The meetings in Tokyo had gone well and I was relaxed enough to sleep comfortably for a nice long time.

When I woke I noticed that she was gazing at me assessingly.  She watched me become aware of her, then smiled an inscrutable smirk and just as I was about to say something pointedly turned away silently letting me know that she was not interested in talking.  The way she had been looking at me haunted me through the rest of the flight.

The captain announced that we would be arriving some 20 minutes earlier than we had anticipated, and so I used the phone to call my car service and let them know they could pick me up sooner than I had planned.  Before long we were descending into JFK and touching down on the runway. The sleek-looking woman across the aisle gathered up her few belongings and left the plane without a word to me or a glance in my direction. "Weird," I thought, but shivered a bit at the memory of her predatory gaze.   I saw her briefly at the baggage claim carousel but then lost track of her as my focus shifted to watching for my bag.

All the rituals of international arrivals behind me, I headed out to the terminal where I spotted the driver holding up a a sign with my name on it.  I identified myself and the driver, a young woman, took command of my rolling suitcase and I followed her out to the black town car at the curb.

I climbed into the back seat and composed myself for the nearly hour-long ride into the city, picking up the newspaper in the rack and beginning to read.

When I glanced up from the paper I noticed that we were in the east-bound lane of the highway, headed away from the city.  I knocked on the partition between myself and the driver and all I got for my trouble was an amused glance in the rear-view mirror.  I reached for my phone to call the dispatcher and found it was not in my jacket pocket where I always kept it.  The driver held up my phone and gave me another smirk.  I reached for the handle that opened the slide between us and found I couldn't drag the tough plastic back.  Panicked I began to pound on the partition.   It didn't give an inch.

The car slowed to exit the highway and rolled to a stop at a traffic light at the foot of the exit ramp.  I grabbed for the door handle, thinking I'd roll out and find the nearest police station to report this bizarre incident.

There was no handle.  I began to kick at the window with both feet, hoping to break it out and dive through.  I heard a slight hissing sound and moments later dropped into oblivion just as the car passed through a gate on a well-paved private road.

When I came to I was bound, standing upright, my legs spread apart and fastened by the ankles to rings in the cold stone floor.  My arms stretched out to either side.  I lifted my head to find myself on a sort of platform, with bright lights shining in my eyes.  Next to me, holding a riding crop, was the cool, distant woman from the plane.  She placed her hand under my chin and turned my face to hers.

"Ah, he's back with us.  How lovely.  Doesn't he have nice eyes, Ladies?"

She turned my face forward and I saw a gathering of some thirty elegantly dressed women seated in comfortable auditorium-auditorium style chairs.

"Now we left the bidding at $25,000.00.  Shall we continue?."

A woman in the middle of the group raised a sort of paddle.

"Ah, good!  $30,000."

I watched in shocked silence as the paddles were raised and lowered and the amount went up.  The auctioneer at one point began to stroke my penis and I had no choice but to respond and get hard in her hand.

"See, Ladies.  Lots of potential."

Another rush of bidding.  She then put on a latex glove and prodded at my anus.

"And a virgin, too!"

The bids rose and I looked for a way to escape.

The usual "Going, going, gone!"  was punctuated, not by a gave, but with blows of riding crop across my buttocks.

A tall redhead rose and crossed to the stage, mounting it by a short stairway.  She walked over to me and gave my face a good sound slap.

"Hello, mine."

She handed the auctioneer a check.

I was unceremoniously bundled off the platform through a rear door and handcuffed and shackled.  The last I heard from the auctioneer was,
"Now this next item, a lovely girl in her twenties..."