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The bids begin at $100 and immediately climb to $2,000, then $3,000. Because of the spotlight trained on me and shining right into my eyes-and feeling deliciously warm on my trembling tits-I can't see every person who's bidding. I quite like the look of a silver haired man in the front row. He looks like he might be the kind of person I trade with at the bank, and people with that kind of money are always the most deviant fuckers out there. I should know. I'm one of them. A pretty, mild-looking girl who can't be more than about twenty shakes her head sadly when my price tag rises above $6,000. Despite my desire for cock, I'd quite liked the look of her. The quiet ones are always the strictest mistresses. I love being objectified like this, I love the fact that I am property. I, who hire and fire and have all the power and money my profession affords me, am suddenly helpless. Leroy is also taking bids from someone else I can't see, so I don't know if the bidder is male or female, young or old. I part my legs farther, my micro-miniskirt showing just a hint of glistening pussy, and my price tag doubles to $13,000, the highest price of the evening so far.

"Do I hear $14,000?" asks Leroy to the mystery bidder lurking in the audience. "Lot six, going for $14,000. At $14,000, lot six. Going, going, gone." He bangs his gavel down on the podium with such force that it sounds like the crack of a whip. I stare as hard as I can into the blackness, straining my eyes until they water, eager to meet my master or mistress, but no one is forthcoming. I look to Leroy.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he says, addressing the spectators. "I'm afraid I've bent the rules a little, but this is for our favorite charity and I hope that you will forgive me. I was the mystery bidder. I'm afraid I couldn't resist a few hours bossing this little slut around. Any objections?"

It's a good-natured crowd, and perhaps because of the charity angle no one has a problem with Leroy's blatant abuse of power. As people drift around the club to watch the new slaves and masters get acquainted, I'm left onstage with Leroy, and the knowledge that he's just paid fourteen grand to own my body. The closer he gets, the bigger and stronger he seems. I avert my eyes. I know the rules: I can't speak until he talks to me. I'm so keen to submit to his will that my whole body has turned to a hot liquid. I'm his. He owns me for the next four hours. What will he do to me? The thrill of knowing I have no control over what happens to me for the rest of the night is the purest exhilaration I have ever felt.

Now that it's just the two of us, Leroy's normally soft voice has acquired a hard edge. He pulls me over to him by the chains that bind my wrists and ankles, and snarls into my ear. "Okay, this is how it is," he says. "I own you now. So I control your pleasure. I can do whatever I want to you, but you are not allowed to take any gratification from my acts or to come until I give my permission. You may not deny any request of mine. And you may not speak unless I say so or ask a direct question. Is that clear?"

I bite my lip and nod, trying to control my breathing. The good thing about my eyes being downcast is that I can focus on Leroy's crotch. I wonder if it's as lean and mean as the rest of him. What will he do with it? Where will he fuck me? My mouth? My ass? My pussy? All three are crying out for a harsh pounding from a merciless cock.

"Good," he says as I nod. "Because I've paid good money for you. I hope you won't disappoint me."

"No, Master," I say, and then gasp sharply as he delivers a slap to one of my tits. I watch as pink fingerprints appear on the tender pale flesh around my nipples. As the rush of his touch subsides, the other nipple begins to engorge and darken, eager to receive a similar punishment, but he will not satisfy my longing.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" he snarls. I shake my head, and he marches me over to a corner of the room where there is a three-walled cage with various hooks and chains hanging from its bars. Leroy tugs the chains that still hang from the handcuffs on my ankles and wrists and attaches them to four little hooks so that I'm splayed like a starfish. My legs are as far apart as they can possibly go, and it's uncomfortable from the moment I assume the position. I wonder how much more discomfort I can take. My arms are yanked half out of their sockets, causing my breasts to rise so that my nipples are tightly constricted. They now bulge out through the holes in my bra. My skirt rides up around my waist so that my pussy is out there for the world to see.

"Are you comfortable?" asks Leroy, his face deadly serious. I've been here before. Trick questions. Say no, that's what they want to hear, and they'll neglect me for the rest of the night, deny me the more extreme pleasure I crave. Say yes, and he'll get vicious, crank it up to a level that's beyond even my depraved desires. Ah, what the fuck. I can handle it. Bring it on.