u/honeywind22

The lights were blinding.

I stood naked on the polished wooden block, wrists cuffed high behind my back, thick leather collar locked around my throat with a heavy chain running down between my breasts to a spreader bar that forced my legs obscenely wide. A thick bit gag stretched my mouth open, drool already spilling down my chin and onto my tits. The auctioneer’s voice boomed through the speakers as the crowd of maybe fifty men and women shifted in their seats, eyes hungry.

“Lot twenty-three. Prime fuckmeat. Twenty-four years old, fully trained in obedience, deepthroat, anal, and total objectification. She’s been edged for three weeks straight—no orgasms, no mercy. Starting bid is ten thousand.”

A low murmur rippled through the room. I could feel every stare crawling over my shaved pussy, the way my nipples were already tight and aching from the cold air and the constant humiliation. My handler stepped forward with the long crop and tapped the inside of my thigh hard enough to make me jolt.

“Display,” he ordered.

I arched my back as best I could, pushing my tits out, spreading my knees even wider until the chain between my ankles rattled. The crop cracked across my ass twice—sharp, stinging reminders. I moaned around the gag, shame and heat flooding my face.

Bidding started fast.

Hands went up. Numbers climbed. Then the real fun began.

“Inspection is open,” the auctioneer announced.

They came in waves.

A tall man in a suit stepped up first. He didn’t ask. He simply grabbed my jaw, tilted my head back, and shoved two thick fingers into my mouth, fucking it slowly while I gagged and drooled. “Good throat,” he muttered, then moved behind me. I felt his palm slap my soaked cunt once, twice, then three fingers plunged in without warning. I cried out, hips bucking involuntarily. He laughed and wiped his fingers on my thigh before walking away.

Next came a woman in a tight black dress. She pinched both my nipples until I whimpered, then leaned in and whispered, “I’m going to buy you just so I can watch you cry while my husband ruins your ass.” She twisted harder, smiling when fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

More hands. More strangers. Someone shoved a thick plug into my ass while another tested how many fingers I could take in my pussy at once. A group of three men circled me, stroking their cocks openly while they discussed whether I’d look better with my tits bound purple or with a ring gag so they could all use my face at the same time. Every touch, every comment, every casual slap reminded me I wasn’t a person anymore—just merchandise.

The bidding climbed past fifty thousand.

I was shaking. My thighs were slick with my own desperate wetness. The plug in my ass made every shift of my weight push it deeper. I couldn’t stop the little broken sounds escaping around the gag.

Then the gavel came down.

“Sold! To the gentlemen in the front row—Lot twenty-three is now the property of the Blackthorn Collective.”

Four of them stood up at once. All tall, all dressed in expensive black, all wearing the same cold, predatory smile. The leader—broad-shouldered, dark hair, scar across one eyebrow—stepped onto the block like he already owned the world.

He unclipped my wrists only long enough to yank them in front of me and cuff them again, then hooked the chain to a ring on the floor so I was forced to bend forward, ass high, face inches from the polished wood.

“Time to break her in for her new owners,” he said calmly.

The crowd cheered.

They didn’t wait to get me backstage. Right there on the auction block, in front of everyone still watching, they started.

The first cock pushed into my dripping pussy without a single word. I screamed around the gag as he buried himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Another hand fisted my hair, yanking my head up so the leader could look me in the eyes while his friend fucked me like a cheap toy.

“You’re going to learn what it means to be owned by all of us,” he said quietly. “Every hole. Every day. Until the only thing left in that pretty head is ‘yes, Sir.’”

The man behind me came fast and hard, flooding me, then stepped aside so the next could take his place. They rotated like that—pussy, mouth, ass—passing me around while the crowd filmed and shouted suggestions. Someone replaced the plug with a much thicker cock, stretching my ass until I sobbed. Another forced his dick down my throat until my nose pressed against his stomach and my vision went fuzzy.

I lost count of how many times they used me.

At some point the gag came out. I was babbling—please, no, yes, more, stop, don’t stop—words slurring together as orgasms they’d denied me for weeks crashed through me without permission. Every time I came they laughed and fucked me harder.

By the time they finally unchained me, I couldn’t stand. I collapsed to my knees on the block, cum leaking down my thighs, tears and drool covering my face, body marked with handprints and welts.

The leader crouched in front of me, lifted my chin with one finger, and smiled.

“Say it.”

My voice was hoarse, wrecked, barely a whisper.

“I’m… I’m broken.”

He stroked my cheek almost gently.

“Good girl. Welcome to your new life, fucktoy.”

The crowd roared as they dragged me off the block by my collar, still naked, still dripping, headed for whatever came next.

And the worst part?

I was already aching for it.