Chapter One: Sheriff's Sale

 

The girl was nearly nude. She was not totally nude, as she wore a combination leather gag and hood that covered her head and eyes, and wrapped tightly enough under her chin to prevent her opening her mouth by so much as an inch. There was a hole in the back of the hood through which her blonde ponytail had been drawn. She also wore a single glove on both arms. Other than this, however, she was utterly exposed.

She was also quite helpless. The single glove confining her arms stretched all the way from her fingertips to her shoulders. The glove was laced tightly enough to force her elbows together, then pulled up behind her back above head height by a rope, obliging her to bend sharply forward at the waist by the pressure on her shoulders. It must have been a very painful position.

The blonde twisted her head from side to side anxiously, as if trying to see what or who was behind her, although the hood allowed her to see nothing. She was bewildered and terrified. Rupert Caine, the girl's new owner, watched her futile struggles silently, admiring the way his new slave's nipples stiffened in the cool air of his dungeon.

The body she displayed was very attractive. Her short, stocky form featured plump, full breasts with wide brown areoles surrounding thick nipples, wide hips, well-fleshed thighs, firm bottom globes and a pubic delta with an ample covering of curling golden hairs. It was the body of a pretty, young country girl, not that of a movie star or high-priced courtesan perhaps, but still both sexy and desirable.

Caine had acquired the girl almost by accident. He had been returning to his estate from a trip to the local village, when he saw a sign advertising a Sheriff's sale to be held that very afternoon at a house only three miles away. Caine was the wealthiest man in the entire state, one of the wealthiest in the entire Western Provinces in fact, so he could afford to buy anything he wanted at full retail price, but he still loved a bargain.

He whipped his ponies, a lovely matched pair of young female slaves named Karin and Natalie, into a trot and drove his cart to the farmhouse where the auction was being held. He picked up a copy of the information sheet from a table by the front door and read through it quickly. It was a familiar story. The farm had been purchased with a bank loan by a young man and his new wife. As the couple had no other collateral to put up, they had pledged their own bodies as security, signing contracts of indenture. There followed a drought and a crop failure, and less than a year after they had taken the mortgage, they were in default.

Now, their pitiful belongings, cheap furniture, livestock and their own persons were being auctioned off by the Sheriff at the bank's behest. Caine had arrived at the right moment: the husband, a sturdy brown-haired lad of twenty was being offered just as he entered the main room of the farmhouse where the auction was taking place. He was sold to a local farmer who was more fortunate than he and needed a strong field hand. The boy was led away in chains.

The next item was the wife. She was a lass of nineteen named Lorna, the daughter of a local storekeeper. Caine remembered seeing Lorna around the village while she was growing up. She had been a pretty, lively little girl, and she had grown into a pretty, vivacious young woman. Her father was present, evidently hoping to buy her and rescue her from slavery. When the Sheriff stripped Lorna to display her for the buyers, her father opened the bidding with the minimum bid of 250 crowns.

Caine impulsively decided to purchase the girl. It really didn't make any sense. Lorna was a cute little package, but she did not compare with the beautiful slaves he already owned, like the pair of ponies outside who pulled his cart. He also knew that his junior partner, Quentin Scales, would soon be returning from his annual buying trip with new girls for him to break to service, girls who would almost certainly be more beautiful and sensitive than this simple country lass. Still, he found himself raising his hand and offering a bid of 500 crowns almost before he thought about why.

Lorna's father paled. He whispered something to the gray-haired woman standing beside him who Caine supposed was his wife. She whispered back, pointing at Caine and gesturing urgently. Her husband shook his head in response.

The Sheriff made a last call on the lot. "We have a bid of 500 crowns from Squire Caine, 500. Do I hear 510?" He directed this question to Lorna's father, the storekeeper. His naked daughter stared at him in a mute appeal.

The storekeeper looked back at the girl, then at the Sheriff. He shook his head, and dropped his eyes to the floor in defeat. Evidently, he did not have enough money to raise the bid. Even if he had, of course, it would have been hopeless to try to compete with Caine's fortune.

"500 once, 500 twice, sold to Squire Caine for 500 crowns!" The Sheriff announced, banging his gavel down on the little lectern. The storekeeper and his wife, ashen-faced, turned and left the farmhouse. Lorna cried out "Daddy, please don't leave me!" but the couple, unable to face their daughter, did not even look back.

Caine was absurdly pleased with his purchase. He estimated that Lorna would have brought at least 5000 crowns at a big city auction house, and he had no doubt that he could easily extract far more than 500 crowns worth of pleasure from her.

He arranged for the Sheriff to deliver the girl to his estate, then returned to his cart. "I bought a new toy, a local girl," he told his two ponies. "But don't worry, she's not in your class," he said, stroking Nat and Karin on their firm buttocks. "She's just a little hors d'oeuvre to hold me until Quentin returns with the main course."

Lorna was delivered to Caine's estate that evening, as promised, and was brought to his receiving parlor escorted by a pair of his house servants. These servants were both pretty young women, dressed in form-fitting green uniforms of some skin-tight stretchy material, with cut-outs that exposed their breasts, pubic triangles and buttocks. The fronts of the blouses had built-in supports for the breasts, forcing them up and out, and their vaginas were clean shaven. All of the exposed flesh of these servants; pubic deltas, breasts, buttocks and thighs, was marked by networks of thin white lines, the residue of numerous flagellations.

Lorna was dressed in the simple armless cloak with a drawstring neck that was the traditional garb for slave auctions. As Caine had ordered, her hands were tied behind her back. She was no longer crying, having expended all her available tears, but her cheeks were marked with the dried trails the tears had left behind.

Caine stood and pulled the drawstring to open the neck of her cloak, and the garment slithered down off Lorna's shoulders to end in a pile at her feet. She wore nothing underneath. The girl shivered, blushed, closed her eyes and turned her head to the side as Caine mercilessly examined her nude form.

He slapped her hard enough to leave a red handprint on her pink cheek. Lorna staggered back, and cried out in pain and surprise.

"Don't look away from me, bitch," Caine said.

"Oh, oh, please don't hurt me sir," Lorna begged. "I'm sorry if I did something wrong."

He slapped her again twice more, hard. She would have fallen to the ground if the two servant girls had not quickly caught her under the arms to hold her up.

"My slaves do not speak without permission, cunt," Caine said. "Do you understand?"

There was a dribble of blood coming from a corner of Lorna's mouth, one cheek was beginning to swell and her eyes were glassy and unfocussed. When she nodded her head to indicate that she understood, it set off a sharp pain in her skull.

Caine slapped her again. "When I ask you a question, you will answer it, slut. Now, do you understand me?"

"Ah, ah...yes, yes...sir, I under...stand," Lorna mumbled. "Please don't hit me any more, sir. I'll be good." She pleaded.

"Get down on your knees," he ordered abruptly.

Lorna obediently sank to the ground at his feet.

Caine unbuttoned his fly and released his erect cock, which sprang out suddenly right under the girl's nose. Startled, she automatically jerked her head back. Caine grabbed a handful of her fine golden hair, and pulled her sharply back, until the head of his cock quivered a fraction of an inch away from her lips.

"You will take my cock in your mouth," he commanded. "I want you to swallow the whole thing, and if I feel one tooth, I'll have all of them pulled out."

Lorna stared at the bobbing ten-inch stalk of meat as if it was a cobra.

"Please sir, I've never done...done anything like that," she said. She looked up at him, her pale blue eyes wide. "I don't know how ..." she trailed off. "Please don't make me do this."

Caine made an abrupt gesture, and the servant girls moved in on either side, seizing Lorna under the arms, and pulling her roughly to her feet. Caine beckoned to one of the servants.

"Take her to Room One," he said. He gave the servant his instructions in a few sentences, after which the two liveried servants hauled Lorna to the basement room where she was now so painfully confined. Almost before she knew what was happening, the two women had drawn a hood over her head, rendering her blind and mute, laced on the single glove and raised her arms up, leaving her in her current painful and defenseless condition. Since then, all she could do was wait for whatever her new owner planned for her.

"So, it seems that you prefer defiance to obedience," Caine said, his voice coming from very nearby. Lorna started in surprise, as she had not heard him approach.

She shook her head, attempting to tell him that she had not meant to be defiant, that she would be happy to obey him. She tried to put this into words, but all that the tight chin gag would allow her to say was "Nnnnn!"

"I have ways of dealing with disobedient bitches like you," Caine continued. He held a heavy leather paddle in his hand. The paddle was an inch thick, a foot long and perforated with one-inch holes. He brought the paddle back, then swept it down to strike the pale bottom globes the unsuspecting girl unwilling presented. It landed with a meaty thwack!, printing a broad red oblong with a pattern of white circles across both pink cheeks.

Lorna jumped and screamed as loudly as she could, making a stifled, agonized "Errrr!" sound. Her bare feet drummed frantically on the concrete floor, while her buttocks shifted rapidly up and down, side to side, in a way that made Caine smile.

"No more, please!" she screamed, "I'll be good!", but all that came out was "Urrrrrr, ahh uhhh...!" and the like. She twisted her head back in the direction where she guessed he was standing, trying to communicate her willingness, her sincere desire, to obey, if only he would stop hurting her.

Caine admired Lorna's wild dance for a few seconds. Then he took her ponytail in a firm grip with his free hand, and began to beat the ass of the helpless farm girl in an unhurried, regular rhythm, lecturing her as he did so.

"In my house (whack!) ... the slaves follow my orders (whack!) ...They don't decide which ones to follow (whack!) ...they do what I tell them to do (whack!) ..." and so forth. This continued for ten strokes of the heavy paddle, by which time both of Lorna's chubby bottom globes were covered with overlapping red oblongs and pale polka-dots, and the innocent young wife was twisting like a maddened beast in her bonds, trying in vain to escape the merciless blows.

Caine paused. "Are you now more inclined to obedience, slut?" he asked.

Lorna nodded rapidly. "Ehhhhh!" she said.

"We shall see," he said. "Open up your legs for me," he instructed. When she moved her ankles apart, he reached down to spread her lower lips open, then worked his fingers into her pouch.

"Is this how you used to spread your legs for all the farm boys, whore?" he asked as he toyed with her intimately.

Lorna shook her head and moaned "Nnnnn!". She had been a virtuous girl, who had never allowed any man but her future husband to so much as touch her breasts. Being forced to display her naked body for strangers at the auction had been the most humiliating experience in her entire life, but this, this was much worse. She didn't want to let a strange man fondle her sex, but he had hurt her so. He had hurt her worse than anyone had ever done before, and she could not stand the pain any longer. Anyway, she reasoned, she was his slave, and she had to do his bidding.

Caine was an expert at arousing unwilling females, and it was not very long before his manipulations of Lorna's little love button had produced slippery juice in her slot. Caine pinched and twirled the stiff knob of her clitoris in his fingertips, and soon her hips began to sway in response.