Dancing Competition

The late summer evening was warm and the drapes had been drawn back from the grand terrace windows of Dolcett House.  Open to the twilight lit secluded garden beyond, the scene presented a lovely background for the Friday night’s event.

Several House Slaves were already working hard to prepare the elegant setting for the Dance Competition.  At least a dozen members were expected to make entries and plenty of wine, snacks and other goodies were being laid on.

In the garden the roasting pit was been stoked, the fire lit and the butchery table prepared.  Some of the girl slaves worked on this with trembling fear, while others were brisk in passing around that activity, their erect nipples and glistening moist sexes indicating their own interest in all the preparations, perhaps their turn tonight, please?

Only two girls were immune to all the fear and arousal, they were the tall, muscular lifters used for carrying the loads to the roasting pits, and belonged to the Master’s Private breeding collection.

Sunset and the guests began to arrive, they were not the ones participating in the Dancing Competition, just spectators readying themselves for the arrival of the participants.  As with all Dolcett Club events each master or mistress brought one or two slave, guaranteeing that female livestock outnumbered male, and ensuring a plentiful supply of spare meat if the need and desire arose.  In some case these events also turned into trading auctions where owners exchanged their livestock for fresh meat.  This night the Club itself also had three new dolcett girls on offer for sale or slaughter.

……………..

Finally, everything was ready as the first of the competitors arrived, Masters leading their slavegirls, wives, girlfriends, livestock, even a couple of daughters, into the room.

With each arrival the owners paraded their girl around the room, allowing all the Superiors present to pet and tug at the inferior girl’s body.

All the girls were dressed for the evening out, but that soon changed as each Owner or their friends, or anyone they wanted to have the privilege, took time to strip the girl bare, playing with the slave’s flesh, toying, teasing and tweaking the tender tormented toys.

One by one the girls were taken around the room, presented, stripped and then made available to all who wanted their use.  Tables, racks and a variety of other furniture allowed a diversity of positions to pose and torment any of the girls until the Superiors had enjoyed themselves.

This was only the warm-up for the Dancing Competition.  By the time everything was ready at midnight the girls had all been fucked, whipped and tormented in an imaginatively wide range of ways and were staggering under the strain of trying to stand upright as they were told to assemble at the end of the room.

Everyone knew about the unique Dolcett Dancing Competitions.  Owners were invited to offer up their property to participate, either for the challenge, to dispose of a girl or to demonstrate her value for future trading.

The Competition was a simple and straightforward event.  Any number of girls were to be hung by the neck, their hands free to grip the rope above the noose, and to hang there until the last girl was too exhausted to keep her neck free from the bite of the rope.

Strong girls could easily hold themselves for many minutes, weak ones would soon fail and hang, strangling slowly on the biting rope, hoping only that they survive long enough to be alive when the strongest gave in.

Unfortunately most Dolcett Dancing Competitions has a mix of strong and weak girls, and the dead ones were destined for the roasting pit outside.

Tonight there were eleven girls lined up under the nooses in full view of the audience and the live video broadcast cameras to all the members who couldn’t be present for the Competition.

……………..

Mona was the nineteen year old daughter of Doctor Preston the oldest of the doctor’s eighteen daughters by his two wives and the first of them to have been brought to the Club.

Mona was nervous about the event but her birth mother, Anne, had reassured her that all would be well as they both dressed for the Special Dance Night.  Although a bright and perceptive girl Mona didn’t pick up any clues as she and mum agreed to wear matching long backless haltered evening dresses in red silk.

“Don’t worry about underwear,” her mother assured her, “no one will notice.”  Mona shrugged and accepted mom at her word, after all she and dad and Kim, dad’s other wife, had spent many weekends at this Club and were often seen by Mona and the rest of the girls returning home laughing and happy from so many long weekends.

Although Mona knew nothing about the Club she had heard a few stories, about wild dancing, weekends of huge and glorious banquets and so much else that she was thrilled to be invited to join. Dad was certainly reassuring, saying she’d make a real impression on everyone there and was certain to become a valuable member of the Club once here name was entered, and that was why she was happy to sign the membership and guest form her mum gave her to complete.

On arrival Mona was at first excited, then curious and then startled by the reception awaiting them.  With her mum on one are and Mona on the other Doctor Preston made an impressive entrance.

It was at that moment that Mona realized that this private Club was unlike any other, for in front of her other gentlemen guests were actually undressing their own escourts, their wives, or girlfriends or someone!  Mona couldn’t keep her eyes from staring as she stood in the doorway and watched as women were being guided, laughing and eagerly, around the room.  Some women were already undressed, and she saw, totally undressed, and there was lots of, sex, happening around the room.

Turning quickly to here mum Mona saw she was leaning past her father’s broad chest to wink at her.

“There’s a first time for everything dear,” her mum said, “at least this time I’ll be with you all the way.”  She took Mona’s arm, pulling her close and, leaving the Doctor standing and grinning at the two girls, led Mona through the crowded, heated, and very lively room.

At first Mona wasn’t sure what to do, allowing her mum to lead her and tell her all about it.

“You know the Club is for the Best People in Town?”  Mona just nodded.  “Well it’s also for teaching us women our true place in life.”

“Huh!?”  Mona looked away from the way a girl only a couple of years older than herself was being fucked front and read by two elderly men, and looked like she was enjoying it.  “I don’t understand?”

Her mum hugged her, her warmth coming through as their flesh squeezed close together.  “Honey, you know the facts of life by now, we’re breeders, our whole purpose in life is to serve and be served up to men, like your father, the best men in Town deserve all the best females so each generation is better than the last, and those who don’t make the grade don’t deserve to reproduce!”

Mona looked around the room as they continued moving through it, all the girls being put to use. “And this?”  She asked.

Her mum chuckled.  “Honey, this is our purpose in life – to please men!”

Mona looked around at the wild party of drinking and sex on display until her mum halted.

“Here we are honey, come on!”  They’d reached a small stage in the centre of the large room they’d now circled.  Taking Mona’s hand her mother led her up the steps onto the circular platform.

Mona’s hear raced as she mounted the steps. skipping beats as her smiling mother led her up to the platform and slowly turned her full circle so that everyone in the room could take in the view of both, red dressed females on display.

“Masters!”  Mona’s mother spoke up loudly and proudly, startled Mona could see how erect her mother’s nipples were under the thin silk, until she realized her own were almost as large and proud, she blushed as her mum spoke. “I present my eldest daughter for your pleasure!”  Her mum stood behind her and took her shoulders, whispering, “head up Mona,” Mona complying, “shoulders back”, Mona obeying, “good girl!”  Mona smiled within.

“Here,” her mum continued, “is one of the finest young pieces of property you’ll find tonight.”  Her soft, gentle hands glided down Mona’s back back.  “Let me show you.” A flick of the hand and Mona’s dress was unzipped.  Before Mona could react, such was her daze at the events and her position on the platform, her mother had unhooked the halter and tugged the dress down, with a gasp from Mona, overwhelmed by a cheer from the assembled men and women, she found herself nude in front of the crowd.

“Shoes off!” Her mother’s voice was firm but had the deep throaty warmth that gave her comfort, making Mona respond without a thought.  Another cheer arose as the crowd saw Mona’s compliance.  It was both comforting and worse to know that her mum was holding her arms down by her side.  Her mum was here, safely with her, but preventing her from protecting herself, her exposure, from all the keen observant eyes inspecting every angle.

“Hold still Mona!” Her mum whispered, then, in a louder voice to the crowd.  “Here she is in all her young glory!”  Crack!  Her hand came down hard on Mona’s behind.  “A firm ass, with plenty of meat and virtually no fat!”  Her hand swept around the front.  Slap!  “A firm young belly, untouched by breeding, but good stock!”  She laughed, and many in the crowd joined in.

Her hand came up and cupped one breast.  “See how her nipples salute you all!”  More laughter.  And her hand grazed over Mona’s heart as her mum spoke more softly, leering at the crowd, “and she’s so eager for use.”  Her hand dropped quickly, into Mona’s crotch and stroked her vagina.  “And here Masters, the proof, if you ever need any, moist, warm and ready to cook!” More laughter, of a particularly different kind that Mona couldn’t understand, not that she was really listening too intently.

“Masters, here is my daughter, whom I offer to you for your pleasure.  She may become your slavegirl, breeder, pet, property or whatever fate you choose – my daughter, Mona!”

The crowd cheered loudly while Mona’s mind spun in turmoil.  What had her mum said, slavegirl, breeder, what?  But she was only nineteen, this was only a Dance night, wasn’t it?

“Mum?”  She turned.

“Shush now Mona,”  her mum placed a gentle finger on her daughters lips.  “Here, help me, she turned her back to Mona, “unzip me.”  Mona hesitated, her mum smiled over her shoulder, “you don’t think I’d let you go on your first Dance alone did you, quickly, our Masters don’t like to be kept waiting!”

Fumbling with here mother’s zip Mona took a quick look at the crowd, already there were several men lining up by the steps with proud erections, and a couple of other women waiting their turn on the platform.

A cheer went up as Anne’s dress fell and she kicked it away with her shoes to join the pile of discarded clothing by the platform.  Taking her daughter’s hand she led the way back to the steps.

“Come on bitch, that’s all we are now until after the dance, just men’s bitches, let’s go see what your father’s arranged.”

Quickly, brushing through the crown with brief, bowed shakes of the head, Anne led Mona back towards the door, where they met their father the good Doctor Preston.

This was another startling surprise for Mona, not only was her father as nude as she and her mother, but he was proudly erect, and held a lovely naked young woman in one arm.

The moment she arrived before her husband and Owner Anne kneeled tugging Mona down beside her. “Down here bitch!”  She said. “Our Master commands us.”

Uncertainly and queasily Mona knelt, her face now only inches away from the proud masculinity of her father.  What a startling, fearful, yet somehow exciting change was overcoming her, here she was kneeling nude, and aroused in front of her naked father and next to her mother, whose nature as a slave was only now being revealed, and somehow, in some way she couldn’t quite understand, it was all okay.  She loved her daddy.

“Good girls!”  Her father leaned forward to caress first her mother, then herself.  “I’m very proud of two such fine bitches, a good sign for all the other girl bitches at home who’ll eventually come to share your destiny.”  His cock throbbed.  “Now Anne, show this young bitch how to serve a Master.”

“Yes Master!”  Anne grinned and opened her mouth to take one side of her husband’s cock, her arm tugging Mona so close there was no way she couldn’t misunderstand.  With only the briefest hesitation Mona opened her mouth and, lightly, then with full vigour, began kissing and caressing the other side of her father’s cock with her lips and tongue.

“Slowly,” her mum encouraged her between licks and kisses, “not like a silly porn star, you’re a Master’s bitch and you serve his pleasure, give all you have to him, your love, your care, your flesh.”  Munch, munch, lick, lick.  “It’s not just a quick fuck, this is the only life you’ll ever live, bitch.”

“Yes mummy.”

Under her lips Mona felt her daddy’s pulsations increase, her eyes seeking her mum’s for guidance. Her mum winked back at her dipping her head down to suckle her Master’s balls.  Mona followed suit, even daring to lick deep below his crotch and the top of his thigh.

“Hmmmm,” he hummed, “this young bitch is a natural.”

Mona felt a thrill tremble warmly through her at the compliment.

“It’s time to drink me, bitch!”  Mona felt her father’s hand on her head pushing her back, then around.  She glanced at her mum, who was grinning and nodding at the tip of her father’s cock.  Mona instinctively knew what to do, her mouth opening wide as her father entered her deeply.

Her lips closed firmly around her father’s cock while her throat opened in natural reflex, the back of her tongue and throat acting to squeeze and pleasure her father’s manhood as he began thrusting himself deep into her, pressing her face hard against his body.

Although she wanted to reach her hands up to help and defend herself, she was prevented as her mother pulled her wrists back, leaning forward to whisper encouragement.

“Bitches are just meat for men’s pleasure not our own, we serve them, we obey them, we are nothing without them.  Our life is their’s not ours, we accept our life from Him, we give our life to Him, we are bitches, we are fuckmeat, nothing else matters.”

In her heart and mind Mona nodded agreement as her father’s cock pulsed stronger, she relaxed her arms, feeling her mother’s grip lessen.

“Good bitch.”  Her mother said, as her father exploded within Mona’s throat and she drank all he gave her, his gift, her duty.  She knew then that she really was a good bitch.

A good girl?  Mona thought, the idea sent a thrill through her as she swallowed everything her daddy spent into her deep eager throat.  Her mother hugged her close.

“Good bitch, that’s right,” she encouraged Mona, “keep your throat open and wait until your Master is finished with your. Suck him dry and clean, he doesn’t want to see a single drop.” Her hand brushed Mona’s crotch, looking up as her husband.  “Master this bitch is so hot and wet!”

Mona’s father gently caressed her head.  “Good bitch, keep it in until it’s hard again.”

Faithful and obedient Mona used her mouth to caress and massage her daddy’s cock, probing, exploring  while she breathed in the scent of his Superior masculinity through her nose.

Keeping her arms down behind her back she focused on her task, while her mother stroked, teased and pleasured her body and spoke guidance and encouragement in her ear.

“You’re a good little bitch Mona, you’ll be the best in the show when we dance for our Masters.”  Mona felt herself dripping down her leg, then her mother stroked the wetness away, licking her fingers clean of Mona’s juices.  “You’re so delicious Mona, you don’t know how proud I am that you’ve become such a good bitch so quickly.”  Mona trembled with delight and worked harder on her daddy’s cock.

It wasn’t long before her daddy was proudly penetrating her throat again, only this time he pulled out as soon as he reached fullness.

“Let’s prepare the bitch for the Dance.”  He said looking down with loving eyes.  “You’ll be a fine Dancer, but you need to be cleaned up for everyone to enjoy.”

……………..

A hand under her chin Doctor Preston raised Mona to her feet, the other bitch, Anne, rising by her side.  The other girl, who’d hung on her daddy’s arm all this time, gazed silently at Mona as her mum took her arm and led Mona along the side of the room to a small table.  Daddy and the girl followed, arriving as her mum positioned Mona down on her back.

It was a small table, only enough to support her shoulders to hips.  The reason became obvious as her daddy stood at one end and gentle spread Mona’s legs wide.

“A fine young bush, but it has to go.”  His hand stroked across her cunt.

Meanwhile her mum stood at Mona’s head, her hands resting on Mona’s shoulders, clearly telling Mona to lie back and accept daddy’s attentions.

A jolt sent an electric thrill through her as her daddy pinched Mona’s clit.  “You’ll never wear a bush again to hide your pretty meat.”  Mona’s heart raced with the thought, to be bare and to be, liked!  Her meat, her cunt meat, she thought, what an unusually way to describe it.  But her thoughts taken away at her father’s next instruction.

“Lie back and lick hard,” her mum was already pressing Mona’s head back and stepping forward to push her cunt onto Mona’s lips.  “You won’t stop licking until I tell you.”

Yes daddy, Mona thought, her tongue lashing out to caress her mum’s warm moist flesh.

While this began the other girl had been playing with Mona’s breasts and stroking her belly.  Now she held one of Mona’s hands up against her own smooth cunt, another warm and moist receptacle.  Taking Mona’s hand and fingers the girl used them inside and around her cunt, educating Mona in the pleasure of fingering a cunt.

The electric buzz of a shaver hummed and rubbed against Mona’s own cunt, sending waves of pleasure through her. She arched her back at the thrill and stretched her legs wider, pushing herself onto her daddy’s pressure.

“Soon enough cunt!”  Her daddy laughed, slapping a hand down on the exposed sex.

Mona couldn’t reply to anything her daddy was doing to her, her mum’s own cunt was nearly choking her with the pressure grinding down on her mouth. She could feel her daddy stop his work and caress her newly exposed folds of flesh.

“Now,” Mona heard him say, “let’s crack this virgin open.”  Before she could realise what he meant Mona felt her daddy pressing himself close, the weight and heat of his body and the hard, deep penetration of his long cock was tearing into her sending her bucking wildly into orgasm.  As she came Mona felt the firm grip of the other girl reassuring her and clutching her hand on the girl’s own cunt, and the added grip of her mums thighs on her head.

Mona was a piece of sex meat, giving and receiving pleasure with no thought of her own, meat to be taken and used, and to thrill at every sensation.  She bucked, gasped and stretched as every pleasure and pressure felt throughout her body from end to end, even her toes curling in the air at her reaction.

Mona felt her daddy’s hands holding her waist as he spoke again.  “Lisa, you switch with Ann.”

Lisa, Mona thought as she gasped for air as her mum’s withdrawal, so that’s the girl’s name?  It was so, as the other two bitches switched places.

Her daddy hadn’t withdrawn as the girl, Lisa, laid her cunt on Mona’s mouth.  Mona began licking immediately as the girl bent down, pressed firmly by her daddy, onto Mona’s own clit.

With her daddy inside and Lisa working on the outside, with Mona’s own mouth working Lisa and her mum using one of Mona’s free hands for further pleasure the four of them formed a single living feast of flesh, and Mona was the perfect, eager and vigorous centrepiece.

It was another twenty minutes before Mona was released.  Lisa had taken and give her pleasures, her daddy had remained a constant pressure within and her mum had held her close, and when Mona was lifted upright from the table there was a circle of men and women grinning at her widely exposed legs and glazed eyes.

She tried to close her legs but her daddy stopped her.  “No bitch, let them inspect you, they’ll be using you in the future so you never conceal yourself from their eyes.”

Mona nodded.  “Yes daddy.”

Her daddy turned to her mum.  “It’s time for the dance, you take her up on the stage.”

“Yes Master.”

……………..

Mona’s mum took her hand and led her through the crowd that was slowly moving towards one end of the room.  As they walked Mona felt hands touching, pinching and squeezing up her body.  As she’d learnt, she didn’t react, she was a piece of fuckmeat.

What was the dance?  She thought.  Mona knew she could dance well, she’d enjoyed a few nights out with friends at local clubs, but she suspected that this would be a different kind of dance, something sexier, something only for women?

They’d arrived at the end of the room and the steps leading up to an unusual stage, where other women and girls were already standing and waiting.  And each woman was standing under a hangman’s noose, and they were all in shackles.

Mona gasped.  “Mum?”  She queried, but her mum was already tugging her arm to lead her up the steps.  Her heart raced fast as each step took her above the heads of the crowd, and she felt more exposed than she’d ever been that night.

“Mum?”  She asked again, as another woman took her mum’s wrists and clapped the shackles on them.

“Honey,” her mum smiled at her, as the woman took Mona’s own unresisting wrists and clipped the steel on them.   “This is how we dance for our owners.”  she stepped towards the line of nooses.  “Come on, I’ll stand beside you this time.”

“But, I don’t understand?”  Mona felt the woman push her from behind to follow her mum to the front of the stage.  She felt a creak of the stage under her feet.  Trapdoors she thought, looking closely, yes!

“You take this one next to me.”  Mona’s mum indicated the two nooses standing under one, its weighty rope brushing against her shoulder.

Mona complied and stood under the other still looking for an explanation and more women joined them.  Her mum explained.

“We’re the best of the best meat and every few months the Club organise this dance to test us.  We’ve all got to dance for our owners to show how healthy we are and the winners get to be rewarded with babies, or to be sold to other Masters.”

“Dance, but how,” Mona’s thoughts raced, her heart racing faster, and strangely, her excitement flowed through her, “winners!?”

Her mum smiled.  “Of course, you don’t think I survived this long without being prime meat do you? We all dance and the longer you dance the fitter you are.  It really is survival of the fittest.”

“Dance, but how?”

Her mum raised her hands up.  “You grip the rope and hang on for as long as you can, the longer you stay up the better, the dance stops when the last girl drops.”

“But what happens if I can’t hold on?”

Her mum smiled at her.  “I know you can do it, you’re a healthy young girl, and your my daughter.”

“But, yes, but what  if I can’t?”

“Then you drop honey, and if you can’t last long enough for the last girl to drop you’ll die.”

“Die!”  Mona was so shocked by that thought that she didn’t notice the stage woman behind her dropping the noose around her neck and tightening it around her throat.  A few more adjustments and she felt the rope raised until all the slack had been taken up.

“Of course honey,” her mum smiled, “it is survival of the fittest and the rest die.  That’s how we make a better world for our Masters.  We,” she said proudly, as the noose was adjusted around her neck, “are the best breeding stock in the world.”

Mona was dizzy with it all, she couldn’t take it in.

“Don’t worry so much,” her mum reassured her, “I’ve seen you at gym class and dancing around the house, you’ll do just fine, and afterwards we can enjoy the banquet.”

“Banquet?”   Mona couldn’t believe her mum was so casual about this and more interested in eating.

“Oh yes,” her mum nodded, “all the girls who loose and die become the feast, after all we are fuck meat.”  She smiled with the wonderful, confident radiance Mona had known all her life.  “Now get a grip.”  She raised her hands to grip the rope over her head.

Mona did the same, not really certain they’d really go through with it, no, they couldn’t, it’s just a stunt, but the stage woman was now announcing the dance to the audience and Mona couldn’t take her eyes off the audience or keep her mind off the very, very conscious thought that she was now standing nude with her arms raised and totally exposed in front of so many men and women, with her mum standing right next to her and her daddy standing at her feet looking up at both of them with pride, and a huge erection.

“Let the dance begin,” the stage woman announced, “now!”  And the floor dropped from Mona’s feet.

……………..

Mona had just enough time to react and grip the rope tightly before the wooden stage, all the trapdoors, dropped away.

Suddenly she was flailing in the air, her feet kicking around for any kind of support as her hands gripped the rope tightly over her head.

It was difficult to make the grip, the shackles on her wrists and the position of the rope behind her head made it difficult to reach, causing her to arch her back and stretch as far as possible.

That was when she realised what an exposed position she was in.  Her body was stretched taut, breasts raised, cunt thrust out, back arched and her legs flailing wide open – there was nothing concealing or modest about her full, exposed nakedness, and, she guessed, nakedness of all the other women on the stage.

The rope was still tight around her throat but she felt her first grip slipping as her arms began to feel the strain.

Looking down briefly she could see her daddy grinning up proudly at her, his eyes roaming up and down her full length, while one hand gripped and pressed Lisa’s head, as she was now kneeling, down on his cock.  Somehow that made it intensely arousing and she felt the warmth of her sex flowing through her and her juices trickle down her leg.

She tried to look around at her mum, but her arms obstructed her view, only the audience, their cheers, their intense attention.  Inspecting me, she realised, they’re weighing me up!

She was strangely calm, distracted by her discovery to think about the rope for a moment.  The only thought was the sight of the men pointing her out, commenting on her, exchanging words. A couple of men were talking to her father as his cock thrust into Lisa’s throat, he was nodding at their words.  I wonder what they’re saying, Mona thought?

……………..

Her fingers were weakening as she heard a cheer in the crowd further along the stage.  A girl must have dropped she thought.  That’s good, maybe I am stronger, maybe I will survive.  But to be meat?  Somehow it sent a tremble through her body, her fingers slipped, already weakened with the strain of gripping the rope the though had distracted her.

She tried to grip tighter but she had little strength left.  To be meat?  Was that a tremble of terror, or, she couldn’t believe herself, a thrill?  She felt her pussy relaxing, yearning, exposed, thrust out, waving its temptation to all the men in the audience – come, look see the pretty young wet cunt ready for you boys, come for a taste!

The pain in her hands and arms, the fire of the strain was becoming too much.  Another cheer in the audience, another girl had dropped.  Mona’s breath came with difficulty, gasping for air, the rope tight on her throat, the burn of gripping it becoming a fire she couldn’t tolerate anymore.  But she did, another minute, more seconds ticking by, her body exposed, aroused to the height of tension and readiness she’d never felt, an excitement she’d never imagined before in her life.

The fire in her loins competed with that in her arms, she ached to be fucked, to have that need met, it distracted her, helped keep her mind off the fire in her arms, but even that wasn’t enough, as her fingers became weaker and weaker.

The weight of her body tore at her arms, her hands, her fingers. She tried to improve her grip, but mistake, she slipped!  Her arms fell, her body dropped a few inches, the rope tightened around her throat, she felt the grip of the rope on her as she flailed harder to reach up and regain the rope while the crowd cheered.

She couldn’t reach it, the drop had taken it beyond her weakened arms!  She struggled to reach higher, arching her back, her legs flailing wildly to the crowd’s encouragement.  She tried thrusting up but the weight and jolts of her body on the rope was tightening its grip on her throat as she tried to grasp for air and found she couldn’t!

A red mist was overcoming her, her breath failing, her heart pounding, the noise of the crowd, the tightening of the rope, everything began to spin around and around.

She made one last weakened attempt to reach the rope above her head, one final futile jerk and she failed as unconsciousness swept here away.

……………..

“Wake up bitch!”  The voice commanded with a sting as smelling salts jerked her awake.

Mona found herself lying on the stage, her wrists still shackled, the noose being pulled unceremoniously off her head as two naked women helped her, coughing and choking, to her feet.

In a daze she looked around, taking in the scene, noticing two girls being carried off the far end of the stage a gap in the crowd for their passage.

“Mum!?”  She looked aside, and grinned.  Her mum was being treated the same way as her, salts and a jerk as she snapped awake, her eyes turning to meet Mona’s with a grin on her lips.

“Wonderful!  I knew you’d survive!”  She turned to look at the far end of the stage.  “How many?”  She asked one of the slaves helping her up.

“Two for tonight, after the auctions.”  The girl answered briskly, then moved on to help the next girl.

“Auctions!”  Anne was surprised. Looking first down at her husband below her then turning to Mona.  “We’re all to be auctioned!”

“What does that mean?”  After the last experience Mona was filled with dread, what could it mean?  She looked for guidance to her mum, then turned to her father, who had an arm around Lisa, stroking the girl’s titties.  But her father was ignoring the stage, talking instead to the two men Mona had seen earlier, one glanced up at her, looking her up and down, weighing her up.

“It means,” her mum answered, “that we’re all going to be sold off.”

“Sold!?  But, daddy?”

Anne stepped closer to Mona, taking her hands in her own shackled ones.  “Mona honey, he’s not your daddy any more, he’s your owner and you’re his property, just like me.  A Master has every right to dispose of his property in any way he desires, if he wants to sell us tonight then that’s his right.”

“Sell us, but what will happen?”

“Shush, you’ll see, we’ve all danced and survived – oh, here come our numbers.” Her mum indicated the two Club slavegirls working along the line of girls.  Mona couldn’t be sure what was happening, so briskly did they arrive at her Mum.

Taking Anne’s left titty one slave tugged the nipple out hard with one hand and stabbed a needle through it with the other.  The needle ended in a small rosette with a large number “8″ on it.  Anne yelped once as the needle penetrated then stepped back for the two slaves to seize Mona.

“Yow!”  She yelped as Number “9″ was pinned on to her left titty. “That hurts!”

“So?”  The slave shrugged and moved on to the next girl.

Mona turned to her mum appeal in her eyes, and noticed the grin on her mum’s lips.

“What is it?”

“You honey, it hurt didn’t it?”

“Yes!”

“Well according to your nips it looks like you loved it!”  Her mum nodded at Mona’s chest.

Mona looked down, it was true, the pain was, well, hurting, but, combined with everything else that had happened to her, her nudity, her hanging, her first fucking, all the time she’d spent on stage, the pain and the way she was, just manhandled by the two slaves, was, somehow, thrilling.    Her mind was in a state she’d never experienced, heightened even more by the presence of her mum standing equally abused in front of her.

Crack!  A whip lashed the line of girls on stage.

“Right bitches, line up and face your future Owners!” One of the Club slaves cracked the whip on a slower girl, who yelped and jumped into position.  Mona hadn’t needed it, she just followed her mum’s lead.

Auctioned, she thought, looking curiously at the crowd in front of her, looking up at her body, assessing her, for what?

“Number One,” the Stage slave announced.  “Aged twenty-nine, seven children off two pregnancies, all healthy, athletic body profile, never lost a Dance Competition, no medical conditions, IQ measured at one ninety, owner selling due to business failure.  No House reserve.  What am I bid?”

And so it began, one at a time the girls were called out, no longer named, but numbered, no longer people, but property. One girl, number six, collapsed in tears to be hauled off stage when she realized she’d been donated to the Club feast by a wealthy member of the Club.

“Number Eight,” her mum!  Mona’s attention jerked up.  “Aged forty-two, nine children from single pregnancies, all healthy, average healthy body, above average Dance Competitor, no medical conditions, IQ measured average, owner selling to make way for younger breeder.  There’s a House reserve of one thousand.  What am I bid?”

Mona had learnt that the House reserve meant the Club itself would bid for the property to compensate owners on girls likely to fetch lower prices. It also meant that every girl was guaranteed to be sold – they would never be returning to their owners. And no reserve meant that a girl was thought good enough she didn’t need that final guarantee of sale.

The bids began to come in, first one hand raised, a man, another, then a woman, a Mistress of Slaves her mum told Mona, another bid.  Already the bids had gone over a thousand, then two, then three, five, seven.

“Sold!”  Bang!  The hammer came down on the final bid the Mistress of Slave.

“Bye honey!” Her mum called as she was lead away, a collar snapped around her neck and down the steps.

“Number Nine!”  Mona’s number was called out and her heart leapt.