[MF] [Slavery] [Noncon] [Spanking] [Squirting] The Auction – Part Three

[Part One](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jneelz/mf_slavery_noncon_the_auction_part_one/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) … [Part Two](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jo19n3/ff_slavery_masturbation_the_auction_part_two/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)

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***Note:*** *This will be the last Neasa chapter for a while. Judging by the number of upvotes and comments, ongoing series don’t fare as well as standalone stories. I’d like to dip my toes into stranger kinks and move beyond the dom/sub material, but Neasa will be back once my commissions die down and I get my fill of “omg” fetishes. Thanks for reading and reaching out! You guys are great.*

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It had been four days since he’d looked at her. Four days since she’d fondled herself in the parlour while her master watched, and four nights spent wondering what she’d done wrong.

Looking back now, the ordeal felt embarrassing. She had been wet and ready to take him and he’d walked away without a backward glance. Had it been something about her body? Despite Charlotte’s reassurances that their master would ask for her company again, Neasa couldn’t help worrying that she’d wasted her single chance to impress him. It had taken mere hours for him to lose interest in his newest slave.

“Should I apologize?”

Scraping the last of the butter onto a slice of toast, Charlotte looked over with a disapproving frown. “No. If there’s something to be sorry for, he’ll let you know.” She knew the master of the house better than anyone, but her advice so far had been discouraging. *Don’t speak to him. Keep your distance. He’ll call when he’s ready for your company.* When Neasa asked for his name, Charlotte had only smirked.

Now they were side-by-side in the kitchen, preparing breakfast amidst birdsong and sunbeams. It wasn’t what Neasa had been purchased for; she was supposed to be a decoration, a beautiful possession to be flaunted and adored like the nymph statues outside. She existed to entertain, not to wash dishes and wipe down kitchen counters, but trailing behind Charlotte helped pass the time. The brunette was the closest thing she had to a friend.

“He won’t take kindly to being bothered,” Charlotte reminded her. “Dress nicely and be ready for him at a second’s notice, but don’t chase after him and beg for attention. You’ll end up back at auction-”

Their discussion halted immediately at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Neasa glanced at her reflection in the window; she’d taken her friend’s advice and woken early to primp and preen in case today was the day. The dress she was wearing was a simple one that she’d borrowed from another servant, and although it hung low along the neckline, the blue fabric suited her. With ‘*be ready*’ in mind, she’d skipped putting on underwear.

Charlotte pressed a plate of food into Neasa’s right hand and a hot cup of coffee into her left. “Go on.” It was the only time that the girl was allowed to see her master and wait on him, and she flashed Charlotte a timid smile in thanks for the chore. With her stomach tied in a knot, she strode away to serve the man’s morning meal.

Their interaction was usually nonexistent. Neasa was to pad in quietly, place his breakfast in front of him, and return to the kitchen like a ghost. When she turned to leave that morning, though, he broke away from the usual routine and looked at her.

“Alex will take you to the tailor today.” It was a comfort to hear his deep voice again. “You’re to be fitted for a proper dress.”

“Yessir.”

Neasa knew what she’d done the moment it slipped over her lips. *Sir.* She froze under his gaze. In the morning light, she could see that his eyes weren’t truly black – they were a deep brown, the color of that bittersweet coffee – and he was staring her down like a wolf watching a lamb.

“Go to the parlour. Now.” Though Neasa couldn’t see the other servant, she could feel that Charlotte had gone still in the adjoining room. It was too late to take back what she’d said, but in the weak hope that she’d be afforded some mercy, Neasa hurried to show her obedience and loyalty. She bowed her head and walked away with her face calm and her hands balled into nervous fists.

Instead of following, the older man turned his attention back to the toast. Waiting for him was half the challenge; the young slave stood in the parlour and fidgeted, trying to guess what was coming next, and she grew uneasier as her imagination reached for wilder and wilder possibilities. By the time her owner strode in, casually straightening the collar of his shirt, Neasa was wired with fear.

“I-I didn’t mean to, Master, it was-”

“It doesn’t matter whether or not you *meant* to,” he replied stiffly, taking a seat in the leather armchair. “What matters is that you did it. Lift up your skirt.”

Was this how she was destined to lose her virginity? As a starry-eyed youth, Neasa had imagined a romantic coupling by candlelight with a wedding band on her finger and a handsome man pinning her down. Though being sold into bondage had dashed any hope of a true relationship, she had still expected some degree of tenderness from the man who took her.

Her new master *was* handsome, so at least that part of her fantasy matched. No one could deny his charming good looks. That grey-flecked hair swept back to frame his face, his perfect jawline, those broad shoulders… he probably had a charming white smile, too, though she’d never seen it herself. He looked exactly like the man she had imagined laying with.

But he wasn’t looking at her tenderly. This was to be a punishment, not a reward, and there certainly wouldn’t be kisses and candlelight involved.

She lifted her billowing skirt with trembling hands and exposed herself. Neasa had done as Charlotte suggested and shaved every inch of herself; she’d never been so bare before, and the cool air that her skirt stirred up gave her goosebumps.

“Now bend over my lap.”

*Over his lap?* She’d braced herself for sex, and being laid over a man’s legs wasn’t the way to do it. Neasa approached and slowly, carefully, lowered herself onto the older man’s lap. It took a moment of shifting to get into the position that he desired, which was humiliating all on its own: with the bottom of her dress pulled up around her waist, her head held low, and one of his arms fixed over her upper back to keep her still. The only silver lining was that her face was masked by a curtain of blonde hair – he wouldn’t be able to see her wincing.

She’d guessed what would happen next but the first spank was a shock nonetheless. His hand came down on her backside with unexpected force, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from whimpering. He struck her a second and a third time, flat-handed so that the slap resounded throughout the room. Neasa wondered if Charlotte heard it all the way in the kitchen.

“Master, *please!* S-stop-”

The older man was relentless and ignored her quivering pleas. He kept paddling, pausing between every stroke to ensure that she felt the tingle of pain that followed. An imprint of his hand blossomed on her dainty cheeks. Maybe it was her pink ass or the fact that she was rocking on his lap, but to Neasa’s surprise, she felt something pressing into her side. He was excited, and it was more than a half-stiff erection this time.

He gave her one final spank, and the undignified squeal she made brought it to an end.

“Say thank you.”

“Thank you,” she gulped, trembling from the numbness tingling across her buttocks. “M-master.”

“Much better.” He took a deep breath as though he were the one recovering, and when his shivering slave tried to stand, he pressed his forearm harder against her back. She was pinned like an animal. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Neasa paused. “I-I thought…” She bit her lip and silently cursed her stupidity. It wasn’t her place to decide when he was finished, and stepping out of line was the reason she’d been spanked in the first place. She was ass-up and red with embarrassment, but didn’t try to move again.

“You were a disappointment when we met.” The man drew a thumb over her ruddy ass, tracing the faint outline of his own hand on her flesh. Neasa lowered her head, ashamed. It was true, then… he’d avoided her because of the poor show she’d put on for him. Her thoughts spiralled down into self-doubt and concern for her future. What if he wanted to sell her, like Charlotte had warned? What would her next owner be like? Neasa had heard stories of pretty girls being sold to brothels and used so often that they never slept. The man underneath her was cold, certainly, but he hadn’t treated her poorly until now. The girl snapped back to attention when his warm hand moved it lower and parted her flushed cheeks. “*This* is how you do it.”

He was rougher than she’d expected him to be. Her Master’s fingers didn’t force their way inside of her, but they did everything else possible; they jiggled and jolted against her open slit and rolled over her button with brutal expertise. Neasa pushed forward with a moan, torn between wanting to escape and wanting him to press harder.

She was surprised when his flat palm clapped on her pussy – thankfully lighter than the slaps to her backside had been – and at the shock that accompanied it. He was back to grinding at her cunt before she’d even finished yelping.

He rubbed mercilessly at Neasa’s small clitoris, forcing it to throb, and the pad of one finger jostled so hard that she could feel her ass wobbling with the rhythm of it. There wasn’t enough time to catch her breath between the waves of sensation that rolled over her, one after another. The slave was sure that there was pain mixed into what she felt, but pleasure overrode it and tied into the sting of what he was doing.

The climax started deep within her and she couldn’t contain it this time. There had been an element of control with her other experiences… she could’ve brought herself back down from the ecstasy if she’d tried. But he was handling her like no one else had, and the way he pressed into her exposed flesh was impossible to fight against. When the orgasm spiked, she squirted.

He fingered her clit as the fluid pulsed down into a gentle gush, wetting his hand, and kept rubbing until the cuff of his shirt was damp with the stuff. Neasa hadn’t felt him penetrate anything, but after the way he’d worked her body, it was hard to believe her maidenhead was still intact. The pleasure kept coming and going, shuddering back to life as soon as she was sure it was over, even after his touch disappeared

She felt like crying. Stretched limp over his legs and gasping as though she’d run a marathon, she ground her hips back in a futile search for his slippery fingers. There had to be more than that… she wasn’t finished and he hadn’t even started. But his hand wasn’t there any more and the arm across her back had been lifted, a clear sign that her punishment was over. Wobbly-legged and sore and aching for more, Neasa stood up and noticed the splash of discharge streaked over the arm of the chair. Had she done that…?

The young woman looked down at her owner’s bulging erection and then back up at his face. She knew that she was a mess; there were strands of blond hair stuck to the wet streaks on her face, and her dress was half-on, half-off. But even self-controlled men had their limit, and a few stray locks of hair wouldn’t diminish that kind of hard-on.

“Master?” Her trembling voice betrayed the clash of fear and desire; Neasa wanted to bounce on his lap until her backside was bruised, but if she moved without permission, he might punish her more severely. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he drank in the sight of her. *She was ready.*

“Tell Charlotte to join me. You’re dismissed for the day.”

The command hit her like a blow to the stomach. One minute she’d been licking her lips in anticipation, the next she was leaving to finish tidying what remained of breakfast. With a lump in her throat, she nodded and walked away, abuzz with overwhelming confusion and the final warm strokes of pleasure.

Charlotte was already on her way to the parlour and gave the blonde a pitying smile in passing. She clearly knew something that Neasa didn’t – besides their master’s name, that is – and wasn’t letting her in on the secret. Neasa didn’t look back to watch; Charlotte was merely finishing what she’d started.

By the time she reached the kitchen the pleasure had disappeared and there was nothing left but that overwhelming confusion. Neasa knew that he’d been turned on by her involuntary performance, so why hadn’t he followed through and fucked her? Perhaps she was destined to spend her days like one of those statues, lounging around the house to complement the decor and doomed to remain unsullied for all time.

Her fretting was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. With a startled jump, the girl whirled around. Had he come back for her? The excitement dissipated at the sight of a stranger leaning in the doorway. He didn’t have the master’s black hair and indifferent demeanour, and he certainly wasn’t holding himself with magnetic self-importance.

No, this one looked strikingly like her sailor, and unlike Neasa’s past admirer, he didn’t reek of rum and sweat. Alex’s thin lips stretched into a crooked smile. “You’re Neasa?”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/jptg48/mf_slavery_noncon_spanking_squirting_the_auction