I have this fantasy of being auctioned off. Sold to the highest bidder. He would be handsome, a bit older than me, and a dominant. I would be taken onto a stage, presented naked for hundreds of men to stare at, to judge. I would turn when told, touch my toes when told, pull my long blonde hair aside when asked so they could observe every inch of me uncovered. My nipples would be so hard that they hurt. I would have chill bumps on my body, the feeling of eyes running up and down me would be getting to me. The bidding would start at $1000, as was customary for all women like me. I have earplugs in so I can’t hear, but I can see. Hands go up, hands go down, my mind can’t keep up. Fear and worry will completely take me over soon it seems. After what must be 30 years, the lights go out, I’m escorted off stage and into a back room, alone in the dark. Here I wait for the man who just paid god knows what for the gift of me. For the pleasure of doing literally whatever he wants to me, and I can’t stop any of it. Im scared but is it wrong that I’m excited too?
Part 2 to come.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/hco5y9/auction_fantasy
Damn that was hot, can’t wait for part 2
As hands go up and down in the audience, I find an unworthy thought creeping into my head. “That one’s cute. I hope he picks me.”
“I hope he picks me? What on earth am I thinking? All night I’ve been wishing I could be anywhere but the plush, awful prison they’ve been holding me in. For weeks I’ve been wishing I could be going anywhere but to the auction block.
And with that, I returned to sanity. I almost broke down crying right the and there, but thankfully I remembered what they did to women who didn’t stand tall, quiet, and pretty. So there I stood. Willing myself to appear okay with this whole crazy situation.
And then he looked at me, and his eyes drilled into mine. I looked away but I felt his eyes on me. When I looked back he smiled and raised his hand.
“I have 5 thousand!” the man on the podium shouted. “Do I hear 6?”
I’ll never forget the way he looked at me that day. I felt like he already owned me. And, I’m ashamed to say, I liked it.