*Part 4! I’ve been so encouraged (and turned on) by your comments and PMs. Thanks for following along. I’ve decided that this will be the second-to-last part of this series. I hope you enjoy. As always, PMs are open!*
When my eyes snapped open, I immediately felt my pussy flood. I had training to thank for that. My heightened sense of arousal was a discomfort sometimes, but more often than not, a welcome gift. Today, I hoped it would serve me well. I resisted the temptation to rub my swollen bud, but I knew not to. Cumming was a privilege, not a right, as I understood that my body is not my own. I sighed frustratedly, resigning to be content with a fantasy of what my day would entail.
The auction. I had achieved the institution’s highest standards and have been labeled and processed as a sex slave to be sold to the highest bidder tonight, male or female. Secretly, I hoped for a male. Nothing could compare to the feeling of being impaled on a real cock that moved and came within whatever hole a master chose. I bit my lip at the thought. I had no say in the matter, of course, as my opinion is as worthless as me, but a slave could dream.