"Now, we'll just give you a pretty smile." One of the women used her fingers to position the paralyzed and numb lips to her satisfaction. "Perfect!" she announced. The two women stepped back to admire their work.
"You were right," said one. "She didn't need much. She looks simply delicious like this."
"Yes," replied the other. "I might even make a go at this one. She's beyond perfect."
They were releasing her hands and binding them with leather cuffs when the door opened again. "Is she ready yet?" asked the male.
"She's good to go," said the facial beautician.
"Good," replied the male. "They're ready for her now."
"She's all yours," said the nipple painter.
Chapter 2
Tempest was terrified as she was led from the room. What was going to happen? Was she about to be raped? It was down the hall they went again. The male opened the very last door at the end of the hall and bright light flooded from it. The male pushed her through.
Tempest heard the applause and thought she would die. From the sounds of the clapping, there must have been at least twenty people in the room. "I'm going to be gang raped!" she lamented to herself. She trembled from the prospect of so many men abusing her body.
A man inside the room pulled her forward. She was on a stage that was illuminated by bright floodlights. He led her to the center of the stage where a four foot pole protruded from the floor. She was backed against the pole and her cuffs were clipped to the pole. She had some modest freedom of movement but not much. She could not turn her back to the audience, which she very much wanted to do. It held her, facing forward, with her arms pulled back behind her, leaving her completely on display.
"The five items that you have seen so far tonight have all been beautiful," said the announcer. "But, as is our custom, we always save the best for last." The announcer was standing beside her with his eyes hungrily roaming over her naked flesh.
"Number six is a true beauty," he continued. "During processing, we always conduct a thorough inspection. There have been no enhancements of any kind on this girl and, I'm sure that you will all agree that none are needed. She is all natural and all gorgeous; not a scar or blemish anywhere."
The announcer reached out and lifted Tempest's right breast in his palm. Tempest tried to back away from the unwanted touch but the bindings held her in place. "38D," he declared as he started bouncing the breast. "And just look how firm it is."
Tempest looked around the room but she could not make out any of the audience. The lights were just too bright. What she did see, however, frightened her again. Around the room were several large wide screen televisions and all of them showed her being fondled. This was being filmed! If this ever got into the wrong hands, her career could be ruined!
She could always sue the people who were doing this once she was released. She knew a lot about lawsuits. But she also knew that the image on the screen would be the defense lawyer's number one piece of evidence to get the case dismissed. The woman in the video was obviously naked and obviously bound. But she was also apparently consenting to the activities. Sure, she blushed and she furrowed her brow. She even backed away once, or at least she tried to. But she never once voiced a protest or complaint. Her mouth remained closed. And, as Tempest looked at the close-up of her face when the camera panned in, she realized that there was no evidence that her mouth was clamped shut. It just looked like she chose not to speak. This made it look like she was consenting to this treatment and that she was just playing some kind of bondage game for the benefit of the cameras. But the worst part was that, not only was her mouth closed and not voicing complaints, but it had a faint smile across the lips. It actually looked like she was enjoying this.
The camera panned out again and then panned in on the breast that was still being bounced in the announcer's hand. She saw the painted nipple and had to admit that it looked erotic. She had always been proud of her breasts. They were perfectly formed and firm and full. Her college friends joked that hers were the breasts that every porn star tried to achieve through surgery but never quite attained. She earned the nickname ‘Porn Queen' among the five of her friends, which embarrassed her to no end. Now her perfect breasts were being recorded and shown to all in the room.
Once again, she wondered what had happened to her friends. She looked around the room again to find them but, once again, the lights frustrated her efforts. She was worried for herself but she was even more worried about them.
The announcer finally released the bouncing breast. "Let's travel south," he said into the microphone. Tempest watched in horror as she watched the screen, seeing his palm glide down her belly as she felt it against her naked flesh. Finally, it got to her mound.
"Open up, sweetie," the announcer said as he pried his fingers between her thighs. She shook her head and, once again, furrowed her brow. Two women approached from the sides of the stage and gripped her ankles, pulling them apart, leaving her even more exposed than before.
Tempest had to finally close her eyes as the most recent images appeared on the screen. They showed her sex with its painted petals and painted clit, glistening with evidence of her arousal. And the effect of the artificial coloring was to make it look like she was in heat. She was looking at what appeared to be the sex of a wanton slut. "Oh god, this is horrible!" she thought.
The announcer kept up a play by play commentary into the microphone through all of this, extolling the virtues of the toned flesh and firm muscles. He pushed his fingers into her sex, causing her to suck in her breath. She opened her eyes as she felt the fingers retreating, only to groan at what she saw on the huge televisions. There was a glistening finger and a very wet pussy. Stretching between the two was a string of female juices making Tempest want to cry at the indignity and humiliation.
Thankfully, the announcer finished the guided tour of her body. He held the microphone to his lips again. "Let's get down to business. Lot number six is open for bids. Bidding will start at 100."
"Oh god!" she thought. "They are auctioning off the right to rape me!" Then she thought again. That might not be so bad. At least then I'd only be raped by one instead of dozens. But then she was furious at the starting price. She did not know what a prostitute cost, but she figured it was much more than a hundred dollars. She felt insulted.
The floodlights dimmed and she was illuminated by a pair of spotlights. The bidding was opened and then quickly ran up to 300. She looked up at one of the screens to see how the change of lighting affected her appearance but the screens had changed. They were now split screens with her image on the left side and a bunch of statistics on the right.
"Current bid: 325,000 British Pounds" was the first number she saw.
"Oh my god!" she thought. The last number she had heard shouted was 325. She wasn't being sold for a fuck! This wasn't a one-nighter! This was for keeps! Nobody would pay that amount unless it was permanent. She did not remember how much a pound was worth but, to the best of her recollection, it was worth more than a dollar. She was being sold for over $325,000. An icy chill raced down her spine.