It had been hours since the night had begun. Her head was bowed ad her eyes closed. Did she know she was a fairy? A mess of amber waves sprung from her head. I imagined it all pulled back for a day job in a downtown office tower. A curvy goddess disguised and contained in a white blouse and black pencil skirt every day. And when the moon was waning, the goddess emerged.
“She is fucking ethereal,” I commented to no one in particular. I watched the others as they cheered and jeered at Beanpole’s performance. It was the strangest thing all of a sudden. I could smell food. At the bottom of the stairs was a small table with a selection of vegetables, fruit an assortment of hor d’oeuvres. I had to contain my urge to laugh here. I was in the middle of an erotic rollercoaster, watching things unfold, and there were snacks. Was the plan to stop and have a break before the final slave was auctioned for the evening. It struck me as odd that no one else seemed to notice that food had appeared. On the far wall, she stood and fidgeted, stretching her feet as though she was about to go up onto her toes. She was utterly indifferent to the funky music and dancing Sissy just six feet away from her. It seemed like she was separate somehow in a world all her own unaffected by the evening events. She didn’t look around the room, hoping to catch anyone’s eye. She didn’t play with her clothing or flick nervously with her fingers. Her makeup was still creating a mask and holding her most authentic self behind shiny blushed cheeks, long eyelashes and rosy lips. Her skin tone was muted, and she grabbed the last sun-kissed freckles of summer. Her tan lines we’re from a modest bathing suit but defined enough that you could have drawn an outline for some version of the emperor’s new clothes. She was comfortable in her own skin and indifferent to those around her. She was very unusual and carried herself considering she had agreed to be a sex slave for the evening.
Lotti was the only one left to be bid on for the evening. It has been an entirely civil night of sensual and sexual indulgence. Not a bawdy orgy of arms, legs, sweat and bodily fluids choreographed o pleasure. I had no information about her in my book. Unlike the others who were a caller, she had a 2-inch green satin ribbon tied in a bow at the back of her neck. She didn’t have a curd with her “hard no” list attached to it.
A pair of soft green panties looked so odd in this cavern of dim light and sensuality. It was just panties, but these panties told a story. Her being told the story of being wise enough to not sell it but coy sufficient to be enticing. This was a woman who knew how to get her way without saying a word. The green shimmer of mother of pearl captured in satin and threads of silver through the lace complimented her smooth, taut skin. The lace detail dipped to the top of her pubis, drawing the eye to the Aladdin’s cave of wonder, veiled behind the flawless green satin. The satin was gathered, not tight or worn, almost as though it floated above her skin. My sex twitched with the thought of running a nail along the edge of those panties. Imaging my face against her thigh, blowing cool air over the satin until I raised goose pimples on her creamy sun-tanned skin or a moan of pleasure from her throat.
I was happily doodling in the margin when the auctioneer came to the centre of the room.
“Slaves and Masters, tonight or cave of indulgence offers a rare treat indeed.” He walked over to the wall, slid his hand behind Lotti’s back and escorted her to the centre of the room. She walked. He spoke, “this tantalizing being offers a unique and special opportunity for everyone here this evening. Lotti is here to fulfill a fantasy. Not to be taken lightly, I have assured her of the ultimate erotic journey. Lotti has entrusted me to invite you to heighten her senses and bring her to rapture.”
The crowd was audible in its delight. With all master’s permission, we would like the slaves to be released to participate freely. However, if a master cares to choreograph and direct a particular slave to participate in what is to be offered, that is acceptable. The hard limits are no marks, no toys, check-in before penetration and safe words green, yellow, and red.
“the fantasy is simple. Our darling Lottie would like to be restrained, blindfolded and delighted. She has been pampered, oiled and made ready for a banquet of delights which we offer to you. All I could think was he has to stop talking this way because it’s way too weird. However, when I looked around the room, it was apparent, he was spinning a web that would draw in every willing participant. The question was, what Ds would play or who would run free?
He motioned me to come to him. The caftan-wearing auctioneer squeezed Lottie’s bottom. She squeaked and hopped a little. Quietly I was told to take the two male slaves to the other side bring the double bed to the middle of the room, placing the casters and their wooden blocks. Ensure the four-point restraints were easily accessible and that a clean satin sheet was placed over the waterproof covering. I was to put a black satin scarf, a hair elastic, massage oil, lube, 2 sizes of condoms and an assortment of arousal items on the folded table draped with a heavy carpet. I took the two male slaves by their lead and escorted them to the other side. I undid their leads and gave them a set of instructions. Leaving them to their own devices, I went up to the fridge and grabbed a case of water. Without prompting, I grabbed a tray of ice, a small bowl, and a clean dish towel as well. The ice was because I wanted the opportunity to torture and pleasure those beautiful blush nipples. The mere thought of tracing her areola with the ice followed by my warm, soft tongue encircling her nipple as it rose made me blush. I envisioned her in my mouth and sucked wantonly. The vision of her drawing away from the cold and then arching upwards silently asking for more as the ice melted away and my hot mouth feasted on her luscious mound. I longed to have her for myself to open her wide and taste her sweetness. To let my tongue moisten and massage her sex, sucking her hard clit into my mouth and wildly flicking her to orgasm with my tongue. The mere thought of it made my nipples hard, and my cunt twitch.
Adjusting my clothing and taking a moment to bring myself back, I went back to the basement and distributed the water to everyone. Our host had explained that the same rules applied as always. Safe, sane, and consensual whether it’s a party of 1 or 10, everyone is safe, everyone is trusted, and no one crosses the line. This was an experienced group of BDSM aficionados; so, I wasn’t too worried about things going wrong. Everyone except Lotte was hydrating and nibbling on snacks. In my absence, a small stool was placed near the auctioneer. He was holding the black scarf in his hand.
“Lotti has asked that no one speak, that this be a completely tactile experience and what loti wants, Lotti gets. I’m going to blindfold our voluptuous treat. Each of you will use hand signals to let me know your bid. Remember, you are not bidding for exclusive access but to share in the pleasure. There will be no talking, but there can be utterances of fun and divine ecstasy that lift your senses and engage your thoughts. What do you want to do to help this woman fall into herself to experience freedom like only we can offer. No judgement, no reprisal, just fucking great sex.
Lotte sat blindfolded on the stool with nobody touching her. The house-made itself known with the blowing of the furnace and the creaking of the walls. I momentarily closed my eyes to try and imagine what it felt like to be naked, blindfolded and surrounded by a group of strangers. I played with almost every member of this club and thought nothing of stripping and joining in the fun. The slaves stood together between the Doms and me. I couldn’t help but wonder if the masters got more joy from controlling someone from afar or if they wanted the salt of her skin in their tongues. I had never seen an auction night be so orderly, civilized, and incredibly sensual now build towards a potential orgy. Every other time this group had played together by the 2nd or definitely the third slave, the entire room would be actively playing. Those who had not bid Would toss money at the auctioneer and allow for a free for. Often times padded sawhorses held a girl or two readies to suck and be fucked. Without fail, at least one man would be turned into a pet or a Sissy and at the side of one of the Doms for the night. The rules of no booze and safe words were always present, but it was just wilder than this. This pace and control built the intensity. Everyone was still enticed to play and fantasize right to the very end of the night. No one wanted to go home early from this final act. The bidding head finished, and Lotte was satisfied with the amount she had raised. I was told to record $2200 in the book but with no specific name next to it.
All we’re welcome to play as they saw fit. I jotted the information down and placed the book on its’ shelf. Several people were undressing. I stepped forward and raised my hand, waiting to have Lottie’s hand put into mine. I brought her close to me. My arm around her back, hoping to make her feel protected. I steadied her as we walked towards the bed. I whispered instructions. I directed her to the center of the bed, secured her blindfold, and placed both her hands and ankles in the four-point restraints. I kissed her on the forehead and told her she was a very good girl. I resisted the urge to nip at her erect nipples as she maneuvered herself into a comfortable position.