Names
Her name was Elisabeth Warner, but she was known by other names too. Her beloved husband called her darling, her German grandmother called her Liesl, her friends usually Liz and the light of her life called her mommy.
Yet the men who had abducted her added further names, they called her slut and fresh meat. It had all happened so quickly, she had been leaving the Coin Caribbean, the tanning studio she frequented. Just because it was December in Manchester there was no reason she could see, not to have a nice tan. Liz had been walking with steady pace towards her car, as she passed a nondescript black van, she heard a door sliding open behind her. Suddenly somebody threw a black cloth hood over her head, and pulling a string tight around her neck, leaving her disorientated and in darkness.
Before she could react or even scream, strong arms grabbed her around the waist and heaved her into the van. The door slammed shut, and she was buried under the heavy weight of a man’s body, pinning her to the floor. The engine of the van revved up, and she felt the vehicle picking up speed. Liz began to scream, but her voice was drowned out by the noise of the engine.
At this point she was afraid, deadly afraid and fought like a wild cat, but the man or was it more than one, was not impressed. She felt somebody grabbing her ankles pulling the legs straight. There was a zipping noise and some kind of plastic noose was tightened around her ankles, locking them together. The warm jacket she had been wearing was pulled of her body, she could hear the damp sound of it being thrown to the side. Almost immediately her wrists were bound behind her back in the same fashion as her ankles.
Liz lay entirely helpless on the floor of a van, surrounded by strangers she could not even see, but she could hear them.
“Careful with those scissors. Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we arrive.” an unmistakable English voice said?
“Stop worrying, those are EMT shears. They can’t even nick her skin. But here have a look how well they work on those jeans.” the second man had a slight West Indies accent.
And so they did, starting at her ankle he quickly cut upwards until he reached the waist line, and then through it, the fabric falling open. He immediately repeated the process with the other leg, before giving the sturdy fabric a sharp pull and leaving her lower body only clad in socks shoes and powder blue panties.
“That’s a great ass.”
“I agree let’s flip her onto her back, and see how well your scissors work on the rest.”
They worked equally well, Liz heavy sweater and non-matching white bra fell quickly and without effort. Liz now thoroughly afraid, was expecting the assault on her person to begin now. But there was only a quick grope to her breast.
“Nice and firm, lies well in the hand.”
“Sure she got great tits, let’s get rid of those knickers.”
“So this is when they are going to rape me.” Liz was scared stiff, but those thoughts formed very calmly in her mind.
Two further snips and a tug, and she felt the cold air at her most private spot.
“Will you look at those nice and thick lips?”
“Can you imagine having your cock framed by them? I bet she is tight.”
Liz felt a finger pressing between the folds of her sex.
“Nah, she is well fucked, but not loose”
A hand was grabbing her by the hair that comprised the well groomed landing strip on her mound.
“This will of course have to go. Nobody cares for proof on the dark haired ones. That’s only required for blondes or redheads.”
That had been a bit longer than two hours ago, now she stood in a darkened room. If one was allowed to consider a room with a single light dark. Liz could not really see anything, as that spotlight was directed straight at her. Illuminating her naked form from the chin downwards. Her hands fastened at the back of her neck to a metal collar, caused her chest to push forward. Glancing down to avoid the harsh light hurting her eyes she saw the hard shadows cast by her nipple on the pale flesh of her breast.
The light was also shining her belly and freshly denuded sex. In fact there wasn’t a single hair below her eyebrows remaining on her body. They had not shaved her pubic hair, shaving was an intimate and very personal process. There had been nothing personal about that process, Liz felt like thy had shorn her like a sheep, before plucking stray hair with tweezers. The detachment of the men had been almost as humiliating as the feeling of exposure.
Next had been the washing. They scrubbed her down with buckets of cold water and a stiff brush. Her recently defoliated pudenda reacting poorly to the rough treatment. Spreading open the petals of her sex and cheeks for a thorough application of said brush.
Lastly somebody wrote with a grease pen on her naked Mons #24-12-007. She was led into the dark room and saw several metal contraptions hanging from the ceiling or standing up from the floor. Liz was led to something the looked like two metal boots cut down lengthwise, but still room for her toes. They forced her feet into them, and secured them with a leather strap around her ankle. She quickly became aware that the positioning of the boots kept her from closing her legs and forcing her toes to point slightly outwards.
Feeling utterly exposed she tried to hide as much of herself as she could by slouching, only to find that the ropes hanging from the ceiling were equipped with strong metal clips. Her captors pulled her by the hair, tied into a ponytail and forced her upright, keeping her like that by connecting the clip to her hair.
From the surrounding darkness she heard voices, conversations in low tones she could not understand.
“Oh dear god, what is happening here?” she thought
Liz had never before felt so alone and vulnerable. Those people didn’t care about her. They didn’t think that Elisabeth Warner, was an intelligent woman, deserving some dignity. Those people didn’t see any value in her person, but they had an excellent view on her vulva.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, our next lot is number seven.” the voice came from a speaker somewhere in the dark
“Help me!” Liz shouted “I have been abducted.”
“As you can hear, No 7 is a fresh acquisition, fluent in English. Nice healthy tan, without those nasty tan lines. According to my records she has not been vetted or trained by us. So if you would like to do a quick evaluation for yourself, please do so now. The bidding will start in 10 minutes.”
She was approached by several men in evening wear. Without so much as by your leave they started to prod her. Grabbing her breasts, pinching them, twisting her nipples. She cried out in indignation when the first finger entered her vagina, but another just grabbed her head and held her mouth open inspecting her teeth, as if she was a bloody horse.
Liz had no idea how much of the 10 minutes had passed, it felt like hours as she heard an alto voice “Boys, let me have a look at this filly.”
The owner of the voice, was a blond woman in her mid-thirties. Hair tied to a tight bun and dressed in a formfitting ensemble made of black leather.
“Please, please help me.” Liz begged, hoping to elicit sympathy from the other woman.
The woman was a bit smaller than her even with the high heels she wore, so the blue eyes looked slightly up to her.
With a loud whack she slapped Liz’s naked breast. “Mistress. If you address me you will use the word Mistress. Again!”
Liz looked at her in utter confusion. Earning herself another slap.
“You tried to say something before. Assuming you were not just wasting my time, ask properly this time.”
“Please help me” Liz said before adding “Mistress”
“I don’t think that there is much help I give you. Or do you want me to use my good money on you.”
“No Mistress”
“Yes that’s what I thought.” the blonde grabbed between Liz’s legs. “Your cunt is yearning for cock, I know, and all those men are just looking forward to using that hole until you bleed. Not all by themselves of course. That fat one over there runs brothels. So he sure can recoup any expenditures on you. He does not care how many tricks you have to do to break even.”
Liz blanched, she had fortified herself to rape, but sexual slavery was a whole different affair.
“Or that blonde guy with the smarmy grin.” the blonde didn’t have to point him out Liz could readily identify him.
“He has a reputation of being an ass man. So before the night is over, you will know why you enjoy anal sex so much. You enjoy it.”
“No Mistress.” her response was barely audible.
“Well I don’t much care about your holes. They are nasty and only get you into trouble. Show me your tongue.”
Liz extended her tongue. Suddenly feeling a hand at her clit, pinching hard.
“You are going to try to convince me of your worth, so show me how far that tongue can eat me out.”
Liz now properly terrified pushed out her tongue even further.
“Much better, perhaps you are worth a few pounds.” The blonde returned into the darkness.
The unseen auctioneer, began to ask for bids, starting at 1000 Pounds quickly ramping up the numbers. As the successful bidder was only ever identified by a number, Liz had no idea who did the bidding. After a few minutes of frantic bidding, Liz was now in a position to say that she was worth 17500 Pound Sterling. A slightly bizarre information to know about oneself.
She was taken towards the successful bidder. The blonde was pointing towards the ground, and she was pushed onto her knees. Looking now up to her new Mistress.
“So much better, I did not like having to look up to you. It will be one of your duties to make sure to remain below my chin level at all times.”
The blonde then looked to her captors. “I have no need for her ass or cunt. So have them plugged, and a chastity belt put around them. That should encourage my new toy to greater cooperation.”
Toy. She had started the day known by many names, but now that was all she was. A toy.
The End.
