Things move quickly.

“Many of you have possessed Sylvia before and she is well known for her obedience and compliance. Sylvia has a week of leave organised after this weekend and as such her sale will not be for just this evening but until the end of next weekend. She will be a live in ****. She will need to be fed and provided with a sleeping area. Utmost subservience and attentiveness is guarenteed.” There is a murmur of interest from the gallery at this announcement.

You listen curiously. The idea of spending a week as a live in **** is oddly intriguing. You imagine yourself in Sylvia’s place. A **** attending a master or mistress. Kept naked... that is stomach churningly arousing. Wrong. You were not a submissive... well you thought you weren’t... but there is no denying the notion gets your juices flowing. You’d perform household chores as a lowly unentitled live in toy. And whenever your master or mistress wanted they would take you. You’d have no say in it, no way in it at all. Bent over a counter or bed and your hot hungry pussy filled with your masters man meat or your mistresses fingers or strap on.

“As you are aware Sylvia prefers masters partners but female mistresses are also welcome.... shall I start the bidding at a thousand? Fifteen hundred to the mistress in red. Two thousand is bid by Lord James. Two and a half. Three....” she is the centre of attention. Weak. Bound. An object of desire. Something to be owned and controlled. Something a part of you wants to be. “I should remind you that this is a trial run. It has the potential for permanence if both parties agree.... three and a half. Four. Come now. This will be for eight days at least. Four and a half. Five... excellent sir. Five and a half. Six from Lady Leash. Six thousand five hundred. Do I hear seven? Seven. Consider the possibilities masters and mistresses. Seven - eight.” You considered them. It was hard not too. “A much sought after thrall. Possibly to be out of circulation. Possible permanent ownership. Her consent is after all something of a formality. Observe her evident arousal in anticipation of a future of subservience under your heel... eight and a half. Nine. Nine and a half! Ten!” He pauses. Your arousal matches hers. You can’t wait to be up there too. Your freedom in jeopardy. “Do I hear any more? Going once. Sylvia is young. Nineteen years. No tattoos or piercings. C-cup breasts that are young and firm. Her pussy is tight and wet and craving your ministrations... going twice! I remind you this is a rare opportunity... a live in ****... going twice....”

A feminine voice whispers in your ear. Sarah. “Would you like to be a **** for the weekend Michelle?” Hands tighten your harness then reach under from behind and stroke your raging sex. “I think you would. You’d go home with your owner. Sometimes a weekend becomes a lifetime. Some slaves are only sold once and spend the rest of their life as slaves. You’d like that. Wouldn’t you. I know you would...”

Would you? Right now you think you would.