I had a problem with this one. It would be a miracle if she fetched twenty thou normally, but the discerning punter would be able to see the potential, despite her face and body. I didn’t want to waste all that profit, so I decided on a high reserve. After all, if she didn’t sell, I knew a number of people who were interested in other things beside the sex trade. I decided to move quickly and headed off to the show immediately. The drug would last long enough.
The drug started to wear off at the exact moment the two security goons grabbed hold of my arms. It was very fast. First I could move my fingers of my own accord and it only took a few seconds before I was back in total control of my body.
I’m not a black belt yet, but I knew what to do. Before anyone could react I was out of their grip and had elbowed a goon in the face. He staggered back with a broken nose by the sound. The other goon swung at me, which I expected and avoided easily. Then I kicked him on the side of his knee. He went down and wouldn’t get up soon either. Then I went for Veronica, the bitch who drugged me and controlled my mind so that I came here with her willingly. Well, apparently willingly. Inside I was screaming. I distinctly remember her face as I growled and went for her. Her fear was priceless. I’ll always remember that.
But I only managed a couple of steps towards her before I screamed with pain and went down. I didn’t lose consciousness. Then there was a hand gripping my hair and I was hauled upright. I still couldn’t stand so the person behind the hand held me upright, while I shook like a jelly, and another goon shackled me. A shackle around my neck, my wrists and my ankles. He quickly linked my wrist shackles together with a chain. Then my ankles. Then a chain from the collar to the wrist chain and then to the ankle chain. I was effectively neutralised.
St. John’s personnel came quickly to attend to the two goons I had downed, while the people around me regained their composure.
“Do you want the wrapping madam?” said the goon still holding me upright.
“No, thank you,” Veronica replied, trying to sound normal. She turned to her companion saying, “That was close. It only lasted fifteen hours. We’ll have to check our supply.”
I tried to backpedal despite my still wobbly legs when I saw a goon with a massive knife approach me, but the goon holding me wouldn’t allow that. So, I had to stand shaking while he cut the clothes off me there and then. I was so happy he didn’t just gut me I didn’t mind standing naked there in the tent’s reception area, but that feeling didn’t last long. There were a lot of people in that general area and they were all looking at me. I was embarrassed and turned red. The big goon pushed me back to the tent entrance and forced me outside and round the side, away from the people waiting to get their goods registered. He let me go, but used some sort of whip on me. It didn’t look much, but it packed a hell of a wallop on my arse when he used it on me. I screamed and jumped.
“Forward,” he ordered and I went forward. Things were happening so fast and I wasn’t over that first shock properly, so I obeyed. It was difficult walking because of my restraints and all the mud. I was slipping and sliding around so much it just about took my mind off everything except staying upright. He was wearing proper waterproofs and warm boots, so that was good. There wasn’t anything else I could do.
The people around watched with bored interest. They’d seen it all before but it was always mildly interesting. He used his whip lightly on my arse to guide me to my spot, which was under a beam of some kind where he quickly and efficiently had me shackled spread eagled to the beam. My legs were spread and shackled to posts in the bare earth. By the time I was in situ, another came with a metal disc. My own personal goon took it and fixed it to the shackle round my neck. I saw it before he attached it. It said 116. Then the two of them left, discussing yesterday’s football.
There I stood. My arms stretched to the frame and my legs spread and attached to the ground. I could feel the mud on my legs hardening. It was dark and I could only see things by the lights they used to get the event organised. It took a while, but it became apparent I wasn’t the only one in this predicament. I had tried shouting and screaming, but nobody took any notice and nobody tried to shut me up either.
It was the cold that shut me up. A cold November morning outdoors in the drizzle can cause a naked lady to shiver. So I shivered and tried to devise an escape plan. I never give up. I’m determined. I’ve been called a bossy bitch before, which I think is a gross exaggeration, but I called on all my so called bossyness then to try and calm down and get out of this. Then I would get even. That was important.
It took me a while to calm myself down in order to think. In that time it was apparent I was one of a multitude of women in the same predicament. They were constantly being brought round to their position and shackled in, just like I was. And the shackles weren’t nice modern ones, fur-lined and ergonomically designed with the comfort of the wearer in mind. No, these were large crude old fashioned ones, made of rusted, thick metal, heavy with crude corners that dug in.
I despaired then and started to quietly cry. There was no way out of this.
They had positioned us all so that we faced east and we were all blinded when the sun came up. I ended up shaking my head so my hair covered my face. It helped a bit.
It was still cold and drizzly and I didn’t warm up. I was shivering on and off all the time now. It was no use crying out or shouting. I was outdoors and my voice just faded away to nothing in all the hubbub. Other captives didn’t work this out and the women, no, girl is a better term, next to me, never stopped crying or shouting or pleading whenever someone came near. I wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up, but I held back. It was just about now when I formed my plan of action.
I deduced that this was so big, they had held these—well, travelling fairs is the term I came up with—a lot. Therefore they had the experience of at least some of us trying to escape and had shut off all the obvious ways. So, I wasn’t going to get out of it easily.
I’d read a lot then, and Modesty Blaise was one of my faves. So, what would Modesty do? Those books were all based on a ‘get me out of here’ format because Modesty would be caught and have to get herself out. She used her wits and expertise to do just that. And her Willie was always there to help as well. So, I finally came to the conclusion that Modesty would wait and conserve her energy until an opportunity came along. Then she would have to recognise it for what it was and act immediately. I resolved to do just that.
A few hours after sunrise, people came round to view the goods. I’d seen enough country shows in my time to recognise the format. I realised then we faced to sun so the punters didn’t have to view us with the sun in their eyes. That was a good idea. Who wants punters with the sun in their eyes?
Most of them just looked at me and checked their tablet. I assumed my details were on there. That must have been why Veronica had me fill out that form on her tablet while under the drug. Talk about irony, me typing out my own details for my catalogue entry. I was quietly confident because I assumed we were being sold as sex slaves and I wasn’t such material. I don’t have boobs. Well, I had tiny ones, not big enough to matter.
Modesty would have been acquiring information about everything, just in case it turned out to be useful, and I tried to emulate her.
I couldn’t remember every face that checked me out, but I did try and group them—I took an interest, although I tried hard not to let them realise what I was doing. This was an international event and that made me nervous. What if I was shipped away to some country where I didn’t know the language or customs? It would be much harder to escape then. I needed to be sold to a local, but there were plenty of those.
One such local piqued my interest. My hair was soaking and had fallen in front of my face. I didn’t try to swing it round. It provided some sort of cover for what I was watching.
“This one’s no good. Look at her tits. Why are we looking at this loser?” Said with an upper class aristocrat accent. I noted to myself that that’s one thing the French got right. This bint was almost a caricature of a horse-mad aristo. Beautiful but cold. She wore riding gear, brand new, bought for just this occasion by the look. Even I knew the aristos wore the right gear but weren’t interested in appearance. They just bought the best then wore it for the rest of their lives.
The man with her was in this mould. As were the few other aristos I had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting that freezing morning. This tart even carried a whip, the sort you use on horses, with her—crop—that’s the word. She liked emphasising points by tapping the business end on her boots.
I realised then how much I dearly wanted to be holding that whip in front of this cow. I would kill her. I surprised myself by the intensity of my thoughts. I really meant it. He was looking at me appraisingly, so I lowered my head, letting my hair cover my face, and stared at the ground for a while.
“Now Jilly. You are missing things. Remember what I told you. There are other things besides sex. You do know that don’t you?” He was also of the same ilk, but his manner was confident. He exuded experience in these matters.
“This one is interesting. Don’t you see that? She is trained in martial arts and she’s intelligent. Fluent in English, French and German, two degrees and a masters, all in technical subjects, by age twenty three tells a lot. Her university was a red brick as well. They just don’t dole out degrees for nothing there, you know. You’re twenty three, how many degrees do you have?”
“So what? She’s there and she’ll be sold. She’s ugly. Why would anyone want to fuck her? She’s useless.”
I instinctively realised I wanted this tart to own me. She was my best chance out of there. No matter how many precautions this one took, I would outsmart her, even if it took years. I would slowly kill this bint. I kept my face passive. The guy she was with was no dummy.
He sighed. “Jilly, I’ve already told you about our training programme. By the time she’s been through it, she’ll be totally loyal to us. We could use her expertise by having her run my estate, the whole estate, not just the public one. That takes a lot of work and ability and she has it. Appropriate candidates for such a post would be asking, and getting, a salary of over £100,000 a year. We must take that into account if we bid for her.”
She looked at him scornfully. “What’s the point of owning her if we can’t have any fun? I can use her in any way I like if she’s ours, but I want to be able to offer her to our guests—some of our guests,” she amended. “She’d be useless as a maid as well. She’s just not good enough.”
“But Jilly, we can have her tits enhanced. They’d be whatever size you want. And her bum. And her face. The cost would be negligible. She could work the estate during the day and be your maid in the evenings. As long as the estate work isn’t compromised that is.” He said that last sentence quietly, looking at Jilly.
She looked at him and smiled then turned and approached me, raising her hand to clear the hair from my face in order to see me better. I made some sort of noise then jerked my head forward and tried to bite her hand. She screamed and jerked her hand back. After a pause, her man just looked appraisingly at me, she raised her whip to give me a good thrashing, as they used to be able to do.
“No, Jilly,” he said as he grabbed her wrist. “That’s not on you know.”
She was furious and turned on him. “Did you see what she tried to do? I’m going to teach the tart a lesson she’ll never forget.”
‘Oh God,’ I thought. ‘She speaks in clichés. Just how dumb is she?’
He took the whip from her hand with a curt “No.”
She faced him off, then, after a short while calmed down and smiled. “Yes. It’ll be much more fun when I get her home, won’t it? You were going to teach me what to look for, so, how do we check this one out?”
Before he could answer, there was a “Hello,” from their left. They turned and greeted two women. These women were dressed appropriately and comfortably for the conditions. They were warm and happily greeted the man, whom the older woman apparently knew well.
“This is Abbey Cornish,” the older woman said. They all said hello. Jilly was introduced as well. Once all the polite formalities were dispensed with, they chatted for a while.
“And what’s your interest here Abbey?”
“I’m a newish trainer and Sonia is showing me around this show. It’s very interesting.”
“Now don’t be fooled by her Jacob. Abbey here is an excellent trainer already. She’s had a lot of successes and is moving up in the world. I’m just showing her around because she’s outgrown her old stables and has just set up locally to expand. As you know, I’m retiring soon and I’m glad Abbey can take over the reins. All she needs is more experience at the top end. I’m certain she’ll do very well.”
“In that case I’m very pleased to meet you Abbey. Do you have a card on you by any chance?” Abbey dug one out from somewhere and handed it to him. He inspected it then tucked it away in his wallet.
Jilly was getting impatient. “You were going to show me how to check her out,” she reminded Jacob.
He smiled. “Yes I was. But perhaps we should let these ladies have first go. After all, it’s their livelihood.”
Jilly didn’t like that but the older lady got in first. “No, no. Please carry on. After all, you saw her first. It’s no problem, I assure you.”
Jacob smiled pleasantly at them, turned and walked towards me. He slid past me, taking care to keep out of the range of my teeth. Once behind me he grabbed my hair and pulled back. That hurt. I was keeping a list and there were now a lot of people on it. It might have been a long list, but I was certain I wouldn’t forget anyone. Jacob here was second and Jilly was top.
My head was back so far my mouth was open. “Take the bit and put it in her mouth, just like a horse,” he ordered. She did so and there were now two things that stopped my biting anything. “Look at her teeth. They’ll tell you her age and give an indication of her condition. What do you see?”
Jilly was obviously happy again and got close. Pity I couldn’t bite her nose off. “They look young and good,” she answered happily. She hadn’t forgotten her ‘fun’ to come.
I had been there shackled in the same position for hours now. Last night I was drinking, although that was cut short, but I had had a few, so I was well on the way to pissing myself. I’d seen some of the others doing just that, making it obvious they were scared as all hell and had been taken after they got drunk. By the smell, some of them had done more than that.
I moved a bit, making him tighten his grip on my hair, but I did manage to tilt my hips. I let loose. It was a big stream all over his boots. That’ll teach him not to invade my space. But I wanted Jilly as well, so, part way through, I tilted them forwards as fast as I could and included a side to side movement in there as well. My forward tilt was fast enough to effectively whip the stream upwards. Whips were on my mind for some reason. She was close enough to receive a lot, which zig zagged up her boots and trousers and wetted her groin area. She screamed and jumped back.
“I’ll fucking kill you for that bitch,” she cried after she paused to assess the damage. Jacob had immediately let me go and shuffled carefully passed me to stop her whipping me. I remember thinking I must be more careful. I didn’t remember her getting her whip back.
“You can’t do that, Jilly,” he said forcefully, holding her arm again. “It’s just not done. Happenings like this are considered our fault. We can’t take it out of the livestock just for being what they are.”
Jilly was furious and argued, but he was adamant.
I shook my head to clear the hair from my face. “Jilly,” I said loudly. She turned towards me and I spat in her face. It was a good one. The look on her face told me. Well, that and my hockle dripping down her cheek from her left eye told me.
She was furious again, but this time didn’t try to attack me. My hero protector—not—was there to stop me from getting hurt.
She stormed off to get washed and changed. He didn’t go with her, but he did give me an appraising look which I would have loved if I didn’t want to rip his cock off and stuff it up his arse.
“I do apologise for her,” he eventually said to the two bints. She’s new here and I was showing her the ropes.”
“No need to apologise Jacob. We understand,” answered the older bint.
He smiled. “Actually, this gives me the opportunity of seeing you at work Abbey. Would you mind assessing this creature for me?”
I had shaken my hair so it was now hiding my features again while I checked out these two properly. Abbey here was young, very young, but had an air of confidence I didn’t like at all. I didn’t want either of these bints owning me.
“Well, after checking the catalogue, we came here specifically looking for this one. She seems to have the potential of being a very good buy. On paper at least,” she amended. “I saw her trying to bite your friend and I think that was an act.”
‘Oh shite,’ I thought.
“Explain,” he said after looking at me carefully. I kept my head down, hiding my face with my soaking wet hair.
“Well, I was too far away to be certain, but it did look that way. I’m certain she could have bitten your friend (She obviously didn’t want to say Jilly’s name) but instead went for scaring her.”
“And why would she do that?”
“That’s a good question. I was intrigued until she pissed over your boots and your friend.” He looked at her until she went on. “You see, I’ve already read her entry and know she’s highly intelligent. Martial arts as well, but her choice of Tae Kwan Do is instructive.” He was obviously interested and didn’t interrupt. I thought of screaming to distract them, but that wouldn’t work. I didn’t know what to do, so I listened as well. This one was far too sharp for my own good. She was also rising fast up my list. “You see, Tae Kwan Do is a full contact sport. This girl,” she indicated me with her head, “is highly experienced and has experience of performing to a high standard while avoiding or receiving blows—under duress, in other words. I think she’s worked out a strategy. I think she’s trying to get someone she thinks she can manipulate into buying her. It’s a long term strategy, but, even so, that impresses me a lot. I’d like to get the chance to train her. She’d make my name.”
That bint is far too smart for her own good. She’s on top of the list.
He looked at Abbey and smiled. “Are you going to bid for her?”
She shrugged and looked at the older bint, who shrugged back. “You know how it is. What with the cost and the time I’d need to train her, I can’t afford her. After all, I may make a fabulous profit when I sell her, but I’d be bankrupt before that happens. This one won’t be trained quickly and I just can’t afford the time.” She smiled at him. “I’m terribly disappointed, of course, but that’s just how it is.”
“Pity,” he said. “How about you Sonia?”
She shrugged. “I’m too old. Stock like her are a youngster’s game, not mine. I’d have jumped at the chance when I was younger, of course. But I was in the same position Abbey’s in now, financially I mean, when I was her age.”
She turned to Abbey. “What I would have done back then, is find out who bought her and tried to get him to use me. I suggest you do the same, Abbey. That sometimes works, even if they have their own in-house trainers. You have to approach them in the correct manner, of course.”
Sonia was now top of my list. I didn’t want any of these people owning me. They were competent.
“I was wondering if your game is worth the candle.” He was talking specifically to Abbey. “I mean, all those new drugs coming onto the market nowadays. Doesn’t that mean your services will become obsolete?”
I was watching him and saw he knew the answer. He was testing the Abbey bint.
“I don’t know exactly what you know about training, but I assure you the new drugs are not competition.” She looked at him and assured herself he wanted her to continue. “You see, every one of the new drugs are based on an unstable formula. Yes, the best of them will make a person compliant and obedient to your slightest wish, but they don’t last. Twenty four hours is the typical time one can allow before the drug wears off. Plus, during that time, a body will build up an immunity. This means the second dose is markedly less effective and after that—well—the person is effectively immune. These drugs can be effective in acquiring a person, and for rape, but not much else. And the rape is problematic because the woman remembers everything.”
“Our traditional methods, on the other hand, are time consuming and expensive. They’re more like an art form than anything else. We all use Pavlovian methods to modify behaviour and that takes a lot of expensive time. Once the animal is behaving as we require, we will then use our drugs on her. The first batch forces the animal to love whomever we want her to love. After that has been established, our second batch fixes those emotions in place permanently. The problem is deciding when to dose the animal. That depends on a multitude of factors. There isn’t a timetable for these things. The trainer has to decide on the exact drug, its strength and exactly when to administer the doses. That requires extensive expertise and an intimate knowledge of the subject. They are qualities that cannot be taught. They have to be acquired through experience and an artistic flair is a must for a successful trainer. Typically, it would take a year to eighteen months for a completely satisfactory conversion, but remember, every animal is unique and requires different methods and drug allocations to be converted.”
‘She’s selling herself,’ I thought. ‘She knows he knows all this.’ I liked that explanation. Information was what I was desperately lacking so far. ‘Now I know there are pitfalls for them. That can only be good, in the situation I’m in now.’
I didn’t like the next bit though.
“And, of course, there are a number of failures. An owner will then be forced to sell the animal at a loss, usually to one of the overseas cheap brothels who hang around seeking these failures out. He can recoup at least some of his money that way. Otherwise it’ll be another job for the knacker’s yard.”
No, I really didn’t like that bit. I’ll have to think this over when I get a bit of free time.
He thanked her and smiled at them. “Well, I mustn’t keep you and I have to check up on Jilly. I’m sure I’ll see you again Abbey. And you too, of course, Sonia.”
After smiling and nodding, like the polite, civilized, establishment cunts they were, they walked their separate ways, leaving me despondent and trying to raise the energy to start all over again.
But I did. I had no other option. People came and went and I tried to subtly influence those I thought I could outsmart. There were quite a few of them, but I eliminated those who were just too cruel. Unfortunately, the majority of them were from overseas. They didn’t seem interested in me. Perhaps the cost of a boob job put them off. After all, they had transport costs to consider.
After a long while I saw goons unchain a group of women and chain them together then march them away. ‘It’s started,’ I thought. Eventually I was in the middle of such a group. We were brought inside an entrance to the large marquee, where we were stopped and the whole group attached to a post. Because of the conditions underfoot, some of us had slipped and brought everyone down. We were all covered in mud. There was another group in front of us. There we waited while we all heard what was going on. Some of the women just realised what was happening there and then and they freaked out. Whenever one of us made a noise, a goon whipped her. If she fell, we all fell.
Those whips looked like toys that wouldn’t hurt a fly, but the handles were large, actually, too large for comfort. The batteries were obviously inside the handles. I looked and those shocks didn’t seem to leave any mark, even though they hurt like hell. There must have been some sort of control on the handles. I knew from experience they could incapacitate me, if a goon deemed it necessary.
Ten of the group in front were unshackled and led to an area where they were given instructions. Those whips made very effective teachers. They were taught to ‘move into position’—move to the front of the stage; ‘stand’—stand with both arms raised and legs apart; kneel—kneel with both arms raised and knees apart. Just the three instructions, that’s all. Then they were dragged away towards the auction, one by one.
I watched it all happen as the mud dried on my body, informing me of all the little hairs that needed removing. I watched the women. Most of them just did as they were told. They were resigned by now. I did too, when my time came. But I wasn’t resigned. I just couldn’t see how an escape bid from here could work. One thing I did notice was that there were three goons armed with some sort of heavy duty shocker around when it was my turn to be shackle free. I don’t think they trusted me, for some reason. I used that thought to bolster my courage. I still hoped Jilly would buy me. She was my best bet, especially if that Jacob wasn’t around.
I was prodded, no shocks if I behaved, into a tunnel. There was no way through and the entrance was closed behind me. Then the hoses were turned on me. I thought I was used to the cold by now, but I wasn’t. I curled up and tried to protect myself only to have someone prod me with something that shocked me.
“Stand up straight,” was the order. I did, but it was an effort. Soon, all the mud, including the caked on stuff was washed off and I was deemed ready to be presented to my admiring audience.
Then the way forward was cleared and I found myself behind a wooden frame facing the stage. I could see the poor wretch up there, my very young neighbour from the shackles. She was terrified and tried to obey the commands, but misheard half of them. She wasn’t shocked on stage. The bidding started low, £50-00 only and went on from there. The auctioneer was fast and efficient, obviously very good at his job. She ended up sold to what looked like a foreign man, an Asian, for £14,500. That didn’t seem a lot to me. I hardened my heart while watching her ordeal because I’d no way of helping her. She was ordered off stage but didn’t hear, so she had to be prodded to the offstage tunnel.
Then it was my turn. The three goons were still behind me and they prodded me onstage while I was introduced to the crowd. The three goons came onstage with me to keep me under control, so I behaved myself. I hoped that would lower my price. The lower the price the more chance I’d be kept in some ramshackle place somewhere. Would that be a better option for me? I had wondered if I could launch myself at the crowd and cause a riot, but there was a Perspex screen between us.
“Move into position,” was the instruction, so I went to the front of the stage staring hard at the crowd. Was there anyone there I could appeal to? I couldn’t find him. I say him, but the crowd was split about 50-50 between men and women. When I get out of this I’m going after those women first. And not in a legal way.
“Stand.” I raised my arms and spread my legs, looking round to work out where the goons were. “Eyes front,” was immediately barked at me. I stared at the crowd. The auctioneer had already started his spiel, and was about to start the bidding when a loud voice from the back shouted “One hundred thousand.”
That silenced the crowd.
I rejoiced. It was Jilly the tart.