New Black and White Gold Parts 2 & 3
Part 2
The Slave Auction - Fun and Failure
I was doing so was well, I decided I could afford my own slave. I went to my first action. What a great time it was. I had come to grips with my sexual orientation years ago, and knew that I was gay. Slaves were sold naked, and for me, who not only was gay but liked B&D and S&M, I was just in cock dripping
heaven seeing all those naked hulks chained on their little podiums, with their hands locked to their slave collars, . I suddenly realized that my time of looking for some action on AOL or YAHOO was over. I could have a hulk, and all the chains I could imagine, and beat the slave's ass as much as I wanted; make
the slave crawl and beg to my heart's content, and even engage in water sports and scat if I wanted to move that far with calm equaniminity.
I was looking around not quite knowing what to do when a announcement was made that all first time buyers were invited to a demonstration of how to evaluate a slave, with live slave models to try our skills on. I soon had a very stiffening cock and knew two changes I would make for future trips to the auction house was to wear a condom and a jock. Thankfully I was wearing black slacks, and so the wet spot was not too noticeable. I noted others with these spots also, and a sort of smirk on the face of the trainers and they checked out all the wet spots. I was taught how to test muscle groups and the commands to give to
get the slave ready for me to test their butt hole for my use, and was assured the slave would happily clean my finger after its inspection. No rubber glove was needed. We had freedom to explore. "GOD SLAVERY IS GREAT!!" I thought to myself.
After the training I returned to the auction room, and armed with my new knowledge ran my hands over a white slave who had muscles that were just magnificent, and as I was checking out the muscle tone, smiled at me in a very seductive way. I realized that the slave wanted to make itself as appealing to me as possible. For some reason my face colored, and one of the ever-present attendants came over to inquire if the slave had said or done anything that had disturbed me. I merely commented that the slave seemed to be happy that I was examining him. The attendant explained that indeed the slave might be. Slaves not sold to individual owners at this auction would be sent back to the slave training facility for a refresher course on what being a slave was all about, and with a smile and a knowing wink the attendant said, ".... and you know what I mean when I say 'refresher' I am sure." Well I did not have a clue, but smiled and tried to think of something to say that would not scream "This guy is clueless, and doesn't know enough to deserve to own a slave." Perhaps however, the trainer did understand I did not know by adding, "They begin with a whipping for not returning some profit to the training facility for the trouble the facility put into training them for sale. Then for two weeks they are worked harder and with heavier chains, and with more prodding to build up body and appearance to make for a fast sale. If a slave was put up for auction a
second time, and did not sale again, the slave was reclassified as a "CLASS L" slave, and would then be sold by lot with other "L for LOSER" slaves. I did not know what the "L" really stood for, but "Loser" seemed clear enough to me. Class "L" slaves could legally be used more harshly and since they were sold
in a group of five or ten, was less of an investment, and so could expect a life of little concern for its health and safety, and a quick whip, slave prod, or paddle for anything less than total effort. All this explained why the slave had smiled and done its best to entice my interest. I imagined that I also looked too small and too ignorant to be a threat of being a harsh owner, and could possibly lead to an easy slave life.
There were several slaves I really liked including two blacks whose cocks and asses really aroused my interest. When each slave was unchained from its podium and brought up to the auction block, I got ready with my card. The card with a number on it that had been registered with my name and credit card
information and/or bank information had been given to me when I had arrived at the auction house, and had been very politely asked if I was there to purchase or to observe for future purchases. I was sure by the time the auction began my credit limit, and my bank account information was all stored away in the
computers. I could bid, but if there was a question if my bid was backed up by purchasing power, I would be quietly asked to provide more information about my ability to buy. I was in the bidding for the white slave who had smiled at me. I was envisioning not only fucking his ass out, but also for correcting his idea
that I was some marshmallow of an owner by using my interest in S&M and B&D to literally whip it into proper respect. However, soon my financial resources were exhausted, and he was sold to two guys - a gay couple - who looked like they might also make its life interesting. They were both dressed in black leather pants, and both had a leather Jimmy Brown belt across their chests. A holder for a salve prod, and a small quirt was attached to their belts. I smiled at the knowledge that the slave would be properly used, abused,
and worked with those two in charge. I also lost out on the second white slave I had wanted, and so went to the two blacks I had selected. I was out after three bids for one, but the last one really seemed to be in
my grasp.
I was bidding and my last bid had not been answered. The auctioneer was doing the "GOING. GOING. GONE" deal, and had just said "...GONE," with his little hammer in the air ready to descend when a guy right behind me outbid me by $10,0000. I was furious. The sneaky bastard had let me almost feel that back body under my use and then snatched it from me. My competitive juices started flowing. The last white slave I had examined was up for sale . I WAS
GOING TO OWN THIS SLAVE!!!! I overbid the guy by another $10,000.
There was a pause while an auction assistant came up to me and very quietly asked, "SIR it seems as if the financial information and credit card limits which you provided earlier will not sustain that bid. I would remind you that to bid beyond your ability to pay is the crime of fraud and you would be subject to criminal prosecution."
I should have paid close attention to theses statements, but I was only intent on outbidding that low down jerk who allowed me to think that slave was mine only to try to snatch him away from me at the last minute. I said rather gruffly, "I have other resources that I did not mention." The assistant smiled and said, "Those resources are available for immediate use I hope as slave purchases must be completed in full at the time of purchase."
I brushed him aside with a quick "Of course!" even though I had not really thought about what I would have available to cover my last bid. I noticed the auction assistant gave me a glare as he was leaving. I thought "Serves you right you snooty bastard." As I said I was not noticing that the expected interaction between buyers and the staff of Dryer and Reinbolt were extremely polite and respectful on both sides. I had clearly violated this protocol with my dismissive and curt comments.
After the pause the bidding resumed, and after the jerk again topped my bid, and I topped his final bid by $5,000. I was smiling and immensely happy with
myself when I heard this time the auctioned say "GOING, GOING, GONE. SOLD TO Bidder 48 for "165,000." I heard the word "SOLD" happily, and then my world crashed and my smile disappeared as I contemplated where would I get $165,000 for the purchase.
PART 3 Triumph and Tragedy (OK, I know I stole this title, but it works)
I noticed that almost immediately the same sales assistant that I had blown off with a cavalier "I have other resources..." earlier came up to me, but this time he was accompanied by two of the facility's security staff. "SHIT, SHIT. SHIT!" I said to myself. The presence of those two muscle goons really did
intimidate me, and I was anxious to solve the problem, grab my overpriced slave and get home and start enjoying my slave. "Don't let them see you look worried, and for God's sake don't let them smell panic sweat on you!" I counseled myself.
Now he was standing just in front of me. "SIR, would you like to accompany me to the sales office to complete the sale. In the meantime are there any special orders for the outfitting of your slave, SIR? SIR we offer a complete line of branding, cinching, tattooing, and restraining services. "
I did not know what any of those special services might cost, but right now I just needed to figure out what they thought I owed over the financial resources I had provided for them earlier. With the sales assistant in a slight lead, but still somewhat beside me, I was being led toward a series of offices. We went by several cubicles with open doorways and in each I saw a familiar layout of a desk with computer and shelves with binders, and two chairs in front of the desk.
We did not stop for any of these, Instead we headed for one of the offices almost out of the sales room itself. These offices did not have the open
archways to the sales floor, but instead the sales associate took out a key and unlocked the solid steel door to an office which was much larger, but much less nicely furnished than those we had passed. In this office there was a steel desk and two heavy steel framed chairs.
I would guess the room was about 10 by 14 feet. I was not sure, but I think that the door was on the south side of the room. The desk and chair were on the north east corner with the chairs facing the north wall and the long side of the desk parallel to that north wall. In addition to the desk and two chairs there was a bookcase with the binders as in the other rooms, but there was also a closed steel utility cabinet that seemed about 48 inches wide and at least 18 inches deep. On the north wall behind the desk were two large posters
of two slaves, naked except for their collars, smiling at the clothed man holding a leash to their collars. Over the two pictures was a slogan painted on the wall "THE PREECT COMPANION FOR EVERY SUCCESSFUL MAN IS HIS OBEDIENT AND HAPPY SLAVE."
I momentarily lost myself in the pictures imagining myself with my new slave on his leash walking obediently behind me and with a happy smile on his face carrying my purchases to my slave powered car with all my friends looking on with admiring and envious glances as my slave showed my success and power.
On the west side of the room was what almost looked like a TV set for Judge Judy or one of those court shows. There was a raised bench and dark blue velvet like drapes behind it. The desk was facing the east wall. In front of the bench, there were two small tables each with one chair under it. I noted that if I were over there I would want the desk and chair nearer the north wall as it was more padded and looked like a fairly nice desk chair. The chair at the other desk was like the ones to which I was being guided, heavy steel framed, and with a plastic seat . I also noted that the steel chair there and also the one to which I was being guided also had several steel "D" rings through the steel frame on the legs and along the sides of the back.
The sales associate noted my interest in the "D" rings and with his usual used-car salesman smile said "These are security chairs. We can take them to any place, and by dropping a chain through a stack of them transport them securely, and also make sure no chair every strays away." The last phrase about straying away was accompanied by the worst fake laugh I had ever heard. My personal thought was that NO ONE would ever want these ugly and heavy chairs, and any one would be crazy to try to steal something so heavy. A stack of them could not be moved with out a forklift it seemed to me. Anyway, I sat down, and the assistant went to the other side and sat down in what could have been the companion to the desk chair over at the courtroom set.
"Now Mr. Wilson, " the assistant said in a smug and condescending tone, " our analysis of the financial information you provided us when you came in indicates that you had $150,000 in liquid assets that you could use for the purchase of one of our well trained and superior slave properties. Could you now provide
the information about those additional resources you mentioned when I cautioned you during the bidding? I might add Mr. Wilson that the bidding warning is a legal requirement for us to make sure that a bidder knows that we believe that he has reached the end of his resources. It is also required that we at that time point out the severe penalties of not fulfilling the contract of purchase should your bid be declared the winning bid. Would you mind signing this document stating that you were given these cautions. I would mention that these cautions are also recorded on our voice and video monitors of the sales floor."
As I sat there, I hoped smiling confidently, he added with a supercilious tone that was especially condescending and irritating, "And I might add that all of us at Dryer and Reinbolt were extremely impressed at the depth of your financial resources. Most buyers have had to work their way up to a one of our superior slave properties by using the values of lesser slave to finally achieve the best."
I immediately thought of the cruel turn of fate that had led me into this slave auction house. I did not know one from another, and I only had come into this one because it was closest to where I had gotten off the public slave-powered bus. "SHIT, SHIT, SHIT" was again my litany to myself about how I had gotten this mess.
I tried to sound, look, and feel confident as I replied "If you will just let me go and use the phone I am sure that I can arrange the extra $15,000 in a few minutes,"
"Our policies do not allow this type of call Mr. Wilson, but if you will give me the name and number of the source of the funds, I will be happy to make the contact for you." my salesperson again oozed.
"If you call my bank, I am sure that they will be \happy to extend me this much credit," I said keeping my voice deep as possible as well as confident as possible.
"That's fine I have the bank's number right here. Is there any person in particular I should ask for? Perhaps the name of your personal banker? " he once again simpered. I knew that the crack about the personal banker was another insult and that he was sure I was some deadbeat jerk who should never have had the temerity to enter their door and bid for one of their "superior slave properties." Like I would be wealthy enough to have a personal banker. I though for a moment and remembered that I had discussed some investments with Tom Scott at the bank, and he had briefly looked at my financial data as a part of that general discussion. I silently prayed he would remember that conversation and ok the loan. I silently tried to send him mental message that if he would make the loan I would take every penny I could and
invest it with him to my dieing day. "Yes," I said. "Ask of Tom Scott."
"Hello, First United National Bank and Trust? May I be connected with Mr. Tom Scott please? Thanks." Mr. Oil Can Harry, my nickname for the sales slime, said with a decidedly more pleasant tome than he had been using with me. I decided again to ask for the phone so that I might have the opportunity to beg if necessary. "Would you mind letting me have the phone please. I am sure that this can be arranged much more easily and quickly if I talk to Tom directly." I reached across the desk to take the phone.
I immediately heard and then felt the goons at my back. I had not realized they were in the room at the back, but they made their presence known immediately. One grabbed my shoulders and brought it tightly against the chair back, and the other took my arm and removed it from the desk and placed it on the chair
armrest. With furious scorn Oil Can snarled "Mr. Wilson at Dryer and Reinbolt we DO NOT put up the client's exhibiting this type of rude and inappropriate behavior. I must insist on your word Mr. Wilson that you will not try to wrench the phone from me again."
I was almost in shock. I had never been so quickly and so thorough man handled in my whole life. With ease and efficiency I was put in my place. Goons these two might be, but quick and skillful goons they were. "Yes SIR. I will not try to take the phone again." I managed to get out. This time I knew I sounded
like a young boy caught in the act of some terrible crime by his parents. " I was merely trying to make this
transaction as quick and easy as possible. I did not mean anything by it." I whined.
"Now, Mr. Scott, this is Mr. Braddock Thornhill of Dryer and Reinbolt, and we have a Mr. Wilson here who seems to have overextended himself a bit in the purchase of a slave and is in need of some credit from your bank." I could not hear the other side of the conversation, but Oil Can nodded and to me most
frighteningly smiled on a couple of occasions. Oil Can spoke up again with the same chilling false concern and sincerity in his voice, "I am glad to hear that you consider Mr. Wilson such a good credit risk." I momentarily took a more secure breath, and I even seemed to detect a slight alleviation of the force
being applied by the goon squad keeping me in place. "However, SIR" Oil Can continued, and I sensed trouble as I looked at Oil Can smiling at me, "You should be aware that to achieve his payment of $150,000 Mr. Wilson has already expended the bank account you mentioned as well as his stock holding
and even maxing out two credit cards, his American Express and his Master Card. I believe that it would not be ethical for me not to let you know about this change in Mr. Wilson's assets." I tried to inject a comment here about the $50,000 bonus I had been promised as soon as the new slave power people mover
went into production. "SIR" I said in my best imitation of pleasant friendliness, "I am expecting..."
At this point Oil Can looked at the goon squad, and said into the phone "One moment please. There is a bit of a irritating distraction here in the office." Oil Can pressed the receiver into his sport jacket, and hissed "Mr. Wilson, if you insist on interrupting my conversation, I am within my rights to have you muzzled." I opened my mouth and got out the word "But.." when goon number one forced my head back, and goon two inserted a flat leather covered tongue like thing into my mouth. As it was pushed further into my mouth my tongue was completely covered and forced into submission by the leather invader. The
operation was completed quickly by the leather straps from the oval leather slightly curved flat peace into which the tongue was attached were brought around my head and tightly fastened behind my head. As I reacted with shock at being gagged I also felt my wrists being encircled by leather which was also tightly buckled shut. Then one final strap was buckled across my chest. I tried to yell that they were illegally restraining me as a free man just like a slave. However, the only sound that all this indignation actually produced was some unintelligible animal sounds. As I fumed my bondage was completed by my ankles being attached to the front legs of the chair. I now knew what the heavy steel and "D" rings were really for - completely attaching a person to this chair.
With the first sincere smile I had seem from Oil Can he removed the phone from his clutch against his chest, and said "Mr. Scott, my apologies for the delay, but the disturbance in the office has been taken care of. " There was some more conversation on the phone and then with the most satisfied beam Oil Can spoke
again in clear calm and satisfied tones, "No Mr. Scott we at Dryer and Rienbolt are not aware of any more potential income that Mr. Wilson may have." After another pause, I heard the most horrible words I could imagine. Oil Can intoned solemnly "Thank you Mr. Scott, but it is not necessary to send a letter of
commendation to my employers on my behalf for saving you from making what would have turned out to be an unsecured $15,000 loan to an individual who probably could not afford to keep the slave he most obviously also could not afford to buy. " After a small pause Oil Can concluded the conversation with "Well if you insist SIR, that would be most gracious." and he hung up the phone.
With a smile he looked at me still making muffled noises about my bonus and my indignation at being restrained, and intoned with not even disguised contempt. "You are entitled to supply the names of two other persons that I must contact to try to raise the money. You have five minutes to supply these two names. I have a timer here, and I will set it to five minutes. " At this point I was in true hysteria. I thrashed about and yelled as much as I could.
Finally after two minutes had passed as he watched my fruitless attempts to move, Oil Can said "Oh! Mr. Wilson I am sorry. I seem to have overlooked that you are not in a position to respond. If you promise to behave I will have my assistants to remove your one hand from the restraint and you will be given a pen on which to write the names and the phone numbers of two other individuals that you wish me to contact to obtain the money you need. I must also tell you that everything that happens in this room is video taped, and will be available for the court to see that EVERYTHING (his emphasis) was done according to the law." It was done, and I wrote the name of one of my colleagues and my parents on the paper. As soon as I had written the names, my wrist was immediately reattached to the chair
There is little need to make a big deal of what followed. Oil Can was skilled and was able to have my friend from work refuse to pay the money. He put the phone call to my parents on a speaker phone as he was very sure of himself at this point. My Father answered and laughed when told of my predicament. "Well you tell Johnny that his Mother and I are going on an around the world cruise, and we'll see him a year from now. Oh yes, thank him for the money he sends us. That's what we are using for the trip, and unfortunately that has left us with little in the bank account to help out with this little problem. We let the bank know that as soon as Johnny's checks equal $15,000 that they are
to send that to him. And also tell him congrats for joining the ranks of society's elete - the slave owning class." I heard the dial tone indicating that he had hung up. Poor Dad. He did not understand that there would be NO Johnny Wilson by the time he and my mom returned from the trip, and also no checks that
had been accumulating. Johnny would be declared legally dead, and in his place a slave would be born.