WILD PUPS SALE 6. WALLY: HANDS-ON MEANS FELT UP

My plan for the rest of the story at this time:

Chapter 7 will be Russell's experience on the display floor. Chapters 8, 9, and 10 will be the experiences of each of the boys once their new owners take possession and turn them into full-fledged slaveboys.

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It was bad enough being placed on display at the Gaytown Slave Hall, but they made a point to place the three of us in the window right on Main Street. The street was already crowded with gawkers early in the morning when each of us was shackled to our own platform, hands cuffed behind us and chained to our collars.

I was wearing the same pair of white briefs I'd worn the day before to go to school, my fully-erect cock sticking over the waistband of the underpants. I knew the boner wasn't my fault. They'd implanted a chip on my prostate to keep my erect. But it was still my humiliation to be stiff when my father came to see me, trailed by my little brother.

"Aww, geez, Wally, I didn't wanna see your stiffy," the pipsqueak squawked.

Automatically I whined, "Da-a-a-ad, does he havta be here?"

Before my father could say anything one of the guards had pressed an electric slave prod to the crack of my ass. My body quaked and my legs wobbled. I only stayed standing because of the shackles on my ankles. My dad said, "Please, sir, was that really necessary?"

The guard was very polite and replied, "Sir, this boy was legally indentured by the courts. You know we must take our indenture system seriously or we will have chaos. You do not do a favor to a newly-indentured boy when you let his protocol slip. Slaveboys should refer to everyone as sir."

"Yes, sir," I said, bowing my head. "Thank you, sir. Sorry, sir."

Meanwhile, my little brother was prattling on about, "Yeh, I havta be here, Wally. You're my one and only big brother and you're gonna be away and I at least have a right to say goodbye to you, don't you think?"

Fuck, now that I was a slaveboy, I couldn't even show anger toward any free men, not even my dumb kid brother. I wish I had punched that kid in the face and told him to shut up back when I was still a free boy. My father was pontificating, telling me some story from when he was a boy that led into another story about something he learned from the army, that kind of bullshit that I couldn't even follow.

Then my father's big hand slapped my butt through the white briefs. Next thing, the briefs were pulled down in back. My father swatted my ass with his large hand four more times in succession. My mouth was open but I couldn't even make a sound.

Two guards came forward and said, "And now we have trouble with this one, also." I knew what they meant. Russell's father had been angry with the football player for the boy's criminal indenture, which meant no money for their family. Now my father was expressing his anger toward my tender ass.

My father wasn't the sort to make a scene and he didn't really want to punish me. He just wanted them to listen to his tale of woe. He had already been saying how many offers he had gotten to buy me for a five-year contract. But he'd agreed that if I kept my grades at B+ or above, he would send me to college rather than auction.

He came right up to me and ranted, "If only I hadn't helped you on that big science project, you would've been below a B+ and I could've taken that offer from Fred Rutherford." Then dad gave one more really hard slap to my cheeks.

My little brother looked frightened as dad ushered him out. Dad put his hand on Theodore's shoulder and said, "You don't have to worry. Wally is the one with the cute ass and adorable face." I was just glad he hadn't brought my mom inside. She had fainted in the parking lot.

When they opened the ropes for select clientele I heard the undeniable voice of Eddie, the skinny boy who was a jerk and a slimeball, but who was also my best friend. He was grinning up at me as his hand massaged my penis through the fabric of my white underpants. When Eddie had slept over years earlier he tried to jerk my cock through my briefs, but I wouldn't let him. Now, his handjob was the least of my troubles.

"So, who's the homo now, Wally?" Eddie said in that smartass way of his. His words made no sense. I was enslaved and forced to display myself in chains. He was the one feeling up my cock. I just nodded and said, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He laughed loud like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"You like being displayed for homos so much that you got a boner, Wally. That has to be proof positive that you're queer." I wanted to tell him that my cock was stiff because the auction house had inserted a prostate stimulator. But all I could say was, "Thank you, sir."

Then he hung out as all these high-class men came around feeling me up and prodding my body. He was eager to tell each of them that he was my best buddy when I had been a free boy. And then he asked each of the men whether -- if they bought me -- they'd like to see "the slaveboy's former free best buddy fuck him in the mouth?"

The guard came over and warned Eddie that he was annoying the clients. As they escorted him out of the cordoned off area, he called back, "This place is a gyp. I know they gotta keep his asshole cherry for his new owners, but they should let guys try out his mouth. I mean, look how soft and nice those lips look. I've been dreaming about ramming my boner between those lips for years." Eddie's last remark really caught me off guard.

Later on I saw Eddie return with two other guys from school, but the crowd around me was thick right then, so they were pestering Cody and Russell.

I had noticed the gay boys from school taunting Russell, but then they came over to me. The chubby gay boy ran his fingers gently over my chest and stomach. "Oh, Cyril, isn't Wally just as sexy in his tighty whities as you knew he would be?"

Cyril, the leader of this little queer clique, put on a glove and started to work his finger up into my virgin asshole. I grunted and tried to take it, but it was all so new to me. "Idunno," the effeminate boy sighed. "If I'm gonna bring a slaveboy to the gay frat at Bush University, I want a boy I can humiliate and degrade. Wally was always so... well, so decent and nice to us at school. He never acted like an asshole the way Russell did."

I never realized before that the chubby gay boy had a crush on me, but now his hands were touching my body all over. "Yes, but imagine having a straight slaveboy you could kiss and cuddle and make love with."

Cyril sighed and worked his finger around in my anus. "I can't deny that fingering his tight little ass has given me quite a boner. But, let's see how the bidding goes." Then the gay boys were gone.

Almost immediately I was aware of my classmate Lumpy pulling on both my nipples. The big heavyset bully was flanked by his father, who was focused on the information displayed on the kiosk beside my platform. "Daddy, you promised me a slave to take away to college. Buy me Wally and I'll never ask for anything else, daddy."

"This is an awfully expensive toy for a college freshmen," his equally shapeless father said looking down over his glasses.

"Wally was already being pledged by the big sports frat at Bush U, daddy. I bet if I could bring Wally as my slaveboy, the sports frat would pledge me."

Mr. Rutherford shook his head. "Clarence, the sports frat only pledges jocks. You've never played first string in any sport, son."

"Yeah, but there's three guys from the football team in my homeroom, daddy. Three!" Lumpy looked down defeated. The only thing he hated more than being called Lumpy was being called by his real first name, Clarence.

The older man ignored his whining son and forced my mouth open, checking my gums and teeth. He was a professional and knew what to look for. "Ward was so damn arrogant. I offered him a good price for Wally. Then I raised my bid. But he didn't want to see his son serving as an indentured servant. Well, too bad for him."

Mr. Rutherford put on a plastic glove and worked his finger up the leghole of my briefs and into my asshole. I felt him moving his finger around in such a way that my hard cock leaked. I gasped when I felt him inserting a second finger into my bottom.

"Sir," a guard cautioned. "We don't want the boy stretched out in advance of his sale."

The fat bald man fingering my hole smirked, "I'm a professional and I know what I'm doing. Believe me this virgin teen butthole will not be stretched out by one minute of fingerfucking on my part."

"Daddy, pleeeeeez," Lumpy moaned. "Look at Wally's face. I so want to sit on that cute face."

Mr. Rutherford looked me up and down and snorted, "So do I, son. So do I."

The rest of the day was a blur. I don't know how many in the crowd were serious about buying me and how many had just come to humiliate a straight teenager. The guard threw out a gay guy who had one finger up my asshole while he was jerking off his exposed cock with his free hand. Other men who groped their erections in their pants as they felt me up were not kicked out.

One large black man examined me intimately and chatted with his entourage, all well-dressed black men. "You know I never attend wild pup sales. I don't have the patience or time to train a freshy-indentured boy. I like to get my slaves fully trained and ready to obey me."

"But the virgin ass...?"

"Yes, of course," the black man said. "There are dealers who will train a boy, including teaching him how to give a man pleasure with his mouth, but leave the boy's ass cherry."

"You really trust them?" another of his buddies chuckled. "They make money peddling the boy's butthole, then use a cream to make sure the boy is all tight again for the next dick to think he's cherry."

The large man had pulled my white briefs down to my knees and had a gloved finger working its way up my anus. He said, "Yes, that's the appeal of a boy like this. I know that 24 hours ago he was still a free boy, a straight teen jock. So it's likely he's never had his cherry popped."

His other hand grabbed my face and forced me to look at him as he asked, "If I had you on a table dressed in these tighty whities in the middle of a gay sex orgy..." He thought for a moment, then continued, "And all the men there wanted to stuff their fat black cocks into you from both ends, how would you like that, slaveboy?"

My mouth was moving, but I couldn't say anything. Finally I got out the words, "P-please, sir, I don't know how to answer that question, sir."

"Permission to speak, slaveboy. What's your problem in answering my question?"

This would be the first time today I'd said more than "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." I swallowed hard and said, "Sir, because I wouldn't like having cocks stuffed into me, sir. I wouldn't even like playing with cocks. But as a slaveboy... well, as a slaveboy I would have to do as my Master ordered, sir."

The large man slapped me on the butt and said, "I don't like Wild Pup Sales, boy. I don't usually like Wild Pups. But when I saw footage of you online last night, some of it showing you in your tight baseball uniform that clings to these ass cheeks, I knew I had to check you out, Wally." Then he laughed in the most evil way as he walked away, saying to his colleagues, "That boy is just so cute I have to have him." My stomach did flips as I pictured myself enslaved in the middle of an orgy of black gay men.

Interspersed with the gays there were boys from school. I thought I had been well-liked by the guys. But apparently there were many who resented me for my cute face or my athletic abilities. One skinny boy with glasses whose name I'd never known was jerking on my cock so hard it made my balls ache, but he kept on giggling as he asked a guard, "You mean that band behind his balls will keep him from being able to cum no matter how hard and fast I jerk his dick?"

Many hours passed before there was an announcement inviting guests into the theater for the actual auction. All three of us were unshackled from our platforms and each led to the backstage area of the theater by a guard. Since we had spent the day in a cordoned off area at the front of the auction house, I hadn't realized how many boys were going on the bloc that day.

# # TO BE CONTINUED

for comments or compliments r -- e -- d -- b -- e -- a -- r -- d -- e -- d -- s -- f at y a h o o dot com

If you enjoy this story (and ones like it) SUPPORT NIFTY! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html