Anica's Annual Auction

It was 8:30 PM, thirty minutes from closing, and Ian sat at his work station in the kitchen design studio where he worked, a portion of a long counter facing out toward the showroom. His place at the end in the corner by the wall was a perk of his rank as assistant manager and it allowed him to the turn his computer screen at such an angle that it could not be seen by others. It was a slow evening and he was passing the time by viewing videos depicting his secret longing, to be dominated and enslaved by an iron willed, cruel and lustful woman. It had inhibited his love life for all his 23 years. A handsome, sandy haired, blue eyed and muscular young specimen, he dated and had sex often. But the woman of his fantasies eluded him and no relationships formed of the nature he longed for. He had pretty much concluded women "like that" were just the figment of his fantasies and he would spend his life unfulfilled. And he wondered too if he would really want to suffer the extreme pain and degradation he fantasized about such women inflicting on him.

He made a quick last check of his email and there was an urgent message about an issue on a cabinet installation that would require his attention first thing in the morning. But he had to find the blueprint and that meant going down to hands and knees under the counter to dig it out from the jumbled pile of them he kept there. As he ducked under he heard the click of heels on the tile floor, the sound of someone approaching. He continued rummaging among the pile of prints until he heard a woman speak.

"Excuse me young man! I require your assistance."

Her voice was low pitched and imperious in its tone with a distinct eastern European accent. He peered up over the edge of the counter and was pierced by a pair of steel blue eyes set in a face with a fixed expression of arrogant certainty of command. Her hair was coal black, tied back severely in a ponytail that fell half down her back. Heavy dark brows arched over her eyes, her nose was aquiline, cheekbones high, mouth wide and full lipped, chin strong and jutting. She was of a mature age but timeless in her beauty.

Her gaze seemed to lock into him and he rose to his feet to face her, still finding himself looking up at her even when he stood to his full six-foot height. She wore a long black leather coat that fell to mid-thigh and black stiletto boots that came to her knees. Black fishnet stocking filled the space between. Her hands were large and strong looking but finely manicured, long nails, blood red, filed to sharp points. In one of those hands she held a cabinet drawer with guides dangling loose due to missing screws.

He found himself sweating and trembling, and feeling a growing bulge in his pants, but managed to stammer: "Good evening...madam. How can I help you?"

"I need this drawer repaired. It will require you to come to my house."

He swallowed, mouth dry. "Well, I'm sorry but we don't do repair work like that. We do design work, sales and installation. I can see that isn't even a product we sell so we really have no obligation to become involved."

"Do you know how to fix this?"

"Yes but..."

"Then why won't you do this for me?"

"It...it's just not what we do here. I'm sorry I can't help you but...

"You will help me and you will do it this evening! I am expecting guests tomorrow and I can't have my kitchen in such a state. When do you close?"

"Nine o'clock but still..."

She held out a business card. "Here is my address and my phone number. I will expect you by 9:30. I can see to it there will be consequences if you do not come and even if you are late! Now give me your card as well!"

He fumbled in the card holder on his desk with shaking hands, dropping several cards on the floor before he managed to pick one up and hand it to her. She turned on her heel and left. Ian plopped down in his chair red faced, taking deep breaths to calm himself. She was an apparition born of his every fantasy and he wondered if she had been real or had he lapsed into some wild waking dream? But there, still in his hand, was her card. He looked at it. Her name was Anica Dimitru.

After a few minutes, he regained his composure and laughed about the incident and at himself. He decided she was nothing but a bitch and a nuisance and he wasn't about to waste his time with her problem, intriguing though she was. He dismissed his excitement over her as the product of his own imagination. He was sure none of the fantasies he already had about her would ever come true. But he put her card in his pocket.

As manager on duty he was last to leave and locked up at about 10 minutes after 9. As he walked to his card his cell phone rang. He looked at the screen and saw her name on it. With a sigh, he answered and heard that iron voice again. It gave him goose bumps and shivers and he felt the stirring in his pants once more.

"I trust I can expect you to be punctual Ian. I hope you were not so foolish as to dismiss me."

He took a deep breath and grimaced in resignation. "Yes. Okay. I'll be there. Fifteen minutes."

Her house was in an outlying neighborhood, hilly with large wooded lots. He found her driveway at the base of a steep slope with large trees overhanging. The drive was winding and dark. He reached the house, a brooding old stone Victorian mansion with a large attached double garage to its left, obviously a later addition to the old house. The door rolled up as he approached and he saw the right parking space was empty, the left being occupied by a large black Mercedes limo. He took it as a cue and drove inside. The door closed.

There was an entrance door in the center of the wall adjoining the house and he knocked. He heard the click of her bootheels as she came to the door and opened it, withering him with her steely glare again. She wore a fine black silk robe tied off at the waist and the same boots as earlier.

"You're late!"

He glanced at his phone: 9:01 and stammered an apology despite finding her unreasonable. She sniffed in contempt.

"You'll be even more sorry if you don't get my drawer fixed promptly. Follow me!"

She led him to the kitchen, vast, elegant and with the finest in dark cherry cabinetry and stainless appliances. The broken drawer was in the bottom of the cabinet next to the sink. He knelt, bowing low to look inside the cabinet and inspect it and she stood close, her booted feet just arm's length before him. A thrill of excitement went up his spine from kneeling at her feet that way and he glanced up furtively to see her towering above him with a stern and impatient expression.

The problem with the drawer was simple, just some screws that had worked loose. He excused himself to go to the car and get his cordless drill. He had to lie belly down to reach inside the cabinet and drill a few holes and drive a few screws. She stood close by as before, watching intently.

He finished working inside the cabinet and fastened the loose guides onto the drawer and slid it back into the cabinet, running it back and forth to be sure it worked smoothly. As he did so he caught a sweeping motion from the corner of his eye and felt a puff of air across his face. He knelt upright and looked up at her, seeking her approval of his work, gasped in shock and reeled back a few feet from her.

The motion and the puff of air had come from her shedding her robe. She stood naked save for boots, stockings and garters and a belt from which hung a short, nasty looking whip and some manacles. In her hand was a chain dog leash. His jaw dropped and he stared, sweat breaking out all over him. Her naked form was regal, resplendent, her skin creamy white, her figure full, broad shoulders, heavy firm breasts, narrow waist, shapely hips and comely thighs framing the dense wedge of bristling raven hair at her loins.

He retreated further. "Ms. Dimitru! Please! I think I'd better go now! The drawer is fine and..."

Her hot steely gaze skewered him and a knowing smile came to her face.

"Do not pretend Ian! You know you want this. You have always wanted this. I knew you wanted it the moment we met. I knew you better than you know yourself the first time I looked in your eyes. You are the kind of man I seek out and my instincts are infallible when it comes to the likes of you. Admit it to yourself and strip naked! Now!"

He knelt there with mouth open, mouthing words without sound. She took the whip in hand and her glare grew menacing.

"Well. Must I persuade you or do you accept the truth?"

He sagged in surrender. Though his heart hammered in his fear he knew in his depths he longed to yield to this goddess who had come into his life from nowhere and let her do with him as she pleased. He cast off all mooring from the life he knew.

"Yes. I accept it. I'm scared of what you will do to me but I am yours."

He had his shirt unbuttoned before he even realized he was doing it and he dropped it to the floor. Next his hands went to his belt buckle, shaking all the while but seeming driven by a will apart from his. He dropped pants and shorts to his bent knees, then sat back onto the floor feeling the cold chill of the tile on his naked behind. He leaned over to untie his shoes and kicked them off, then slipped from his pants and rose to kneel once more, straight up at attention. To his shame, he found himself erect, a pulsing stiffness. Unseen by him, a glistening dribble oozed from the tip of his cock to form a small puddle on the floor.

She looked at his organ with contemptuous amusement and let out a cackling laugh, then slid open a trash bin in the cabinet beside her.

"Put your wallet, car keys and phone on the counter and put your clothing in here. You will have no further need for clothing-ever! And then you will lick up that little mess your filthy penis made on my floor."

He knee-walked across the space between them to the bin, finding his face inches from her bristling cunt, catching faint whiffs of its animal perfume. The sight and scent of it made the room seem to spin as he stuffed his clothes into the receptacle. Then she grabbed him by the ear and showed him the puddle of pre-cum he had spilled and pushed his face down to make him lick it up.

She slid the bin shut and grabbed his hair, shoved his head down, bending him over while she cuffed his hands, then clamped irons onto his legs as well. Stepping into the small space between him and the counter she dug her bootheel into his side and jabbed him with it.

"Roll over on your back! Now!"

He leaned to the side and she helped him roll over with more sharp heel jabs, then bent over him and attached the buckled leather strap at the end of the leash around his balls, yanked it tight and closed the buckle. It spread his balls apart and stretched his scrotum tight and shiny. There were sharp spikes inside the leather that dug painfully into his sack.

"You have made the wise choice Ian. Your surrender will spare you much pain but not all of it. Let us proceed now to the chamber. There is yet ample time this evening to begin your training. On your feet and follow!"

He struggled to his feet and she turned to lead him down a long hallway. Her legs and her strides were long and the chain on his leg irons short, forcing him to hobble in haste to keep up with her, sometimes stumbling. She was impatient with his slowness and gave hard yanks on the leash to urge him along, the cruel spikes digging deep. They passed through an elegantly furnished, high ceilinged living room and the through a door at its end that opened onto the landing of a wide, spiral stone stairway that wrapped around a central column perhaps forty feet in diameter. She proceeded down the steps at a brisk pace, forcing him to hop from step to step until they did a full 360 turn and the stairs ended at a heavy, iron bound wooden door.

She threw the bolt, the door swung inward and she reached for a switch just inside it and flipped it. The switch ignited gas torches set in pockets in the wall that bathed the stone lined, circular chamber in a warm yet ominous, amber glow. The room was perhaps forty feet across. A hoist hung from the ceiling in the center. Other furnishings of varying descriptions were arranged here and there, most having restraints attached. On hooks mounted in the wall were whips and canes and other instruments he could not identify. Straight across from the door was a black leather throne set on a two-step dais.

Anica tugged him across the room, made him kneel before the throne at the foot of the dais, then stepped up to seat herself. He cringed, looking around the room, knowing it to be a place of punishment and torture. He glanced up at Anica, then cast his eyes down again. She spoke.

"Look at me Ian!"

He raised his eyes and saw her sitting upright, back straight, with legs parted, revealing the ragged dangling folds of her labia. His eyes were riveted there. She laughed, but not unkindly.

"Look up here Ian. At my face. You will see plenty of that down there by and by. Before your training begins I must get to know you better and explain your situation and status in the world of which you have now become a part. Do you want to please me Ian?"

"Oh yes! So much...Ms. Dimitru. I've dreamed of a woman like you for so long."

"You may call me Mistress Ian. And what are you willing to do to please me?"

"Anything! Anything Mistress..."

"Anything Ian? You say that word but I doubt you realize what it means. I don't think you know the depths of submission that will be required to truly please and satisfy me. Every day slaves perform acts for my pleasure that I am sure will horrify you until, once you are trained, you will be performing them yourself and loving it and loving me."

He just knelt there nodding, trying to take it all in.

"Would you like to give me pleasure Ian?"

"Yes! Please!"

She raised her knees and draped them over the arms of the chair, offering herself lewd as woman can.

"Come up here then. No doubt your fantasies involved the use of your tongue."

This left no doubt of her wishes and he groveled up the dais, barking a shin in his haste to reach her. But when he drew near she grabbed his hair and held his face inches from her hairy, aromatic sex. He strained forward, extending his tongue. It protruded to a length Anica had yet to see from any of the numerous males she had enslaved. This excited and intrigued her but she kept her cunt just out of his tongue's reach and laughed again.

"Ah! You crave it, don't you? Excellent! Now back away a bit and look at it."

She put a hand to his forehead and pressed him backward half a foot and he ran his eyes up and down drinking in the sight of her protuberant clitoris, her jagged labia fringed by thick raven pubes, the oozing maw of her vagina, the twitching pinkish brown pucker of her anus. He shuddered in longing but held his place as she spoke to him.

"What you see before you now Ian is to become the center of your universe. What is here between my legs is the source of varied and exquisite pleasures for me and for all women and it will be your duty to provide those pleasures. Great skill, finesse and endurance will be necessary on your part so your training will be rigorous. Your tongue must become a tireless instrument and always ready to serve."

"You must understand Ian that you are but one of many who has knelt before me this way. In case you wondered, there are many women like myself though we are a secretive lot and share a close knit, though informal, sisterhood. My role is the acquisition and training of suitable slaves to meet the needs and desires of my kindred spirits. I am a woman of significant wealth and a major source of income for me is the sale of such slaves as you have now become."

"In the course of your training you will come to adore me as a goddess and long for every moment you will spend with me in profound intimacies with my body. To me you will be nothing more than another slave, a source of pleasure in the short run and income in the long run. I break and train slaves in lots of a dozen to be sold at auction once a year. You are the twelfth slave of the current lot and the auction will be held sixty days from now after you have been trained and my clientele has a chance to sample my wares."

"You are probably foolish enough to think your efforts to please me will make you special somehow and I will want to keep you rather than sell you. This will be most unlikely though I do keep one special slave for my very own, a slave who I happened to find especially pleasing after I lured him into my clutches several years ago. You may try to supplant him if you wish. Your efforts will add much to my pleasure, though I daresay they will most likely be futile. I base my decisions about this solely on that pleasure. My current slave has supplanted the one who came before him and there have been numerous others over time. I am not a young woman. Some lasted years, others just weeks or months."

"I come from a part of the world where women have kept men in their proper place for time immemorial. To those who dwell there it is axiomatic that Woman is a supreme and exalted being and man is an inferior semi-human fit only to submit, obey, give pleasure and do brute labor. I was a restless young woman and left home seeking adventure. I was delighted to find many women of like mind out here in the wider world. You will now take your proper place in our world."

"But enough talk. You may taste me now. Slip your tongue into my vagina first and lick upward."

She removed her hand from his forehead, allowing him to lean in and press his face into the lush wet crevice. Ian had thought his adoration of her already limitless but at the first touch of his tongue to her it took a quantum leap. The medley of scent and taste, the salt of her vaginal ooze, her feral musk, the piquancy of the piss that clung dried in her pubes made his mind and world reel and he felt himself falling into bottomless depths of worship.

He drew back to take another lapping stroke and she held his hair in her and guided him, setting the pace that pleased her. It was a familiar delight for her but one of which she never tired, feeling yet another slave fall into the depths of her thrall at first taste. Like all of them his efforts were clumsy and untutored but she felt an adoring hunger from him that made up for all. And she sensed that this one might truly be rare and special. Just a minute or so of his attentions peaked her arousal and her body cried out for release. With her free hand, she used her fingers to part her labia and held him away, drawing his attention to the swollen pink orb that pulsed in its longing for his tongue.

"Do you see it there Ian? My clit? Lick it now! Hard! Make me come!"

She put her hand behind his head and pressed him forward, then grabbed his forelock and worked his face up and down as he set his tongue to her with a passion. Orgasm struck her by surprise, a rare thing for one so jaded as she, and a wail of ecstasy was torn from her depths and she felt herself gush. She convulsed, cried out again and softened, legs flopping limp over his shoulders, leaving him with face buried in her sated cunt as she basked in afterglow.

Ian was in heaven as he knelt there feeling the wet of her lush tissues, the tickle of her bush and the soft clutch of her strong silken thighs. Upon her climax a spout of her salty-sweet juice had filled his mouth and he had gulped it down with the thirst of one lost in the desert. He could feel its effect within him, a euphoria setting in and a thirst for more he knew would never be quenched.

For her part, Anica's world tilted on its axis and she felt a tenderness welling up that uneased her. She reached down to pet his head softly but recovered her will and instead shoved him away in a show of contempt and minimization. He glanced up at her but then bowed his head.