I had agreed to this. Why?
I’m a slut, an exhibitionist, that’s why.
Very few know my secret, but he caught me out.
My high-profile career is on the line.
Now I’m buying his silence.
I’m paying the price. His price.
A slave auction, with only one exhibit. Me.
In the spotlight, one small tug and the robe falls to reveal my naked, oiled body. He turns me around slowly for all to view; large, full breasts, erect dark nipples, perfectly shaved pussy, long legs, full rounded butt.
The air in the male-dominated room is thick with the smell of arousal, and sounds of approval throng the air. The bids begin. My only barrier has been removed. My face is revealed. I know I am stunningly beautiful. My hair flows past my shoulders, flame-red, hinting at the passion burning inside. My green eyes are sparkling with mischief and anticipation. I slowly lick my generous lips. I am the epitome of a Celtic Goddess. Modesty is an unknown feeling to me. The price shoots higher.
I am their slave for one night, one night only. There are no boundaries. No rules. My body is tingling with anticipation and desire. They have all the power over me, yet I feel the power of my beauty and sexuality is supreme. What man will not succumb to my charms and wiles? No man has ever refused my wishes.
The room is in darkness. I cannot see their faces; only the voices can be distinguished. The price has reached £2000.
My vanity and pride soar with the bids. A night of abandoned sex with a man of means, perhaps some physical chastisement, I enjoy being spanked; some restraints will add a frisson of danger. Buying silence is not too great a price to pay.
The clock is ticking. There are only seconds left for one final bid.
£2,500! Sold!
The final bid is female!
