Exhibition Time

It was pitch dark. It usually was. She had little idea how time passed; the clock was a distant memory, and she didn't know how long she had been here--how long it had been since she was sold. The only thing she had to measure time was her digestive system, which predicted meal and bathroom times.

She became aroused the moment she heard the lock click. It hardly mattered anymore what the occasion was--a hosing, brushing, inspection, exhibition--she was no longer afraid. She welcomed anything that broke the monotony of the nonexistence in the darkness; she welcomed any attention, any touch, anything that proved she actually existed.

She stiffened up and did her best to see the door open, but the bindings that bound her hands and feet to the floor made it difficult; the best view she could get was by lifting herself onto all fours and trying to look under herself and between her thighs, but her breasts just hung in her face and blocked her view when the door opened. The bluish gleam that slipped into the room was just enough to illuminate her own outline and the bars of her cage. She stretched out her legs as far as she could, swung her ass up into the air, but all she gained was humiliation when the lights were turned on.

"This one is always eager," she heard the overseer say, and he laughed at her as she dangled her pussy toward those who entered. "Always prepared. You're going to like her."

The overseer was prevalent when she first arrived--examining and trying her out every which way--but now he only showed up to exhibit her. Exhibition time. Shivers coursed through her body. She went limp, collapsing onto her knees and elbows; her skin grew warm, her nipples hardened, and her pussy grew wet. Exhibitions were her favorite.

"Take your seats, gentlemen," said the overseer as he worked the lock on the cage door. Four men entered and circled around the cage, settling into the seats in front of her. As usual, she couldn't see them well--the lighting flooded straight into the cage, bathing her. The only thing she could make out clearly was that they all looked fairly wealthy in the footwear department. Otherwise, they were just shadows, vague movements and muffled noise.

The overseer stepped into the cage and took his place beside her. She didn't look at him but kept her gaze fixed downward. She had learned that he preferred it that way. Still, she couldn't resist glancing now and then toward the spectators' shoes. She didn't steal a single glance at the overseer--after all, she was a good, obedient girl.

"This one's an absolute favorite. A prize specimen," he said, and she lit up. He yanked her hair, tugging her so her breasts bounced and the bindings rattled and clinked against the hooks that attached them to the floor. He turned her towards the shadowy figures. She felt their eyes on her, sensed a shift in their breathing, and heard one of them adjust himself in his seat. Oh. She bathed in the attention. Yes!

She could hardly believe what she had become; what she was now--meat, a showpiece, livestock. On display and for sale to the highest bidder. And she couldn't quite understand why it aroused her so much. But it wasn't her fault--she had no choice. It had been made painfully clear to her that she had no say in the matter.

"First class slave." The overseer took out his just-thickened cock and pushed it into her mouth. She immediately began working at bring it to full attention--she sucked, licked, and teased until it was firm enough for her to churn it with her mouth. The overseer groaned with pleasure, and she felt her cream drip down her thighs.

Of course she was shocked when her husband coldly informed her that he had sold her. She was angry, hurt, and felt betrayed--and afraid. But there had also been a sense of relief, though she didn't realize it until later, alone in the darkness and her cage. She never fully understood what he wanted, always guessing. Here, she didn't have to guess.

"She knows how to serve, like she was born for the job--practically designed for it!" He lightly stroked her cheek with his free hand before grabbing two fistfuls of hair and started to thrust into her mouth with commanding force. "And... uff, yeah... she can eat sausage like... mmh... an star athlete."

She was ready for the invasion and relaxed her throat muscles immediately--he had exhibited her enough times that she'd learned to read his rhythm. During the first taming session, she had been terrified, yet still defiant, still clinging to the illusion that she had some kind of agency. But the overseer had shown her--again and again, day after day--more clearly each time, who she truly was, stripped of all social pretense.

The overseer suddenly let go, and she collapsed forward, bruising herself against his crotch; her throat and neck sheathed his cock roughly, and his heavy musk and pubic hair filled her nose and eyes. He held her there, and she struggled to breathe; her airless throat only pulled the cock deeper with the effort--as much as it was possible--and he groaned loudly as her body tensed.

Her vision darkened and adrenaline surged through her veins. Yet she was neither afraid nor angry--she was utterly helpless and knew there was no point in resisting, but she also knew she wasn't in any real danger. Not with him, not with the overseer. No, the tension didn't spiral into fight or flight--it led somewhere else.

She gasped when the overseer finally let go. The cock left her with a messy squelching sound, and she collapsed onto the spongy floor mat. She trembled--not from emotion, but from yearning; thirst; a need for her existence to be confirmed through experience. Now she felt so empty and purposeless.

"No gagging," the overseer announced proudly as she clambered back onto all fours, panting and breathless. He walked around her in slow, confident steps until he stood behind her. "Her husband apparently lost his job--had to sell her, as these things happen--but I don't think he realized what kind of treasure he was giving up."

She lifted her hips.  Now. Please. Show me, prove me--give me purpose.

"No, if he had, he wouldn't have jumped so desperately on the first offer," he said smugly. He gripped her hips firmly and slid into her with a strong thrust and a wet smack. She let out her first sound as she felt him fill her--a long, deep lusty moan.  Finally.

"No resistance, always ready, perfect!" he said as he began to move in and out with slow, steady strokes. Perfect. Rising waves of pleasure washed over her with each thrust. Here she felt her purpose with every nerve--here, she existed. She began to moan.

The overseer suddenly slapped her on one hip with an open hand. She only moaned louder. "This she likes," he said with a laugh. He struck her again--this time the other hip--and then again and again, both hips, then her buttocks, over and over. She cried out.

He grunted with satisfaction and it only worked her more up. Yes. "She's totally milking me!" Yesss! "Shit, I'm really going to miss her." Yesyesyes! "But she's relatively new, and I don't expect she'll be staying long." Yes--what? He shoved her roughly down to the floor and threw himself on top of her. He pushed his wet cock between her cheeks and forced himself, slowly but surely, into her ass. All the while, he kept talking: "Only came in a few days ago, and will probably be gone by the end of the week!"

What, no--he's exaggerating! She was certain she had been here for weeks, maybe even months. It had to be some kind of a sales pitch. Just the taming alone, when she finally gave in to the arrangement, had taken an eternity--she was sure of it.

He grabbed her by the neck, straightened up, and pulled her up to him until the restraints went taut and yanked hard on her wrists. He kept thrusting into her ass, now with one hand around her throat while the other roughly worked her breast--pinching and tugging at her nipple, and she whimpered from both pain and pleasure. His balls repeatedly slapped against her slit, and he pinched the nipple between his fingers, rubbing it in rhythm with his strokes. She ached to touch her clit, but her pleasure was entirely in his hands. He kept her teetering on the edge of release, but each time she seemed about to go over, he eased off the pressure on her nipple just enough to hold her back.

"Just look how well she obeys," he said proudly. "It only took a few rounds that first day before she got the hang of it--and what little defiance she showed seemed to be all attitude!"

That shook her out of the role for a brief moment, and she cried out loud: "No! That's not--"

He responded instantly with a dominant growl and shoved her back down to the floor. He seized her hips again and began slamming into back entrance with such force that the impact sent waves through her entire body. The change in position made his balls strike lower than before--hitting exactly where it counted.

"--tru-uh-UH-OH-OHOHOH-OOOOOHH!" she screamed as a powerful orgasm tore away her sense and last scraps of self-control. She jerked, trembled, and writhed in overwhelming pleasure. He only held her tighter, bracing her with his knees as he drove his meat in and out with quick but steady strokes, until he let out a deep groan, released his grip on her, and pulled out with a loud wet pop. He felt hot, wet cum shower over her in a few bursts, first up her back, before she felt it pool down on her ass. He exhaled deeply, calm and satisfied.

He got to his feet and pulled up his trousers. He spoke again while fastening his belt: "It really varies how much time and effort the taming takes--how long it takes to strip away their hang-ups--and some are, of course, just untameable, nothing to be done--we just pass those on. But I'm not sure anyone has ever come to me as ready as this one! Born for it. Perfect!"

"Perfect," she whispered between heavy breaths, lying powerless, trembling, sweaty, and spent on the floor--still just as naked and restrained. She heard the cage open and close behind her but made no effort to look. She felt good.

"Men? I specialize in women. There's no thrill in men, they're all far too willing," she heard him reply to one of the spectators as he switched off the lights. "But I'll give you the number of someone I recommend."

They left the room, and she remained alone in the darkness, happy.  Perfect.