Black Slave Auction Ch. 01

The weather was ripe with the smell of sweat and other bodily fluids. I stand with my naked back against the cool brick wall.

"Welcome to the auction," A pensive white male says standing behind the podium.

For years, the black slave auctions had been going strong and the black community had never caught wind. Now, here I am with all my ancestors resting on my shoulders begging me to get to the expose of the century. Michael had asked me if I could go undercover as one of the slaves to see what everything was about. Nervously I had agreed. This could be the story of my career, I thought. Little did I know all that I would have to go through?

I

It all started about a week ago. I had gotten the card from Michael. It read: Black slave auction, slaves needed. Under that was an email address and nothing else. I contacted the email address and on a whim attached a picture. It only took moments before I heard a ping. There was an address and a contact name, Aubrey.

The next day I found the address on map quest and headed out. When I arrived outside the building everything in me shook from nerves. Abandoned looking, the structure stood out against the rest of the city street. I knock. No answer. I knock again and again no answer. I turn to walk away when suddenly the door creaks open and I'm face to face with the prettiest brown eyes I've ever seen.

"Aubrey?" I ask.

"Right this way, "she responds slowly.

I'm brought into a room that seems like it should be a conference room, but it is empty of all furniture. There are four others in the room besides myself and Aubrey. One guys is tall and muscular, another guy is short and stout. The women are both beautiful and lighter than me. I actually am surprised that I'm the darkest complexion of all.

"Welcome all," Aubrey says taking the floor, "this upcoming auction is a private auction. All of you will be blindfolded upon arrival. There about ten others that will be joining and some Masters may put in last minute additions just before the auction. All of you will be nude from now until the Master has decided what to do with you. Your rights will be stripped away from you from here on out. You all will be what was intended to you from the early days, slaves to the white race."

I shake. I don't fit in here. I can barely think past the many times I've seen the movie roots and all the slave lessons from my parents. I cringe at the thought that there are willing black folks like me subjecting themselves to this. I suddenly can't breathe, but I'm not going to give up. The only way to put a stop to all this is to burst this wide open.

So, here I am with my hands on my hips standing behind a podium in an unknown Southern state. This place couldn't get more private. There is a crowd of white faces and they are all staring at the first girl on the block. She isn't familiar, but she seems enthusiastic with a smile. She is bid on but they don't use dollar amounts but instead some kind of code I can't quite work out. I'm up next. They call my name and my knees wobble as I take my place in front of the crowd. The bids start in rapid pace and all I can do is keep telling myself that this is worth it. SOLD! I can barely hear the words through the blood swarming in my ears. I'm helped off the stage before I can see who bought me.

About an hour later the auction is over and I'm taken back to the blacked-out car that brought me up to the yard. We drive for what seems like an hour and arrive at our destination before sun down. I only know this because they open the doors and two of the "slaves" exit. Then we drive on and after the eventful day I find myself drifting to sleep.

II

I'm awoken by hands shaking me. I can't seem to figure out who I am or where I am. I turn to see a friendly face staring down at me.

"Hi," she says slowly, "I'm Shara."

"Renee," I respond slowly.

"Master wants me to help you get dressed for a private dinner tonight," she says smiling but this time it doesn't quite meet her eyes. She tosses me a white dress which I slip on quickly and a pair of slip on shoes.

"Ok," I respond slowly and follow her out of the car and through the double doors leading to a lavish hotel. We are in the room only moments before she sets out to push me into the shower. Next she primps and prods me. I barely get a moment to pee before she is pushing me into the mirror.

I stare at myself in awe. I've always been the masculine type but for one brief moment in my life I look like a girl. My short hair is blow dried and curled around my ears. A muted red lipstick dolls my lips and my eyes are highlighted with blacks and grays. I'm wearing a short red dress that accentuates the shape that I didn't know existed. I gasp and Shara notices.

"He will be pleased," she says slowly.

"What's he like?" I ask turning to look at her but she dodges the question as she fixes my hair one last time.

Pushing me into the elevator, she hits the PH button. I've never been to a penthouse before.

III

"Come in," his voice is coarse as he sits in his chair turned away from us. I can tell he is older by the way he sounds.

"Hello," I say trying to calm myself. He grunts.

"Leave us Shara," he instructs her. She does as she is told without a word. I'm left alone to play this façade.

The room is dark with only candles to light the table next to him. I can tell the place is much bigger than this one room. I have no idea what I've gotten myself into and I'm scared.

He stands. He is a titan of a man with cold green eyes and greying hair. His shirt is white and buttoned and he has a hand in his black pants pockets.

"Come here," he instructs.

I can't move. I'm frozen, but he isn't bending.

"Come here bitch," he says in a booming voice that makes me shake where I'm standing. I've never been called a bitch in my life. I can't move. Doesn't he know I can't move?

He moves toward me. The speed of his walk is of a man half his age. He grabs me by the shoulder and suddenly his yellowing teeth are in my face.

"I don't like to be defied," he says crisply, "now say, yes master."

I can hear myself repeating the words and he releases me. I'm in a dream. I'm in a nightmare. He uses his hands more gently this time as he runs them up my arm. Goosebumps prick along my skin. His hands move slower now across my waist and just under my bust. His hands are gentle now. He runs fingers over my nipples and my body reacts.

"All black women should know their place," he says with a smile. I stare at him.

"Say it," he says pinching my nipple.

"Yes master," I respond quickly.

"I'm going to take you now. I'm going to fuck that black pussy and you are going to moan for me. You are going to break for me," he says in his insanely brooding tone. There is something about his tone that makes me wet. I know this is all just research, but stranger things have happened.

He isn't gentle as he pulls down my top and palms my nipples.

"You are so dark," he says with a grin, "not worthy of this black cock."

"Yes master," I say looking down at him. He bites and plays with my nipples and I can feel myself getting wetter.

"You are a stupid little nigger girl," he says striping the last of my dress off, "only good for one thing."

"Yes Master," I respond as he begins to peel my panties off my wide hips.

"And, when I'm spent, you will wash me from head to toe."

"Yes master," I say quietly.

I'm realizing what this world is like, and I'm not sure if I'm the woman for the job. He fingers my clit in a semi-circle. I tremble under the weight of his hand. His pale body moves against mine. I shiver.