1-15 Love Theme  

sexyasianangel70 38F
214 posts
6/8/2006 4:59 pm
1-15 Love Theme

When I was eleven, my periods started. Father was so relieved, because it was a good sign that I would develop a full figure quickly - men like their females big-titted and as young as possible, which was a hard combination to find these days. My pedigree was also good, and Father’s third wife, Candy, who had given birth to me, was especially well proportioned. So it was quite likely that in a few years he could sell me for quite a nice sum of money, and money was something he needed as the farms weren’t doing well.
And when I turned thirteen, my tits were even bigger than Candy’s, like two big melons sticking out off my small, skinny frame, and even though I had wide hips and a squishy bum to match, I still looked blatantly top-heavy. I thought I looked quite obscene, but the family men liked it and often amused themselves by watching them bounce. They were heavy, and it hurt, but big tits could be one of the things that help me become a wife instead of just a female and I was grateful to have them.

A wife, the highest status possible for a female. I wanted it so badly, but only a fraction of females were ever deemed acceptable to become a wife, and even though my body might attract wife hunters, there was no guarantee I would get that honour until the day of auction.

“Green!”

I looked up at the shout, the pig I had been examining wriggling free at the distraction. It was my oldest Brother, standing just outside the pigbarn doors. “Yes, Sir?” I crawled out of the mud pit, then walked over to kneel before him, forehead to the floor.

“You stink, you’re covered in mud and pigshit.” He grabbed my plastic collar and shook me. “I can barely tell it’s you!” He wiped off some mud in disgust, letting the green collar show through. “Didn’t anyone tell you what day it is?”

“No, Sir.” I felt miserable, sorry he had got his hand dirty because of me. “May I clean your hand?”

“Shut up. Where’s Red?”

“With the cows, Sir.” Red was younger than me, and she was supposed to have come take over from me at noon, but noon had come and gone and I could only assume she was held up with the cows.

“Get her to take over, and you go clean up. Father wants to see you in his office.” He turned on his heel and walked swiftly back into the house. There was something going on, and I started getting nervous as it sounded like I was part of the something.

I ran as fast as I could, ignoring the pain of my bouncing breasts, and found Red crouched down under a cow and rubbing its’ stomach. Her naked flesh was just as dirty as mine, but her red collar was quite plain to see. I felt a moment’s resentment, stupid really, but I couldn’t help it.

“Red!” She faced me, her eyebrows raised in question. “Do the pigs. I have to see Father.”

She nodded and I raced to the river to wash, trying not to think about how pretty she was too. Even covered in mud, that had been clear to see, had been clear to see since the winter. She was better than me in so many things already, and when the weekly punishments were carried out, she was always treated less severely. Sometimes, she wasn’t even punished, which was quite unheard of. I had a feeling she was going to be kept in the family rather than being taken to auction, and I was trying very hard not to hate her for that.

Auction! My heart suddenly raced. Candy had said something a few days ago, about how the men were very satisfied with my service and how pleased she was with me also - maybe today was the day?

It did turn out to be my day for going to auction, and Father gave me a good strapping on my bum for not being prepared. Then I pulled on my brown burga and huddled down in the truck bed, trying to be inconspicuous as well as trying to take discrete peeks at the passing scenery. I couldn’t see much, the mesh over my eyes too thick and black, but I always tried to every time I was lucky enough to be taken out.

The market was busy; the sound of hundreds of men talking quite deafening and my nervousness was starting to turn quickly into fear. I was looking at the ground as was good and proper, but I could sense that a lot of men we passed were looking and judging. They couldn’t see through the burga, but they could get an idea from how the cloth moved over my curvy figure as I shuffled along behind my Father and Brother.

Suddenly it was quiet and I listened as Father talked about me, just clarifying details on my pedigree. I tensed, even though I knew that my papers were all in order as Father would have ensured that, but there was always the chance it could go wrong and then the state could have me. The fear was making me tremble, and I had to clench my jaws tight to stop my teeth chattering. It was made worse by the fact it was cold, and as I was naked under my burga the cold was really affecting me, especially through my bare feet on the concrete floor.

“Remove your burgas!”

I jumped, caught by surprise. After a moment’s hesitation, I did as I was told, but I was tense and my hands were shaking. I’m always naked at home, but wore the burga if there was company or if I had to go outside the estate, so this was the first time I was naked in front of a man outside the family. And I wasn’t the only female there. I’d been so preoccupied and also half-blinded by the burga that I’d failed to realise there were five others there.

All six of us stood naked with our brown cloth at our feet. I looked up just briefly and froze at the sight. Two strange men. Knowing they were seeing me naked and seeing them seeing me naked were two different things. One man was physically touching and measuring, checking inside our mouths, as well as poking a sharp finger up our cunts ‒ unpleasant, but the family had done it regularly to me so I was used to it, but one of the others screeched. A quick slap shut her up. The other man who held a palmtop noted everything he said down.

Then numbers were written on us, big and black, the number 3 spanning all the way from my collarbone to my belly button. Repeated again on my back, and on both upper arms. An injection came next, a quick stab into one of our bum cheeks, and that made me even more nervous. Injections were common, but explanations were rarely given and I’d once woken up to find myself in another country with two weeks worth of memory missing.

We were taken through to the holding pens, the sawdust underfoot nice and warm and the presence of other animals warming the air. I shivered again, but it wasn’t as cold anymore and I waited patiently in the chute, third in line. There were two lots to go before us though, one of cows and the other horses, and I could hear the audience now, shouting out bids above the general conversation. It wouldn’t be long now. Soon I’d know if I was good enough to tempt a man to take me as a wife...

What if I wasn’t attractive enough to make any man consider me as good wife material? What if no man out there was even willing to bid on me? It could happen; big tits and wide hips didn’t guarantee anything. If there was no life as a wife ahead of me, I’d be taken by the highest bidder for whatever service they wanted of me, and if there were no bidders, then the state stepped in and utilised me as they saw fit. The best I could hope for was housework. The duties of a wife without any of the benefits ‒ like gifts of clothes and ornaments, and the freedom to go out uncovered by a burga. And nice things to eat and drink.

But due to an increased awareness of environmental concerns, the popularity of going back to nature, manual labour in factories and farms and such things were in greater demand. Father himself had twenty females who worked the fields, having scaled down his reliance on machinery and chemicals. Sometimes I saw some of them, yoked and pulling ploughs, others scrabbling in the dirt hauling weeds and rocks out. The state had given him the females for free, as an incentive to turn the farm more environmentally friendly.

And even that fate was nothing compared to some I had heard about. Like medical research. Like hunts.

I had reason to tremble, and I wasn’t the only one. The one who had screeched when her virginity was being inspected was shaking so much the fencing was rattling. Not much noise, but enough to get my attention and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to get more than a slap for offending a second time. It would be a simple thing to reach over so she wasn’t touching the fence, but we weren’t allowed to talk or touch other females without permission, and now wasn’t the time or place for me to be disobedient.

Just in case the men did notice the rattling, I stood far enough away from the sides so there was no chance of mistaking me for the offender.

And then we were moving forward and all thought left my head.

I remember it being bright, lots of artificial lights as well as the sun coming in through the auction room windows. The place was more windows than wall, and it was ironic that I got to see more of the world outside the estate right then than at any time in my past. Covered by burgas and huddled on the floors of vehicles with eyes obediently lowered, or put in the trunk, or in cases and crates, none of it allowed for much sightseeing.

Bright and loud. There were hundreds of men looking us over as we walked around the auction ring, their voices and gestures more than a little intimidating. I just followed the female in front and tried to not see anything even as I was told to look this way and that.

I remember the smell too, man sweat and cigarettes and animal stink.

Then the auctioneer was holding me by my arm, moving me around, bending me forward, spreading my bum cheeks, bending me back and having hold my pussylips apart. I jumped up and down a few times, offered my tits to some in the audience who squeezed and verified they were real, and the same for my cunt. Virgin, the word was passed through the crowd. Would make a good wife, the auctioneer said, excellent pedigree, trained in looking after the household, a cattle and pig farm, a produce farm; early puberty, good breeding investment. Good resale potential.

His words went over my head. I just listened out for the commands shutting out everything else, as I had been trained to do all my life

I was taken off to the side, behind some screens, and some men came to inspect me more personally. One forced his hand inside my mouth, and I gagged repeatedly but didn’t try to back away from him. My eyes were tearing and I was really afraid I would throw up on him and that would be disastrous. Fear helped me keep from doing that, but my whole body was spasming from the hand he was trying to worm down my throat.

“You’re a virgin in all your holes?”

I nodded, but said ‘yes, Sir’ too even though his hand was still inside my mouth. Some men are offended when you don’t respond vocally.

He shook his head and left. My heart sank. But the other two preferred complete virgins and I tried even harder to please them. More fingering of my cunt, quite painful stretching to see how many fingers I could take, and the same with my ass. I was bent over, my legs spread and my hands against the fence. They reached over now and then to feel my breasts, spanked me a few times and one whipped me with his belt to see how well I took the pain. I took it quietly, like the men in my family had taught me to take it.

But some men liked noise and I felt my fear rise again. “I can be noisy too, Sirs.”

They laughed, patting my hot punished ass. “If we wanted you noisy, you’ll be noisy.” There was a hard spank then, making me flinch. “Go on, then, go back out there.”

I went back out to the ring.

And the rest I can’t remember very clearly. Bidding began, loud and fast and I remember just listening out for the auctioneer’s instructions when my turn came. It is all blurry and hazy in my head, and then there was a bright golden rope being tied around my neck and I was led out of the auction. I knew what the rope meant, but I didn’t react, I just numbly went along until I was crouched inside a cunt carrier, until the darkness somehow woke me up.

I almost pissed myself in relief. Whatever else I didn’t remember, the colour of the rope was clear in my mind and the feel of it now in the dark was like the best comfort I could imagine. I was hot and sweaty crammed inside my carrier, and the smell of my own fear was offensive, but I was almost giddy with happiness because I was going to be a wife. A wife! - the highest status for a female and I had made it!

There were sounds outside, and I wished I could see out but even the slot at the bottom had been shut. I wondered how the others had fared, whether any had been unlucky and had ended up under the state. Especially number 2. She had been too fragile for any man to seriously consider her, but then again, some men preferred a challenge. I know my Brother liked his females obedient, like all men, but he also liked using force to get obedience. He liked seeing us trying to obey and failing, and then making us obey. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to get a man like him.

But my mind came quickly back to my own situation and I wrapped the rope round and round my hand and held it to my face, smelling and licking and rubbing it all over my face. I was to be wed, I was going to be a wife. I rested my head on the floor, my roped hand tucked in over my mouth and nose, and went to sleep breathing in the smell of the wife leash.


rm_Rana66662 40M
3 posts
6/12/2006 2:23 am

Hiiiiiiii
any one is there


HARDCOCK691968 48M

6/14/2006 1:51 am

Wow...Does this really happen? Or do you just have an extrordinary imagination?


buy936 29M
5 posts
6/14/2006 2:52 pm

HEY SO HOW OLD ARE YOU?... CAN WE MEET SOME TIME?


rm_fuckandleave 44M

6/17/2006 3:47 pm

very well written my dear. it's just perfect to tie the rope around your own neck - and have them pull you into their trailer.



the young gods: skinflowers

gimme - something skin, something like a flower
gimme - something warm, something like forever
gimme - something hard, something ready to start
gimme - something strong, and I'll sing this song

gimme - something skin, something like a shelter
gimme - something deep, something you don't wanna keep
gimme - something love, something without a glove
gimme - something wrong, and I'll sing this song

one for the skinflowers
skinflowers
gimme gimme gimme

what is burning inside, we wanted some outside
what is burning inside, we wanted some outside

one for the skinflowers
skinflowers


rm_caribbeauty 37F

6/20/2006 7:51 pm

That was very interesting i never read anything like that before.You are very talented


rm_karamba690 38M
1 post
7/2/2006 9:21 am

very interesting story, well done.
And to posters 2 and 3: go home and play with your toys


Acampbelllongman 30M
262 posts
4/3/2009 1:15 pm

I like this; I’m hard as a rock.

Ladies, my dick his ALWAYS available, let me know when YOU want it for a good ride.


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