Earning Forgiveness

Content Warning:

This story contains intense depictions of cruelty toward the main character. It is purely a work of fantasy and should not be interpreted as a reflection of real-life behaviour or actions.

Please read the content warnings in Ch. 01 and do not continue if this will cause you distress.

Emma was so tired that she slept soundly thought the night. She woke at eight and stumbled into the shower. It was then that the memory of the night's events took hold of her. She hadn't - had she? She remembered signing, and her flesh turned cold in spite of the warm water raining down on her. Maybe it was just another trick, she thought desperately; one final power game before they finally let her loose. Surely there was no legal way that one person could own another?

She found no clothes laid out for her, but that wasn't unusual; they quite often liked her to walk around naked. She pulled her high-heels on and stumbled down the stairs towards the kitchen.

William sat at the table, dressed smartly in a suit and tie. The contract lay on the table in front of him, and he was grinning when she walked in. "I can't believe you signed this," were his first words when she entered. "Have a seat; I want to talk to you properly."

Emma was so taken-aback at being asked to sit down in a real chair that she hesitated for a moment. Then she quickly sat before he could change his mind. "What about?" she asked, and in a moment of daring she left out the customary 'master'. When he didn't berate her, she relaxed. It had just been a trick, she thought.

"Emma, did no-one ever tell you? You're supposed to read a contract carefully before you sign it." She was stunned to hear her own name spoken aloud, and couldn't respond. "My favourite part is where it says I can have you arrested if you don't do as I say," he said with a sneer. "And if you think James and I are bad, you should see what a load of sex-starved bull-dykes do to you in prison."

"I -"

William continued as though she hadn't tried to speak. "Then there's the bit that says all your worldly belongings are mine," he said casually. "And the section which accepts that I can do pretty much anything I want to you, except kill you or cause you permanent damage; I do like that."

Emma scowled at him. Overnight, she seemed to have regained her fight. It was probably her last, desperate hope. "It's not really binding," she spat out.

"No?" William raised a mocking eyebrow. "Then why do you look so worried?" She had no answer, and he laughed softly. "Let's put it this way: legally binding or not, do you really think you can leave now?"

He was right, of course. When she signed her name on the contract last night, she had sealed her own prison forever. She had admitted that she would belong to them forever, and she knew she wouldn't be able to find the strength to fight the hold they had over her. "Maybe not, but I'm not calling you master anymore," she said petulantly.

William didn't seem at all put-out by this declaration. He shrugged, and casually flicked through the contract. "I think the best bit is at the end, though."

He looked up at her and waited. She folded her arms and stared at him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking him to explain himself. He seemed quite unconcerned, though, and continued to watch her. Finally, she couldn't bear it. "What's the best bit?"

He smiled smugly, and paused before answering her. "The final section gives me the right to sign ownership over to anyone that I see fit."

Emma hadn't been expecting that. "What do you mean?"

She heard the sound of soft, mocking laughter behind her, and she swung round to see James nonchalantly leaning in the doorway. "You didn't really think that we'd keep you once we'd broken you, did you? Quite frankly, I'm bored of you. I'm sure William feels the same way."

William nodded his agreement. "You've ceased to be entertaining for us. And we can make so much money from you, now."

Emma frowned. "So, what? You're going to turn me into a whore?"

They both laughed at her consternation. "Of course not," James said. "Who has the energy to be a pimp?"

"Well, what then?" She was getting irritated with the secrecy. Why wouldn't they just be straight with her, and tell her what they had planned?

"We're going to sell you on, of course; to the highest bidder, this afternoon, at a slave auction."

Emma turned pale. The thought of being William's slave for the rest of her life was horrifying, but who could say how much worse off she might end up being if she was sold to a stranger?

"So, Emma, enjoy the sound of your own name one last time," William said mockingly. "Because this time tomorrow you'll be owned by someone who doesn't know what your name is, and doesn't care."

"Have a good breakfast, bitch. You'll need it to keep your strength up this afternoon. We'll be back in an hour."

They left her alone in the kitchen, and for the first time since she had arrived a month ago, she felt a sense of real dread settling in her stomach. She should just run, she told herself; just leave the house and never come back. But she was tired and aching, and she was naked. She'd probably be raped as soon as she walked out of the front door. And she had no idea whether William and James had really left the house; maybe they were just waiting for her to try and escape just so they could punish her.

So she didn't leave. She cooked herself a large breakfast, and tried to enjoy the luxury of a hot meal eaten off an actual plate, for once. An hour later the two men reappeared in the kitchen. "I knew she'd still be here," William said with satisfaction. "She knows her fate is sealed."

Emma wanted to protest. She wanted to explain why she hadn't left, but the words wouldn't come. She sat and stared at the lino sullenly.

"Come on, bitch. We want to prepare you for the auction." James pulled her out of the chair and pushed her violently into the living room. He ran a hand forcefully over her pussy and fingered the rim of her arse. Despite the situation she found herself in, even the rough contact made her gasp when his palm brushed her clit. "She's done a good job," he told William. "She's completely shaved."

"Good, that's one thing we don't have to worry about," said William. "Kneel down, whore."

She knelt at their feet, and they sat on the sofa in front of her. "Look at us and listen hard," James ordered. She looked up. "We'll be leaving shortly. Now, you've been registered for this auction since you arrived here a month ago." Emma flushed as the full meaning of that sank in. They had planned this since the start, she realised. They must have planned last night as the way they would finally break her. She wondered dejectedly whether the tramp had been planned, or if it had just been a lucky break for them.

"There's about forty slaves for sale today, give or take. You're number 36," William told her matter-of-factly. "We'll get there about half an hour before it opens to get you ready. You'll stand on a raised platform with your number printed on it. Have you been to an auction before?"

"No."

"But you know how they work, right?"

Reluctantly, Emma nodded. "Yes. I'm not an idiot."

William raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. "Then you know that people typically get to inspect the exhibits before the actual auction begins. You've been entered into a catalogue, so a lot of people will have already decided if they have an interest in you or not. But they'll still want to try you out, see you in the flesh. Others won't have any idea what they want until they turn up."

James seamlessly took over from his friend. "Sexual acts aren't allowed in the auction house, but people will still want to check how tight you are. Expect fingers up your arse and in your cunt as routine. It's more or less like they're feeling a cow or pig to test for firmness at a meat-market." He grinned at her, obviously enjoying himself. "We've listed a brief summary of your talents; what you've been trained in. People might ask you questions about that. Be polite and show them respect; remember that any one of those people might end up owning you, and you don't want to start off on the wrong foot."

"And give good answers," William continued. "We'll be close by, watching and listening, and if you don't sell because you don't do your best, I promise you, you'll regret it. If you get into trouble and really can't answer a question, be honest about it. They'll come and ask us instead. Do you understand everything so far?"

"Yes," Emma said resentfully. How could they be doing this to her?

"Good. When the auction begins you'll be taken into a holding area to wait your turn. Then it's all pretty straight-forward. If you're paid for in cash or via banker's draft then I'll sign you straight over to your new owner. If I'm given a cheque, you'll be kept in escrow until the money clears."

James grinned at William, his eyes bright. "I hope she's kept in escrow," he said viciously. "Don't they let all the employees have a go if that happens?"

William nodded, and smiled maliciously. "After that, we'll have nothing to do with you. Understand?"

"Yes."

"OK, let's go." James pulled her onto her feet and attached her lead. He threw a coat over her and pulled her towards the waiting taxi.

The auction house was spacious and elegant; at odds with the sight of naked, collared men and women, being guided onto their individual platforms. She wondered at the fact that such a thing could carry on in the civilised world without anyone knowing or doing anything about it. How could they keep it a secret? And how did people learn about it?

William and James greeted a few of the other owners, and chatted with them while they set up. Emma wondered how they knew people already. She was the first girl they had done this to, wasn't she? And yet they had known exactly how the auction would work. And they had greeted the man at the club last night like an old friend. A horrible, creeping doubt rose inside Emma and she tried her hardest to keep it out of her mind.

Shortly after they settled, the doors opened and people started to enter. They were all well-dressed and stylish; the way they carried themselves showing clearly that they knew they were far above the people they had come to inspect and possibly buy. There were women dressed in leather and carrying whips; men in suits talking on mobiles; and people everywhere were acknowledging friends and acquaintances. It was a social gathering as well as an auction, Emma realised.

A large tattooed man dressed in leather approached Emma's platform. He looked coarse and unpleasant, and she prayed that he wouldn't be the one to buy her. "She's fully broken, I take it?" he asked William casually.

"Of course, Jim. We wouldn't bring her any other way."

He scowled doubtfully, and stepped up onto the platform, circling Emma once before stopping in front of her. "Name?"

"Slave 36, sir," she answered as they had told her to.

Jim nodded once in approval. "Has your arse been trained, slave?"

"Sir?" Emma asked hesitantly, unsure what he meant.

He sighed impatiently. "Your arse, has it been trained?" She looked at him blankly and he made his voice loud and slow, as though she was an idiot. "Have you had things stuck into your arse-hole?"

Relieved just to understand him, she nodded. "Yes, sir."

"What? Be specific."

Emma hesitated, but managed to answer before he grew irritated again. "I've been forced to keep butt-plugs of various sizes, and other objects, in my arse for various amounts of time, sir."

"Good. Let's see what you feel like then, shall we?" He reached behind and shoved a finger deep into her arsehole. She bit her lip to keep from gasping, which she knew would get her into trouble. He hooked his finger inside her and it felt uncomfortable, but she didn't let him know. He probed a little more and then withdrew. He nodded curtly at William and James and walked away without another word, wiping his finger clean with a wet-wipe which he threw into a nearby bin. Emma hoped even harder that he didn't buy her.

The next person who approached them was a woman who looked as though she would have been comfortable in a city firm. She smiled at James and William, and then told Emma to crouch so she could get a better look at her cunt. Emma did so, and the woman pulled her pussy lips apart roughly, inspecting her carefully. She finally walked away without exchanging words with any of them.

For hours Emma was forced to stand still while she was poked and prodded, squeezed and probed. She was asked questions about her arse, her cunt, her sexual experience, and even how good she was at cleaning. She was approached by old men in their seventies and young girls who looked barely eighteen. Some of them would have fitted in at Ascot and others wouldn't have looked out of place on a building site. The only thing that united them all was their unmistakable air of having money, and the disdain with which they treated her.

One man that drew near to her seemed to be having an argument on his mobile, and when he finally came up to her he was irritated, and rough. He barked questions at her like a drill instructor, and Emma did her best to answer as best she could. She still had William's threat ringing in her ears, and she was slightly afraid of what they might do to her if she wasn't sold. "There's nothing on here about toilet training, slave. Have you eaten shit before?" The bare-faced question took her by surprise, and Emma managed a faint no. "Have you tasted shit before?"

"Y - yes sir," she stammered.

"Tell me about it," he ordered bluntly.

"There's more than one," she began hesitantly.

"Pick one."

"Well -" she hesitated again, and could see him getting irritated with her. "Last night I was fucked in the arse, and then I sucked the man's cock," she said quickly, pulling out the first memory that came to mind. "He had my shit on his cock."

"Did you like the taste?"

Emma faltered. She thought she might get in trouble if she was honest, but she knew that the man would never believe her if she said she had enjoyed it.

"Don't stand there like an idiot, answer the question. Did you like the taste of shit in your mouth?"

"No, sir."

He nodded in satisfaction, and Emma hoped she had given the right answer. She thought he would leave then, but he continued to interrogate her. He wanted to hear exactly how they had treated her like a dog; he wanted to hear her bark and see her beg; he wanted to know how many people she had gone down on; there seemed to be no end to it. And each time he made her describe how she had felt at the time. His eyes seemed to be boring the truth out of her, and she honestly told him that she hadn't enjoyed a moment of it.

Finally, he squeezed her arse and each of her breasts as though testing their weight and firmness, and then pushed a finger into her arsehole and one into her cunt. When he was finished with her, Emma felt as though she had just been grilled by a particularly exacting school-master. He moved out of ear-shot and opened his phone again, and appeared to resume the argument.

Emma was so drained by his rigorous interview that she wasn't paying attention to the next person that was moving towards her. She wasn't aware of the woman's presence until she spoke aloud. "So you're numbered and up for sale, like a piece of meat. I guess you really have learned your place, at last." Lisa was stood looking up at her with a sly smile on her face.

She hadn't seen Lisa since that night at Daniel's house, when the other woman had made her lick the dirt from her shoes, and watched her fuck herself in the arse with a stiletto. Emma coloured to see her, and Lisa laughed nastily. "It's good to see you."

"Yes, miss." Emma wanted to spit at her, but she knew what would happen if she showed up James and William at such an important event. She controlled herself, and kept her hatred confined to her eyes.

"What do you think you're worth then, Slave 36?"

Emma had no idea what to say. She couldn't even begin to imagine what the going rate was for slaves, and Lisa had certainly never seemed rich when she had seen her. "I don't know," she said.

Lisa raised an eyebrow and her expression was stern. "Excuse me?" she said coldly.

"I don't know, miss," she spat out. Emma knew she must be infuriating William and James with her rudeness, but she couldn't bring herself to kowtow to this woman.

"You'll have to learn to keep a civil tongue in your head, if I purchase you, slave. I don't respond well to insolence. It makes me reach for my whip."

Emma bit back a biting retort, and settled for a silent scowl. She was convinced that Lisa didn't have the money to buy her, and she wasn't going to indulge her now. The other woman held her gaze for a moment and her eyes were burning with cold fury. Without another word she turned on her heel and walked away.

More prospective owners turned up to handle her and ask questions until, at last, it was time for the guests to move into the auction room. When the display room had emptied of buyers and only the slaves and their owners were left, James pushed Emma roughly off her platform and she stumbled. "You should pray that your impertinence doesn't cost you in there, bitch. Lisa is a very dear friend of ours and if you don't sell today, we may consider giving you to her as a gift."

Without another word he dragged her into the holding room, and he and James left her in the hands of an auction house employee. The man ignored her while he cuffed her and chained her to a hook in the wall, and Emma had an opportunity to look around her. The room was made of stone, and as empty and cold as the other had been inviting. They clearly didn't care how the slaves were treated once they were out of the public eye.

Emma watched and waited while the slaves were unlocked and taken through a small door to the auction room one by one. They didn't return to the holding room once they had left it, and so she couldn't guess what it was like in the auction.

At last they led Slave 35 out of the room, and began unlocking Emma's cuffs. One man held her arms tightly behind her back while he waited for the sale of Slave 35 to finish, and then, in an instant, Emma was standing on another raised platform, beside the auctioneer.

The bidding seemed to pass by in a moment. With harsh lights shining in her face, Emma couldn't see who was bidding for her, and she prayed that some of the more unpleasant ones had decided not to bother. When the auctioneer banged his hammer and called no more bids, Emma was escorted out of the room by yet another employee.

William and James were waiting for her when the man pushed her through a door nearby, and they looked at her with indifference. "You're lucky you sold, bitch," James said coldly. "You won't see us again; we've been paid and there's a man waiting outside to claim you. I suggest you take our advice and behave very carefully with your new owner. You might find that you're not treated so lightly if you are rude or disobedient."

He nodded at the security guard, who pulled Emma out into the hallway. A man was waiting there for her, and she assumed this was her new owner. Part of her was relieved not to recognise him: it meant that Lisa and the man fascinated with her arsehole had lost out, if they had even bothered to bid.

He took out a lead; a shorter one than James and William had used; and attached it to her collar. Without a word he pulled her roughly down the hall, and she had to run to keep up with him and avoid getting strangled. All around were men and women collecting and collaring their new purchases.

The man led her out to a car-park at the back of the auction house, and her skin prickled in the cold air. Without speaking, he pulled her towards a large people-carrier. When he unlocked the rear door, Emma saw a sturdy-looking cage attached firmly to the floor. Set into the floor of the cage was a bowl of water and another filled with a basic meal. Emma obediently clambered into the cage, and the man slammed the door shut behind her and locked it.