The Newest Slave
Chapter 1
This was turning out to be her favorite place to shop. The quality of the merchandise was superb and she had been very pleased with her previous purchase. That wasn't always the case when she bought high value items. It was not uncommon for her to select a new car, only to change her mind shortly after it was delivered. She had moved her family twice because the homes she selected turned out to be disappointing once they moved in. And she had an entire jewelry case of valuable gems set in pendants, bracelets and earrings that she hardly ever wore. They had looked like good ideas at the time of purchase but she became disillusioned with them once she got them home.
That wasn't the case with the last item she purchased here. It had been about a year ago when she made that transaction and she was still delighted with the object. In fact, the whole family was. She and her husband had bought the item for their children. She had a teenage son and a teenage daughter. They loved playing with their new toy. But the parents loved playing with the new toy too. That's what brought her back to this market. She decided that the family needed two.
But she was going to try to purchase one in the aftermarket this time. The last one was brand new and took some getting used to. She assumed that a previously owned one would result in an easier start-up period.
She looked down the row of merchandise that had been neatly arranged. She had already walked down the aisle to get an overview of the items for sale and to see if any of them jumped out at her as the one she had to buy. But that did not help at all. Each of them looked perfect. She thought she could buy any one of them and be happy with her decision.
The naked women were aligned in a row. Each had her ankles shackled and attached to rings in the floor with their feet about shoulder width apart. Their wrists were cuffed and drawn over their heads, attached to hooks that hung from the ceiling. And there was room to walk between them and behind them so that they could be fully inspected.
There were thirty naked female forms in the large room. They had all been kidnapped at some point in their lives and sold into slavery. For one reason or other, they were being resold. For some of them, their owners had died. Others had failed to please their owners. Still others were being sold because an owner got married and the new spouse did not want to have to compete with a slave for time and attention. And then there were the owners who had fallen on hard times and were disposing of a valuable asset to generate cash.
Each of the beauties was to be sold at auction that afternoon. This was the viewing and inspection time and Angela was there as soon as the doors opened. Already, a half dozen other buyers were roaming about the room now, inspecting the goods.
Angela loved to shop. If she had a vice, that was it. At least that was one of them. Ever since her husband convinced her a year ago to come to this Caribbean island, she also had a vice involving slavegirls. But before that, shopping was her only indulgence.
She came alone on this trip even though they both came last time. This time, she was shopping for a present for Fathers Day which was coming up soon. The new slavegirl would be primarily for her and her husband, although she was sure that they would share with the children frequently.
As she gazed down the row of naked bodies, she had no idea how she would decide which one to choose. They were all beautiful and maybe that meant that she didn't have to choose. Maybe she would start bidding as each one was brought to the auction block and just bow out of the bidding if the price got too high.
But that wasn't right. She could afford any of them, regardless of the price. She could buy all of them if she chose. She and her husband were exceedingly wealthy and money would never be an issue. She decided that she should choose one ahead of time and then she would keep raising her bid until she won.
She opened the program that she had been given. There was a page of information on each one. Body modifications, such as piercings and brandings, were described and, where appropriate, pictures showed what was done.
Two girls had received breast augmentations. Angela crossed through those pages. She wanted her girl to be natural. Lactation through hormones and drugs had been induced in another girl. She thought it would be nice to have fresh milk, although she thought it would be better to use her husband's or son's sperm to start that process. But she had no idea what she would do with the baby that resulted from that process. She crossed a line across the lactating girl's page.
As she walked down the line of naked females, she thought about the girl she already owned. Kim was nicely curved with beautiful auburn hair. But her chest was not generously endowed. Should she find one today who had larger breasts so she could provide her family with a little more of an assortment? Or should she try to find someone who matched closely with the girl they already owned so that the girls looked more like a set?
And if she was not going to create a matched set, should she try for even more diversity than breast and body shape? There were some strikingly beautiful black girls bound in the display row. There were also some Asians and Latinas who were just adorable.
She looked back at her program, convincing herself that she could decide the body type and color later. It listed birth date, natural hair color, and the normal measurements. It did not name the previous owner but it did indicate whether it had been a male, female or couple.
The program also described how the previously owned slaves had been used and what kind of training they had received. She read every word and fact closely. She crossed her pen across a few more pages when she saw "pain slut" and "toilet slut." Then she started down the line of naked girls again.
She had started this process by crossing out ones that did not fit her criteria, even though she really hadn't developed any kind of coherent criteria. But despite the lack of objectives, she decided to continue this process of elimination. It should help her narrow down her focus to a few who she could evaluate more closely.
She stepped in front of one of the girls and looked at her more closely. She seemed awfully young. She glanced at the program and saw that Lot Number 3 was only sixteen. Then she gasped when she saw that she had been a slave for two years already. The girl was younger than her own daughter! She couldn't imagine Jenna being a sex slave at all, let alone being one at fourteen which was when this girl started.
She was very attractive, though, Angela noticed. She reached up and ran her palms down the arms that were stretched high and then continued to let her hands trail down the girl's sides, enjoying the feel of the soft flesh. She lifted each of the girl's breasts, thinking how full they were for a girl so young. And the girl's face was beautiful and was framed with lustrous blonde hair that hung down to her cutely curved bottom cheeks. She marked her program with a question mark beside number three. She might be a possibility.
"What is your name, girl?" asked Angela. She saw the girl's eyes widen, almost as if in terror and then saw her jaws clench. It was only then that Angela remembered the gags that this slaver organization used which forced the mouth to close completely with no possibility of being opened. She also remembered the numbing shots that they gave to the girls' lips so that they would not be able to change their expressions. All of the girls in the display had a hint of a smile and none of them moved their lips.
"Never mind," said Angela as she realized she would not receive an answer. She stroked her fingers down the teenager's breast. "You are a definite possibility."
As she continued down the line, testing the arousal of the girls, squeezing flesh to see how firm it was, and lifting breasts to weight them, she made a decision. She wanted a girl with larger breasts than Kim's. She thoroughly enjoyed the compact mounds on her current slave but she decided that something larger was called for with their second girl. She didn't want a cow, mind you. She had already crossed a line through several of the lot numbers because their breasts were so large that they reminded her of udders. Maybe a nice C cup would do nicely for her family.