“Ladies and Gentleman!” The announcer called loudly from his podium at the side of the stage. “I am pleased to present the winner of the 2019 Ultimate Beauty Pageant! Miss! Catherine Little!” A fanfare of trumpets went up from the theater sound system as the red curtains parted. A tall, statuesque blond girl stepped through, her elegant sequined blue gown shimmering under the stage lights.

Shaking with disbelief, eyes wet with tears of joy, the young woman walked gracefully to the front of the stage, waving to the crowd. A wide grin of perfect white teeth spread across her face as one of the pageant crew hurried forward and handed her a bouquet of roses. Holding it across her chest in the crook of an arm, she continued to wave with her other. As another came up behind her to place the Pageant Queen’s tiara on her elaborately set hair, she looked like she might swoon for joy.

The announcer moved from his podium over to the joyful Queen. As he shook hands with her, he leaned forward. “Your prize is being prepared backstage right now. Just a few photos, the meet and greet and then you can collect it...”

***

“Mmmppphhh!!!” Miss Betty Louis grunted angrily as she squirmed in the tight grip of the two stage hands holding her backstage. She shook her head, a few strands of her dark red hair coming loose from her own carefully arranged hairdo. A few tears welled up, smudging the careful makeup job she’d spent two hours in the makeup chair for earlier that morning.

She no longer had on the gorgeous green velvet gown she’d worn to walk across the stage not twenty minutes before. That had been provided by the pageant committee. She didn’t get to keep it. Miss Little would get to keep hers, but she was the winner, the Beauty Queen. Betty was neither. Unfortunately, the matching panties, bra and hose had also been provided by the pageant committee.

“Mmmppphhh!!!” Betty continued to grunt and murmur. She couldn’t do much more. Her full, pouty lips were, at the moment, wrapped around a large rubber ball. Several tight leather straps encircled her head, keeping it in place. A matching leather collar had also already gone around her neck, buckled snug against her throat. As the young woman fought, a third stage hand brought up a leather armbinder and began to slid it up her arms. She groaned in discomfort as the leather sleeve narrowed, forcing her arms closer together.

The groans intensified as the straps on the outside of the binder were cinched, nearly forcing her elbows to touch. A few more straps circled her arms and chest, to keep it from sliding down. One went below her large, round breasts, another above them. She squealed, indignantly, as the stage hands casually brushed against them while pulling the straps tight. They paid her no heed.

After her arms had been secured, the men holding Betty picked her up. Looking down, she saw another sleeve, like the one crushing her arms together, now held below her, the open end just beneath her feet. She frantically kicked her legs, but she couldn’t stop one of the men from grabbing her ankles and guiding them into the leather sheathe. From there, it was simply enough to pull it all the way up, stopping just below her knees. Again, she groaned as the straps on the outside were tightened, forcing her trapped legs close to one another.

The man holding Betty set her down, onto her knees. A hand was placed on the back of her head and pressure applied, until she was forced to bend forward, head almost to the floor. This had the effect of raising her naked bottom up, open and inviting. The next moment, a pair of well lubricated plugs are pressed into her openings, one after the other in quick succession. Betty’s anguished, indignant squeals were again completely ignored.

Once both plugs were in and secured in place with a few strips of tape across her crotch, Betty was allowed to straighten back up. She squirmed, sobbing and whimpering into her gag, trying in vain to relieve some of the discomfort from the two large, hard plugs now trapped inside her. Before she had long to try, though, the final part of her bondage, a thick, padded blindfold, was pulled down over her eyes and strapped in place.

Lost in the darkness, she felt herself being picked up and carried a short distance. She was set down, once more being placed in a kneeling position. She can feel someone beside her on her left, another naked squirming body. One of the three other pageant contestants who’d been stripped and secured before her turn came. A short leather leash was clipped, connecting the two young women together by their collars, linking them in line with the rest of the captives.

After tethering Betty in place, the stage hands returned to the other side of the room. “Next.” One of them said, teasingly, eyeing the remaining contestants, 16 in all, still waiting to be processed, where they were standing, trembling under the watchful eyes of several more burly stage hands. They whimpered and sobbed. Having watched the process repeated four times already, they were very much aware what awaited them when their turn inevitably came.

About half the contestants were still in their fine evening gowns and jewelry. Two of them were in the process of being roughly stripped naked by stage hands. The rest were naked, like Betty and the other girls now kneeling by the stage curtain. One of the naked girls was selected. The lead stage hand stepped forward and seized her by the wrist in a tight grip, She was dragged away from the group and to the space they had cleared for binding the young women.

“Please!” The girl, Miss Helen Richards, begged tearfully as she was forced into place and pushed to her knees. “Let me go...”

“Sorry, no can do miss.” The man replied, turning to grab a ballgag from a large cardboard box full of them. Before she could beg any further, he took the ball and jammed it between her perfect white teeth. She gagged, grunting around the thick, hard ball as the straps were pulled around her head and tightened, forcing the plug deeper into her mouth.

“You all signed the contract when you entered the pageant. Whoever wins the pageant gets to do whatever she wants with the losers. You’d better hope she’s in a good mood.” He added with an evil chuckle, eliciting more frightened moans from Helen and the rest of the prizes. Working methodically, the rest of the former contestants were stripped, collared, gagged, strapped and plugged. Eventually, twenty squirming figures knelt backstage, tethered together by their collars.

In front of them, the curtains parted, briefly, letting two figures backstage. “Here they are ma’am, all wrapped up tight and ready for delivery.” The announcer said, giving a wide gesture to encompass the long line of captives.

Catherine stepped forward, still in her gown and tiara, still holding her winner’s bouquet. She started going down the line. If the thought crossed her mind that, but for a few surprise votes from a couple of the judges, she would have been in the place of one of the other young ladies, naked and kneeling while they were standing over her, she gave no indication. She had won, they had lost. That was all that mattered in her mind.

Having given it a good deal of thought during the contest, it didn’t take her long to make her decision. “Her...and her...her...” She went down the line, pointing at each girl in turn as she came to them. Blindfolded, the other women couldn’t see what was going on, but all of them knew their fate was being decided. Some of the captives sobbed as they were picked, others growled angrily, cursing the injustice that had denied them their rightful victory.

“…and her...” Catherine grinned as she eyed the last captive she picked, remembering a few things the other contestant had said to her during the pageant events. She was looking forward to paying her back for them. Kneeling at her feet, Betty could only squirm in her bonds, grunting angrily through the thick gag. “I want these girls for myself.”

“Very well. We’ll have them shipped to your residence straight away.” The pageant organizer said. “And the rest?” He added, nodding to the line of sobbing women.

“I’ve no use for them.” She paused thinking, just long enough for a few to whimper hopefully. “Send them to auction and write me a check for whatever they bring in.” Catherine continued dismissively. She turned away as a chorus of muffled complaints rose from the soon-to-be sold and delivered slaves.

“Certainly...” The Organizer said, nodding to the stage hands and they went to work. Betty and the other chosen girls were hauled to their feet. A long chain was run through the rings of their collars, tethering them together. One end was clipped to the end of the last girl’s collar. The other end was in the hand of the Pageant Organizer. “Come on, ladies. Transport has been arranged to take you to your new home.” He said, tugging sharply on the chain. Stumbling, shaking their heads, sobbing through their gags, they shuffled after him.

Behind them, the rest of the captives remained where they were, kneeling in a long line. Some of the stage hands kept watch over them, while others went to work preparing the stage. Through the thick curtains, the audience could still be heard, murmuring with anticipation for the upcoming auction...