“Now class, if you will turn to page 324 in your textbooks...” Miss Thompson droned from the front of the room. In front of her, a score of teenage girls sat at their desks; some quickly flipping to the requested page, pencils ready to take notes on the day’s lecture, others slumped down, dozing or fidgeting in their seats, glancing at the old analog clock hung on the wall by the door, wishing it would hurry up so they could forget about chemistry for a little while and hang out with their friends at lunch for half an hour. Just another day at Cedar Grove Girl’s Academy.

Samantha Taylor leaned forward over her desk, head only propped up by one arm, the palm pressed against one pale, freckled cheek. Her emerald eyes glazed over as she tried to pay attention to the day’s lesson, or at least not look too obvious in her daydreaming.

“There’s no way this is going to be on the test...” Samantha thought, half listening to the teacher blather on. And if it was, well, she could always study up on it the night before, she thought confidently, never mind how many times before she’d promised herself she’d study up on something only to forget about it until it was staring up at her from the test on her desk.

Certain she could get away with not listening, Samantha let her focus slip away from the lesson and towards other things, far more interesting to a teenage girl. Her mind wandered out of the classroom and to the sports fields behind the school. Ever since elementary school, Samantha had been a born athlete, whether it was soccer, volleyball, track and field, or cheer-leading…

The 18-year old girl looked the part of a natural athlete. Tall and slender, with long legs. Her school uniform, a tan sweater over a white blouse stitched with the academy’s logo, had the dark blue skirt hemmed within a hairsbreadth of what the rules allowed, to show off as much of her toned thighs and white stocking clad calves as she could get away with. Her dark, auburn hair was tied back in a tomboyish ponytail.

Almost by itself, the arm not keeping her head from falling forward onto the desk, slipped down beneath it, to where her purse was sitting atop her school bag. Unerringly, it found its way to the small pocket on the side she kept her phone in and pulled the small device out. Keeping her hand curled around it, Samantha set the phone on her lap, taking care, for the moment, to actually look like she was paying attention to the teacher.

<Hey Kim!> Samantha quickly typed into the phone. Across the room, one of the other girls gave a quiet start as the phone in her vest pocket buzzed. Pausing her note taking, the teen girl quietly slipped the phone out and glanced at the message. Slipping it back into her pocket, she briefly glanced back at Samantha, briefly shaking her head. Samantha nodded, quickly tapping out another message. Reluctantly, Kimberly slipped her phone out again, hiding it on her lap.

Many at Cedar Grove Girl’s Academy said it was odd the two of them were friends. It seemed as though they were opposites of each other. Where Samantha was tall and thin, Kimberly was short and curvy. She wore her dark hair in long braids. Kimberly was smart and studious while Samantha preferred being outside and active to studying in books all day. But despite that, the two were fast friends and spent most of their time, both in school and outside of it, together.

As Samantha happily chatted away with Kimberly, she gradually paid less and less attention to the teacher and at least looking like she was following along with the day’s lesson. She didn’t notice the teacher until she had crossed the room and was standing over Samantha’s desk.

“Samantha Taylor! Texting in class again!” Miss Thompson called sharply. There were giggles from some of the other girls seeing a classmate get in trouble...and more then a little relieved she hadn’t spotted them first. Reaching down, the teacher snatched Samantha’s phone out of the shocked teen’s hand. “Texting with Kimberly? Why am I not surprised!” She hurried across the room to take up the phone from a pale faced Kimberly. “An afternoon’s detention for both of you for texting during class.” She pronounced, sternly. “And you’d better pay attention for the rest of class, or it will be a weeks’!”

Kimberly glowered back at Samantha, who could only shrug, head hung dejectedly at getting her friend in trouble. The two of them, along with the rest of class, paid extra close attention to the rest of the lesson, or at least Samantha made more of an effort to keep her eyes forward, even as her mind wandered, but they managed to make it to the end of the period without getting in any further trouble.

The two split up after lunch, heading to their respective classes and at the end of the day they reunited, not to head to one of their houses or the other to while away the afternoon, but to tramp, dejectedly to the classroom at the back of the school that was used in the afternoons to punish girls who broke the rules.

“This is all your fault.” Kimberly muttered, as they reached the door.

“I said I was sorry...” Samantha said, moping.

“My parents are going to kill me for this...” Kimberly continued to complain. She reached for the doorknob. “Well, let’s just get this over with...” She opened the door and they went in...

***

The detention room was laid out as a normal classroom, rows of school desks facing the front, with the teacher’s desk and whiteboard. The only addition was a row of large, green lockers along the back of the room.

At the moment, there were only two people in the room as Kimberly and Samantha came in. Miss Thompson was standing at the front of the room, beside another student. Neither of the two could tell who the girl was. A leather hood covered the girls face, save a wide hole in the front, accommodating the nose and a pair of sad brown eyes.

“There you two are. Take a seat while I finish securing Janet here...” Miss Thompson told the two. She grunted quietly as she pulled tight the leather strap that ran between the student’s legs to attach to another going around her waist. The other end was attached to a tight monoglove, trapping the girl’s arms behind her back. More straps at the top circled her shoulders and chest, keeping it from sliding down.

“Take a seat, Miss Little and maybe next time you’ll think twice about cutting in line in the lunchroom.” Miss Thompson said, patting the student as she shuffled past, her movement hobbled by the leather cuffs around her ankles, joined by another strap, about a foot in length.

Meanwhile, the teacher gestured for Samantha to step forward. Glumly, the teen obeyed, dropping her schoolbag off on a desk and walking over. “Stand here.” Miss Thompson ordered, walking past her to the large cabinets. From inside, she took out two more sets of restraints: hoods, armbinders and leather straps. She set all of it on top of the teacher’s desk and sorted through the pile a moment.

“Open up.” She said, approaching Samantha, one of the hoods in hand. It had been turned inside out, the small rubber plug on the inside now sticking out in front. With a sigh, Samantha opened her mouth to accept the gag. She gave a muffled groan as it slid between her teeth, forcing them apart and filling her mouth completely.

From there, it was just a matter of pulling the rest of the leather hood back, enveloping her head completely. Miss Thompson made sure the hole was lined up, leaving Samantha’s eyes and nose clear, while the rest of her head was covered by a thin layer of black leather. The laces at the back of the hood were pulled tight, gradually tightening the hood around Samantha’s head. She could only express her discomfort by grunting in articulately, any conversation, any noise louder then a quiet whimper made impossible by the plug between her lips.

“Arms behind your back.” Miss Thompson ordered. Since this wasn’t her first time in detention, Samantha had already gotten ready, placing her arms together, palm to palm, turning around in place and bending over slightly so the teacher could easily slide the black leather monoglove up them to halfway up her upper arms. Again, the laces were tightened, eliciting more grunts of discomfort as Samantha’s elbows were pressed to within a couple inches of each other.

For the next couple of minutes, Miss Thompson busied herself with the many leather straps needed to secured Samantha completely. Her chest was wrapped in their tight embrace. Cuffs were locked around her ankles, joined by another strap. A wide leather belt was cinched tight around her waist.

Last, and definitely not least, in Samantha’s mind, was the final strap, running from the end of the monoglove to the front of the belt, between her legs. She gave a whimper when it came time. The point of it was simply to keep her from raising her arms up from her back and it didn’t need to be all that tight to do that. As many of the students at the academy had found, if the detention teacher was feeling generous, she might leave the strap somewhat loose, to save the unlucky girl at least some discomfort and embarrassment. Judging from the previous girl, though, Samantha guessed she would receive no mercy from Miss Thompson. A second later, she was proved all to right, a muffled squeal escaping her gag as the strap was yanked as tightly as possible by the older woman before being threaded through the buckle and secured.

“Take your seat, Miss Taylor.” The teacher ordered, gesturing, meanwhile, for Kimberly to come forward to be secured as well. The short, dark haired girl sighed, but shuffled forward to endure her punishment. Meanwhile, Samantha shuffled forward, gingerly, partly from the short strap hobbling her feet, partly from the awkward feel of the strap rubbing between her legs with each step. Eventually, she found a chair pulled out in the second row and settled down into it. She sighed, squirming in the chair in a futile attempt to get comfortable. Nothing to do now, but wait until Miss Thompson decided they’d been punished enough and deigned to let them go…

Strapped tight, red faced and miserable, Kimberly shuffled over to sit down beside Samantha. Miss Thompson, meanwhile, took a seat at the teacher’s desk, grabbing a magazine as she leaned back, periodically glancing up at the three captive students to make sure they were still there and not enjoying their detention.

Five minutes later though, there was a vibration from her purse. Muttering something quietly to herself, Miss Thompson reached into her purse and fished out her phone. She quickly glanced over whatever message she had just received and put it away. She then stood up. “I need to step out for just a minute...” She told the three students. “Don’t go anywhere.” She said in a voice half stern, half joking, and quickly strode out of the room.

Samantha and Kimberly turned, glancing at each other as they wondered where she was going...

***

Miss Thompson hurried down the hall, towards the Head Mistress’ office. “I came over as soon as I got your message, ma’am.” She said, coming through the door.

Inside, Headmistress Janice Wilson was sitting at her desk, going over some folders. Beside her were two other members of the school’s senior staff. “Good. Take a seat, miss Thompson.” Wilson said, pointing to an available chair.

“What is this about, Ma’am?” Miss Thompson asked as she sank into the chair.

Instead of an answer, the Headmistress asked her, “How many girls are in detention this afternoon?”

“um...three.” Miss Thompson replied, confused. “Miss Little, Miss Taylor and Miss Roberts. Why do you ask?”

“Hmm...” The Headmistress murmured, before speaking, to the other teachers. “It’s not much, but it’s a start.” Finally, she turned back to Miss Thompson. “We were just going over the school’s finances. They’re not a pretty sight, I’m afraid. Tuition and donations are down...way down, and we just received word one of our grants is not going to be renewed. Unless we do something now, it’s possible the whole school could close, so we’ve decided to sell a few of the girls under Section 17.”

That section of the school’s disciplinary policy did, in fact, give the school the option to enslave and sell students as punishment for breaking the rules. Normally, it was only used for the most egregious of rule breakers, but as written, it really was up to the Headmistress to decide whether a particular infraction warranted a collar. And though not common, sometimes that decision was motivated more by the funds the sales of such rule breakers would bring to the school then what they may have actually done.  

Miss Thompson nodded. “I understand. It’s a shame though, Kimberly was a good student.”

“And I’m sure Coach Forester will be unhappy at losing one of her best athletes.” The Headmistress agreed. “But we’ve got to raise money for the school somehow and they’re available now.” She dismissed the teacher with the instructions, “Go get them ready. I will make all of the arrangements...” As Miss Thompson left the room, the other woman reached for her phone and dialed a number...

***

Back in the classroom, Samantha, Kimberly and Alice Little were still seated in their chairs, bound with armbinders, ankle fetters and hoods, squirming from time to time in discomfort at their predicament. They groaned through the thick plugs filling their mouths inside the tight leather hoods as the door opened and Miss Thompson came in.

The teacher ignored the three girls’ entreaties, walking past them to the supply cabinets the restraints had come from. Opening the cabinet up, the teacher took out several more items. She turned, walking back to the three students.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news, girls...” She told them, eliciting worried murmurs from the three captives. “I just spoke with the Headmistress. She seems to feel you haven’t been punished enough. Therefore, I must regretfully inform you the school has decided to sell you at a special auction to be held as soon as possible.”

For a moment, the three were silent, hardly able to believe what they’d just heard. “Sell us? For texting in class?” Samantha thought, incredulously. But if it was a joke, the punchline wasn’t coming. Miss Thompson came up behind Samantha.

“Sit still.” She ordered, placing a hand to still Samantha’s nervous squirming. Samantha felt something slide around her throat, buckling tight. It was a leather collar. A slave collar! Now, she started to struggle in earnest, but with her hands and feet already restrained, there was nothing she could do. As the collar was locked on, Miss Thompson attached a padded leather blindfold to the outside of Samantha’s hood. It was slide down, covering the opening for the girl’s eyes, so the only part of her face that remained visible was her small, pert nose. Frantic whimpers escaped the thick leather, the only sign of the panic the captive was feeling.

Miss Thompson went and did the same with the other two girls. Behind her hood, Kimberly was pale, still hardly able to believe what the teacher had said. She was a good student! Aside from what Samantha got her into, she hardly ever made trouble. How could they sell her as a slave!?! She was very still as the collar and blindfold were put on her. Alice was the last, sniffling quietly through her gag as the blindfold slid down over her eyes.

Lost within the darkness of their hoods, the three students were left completely helpless. They could only obey, timidly, as Miss Thompson pulled each, gently, but firmly, up out of the chairs and stood them together in a line. A long chain lead was run from one girl to the next, fixed to their collars, linking them into a short line.

“I’m taking you three to another room, where you will stay until all the arrangements are made for the auction.” Miss Thompson said, tugging on the chain. At the front, Samantha stumbled after the pressure at her neck, dragging Kimberly along behind her and Alice, bringing up the rear. “But don’t worry. I have a feeling you three won’t be by yourselves there for long...”

***

There was a tenseness in Mrs. Smith’s geography class. The students sat at their desks, intent on the work in front of them...or at least on not doing anything that would give the teachers the impression they were on anything but their best behavior. Though none of them knew just quite what was going on, and the rumor mill had supplied a plethora of possibilities, somehow word had gotten round to every girl in the school that they definitely didn’t want to get in trouble today and especially didn’t want to be sent to detention.

Mrs. Smith sat behind her desk, watching her class intently, frowning slightly. Ordinarily, she would have been delighted at this rare streak of uninterrupted good behavior from the usually rowdy girls of her second period senior class, but the Headmistress had been most insistent in her message to all of the teachers. One way or another, enough girls would happen to get in trouble between now and the auction this weekend so there would be enough lots to put up to make it worth it.

“Of course, they would be inconsiderate enough not to cause trouble the one time we need them too...” She thought, eyeing several girls she’d rather been hoping to use this opportunity to get rid of.

Every now and then, eyes turned to the clock. Twenty more minutes. The relief the girls felt that this class was almost over was tempered by the thought that they still had four more to go before they were free...and safe. The time dragged on slowly, not much longer now.

Then, ten minutes before the bell, there was a murmur from the desks. It might have been someone talking to her neighbor, or it might have been a cough. It was too quiet to tell either way, but not so quiet the teacher didn’t hear it. Mrs. Smith’s eyes zeroed in on the unfortunate girl, a short brunette named Sally Walker.

“Were you talking during class, Sally?” Mrs. Smith asked, sternly. The student looked up, eyes wide with shock. She tried to stammer out an explanation that she was merely clearing her throat, but she’d hardly got more then a couple words out before she was cut off. “I won’t tolerate distractions in my class! Go to the detention room at once!”

Any further protests or pleas were in vain. Face pale with dread, the unlucky girl got to her feet. She grabbed her schoolbag, little realizing she wouldn’t be needing it any longer. Slowly, she trudged to the door, watched by every other girl in the room, some with looks of horror, others with barely concealed relief that, having picked one girl from among them, Mrs. Smith wouldn’t pick any more of them…

Out in the hallway, Sally slowly trudged off to the detention room, as if hoping if she delayed long enough she wouldn’t have to go at all. But no, there was no use. By now, Mrs. Smith would have already called up the office and told them of her punishment. If she didn’t go, Sally would get into even more trouble, she though, little realizing just how much trouble she was already in.

Along the way, Sally ran into two other glum faced girls, sent to detention by their own teachers. They fell in together, not saying anything, until they reached the detention room. For almost a minute, they hung outside, too afraid to enter, but not quite willing to try and flee either. At last, one of the other two reached out with a hand and turned the knob. With a sigh of resignation, the other two followed her in.

Inside, Miss Thompson and one of the other teachers were waiting. Miss Thompson was busy tightening the straps on the armbinder of another poor girl, already made anonymous by the leather hood and blindfold she wore. One of the three newcomers was taken in hand by the other teacher and started to receive her own set of tight restraints.

Meanwhile, Sally and the third girl took their seats, waiting their turn. Outside, the bell finally rang. The sounds of feet tramping filled the hallway outside, though without the usual babble of conversation that usually went with the brief periods between classes. After five minutes it stilled, as most of the girls went into the classrooms and went attentively to their desks, praying this wouldn’t be the class they were sent to detention.

At least three more girls had already failed there. Just as Miss Thompson was sliding the armbinder around Sally’s limbs, another trio of girls slunk into the room, nervously. Two had been tardy getting to class while the third, ironically, had been trying too hard to get there early and been accused of running in the halls by a passing teacher...  

The two teachers worked quickly to finish strapping up the girls. When they were strictly bound with cuffs on their feet, monogloves trapping their arms and hoods covering their heads completely, the collars came out as they were leashed together. Behind the thick leather, the girls whimpered in surprise, feeling the thick collars close around their throats, guessing at the significance of this. Ordered to their feet, they were led out of the detention room.

By now, the hallways were clear as the newest lots for the coming slave auction were quickly hustled several doors down. There, another classroom had been converted into a storeroom to hold all of the captive girls until the next day. They sprawled around, some seated at desks, others sitting against the walls, all still strictly bound, gagged and hooded. Muffled whimpers and sobs filled the room.

Near the front of the room, Samantha and Kimberly sat side by side at two of the desks. They, along with Alice, had been kept at the school overnight. The whole time they’d been kept in bondage, their hoods only removed once the evening before and once in the morning, before the other students had arrived, to be fed and watered. Any attempts to beg, or plead with the teachers brought the gags back out.

With no way to communicate with each other, or their growing number of fellow captives, they had only their private thoughts, filled with growing dread about what awaited them on the next day, when they would be auctioned off as slaves. Who would buy them? What would their new lives be like?

Meanwhile, the school day dragged on. Each period, more girls were sent glumly off to detention, not realizing until too late they were also going to a slave auction. The storeroom soon filled with sobbing, squirming, captive girls. When the last bell rang, the other students hurried out, relieved to have made it through the day, unlike so many others.

In the hallway, two of the girls lingered as the rest filed out through the doors. “Jane!” A tall redhead called to her friend. “I’m glad to see you! Did you see Samantha or Kimberly?” She asked.

Jane shook her head. “I haven’t seen either of them since they were sent to detention yesterday. And Rebecca wasn’t in class this afternoon, Kelly.”

Kelly shook her head in confusion. “They aren’t in detention now...I went by there just now. The whole room is empty.” She thought for a moment. “But it’s odd… as I was leaving, I thought I heard a bunch of people in the door down from it.”
“There aren’t any classes being taught there at the moment...” Jane said. She frowned. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Do you want to check it out?” Jane asked.

After a moment’s hesitation, Kelly nodded. “Let’s wait a while for the rest of the teachers to go home...I don’t want to get caught here after hours.”

“The janitor’s closet on the second floor is usually unlocked. We can hide out there...” Jane said. With nods of agreement, the two girls hurried to put their plan into action...

***

A couple hours later, the two emerged from their hiding space in the janitors closet. The school around them was dark and empty. “Looks like the coast is clear...” Kelly said, peering up and down the corridor. Cautiously, the two crept through the hallway, eyes and ears straining for any hint of one of the teachers, staying late grading papers, or worse.

It wasn’t long before the two made it to the empty classroom. Kelly had just stuck her head around the corner, looking towards it, when the door opened. She frantically waved for Jane to stay back and keep quiet as Miss Thompson came out of the door, and she wasn’t alone...

Held in one of her hands was a long leather leash. Trailing along at the end of it were three school girls tethered together in a row by their collars. They sobbed and whimpered through the thick leather hoods as they shuffled after the teacher, their movements hampered by the leather cuffs and straps on their ankles. As they turned and headed the other direction, away from where Kelly and Jane were, the teens could see the three captives had their hands trapped behind their backs in tight monogloves.

“Hurry up, girls.” Miss Thompson chided her charges, giving the leash a sharp yank, jerking the first girl in line forward with a squeal. “The sooner you use the restroom, the sooner I can get you back and bring the next group of girls out.”

“Come on...this is our chance!” Kelly whispered. “We can slip in while she’s gone and see what’s going on!”

Jane shook her head. “What if she comes back too soon? We don’t want to get caught in the school after hours!”

Kelly thought a second. “Ok, you stay here, keep an eye out and whistle if you see her coming back. I’ll run in real quick...” Before Jane had a chance to say anything else, Kelly ran forward. Hoping there wasn’t another teacher waiting in the room, she opened the door and crack and looked through.

“Oh my god!” Kelly whispered. All of the missing girls were inside the room, spread around sitting on various desks, lying across tables or on the floor. At some point, the school had run out of the usual detention punishment restraints and had improvised, tying some of the girls with jump ropes from the school gymnasium, tape from the janitor’s closet and nurses office, even some of the girls’ white stockings.

The captives sat quietly, dozing. A few whimpered and sobbed quietly in the dark room, but all, it seemed, had given up on struggling against their restraints. None had any hope of escape or rescue from the auction the next day.

After a second, Kelly spotted Samantha and Kimberly, seated beside each other at two of the desks. Kelly glanced back, but didn’t see Miss Thompson coming back, so she ran in, heading over to Samantha, who was closer to the door. The captive girl gave a startled whimper as she heard, faintly through the thick leather covering her eyes and ears, someone coming and realized it wasn’t her captors.

“Hang on, Samantha.” Kelly said, bending over. “I’ll get you out of this in just a moment...” Her nimble fingers went to work, but it was difficult getting the laces of the hood undone, loosening it enough to pull it off. The whole time she was waiting, tensely, for Jane’s warning that the teacher was coming back, but eventually, Samantha’s sweaty, frightened face, was revealed.

“Kelly!” Samantha said, frantically, as the built in plug of the hood slid out of her mouth.. “You’ve got to get us out of here!”

“Alright.” Kelly replied, starting on the armbinder’s straps. “What’s going on here? Why are they keeping all of you like this?”

“They’re going to sell us! They said there would be an auction tomorrow!”

“Sell you!?!” Kelly exclaimed, in horror. While she, like all the other students had known that was something the school could do, she’d always assumed it was something they’d only do in the most extreme cases, when even expelling a student wasn’t enough, not to just sell off a dozen or more students to raise some funds.

Kelly worked frantically, hindered more then helped by Samantha’s frightened struggles. Both knew they had only a few minutes before Miss Thompson got back with the other students. What they’d do after that, Kelly had no idea. She just knew she couldn’t leave her two friends here, to be sold the next day…

“My my, what have we here? A naughty student trying to help another troublemaker get out of her punishment?” A stern, mocking voice rang out in the quiet room, causing Kelly to jump with a cry of fright. She spun around, eyes wide with horror. Miss Thompson stood at the door.

Beside her stood the Head Mistress. She held Jane in a tight grip, one hand clamped tight over the girl’s mouth, the other looped around her arms and waist. Jane looked over at Kelly, fear and guilt both evident on her face. She’d been so intently focused on watching the hallway Miss Thompson had gone down, she hadn’t noticed the Head Mistress coming back up the other way until the older woman had gotten behind her and grabbed the teen, keeping a hand over her mouth to keep her from warning her friend of the sudden danger. Now both of them were trapped.

“If you’d just step back, please.” Miss Thompson said, walking over towards Kelly and Samantha. She grabbed the hood and quickly put it back on Samantha. The captive girl gave a low groan of disappointment as the gag was slid back into her mouth. After having given up hope of rescue, to be offered a chance of escape only to have it be snatched again was more then she could bear.

“How can you do this?” Kelly said in a trembling voice. “How can you just sell us as slaves for no reason?”

For a second, Miss Thompson seemed like she was rethinking things, but the head mistress quickly interjected. “That’s quite enough young lady. You’re in enough trouble as it!” She stepped forward, dragging Jane along with her. In a few moments, the two teens stood, side by side, against the wall.

“Now...” The older woman said, taking a coil of rope out of the bag she’d gone to fetch. “Both of you, turn around and cross you hands behind your backs...

***

Late Saturday morning and the parking lot of Cedar Grove Girl’s Academy was oddly full for the weekend. Quite a number of people had responded to the hurried announcement the school had made for the auction. Besides a few parents, with the money on hand to try and buy back their daughters and the local businesses looking for some new “employees”, there were several large livestock trucks from the large slave dealers. Small scale auctions like these were a good place to pick up new, untrained slave girls on the cheap, who could then be turned around and sold for a tidy profit on the national market, once trained and broken in a bit.

In the auditorium, the bidders mingled, jockeying with one another for seats closest to the stage. At the moment, the curtains were drawn tight, hiding the stage, but the occasional low murmurs coming from behind them told the crowd they wouldn’t have long to wait before the auction began.

At the time specified for the auction to begin, the headmistress came onto the stage from the left wing, walking in front of the curtains. She stopped, a microphone in hand and turned to face the audience. “Thank you all for coming this morning...” She smiled, addressing the crowd. “We have quite a number of items for bidding today, so without further delay, we’ll get started...” She turned and slipped through the break in the curtains. A moment later, she reappeared, tugging on a short leash which disappeared through the gap. “Starting with this lovely item here...”

After another firm tug, the curtains parted again and Samantha stepped into view. The school girl stumbled awkwardly out onto the stage. She still wore the armbinder and cuffs she’d been fitted with before, along with the thick, stiff collar leashing her to the headmistress.

But the hood and blindfold had been removed, to give the audience a clear view of her youthful looks. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, finding herself in such a position, displayed to the large crowd in front of her, about to be sold off to one of them. She scanned the rows of eager faces, looking for a friendly, recognizable face, who might hopefully buy her and spare her from this fate, but didn’t see any...  

“Now, let’s start the bidding at 1,000!” The Headmistress said. Immediately hands went up, some holding markers to make the bids more visible. She pointed to the first one. “That’s 1000 from Mr. Stone of Stone’s Wings and Breasts!” Samantha gave a muffled whimper. That place was well known, both for the poor quality of it’s food and for the excellent quality of its “waitstaff.”

Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about serving dodgy wings for long before the bidding was raised to 1250 and 1500 and soon onto 3000 in short order. Briefly, she thought she recognized a few faces in the crowd, that rich bitch Caitlyn Warner who’d always said her parents would buy her a slave on her next birthday and made no bones she hoped it would be Samantha or one of the other students she didn’t like, which was quite a few, the parents of Brad Younger, a boy from Samantha’s neighborhood who was likewise getting his own slave soon enough. Mrs. Phillips, who ran the big hotel downtown and Mr. Carlton, who managed the bank. But before long, though, the locals were priced out and it was just the big slaving firms bidding on her…

“10,750 going once! Twice! SOLD!” The Head Mistress announced in a cheerful tone. Pale faced, Samantha looked down at the sharply dressed man who had the winning bid. An agent for the Shackleton group, owners of a large chain of classy “resorts” catering to men and women with a range of unique tastes...and now her.

But there was nothing she could do about it. Glumly, the newly sold slave was led off the stage. A moment later, the curtains parted again. Stumbling out, wearing the same restraints, eyes wide with fright, Kimberly was led to the front of the stage to stand before the crowd.

“Here we have our second lot today.” The Head Mistress began again. “Let’s start the bidding at 1000...”

***  

“Do I hear 1000?” The Headmistress repeats. After a moment, someone in the crowd raised a hand. A second later, another bidder chimed in with 1100. The bidding started to pick up speed as more people decided to throw in and bid for the shackled girl. Unlike with Samantha, Kimberly’s price did not shoot up and up with each bid. It rose steadily, in fifties and hundreds, not thousands, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why.

A young, athletic woman, fit and toned, was always prized at auction. There was less call for a smart little bookworm like Kimberly. Her grades wouldn’t do her much good, or her future owner and though she was fairly pretty in a cute, girl-next-door sort of way, she was nothing special. There were plenty of other girls just as pretty if not prettier still waiting backstage for their turn to be sold. No sense throwing all the money away this early in the auction, was the thought of most of the bidders.

Far from being dismayed at her low price, compared to her friend, this gave Kimberly some hope. At the current bidding, there were still plenty of locals bidding alongside the larger dealers, who usually preferred picking up goods of Kimberly’s quality in bulk anyway. She scanned the crowd, anxiously, hoping to see her parents bidding on her, but even if they didn’t win her freedom, perhaps at least she wouldn’t be bought by the dealers and resold in a distant city. She’d be able to keep in touch with her friends, those who weren’t being sold today at least, her family. Maybe in a few years, she’d be able to buy her freedom then.  

“4255 going once!” The head mistress called. “Going twice! Sold!” Kimberly had been looking the other way, thinking she saw one of her neighbors in the crowd. Taken by surprise, she’d missed seeing who had won the winning bid. The person who know owned her. Frantically, she turned to look, but the Head Mistress had already started walking back off the stage, not bothering to check and see if the newly sold slave was following. When she got too far away, the chain running from her hand to Kimberly’s collar snapped taut. The young girl was jerked back by the sudden pressure. With a gag-muffled whimper, she turned and started shuffling after the older woman.

Through the curtains, the two went back, behind the stage. Miss Thompson was standing ready nearby, holding the next girl’s leash in hand. The two women exchanged, Miss Thompson taking the newly sold Kimberly, while the Head Mistress grabbed the next girl in line.

“Come on...” She said sharply, tugging on the leash. “Dawdling won’t change a thing. You’re going to be auctioned off whether you like it or not.” Kelly sobbed, exchanging a frightened glance with Kimberly as the two former students passed. Miss Thompson, meanwhile, pulled Kimberly in the opposite direction. Glumly, she shuffled forward, past the area backstage where the academy’s theater department normally prepared costumes and props. Now, a few dozen girls knelt in rows, anxiously waiting their turn to trod the boards.

Further beyond, a small storage room had been set aside for the girls who had already been sold, and were waiting to be picked up or shipped out, depending on what their new owners wanted. As Kimberly was led inside, she briefly saw Samantha. Her friend was kneeling against one wall, a blindfold over her eyes, squirming anxiously as she awaited her fate. Then a blindfold was pulled over Kimberly’s eyes, plunging her into darkness. Miss Thompson brought the helpless teen over and forced her down onto her knees, beside the other captive.

For the next few minutes, more newly sold slaves were brought in and knelt down. Others were brought out again, as they were picked up by their new owners. After about ten minutes, Kimberly felt a tugging on her collar again, pulling her to her feet. Trembling, she stumbled, blindly, out of the storage room, guided only by the tugging of her leash. Not far away, she felt the leash being handed over to someone else.

“And twenty makes a total of 4255.” Another teacher was saying, in a cheerful tone. “Thank you for supporting the Cedar Grove Girls’ Academy, Mrs. Phillips!”

For a moment, Kimberly thought she recognized that last name, but a second later, her leash was tugged sharply again, the voice of her new owner commanding, “Follow me, slave.” Helpless, she obeyed...

***

Kimberly was led out of the school and into the parking lot. She can’t see anything with the blindfold covering her eyes, but she can hear cars on the road nearby. A few late arrivals to the auction pass by, expressing their admiration to Kimberly’s new owner on her purchase. Eventually, they reached her car. The older woman helped Kimberly get into the backseat. With her hands still strapped in the arm binder, once she was buckled in, it was like she was strapped in.

A moment later, the other woman got into the driver’s seat and started the car. During the short drive, she said nothing to Kimberly, listening to the radio and occasionally saying something to herself, as if the presence of another person in the car didn’t register with her. The teen, meanwhile, spent the ride wondering anxiously what her new life would be like, whether this woman would be a kind or a cruel mistress. She didn’t seem all that friendly, true, but at least Kimberly was sitting in the back seat, instead of in the trunk like any other luggage…

Pretty soon, the car pulled into a drive and shut off. The older woman came around to open the door and unbuckle Kimberly, helping the blindfolded slave climb awkwardly out of the backseat. Though she couldn’t tell much about where she was, Kimberly was a bit surprised as the steady pressure on her leash resumed, dragging her, not towards where she thought the front door of the house, her new home, was, but around the side, through a gate and to a door on the side.

Kimberly was led into a small room, likely a laundry room judging from the sounds and odors around her. Another firm pull downward brought her onto her knees. “Wait here, slave!” The older woman ordered then without another word turned and walked out, closing the doors behind her. Kimberly was left to think, anxiously, about her circumstances. She wondered what would happen to her now, as the minutes dragged on and on. Her knees started to ache from kneeling on the tile floor below her. She wanted to get up, but didn’t dare. It might be a test, from her new mistress, whether she would be an obedient slave or not.

Just then, she heard the voice of the woman outside the door. “Caitlyn! I have a surprise for you!”

“Caitlyn?” Kimberly thought, thinking hard. The name sounded familiar. She had an awful suspicion growing in her as another person came over. The older woman slipped through the door, grabbing Kimberly’s leash and bringing the slave back onto her feet.

“I know your birthday isn’t until next week, but the school was holding a surprise fundraising auction and I was able to get what you wanted so, happy birthday!” The older woman said, leading Kimberly out through the door. “Surprise!”

The second Kimberly heard the other girl’s loud cry of delight, she knew, with a groan, who she’d been sold to. Her blindfold was pulled off, revealing the grinning face of her classmate, former classmate, Caitlyn Warner. Caitlyn’s mother handed over the leash to her daughter, who took it, eagerly.

“I figured it was time you had a slave of your own, so you could get used to managing one. Remember, she’s your responsibility.”

“Yes, mother.” Caitlyn replied, eyeing the other teen.

Kimberly gave a dismayed moan through her gag. “I hope Samantha ended up someplace better...”

***  

After her sudden and abrupt sale, Samantha was taken backstage, to an empty storage room to await her fate. “Down.” The teacher holding Samantha’s leash ordered, punctuating it with a sharp tug on her neck. Compliantly, Samantha sank to her knees. She’d been sold as a slave, now she would need to learn to obey orders like this. She cringed, hanging her head as a blindfold was pulled over her eyes, plunging her into darkness and rendering her completely helpless.

Not far away, she could hear, muffled by walls and curtains, as her best friend Kimberly was led out to be sold as well. Samantha prayed Kimberly would be sold to a kind owner, guilt weighing down on her for getting the other teen into this mess. She knew there was no hope for her anymore.

Though Samantha had, intentionally, avoiding learning too much about the Shackleton group and others like them, she knew, vaguely, of the existence of chains of high-class “resorts” staffed by hundreds and hundreds of young, innocent slave girls forced to provide the crudest services to their guests. And now Samantha would be sent to one.

Cheeks burning with shame, she contemplated what that entailed for her. Though not a virgin, Samantha’s sexual experiences were limited to one or two awkward encounters with boys her age. The thought that from now on she would be forced to serve men, much older then her, with her body every day for who knows how long, was more then she thought she could endure. But endure it she must. She had no choice.

A loud cry from the auction stage signaled Kimberly’s sale. Not long after, Samantha heard her friend being dragged into the storage room by a leash and forced to kneel down, just as Samantha had been before her. The two girls were left alone for the moment while the next girl’s sale began. Samantha murmured into her gag, trying to apologize to Kimberly, to share a few words with her best friend before they were separated forever, but the cruel gags the two newly sold slaves wore prevented it.

Soon, more slaves were brought in and set aside to await their owners. After a few girls had been set down around the room, one was knelt down beside Samantha. She felt a tugging on her collar as something was attached; a short chain linking her to the other girl.

Quickly she worked out, this other girl, blindfolded and gagged she had no way of knowing who it was, had been sold to the same terrible owner she had. “Misery loves company...” Samantha thought, bitterly. Over the course of the auction, at least three or four more girls were added to the chain of miserable slaves.  

Eventually, one final girl was pronounced “Sold!” and led to the back room, weeping volubly through the plug of her gag and added to Samantha’s coffle. A bustle of noise from the auditorium, audible even backstage, told the blindfolded captive the auction was over, most of the would-be slave owners heading home disappointed. Pretty soon though, the luckier bidders began arriving to collect their new property.

Samantha found she was trembling, hardly able to hold back the fear she felt as the enormity of her situation sank in fully. But there was nothing she could do. Not far away, though Samantha was unaware of Kimberly being led off to her fate as a former classmate’s birthday present. Other girls were being dragged off as well, some struggling, fighting the leash, others submitting to it’s pull with broken resignation.

Eventually, someone came for Samantha and the rest of her fellow slaves. “Up!” A male voice ordered briskly. With the other girls, Samantha struggled to rise, her hands shackled useless behind her back. She rose too quickly, before one of the girls beside her had gotten up, the chain connecting them dragging her back down with an uncomfortable yank on her neck.

Eventually, though, all of the girls were standing, trembling, somehow aware they were being inspected, though they remained blind and mute. Evidently, they passed muster. With another prompt command of “Follow”, the man turned and started walking. Samantha heard the girl in front of her start forward, then the leash joining her to the other captive went taut and Samantha had no choice but to follow or be dragged forward.

Out of the auditorium, out of the school, and into the parking lot. Samantha’s cheeks burned with shame. She’d seen plenty of local people in the audience, fellow classmates or their families. Blindfolded, she couldn’t help but imagine all her former classmates, especially the girls she’d been rivals with, like that bitch Caitlyn Warner, standing by, mocking and jeering as she and the other slaves were led past, humilatingly bound, gagged and leashed like dumb beasts.

Not far away, the girls were guided up the steps of a bus of some sort. The coffle was broken up and each placed into a different seat. The seats were hard and uncomfortable and had straps for holding the unfortunate occupants in place. “Like a prison bus...” Samantha thought, bitterly, cheeks still red with shame. The last of the girls were strapped down and the man exchanged some words with the driver. Then the bus doors closed and they drove off.

For several long hours, the bus drove along the highway, leaving the girls’ hometown, everything they’d known, their friends and family, far behind. Once, they stopped at an isolated rest stop and were, briefly, untied, so they could use the spartan, dingy bathroom and be given some food and water.

As they were led off the bus under watch of the man who had bought them at the auction and the bus driver, Samantha again felt the same sense of shame walking in a line past other travelers stopping to rest. They were free men and women while she and the others were slaves. Even without the restraints, the collars and the way they were escorted in made it plain they were no longer free girls, but newly sold slaves being taken to their new lives.

Then, once all of them had a chance for some brief relief, they were hustled back onto the bus. The gags went back on, though to Samantha’s relief the other restraints were left off. It didn’t matter much, the straps holding them to the uncomfortable seats kept them just as helpless as before, but at least now she could stare out the window and watch the endless empty countryside go by. A few times, the bus would pass by another vehicle. Again, the teen cringed whenever someone glanced over, looking surprised to see several glum girls, mouths stretched around uncomfortable ballgags, looking out the windows back at time. Seeing a cargo load of slaves being driven by.

Finally, they arrived at their destination. Staring through the window, Samantha looked in dismay as a massive structure came into view, dropped on the endless plains according to the whims and market research of the corporation that owned it...and her. The ungainly structure looked as if some deranged architect had mashed together several tall hotel buildings, the gaudiest casino and tackiest resort they could find into one huge monstrosity. The front shone in the growing evening with thousands of flashing lights. She cringed, noting several large LCD displays, like those of a sports stadium, advertising some of the resorts attractions: slaves like her and the other girls, and the services they could provide in the crudest and lewdest ways.

Out front, past a huge parking lot crammed with hundreds, maybe thousands of cars and trucks, more were pulling up in front of the entrance, dropping off a steady throng of visitors to the resort. “Please no...” Samantha thought, cringing at the thought of the bus pulling up to the front and her and the others being led through that crowd of hungry, eager guests, showing off the newest attractions of this place. To her relief, though, the bus pulled off to another side road leading around the back. A sign helpfully pointed out this road was for “deliveries.” Several large trucks were back there, delivering cargo. Like the nondescript boxes and pallets, Samantha and the other new slaves were delivered.

As the bus pulled to a stop, the man went down the line, unstrapping the girls from their seats. The girls were ordered into a line in the aisle of the bus, so he could quickly chain them back into a line. Then, they were led off the bus and into the resort. The first Samantha saw of it were loading docks, storerooms and other support facilities. Men and women were busy wheeling boxes around. They paid little attention to Samantha and the other new arrivals.

Eventually, the coffle was hustled down a short hallway and through a door. The room they went into looked like another storeroom, but was completely empty. “Stand there.” The man ordered sharply, before turning and walking back out the door. Behind her, Samantha heard the door close and lock. With nothing better to do, she and the other girls remained where they were, standing. Still chained at the neck, the only way a girl could sit down was if all of them sat down. Fear of what they new owners might do if they disobeyed kept several of the girls on their feet, so all of them had to stand.

Eventually, Samantha heard the door unlock again and open. She kept her place, listening as someone came in the room behind her. She expected it to be the man who had bought her and the others, or another sharply dressed businessman like him. But when the new arrival came into sight, Samantha was surprised to see if was another woman, only a few years older then Samantha and the other students.

This new comer was a tall, statuesque woman with light skin and red hair, worn long, to one side of her sharp face. She was dressed in thigh high leather boots, a leather skirt short enough Samantha could easily see she had nothing on under it and a leather top cut low enough to leave most of the nipple uncovered. A metal collar around her neck told the teens, as if her dress did not, she was a slave like them.

The girls stared, in shock, at this vision of their own future. She in turn examined them as well. “Welcome to the Gold Dust resort.” She said, her voice made intentionally cheerful. “I know you must be scared at all this. I know I was when I first came here. But stay strong, you’ll learn how to make do. It might seem impossible, but believe me, eventually you’ll get used to it.” She smiled, reassuringly. “Now, let’s see what I’ve got to work with. Clothes off, girls. Come on, all of it.”

Samantha and the other girls looked at each other, uncertainly. They were all still in their academy uniforms, a school they’d never go back to. But even with a slave collar around her neck, reminding her her new place, Samantha felt uncomfortable getting naked in front of strangers. The other woman had to repeat her order, a little sharper. Awkwardly, the teens started unbuttoning their blouses, pulling down their skirts and finally, with a little hesitation, removing panties and bras until all were bare apart form their collars and gags.

“Hands at your sides.” The woman ordered, as several girls, Samantha included, had automatically moved to cover their breasts and crotches, as best they could, with their hands. The teens’ faces flushed red as their naked figures were examined by this other woman. But she seemed pleased. “If you do a good job, you’ll be allowed some clothes again, but for now you’ll be naked all the time, so you girls get used to being naked with the customers.” She told them. “The Gold Dust prides itself on the quality of it’s...staff. So before you start work, you’ll be trained.” She stepped forward, taking the leash of the lead girl in the coffle. “That training starts now.” With a tug, she led the girl forward, back to the door. Along with the rest, Samantha followed along, trembling with fear and uncertainty. Her new life had begun.