“Now, you just stand there and look cute, honey!” Mrs. Jones said, giving Stephanie’s bottom a playful swat. 

That was an easy enough order to obey. In the first part, because ‘standing there’ was about all the 19-year old girl could do at the moment thanks to the ropes circling her ankles and wrists. The latter were tied off to a hook hung on a steel cable hanging from a sturdy beam overhead, leaving her fit, young body stretched out. And in the second, well Stephanie was very cute: a pretty girlish face with expressive blue eyes behind large round glasses and cheeks dappled with light freckles, framed by a full head of curly brown hair, a little longer than shoulder length. Below, she had a full, curvy figure with large round breasts, round hops and long legs, all on full display because, besides a thin leather collar around her throat, the teen was completely nude. 

As Stephanie groaned miserably through the rolled up cloth band tied between her teeth, Mrs. Jones turned, stepped down off the raised wooden platform and crossed the room. At the far side was a small group of people: young women and men, naked, bound and gagged like Stephanie. They were being guarded by two burly men who bore a family resemblance to the older woman. Mrs. Jones went to the front of the group and grabbed the first of the captives she came to. 

“Come on, cutie. Let’s get you ready next!” She said, dragging the younger blonde woman to the platform by the rope tied to the girl’s wrists. Soon, Amanada, the blonde girl, was suspended the same as Stephanie. While their captor went back for a third captive, the two friends exchanged frightened looks, wondering how in the world they had ended up in this situation. 

The ‘how’ had started about a week before. The two of them, plus three more friends: another girl and Laura, two guys, her and Stephanie's boyfriends:  Mark and Freddie, had been road-tripping back from a music festival. They’d stopped for the night at a small youth hostel, run by Mrs. Jones with the help of her two adult sons. Little did the teens know that the affable hostess really made her living abducting and selling people and the five of them fit her requirements perfectly. 

The next day, when the teens tried to continue their journey homeward, their car suddenly broke down. The sabotage had been timed perfectly, leaving them stranded on the side of the road in a particularly empty stretch of countryside. Thus, no one saw when their hostess of the evening before and her sons came up the road after the teens and took them captive at gunpoint. 

Tied up, gagged and blindfolded, the terrified captives were driven to Mrs. Jones’ secret dungeon where she held her victims before selling them. They waited several days, kept in strict bondage most of the time. Gradually, the rest of the cells in the dungeon filled up as more hapless travelers fell prey to the cruel slaver’s trap. At last, when her dungeons were packed with terrified prisoners, it was time for them to be put up for auction and sold into slavery. 

Eventually, the last struggling captive was dragged to the stage and tied in place. A dozen naked figures stood, arms outstretched, in two rows of six. The slaver looked over them with a cruel eye. “Get ready slaves. Not long to wait now!” She left the room and was gone for five, maybe ten minutes. When Mrs. Jones returned, she was leading a small crowd of men and women: the buyers who had come to purchase the helpless slaves. 

Mounting the stage again, Mrs. Jones stepped beside Stephanie. “We’ll start the bidding with this cute little thing here!” One of the slaver’s hands went and gave the teen’s bottom a sharp pinch. The young woman squealed into her gag, jumping. The audience jeered cruelly. Hardly had the slaver called for bids then hands shot up. 

“Any more?” Mrs. Jones said, as Stephanie’s price stalled for the final time, just shy of $300K. “Going once! Going twice! Sold for $283K!” Mrs. Jones announced and the rest of the bidders clapped politely. The newly sold slave in question stood numbly, unable to believe she had just been sold, until the rope holding her hands over her head was untied from the hook above. Taking the free end, one of the slaver’s sons dragged the naked teen to the side of the stage. Behind her, Mrs. Jones was already taking bids for Amanda. 

Waiting at the side of the stage was a tall, dark haired woman in a severely tailored black suit. A cruel smile crossed her face as Stephanie’s rope lead was handed over. Pulling on it, the older woman drew her struggling slave in close. 

“Well, aren’t you cute, slave.” She said, cruelly. “I think I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you!”