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Then after presenting it to the male standing at the store entrance who was controlling me that evening being publicly berated..."That's not big enough, go back and get a really big one! I crave humiliation, degradation, being put in my place by males.I need humiliation, to be degraded, used, embarrassed. I found a few men who had knowledge of such things.We shuffled down the hall through a door into another large room, trying not to stumble or step on one another's feet. We sat on a bench in front of a table and were fed a nice breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. After breakfast the first girl was unchained by one of the men.She was led off; I later found out when it was my turn to shower again and use the toilet.I don't really understand this but I am what am and I now accept it. To be sold as common chattel, the loss of control, the humiliation of being auctioned off like a cow gradually permutated my day and night dreams. All were reluctant to open up to me; slavery is illegal in the US after all.But despite all I've been through, public collarrings, being stripped naked and whipped, even my experiment with multiple partners one evening - nothing so far has compared to the slave auction I experienced last month. There is the whole issue of white slavery, a separate and disgusting practice where women are kidnapped against their will and forced into prostitution.After several hours they brought in a plate of sandwiches. Finally another man opened the door and whispered to one of the guards.
The only problem was, the girl's Master submitted her for the auction, drove her to it, and picked her up afterwards. I arrived by taxi to a warehouse area of the city on a Thursday evening around 9 PM. Through an open door I saw an unmistakable apparatus, an OB/GYN exam table complete with stirrups. "Remove your clothes and shoes , put them in this bag," she said, pointing. I undressed, pulled on the paper gown, and sat in the exam chair.
I have no Master at present, so I was told I could not be sold. I agreed to take a taxi to and from the event, and to follow the instructions given to me without question. The driver looked at me a little strangely but took my money and drove off. I grabbed it, walked to the door of the nearest warehouse and knocked. "Staci." The girl smiled, "Ah, yes, Staci, we were told to expect you. "Put on this gown; the doctor will be in soon." She took my overnight bag with her as she left, pulling the door closed behind her. Damn I thought I was going to a slave auction, not getting an exam! In a few minutes the door opened and a man in his early forties came in. " I realized he was looking at the application I'd filled out, which had looked a lot like a medical form.