Auctioning Off Isabel

When I met Isabel, she had just turned eighteen and I was nearly twenty. She was shy and seemed slightly confused at first sight when I met her at a student house party. She had blonde hair, her cheeks were slightly flushed and she wore wire-rimmed glasses that looked a bit as if her mother had picked them out. I asked her if she wanted a beer too, she said yes, please, and from then on we talked all night long, suddenly noticing with surprise that it was dawing and all the other guests had already left. As we said goodbye in the first rays of sunlight, she pressed a hasty kiss to my lips, smiled bemusedly as if amazed at herself, and then cycled away on an old bike. I was absolutely fascinated by her. Shortly afterwards we became a couple.

Our first time was great. Isabel came to my tiny flat where I had cooked elaborately. We really took our time getting to know each other's bodies. I had already guessed that her body was beautiful, but when I undressed her I was still completely overwhelmed. Her skin was flawless and felt so soft, and her whole slim body smelled like spring. When we were finally naked, she sat on top of me and with a smile on her face took my hard penis in her hand, rubbed it against her tender, wet labia and then slowly lowered her pelvis. I felt the tip of my penis slowly being enclosed by her lips, it felt so incredibly good that I thought for a moment I was dreaming. The first night we slept together three times, and when we woke up the next morning we went straight for each other again.

It was the first time for her, at least that's what she always said, even if that wasn't physically true, because she had already slept with another man once. But the guy had been stoned and had already come after barely a minute, so she always said I was the first man for her. Our sex life was great. Even though she was rather shy in public, she was very adventurous and daring in bed. She loved having her bottom stroked, her butt hole was by far the most erogenous zone after her vagina. Strangely, she never smelled unpleasant even there, and she loved it when I caressed her with my tongue.

At some point I noticed that she couldn't refuse me any wish when we were having sex and she was sitting on me. She would say yes to everything. Even if she had said beforehand that she would not join me to the concert of my favourite band under any circumstances, she said yes in that state and then stuck to it later on - in that respect she was a real man of honour, so to speak.

„You have to keep a promise," she then said, shrugging her shoulders.

We stayed together, and a few years later, after graduating, I had found work in a small publishing house for school books and Isabel worked in a social institution and looked after people who had fallen into financial hardship, a job she enjoyed very much because she often managed to help people get their lives back on track. We had moved into a small but nice flat where we felt very comfortable. By now Isabel was twenty-four and my twenty-sixth birthday was coming up.

I still thought Isabel was beautiful, but I didn't know whether others felt the same way. We visited a spa in our town from time to time, and over time I noticed other men sneaking glances at my girlfriend and how "coincidentally" the sauna we were going to was filling up with single men. In Germany, people usually go to the sauna naked. Isabel didn't seem to notice the attention and called me crazy when I asked her about it. She liked her body but didn't think anything of it and couldn't imagine that the men in the sauna were secretly staring at her.

"They're just hot," she said with a laugh, "saunas have nothing to do with sex at all, they're all busy sweating."

This actually seemed to apply to her, she moved naked in the spa without any shame and also without any awareness that she was being watched. While other women immediately wrapped a towel around their bodies when they came out of the sauna, Isabel walked naked through the entire sauna area without ever covering her body.

So it sometimes happened that she gave the men who were watching her more or less inconspicuously glimpses of which they had not dared to dream. While she was wiping off her sweat in the sauna, for example, she might spread her legs in a way that would have been found obscene in other women, and when she picked up her glasses, which had slipped next to the lounger, she would mindlessly bend down after them so that anyone who happened to be behind her at the time could see directly between her slightly open legs. She made it look natural and innocent - which it was. I also noticed that I enjoyed the way the other men looked longingly at my girlfriend and that it even aroused me a little to my own astonishment.

One evening, when we came out of the spa with our hair still wet, we were approached by an older couple. By older I mean older than us, they were probably in their early forties and looked quite pleasant. The woman said they had been watching us and thought we had a very nice look.

"It's so rare," the man said, "for people to radiate beauty from the outside as well as the inside."

"Uh, thank you very much," I said a little embarrassed.

"We would like to invite you to an event. To a very special evening."

She said it would be a very elegant and entirely sophisticated event, somewhat frivolous and sometimes erotic, but she did not want to reveal more at this point.

"I think," she added, "that you would have a lot of fun."

And it was not an official event, she said, you could only attend if you were invited by a member. She gave us a small black business card with just a QR code on it. The two smiled mysteriously at us.

"Maybe see you soon," the woman said, then she laughed some more at our confused faces, the next moment they had disappeared into the night. We looked at each other and then had to laugh too, because we were both standing there with our mouths open.

At home, of course, we immediately scanned the code, but the website we were then directed to didn't give us any more information either. It only said: You were invited to dream with your eyes open. Below that, you could enter your name in a field and register. And underneath it said: evening dress required.

We looked at each other and had to laugh again. That made a very mysterious impression. We discussed for a while whether we should dare, and finally our curiosity won. I entered our names and pressed the button that didn't say "OK" but "dream". Shortly afterwards we received a password. It was: moth. And we were informed that all participants had to present a current health test.

Since Sandra didn't own an evening gown, we went out the next afternoon to buy one. I would wear my dark suit that I still had from my graduation party. After a long search, we found a simple black silk dress that was within our budget but still looked very classy. It was relatively wide-cut at the back and flattered Isabel's body beautifully, I thought. The obviously gay salesman was also very taken with the dress.

"It would have to be worn with an invisible bra, though," the salesman said, as the straps of Isabel's bra were now visible at the back, "or just without a bra." We were the only customers in the changing area, and because Isabel had probably also noticed that the shop assistant was gay, she unceremoniously pulled the dress down, took off her bra so that we could briefly see her bare breasts, and then pulled the dress back up. The shop assistant smiled.

"If I had even the slightest interest in the female sex, I would probably faint now. You can obviously wear the dress without a bra."

The dress was still very elegant, but with Isabel's nipples now very clearly showing underneath, it was also a little risqué. From the side you could see the base of her breasts, it looked great and very sexy. Maybe just the right thing for the occasion, we thought. The shop assistant had pointed out that you had to wear a thong with the dress, otherwise the pants would show. Isabel didn't really like thongs and didn't own one, so we bought her a very skimpy black one. It really only covered the bare essentials, from behind she looked practically naked because the fabric disappeared completely between her flawless buttocks.

Suddenly, Friday had arrived, the day the event was to take place. To mark the occasion, we took a taxi early in the evening to take us to the address. We were both very excited and had to laugh nervously the whole time because we didn't know what to expect. It was a balmy, warm summer evening and still light. The taxi took us to the villa area of the city. It stopped at a large gate. As we stood in front of the bell, I hesitated to press the button. Isabel grinned and pressed the bell. A voice asked for the password, I said it in a trembling voice. The gate opened. We walked along a gravel path, at the end of which was an impressive Art Nouveau villa. A few people were still standing in front of it, talking. Everyone was dressed very expensively, in my somewhat staid dark suit I felt slightly underdressed. Almost all of them were older than us. As we passed them, they eyed us with interest and goodwill, although I had to admit that Isabel attracted considerably more attention than I did.

A man in livery greeted us. We told him our names and he ticked them off in a list.

"You are aware that among the newcomers a woman will be chosen for an auction, for a good cause?" he then asked us.

"Er, no...," I said.

"Do you still want to participate?"

"What kind of auction is it?" asked Isabel.

At that moment, the couple who had invited us also arrived. They were very happy that we were there and hugged us like old friends. Now they also told us their names: Susanne and Lukas.

"Great that you came!" said Susanne.

"We just heard about this auction," I said.

The two nodded.

"It's a little thrill for the newcomers...", Lukas said smiling.

"Did you guys do that too?" asked Isabel.

Susanne nodded.

"And?" asked Isabel.

"I wasn't chosen," said Susanne, "but just the idea was so exciting for both of us, we had the sex of our lives in the months afterwards."

We all had to laugh.

"Well, if you weren't chosen, then there's no danger for me at all," Isabel said, and she meant it quite seriously. Susanne was indeed a very beautiful woman. She did not notice the look on the woman's face, who seemed to think otherwise.

"But if you are chosen, what does that mean exactly?", I asked.

"It means that one can be bought like a painting at an auction. You're brought up on stage so everyone can see what's up for auction. Then the auction goes on and you belong to the person who buys you at then auction for three days."

„Holy", I said, "and when are those three days?"

"They start right after the event. The whole weekend until Monday morning at eight you then belong to the person who bought you at the auction."

"Er, and what do you have to do then?"

"Everything the new owner asks you to do."

"Everything?"

"Well, there are limits, of course. One must not be forced into physical pain. But otherwise one is obliged to be of service to the person and to do everything she asks."

"So one must also... have sex with the buyer?", I asked.

"I'd say" said the woman smiling, "that you'd have to be pretty kinky to buy someone at an auction only to have them clean your windows."

Isabel laughed nervously. She was enjoying the thrill, but she was also getting a little weak in the knees, I could feel it.

„No risk no fun," Lukas said to her, "maybe we'll buy you at the auction..."

The couple smiled at us and then said goodbye to go inside. The idea that the two of them would spend the next three days with Isabel and then she would have to do everything they asked of her made me shudder, but without quite realising it, the thought also excited me.

"Oh, basically we can do it, I won't be chosen anyway," Isabel said, "look around, there are so many beautiful women here who are a thousand times more likely to be chosen."

I looked around, and there were indeed a great many beautiful women to be seen, however, I found none nearly as beautiful as my own girlfriend. But I was probably not objective and still saw Isabel through rose-tinted glasses. I sensed that she definitely wanted to stay.

"A little thrill might be really exciting...", I said hesitantly.

"Is it possible to participate without the auction?", I asked the man at the entrance anyway.

"No, unfortunately that's not possible for newcomers," was the answer.

Isabel looked at me, I could see her liking the idea more and more.

"But what if you do get chosen?"

"Then you can bid for me," Isabel said.

The man at the entrance cleared his throat.

"I'm afraid that's not allowed. Husbands or partners are excluded from the auction."

"Hmm," I said.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, we won't do it."

"Well," I said, "after, you will have to spend three days with a strange man and not me. Or with a strange couple."

"Oh, they all look very sophisticated," said Isabel. In fact, there was no one to be seen who had an unpleasant air about them, "if it really comes to that - which it won't, definitely not - we'll both have a three-day adventure to tell our grandchildren about when they're of age."

I had to laugh.

"Well, all right," I then said, "you have to live dangerously sometimes."

"Then let me welcome you again," said the man at the entrance as we told him our decision. He bent down and attached an illuminated band to my friend's wrist. A small tag dangled from it, with the number 12 printed on it. It was now clear for everyone to see that Isabel was up for being auctioned.

"Then might I now ask you to move independently for the next ninety minutes," the clerk said to us, "because we naturally want to give eligible voters the opportunity to form their own opinions without constraint."

A woman, also dressed like a clerk, stepped up next to Isabel and held out her arm to her. She looked at me smiling in confusion, then took it and was lead into another room. I thought she looked more beautiful in her silk dress than ever before.

All the participants were entitled to vote, including me, and so, in order to comply with the by-laws, I also set out to "make up my own mind". A total of fourteen women wore luminous ribbons around their arms, and I chatted with a few of them, though I was quite distracted and kept trying to spot Isabel. When I saw her, it didn't help to reassure me, because she was surrounded by a group of men joking with her, and she seemed so natural and so desirable, laughing heartily and flirting with them, that I was suddenly sure she would be chosen. The men, I couldn't help noticing, were also looking more or less blatantly at her breasts. Of course, they could all see that she wasn't wearing a bra and didn't need to. Later, I saw her talking to two men in a somewhat quieter corner. She was blushing, apparently the two men were trying to persuade her to do something, but I couldn't understand what it was. The two men were quite insistent and it was only when my girlfriend finally complied that I realised what they wanted from her. Isabel rolled her eyes in joking annoyance and then for a brief moment pulled her dress to the side so that the two could briefly see her bare breasts. The two men were delighted. I was a little shocked.

From a distance I noticed how she enjoyed the attention. She had also apparently already had two or three glasses of champagne. What worried me further was the fact that she was also chatting to some women who seemed no less fascinated by her than the men, surreptitiously eyeing her slim body when Isabel didn't notice. I chose the woman with number 3, a petite girl with a wild dark head of curls, and dropped my voting card into a small box of polished dark wood. I wasn't planning to buy her at auction, but I liked her best of the other women.

The hall where the event was to take place was a kind of ballroom, the walls covered with dark red velvet. About 30 covered tables of various sizes stood in front of a stage, which was currently still covered with a velvet curtain. I had been sitting at one of the tables for a while when Isabel was finally shown to my table. She gave me a kiss and sat down next to me.

"Everything okay?", I asked her.

"Everything's okay," she replied, "it's quite fun here, isn't it?"

"You certainly can't complain about a lack of attention, can you?"

She grinned coquettishly.

"Jealous?"

"A little," I had to admit. "I've seen you show your breasts to those two men."

She laughed sheepishly.

"Oh, they just wouldn't give it a rest and insisted on seeing it for a moment. And then I thought that I am normally completely naked in the spa anyway, so I thought it is absurd to refuse their wish."

There was something wrong with that logic, but I was too confused by it all to realise what it was.

"So what did the men talk to you about?", I asked.

"Oh, all sorts of things," she said, "it was quite amusing."

I nodded. She sensed the question on the tip of my tongue.

"Yeah, I mean, sure, they did ask me some more intimate questions. But that was kind of to be expected. It was all civilised, though."

"What kind of questions?"

„Well, sexual questions."

"But what did they ask, I mean, specifically?"

"Well, how many men I've had sex with, what my favourite position is, whether I like giving blowjobs, whether my boyfriend satisfies me well, erogenous zones, that sort of thing."

"And what did you answer?"

"Well, the truth: that I've only slept with one man, that I actually like all positions, but if I had to choose one, it would be the one where I ride the man, that I can't say if I generally like giving blowjobs because I lack the experience for that, but that I love having your penis in my mouth and that sex with you is absolutely fantastic and I can't get enough of it."

I had to laugh.

"And what did you say about erogenous zones?"

"Also the truth. That my earlobes are completely insensitive, while my nipples react very blatantly, and..."

"And what?"

"You know..."

Yes, I knew.

"And weren't you embarrassed to be asked such intimate things?"

"I don't know, at first I was, but then I got used to it pretty quickly. It was fun to talk so openly."

Without my realising it, all the tables were now occupied, a sort of drum roll sounded, the curtain fell and a tall, very attractive man took the stage. His black skin shone in the spotlight, he wore a golden silk robe. He greeted us in a deep, velvety voice, introduced himself as "Sam" and made slightly suggestive jokes, but I was so excited that I could hardly follow his words. Several performances followed, a magician performed, two burlesque dancers did a striptease, a singer sang an opera aria. Isabel drank more champagne and seemed to enjoy the show, while I could think of nothing but the upcoming auction.

Finally, it was time. Two assistants in white feather costumes handed Sam a golden envelope like at the Oscars.

"Let's move on," Sam said through the microphone, "to the climax of this evening, which we are all already looking forward to. And I imagine 14 women must have a pretty high pulse rate right now, and there are probably only 14 people whose pulse rate goes even faster: their husbands."

Laughter in the audience. I saw Isabel laughing next to me too.

"I understand the election result is very, very clear this time, so a recount won't be necessary. Apparently, a big number of people in this hall want to spend the next three days with a very specific person."

Sam slowly tore open the envelope. The sound could be heard over the microphone. He pulled out a gold card and looked at it.

"I see," he said then, "a number. It is a wonderful number. And do you know why?"