CFNM Revenge Tales (6 page)

The sound of clinking
glasses rang around the hall as the women toasted to the clubs past, present
and future success. And so with the appetisers and formalities concluded, Amanda
wasted no time announcing the first course. She swept an arm elegantly
directing their attention to a set of wide, wooden, French doors.

“Ladies in this
growing age of female empowerment I think it only appropriate we even the
scores a little with regards to the genders. With great pleasure, I present to
you, the bunny boys.”

At her command the
doors swung open and in came twelve, slim, fresh-faced young men, each pushing
decorative silver trolley’s in front of them, each wearing nothing but a black bow
tie, black silky boxer shorts. On the back of them white, round, fluffy balls,
were a playful twist on the bunny girls associated with the Hefner Empire. A
few high-pitched giggles and, more guttural laughs, went around the hall as the
waiters unloaded their trolleys, attending to each table.

Rosie was biting her
lip, trying not to laugh as Christina more or less said with a nod of the head,
a purse of the lips, ‘Oooh he’s a bit tasty.’ The other girls’ expressions said
all that needed to be said. Each of them was unmistakably enjoying the view of
their sexy young waiter as he moved around the table, placing a selection of
artfully constructed dishes onto its surface.

As he did so Bianca
couldn’t resist giving his bum a surreptitious squeeze, which the young waiter
hid, apart from a slight gasp. Only when he’d finished laying out the artful
looking dishes did he step back, replacing the female waitress by the wall. She
gave him a smirk as they passed and took the now empty trolley away.

The women wasted no
time picking at the colourful plates before them. The nouvelle inspired food,
truly was divine, Michelin starred quality. Rosie and the girls savoured every
mouthful as they satiated their appetites and quenched their thirst. Calling on
their semi naked waiter several times to top up their glasses. It was a
reoccurring theme in the hall as each table made the most of the ‘fine’
service. Jokes about rampant rabbits did the rounds as the male waiters moved
back and forth with bunny like energy.

Before long every
woman had, had her fill, and dutifully the bunny boys took away the used plates
and cutlery. The young female waitresses returned to their spots next to the
wall, no doubt keen not to miss what was about to come next. For it was time
for the evening’s main event to commence and Rosie sensed a definite buzz of
anticipation in the hall.

Once more Amanda their
hostess took to the stage, only this time as she did so, the velvet curtain
opened, the lights dimmed, and some overhead spotlights focused on the wide
stage that was now revealed before them.

“Hmmm very tasty,”
said Amanda, now positioned behind a silver lectern on one side of the stage.
“I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did, especially those cute bunny boys.”

Another of those wide
grins creased her face.

“I’m sure you’ll find
the next course equally as scrumptious, for it’s time to begin tonight’s main
proceedings. Ladies prepare yourselves, you’re about to be introduced to some
of the sexiest studs on gods green earth. And remember, all money will be going
to good causes, so feel free to loosen those purse strings. But without delay I
declare Club Divines very first slave auction officially open.”

The hostess and now
auctioneer slammed down a wooden gavel to a smattering of applause and a few whoops,
two of the loudest coming from Christina and Bianca. Rosie smiled at their
exuberance. Above the din, Amanda welcomed to the stage her pretty assistant,
Tiffany, and slave numero uno, Hunky Hugo.

Slender and graceful Tiffany
appeared first, in a spangly lilac dress that sparkled in the overhead
spotlights. As she strutted confidently onto the stage with a naughty smile,
she pulled at a leather lead slung over one shoulder. It was soon apparent just
why she looked so happy.

The lead was connected
leash like to the collar of Hugo, who followed shuffling onto the stage looking
like a slave from ancient Rome. His hands were cuffed behind his back by black
leather bonds, his legs shackled by chains and his modesty barely concealed by
a simple pair of tight white briefs.

He was muscular and
handsome, with a mop of dark hair and his adorable smile told the ladies he was
more than happy to play the slave. The women broke into a smattering of
applause, signalling their approval. He certainly lived up to his name thought
Rosie.

“As you can see Mr
Hunky here has a number of distinctive qualities,” said Amanda, surveying the
young hunk.

Tiffany proceeded to
parade him across the stage for the perusal of the all female audience, all of
whom seemed noticeably pleased with the quality of the night’s first serving.
She guided him to the centre of the stage and stepped back slightly, leaving
Hugo stood in the spotlight as Amanda read out his vital statistics. Not that
they were necessary, his outfit left little to the imagination.

Six foot two, hundred
and seventy pound, Hugo, went on to fetch a princely sum. Although the bidding
was fun, rather than fiercely competitive, the price was more than reasonable
given what was to be expected of the slaves. Not much was off limits.

With the first sale of
the evening completed, Tiffany led him to the side of the stage and handed him
over to a freckled young waitress. Grinning like the cat that got the cream,
she placed a silver chain with key around his neck, before taking hold of his
leash and leading him through the tables.

The successful bidder
was a raven-haired lady with porcelain skin, and a stylish black dress with a
sweeping cut down one side. She took the key from his neck, unshackled his legs
and swiftly had him kneel at her side. Like a loyal puppy dog, he did just
that, much too the amusement of her table and of course to the on looking
women.

Their focus on him
didn’t last long, however, as the next of the slaves was brought out, once
again chained and shackled. It was a clean-shaven, blonde-haired, blue-eyed
young man who looked like a model from one of those preppy clothes commercials,
albeit admittedly without the clothes.

“Say hello to Luke
everybody and ladies, make sure to have a good Look,” said Amanda with a playful
smile.

They didn’t need any
encouragement. His firm biceps, strong legs and tight pants were receiving
plenty of attention. And just like Hugo before him, Luke fetched a worthy
price. Sold to an elegant blonde with a bob cut at table one. As he was led
from the stage Amanda gave him the once over clearly liking what she saw.

And so with the
champagne flowing, two slaves off the market and two very happy tables, the
evening was getting into the flow of things. Rosie and the girls were more than
happy to bide their time for the right guy. As it was they were loving the
show. If the bunny boys had been cute, with the slim smooth features of young
adults, then the slaves, though still young, had the strong muscular physiques
of men.

“These slaves
certainly are dreamy,” said Amanda, looking down from the stage at Hugo and
Luke with a glint her in eye. “Shall we have another?”

The hall erupted into
a cheerful chorus of ‘yes’, making it clear that was exactly what they wanted.

I think that’s a yes,”
joked Amanda with a smirk. “Please put your hands together for our next slave
of the evening, our very own Italian stallion, muscular meaty, Marco.”

It couldn’t be thought
Rosie. It was. As her very own Marco appeared chained and shackled, his lean
buff body fully on display in the standard small white briefs, Rosie’s eyes
widened.

“Oh my god, I know
that guy,” she quietly muttered, watching transfixed as the vivacious Tiffany
led Marco across the stage.

Her four friends
turned towards her in surprise. It was they now in the dark wanting answers.

“What, how?” asked an
intrigued Christina.

Rosie looked at them
with giddy disbelief in her eyes.

“He’s my gym
instructor.”

When Rosie had
explained to the girls all about Marco, including his ‘touchy, feely’ approach,
they knew they had to have him. To whistles and the odd catcall Marco took up
his position at the centre of the stage. Under the glare of the lights he was
unable to make out any of the female faces.

“My, my, my, you
ladies are being spoilt rotten tonight, just look at those muscles.”

Marco flexed his pecs
a few times and flashed Amanda a cheeky grin that said he was more than up for
the night ahead. Little did he now what lay in store.

“Show us his bum,”
came a cheeky request from the audience.

Amanda looked at them
visibly pleased. She nodded to Tiffany, who much to the delight of the woman
strode forward, turned Marco around and pulled the back of his briefs down,
revealing his firm, toned backside.

“Jeez you could cut
glass on that ass,” said Penelope impressed.

"I’d like to
try,” Denise added to a background of girly giggles.

Back up on the stage,
Tiffany proceeded to give his ass a gentle slap, then wince and shake her hand,
playfully pretending it was hurt. Laughter filled the hall. Mercifully from
Marco’s perspective she pulled up his pants allowing him to turn around without
exposing anymore of himself. Despite being something of an exhibitionist, more
than comfortable in his own skin, being half naked like this in front of a
crowd of women was intimidating even for him.

When he’d applied to
the ad looking for men in their twenties, with good bodies, outgoing
personalities, he’d not really known what to expect. He’d quickly got some
idea, however, upon seeing his small outfit and then hearing the cheering, jeering
crowd, as he’d waited off stage.

What he did know was
that this was a great way to make use of the sculpted body he’d carved out,
make some extra cash aside from his relatively low paid gym work. He’d of
course past any auditions with flying colours and immediately been pencilled in
as a lot for the auction. The organisers had wanted confidant guys, verging on
cocky. Knowing very well it would make it all the more fun for their guests
having them following orders.

“Well ladies I think
you can see this one’s rather special,” said Amanda pausing to let them take in
the third hunk of the night. “I think its time to begin the bidding.”

The women evidently
liked what they saw and bids came thick and fast from around the hall. Rosie
and the girls however, determined to get him, stayed with it. A few of the
other tables seeing that the young group of girls wanted him so badly, kindly
dropped out of the running, for the night was young and there was plenty more
thoroughbreds yet to come.

And so, successfully
pitching in together, the girls managed to secure him for a reasonable price,
given what was ahead of him.

“Going once, going
twice, sold to table six,” said Amanda slamming the gavel down. “At something
of a bargain price I‘d say.”

Marco was led from the
stage and like Hugo and Luke before him, handed over to the beaming young
waitress who by her book had drawn the lucky straw. She placed the silver chain
and key around his neck, letting her hand trail against his firm chest as she
did so. Rosie meanwhile was waiting excitedly, eager to see the look on Marco’s
face. Her birthday treat had suddenly taken on a whole new meaning.

Despite being led by a
leash, cuffed and chained like a dangerous convict, Marco retained his cocky
smirk. As he approached table six however, his face dropped.

“Hello stranger,” said
Rosie, standing as he was led over to her.

“Rosie,” Marco
stammered, the pitch of his voice indicating his shock.

“Looks like you’ve
just become our new slave boy,” she said, flashing him a sexy smile and taking
the lead from the young waitress.

Marco didn’t know what
to say, it was one thing stripping off like this in front of a bunch of
strangers, completely another for someone such as Rosie. The strong, alpha
image, he’d been rather clumsily attempting to cultivate, was shattered. The
two eyed each other for a moment, both thinking back to the gym earlier in the
day.

“Well aren’t you going
to introduce us?” asked Bianca, breaking the silent standoff.

“With pleasure,” Rosie
said circling the table.

By the time the next
slave appeared Marco was stood between Rosie and Christina having been
introduced to everyone at the table. He’d managed a polite ‘hello’ and peck on
the cheek, but was still taken aback by what had happened in the last five
minutes. The girls of course hadn’t been shy in letting their hands wander,
having heard all about Marco’s roaming ways. Their giggles and satisfied smiles
said they were more than pleased with their purchase.

An excited clamour was
again rippling through the audience as Tristan, a tall and athletic man with a
rower’s physique was led across the stage.

“Look, I’m sorry about
the misunderstanding before,” Marco whispered down to Rosie.

“Oh you will be,” she
replied, with a twinkle in her eye as bright as that of her sparkling golden
dress.