But it was no dream this time. Will was auctioning me to the highest bidder, giving me the experience of humiliation in my present reality … and just as in my dreams of Chelsea before the sadistic crowd, every piece of this amazing theatre roared through my s*x and shook it to the foundations of my soul.
Chelsea’s inspection was my inspection, the auction of her flesh was the auction of mine. Her fear was mine, her passion mine. I gave her life, thirty years after the fact, in real time, in a real world. She was no longer a dream. The dream was now substantial, with form and feeling and power to take me into the darkest part of my surrendering spirit.
The hands that probed my body… the auctioneer’s cunning, cutting voice… the bids… the sale… my shoved and prodded descent to the dungeon…
