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Vixen on the Block For Anya_Arctic By Draconicon

Ever since slavery became legal, a substantial portion of the population decided to embrace the new social order and throw themselves into the slave trade. Surprisingly, more people offered to become slaves than wanted to become slave traders. It worked out well for the economy that way, but it certainly wasn't the way that those in charge expected the people below them to act.

According to the new laws, there were four ways that one could become a slave, four ways in which one could be owned. The first, and easiest, was to throw oneself out the door and offer their leash to everyone that came by. Eventually, someone was bound to take you, but it had the risk of being taken in by someone that might not treat you well. After all, a collared person in public - leashed or not - invited anyone that had a master's license to come along and take you, and while a license promised that someone had gone through all the requisite classes, it didn't mean that they were likely to be kind to you.

The second way, a little more difficult but still easy, was to go to the local Sub Socials. If you were of a decent social class, lower-middle or higher, then there were social gatherings that catered to any number of interests. Slavery was a new one, but it was quickly growing, and there were many resources from bulletin boards to job notifications for those looking for slaves or those looking to hire them. It was still a bit risky, but there was more screening involved, as well as more people looking to help each other.

The third way, open to those with a great deal of money, was to hire a master. It was a bit atypical, considering what a slave was meant to be, but it worked for those that were looking for one quickly and with a good reputation. Operating through various double-blinds and ensuring total anonymity, it didn't allow the total ownership and control that the other methods allowed, but it made sure that nobody knew what you were doing except for you and your owner.

The final, and most difficult, method of becoming a slave involved joining the local Academy. Separate from universities, the Academies were places where those that were serious about becoming a slave - those that wanted it more than the others, those that were willing to dedicate their lives to an owner - were able to sign up for classes on the subject. They were able to train their bodies, push themselves to the edge of their stamina and endurance and mental state, and become true slaves. When they graduated, they were auctioned, with buyers that were screened for skills as masters, sufficient income to support two people, and everything else someone in charge of someone else needed.

This is the story of a vixen who had pursued the fourth option, who has graduated and is about to go to auction.

If she had been brought to the Auction Cell two years ago, Anya was pretty sure that she would have been too scared to step inside. The clear cylinder looked more like a cage or a testing tube than an examination chamber, and despite her desires, there was something about being trapped naked in something so inescapable from the inside that left her shivering. Erotically, yes, but also in terror.

But the two years in the Academy had been good for something. The vixen had worked hard to get herself where she was, and she wasn't going to make her professors - her temporary masters - think that it had been a mistake to let her graduate.

"Slave Anya."

Even the title that the wolf at her side called her was a reminder of what she'd gained. Those that had been called would be called 'slave,' too, but there was a capital to the word for her. She had earned that. She was...She was a good slave. She could do as she was told.

The white-furred vixen swallowed her nervousness and stepped forward. The wolf opened the top of the tube for her, and then helped her lower herself inside. She was held suspended about five three feet from the bottom of the tube when he let go, letting her fall to the metal floor. The top closed again, and she was left alone.

Her heart was racing, but she told herself again and again that it was fine, that she would be let out again later. She was good enough to get a good price at auction, and people would want her.

She hoped.

No, they'll want me. I'm good. I'm good at being a slave. They've all said so.

The white-furred arctic fox took another deep breath, her three tails twitching behind her. The blue tips were flicking this way and that out of the corner of her eyes, and her ears were trying to lay flat on the top of her head. She made them stay up, running her hands through her hair and trying to keep it from going flat. It needed to bounce, to swing, to sway when she was showing off. Her legs spread just a bit, her hand going down to her sex and feeling it. It was just a bit dry, so she rubbed at herself until it was wet enough to show up for anyone that came to her tube.

Just get it right. Get it right, and tonight, you go home with an owner. Tonight, you go home with someone that will treat you right.

She had been looking forward to this for a long time. Ever since slavery became legal - and since enough of the stigma of giving up your freedom to another had faded from society - she had wanted to have someone over her. She wanted someone to tell her that things were okay. That she was allowed to be who she was. Someone that wanted her for what she was, who she was, and wanted to make her do the things that she wanted to do.

So far, it had worked out. So far, the professors and masters at the Academy had liked her. She slipped into sub-mode easier than most of her classmates, and could 'live' in that state for a lot longer than most of the others she knew. She'd scored high on oral skills, and had done better than average with bondage lessons.

Hell, her pain tolerance was off the charts, and they'd had to get the doctors in afterwards with what she'd let them do to her just to prove that she could take it. She was good, damn good at what she did.

She didn't have to be nervous, but she was.

Groaning, the vixen took a few deep breaths, her tails coiling around her middle, wrapping about her like a belt, then like a sash as the other two got involved. The three tails were almost like clothing in how much they covered, something that she knew that some buyers would like, and others would hate. She'd need to watch them, study them, guess what they'd want to see more than the others.

She looked out through the glass. The buyers would be coming soon. The doors were not open just yet, but she could make out the Academy staff getting ready, standing by the great doors. Other slaves would be situated in their own tubes further down the line, ready to be examined by those that were interested in them. She was not alone here.

Alright...start with showing yourself off... she told herself. Show off your breasts and butt first. Don't get into the other good stuff unless they're showing an interest. Don't want to get tired too fast.

The loud groan that filled the room was all the announcement that she and the other slaves got about the door opening. Immediately, Anya dropped to her knees, moving to all fours and throwing her ass out a bit, giving anyone that looked at her tube a profile shot.

She was all too aware of the dangling weight of her breasts, the cool air in the tube making her nipples harder than they'd normally be. Anya shifted her position slightly, lifting one hand from the ground, posing like a good girl with her hand to her chest.

The people filed in, one of them - an orca - coming right up to her canister. He was bigger than she expected, standing at about six and a half feet tall, and she could tell that he was interested from the way that his cock was already throbbing in his pants, pushing forward and begging for attention.

Aquatic species weren't her first choice, but she admitted that he would probably be a good enough partner if she got his attention and his loyalty. From the way that he looked over her, she guessed that he'd like it if she showed off her ass, so she turned, slowly backing up.

The feeling of the cold glass pressing against her rump sent a shiver down her spine, but she kept pushing back, spreading her ass cheeks by grinding them against the glass. It didn't take long for her to feel the chilly material pressing right against her hole, and she stopped, lowering her head to the ground.

"Please enjoy the view, sir," she said, knowing that the intercom in the tube would pick up her voice. "This one hopes that sir will enjoy the view of her asshole. This one hopes that if you buy her, that you will fuck her as many times as you can, and make her drip with what you fill her with."

"Heh, you like it up the ass, huh?" the orca asked, out of sight.

"This one loves to be used in all of her holes, sir. She wants to be fucked hard, wants to be nothing but a toy for you."

"Mmmph..."

She was pretty sure that he was jerking himself off to her, now. She could recognize the way that he grunted, the way that he groaned. Her heart fell just a bit; if he came, then he would probably move on, using her as wank material and little more.

But she couldn't just give up. That would put a bad mark down, make her look like she was uppity, that she wasn't a good, obedient slave in providing pleasure and good things to anyone that asked for it. She ground her hips back against the glass, feeling the cool surface grinding against her pussy as well as her ass as she slid back and forth, hearing the soft squeak of her juices against the smooth glass.

"Please, stare at this one, look at her, look at how she wants you."

"Mmmph...fuck...You want me to fuck you that badly?"

"Sir would be welcome to, if sir bought her," she said.

"Mmm...tempting..."

But it wasn't going to happen. She would have liked it if it was, considering that he looked...satisfying, but she could already hear that he wouldn't. She lifted her hips enough to look back between her legs, and just as expected, she could see him sheathing his cock back into his pants.

"Sorry, girl. You're good, but I think I want something a bit bigger. Someone that can take it, you know?"

"This one understands, sir." The vixen nodded, slowly pulling her ass away from the glass. "This one wishes you luck with finding someone suitable."

"You'll find someone, I'm sure. Good luck."

The orca stepped away, his eyes already on the other men and women that were in tubes as far as the eye could see. She sighed, getting back to her feet and using her tails to wipe down the glass where she'd left her fluids. No need to obscure the view of her.

She could sort of understand the orca's worries, and on one hand, she applauded him for wanting to take care of his submissive. She was barely more than five feet tall, after all - five foot four, if anyone really cared - and he was over a foot taller than her. He could be justifiably worried over whether she could take a bigger cock inside of her.

The thing was, she could. She had even gone so far as to hire a black market teacher to show her how to take feral-sized cocks, and had gone so far as to tie herself beneath a horse more than once and be fucked by a big stallion. She knew how to take big cocks, and she knew how to take pain.

But if the orca didn't want to look at her file and evaluation to see that...

His loss, she tried to tell herself, but that didn't make her feel that much better. It honestly made her feel like she wasn't worth it, that she was not good enough.

I'm good! she told herself, but it wasn't quite enough to banish that feeling.

Thankfully, another potential buyer walked up to her tube, this one a smaller fox male. Not quite her ideal master, either, but he carried a flogger at his side that was almost long enough to count as a whip, and he had a smirk on his face that sent a shiver down her spine. There was potential there.

She lowered herself to her knees again, gripping her chest and pushing her breasts up and together. The blue flesh of her nipples showed between her fingers as she placed them carefully, lowering her head submissively.

"May this one please you, sir?"

"Maybe. Let me see you. All of you."

"Yes, sir."

Anya stood up, slowly turning around in place. She felt her ass swaying slowly, felt the weight of the cheeks as they ground against each other. Her thighs rubbed against one another too, not much, but enough, and she made sure to keep her tails high and away. She lifted her arms over her head, happy to feel her breasts still staying up and perky. She still had a few years before their weight would drag them down a bit, enough time to grab someone.

She kept turning, keeping herself close to the glass, flattening herself against it so that everyone could see, not just the fox. Knowing better than to look at him and maybe look like she was demanding attention, she kept her head down, staring down at her own feet as she turned in a circle.

When she was back to facing him, her breasts flattened against the glass, the fox was grinning wider. He pressed a button on the console at the base of the tube, and she heard the beep of a payment being accepted.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she watched him walk to the access panel on the side, going under the tube and then climbing out through a panel in the floor. He pulled his flogger from his side, pulling it tight against his fingers.

"So, you have a high pain tolerance, do you?"

"Yes, sir. This one knows how to take anything that can be dished out," the vixen said.

"Let's see how you look with a bit of red in your fur."

He swung the flogger, hard. The ends caught her in the stomach before pulling back, leaving her sucking it in a little bit. He knew what he was doing, too, because he kept it spinning, swinging it around again, and again, hitting her breasts and her thighs before he pulled it in tight. They left soft welts behind, sharp, cold flashes of pain turning to a warm heat immediately after.

Anya had taken that and more in the Academy. It might have made another graduate shiver, moan, even collapse, but for her, it didn't even get her to hiss from the impact. She barely tensed up, and her fur covered that.

The fox arched an eyebrow as he looked at her, spinning the long flogger slowly as he looked her over.

"You aren't like the others."

"No, sir, this one is not."

She shifted a bit, turning on the spot.

"Would sir like to try somewhere else?"

"Lift one leg."

Already guessing where he was going with this, the vixen did as she was told, grabbing one of her legs and lifting it by the knee, holding it against her side. The position left her needing to lean against the glass, her pussy and ass exposed to her potential master. The cool air was like a gentle slap to her holes, considering how wet she was.

The flogger was a much harder slap.

Her toes curled, her asshole clenched, her pussy twitched...but that was all. She was used to that and more from others, but it was a good warm-up. She smiled at the fox, only to see him sigh.

"Sorry. This isn't going to work."

"Why not, sir? Has this one displeased you?"

"No, it's more...more that I want someone that reacts more," he explained. "I want someone that does scream when they're hit. Someone that doesn't know how to control it."

"...This one is sorry that she cannot be more of a victim, sir."

"Eh, it is what it is. Good luck."

He disappeared again. She displayed as neutral a face as she could summon, but despite herself, she was already feeling a bit concerned.

That was two, now. Two buyers that had found something wrong with her, two people that had decided to go for someone else. One hadn't bothered to read what she could do, and the other had looked at her chart and decided that if he couldn't break her exceptionalism, he didn't want her. What was she supposed to do?

There was a part of her that wanted to cry, and - not for the first time - she was thankful for the training that she had gone through. Crying was not a good look for a submissive, let alone a slave. A slave cried when the master allowed her to, and not a moment before. Even if the fox had wanted someone that would cry and scream, most of them, surely, wouldn't.

She shivered. She just hoped that she wasn't wrong, that she hadn't pushed herself in the wrong direction and made herself unbuyable. No, she had to be positive. She had to think clearly. She had to -

Another buyer. She turned as she felt the eyes of someone else upon her, only to find herself face to face with a dragon.

He was a bigger male, standing taller than the orca did at seven feet even. He didn't wear much, barely a leather harness around his chest with another bit of leather over his crotch. He wore a toe-ring around the big toe of his left foot, and an anklet around the right foot. He was thick in the shoulders and a bit thicker in the belly, having the look of someone that was strong but didn't particularly push themselves, but it didn't do anything to take away from the bulge barely covered by the leather thong.

That said, it was his eyes that held her attention, and the eyes that made her shiver.

They were white, empty, looking more like shifting clouds than a person's eyes. Murky in a way, it was impossible to tell exactly what he was looking at, but she had a feeling...

The vixen turned around, going to all fours and backing up again. This time, however, she didn't push her ass against the glass, but her feet. She felt the cold against her blue pads and her toes, the fur on her feet doing nothing to protect them.

"How may this one serve you, sir?" she asked again.

"Heh, for one, roll over and let me see your face."

She started to move, but he tapped the glass just as one of her feet was about to lose contact with it.

"Ah ah. No pulling those back. Good guess, by the way."

She nodded, blushing slightly at the praise as she turned to face him again. This time, she spread her legs a bit further, her feet forming the top of a heart-like shape as she looked through it at him.

"This one is happy that she could guess your pleasures correctly, sir."

"You have been studying long?"

"This one has graduated after two years of study, sir."

"Very quick."

"Thank you, sir."

"Touch yourself. As deep and far as you can go."

"That, um, will be fisting, sir."

"And? I said do it."

The dragon's voice was just firm enough to make her go along with it. She was barely wet enough to leave a stain on the glass, but she had been trained to make herself tight, loose, or whatever medium between the two that the master of her future decided he would want. She forced herself to relax, sheathing two, three, four fingers inside of her before thrusting her hand in up to the wrist.

She gasped at the sudden stretching, particularly as she hadn't been quite ready for that. She shivered, her toes curling against the glass, her claws touching it and scraping slightly.

As she gradually opened her eyes again, she was half-surprised that the dragon wasn't touching himself, too. Instead, he just stood there, his hands at his sides, his cock growing in his pants, but never taking it further than that. He just smiled.

"You are an appealing looker. Tell me, what kind of specialty do you have?"

"This one...mmmph...this one is a slave...that molds herself...to what the master wants."

"Ahh, so more of an adjustable one, hmm?"

"Y-yes, sir," she said as she started popping her hand in and out of her pussy. This sort of play was less familiar to her, but the feeling of being stared at was new. She knew she was sexy, of course. She'd been called that by her teachers many times. But this was different. The feeling of having a potential master staring at her and obviously enjoying the show as much as he did the sexuality was something that was very new, and very sexy to her.

The soft punch, punch, slap, slap sound of her hand entering and leaving her sex left her trembling, and her self-control was wavering as she deliberately 'abused' herself at the command of another. She knew that this dragon liked the sight of her feet, liked having them pressed against the glass, so she pushed them more firmly against it, grinding them against the surface, and she could see his bulge grow at the way that she showed off.

It was nice to know that she was getting it right this time.

"So, pain tolerance is high..."

She kept herself from wincing, remembering what had happened when the fox had noted that. The dragon kept talking.

"So, does that mean that you can take whatever I do to you without breaking?"

"That's...this one would say so, yes."

"Good. I can get a bit rough, and it's good to know that I don't have to worry about you breaking on me."

She let out a small sigh of relief, though that as much due to the reason gesturing for her to stop fisting herself as it was to know he wasn't going to insist she break.

"Stand up."

Anya did as she was told, her arms over her head as she displayed herself. Once more, there was no telling where the dragon was looking, and this time, she didn't even have that slight tingle of guessing where he might be looking. A few minutes passed, then the dragon nodded to himself.

"I think you'll work out."

"Sir?"

"I'll buy you."

"Just...just like that?"

"Why not? You definitely have skills. From the sound of it, you need to get to know a master before you can show off everything you can do, so, let's have you get to know me."

The dragon pulled out a credit card, dragging it through the reader at the base of the tube. As he started pressing buttons, Anya felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She'd been bought. Better still, she'd been bought by someone that was nicer, and someone that was a bit more extreme than some of the masters. She would have someone that would use her hard...

And someone that wanted to get to know her, if she understood him right. She blushed. She had hoped for something like that, but...this was better than she'd ever dreamed.

A collar, two ankle restraints, a toe ring, and a corset popped into her tube. Accessories that her new master had bought, she imagined; the auction tube was outfitted with things to buy in addition to the person in it. She started to reach for it, then realized something else.

If they were popping out already, then it was no longer an auction. This dragon had just paid her auto-buy price, which would have been ten times the cost of what she would have sold for at the base level.

Her hands shook as she started to pull on the collar, the leather pressing tight to her neck. Just who was she getting involved with?

The End