Smriti And Kritikaji Rent My Ass Out
slave

This is not a normal story, either. It is again not linear. It is probably not going to turn you on. Go away if you don’t wanna read it. It is a non continuous sequel to my earlier story (search for it, ISS has a perfectly good search feature). As before, it will have gaps and I’m not gonna explain although I’ll give too much details for random things. As always, reachable at [email protected] and don’t care if you think this story is not true. “Baby, we need the money,” Smriti said as I carefully waxed up Kritikaji’s armpits and applied the peel off strip. “You don’t expect Kritika or myself to sell our asses no?” she said, checking her armpits and pussy to see if I did a good enough job with her waxing; “We are natural doms and you are a natural slave. We’ll hate it, you’ll like it. Tu samajhta kaiko nahi?” Kritikaji pulled my face up and kissed me tenderly. “Look, we had to quit and you know that. None of us were gonna put up with that idiot after he found out about us. And we are living a lavish lifestyle; karche ka paise teri maa ki phuddi thodi degi! We aren’t saying you have to and you know that. Smriti is being a bitch (Smriti came over and playfully slapped Kritikaji on her shoulder and started squeezing my balls as she likes to do when she is bored, and stuck a vibrator down her pussy) and using emo on my baby (she stuck her tongue down my throat and French kissed me for a minute). All we are saying is that we have a chance to make some money. We saw the rules; they cannot permanently scar you, nor can they do anything like cutting you or burning you and all. I know you don’t like dom without the cooling off, but it might be fun. I know how much my baby likes doing deviant stuff and being dominated (and she gives a mischievous grin and three tight slaps on my face)”. I grinned back. “That’s true! I’m just being a scared cat, being Smriti’s pansy slave that I am (I yelped a bit as Smriti playfully squeezed my balls extra tight here). But promise me no more than a week at a time and no back to back weeks na? I wanna be with you guys!” “Obviously,” both chorused as I peeled off the strips off Kritikaji to finish her waxing job and clambered up onto the bed with Smriti and pulled her vibrator out. As I entered my goddess’ wondrous pussy, Kritikaji wore the strap-on with the (now modified to be so) double dildo and entered my ass. “It is all controlled and these are high society chaps. They are paying us a minimum of five fucking lakh for a week. How bad could it be, really?” Smriti said, between her satisfied purring as I plough her deeper. “Yeah, how bad could it be”, I echoed, still worried, as Kritikaji’s nine inch long and four inches wide extra massive strap-on forced its way painfully into my anus, making me scream and push deeper into Smriti. To be honest, I was scared as shit. I thought back to the stupid day when I insisted on fucking both Smriti and Kritikaji at the same time in the board room of the o. Who the fuck knew there would be people in office at 9 in the night when office closes at 6! The three of us booked the board office room claiming it was for a new project. Right from 7 in the evening, we were running around naked in the board room, them whipping my ass, punching my balls while I lay on the board room’s huge table, making me drink their piss (and fuck we had to be careful with that since I couldn’t spill even a drop in the board room!) We had kept our shirts on in case anyone decided to knock. We figured we’ll sit on the other side of the table, away from the door. Kritikaji had worn a skirt so we figured she can quickly slip it on and open the door. Only we were sure no one would bother since no one would be around. Unfortunately, this motherfucker of an ass-licker to our team’s manager turned up to pick some files up at the office. He noticed the board room’s light from under the door and knocked. We quickly scrambled to set the stuff on the table, and ran behind it and sat. Kritikaji put her skirt on super fast and got the door. While it was a good plan, we didn’t account for one thing; the smell. The entire air-conditioned board room smelt of pussy! Figuring something was up, the motherfucker walked in, acting all normal and inquiring how come we were working in so late. Sure enough he walked over to the other side of the table and saw both Smriti and I naked from the bottom down, me with a raging hard-on and a condom on. “Ah, having our little fuck session in the board room eh?” he said and tried cupping Smriti’s breasts. Obviously Smriti got up and slapped his face. “Kya bey kutti! You’ll give your sopping hairy pussy to him but not me?” he yelled, grabbing Smriti by her cunt. Before I could do anything, Kritikaji, with her famous temper, grabbed the IP phone off the desk and banged him at the nape with it; the man crumpled down unconscious. Fortunately, I had some presence of mind. I realized we were done for in this office, given that the motherfucker was boss’ favourite and Smriti wasn’t exactly the apple of his eye. I figured we might as well make the most of it as we quit. I calmed Kritikaji down, who was still kicking the motherfucker, gave her a deep kiss and sat her down. Then I managed to help Smriti regain her composure – the poor thing was supremely pissed at being manhandled by this motherfucker – and explained the only way out to them. Smriti made the call to our manager. “Sir, this is Smriti here. We were working late today when Santosh turned up at office, presumably drunk (thankfully for us, he did have a drink! Hardly drunk, but it worked for us.) The bastard saw us and hurled expletives at Kritika and me, calling us whores who sleep around to get ahead (here she shuddered. Of course, it was actually because I was licking her and she hit an orgasm, but the shudder seemed in place with the conversation!) He called Baby an asshole who tries fucking every woman he can get. Then he proceeded to assault and grope us. It was filthy. Kritika managed to knock him out unconscious. Expect our resignations first thing in the morning tomorrow, and our lawsuit in the afternoon; we cannot work here.” We settled the matter for a sumptuous hundred and fifty lakhs, with an agreement never to work for the company or any of its affiliates. The manager obviously believed his lackey and not us, but had no option; they had no real evidence on us and we had a rock solid case! The day we got the money, Smriti and Kritikaji almost smothered me to death pressing my face to their boobs! Sadly, the women had no idea how to save, and blew almost a crore within the year, taking trips to exotic locations, and obviously buying more stuff to enjoy my slavery with, apart from shitloads of clothes and shoes! With fifty lakhs in the bank and three mouths to feed, none of whom wanted to get back to an office anymore after the year of decadent, depraved luxury, we were where we are now – trying to sell my ass for money. Thankfully, I wasn’t being pimped out to some random pervert at Kamathipura! This was a high class underground invite only gig with enough screenings to ensure only the highest class of people got in. We ourselves were damn lucky to have even gotten invited, much less offer ourselves (well, myself) for sale! In one of the few aborted attempts to earn money over the past couple of months, Smriti and Kritikaji decided to offer themselves as professional doms for money. A surprisingly large number of perverts got through to them but barely even ten percent of them had the money to pay the demanded fifty thousand for a day price (we had to keep it high enough to ensure we don’t fall in the radar of normal pimps or desperate perverts). Even of the seven who did turn up, five of them couldn’t put up with the sheer cruelty of my lovely mistress’ angry punishments. Smriti and Kritikaji were surprised I could put up with it and loved me more for it after this. A dom guy saw the ad we had put out and called to check if we were for real. Realizing we were, he thought to hook Smriti and Kritikaji onto this community of high society doms who throw money away to get obedient slaves. “There are rules, but not many follow them too strictly,” he said, attempting to convince them to take it up, “and I’m sure the five lakhs a week minimum bid would hardly be a problem for you!” not realizing they were noveau rich and barely had any money left to afford luxuries like slaves. But Kritikaji had entirely different plans; sell me for money and live like the rich spoil brat that she became. Kritikaji fled her house after the incident at the office; her folks did not trust her version and wanted nothing to do with her. She lived with Smriti and I, and both of us loved her too much to deny anything. Although I do her wrong – she loved me more than Smriti and was always gentler and more compassionate than my Mistress (as the incident from the last story showed). It was Kritikaji who convinced Smriti to even consider selling me; Mistress was dead against it initially. So we got our background checks run. Thankfully, they asked for the last ten months’ bank account report as part of the background check and we seemed like filthy stinking rich fucks on its basis; we got the hundred and fifty lakhs in installments of ten lakhs for the first year and the last thirty in one go. And we eventually went for our first meeting; obviously with no intent of buying or selling – we just wanted to check the place out first. The meeting happened in the residence of one of the community’s richer and more famous people and was shown to the outside world as an exclusive invite only to that party. Smriti bought and wore a Gucci dress while Kritikaji went all out, wearing one by Armani, and her Charles and Keith boots. I loved dressing both of them up that day, and the makeup was extra special since both wanted to be sure they fit in. I, of course, had to go as their slave so went buck naked and with a Versace collar and chain and my first (and still favorite) chastity cage. I crawled on all fours for the entire event, attached to Kritikaji since she wanted to seem “cool” with her slave. She kept tugging my chain harder, spanking me with a paddle occasionally, and of course perpetually crushing my balls; I loved it! She even made me eat her out during some of the bids, while Smriti went over to make out with a few of the participants, in an attempt to socialize. Kritikaji, of course, had to show me off to a bimbo of a guy just so he would make out with her. It was a very demure affair, with no flashy lights (it was mostly dimmed indirect lighting anyway) or noise. These people meant business and it was clear; slaves were quietly brought onto the stage nude, arms behind their head and legs spread wide. While an announcer softly announced details of the slave, his/her stats, and proclivities and pain threshold. The most shocking part of the event, however, was the sheer number of celebrities there! Business people, Bollywood stars, Sports persons, TV celebrities, and a whole bunch of unknown but filthy stinking rich people were around. I was glad I came as a slave – I won’t have been able to socialize with these people. Smriti was happily squeezing a famous fat businessman’s tiny penis and balls while making out with his botoxed wife. I just kept my face firmly in Kritikaji’s pussy the rest of the event, ensconced in her thighs and escaped the evening. We had wonderful sex that night back at home! And now, today, I was to be sold here. I was freaked! But I maintained my brave face as Kritikaji deposited me to the auctioneer’s assistant and gave my details and took my chastity cage off. I was sat between two smoking hot chicks; sadly, the slaves were to not talk to each other. They gave me a Viagra to ensure I had a hard on through the auctioning, which I definitely didn’t need with the women next to me, but took anyway. And then it started. The celebrity slaves were the first ones up – these were low level, small appearances and TV stars, who had obviously turned to being slaves for lack of money or success. One guy even fetched seventy five lakhs for a week! These high society wives are sure horny and perverted! I was fascinated as I heard the auction going on – one poor chick couldn’t fetch even the bare minimum five lakhs and was eventually Dutch auctioned for three lakhs for a month. To rub in the humiliation, her new owner made her suck willing cocks while he bought some more; I felt supremely horny looking at it while worrying if I’ll get the five lakhs minimum! My heart raced faster as the guy before the chick on my right was called on stage. Vinod had a fantastic lean body, not an ounce of fat on him! He had a needle dick which he proudly flaunted – clearly he was in this for the fun! Then the chick next to me – Apurbo; man, she knew how to show her body off! Guess she was a favorite bitch, fetched forty lakhs from the wife of the businessman Smriti was making out with the other day. And then it was my turn. I could barely stand up with the sheer adrenaline rush and the abject fear mixing in me. I staggered my way onto the stage and was almost blinded by the bright light – couldn’t see anything. “This is a new one!” whispered the announcer ever so softly into the microphone as I stood with my hands behind my head flushed with shame as I felt the scrutiny of the unseen eyes of the perverts. “It (the reference to the slaves as “it” made me hornier than ever) has been a slave for almost two years under a couple of our most brutal friends. It is touted as a most wonderful submissive that can take any amount of shaming and pain with ridiculous glee; supposed to be a natural humiliation lover. As you can see, it has a spotless and big body and wide shoulders. That hard on would be fun to torture and deny. I’m sure! It’s the perfect case of a dominant male being subject to your every whims, because this, friends, is a slave willing to forgo the “no cbt” rule!” It took a lot of effort not to flinch as I heard that. Kritikaji told me last night as we were about to sleep that she will consider selling me as a cbt enabled slave so I earn more and refused to let me speak after that, gagging me with a ball gag and spooning me into sleep. I was freaked, I was eager. The bidding started. Obviously I cleared the five lakh and even jumped into the ten lakh range thanks to the cbt enabling. I fetched a cool eighteen lakhs eventually, but had no idea who I was sold to. I was dragged off the stage and was gagged, blindfolded and hog and elbow tied. Thankfully, I knew what was happening – my new owner had special delivery request; I was to be a gift for his wife/girlfriend/secretary/who knows, and these guys were gift wrapping me. Then I felt a sharp jab in my arm and everything went dark and I lost consciousness. To be continued.