Stellar Bargains: Trading Flesh Under the Falling Stars
In the vast, whispering dunes of the Nevada badlands, where the night sky unfurled like a black velvet cloak pierced by fiery lances, the annual Eclipse Auction thrummed with forbidden energy. Marcus Hale gripped the steering wheel of his battered old Jeep, the engine’s low growl mingling with the distant howls of coyotes. At fifty, he’d built a small fortune flipping vintage cars, enough to chase these wild dreams across the American wasteland. His wife, Sophia, lounged in the passenger seat, her sun-kissed skin glowing under the dashboard lights, curves hugged by a skimpy halter top that barely contained her heavy breasts. Beside her, Lila—Sophia’s wilder younger sister, pushing forty but with the fire of a woman half her age—fidgeted, her fingers tracing the edge of her thigh-high boots.
The air inside the Jeep hung thick with the scent of leather seats warmed by the desert sun, mixed with the faint, musky perfume Sophia always wore, like jasmine blooming in sin. Marcus’s cock twitched at the thought of what lay ahead. They’d driven from their coastal home in California, chasing rumors of this hidden market where desires were bartered like desert gold. Shooting stars—those fleeting meteors—would light up the sky tonight, turning the auction into a spectacle of raw, primal trades.
“Can’t wait to see what fresh meat’s on offer,” Marcus muttered, his voice gravelly from the dry wind whipping through the open windows. Sophia shot him a sultry glance, her dark eyes smoldering.
“As long as you get what you want, love. Trade me if you have to—my holes are yours to haggle.” Her words sent a jolt straight to his groin, the casual lewdness of it all making his pulse race.
Lila leaned forward, her breath hot on his neck. “Yeah, big bro-in-law. Dump us old bitches for some tight young thing. I bet her pussy’s sweeter than desert honey.”
Marcus chuckled, the sound rough like sandpaper. The Jeep crested a dune, and there it was: the bazaar sprawled in a hidden canyon, tents glowing with lantern light, shadows dancing like lovers in heat. The meteor shower had just begun, streaks of white fire slicing the heavens, each one a promise of ecstasy below.
Chapter 1: Whispers in the Dune Shadows
The Jeep’s tires crunched over gravel as Marcus parked among a sea of vehicles—sleek SUVs from city folk, dusty pickups from ranchers with dark secrets. He killed the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the bazaar’s distant moans and laughter, carried on the cool night breeze. The air out here tasted of sagebrush and smoke from bonfires, sharp and invigorating, stirring something feral in his blood.
Sophia stepped out first, her hips swaying in those painted-on shorts that rode up her ass cheeks. She clipped a silver chain to the collar around her neck, handing the other end to Marcus with a wink. Lila followed, her full lips parted in anticipation, nipples hard points against her sheer blouse. No leashes for them yet; that came later, when the deals heated up.
“Smell that?” Lila purred, inhaling deeply. “Sweat and cum already mixing with the stars. Makes my clit throb.”
Marcus nodded, his hand brushing Sophia’s ass possessively. They wandered into the throng, the ground soft underfoot from years of trampled sand. Stalls lined the canyon walls, draped in crimson fabrics that fluttered like bloodied flags. Vendors hawked everything from spiked collars to vials of aphrodisiac oils, their voices a cacophony of crude invitations.
“Fresh subs, broken in just right! Feel the tremble in their thighs!” one burly man bellowed, yanking a collared woman forward. She knelt, eyes downcast, her skin glistening with oil that caught the meteor light.
Marcus’s gaze roamed, hungry. He’d trained Sophia and Lila over years of marriage and mischief—Sophia with her obedient moans, Lila with her bratty fire that begged for the whip. But familiarity bred boredom. He craved untouched territory, a barely legal virgin whose screams would echo like the canyon winds.
They paused at a stall piled with leather harnesses, the vendor—a tattooed woman with piercings glinting like stars—eyeing them up. “Looking to upgrade, sir? These two are ripe, but I see that itch in your eyes.”
Sophia pressed against Marcus, her breast rubbing his arm. “He’s dreaming of popping a cherry tonight. Something pure to corrupt.”
The vendor laughed, a throaty sound. “Plenty of that under these falling fires. But virgins cost dear. You’ll need to sweeten the pot.”
Marcus felt the weight of his wallet, heavy with cash from his last car sale, but he knew trades sealed faster here. His cock hardened at the thought, straining against his jeans. A meteor streaked overhead, bathing them in ethereal glow, and Lila gasped, pointing. “Look at that beauty burn out. Just like we’ll be if you don’t find your prize.”
Deeper into the bazaar, the crowds thickened. Bodies pressed close—men in vests, women in scraps of lace, the air humming with the slap of flesh and wet sucks from shadowed corners. Marcus caught a whiff of roasting meat from a nearby grill, spiced with cumin and chili, making his mouth water even as his dick ached for release.
They stopped at a fire pit where slaves danced, chains rattling like wind chimes. One girl, maybe twenty-five, ground her hips to a drumbeat, her sweat-slicked skin shining. Marcus watched, transfixed, but shook his head. Too seasoned. He wanted the raw tremble of innocence.
“Patience,” Sophia whispered, nipping his earlobe. Her tongue was warm, tasting faintly of the cherry lip balm she loved. “The night’s young. Let the stars guide you.”
Lila smirked, trailing a nail down his back. “Or let us guide you first. A quick fuck to clear your head?”
Tempting. But Marcus pushed on, the meteor shower intensifying, lights flashing like cosmic orgasms across the sky.
Teasing Flames
Around a bend, they found a circle of bidders around a raised platform. A master paraded his sub, flogging her lightly, her yelps mixing with the crackle of flames. The scent of singed wood and her arousal hung heavy. Marcus’s hand tightened on Sophia’s chain, pulling her close. She whimpered, her free hand slipping to cup his bulge.
“Feel that, Master? All for you… or whoever buys us next.”
He groaned, the touch electric through denim. But he swatted her hand away. Focus. The auction’s heart lay deeper, where the real prizes hid.
Chapter 2: Veils of Forbidden Desire
Jump to Chapter 3 | Back to Chapter 1
The canyon narrowed, tents giving way to alcoves carved by ancient floods, each one a den of debauchery. Marcus led his women through, the sand shifting under his boots like reluctant lovers. A meteor shower’s rhythm pulsed—streak, flash, gone—mirroring the quickened beats of his heart. The air grew thicker here, laced with incense that burned his nostrils, sweet and smoky, evoking temple rituals turned profane.
In one alcove, a group writhed around a silk-draped bed, grunts and slurps filling the night. A man’s voice barked, “Suck it deeper, you greedy bitch!” The woman’s response was a muffled gag, wet and desperate. Marcus paused, peering in. The sight stirred him—bodies tangled, skin flushed red from slaps and friction—but it was all too chaotic, too used.
Sophia sensed his frustration, pressing her tits against his side. “Want me to drop and service you right here? Let them watch how you own me.” Her voice was husky, breath hot with the wine they’d shared earlier, tart on his skin when she kissed his neck.
“Later,” he growled, though his cock throbbed at the idea. Lila chuckled, low and wicked. “Bet that virgin’s waiting, all tied up and dripping despite herself. Girls like that always pretend they hate it.”
They moved on, passing stalls of elixirs—oils that promised endless stamina, creams to heighten sensitivity. Marcus bought a vial of the latter, slick and cool in his palm, smelling of vanilla and something darker, like forbidden fruit. He smeared a dab on Lila’s inner thigh, watching her shiver as heat bloomed there.
“Fuck, that’s intense,” she hissed, thighs clenching. “My pussy’s on fire already.”
Good. Aroused slaves fetched better prices. Or traded easier.
The crowd thinned as they reached the fringes, where lesser lights flickered. Here, the desperate deals happened—older stock, misfits. Marcus’s hopes dipped, but then a faint glow caught his eye: a modest tent, flaps half-open, revealing a young man lounging on cushions, fiddling with a tablet, its screen casting blue shadows on his angular face.
He looked up as they approached, eyes lighting on Sophia and Lila like a kid spotting candy. “Prime MILF stock? Shit, you’re a walking wet dream.”
Marcus sized him up—mid-twenties, lean from city life, probably a tech bro slumming it. “Tyler, right? Heard you had something special back there.”
The kid—Tyler—grinned, all teeth. “Word spreads fast in this pit. Yeah, got my pain-in-the-ass stepsister. Brooke. Just hit legal, untouched as fresh snow. Parents kicked her out after one too many tantrums; now she’s mine to offload.”
Behind him, in the tent’s dim interior, a figure squirmed against posts. Blonde curls cascaded over slender shoulders, her lithe body—maybe 5’4″, pert B-cups with pink nipples standing at attention—bound in coarse ropes that bit into pale skin. Blue eyes flashed defiance from a heart-shaped face dusted with faint freckles across her nose. She was gagged with a ball that stretched her full lips, drool glistening on her chin.
Marcus’s mouth went dry, cock surging to full mast. She was perfect—slender legs kicking futilely, a trimmed patch of golden curls guarding her virgin slit. The scent from the tent hit him: fear-sweat mixed with the faint, girlish tang of untouched arousal.
“Virgin?” Sophia asked, stepping closer, her chain clinking.
Tyler nodded. “Guaranteed. Locked her away since her birthday. No fingers, no toys. She’s a feisty little shit, though—fights every step. But break her, and she’ll be gold.”
Brooke’s eyes locked on Marcus, narrowing in fury. She mumbled around the gag, body twisting, ropes creaking like old bones. The sight made his balls tighten; he could almost taste her resistance, salty and sharp.
“Why hasn’t she sold?” Lila prodded, circling the tent like a shark.
Tyler shrugged. “Most want broken-in. This one’s raw. But you… you look like you can handle it.” His gaze lingered on Lila’s curves, licking his lips.
Marcus felt the trade brewing, hot as the desert sun. “Let’s test the merchandise.”
Bound Temptations
Tyler unchained the tent flap fully, the fabric whispering like a secret. Inside, the air was warmer, heavy with the earthy smell of sand and Brooke’s subtle perfume—vanilla from whatever soap she’d used before this nightmare. Marcus approached, heart pounding. He removed her gag with a pop, strings of saliva connecting it to her plump lips.
“You fucking pig,” she spat, voice hoarse but fierce, like a kitten hissing at wolves. “Untie me, or my family will—”
“Your family’s done with you,” Marcus cut in, his tone low, commanding. He traced a finger down her cheek, feeling the heat of her flush. Soft skin, trembling under his touch. “You’re meat now. And I’m hungry.”
She jerked away, but the ropes held firm, her small tits jiggling. “Go to hell.”
Sophia laughed softly, kneeling beside her. “Oh, sweetie, hell’s where the fun is. Suck his cock nice, and maybe he’ll save you from worse.”
Tyler watched, eager. “To seal it, you fuck one of mine. Take Lila here—she’s got a snatch that milks like a dream.”
Lila stripped efficiently, her clothes pooling like shed skin. She bent over a low table, ass high, pussy lips swollen and glistening from the oil. “Come on, boy. Pound this MILF cunt. Show me what you’ve got.”
Tyler didn’t hesitate, unzipping with fumbling hands. His cock sprang free—average, but rigid with youth. He slammed into Lila, who moaned loud, the sound echoing off canyon walls. “Yes! Fuck me like you mean it, kid! Stretch this old hole!”
The wet slaps filled the tent, rhythmic as the distant drums. Brooke’s eyes widened, fixed on the scene, her chest heaving. Marcus unzipped, his thick shaft—veined and heavy—bobbing free. The air cooled it slightly, but pre-cum beaded hot at the tip.
“Open wide, princess,” he said, gripping her jaw. She clamped her mouth shut, but he pinched her nipple hard, twisting until she yelped. In that gasp, he thrust forward, filling her mouth with his girth.
Her eyes watered, tongue involuntarily swirling against the salty skin, tasting the faint musk of his earlier arousal. She gagged, but he held her head, fucking shallow. “That’s it. Natural talent. Bet you’ve dreamed of this, all those bratty nights alone.”
Brooke whimpered, cheeks hollowing as she sucked despite herself, the humiliation burning in her blue eyes. Outside, a meteor flared, illuminating her freckled cheeks in silver light. Lila’s cries peaked—”Cum in me, you stud! Fill this traded pussy!”—and Tyler grunted, hips bucking as he unloaded.
The vibration of Brooke’s muffled moan around Marcus’s cock pushed him over. He growled, flooding her throat with thick ropes of cum, bitter and hot. She swallowed convulsively, tears streaking her face, body quaking in the ropes.
“Good girl,” he panted, pulling out with a slick pop. Strings of spit and seed connected them. Tyler slumped, grinning. “Deal’s half-done. But she’s prime virgin—worth both your sluts.”
Marcus wiped his cock on her cheek, smirking. “We’ll see. Bring ’em both to the central ring. Public bid to settle it.” 🔥
Chapter 3: Auction Flames Ignite
Jump to Chapter 4 | Back to Chapter 2
The central ring pulsed like a beating heart in the canyon’s belly, a wide circle of sand ringed by torches that spat embers into the night. Meteors rained steadily now, a celestial fireworks show syncing with the bazaar’s frenzy. Marcus tugged Sophia and Lila along, their chains rattling, while Tyler hauled Brooke over his shoulder like a sack of prizes, her bound form wriggling, muffled protests lost in the din.
The air here was alive—sweat-soaked bodies grinding, the sharp tang of cum and pussy juice mingling with grilled skewers of lamb from vendor carts, smoky and savory. Marcus’s stomach growled, but desire overrode hunger. He bought a skewer anyway, the meat juicy and spiced, tearing into it with teeth that ached to bite flesh.
“Eat up, Master,” Sophia teased, licking sauce from her fingers suggestively. “You’ll need strength to claim your new toy.”
Lila, still leaking Tyler’s load, winked. “Or to fuck us one last time before the trade.”
The auction master—a grizzled bear of a man with a voice like thunder—called the next lot. “MILF pair and a fresh virgin brat! Bidding starts—trades or cash!”
They were herded onto the platform, sand gritty underfoot. Sophia and Lila knelt gracefully, asses up, pussies displayed like offerings. Brooke was staked to a post, ropes biting deeper, her lithe body arched in defiance. The crowd murmured, eyes hungry—men stroking cocks through pants, women fingering themselves idly.
“Look at these ripe cunts,” the auctioneer boomed, slapping Sophia’s ass. It jiggled, red mark blooming. She moaned, “Bid high, sirs. This hole’s trained to please.”
Tyler stepped up, owning the moment. “Bundle deal: two seasoned whores for the virgin firecracker. She’s untouched, but watch her squirm!” He yanked her hair, forcing her head back, throat exposed. Brooke’s gag was back in, drool bubbling.
Bids flew—cash offers, promises of other slaves. A burly rancher waved a wad. “I’ll take the MILFs for my barn boys!”
Marcus countered, voice steady. “Virgin’s mine. Throw in the pair for her, straight trade.”
Jeers and cheers erupted. A woman in the front row laughed. “Make ’em prove it! Public fuck to show value!”
The auctioneer grinned. “Aye! Entertain us, traders!”
Marcus didn’t hesitate. He bent Sophia over the platform’s edge, her tits dangling for the crowd. The scent of her arousal hit him—musky, wet—as he plunged in, her cunt hot and welcoming, walls clenching like velvet fists. “Fuck, yes,” she gasped, pushing back. “Pound your wife-slave! Show them what they’re losing!”
The slap of skin on skin echoed, amplified by the canyon. Meteors streaked, lighting her writhing form. He thrust deep, balls smacking her clit, the taste of lamb still on his tongue as he bit her shoulder, coppery blood mixing with salt.
Lila crawled to Tyler, taking his cock in her mouth with sloppy enthusiasm. “Mmm, taste your own cum on me, boy. Now fuck this throat.”
Tyler obliged, face-fucking her roughly, gags turning to slurps. The crowd roared, hands busy in crotches. Brooke watched, eyes wide, body betraying her with a trickle of wetness down her thigh.
Marcus switched to Lila mid-thrust, pulling out of Sophia with a wet schlick, burying into his sister-in-law’s ass instead. Tight, hot ring gripping him like a vice. “Take it, you dirty bitch! This hole’s for sale!”
Lila screamed in pleasure-pain, the sound raw, vibrating through the air. Tyler, inspired, flipped Brooke onto her back, rubbing his cock along her slit without entering—teasing the virgin barrier. She bucked, muffled cries frantic.
The frenzy built. Marcus felt the cum boiling, slamming harder into Lila’s ass, the burn of friction exquisite. The crowd chanted, “Cum! Cum! Cum!” A massive meteor shower cascade lit the sky, blinding white.
He erupted, flooding Lila’s bowels with hot spurts, groaning as she milked him dry. Tyler pulled back from Brooke, spurting across her belly, marking her like property.
The auctioneer slammed a gavel. “Sold! Virgin to the trader, MILFs to the highest bidder!” Cash changed hands, but Marcus had his prize. Sophia and Lila were led away by a grinning buyer, blowing kisses. “Enjoy her tightness, Master! Fuck her raw for us!” 💋
Brooke trembled as Marcus unchained her, the ropes falling away like old skin. Her skin was marked red, sensitive to his touch—soft, feverish. “You’re mine now,” he whispered, breath hot on her ear. She shivered, hate and heat warring in her eyes.
Stolen Glances
As the crowd dispersed, Marcus led her to a quiet alcove, the night’s sounds fading to murmurs. He offered her water from a canteen, cool and metallic on her tongue. She drank greedily, then spat, “I hate you.”
“You’ll beg for me soon,” he replied, hand sliding between her thighs. Wet. So wet. Her gasp was music, the first crack in her armor.
Chapter 4: Breaking the Untouched
Jump to Chapter 5 | Back to Chapter 3
Back in the Jeep, the engine rumbled to life, but Marcus didn’t drive far. He pulled into a secluded draw, the canyon’s walls shielding them from prying eyes, though the meteor shower still painted the windshield in fleeting glows. Brooke sat bound in the back seat—wrists to ankles, knees spread wide on the leather, exposing her pink folds. The air inside was charged, her fear-sweat mingling with the vinyl’s clean scent, undercut by her growing arousal—sharp, feminine, like rain on hot stone.
“Please,” she whispered, voice cracking for the first time. No more fire, just a tremor. “Don’t do this.”
Marcus turned, eyes devouring her. Slender limbs, the curve of her hip like a desert dune, nipples pebbled in the cool air. “You were born for it, Brooke. Feel that ache? That’s your body begging.”
He climbed into the back, the Jeep rocking slightly. His hands roamed—rough palms on smooth skin, tracing ribs that fluttered with each breath. She tasted of salt when he licked her neck, her pulse racing under his tongue. “Stop… oh god,” she moaned, arching despite words.
The oil from earlier worked its magic; every touch ignited sparks. He sucked a nipple, teeth grazing, the bud hardening like a ripe berry. Her whimper was sweet, tasting of surrender on the air.
“Tell me you want it,” he demanded, fingers circling her clit—swollen, slick. The scent intensified, heady.
“No… yes… fuck you,” she gasped, hips bucking involuntarily.
He chuckled, dark and low. Slipping two fingers in, he felt the barrier—tight, virginal hymen. She cried out, the sound echoing in the confined space, pain-laced pleasure. He pumped slowly, thumb on her clit, the wet squelch obscene.
“Such a tight little virgin cunt. Gonna ruin it for anyone else.” His cock, freed again, nudged her entrance. Thick head parting lips, stretching her.
Brooke’s eyes locked on his, blue storms. “It hurts… but don’t stop.” The admission broke her, tears flowing.
He thrust, breaching her in one brutal shove. Blood-tinged cream coated him, her walls clamping like a fist. She screamed, nails digging into his arms—pain and ecstasy blurring. The Jeep filled with her cries, the slap of bodies, the creak of seats.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he grunted, pounding deeper, the friction burning divine. Her tits bounced with each slam, skin slapping skin, sweat slicking them together.
She clawed at him, then pulled him closer, legs wrapping despite bonds. “Harder! Oh shit, harder!” The brat melted into a whore, her voice raw, tasting of copper from bitten lips.
Meteors flashed outside, syncing with his thrusts—build, peak, explode. He flipped her onto all fours, ass up, re-entering from behind. The angle hit deeper, her g-spot sparking fireworks in her core.
“Cum for me, slave,” he ordered, hand fisting her curls, yanking back. She shattered, pussy convulsing, milking him in waves. Juices squirted, soaking the seat, smelling of pure lust.
He followed, roaring as he flooded her deflowered depths, cum hot and thick, overflowing down her thighs. They collapsed, panting, the air thick with sex—salty, sticky, satisfied.
But he wasn’t done. Untying her, he pulled her onto his lap, cock stirring again. “Ride me, Brooke. Earn your keep.”
She hesitated, then sank down, moaning at the fullness. Her movements were clumsy at first, then fluid, hips grinding like a dancer under stars. The taste of her kiss—tentative, then fierce—sealed it. She was his.
Whispers of Ownership
As she bounced, tits in his face, he sucked and bit, marking her. The Jeep rocked gently, a private storm. Outside, the shower waned, but their fire raged on. “Mine,” he growled into her skin. She nodded, lost in the rhythm, the crude symphony of their joining.
Chapter 5: Eternal Desert Blaze
Back to Chapter 4 | Back to Chapter 1
Dawn crept over the dunes like a shy lover, painting the canyon in pinks and golds, the meteor shower’s embers faded to memory. Marcus and Brooke lay tangled in the Jeep’s back, sheets twisted around them—improvised from blankets hauled for the trip. Her body ached, deliciously sore, marked with bruises like badges of her new life. The air smelled of dried cum and her skin—soft, powdery now, mingled with the faint ozone of spent stars.
She stirred, blue eyes meeting his without the earlier fire. “What now? You own me… like property.”
Marcus traced a hickey on her throat, thumb rough. “Yeah. But you’ll love it. The open road, my cock whenever I want. Better than your old life of tantrums.”
She bit her lip, a flush creeping up. “It… felt good. The pain turning to that rush.”
He grinned, pulling her atop him. Morning wood nudged her thigh, hard and insistent. “Show me you mean it. Suck it awake.”
Brooke slid down, blonde curls tickling his belly. Her mouth—lips still swollen—engulfed him, tongue tentative but eager. The wet heat, the swirl, tasting of last night’s remnants. He groaned, hand in her hair, guiding without force.
“Deeper, slut. Take your Master’s dick like you own it.”
She gagged but pushed on, throat relaxing, eyes watering up at him—adoration replacing hate. The slurps filled the Jeep, vulgar and intimate, her small hands stroking what she couldn’t swallow.
He came quick, spurting across her tongue, watching her swallow with a shiver. “Good girl. Now, let’s hit the road. More adventures, more breaking you in.”
They drove out as the sun rose, Brooke curled against him, naked and collared. The desert stretched endless, whispering promises of nights under stars, where trades became bonds, and flesh learned to crave its chains. Her hand found his crotch, squeezing playfully. “Faster, Master. I want more.”
He laughed, accelerating into the horizon, the engine’s roar a prelude to endless ecstasy. The canyon faded behind, but the fire they’d kindled burned eternal, hot as the sun-baked sands. 🔥
Lasting Embers
Weeks blurred into a haze of motels and backroads, Brooke’s body molding to his whims—bent over tailgates, riding him in diner bathrooms, the tastes and textures of submission etching deeper. She begged now, crude words spilling from lips once prim. The stars watched, approving, as master and slave forged their twisted paradise. 💋
