Presenting the merchandise

He brings her out, like a model at an upscale dress shop presenting the frocks under consideration. Except the model is naked, and the choices are limited. Up or down. Yes or no. Take her or not.

She is his. He eyes her with pleasure. She is his but he is a generous man in a perverted sort of way. His sense of ownership is intensified when he knows she is being used by others. When he sees her being used by others. And he knows that being treated like a thing, being reduced to a mouth and two tits and a pair of holes, deepens her own sense of belonging to him.

He loves the pain in her eyes as they hurt her.
He loves the glow in her eyes as she submits.

She walks towards them, clearly self-conscious while doing her best to move like a sexy model. She fails miserably. That's not who she is. But he wants his customers, guests, friends, to want her, his slut, his whore, his little sex slave whose services he is offering. So he is not displeased. He knows the value of his property.

The six men are sitting in a circle, with an opening for her entrance and exit. She walks slowly within the circle, once around to display her wares and then again, stopping in front of each man to allow him to inspect the goods more closely. None of them can resist squeezing her nipples. Her tits invite abuse. The men make her spread her legs for better access, probing her with their fingers before testing the accessibility of her anal passage.

Her pussy is wet.
Her ass is tight.
The men are growing hard.

One man gives her bottom a hard smack. She looks surprised, as does her owner. He hadn't thought any of them were interested in that sort of thing.

Her owner is number 6. She pauses in front of him. He holds her eyes with his. He nods. He doesn't have to say it aloud. "Good girl" passes between them. He is pleased.

She exits the circle.

"Any takers?" he asks.
From the bulges beneath their jeans, he knows there will be no one sitting out this dance.