BACHELOR PARTY ----- ELEVEN

The bidding grew more lively.

It must be acknowledged that it was not normal for the Witches to have a specimen like Carlos, and even less so for them to auction him publicly in the state he was in.

Carlos, meanwhile, was gripped by panic inside. Unable to speak, with a rubber penis stuck in his mouth, penetrated through the ass and with his package locked inside a metal cage, he felt completely defenseless, at the mercy of whoever might finally buy him.

All the spectators he could make out were rough-looking types, rather unkempt and in truly deplorable physical shape.

He hoped that in the end all of it was just a bad dream and that everything had been arranged between the Witches and his gym buddies. A tasteless joke of the sort every groom must endure at his bachelor party........

One thousand euros to the gentleman at the back, he heard one of the presenters of that macabre event say, which was nothing other than his auction, as if he were a slave, as if he were an animal.

Sold!!!!! Sold for 3000 euros!!!!!!!! he finally heard them shouting beside him, as he looked at a group of several men dressed in black at the back of the room.

No, they definitely were not his gym buddies, who were not even in the room anymore. It was a group of ill-faced strangers who knew what dark intentions they had in store for him.

He tried to struggle, to free himself from his restraints, at least to scream, but it was impossible, and walking awkwardly on the high heels they had put on him, he was led to an adjoining room where his handover was going to be formalized.

Where his fate was going to be sealed.

At the back of the room, a wooden box of considerable size had a label stuck to it.

A label on which there was only the name of a country: Kajastan.

THE END.