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The woman just shot me a look before sighing.
“At the medical bay, of course,” raising her eyebrows. “Where else?”
And suddenly it all made sense. Of course the Billionaires Club had its own mini-hospital. Money was no object, so the Club probably had every medical advance at its fingertips, doctors and nurses on call, all sorts of controlled substances on premises. It was crazy what the Club offered, but that hardly mattered because now I was in deep ka-ka. I had to be. The auction whirled through my mind, the voice, the man, my aborted attempt at being sexy. Oh god, oh god. I’d gone up on stage, done everything the woman had commanded, and yet it’d all been a giant fail. Oh no, oh no. What was going to happen?
“Who are you?” I asked forcefully, fixing the nurse with a look. “Why am I here?”
The middle aged woman just clucked again.
“My, my, like I said, a feisty one,” she shook her head, checking some boxes on her clipboard. “I’m Nancy, and here, drink this, you’ll feel better.”
I peered into the cup she held out to me, suspicious.
“Just water,” she singsonged. “Nothing scary.”
And although I was still on edge, I accepted the water and drank in deep, long gulps. Ah, that hit the spot. I was so dehydrated and the cool liquid was like a waterfall rushing over my senses, refreshing and much-needed.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I pulled myself together. I’d aborted the auction, that was for sure. I’d been so scared, terrified the entire time, even as my body responded to the cues. Because despite the bright lights, the monotone voice directing me to turn left and turn right, I’d slowly been getting into it. I was afraid, sure, but knowing that there were men behind those windows, watching me, appraising the goods, turned me on in a way that was so wrong. It shouldn’t have, but my cunt juiced at the thought of male eyes all over my curves, sizing me up, taking in my breasts, my waist, hips and thighs.
But there was something, or rather someone, who’d provided a safe harbor, an anchor amidst the escalating terror. It was the big man. I’d been teetering on the brink of pure fear mixed with heady arousal when suddenly a small light had snapped on in one of the booths, revealing a dark man within, blue eyes piercing, seizing mine like a hawk.
And I could hardly breathe, he was so commanding. I couldn’t see the male clearly, but I could see dark hair and a strong jaw, all of it complementing a huge, muscular male form. Holy shit, he must have been twice as big as me, and I’m not a small girl at all.
But even more than the alpha’s physical presence was the utter air of charisma surrounding the man. Even through the glass window, even though I was completely nude in front of a dozen men, suddenly the world narrowed to just me and him. Suddenly, as terrified as I was, I could do it. I could dance for this man, I could show him my all. And when he gestured, I knew instinctively what he wanted and obeyed immediately. Turning around, I parted my legs and bent over, pink parts on display, glistening wetly, all for him. Oh god, I was such a slut, revealing my most private places to a man I didn’t even know, pulling myself wide for his gaze, allowing him to look deep inside my pussy.
And yet it felt so right. Because as the hot lights caressed my skin, I looked through my legs and met that electric blue gaze once more, and the effect was immediate. My pussy pulsed at the contact like it could feel his hands, and my cunt gushed slightly, a sudden fall of wetness coursing from my hole. I panted, boobs heaving. Oh god, it was so right, all of this was so right, the illicitness, the way the man devoured me, his wrist moving up and down within his booth. He had to be. He had to be stroking himself as I displayed myself, as I showed him my private bits, dancing seductively all for him.
But then it all went haywire. Everything got flushed down the tubes, and I groaned internally, shamefaced and desperate. What the hell is wrong with you Rebecca? I screamed at myself. What the hell? Because sure, the handlers had told me during prep that I’d be in a small chamber, the billionaires seated behind one-way windows. And they’d told me that there would be cameras, recording my every move, tracing over my curves so that the billionaires could watch on their own personal consoles, even zoom in and out as they chose.
But nobody told me that when I bent over, a camera would zoom in behind my ass and stick its telephoto right up to my puss. No one told me that as I pulled my cunt lips open, that the camera would whir and hover like a giant mosquito, and focus its glaring eye onto my twat, homing in my hymen. And the incredible fact was that I hadn’t even realized it was happening at first, I was so lost in the encounter with my dark billionaire, waves of sensation pulsing through my body, our eye contact electric. But soon enough, the zooming and whirring penetrated my fog, and that’s when it happened. Shocked, my heart stopped beating for a moment, the room suddenly hot and small. The world tilted and jerked, and suddenly I collapsed in a heap on the dais. Yep, right there under the bright lights, with all eyes fixed on me, Becky Wright did what she always does and clumsily made a mess of things, just like always. And to make it worse, it was all caught on camera to boot, for posterity’s sake.
