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Quinci Everly
Sunday Night
It was a little after seven, and Iwas giving myself a once over in the mirror. It was a strapless knee-length black dress with a splithalfway upmy thigh and a deep V, showing off mycleavage,something that I’d picked up when I went shopping with Denim yesterday morning. It really paid to have tailors because every piece I bought, her tailor fixed it for me, and it made me look expensive as hell. Waistlooked even smaller in this dress.Ass was fat. Thighs were thick.
Even though I hardly dressed up, having a tailor was somethingthat I would add inmy budget. My hair waseven prettier from the two-strand twists that I’d done.My gold accessories matched the goldlock on my Tom Ford pumps. I made sure to take a few pictures like I’d done last night.
Grabbing my clutch,I opened it to make sure that I had the invitation, my phones, and my key cardbefore heading downstairs to wait for the car that Malik said wouldbe coming to pick me up.At first, I wasn’t interested because, even though Malik was fine, he wasn’t really my type, if that made sense. He didn’t have that umph that I would be looking for in a partner. And that was where Dymon’s fine ass came in at.
Yesterday, whenwe wereshopping, I was trying to pull information out of her about him, but she wouldn’t budge. The loyalty was real, so I had no choice but to respect it.She’d even warned me, again, not to get too close to him. Thatwas one of the reasons that led to me fillingout the little packet.
Stepping outside, Mike greeted me.
“Your ride, Ms. Everly.”
“Thank you.”
The driver helped me into the back of the car and closed me in. Once he was the driver’s side, he handed me an iPad.
“Non-disclosure agreements. Confidentiality agreements.Go over your application one last time. All that. You’ll need the number from your invitation.”
“Got it.”
After getting logged into the iPad, I had to admit that Chokers was very thorough and strictly invitation only. When I typed that name into my Google, hardly anything came up but a few blog posts.I read through everything carefully, three times, before Iscribbled my name on the dotted line.
I was the type of person who would try anything once, and when one of my college classmates told me about it, I wanted to do it but never knew how to approach it. When I talked to Derek about it, he’d turned it down, saying he could never physically hurt me, during sex or otherwise, when he didn’t even understand it wasn’t just about the sex.
Thirty minutes later,we pulled up to a gate, and I handed him my card. We pulled through, drove a few more feet, thenenteredanother gate to a building that didn’t look like the advertising. The driver got outand helped me out of the car. When I approached thedoor, I pushed the white button that was on the receiver.
“Name.”
“Quinci Everly.”
The click of the door opening suddenly made my heart start thumping even faster. I couldn’t believe what I was about to do. I was already doing toomuch,and I’d only been in New York for a week.This had to been what Denim meant when she told me New York could suck you in so deep, you wouldn’t know how to get out. Especially since I’d never even visited before.
Pulling the door open, I was greeted by a beautiful woman with the biggest smile on her face.
“Oh, you look sofucking beautiful. The men are about to bid, honey.”
“Bid?”
She nodded her head. “Let me get the invitation. Your ID. Your phone.”
“What does ‘bid’ mean? I thought y’all just matched us or something. I don’t mean to ask a lot of questions.”
She turned and pulled a small clear box from the wall. “Well,I would be worried if you didn’t have a lot of questions.Butjust because you match on paper,don’t mean that you are going to match physically. Some of the men are short and don’t like tall women. Vice versa. Some of them are white… and don’t want…” She shrugged her shoulders.“You know how that goes. So, yeah.If you matched with more than one guy, they’ll have to bid on you.”
“Got it. I understand.”
“Good. Okay, so… this box is going to hold your phones when you come in. No one gets to keep their phones. We can’t go in them because we give you this key.” She took the key out the box and handed it to me, along with my ID.“Your STI panel was recent, so you’re good. If you’re going to join, that is something that youhave tokeep updated every three months. Okay?”
I nodded my head.
“Alright, I’m going to take youto the room where the other women are. It’ll only be a few more minutes. I think you were the last one.”
She walked me down a dimly-lit hallway into a room, wherea handful of women were waiting. I walked to the back of the room where one other girl was waiting. My thoughts were everywhere because my answers were so generic on that packet I felt like, and it would be hard to match me with anyone. I hoped he wasn’t uglybecause that was onething I wouldn’t be able to work with. If my pussy was going to get wet, I had to at least be physically attracted to a man.I would rather deal with short than ugly.
Ten minutes had gone bywhen the front desk girl came back in and ushered us out of the room, through a curtain, and out into a large lounge area.There were stairs on either side of the roomleading intosections.She made us sit on numberedstools. I was the next-to-last girl. This room was dim, but not as dim as the hallway light.
