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“You’ll be in the crowd?” I whisper back, and his warm chuckle tells me not to worry. How can I not worry, though? I only want him and he knows it. This auction is for him. Our fifth time. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t live a day without his collar on my neck.
He kisses my neck and reassures me that I am his. His promise calms me and gives me enough strength to reach up and move my hair, letting him remove the collar from around my neck.
The first time I went up on this stage, I thought I would never accept a collar. I was desperate, tens of thousands of dollars in debt just as the market collapsed in my chosen field. How was I to know that dot-com was going to go dot-bust?
I’d invested everything. Not just what little money I had, but my education as well. In a single day, I was worth less than nothing. The auction was a way out from debts I couldn’t pay back.
That first night I saw him in the crowd, something shifted inside me, even though he was anonymous. All of the men are. It’s one of the rules this group has. All the men wear masks.
Curiosity turned to need the instant his eyes met mine.
Even with his mask, I could sense something from him. Those gray-green eyes burned with a power and intensity that drew me like a moth to the flame, more powerful than the clearly expensive tuxedo jacket he wore advertised. He was the sort of man who could control a room with just his eyes while wearing a dirty old T-shirt. It didn’t matter.
The tuxedo was nice, though.
“I’m going to go sit down, my little whore,” he says, kissing the back of my neck tenderly. “Remember, this is for fun.”
We both know it’s more than fun. It’s perhaps the best foreplay ever invented. I knew it even as I stood upon the stage my first time, and as I waited for the auction to finish for the woman in front of me, I could already feel the warm tingle between my thighs.
He’llbe watching.
My nipples tighten, rock-hard nubs beneath the nearly see-through shift that I’m wearing, and as the final bids for the girl ahead of me come in, my heart races.Hehas bought me before, every month... but that almost didn’t happen the first time. He’s not the only one who craved a submissive who didn’t know her boundaries. One who wanted to give up complete control.
Our eyes met, and I could feel our connection. He hadn’t bid before then—not many of the masked crowd does—but when his eyes met mine, I felt that connection between us. A bidding war took place, staggering me as numbers that I never thought possible were tossed between first four men, then three, then two... and finally, just one.
Hehadn’t won. Not fairly, not with the bidding.
Tonight, though, I know he will. Yes, he likes to share.Fuck, it turns me on to be shared, both of us knowing that no matter how passionate, how large or small, how much endurance they have... none of them will have the connection that we share.
None of them know my darkest secrets. None of them can command me to do things I never dreamed of and find pleasure beyond imagination. None of them are mine.
He is, though.
Gabriel is my Dom. And tonight is about Gabriel showing everyone, all of these other men, that I am his. It’s a heady rush in so many ways, yet my fingertips go numb at the thought ofnot leaving with him. I assume, like he is, that every man in the crowd is rich and powerful. Knowing thatI’mthe woman they’re lusting after, that they want me and will part with even a smidgen of their fortunes in the chance to have me... It gives him pleasure to not just own me but to prove to all of the other men that they cannot.
And each of these auctions reinforces that fact while at the same time enriching me.
“The bidding will open at fifty thousand dollars,” the auctioneer, cast in shadow but speaking evenly and with command, says. While these men are bidding on flesh, there is none of the hype, none of the yelling or even descriptions that I thought there’d be.
It is nearly silent, adding to the tension. There are paddles raised and liquor served on silver platters.
If I were to run one of these, I’d do it almost the same way. Almost, but richer and with more attention to detail for the mistresses, the submissives. More ... security and a promise that the men are getting what they want, but so are the women.
I call myself one of the lucky ones.
One change I’d make specifically... a way for the girl to explain herself, her limits, without having to make a speech. These bidders know me now, but the first time, I had to say something.
I’d given speeches in college, presentations in front of entire auditoriums. But telling that room of twenty or so odd men that I’d never had anything but vanilla sex before, but that I was willing to explore, mortified me.
It nearly derailed me, as after the auction, I went to sign the contract that the group required... and I foundhimthere. There’d been a change of plans as the winner realized that I was not the sort of girl he wanted. So an arrangement was made,a handshake and money exchanged, and I sat across the table fromhimas the auctioneer explained the terms of the contract.
His presence left me breathless, my desire almost as hot as it is now as I stand upon the stage, looking out at the room with a quiet self-confidence. “One seventy-five,” the auctioneer says, pointing not toward Gabe but to another. These other men, perhaps they’re strong and dominant. Perhaps they are good men too, men who nourish and encourage their women to discover pleasure they never knew.
Perhaps.
But they can’t replace him.
Yet he waits, a small, amused smile on his lips as he watches the men lift their paddles time and time again, the price rising past two hundred, past three hundred, past four hundred thousand. My gaze never leaves his, even as my heart races.
