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I felt so stupid. Part of me wanted to call Selecta and demand to know how it had happened, but I didn’t need any patient member services rep to tell me I had of course agreed to it. I had ticked theAgree and continuebox under a wall of text that must include something like,The associate member agrees to allow platinum-level members access to the video stream of any Selecta-scheduled photo session for which she registers.
Maybe it didn’t even have that narrow a focus. The relevant passage in the agreement I had signed might just say,You agree to let platinum-level members look at you whenever they want, however they want, whether you’re dressed or naked.I mean, I already knew that if I accepted an allowance from a sponsor, he would automatically have access to all the controls of my apartment.
I spent several minutes feeling like the skin of my face would remain at a permanent temperature five degrees hotter than the rest of my body. Every time I tried to focus on my yogurt, I instinctively reached for my phone, to scroll through my feeds the way I always did while eating breakfast. I remembered that I had left it in the bathroom, and why, and a volcano of heat erupted in my upper body.
At the same time, though…
As the fact that a man had watched me masturbate started to become part of the past, other important details of the situation filtered into my consciousness.
Christian G had messaged me, after watching my shameless display.
Christian G worked in the movie business, and to judge from his platinum membership was very successful in that industry.
Meaning… Christian G could take care of me, in addition to possessing looks so good they should be illegal.
And then, while I still sat at the table in my pretty little kitchen, my head turned toward the door of the bedroom, through which lay the bathroom and my phone, I remembered what I had read on Christian G’s profile.
That probably sounds really arrogant, and I suppose that’s fair. But… you know… fuck around and find out.
Subtle, but unmistakable—for me, anyway. A man who liked to take charge, and didn’t hesitate to set boundaries and to impose consequences on people who crossed them. A new wave of heat came into my cheeks, but this one felt very different, because Mary the photographer’s story, and its humiliating effect on me, lurked at the back of my mind.
Fuck around and find out.
To my dismay, the latest blush seemed to affect my whole body, and not in the straightforward,ohmygod please let the earth swallow me upway. A man who knew how to take charge of a situation would surely know how to take care of a girl who had just arrived in a new city and a new life—a girl in need of guidance.
A virgin who’s shown just how naughty she can be… how naughty, and how needy.
I noticed with a guilty start that my right hand had risen from the table, and crossed my upper body, and that my fingers by sheer instinct had started to toy with my left nipple. I pulled the hand away from the stiff little peak that pressed so hard into the fabric of my cheap cotton bra that it tented my pink t-shirt.
I got up. I needed my phone, if only to check my bank balance and see whether I could go shopping. I didn’t have to think about Selecta Arrangements, or the photos, or Christian G.
That resolution lasted all of a minute. My bank balance, with the first Selecta subsidy in it—twice as much as my New Modesty one, I noted—begged me to go shopping. I needed new clothes, of course. I needed new jeans, and maybe even a romper. I needed underwear, too.
Not underwear, though, as much as… lingerie.
I’d never bought real lingerie before. Every time I glanced over at those racks in a department store, I turned back to the everyday stuff, with a little warmth in my cheeks at the thought that a salesperson might have seen me looking. But here in LA, as a platinum-level associate member, with a wealthy man asking to have a drink with me…
I walked over to the big picture window in the living room and pulled up the blackout curtain, to reveal a stunning California day. I hadn’t imagined it: the Pacific lay there on the horizon, past the skyscrapers of what must be downtown Los Angeles. I looked down at my phone, and saw the bank balance. It didn’t look as big this time, as I thought about the shopping, and how much of it I needed to do, and the prices in Beverly Hills as opposed to the ones in Harristown.
A sponsor in the movie business would help with that. The kind of man who likes to unwrap a girl’s body like a present in pretty paper.
I swallowed hard, and tapped over to the Selecta Arrangements app. My notifications popped up immediately.
Three to-do’s, Leah: private message from Christian G, select profile photos, schedule aesthetician.
Frowning, I tappedschedule aesthetician.
Hi Leah! Our photo bot noticed that you might be interested in a subsidized session with an aesthetician. It’s highly recommended that platinum-level associate members have a full Brazilian wax every two weeks, in order to ensure that intimacy goes smoothly and in line with members’ expectations.
I blew out a long breath through half-parted lips. My treasonous right hand had crept to my hip, and it started to slide even further. I tapped on the link to the scheduling tool and chose a timeslot that started in an hour, in the day spa that was, just as Mary had told me, downstairs in my building.
Then I tapped back into my PMs. I took a deep breath and started to type.
Hi Christian! Thanks so much for messaging. Are you free this evening?
CHAPTER8
Leah
