The Auction Read online

  She was guaranteed disease-free and she was on birth control. Not only that, she’d signed the waiver regarding condoms, which pleased Adam, as he abhorred the annoying little things. Who cared if her submission was genuine or just an act? He would get his money’s worth—he would see to that.

  Adam’s thoughts were interrupted as Franklin stepped back into the room. Adam stood as he entered, accepting the contract the trainer handed him and folding it into the inner pocket of his jacket. Franklin handed him Carly’s suitcase, which Adam took, wondering what was inside. Whatever was in there, she wouldn’t be needing much. He planned to keep her naked, save for leather, rope and chain.

  Franklin extended his hand. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, and I trust you’ll find full satisfaction with slave Carly.”

  Adam shook the man’s hand. “Thank you. I intend to.”

  Once Franklin had gone, Adam turned to Carly, still kneeling quietly on the carpet. “Take off that collar. You’ll wear this instead.” Adam reached into his pocket and held out the collar he’d chosen for his slave girl.

  Carly reached behind herself, her hands slipping beneath her thick hair to unbuckle the slim strip of black leather from around her neck. She let it fall to the ground and, lifting her hair from her neck, she bent her head forward in a submissive gesture that pleased Adam.

  Bending down, he buckled the soft red leather collar around her throat and placed a small padlock through the clasp at the back of her neck, clicking it into place. Using the O ring at the front of the collar, he pulled Carly to a standing position. The red collar looked pretty against her white throat.

  She was barefoot and clearly naked beneath the thin slip. It was a warm September evening and the car was parked just outside the building, so Adam supposed that was all right. “My driver’s waiting outside,” he said. “Come, Carly. It’s time to see your new home.”

  Chapter 2

  Carly stole sidelong glances at Adam Wise as his driver sped along the Bronx River Parkway toward the Scarsdale residence where she would be spending the next month. She liked the way his hair curled against the side of his neck. He had a good jaw and a prominent, slightly crooked nose. She guessed him to be in his late thirties or early forties, and he was in good shape. Yeah, he was probably just another rich, entitled bastard, but at least he was hot. She was glad he’d bought her, instead of the fat redhead with the freckles.

  Bought her…

  I can’t believe I’m really doing this. I am out of my mind. Crazy as a loon.

  Melissa, the bartender at Club de Sade where Carly had managed to get a job as a waitress, had told her about the slave auctions and said they were always looking for beautiful, submissive women to train. At first Carly had just laughed, dismissing the idea out of hand.

  When Melissa had mentioned the sums involved, and what a girl could earn for one month of “work”, Carly had stopped laughing.

  “Is that even legal, though?” she questioned. “It sounds like prostitution, plain and simple. How can they get away with that?”

  Melissa shook her head. “It’s a service, that’s all. Think of it like a dating service, except with a kink,” she’d grinned. “They just bring people together, really. What those people do in private is no one’s business. It’s a lot safer than just meeting some random guy at a BDSM club, when you think about it. The clients are as carefully vetted as the girls. They have to provide proof that they’re disease free and undergo a thorough background check for any criminal record. And they’re all loaded—they have to be with the prices the auction house charges.”

  Carly had been laid off eighteen months prior, when the law firm she had worked for had closed its doors, and the unemployment had run out four months ago. She was already two months past due on her share of the rent for the house in Queens she shared with three other women. They had been understanding at first, but were now telling her to come up with the money or get out. She couldn’t blame them, but even working the part-time retail job she’d recently managed to garner plus the weekend waitress gig at the club, she could barely keep her head above water. Spending a month as some rich guy’s submissive sex slave and standing to earn more from that than she had in the past year suddenly didn’t sound so terrible.

  Carly glanced again at Adam, disconcerted to realize he was staring directly at her. She looked quickly down at her lap.

  Adam hadn’t said a word since they’d gotten into the car, and following his lead, neither had Carly. Now he put his hand on her leg, pushing the satin of her slip upward as he stroked her thigh. Her initial impulse was to push his hand away—she barely knew the man—but of course she did no such thing. She was property, his property, bought and paid for. She wasn’t about to fuck things up right out of the gate. If he wanted to touch his property, he had every right.

  Think of the money, she reminded herself. Thirty-five thousand dollars will go a long way to getting you back on your feet.

  Adam took his hand from her thigh. “Face me,” he ordered.

  Though she was in her seat belt, she managed to turn herself toward him. His eyes glittered in the glow of the streetlights zooming past. He reached for her breasts with both hands, finding and twisting her nipples beneath the silk until she gasped in pain. She shot a glance at the driver, wondering if he could see them in his rearview mirror.

  “Keep your eyes on me,” Adam said, twisting harder. Carly winced and sucked in her breath. Despite the pain, or partially because of it, she felt her cunt moistening. While he tweaked and twisted her nipples, Adam stared into her eyes, and again, as she had at the auction, she got the disconcerting feeling that he was staring past them into her mind, into her darkest secrets.

  He let her go, leaving her nipples throbbing and engorged. “Sit back and face front.”

  Carly’s heart was pattering rapidly as she shifted back against the leather. Unbuckling his seat belt, Adam slid closer to her, re-buckling himself in the middle seat so their legs were touching. Again Adam began to stroke her thigh. She looked down at his hand. It was rugged and masculine, the skin tan against her pale skin. His nails were well tended and he wore no rings.

  His hand moved higher, his fingers stroking the inside of her thigh. Carly bit her lip and then remembered his earlier admonishment to stop doing that. His touch was light and sensual, and in spite of her nervousness, she had to admit it felt good.

  “Spread your legs,” he said in a low voice.

  Carly did as she was told, her heart kicking into a higher gear. Adam’s fingers edged toward her cunt, grazing the outer labia.

  “Lift your slip. Ass on the leather and keep your legs spread.” Carly felt heat licking her cheeks and throat and silently admonished herself to get over it.

  The week of intensive training at the hands of Master Franklin and Mistress Audrey had knocked a lot of Carly’s natural modesty right out of her. She and the other women who’d stayed in the dormitory at the rear of the auction building, or the slave quarters as they were grandly referred to, had been kept naked most of the time, even during meals.

  Yet somehow it had been different there, with all the other slave girls around her. It was the natural way of things in that environment. It had been more like a game, albeit a very intense one. But here in this elegant sedan beside this rich, handsome stranger, with another strange man just a few feet away, felt nothing like a game.

  Carly lifted the hem of the slip, settling her bare bottom against the soft, luxurious leather.

  “Wider.” Adam punctuated the command with a light slap to her inner thigh.

  Carly looked down at Adam’s hand as it moved over her shaven sex. He cupped her there, his palm pressing against her clit. He pushed one finger gently inside her and Carly felt the involuntary clamp of her vaginal muscles. Keeping his finger inside her, he moved his palm in a circular motion against her spread labia.

  Carly sighed with pleasure, shifting slightly against his hand.

  “Don’t
move,” Adam said softly. “Don’t move a muscle. No matter what I do.”

  Carly nodded, catching her lip with her teeth, remembering and letting it go again. She closed her eyes.

  “Keep your eyes open. Look at me. I want to see your face.”

  Carly turned her head toward Adam, another soft, moaning sigh pulled involuntarily from her as he slid a second finger carefully inside her and ground his palm against her clit. The combined sensation sent shivers along her nerve endings. She felt the raw power emanating from Adam, sparking like dark fire in his eyes, and she found herself drawn to him in a way she hadn't expected.

  Her body wanted to move—her hips wanted to lift and swivel against his hand as he stroked her from within and without, but she forced herself to stay still. “Oh,” she gasped, her voice tremulous with the effort of keeping her body still.

  The slave girls had rarely been permitted to orgasm during their week-long tenure, though they’d been sexually tortured and teased to teach them restraint and discipline. Several of the women were able to orgasm on command, or at least fake it really well, but Carly had never mastered either skill. She didn’t come easily to orgasm and she could never bring herself to fake it, no matter how much she wanted to please a man.

  There would be no need to fake tonight, that was for sure, not with what he was doing to her. A rushing, steady heat was building inside her at his touch, and the way his eyes seemed to drink her in only added to the pulse of intense sensations. His touch was light, but steady and persistent, his palm pressed with precisely the right force against her swelling sex while his fingers moved like a cock inside her.

  Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

  Carly realized her mouth was open, her breath coming fast and shallow. She forced herself to slow her breathing, trying to draw more air into lungs that felt constricted by the pounding of her heart. She could smell the scent of her own sex in the air of the enclosed car. She could hear the squishing sound his fingers made in her now sopping cunt as he moved relentlessly inside her.

  She blinked rapidly in her effort to keep her eyes open and fixed on this enigmatic stranger who was pulling so much from her with just his hand. She was powerless to stop the panting and little mewling sounds she heard herself making. Adam’s eyes continued to burn into hers, his mouth lifting into a small, knowing smile.

  After several minutes of this silent, exquisite torture, Carly’s body began to tremble and a low, feral moan escaped her lips. Still he continued, stroking her both inside and out.

  “Oh!” The word burst from her as her disobedient hips rose to meet his hand. Despite the constraint of the seatbelt, Carly was thrashing like a wild animal in heat as a powerful orgasm tore its way through her helpless body. It was as if he was striking her with a kind of lightning, the currents moving from his hand to her body, burning her to her core. She realized her eyes were squeezed shut, tears running down her cheeks, as wave after wave of white-hot pleasure hurtled through her loins.

  When he finally released her, Carly sagged back against the seat, her breath rasping in her throat, her chest heaving, her body still shaking. All the training and discipline of the past week had completely deserted her in the face of Adam’s skilled, relentless attentions. She had, she knew, fucked up big time, and right out of the gate.

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

  Struggling to sit upright, she turned a beseeching gaze to him. “I know you said not to move. I tried, I really did. I couldn't help it. I’m sorry, Sir.”

  One corner of Adam’s mouth lifted in an ironic, cruel smile. “Not nearly as sorry as you’re going to be.”

  ~*~

  Adam watched Carly’s eyes widen as she stared around the front hall of his home, her mouth actually hanging open in evident awe. Pygmalion meets Pretty Woman, he thought with an inward grin.

  Jordan had parked the Mercedes and gone up to his apartment over the garage, so they were all alone in the big old brownstone, just Adam and his purchased slave girl.

  It was after eleven but Adam didn’t feel in the least tired. He made his own schedule, and he’d cleared the next week completely. Sleep could come later. Right now he had other plans.

  Setting Carly’s suitcase on the floor, Adam said, “I would have thought a trained sex slave would have more discipline than you showed in the car.” In fact he was delighted with how responsive she’d been to his touch. One of his fears in making this unorthodox purchase was that he’d get someone who could take pain and perform sexually, but who would only be going through the motions. What had just happened in the car was something else again. Not even the most skilled actress could simulate the orgasmic flush that had seeped over Carly’s skin, or the way her pupils had dilated so wide, or the trembling that had racked her body in small, seismic waves. As he’d played her to his tune, he’d felt that delicious rush of pure power moving through him like a drug.

  “Yes, Sir, I’m very sorry, Sir,” the girl began in a rush of words. “I didn’t mean to. It won’t—”

  Adam held up a palm. “Stop. Not another word.”

  Carly pressed her lips together, and Adam had a sudden vision of her on her knees, his cock rammed down that pretty throat. Why not make it a reality?

  “Take off that slip and get on your knees. I’m going to outline the rules.”

  He reached for his belt and quickly unbuckled it, pulling at the zipper of his fly and tugging his underwear aside. His cock sprang out, his erection as hard as an eighteen-year-old boy’s.

  Carly pulled the flimsy garment over her head and dropped it to the floor. She’d been naked on the stage, but close up she was even more breathtaking. Though he didn’t usually favor such buxom curves, on this girl they worked, and how. Her breasts reminded him of lush, round melons, and his mouth actually watered at the thought of taking those dark pink nipples between his teeth. Her waist was tapered, her hips flaring into a feminine curve. Her shaved cunt pouted prettily between her thighs.

  She knelt in front of him on the marble, staring with wide eyes at Adam’s cock. “You know what to do,” he said.

  Pink color washed over Carly’s cheeks. Adam was both amused and surprised at this blushing maiden business from someone who’d just sold her body and her rights to a stranger for cold, hard cash.

  Leaning forward, Carly closed her mouth over the head of his cock. She started to reach for him with her hands but Adam stopped her. “Only your mouth,” he ordered. “Show me some of that skill the trainers promised me.”

  He sighed with pleasure as she moved her head downward, her hot little tongue stroking the underside of his cock as her lips massaged him. He reached for her hair, gripping handfuls as he pulled her head toward him, forcing her to take the length of his shaft deep into her throat. He was pleased when she didn’t gag. Her throat muscles were relaxed as she accepted him and her mouth felt like hot, wet silk as she suckled him.

  As much to forestall his orgasm as to educate her, Adam began to outline the rules he’d been thinking over in the car. “Keep focused on what you’re doing,” he told the girl whose head was bobbing at his groin, “but pay attention to what I’m saying. For the next month you will observe some basic rules of the house.” He paused a moment, savoring the hot, sweet mouth surrounding him.

  “You will not sit on any furniture without express permission or direction. You will ask permission to eat, drink, sleep, use the toilet, shower, speak and orgasm. I may or may not grant that permission, and you will abide by my decision.”

  He groaned softly as she did something especially skillful with her throat muscles. At this rate he was going to come too quickly. He pulled back, trying to focus on what he was saying. “I have a cleaning crew come in a few times a week, but you will be responsible for making the bed and keeping the bathroom spotless. You will also keep your body smooth and clean at all times.”

  She was licking just the head of his cock, her tongue sending shivers down the length of his shaft. Adam tried not to pant
as he continued. “You will sleep at the foot of my bed. I expect to be awakened by your mouth on my cock. My seed will be the first thing you taste each morning. I will mark you with a single tail and then you will shower. You will present yourself for inspection afterward. If you pass inspection, we’ll have breakfast and then I’ll take you to the dungeons for your morning torture session.”

  The image of this lovely girl strung up in his dungeon, her naked body crisscrossed with welts, her cries heard by no one but him, made his balls go tight. He grabbed Carly’s head and pulled her down onto his shaft, using her hair to hold her in place while he thrust in and out of her soft mouth.

  This time he did gag her, but he didn’t care. This felt good, so good, and he wanted to come, he needed to come so he could concentrate. His cock was thrumming, his balls tight. All at once he pulled out, letting his jism land on her face and breasts and the floor between them.

  She remained still, her lips shiny with saliva, her hair a tousle of unruly curls around her face, her chest heaving. Adam tucked himself back into his trousers. When he could catch his breath, he pointed to the blobs of ejaculate on her breasts and cheeks. “Swallow it. Every bit of it.”

  She hesitated, a flash of distaste moving over her face, but then she began to obey, swiping the goo from her body with her left index finger and placing it into her mouth. Adam made a mental note of the hesitation, for which she would be punished.

  Meanwhile he said, “The floor too. Lick it up.”

  Again the slight hesitation, but she knelt forward, shoulders to the cold marble, her pretty pink tongue lapping at the few drops that had splattered there. When she was done, she sat back on her haunches. Adam knew her knees had to be hurting from the hard floor, but to her credit she said nothing.

  He crouched on the floor in front of her. Lifting his hand, he slapped her face hard. She jerked her head to the side and gasped, her hand flying to her face. “Hands at your sides,” he barked, and he slapped her again, just as hard, on the other cheek.