by B. B. Hamel
I need money, and I need it fast. It’s as simple as that. I have no other choice but to enter into a contract with a strange man. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get paid.
The room is actually very nice. It’s like a lounge area, with tables, chairs, and couches all over. It’s richly furnished and there’s a bar toward the back offering free drinks. We were told not to get too drunk, or else we’d be tossed out, and so most of the girls are just nervously sipping their drinks. I can tell most of them are in the same position as me, very uncomfortable and unsure of themselves, but some seem like they’re regulars.
I bite my lip and look down at the lovely carpet, not sure what to do with myself. We’re meant to pass time in this room until our name is called. Once we’re called, we go out into the auction room. I was told that I’m supposed to just stand there and look straight ahead. I won’t even see the men that are bidding on me until it’s all over.
So I’ll see the man that buys me for the first time only after I’m sold to him.
I can leave at any time. The Syndicate doesn’t keep us here against our will. They made it clear that they don’t want girls that will make trouble, and everyone has been vetted to the highest level possible. My demons almost kept me out of this place, but in the end they decided that they liked me enough to let it slide.
I don’t know why, but I’m happy they did. I think.
At the end of this, I might walk away with enough money to pay off my debts completely. I can leave at any time, so this could easily be a one-time deal. The girl that recommended me said that I’d end up wanting to do it forever once the money started, but I don’t know about that.
“Nervous?”
I’m pulled out of my thoughts and look to my side. A gorgeous girl with blonde hair smiles at me. She’s a little taller than me and wears a tight blue bodycon dress. She looks beautiful and for a second, she makes me a little self-conscious.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I can’t help it.”
She smiles. “Me too.”
“What are you nervous about? You’re gorgeous.”
She laughs lightly. “Thanks. But I’ve never done this before.”
“Really?” I ask. “I haven’t, either.”
“Please. You look way too sexy to be a first timer like me.”
“I am,” I say, suddenly relieved that someone is talking to me. Over toward the door, another name is called out, and a tall girl walks out of the room.
“I’m Lisa,” my new friend says.
“Aria.”
“Pretty name.” She looks around the room. “How do you think... this works?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if nobody bids on me?”
“Oh,” I say. “I don’t know. I guess you just go home.”
“Can it be that simple?”
I shrug. “So far, I think so. They’re nice.”
“They are very nice,” she says. “Did you know that only rich men can bid on us?”
“I didn’t, actually,” I say, a little surprised.
“Yeah, that’s what I heard. This is only for very wealthy men. It’s why we’re treated so well. They don’t want a bunch of abused girls getting involved with these men. We’re supposed to be professionals.”
“I don’t feel like a professional,” I admit. “I just feel nervous.”
“Yeah,” she says, laughing lightly. “Me too. But we’ll get through this, right?”
I nod. “Right. Of course.”
Just talking a little bit to Lisa loosens me up a little bit. She smiles at me. “We’ll talk later. Good luck. There’s a glass of wine with my name on it.”
“Thanks. You too.”
She walks off toward the bar and I watch her go. My mind drifts back to the task at hand and the temporary reprieve from the nervousness is suddenly gone, and it floods back in.
But I don’t have long to wallow in it, because a couple minutes after Lisa walks away, the man at the door calls my name.
“Aria!”
It pierces through me like an arrow. I freeze, unable to breathe, as I stare at the man. He looks around the room for a second, eyebrow cocked, and I can’t move. I’m petrified.
“Aria!” he says again. “You’re up!”
I take a step. And then another. And soon I find myself walking quickly toward him. Being careful in my high heels. They make my ass look great but they hurt my feet like crazy. He nods and takes my elbow.
“This is easy,” the man says. He’s young, maybe in his thirties, with a long ponytail and a thin face. “I’m going to put you in a room right in the middle. Then a bunch of lights will come on. You stand there and wait. Men will be looking at you, so don’t pick your nose. You’ll be asked to turn, please obey. When it’s done, you’ll be taken into another room where you’ll meet your client. Understand?”
“I understand,” I say. “But how long will they get me?”
“Let’s see,” he says, looking at his clipboard. “You’re up for... one month.”
“One month?” I ask, surprised.
“That’s the minimum amount.” He shrugs. “You’ll do fine.”
“One month,” I repeat, shocked. I assumed it was for a few days, maybe a couple weeks. But a whole month?
I don’t have a chance to argue, because we step into another room and he takes me into the middle. He places me there.
“Good luck,” he says. “They’re watching now.”
He turns and leaves. The room is dark, very dark, except for some lights in the floor. I think there are mirrors all around me, but I can’t be sure. I see vague outlines of figures, maybe ten of them. A minute later, a bright light flares on, spotlighting me and blinding me to everything else.
I can hear some murmuring, like conversations happening far away, but I can’t understand them. I fold my hands in front of me and wait, trying not to freak out.
What the hell am I doing? I don’t know the first thing about being an escort, let alone being one for an entire month. They explained it to me at the beginning, that I’d be bought by a man and that I’d do whatever he wants for however long he gets me. I’d take home seventy percent of the money, which is generous considering how much we’re sold for, although I’m not really sure exactly how much that is. I assume it’s a lot, but I don’t really know anything.
Then, once I’m bought, I service him. Some men want sex, some want companionship, and very rarely men want something in between. I’m to provide whatever he needs. That will be my job for the duration of my stay with him. I’m his property.
Unless he hits me, hurts me, or threatens me in any way that makes me uncomfortable. I can text a number that’s basically my SOS with The Syndicate, and they’ll come help me if anything strange happens. There’s another number that I text just saying that I’m okay, and if I don’t contact them at least once a day, they’ll send someone to check on me.
In short, I’m safe, and I’m about to be some man’s property. I can hear more talking, but I don’t know what they’re saying. I wish I could hear them. I wish I could see them.
What if he’s unattractive? I can fake it, of course. I can handle that. But what if he wants something that I can’t do? It’s possible that I won’t make him happy. I don’t want to fail at this. I have no other options.
“Aria, please turn.”
The voice is sudden and startles me. After a second, I turn around.
“Spread your legs, please.”
I obey, spreading my legs wide.
“Thank you. Turn back around and stand naturally, please.”
I listen again, turning all the way around and get back into my normal stance. I feel strange. I thought I might feel like a piece of meat, but because I can’t see the men that are bidding on me, I don’t really feel like they’re even out there.
But I know they are. This dress, these heels, I never wear this sort of clothing. I’m a simple girl, never had much money. Especially after my de
mons pushed me into hole after hole and dug me into this pit of bad debt that I find myself in now.
The lights drop off as suddenly as they had come on and a side door opens. I blink, trying to get my vision back, and that man with the ponytail is back.
“This way,” he says softly, taking my arm.
“What happened?” I ask, suddenly panicking. “Did I make a mistake?”
“No,” he says, and I can see that he’s smiling. “Not at all. You did great.”
“Really?”
“Really. I think you’ll be pleased, actually.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.”
He leads me down another hallway, past large paintings and statues, and places me into another room. It’s a lounge room, like the one before, but much smaller and without a bar. There’s one table and some couches.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” he says. “Your client will be in soon.”
“My client?” I ask. “Someone bought me?”
“Someone bought you.”
“How much did he pay?”
The man smiles. “Be patient. He’ll be here soon.”
He leaves and I’m left alone. I sit down at the table, heart hammering in my chest.
Someone really bought me. I have to admit, I never thought someone really would. Not after seeing all those other beautiful girls in the other room. They’re the kind of women that I thought men would want, not a plain girl like me. I’m five foot three and nothing special. My dark hair is thick and long, which I think is my best feature, although boyfriends have told me that it’s my ass. I don’t really know about that. I haven’t had a boyfriend in a few years now. I’m twenty-four, didn’t go to college, and wasted the prime years of my life.
I tap my nails on the tabletop, nervous as hell, not sure what to expect. Frankly, I’m afraid. The man that comes through the door will be the man that owns me for the next month. What if I hate him? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know how I can do this for a whole month. I’m going to be someone’s toy, someone’s property. I’m going to submit to him because I need this money, and this is the best way I could find to get it.
I’m freaking out and I know it, but I can’t help myself. It’s overwhelming and so new. I want to get up and run away, get the hell out, but I know what’s waiting for me out in the real world is much worse.
I need this. It’s that simple. I can’t run away.
As I look up, the door slowly opens. My heart starts to beat erratically out of nerves and I feel like I might faint.
And then he steps into the room.
Tall and broad. Bright green eyes. Handsome as hell. He looks muscular under that perfectly tailored suit. He’s young, maybe in his early thirties, and I can’t help but stare at him.
This is the man who owns me. I know it deep down inside of me. He smiles at me and shuts the door behind him.
This can’t be real. He’s too handsome. He’s way too handsome, and young, and gorgeous, and oh crap, he’s looking at me with this sexy cocky grin that’s driving me insane.
“Hello, Aria,” he says, his voice rich and deep. “My name is Ethan. And I just spent a lot of money to make you mine.”
I can only nod, heart hammering in my chest, and I feel like I might pass out at any second.
3
Ethan
The first time I saw Aria, she was standing in the middle of a stage with lights glowing down all around her.
She looked perfect. That’s the only way I can describe it. The way she folded her hands in front of her and looked nervously at the ground made me instantly fascinated by her. I didn’t expect to actually bid, and really thought I wasn’t going to, not until I actually hit the button and wrote down a number.
The girls before Aria were all beautiful but none of them interested me. I’d seen women like them before, slept with women like them before, and I wasn’t interested in trying them again. They were too confident and too conventionally pretty. Aria was beautiful as well, but in a different way. Her long, thick hair framed her thin, pale face and made her blue eyes that much brighter. I couldn’t help but stare at her body as they had her spin around.
It was totally surreal. I was alone in my own little vestibule with a small computer screen in front of me. I could see the starting bid and I watched as men began to put money down on her. As soon as I saw that other men wanted her, I knew that I had to have her. I couldn’t let some other bastard take her home, not when I couldn’t be sure how they’d treat her.
It was a moment of insanity, but I wrote an absurdly high number and submitted it. There was a pause and then my bid was accepted. No other bids came through, and a minute later I won the auction.
After Aria left the stage, I was escorted out of my room by the same young woman that brought me in there. She took me down a series of hallways and left me outside of a room, saying that Aria is in there and that I can go in any time. She handed me a sheaf of papers with the winning bid amount on it and what appeared to be a contract.
Then she left, and that’s how I find myself standing outside of this room, my heart pounding.
I can’t believe how nervous I am to meet her. I’ve met thousands of beautiful women in my life and slept with a fair number of them, too. But I’ve never felt this nervous before. It’s absurd.
I own her. I bought this beautiful girl to keep for a month. I have responsibilities that were all described to me beforehand, like making sure she’s fed and clothed and made comfortable. She has to be able to contact her people once a day, or else they’ll come looking for her. And they physically check on her a few times as well, to make sure she’s not being abused. If I break terms, there will be consequences, though they didn’t say what kind of consequences.
I don’t plan on hurting her. I don’t know what I really plan on doing with her, to be totally honest. I don’t want to fuck some girl that I bought and who has to do what I want. That’s not fun, not at all.
As I stand there, it suddenly occurs to me what I have to do.
If I’m going to sleep with her, she has to want it. I can’t just take her because I paid for her. There’s no fun in that, and it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable just thinking about it.
I know what I need to do. I have to seduce her. I have to make her want to do it.
That’s going to be hard. She’s an escort and it’s not likely that she genuinely wants to fuck her clients. She’s doing all of this for money, and I have to convince her to do it for sheer pleasure.
I have a month to pull it off. Maybe I’ll even get some companionship out of this deal if she is never seduced. It’ll be hard to know when she truly wants it, since it’s her job to make me feel like she does, but I’m a good judge of character.
It’s how I got so far in business. I can read people and understand what they really want from life. I know how to give it to them and how to take it away. I have to assume that I’ll be able to see through her bullshit and truly understand when she wants me and when she’s just putting on a performance for the man that bought her.
I can feel my nervousness slowly recede as I begin to plan how I’m going to do this. I feel good having an idea and there’s an excitement coursing through me, beneath all the uncertainty.
I haven’t felt excited in months, not since work got insanely busy. But now I feel it, deep down in my core, and I can’t wait to see what I can do with this woman. With my new toy, my Aria.
I take a deep breath then open the door. I shut it softly behind me before facing her, a grin spreading out across my face.
She’s gorgeous. Way more fucking gorgeous in person. She looks about as nervous as I felt standing outside, which makes me feel so much more comfortable. She’s smaller than I expected, too, which I really like. I like that I am physically dominant and larger than she is. I love her small, perky breasts and her hips and her thick ass, her body is perfect.
And I love the look on her face. This
is the first time she’s actually seeing me. I bet she expected some old, fat rich guy with no hair and halitosis. Instead, she’s getting me, and I can tell she already likes it.
“Hello, Aria,” I say. “My name is Ethan. And I just spent a lot of money to make you mine.”
She nods, her eyes wide. She looks like she might pass out, so I pour her a glass of water from the side table and place it in front of her. She takes a few sips before putting it back down.
“Thank you,” she says.
I put out my hand and she places hers in mine. We shake softly. “Good to meet you,” I say.
“You too,” she answers, looking away.
I sit down across from her and place the contract down on the table between us. There are pens in a small holder at the edge of the table and I can’t help but smile to myself. These people are professionals.
“Are you nervous, Aria?” I ask her, knowing the answer.
“Yes,” she admits. I find that endearing.
“Why?”
“I’ve never done this before.”
I raise an eyebrow, a little surprised. “Never?”
“Never,” she confirms. “I’ve never been an... escort before.”
Interesting. I lean back in my chair and watch her, studying her. She does look more nervous than I expected and she’s having a hard time making eye contact, probably from her nervousness. Finally, I get her to look at me, and she smiles.
“What?” she asks.
“Just looking at you. You’re not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “This is my first time, too.”
“Really?” She sits up. “You’ve never bought an, uh, escort before?”
“Never,” I say. “You’re my first.”
“Well then. I’m glad we can do this for the first time together, then.”
