I know he’s joking and he’s probably doing it to diffuse tension but I turn my glare away from my father and aim it at Steve now. He doesn’t need to be encouraging Jenna. She’s been infatuated with me for a long time and would probably cut out on work if she thought I would agree to Steve’s suggestion, even if it meant losing her job.
Lots of women want to fuck me. I’m rich but I also happen to be good-looking and well-hung. These women think they can show me a good time but they don’t know what sort of depraved things I’m into. No one does, although my father has some sort of a clue, and obviously disapproves.
“That’s a great idea that Steve has, Son,” he says now, nodding at Steve and then at me. He wouldn’t normally approve of me dating a bartender but he’d also do anything to get me out of going to the club.
“Very funny,” I tell them, pretending it’s all some big joke.
But I know that my dad’s patience with me is wearing thin. He wants me to act normal, settle down with a good girl, avoid going to The Exchange and be like every other middle aged man with a boring sex life and an apathetic relationship.
That’s not going to happen. I have to do a better job of acting like it’s going to happen, though, since Father Dearest still controls the wallet.
But not tonight.
Tonight, there’s a Valentine's Day auction at The Exchange. And there's going to be a new girl there. As one of the VIP members, I’ve heard rumors that she’s only going to be there for this one night: A Valentine’s Day special.
I know I’ll be the highest bidder, because I have the most money to spend and I intend to buy her. And then I intend to do everything and anything I want with her: to explore my deepest, darkest, most depraved desires with her, since I will have bought her for what will undoubtedly be a lot of serious cash.
I fucking hope she’s worth it.
My cock hardens a bit just thinking about it.
There are only so many girls who are into the kind of sex I appreciate. Only so many who can take it from me. Who are willing to let me do what I need to do to them.
Even some girls who accept money for sex aren’t able to take on the kind of challenge I present. They aren’t able to be vulnerable enough, to give their whole bodies— and minds— to me so that I can do what I please with them.
There's a small pool to choose from and I appreciate them all, without getting close to any of them— which is the whole point of everything.
I always like when someone new starts at the Exchange. It’s rare to find a girl willing to put up with my preferences, my needs and desires. But I hope this new girl is one of them. Because I’m certainly prepared to spend a fortune on her.
As I head towards the door I hear my dad clucking his tongue at me and I’m reminded of another reason this girl better be worth it.
He says, “We’re going to talk later, Son.”
And I know that my days of frequenting The Exchange may be numbered.
This new girl had better let me take her. And I don’t mean to dinner.
She better be willing to let me enter her long, wide, slow, fast, gentle, hard or however else I want to. And then she’d better let me stay there for as long as I want, until I’ve had my fill of her and released my most primal desires inside her.
I need her to let me do as I please with her, and be a very, very, very bad boy. Because after this I have to start being good so that I can keep my fortune.
Chapter 5 – Celeste
I’m running late by the time I arrive at The Exchange and I’m worried that I’ll get Rachel in trouble. But no one seems to notice.
“Right this way,” says a security guard, walking me to a curtained-off room where beautiful women are milling about.
Some of them are drinking out of cocktail or wine glasses while others are applying their makeup or doing their hair.
“Hello,” says a high-pitched, nasal voice. I turn around to see a tall, skinny brunette, her hand outstretched. “I’m Bianca.”
“Celeste,” I tell her, shaking her hand.
She snaps her fingers and a tuxedo-clad waiter walks over to us, holding a tray full of drinks.
“Oh I don’t really…” I start to protest, but she picks up one of the glasses and hands it to me.
“You must be new,” she says, looking me up and down. I can’t tell whether the look is meant to be approving or not. “I haven’t seen you around.”
Before I can answer, she clinks her glass against mine.
“Cheers. You’ll really probably want this,” she insists.
I smile and then take a drink with her, the fruity liquid burning its way down my throat. I do my best not to grimace. It’s not like I’m an alcohol virgin.
I’ve had my share of wild drunken nights drinking wine coolers at high school parties. Rachel and I have had hot toddies at her apartment or a couple rum and cokes in my dorm room. I’ve even been to a frat party.
I just don’t particularly like drinking because I like to remain in control of all my faculties. I also didn’t think I should drink on the job, but apparently this job is different than most, in more ways than one.
“I’m filling in for Rachel tonight,” I tell Bianca.
“Oh, that’s right,” she says, nodding.
Suddenly her look definitely looks approving. Impressed, even.
“She told me she’d asked you to come in her place so she could spend Valentine’s Day with her boyfriend.”
“Yeah, instead of a lecherous old rich dude,” I joke.
The smile falls from her face and I realize that probably sounded judgmental. I should keep my comments to myself. I hate how socially awkward I always turn out to be.
“They’re all rich but they’re definitely not all old,” Bianca says. “Or not that old, anyway. Actually, many are trust fund guys or self-made tech billionaires. Some are nerdy— if you’re into geek culture— while others are charming, and quite handsome to boot.”
“Oh,” I tell her, trying to dig myself out of a hole.
It sounds like she’s running a matchmaking service instead of an… auction service. Is she running it? Is she the “Madam” here? Should I call her “Madam Bianca”? I have so many questions but I can’t ask them since my foot is still stuck in my mouth thanks to the last stupid comment I blurted out.
“I was just kidding,” I tell her quickly. “About them being super old. And about anything else I may have said that might have been taken the wrong way. Sorry about that. I’m nervous. This is my first time doing… this.”
Or anything like this. At all.
“In fact,” Bianca continues with a shrug, as she takes another sip of her drink, picking up where she left off, obviously without caring about what I was saying, “A lot of us wish we could date these guys. I know your BFF Rachel did, before she found her own rich guy who doesn’t know about her deep dark secret job.”
“She did?” I ask, annoyed that there was something this smug girl knows about Rachel that I didn’t.
I can’t tell if Bianca is being threatening, or welcoming. I know I probably offended her with my comment. And I’m glad that anyone here is talking to me. I thought I’d be a wallflower no one would want to look at.
But maybe she’s messing with me. I just never trust people and can never be sure of their intentions.
“Yeah, but Rachel suffers from the same problem that most of us do,” Bianca says, with another shrug.
“And what is that?” I ask.
“She’s a bit too wild and experienced for these guys to take seriously. It’s a conundrum, no doubt. Most girls only work here because they’re sexually open. But the majority of the guys who come here only seriously date the shy, innocent types. So, I think you’ll do well here.”
She raises her eyebrows at me knowingly.
“What do you mean?” I ask her, feeling stupid.
“Oh, just… you know,” she says, smirking. “You’re new here. You seem innocent. And you’re a virgin, ri
ght?”
I can feel the heat rushing to my face and I know it’s turning red.
“I… um…”
Damn Rachel.
Rachel has never had much of a filter but I can’t believe she told her co-workers— or at least this Bianca chick I’ve never heard of— that I’m a virgin. That’s a private fact about me. It’s not hers to share.
I would call and curse her out— even if she is at the dinner where she hopes to receive a marriage proposal— if we were allowed to have phones in here. Since we’re not, I’d left mine in the car and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to go out there and get it. But the first chance I have, I’m going to let her know how I feel.
I don’t have time to think any further about it— or to further answer Bianca’s prying question, because an older woman in a ball gown— Is she the Madam?, who the hell is the Madam?, I can’t help but wonder —clinks a spoon against her wine glass and calls out, “Okay ladies, time to get this show on the road.”
Bianca pats my shoulder, as if to tell me I don’t have to formally her answer her question— she already knows. Then she says, “Don’t forget your bracelet, hon.”
“Oh yeah,” I reply, looking around until my eyes fall on a table in the corner that has different colored bracelets lined up in rows.
I had imagined paper or rubber bracelets like the kind given out at skating rinks, carnivals or clubs, to show who has paid or who is old enough to drink. Silly me. These are sparkling diamond bracelets, with different colored gems accenting the diamonds.
“Rachel said to get a yellow one.”
“You want a pink one tonight, Dear,” Bianca says, with a patronizing smile.
I look at her, distrusting her words.
How I wish I had a phone, and that I could confirm with Rachel. I had never been able to figure out why she had told me to wear a yellow one, or what it all even means.
“But Rachel said—” I insist.
“You were late and you didn’t hear Terri’s announcement about it being Valentine’s Day,” Bianca says, in a rush, as if she’s already tired of helping me. She nods towards the lady who had told us to get the show on the road. “Tonight, there are only Valentine’s colors and a different system.”
I look at the bracelets lined up on the table. Bianca’s right. There aren’t any yellow ones. Just red, pink and white.
Bianca winks at me as she holds open the curtain that leads out onto the stage. I guess I’m going to have to trust this tall, meddling stranger, because I don’t have any other choice. The bracelet color that Rachel instructed me to get is simply not an option.
It looks like I’ll be going with pink.
I gulp the rest of my drink down. Suddenly the waiter is back at my side.
“A shot, dear?” he asks, holding up a small glass full of clear liquid.
It’s tempting. I don’t know what awaits me out there and the cocktail I just finished sure feels good swirling around inside my veins and my mind. It aids me in not thinking too much, not asking too many questions like I usually do.
I look over at Bianca, who is waiting for me to join her as she goes out onto the stage. I’m afraid she’ll disapprove because we don’t have time, but she nods at me and winks, as if knowing how much I need this drink.
“I don’t really do shots…” I start to say, and the waiter places the tray on the table and holds up a smaller size glass full of the cocktail I’d just finished.
“That’s why we have this chaser,” he assures me.
Looks like I’ll be doing a lot of things tonight that I don’t usually do.
“Okay, thanks,” I tell him, pounding down the shot and then gulping the chaser before I can feel it hit my stomach.
This time I can’t hide my grimace. It was rough, but I’m already grateful for it as I relax a little bit more.
I think about the guys waiting out there to bid on the pleasure of my company, and maybe more. Are they really handsome, and rich, and enviable, like Bianca says?
My heart skips a beat as I finish the chaser and hand it back to the waiter with another nod of thanks.
Then I grab the pink bracelet and hurry to catch up with Bianca, anxious to see what awaits me beyond the curtain.
Chapter 6 – Maxim
I watch the girls file out onto the stage, but I know all of them. None of them are the new girl.
Where is she?
I didn’t come here tonight to be with any of the women lined up in front of me. I could take any woman I wanted to dinner on Valentine’s Day. I could have an Ivy League educated debutante with whom to discuss politics, science or literature over wine and caviar.
I could fly her to my cabin in Aspen where we could ski all day and fuck all night. I could marry her and have three gorgeous babies and live happily ever after.
If I were just a normal man, even a normal filthy rich man, I could do any of these things. But I’m not a normal filthy rich man. I’m Maxim Drier. I have particular predilections. And that’s why I come to this club.
I want a woman who will let me tie her up and spank her ass until it’s red and welted. I want a woman who will moan out of both pleasure and pain while the switches hit her bare skin and then beg me for more. And then I want to walk away from that woman and never have to see her again unless I want to pay her to do it all over again.
Just when I’m beginning to think it was a lost cause and that I should just go home, I finally see the woman I’m hoping will be all that and more for me tonight. She walks hesitantly out onto the stage, following Bianca. She looks timid, out of place, and totally fucking gorgeous.
My cock gets half hard at the mere sight of her. She has wisps of sandy hair— a beautiful mix of brown and blonde shades— falling down over her blue eyes and I want to tug on them while I fuck her from behind.
She has the best figure I’ve ever seen: hourglass shaped with a curvy ass and full breasts. She has pale skin with beautiful red coloring in her cheeks.
I immediately look for her bracelet, to see what color it is, but she’s still fiddling with putting it on. It seems to take forever for me to be able to see its color, and my heart nearly pounds out of my chest when I see what it is: pink.
I search my memory of last week, when Bianca told me about the Valentine’s Day auction. I’m almost positive she told me pink meant they were down for everything. And I do mean everything.
White is the normal yellow— dinner only, how boring. I don’t even bid on those girls. If they’re so chaste and shy they shouldn’t be working at a place like this. I don’t want to corrupt their innocence with my dirty, filthy ways.
Red is still the same color as it is always is, and means normal sex. I used to consider girls on this level but it was a fucking tease, and a bore. So now I only go for girls wearing orange bracelets, which I’m pretty sure are purple tonight.
Orange means they’ll do anal sex and some BDSM. Nothing too crazy. Nothing like I like to do. But enough that it suffices. More than girls outside the club are usually willing to do— which is why I like to come here.
And then sometimes, on special nights like tonight, they change everything around and there’s a new level. Tonight, that level is signified by the pink bracelet— or at least I hope it is.
Pink means I can do what I want with the girl who wears it. Any kind of freaky, kinky BDSM. I could lock her in a basement and keep her as my sex slave for a week if I wanted to… not that I would.
A girl with a pink bracelet is mine for the taking, and the keeping. I’ve not only bought her body but her soul.
But I had been so excited to hear about the new girl coming on Valentine’s Day that the rest of what Bianca said had all mixed together in a blur. So, I could be wrong about the colors, and I’m second-guessing it now that the new girl is wearing one.
My understanding is that she’s filling in for Rachel, who is usually a yellow- bracelet, dinner- only type of girl. It’s odd that a brand- new girl would jump to the hardcor
e BDSM type level of service, especially when the girl she’s replacing wasn’t one of those girls.
I just hope I’m right that this new girl is going to give me everything I could possibly want. Because if that’s true, then I’m in for a very happy Valentine’s Day indeed.
Chapter 7 – Maxim
Luckily, Terri is coming my way. She’ll help clear up this mystery about the new girl.
“Maxim, so glad you could make it,” she says, sidling up to me and whispering in my ear. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I have some good news for you.”
“I have a question first,” I ask her.
“Of course,” she says. “Anything you need, just ask.”
I’m their biggest spender. I know she’ll do anything to make me happy. But only the new girl can do that tonight.
“I’m just making sure I understand the color system tonight,” I whisper. “The bracelet color representing the level I most like to purchase on special occasions such as tonight is now… pink… correct?”
I’m almost afraid to ask, thinking for sure that the answer is no.
But she just nods and smiles.
“Yes, Maxim, that’s the level you prefer. And as always we appreciate your patronage.”
Now my cock is standing at full attention, imagining the many different ways it wants to defile and degrade the innocent- looking girl standing on stage.
I can’t believe someone who looks like she does— and who just showed up here for her first time, ostensibly standing in for a friend— would let me do such vile acts to her. But I suppose she knows the price tag for that level of service is very high.
Maybe she needs to pay for college. My money will pay for that and then some.
“And Bianca shared some good news with me,” Terri continues.
I look at her, intrigued. What other good news could there be, now that I know this girl will let me do what I want with her?
Bianca is one of the top girls at the club and helps Terri keep things running smoothly. She gathers intelligence among the girls and passes the word on to Terri so that Terri can let clients such as me know things that are of import to us. So, I’m interested to hear what Bianca has found out about the sweet young thing waiting for me to buy her.
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