Terri leans in very close and cups her hand up around my ear.
“She’s a virgin,” she says.
“What?”
I say this too loud, and the man next to me clears his throat, as he’s straining to hear the announcements being made on stage. It’s all old hat to me— they’re stating the opening bid for the first girl. But I just found out that the one I want has never been touched. I wish I could say to him, Excuse me for being just a bit excited.
“That’s what Bianca says,” Terri repeats, with a satisfied smile on her face.
I do my best to act restrained. I don’t want her to think I’m inclined to spend any more at her club than the outrageous amount that I already do. I know she’s about to go whisper the same “good news” into the ears of another few potential bidders and I know she knows I’ll be the one to win the bidding. So, she already knows I’ll spend a fortune tonight.
“I’m going to be needing the Enclave tonight,” I inform her, mentioning a private room where high-paying patrons take a girl when they want to skip the pretense of dinner and get down to the important matters on the agenda for the evening.
“I figured as much,” she says, nodding as if it was a given. “And I’d already reserved it for your use tonight. Although, being that it’s Valentine’s Day special tonight, there are quite a few others who are wanting it as well.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, returning my full attention to the girl on stage. “And that’s understood.”
The new girl is lovely and innocent and she has no idea what’s in store for her tonight once I buy her time, her body, her heart and her soul. It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m going to make her mine. In every way possible.
Chapter 8 – Celeste
“You’re up,” Bianca says, nudging me towards the front of the stage.
I’ve felt frozen in a mixture of fear and excitement since I got out here. But now I force my feet to walk in the direction of the “auctioneer.” I still can’t get over how crazy all of this is.
“Next up we have Rach— wait a second,” the auctioneer says, as he reads his notes.
Bianca walks over to him and whispers something in his ear.
“Standing in for Rachel tonight, we have the lovely Celeste,” the auctioneer continues, after clearing his throat. “She is a nineteen- year- old university student studying political science and creative writing, who seeks a career in journalism. She enjoys playing the guitar and listening to music.”
Rachel must have given him that bio, and it’s not exactly accurate. I haven’t played the guitar since high school. And I already have a job in journalism. I won an award from my school’s journalism department that led to a part-time gig writing for the Phoenix Independent about political ethics.
In fact, if anyone from my job found out I was here— doing this— I might get fired. On the other hand, I think, squinting out into the audience, I’m sure there are some high- up politicians here and that this little gig could lead to a great expose.
“She’s wearing a pink bracelet,” the auctioneer announces, which reminds me that I can’t expose them for much, since I’m only going to be having Valentine’s Day dinner with them. “This is her first time here at The Exchange. We’ll start the bidding at ten thousand dollars.”
I look up at the auctioneer, trying hard not to let my mouth fall open in amazement.
Ten thousand dollars?
Someone is going to pay that much just have dinner with me?
“Here,” someone says, and I locate the man in the audience who is holding up a heart-shaped sign, indicating that he is placing a bid.
He’s staring right at me— as are most of the other men right now, of course, since I’m in the process of being auctioned off— but my eyes immediately lock on his. He’s so attractive.
Rachel was right. These guys are not only rich but also hot.
“I’ve got ten thousand dollars; can I get fifteen thousand dollars?” the auctioneer says, and someone else raises their sign.
I look over to that man but he is short and pudgy. So, I turn my eyes back to the first bidder.
Please, my eyes beg him. Please bid higher. Don’t make me have dinner with that guy.
He smiles at me, his light brown eyes— the color of coffee with cream— twinkling as if he knows what I’m trying to silently convey to him.
“Twenty- five thousand,” he says, without waiting for the auctioneer to increase the bid.
I expect there to be gasps or shocked reactions but everyone acts as if this is normal.
“I hear twenty- five thousand, can I get fifty thousand?” the auctioneer continues, not missing a beat and in fact doubling the price.
Fifty thousand?
“Fifty thousand,” says yet a third man, holding up his sign.
No way. Is this a dream?
I try to remember what Rachel had said about what percentage of the total amount of money bid I get. I wasn’t really listening because I’m only doing this as a favor for her— not the money— and I was more worried about the particulars of the strange arrangement to which I hesitantly agreed.
But if I’m remembering correctly, I think she said I get fifty percent, plus tips. Twenty- five thousand? For having dinner with a stranger?
I look back over at the first bidder and can’t help but add:
With a rich, handsome stranger?
Count me in.
No wonder Rachel works here. I can’t believe she would give up all this money just for Billy. She must be really into him. I hope he’s already proposed to her by now. Or maybe he’s waiting until after dessert.
“One hundred thousand,” says the first bidder, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Although he’s seated, I can tell that he’s tall. His shoulders sit high above those of the men sitting on either side of him, and he has impeccable posture. He has a full head of dark brown, wavy hair. I don’t know very much about suits but his looks very fancy and expensive.
He looks quite a bit older than me— old enough to be my father— but there’s also something sexy about that fact. I never thought I’d be into an older man and I get annoyed by the clichéd stereotype of all the old men and young girls in this city.
But if they’re being paid fifty percent of one hundred thousand dollars, and if the man isn’t that old, but is a sexy kind of old, then I suppose I shouldn’t have been so harsh in my judgment. Or maybe I’m just making excuses. Because I would actually like to have dinner with this mystery bidder. And maybe even more than that.
As the bidding increases— it’s up to one hundred and fifty thousand, and now two hundred thousand!— so does my heart rate. I also notice that I’m becoming noticeably wet.
I shift the position in which I’m standing, as if other people can see how moist my panties are. I’m a bit embarrassed that I’m so turned on by the fact that I’m being auctioned off like cattle, as I’d so sarcastically called it when I was talking to Rachel. But the first bidder continues to be the high bidder no matter who else bids, and I enjoy the fact that he wants me so badly he’s willing to pay any price.
Finally, the bidding is up to seven hundred fifty thousand dollars. The second bidder— the short, pudgy one— seems intent on winning this bidding war.
“Eight hundred thousand,” he calls out, rather meekly now.
He’s holding his sign up, but a bit lower than he usually does, as if he’s getting tired.
Come on, I will the first bidder. You’re almost there…
Sure enough, he stands up, not even bothering to bring his sign with him.
“One million dollars,” he shouts.
Now the men in the audience— and the other women still left up on stage— react like I expected them to in the beginning: sighs and gasps can be heard all around.
The second bidder lets out a flustered sigh.
“Fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You can have her.”
Thank goodness.
As
the winning bidder curves his full lips into a smile, his eyes tell me he plans to get every penny’s worth with me out of his million dollar price pointIt’s becoming clear to me that he wants me to be more than just a dinner date this Valentine’s Day. And it’s also becoming clear to me that I’m just fine with that idea.
Chapter 9 – Celeste
As I step off the stage, the handsome and mysterious and obviously filthy rich winning bidder is there to greet me.
“Hello,” he says, holding out his arm for me to take. “I’m Maxim Drier.”
“I’m Celeste Sheffield,” I tell him, before thinking better of it.
I guess there’s no anonymity here at The Exchange club. And I guess there’s also no need for him to pay up front. Because he puts a strong arm around my waist and ushers me to a different room.
It looks like a restaurant, with private booths and curtains for the patrons. I expect Maxim to signal to a waiter but instead he keeps walking and I follow him, to another room off the side.
The room is like an enclave, with an outer area similar to what I imagine— from watching movies— the VIP room of a strip club must look like: a round bench made of plush fabric circling an open area with a table in the middle. There is another door leading to an inner room, and this is where Maxim finally takes me.
What the hell?
It looks like a torture chamber in here: with chains and hooks and whips hanging on all different areas of the wall.
He shuts the door and I feel trapped. I know this should be a bad thing but it kind of feels like a good thing. Or at least a naughty, exciting thing.
“Take off your dress for me,” he says, as he begins removing his pants. “I want to make the most of the time we have. There are a lot of things I plan to do to you tonight.”
I stare at him, unable to believe his audacity, but somehow still loving it.
“Aren’t we going to eat?” I ask, stupidly.
His eyes narrow as he glares at me.
“Do I look like a man who spends a million dollars to order you overcooked meat from a sex club posing as a restaurant?”
This time I can’t stop my mouth from dropping open, but I do my best to close it quickly.
Once he’s taken off his pants, he pulls off his underwear too. He has the largest cock I’ve ever seen— not that I’ve really seen all that many. But this one seems unnaturally big. He holds it in his hand and gently strokes it until it swells up even bigger.
I have to admit, I want to touch it. Taste it. Feel it inside me. He makes me want to do things I’ve never thought capable of doing.
“Do I need to cancel my order?” he asks me. “Or are you going to do what I want?”
“I—”
I begin unzipping the back of my gown. I’m confused, but this man makes me want to drop my panties when he tells me to drop my panties.
“That’s more like it,” he says. “So, you were just playing coy.”
I nod, unsure what I’m doing. All I know is that I’m getting naked with the most handsome, well-hung, richest man I’ve ever met. And why the hell not?
I never thought I would lost my virginity this way: to a much older, more experienced, incredibly rich, devilishly handsome man whom I just met and who just happened to drop a million dollars to win a bid for me to be his Valentine’s Day treat. But I’m beginning to think it might be the hottest way for it to happen and that I’ll enjoy it more than I can possibly even imagine.
I let my dress fall to the floor. He nods and so I take off my bra and panties too.
Only then does he step closer to me. He smells like money. It must be his expensive cologne but it also seems to be a part of him, something as attached to him as that huge cock is.
He walks around behind me and puts his hands around my neck.
I tense up, wondering if this was the biggest mistake of my life. Did this guy pay a million dollars to choke me? To kill me?
But he whispers, “Relax,” in my ear, and then he nibbles on my ear lobe. It feels so good I don’t even care if I die.
His moves his hands down to my breasts and holds onto them tightly.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“Yes.”
I don’t know why, and I probably shouldn’t, but I do.
“Good,” he says.
He raises me up, while holding onto my breasts, until I’m standing on my tippy toes to reach the floor.
He nibbles my neck like he was doing to my ear and a chill runs through my entire body. “You need to trust me for this to be a good experience for both of us. If I do anything you don’t want me to do, just let me know, okay?”
“Yes,” I tell him.
“Great.”
He sets me back down to where my feet are flat on the floor again.
He reaches into a cabinet and pulls something out. It’s a small vibrator, shaped like an egg.
“Now I’m going to find out who you are,” he says, and he lays me back on a seat that looks like a cross between a bench and a table.
He retrieves some rope from a drawer. Then he ties my arms to some hooks on the wall.
I’m lying flat on my back, with my legs spread wide, my entire body completely exposed to him in every possible way.
This is not at all how I envisioned my first time would go, but I’m loving every second of it, and I can’t help but feel excited about whatever is coming next.
Chapter 10 – Maxim
I wasn’t intending to start off this way. I’m taking things a bit more slowly than I usually do. I look down at Celeste’s exposed, vulnerable pussy and her confused yet trusting eyes.
I can’t believe I’m going so easy on her. I should be furious, and demanding a refund from Terri. Clearly Celeste didn’t sign up for this and she’s not the pliant submissive I thought she would be.
And yet I feel differently about her than I do other girls I’ve taken to this room. The way that I feel different is by the fact that I feel anything at all. That’s rare, and this feeling is actually quite overpowering.
I shouldn’t continue this session. It’s obvious that she’s in over her head, as am I. Both of us are being stupid.
But I can’t stop looking at her beautiful pussy. I need to make it mine. But first I need to find out who this unique creature who just walked into this room— and my life— really is.
I rub the head of my cock up against her pussy. She squirms but I can tell it’s out of delight instead of fear. I can feel that she’s dripping wet for me.
“Do you like this?” I ask, pinching her nipple.
“Yes,” she nods, still shy but opening up a little bit.
Usually by now I’d have her tied up to the fucking ceiling. I should be pissed that she’s such a novice but I did want a virgin.
About that. I’d better confirm. As far as I know, it’s only based on a rumor.
I hold up the vibrator.
“Has there ever been a cock inside you?” I ask her.
She shakes her head.
“No?” I ask, needing to hear her say it out loud.
“No,” she says. “I mean, that’s correct. There’s never been a… cock inside me.”
That’s the right answer, so I place the vibrator up against her clit and let it work its magic.
“Oh, my god,” she breathes out, her whole body quivering along with her pussy. “That feels good.”
“You’re coming for me already, aren’t you?” I say, as she leans her head back and moans along with the humming vibrator.
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, yes.”
Juices run out of her, making a nice natural lube. I run my hands along the opening of her little pussy hole. Then I stick two fingers inside her.
“Ouch,” she calls out, struggling to sit up, but she’s unable to do so because of the ropes I’ve tied her up with.
“Good,” I tell her, as I feel along her tight, perfect pussy. “It should hurt.”
Yes, she’s a virgin all right. And I can�
��t wait to change that fact. But first, I have to find out a little more about her.
I kneel down on the floor and take my cock in my hand. Stroking myself, I run my tongue along her beautiful clit. Then I suck on it a little bit.
“Mmmmm,” she moans, her clit still engorged and sensitive from the way I made her come with the vibrator.
“Why did you come to this club tonight?” I ask her.
She tenses, obviously wanting my tongue back on her pussy.
“Because my friend Rachel couldn’t,” she answers.
“Were you afraid?” I ask her.
“Yes.”
I put my tongue back on her clit and I can feel it throbbing as I taste her delicious juices. I run it in and out of her pussy hole, tasting her sweetness.
It’s clear she’s telling the truth. She’s a virgin, she was scared, and yet here she is letting me take her. And that begs another obvious question.
“So why the pink bracelet?” I ask her.
“Bianca told me it meant I just want to have dinner,” she says.
I shake my head.
That bitch Bianca. She clearly set Celeste up for this. Just to get my money. I’m going to demand a partial refund for procuring it under false pretenses. And then I’m going to give that to Celeste, in addition to a hefty tip.
“Celeste,” I tell her. “I’m sorry. That’s not how this club is supposed to work. You don’t have to do anything with me that you don’t want to do.”
She nods, but she doesn’t say anything.
“So, do you want to have sex with me?” I ask her, raising my head so that I can look into her eyes.
What the fuck has come over me?
This isn’t like me at all. I’m a take charge kind of guy. I should have her over my knee, spanking her for saying she wanted me to take her to dinner instead of letting me tie her up right away.
But there’s something about her that just does it for me. Fulfills a deep, aching longing I didn’t even know was there. And makes me want to protect her. After I defile her, of course.
Sold on Christmas Eve Page 14
