Smoke

by C. P. Mandara

  "Well done, everyone. You've got through the first hurdle. All you need to do now is nail the next. We're going to assign you a personal assistant, and she'll help guide you through stage two. Are there any questions?" Pencil dress thought this was extremely funny, and she sailed out through the black door, still giggling to herself.

  Chapter Ten

  When Cassie came in to find me, I'd worked myself up into such a state of panic I was nearly foaming at the mouth. My legs and arms were trembling madly, and my thoughts were swinging all over the place like demented yo-yo's. I still wasn't sure whether I was more scared of being bought by the wrong person, being bought by Dumortier, or being sent straight home. Failure and I are not comfortable bedfellows.

  She obviously knew what was happening because she squatted down towards the floor, faced me, and put her hand gently on my shoulder.

  "Hey, look at me," she whispered. My head turned towards her, complying automatically, but I didn't see her. "Your face looks like someone's taken a bottle of bleach to it, Thirty-Eight. You need to breathe, honey. I know it's hard with the gag, but try to concentrate on sucking in as much air as you can through your nose. Everyone's aware it's your first time, but your master wouldn't have signed you up for this if he didn't think you could handle it." Shows how much you know, I thought, but I did as she asked. Taking long, slow inhalations through my nose, my pulse finally calmed down a little and my trembling lessened. If I was like this now, how was I going to cope in a room full of randy men in a minute? What had I signed myself up for?

  “Good. That’s it. In and out, in and out. You did so well out there tonight. You should be proud of yourself. It’s unusual that a newcomer will receive a bid on their debut, and you received not one, but two.” I looked at her quizzically. It was really only one as far as I was aware.

  "Ah, Nina didn't tell you? There are two interested parties now. You will be receiving visits from a Mr. Nieman and a Mr. Jonas. It's my job to get you ready for those and give you what advice I can. It's in everyone's best interests to make sure you have successful viewings. We don't want you to go home with a big fat zero next to your name. We want you to be able to embark on the next step of your journey of self-discovery – and you're now within touching distance of that. You just need to hold it together for another hour, and after that – life as you know it is about to change – and it will be amazing." I wanted to look at Cassie as if someone had just buried an axe inside her skull. This was my pep talk? A journey of self-discovery? Um, right. I was all for sexual freedom and expression, but I was pretty sure what they were doing here wasn't the right way to go about it. Mind you, Cassie probably had no idea what happened after the girls left this building. She'd have been fed some kind of rubbish by the organisers and given a healthy wage packet, which usually stopped too many awkward questions. The whole setup was quite clever, actually. As the girls were gagged for most of the evening, there wasn't much opportunity to find out their background stories, anyway.

  "Follow me." Cassie's retreating back spurred me into action, and I scrabbled around to get my limp limbs back off the floor. Once I was upright, my feet spurred themselves into action and began padding quickly behind her. She did check once, to make sure I was still there, and after that, it was a maze of corridors and doors that had me utterly lost in seconds. We walked over a long, narrow glass bridge and through it I could see the auction room below. When we left it, we were descending down masses of vinyl-covered stairs, and I had to hold the bannister beside me for support. Although I was very fit by normal standards, today seemed to have taken its toll on me. That wasn't a good sign, as the hardest part was yet to come. Still, I was good in a tight spot, and they didn't get much tighter than this.

  When we stopped descending, we seemed to enter what looked like a hotel of some sort. Carpeted floors, wooden doors with gold numbers, and key card slots were all around me. The wallpaper was reminiscent of a Chinese takeaway with bold reds and golds, the ambient lighting was dim, and everywhere was spotlessly clean. We seemed to have been walking for miles before Cassie finally stopped outside a room and inserted a black plastic key into the slot beside it. The room number was thirty-eight. Nice touch, huh?

  “This is us,” Cassie whispered, making me wonder if someone was already in the room. My adrenaline spiked again as the door opened and I held my breath, wondering what I was about to find.

  Having been expecting men, it was a little bit of a shock to find a woman waiting for me, but my brain cells still weren't functioning on all eight cylinders. As soon as she came into view, I took note of the black basque and stockings, and realised she was a member of staff, the same as Cassie. Judging by the two large makeup bags she carried with her, she was here to do a little touch-up work before my interested buyers got here.

  Glancing at my surroundings, I quickly realised that this wasn't an average hotel room. For starters, large mirrored panels ran around the back of the place, and there was no window or bed. There was a door off to my left that contained a bath and shower, but the rest of the room was starkly furnished. There were a couple of leather chairs against the wall which I assumed would be for my buyers, and the only other piece of furniture appeared to be a black leather bench with an adjustable back in the centre of the room. It had a variety of restraints littered all around it, so it didn't take a genius to guess where I was going to be sitting.

  "This is Lisa. She'll help you get cleaned up, and then we can begin. You've only got about twenty minutes, though, so be quick. Before I go and find your gentlemen, I'll just give you a couple of pieces of advice. The men want to know that you've been properly trained, so follow their orders immediately and to the letter. Try to look enthusiastic. I know it's your first time, and you're nervous, but nothing kills passion like fear. Your second buyer this evening is a regular customer of ours, and he likes his slaves with a little ‘attitude,' shall we say? If you're given a chance to speak, normally I would advise you to say very little unless you're talking dirty, in which case you can talk until your throat runs dry or until they see fit to fill it with something, and they will fill it this evening – take my word for it. They may decide to fuck you, or they may want to play with toys and clamps – be prepared for anything. There are no rules here. With buyer number two, though, you can play a bit of cat and mouse. He won't mind if you answer him back - in fact, he'll probably encourage you. Trust your instincts, and hopefully, you'll be rewarded in the auction room later." She then turned around to walk back the way she had come, and I figured that I had been dismissed. Before she got to the door, though, she turned around and said, "Best of luck, Thirty-Eight. You can do this." Cassie then winked at me. It was nice to know someone had faith in me.

  For the next twenty minutes, Lisa kept me on my toes. A bath was run, scented lotion was poured in, and I was given a thorough scrub down. When I came out, she flattened the bench so I could lay on it, and then covered me with scented, glittering body oil. The label read, ‘Night Jasmine,' and it smelt incredible. They were using every advantage they could get, it seemed. After that she massaged me for a bit, which was supposed to help ‘loosen me up,' and she then had me sit up, so she could reapply all of my make up and style my hair. Lisa piled it on top of my head, using pins to secure it in cascading waves around my face, with a few wisps left to roam free. I had no idea why she was putting so much effort into something that was about to get wrecked in a few minutes time.

  "The guys enjoy pulling the pins out and getting their hands stuck. They love the transformation from pretty girl next door to wanton whore. Don't ask me why. I just follow orders." Lisa's nimble fingers worked quickly, and they knew what they were doing. One moment I was a tousled wreck, and in the next, I'd been transformed into an elegant socialite – who'd suddenly lost all her clothes. It didn't really matter anymore – I was getting used to this naked lark. It was everything else that I had a problem with.

  Lisa leaned forward for a second and then whispered low in my ear
. "You should be aware that these rooms have cameras and they record everything you do and say. The company says it's for insurance purposes, but I think blackmail is a better term. Just be careful." With that, she then began packing her things away brusquely, and with a brief nod of her head, she was gone.

  Being left alone immediately sent me into panic mode. I had a tendency to overthink things, and today's scenario involved a lot of twists and turns that could go any which way but where I wanted. Burying my feet into the soft carpet beneath me, I ran them gently up and down the soft pile, trying to focus on what was important. Judging by what I'd heard earlier at the auction, there was little chance Nieman was my guy. There might be a possibility that Jonas was connected to Dumortier – especially if he was one of the last two black suits that came to visit me, but it was a long shot at best. Realistically, I was searching for a needle in a haystack, and my chances of success were dismal at best. Perhaps it was time to brace myself for disappointment.

  The sound of the door handle being turned then alerted me that the games were about to begin. What to do now? My head swirled in terror for a moment, but I then I got a hold of myself. Get down on all fours, assume the position, and hope for the best. While I waited for my buyer to enter, the pressure of my heart beating was almost more than my body could bear.

  "Mr. Nieman, you have a thirty-minute slot with Thirty-eight. I'll come back later to knock five minutes before your time is up, and then once more when the session is over. If you need anything at all, please call. Do you have my card?" That was Cassie being overly obsequious to my first client. Ten to one that woman was getting a commission from my sale when the night was over.

  “Yes, thank you, Cassie. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.” A soft click indicated the door had closed and I was on my own. Officially having entered the Twilight Zone, I felt a thrill of fear run through me.

  “We meet again, Thirty-Eight.” A pair of black leather Oxford shoes approached my nose. They were so shiny I could almost see my face in them. Perhaps that would be one of my jobs if Nieman bought me – shining his shoes. James has said that my new life would probably involve lots of fun chores, and none of them would be completed in the way I would expect.

  “Do you like the smell of leather, slave?” Nieman squatted down in front of me and let his fingers gloss over my curls. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

  In response to his question, I nodded. I wasn’t entirely sure I was in love with it, but there was nothing offensive about it, either.

  “Good. If I buy you, one of your tasks will be to lick my shoes clean every morning before I go to work. Think you can do that?” He grabbed hold of my chin roughly and pulled my face upwards. Again, I nodded. As far as tasks went, shoe licking was capably within my grasp. Next thing I knew, Nieman had walked around the back of me, and his shoe was against my ass. “Crawl for me. Fast as you can.” To give me a bit of extra speed, the flat of his shoe propelled my backside forward at a rather uncomfortable angle. Managing to recover my balance, I scrambled forwards as fast as I could to avoid another one as he walked behind me.

  "That's it, Thirty-Eight. Let's see that ass wiggle." When the sole of his shoe thudded into my ass again, I knew it was going to be a long thirty minutes.

  "I think it's time to take that gag off, don't you? While those pretty pink lips look incredible dribbling around it, I think I can put them to better use."

  That was probably my cue to stop crawling, but the thought of doing what he had just suggested made me crawl even faster. Even though my brain was trying to tell me I needed this man to buy me, everything else in my body was screaming run. Eventually, he managed to catch up with me, and a sharp tug of his hand in my hair sent pins scattering like confetti all over the room.

  “Is this how your master taught you to behave?” His condescending tone immediately made me hang my head. What was I doing? Did I want to get myself kicked out of here just as I was given a foothold inside the door? Get it together, Lois.

  Nieman unbuckled the gag swiftly, and the relief I felt at being able to swallow again was great. For a second or two my throat worked convulsively, but then I managed to get a hold of myself.

  "What do you have to say for yourself, slave?" His tone was sharp, and I knew I was in trouble.

  "I'm sorry, Sir. This is my first time here, and I'm scared." The death grip he had on my hair loosened somewhat, and his face relaxed a little.

  "God, you have the most beautiful voice, Thirty-Eight. Normally I like to keep my slaves gagged, but I might make a special exception for you every now and again." Nieman looked at me in wonder for a second or two, as if he had suddenly changed his opinion of me entirely. His tone softened as he caressed my face and then he said, "With your hair pinned up that like, you look stunning. You have a beautiful, swan-like neck, and when your hair is down around your face, it covers up those exquisitely angled cheeks. You're quite a beauty up close, aren't you, Thirty-Eight?" Although I was now free to speak, I had no idea what to say to that. Instead, I looked up at him shyly and gave him a half smile.

  Angling my face this way and that so he could examine me, Nieman regarded me with renewed interest.

  "How many men have you been with?" His eyes narrowed on my face, and it was clear he was interested in my answer.

  “Um, let me think,” I stammered, wondering what the correct answer to that question was. Pretending to nod my head as I thought about all my sexual conquests, I wondered whether I should go with a high or low figure. In the end, I gave up trying to cross-examine the question and went with the truth, “Fourteen in total, Sir.”

  “In a BDSM context, and one at a time, or all at once?”

  My head snapped back in shock at that question, as I’m sure he’d intended it to. The man was trying to figure me out.

  “One at a time, Sir, and only two in a BDSM context.”

  "Oh. My. God." Nieman emphasised each of those three words as if he were in shock himself.

  “What are you doing here? Your master did explain what would be expected of you, no? Most of the people here will be anticipating mass orgies, girl-on-girl, as well as the norm, and most of the kink is taken to extremes. Did he warn you, or did he just dump you in at the deep end?”

  "He warned me. I know what I'm letting myself in for." My voice was whisper soft, and my eyes fluttered to the floor. Acting in a submissive manner was easier than I thought.

  “You don’t, but it’ll be interesting to watch you figure it out. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to take it easy on you, so listen up and try your best to obey.” Nodding, I sat patiently at his feet. Feeling sure that he would unzip himself and ask me to take him in my mouth, I waited for the inevitable to happen.

  “Lick my shoes.” Of all the things I’d been expecting to lick, that hadn’t been first on my list, but if I’d paid attention to his earlier words, perhaps it should have.

  Nieman stood up slowly, allowing me enough room to accomplish my task. Trying my best not to think about germs, and all the lovely things that might be lurking on the end of a shoe, I stuck my tongue out and tested the waters. As far as tasks go, this was a relatively easy one, so I intended to do myself proud.

  The first lick was rather disgusting, and the taste of polish invaded my mouth in a really unpleasant way. After that, though, I put plenty of enthusiasm into my task, bathing the shiny black surface of his shoes in my saliva. If this turned him on, who was I to question it? When I was satisfied that his left shoe was as clean as I could get it, I started on the right. He had said, ‘shoes,' after all.

  I must have sat there licking for a good five minutes before his next order came. It took me by surprise, and I felt myself jump at the sound of his voice.

  "Sit down and open your mouth, Thirty-Eight." This was it. This is what I had been dreading. Thankfully, my previous task had calmed me down a little, so I wasn't as jumpy as I had been, but nerves were going to get the better of me if I wasn't careful.

&nb
sp; Doing as instructed, I lifted my head up and opened my mouth wide. Careful not to let my eyes focus on Nieman's, I kept them trained on the floor and tried not to think about what would happen next. My ears were primed for the noise of a zipper, and the slightest little sound would have me jumping up in the air.

  When Nieman’s foot came towards me, I almost didn’t see it until it was directly in front of my mouth. It startled me, which was no great surprise, but Nieman’s next words had me utterly confounded.

  “Suck it.” What, the shoe? Surely not? But it was going to be difficult to interpret that command in any other way with his foot a mere inch away from my face. Jesus, and here was me thinking I was weird.

  Opening my mouth as wide as it would go, I tentatively moved forward. This was all the encouragement he needed – because before I knew what was happening, I had a mouth full of leather. Discovering pretty early on in this experiment that adult male shoes do not fit in female mouths, it was a relief to know that my choking and spluttering didn't deter him in the least. He seemed determined to cram in as much of his shoe as possible, and I think stretching my lips to the limit was half of his game. I sat there and took it, even when he almost split my lip, and did my best not to move about too much. Nieman's balance was precarious at best, and the last thing I needed was him landing splat on his face, rendering himself unconscious. I desperately needed a bid, and if it had to be from a complete and utter nut, I'd take it.

  Thankfully, after another five minutes or so, he figured he was never going to get the whole shoe in there, so he decided to try something else. Sitting down on one of the leather chairs, he stared at me, while he considered his next move. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it, whatever it was. However, on the positive side of things, I hadn't been asked to suck his cock – and shoes weren't that bad in comparison if I was honest.