by Kiru Taye
As they got closer to the door, her heart rate increased. Surely he’d stop and turn around, saying it had all been a prank to see what she would do.
No. He didn’t stop when Madam Vivian opened the door. He walked in.
Breathe, girl. You can do this.
The air was cool as she stepped inside the busy space. There were about twenty people from a rough count. Men in two-piece attires, men in agbada, even two white men in jeans and dress shirts. The men sat in groups of two, three or more around tables.
There were naked women of different shapes and sizes and colour. Some were kneeling on the floor beside the men while others were serving. There was a slim white woman with brown hair kneeling by two men in flowing jalabia.
She’d seen it all now. At least she wasn’t alone in her nakedness.
They were led to a table where another man was already sitting. He was a middle aged man with grey hair in his neatly trimmed moustache and beard. He was a good-looking man in a black shirt and trousers and reminded her of Richard Mofe-Damijo. He stood up as Peter approached and shook his hand.
“It’s good to have you with us tonight, Peter,” the man said.
“Thank you, Sir Melaye. I’m grateful you could fit me in at such short notice.”
Peter didn’t introduce her as the men sat down. There wasn’t a chair for her to sit on and she assumed since some of the other naked women were kneeling, she could kneel too. It beat standing anyway, as she felt the stares from other people on her skin, making it prickle. Her nipples were like bullet tips already from the cool air. Her body went from hot to cold. Sweat beaded on the top of her lip and made her palms clammy.
“Down,” Peter said, pointing to a spot beside him.
She lowered herself to her knees. The floor was cold and hard. Shit. Not comfortable. She settled with her bum on her heel, taking the weight off her knees and getting a little comfortable.
How was she supposed to eat from this angle when the table top was barely below her head? More to the point, the mask didn’t have an opening for her mouth so she couldn’t eat without taking it off or at least lifting the bottom. That would mean holding it with one hand while eating with the other from a high angle.
The waiter turned up and took the order from Peter. He didn’t ask her what she was going to eat. She’d been told she couldn’t speak while she was out here unless someone asked her a direct question. No one asked her any questions.
The men carried on chatting as if she wasn’t there. She felt invisible, almost. The first course arrived on a platter. It smelled so nice that her stomach rumbled. Heat flushed her cheeks.
Peter held out a piece of fried shrimp. “Lift the bottom of the mask and eat from my hand.”
She felt a little uneasy about being fed as if she were a child or dog under the table. But she was naked in a room full of people. This was just one more thing. It looked like the only way she was going to eat and she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. The aroma of the spices and herbs made her mouth water. She forgot her unease.
She did as he instructed and he fed her from the platter. On the plus side, the food was delicious. Along with the garlic butter shrimps where avocado slices. For the main course, he fed her pieces of grilled fish and plantain. Occasionally, he’d let her sip from a glass of water.
Sometime during the meal, a space was cleared at the centre of the restaurant. Two men brought out what looked like a table but had bars up the sides and steps. It looked like a portable platform. They mounted it in the middle of the room.
A server brought a bowl for Peter to wash his hand. Then Madam Vivian arrived.
“It’s time,” she said.
“Thank you,” Peter said before he reached down and took the collar and leash off from Tessa’s neck. He placed the items on the table.
“The collar is off, which means you are now available for other interested men. Madam Vivian will take you to the auction block. Best of luck with whoever wins you tonight. I’ll see you in the morning for our trip back. Stand up.”
Seriously, this was going beyond a joke. She looked up at his face expecting to see a smile. There was none.
“Stand up, Tessa. Don’t keep Madam Vivian waiting,” Peter’s voice hardened.
The woman in question tapped her shoulder as she pushed off the solid floor. Her knees ached and she wasn’t sure she could walk properly. Luckily, the woman held her by the elbow and led her to the platform.
“Climb up,” Madam Vivian said.
Tessa glanced over at Peter expecting him to call the whole thing off any minute. But he was just looking at her just like every other person in the room was watching what was going on.
Tessa climbed the platform. Was he expecting her to beg him not to do this? Why should she? Yes, she’d done something wrong. But this as punishment was just silly, wasn’t it? How to punish a call girl? Well, pimp her out to your friends? This was a waste of time, wasn’t it? It only reinforced what she was.
He was the one who would miss out if another man bought her.
The woman strapped her to the bars, hands above her head on either side, ankles and thighs spread out and strapped too so she couldn’t move.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special specimen today. A newbie you haven’t tasted before. We have her in our midst for one night only. Will someone start the bidding at one thousand dollars?”
The table spun slowly so each person in the room could get a good view of her body, front and back.
One of the white men in a black t-shirt raised a white card.
“I have one thousand,” Madam Vivian announced.
“Two thousand,” someone Tessa couldn’t see shouted.
“Three thousand,” the white man countered.
“Four thousand,” a new voice bid. He was a man in jalabia.
Tessa heart started thumping hard in her chest. Even with the cold air, she was sweating, her palms turning clammy. This was actually happening. People were bidding for her. She was on sale, like cattle in the market place. Is this what her life had become? She had experienced a few bad things but this had to be on a new level of low.
When she went to the night club every weekend, was this what she did to herself? Did she put herself on a platform and invite people to bid on her?
Yes, it was the same thing. No wonder Peter saw her this way.
In the midst of it all she was hoping to hear Peter’s voice. Surely he was going to stop this madness.
Her stomach churned. Her chest tightened. Where was Anuli? She needed her. What would Anuli do? Her friend would tell her to keep her chin up. That these men didn’t mean a thing as long as they had each other.
But they didn’t have each other anymore. Things had changed between them. Peter had changed things.
Now she was alone. Without Anuli. Without Peter.
Shutting her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath to quell her panic. She’d survive this. The men didn’t mean anything. It didn’t matter who won the bidding. It was just sex. She’d done it many times before. She would do it many more times again.
“Sold!” Madam Vivian announced.
Tessa’s eyes flew open as she searched for the person who had bought her but she couldn’t see any raised cards at this angle. Then two men, the ones who had mounted the platform stood beside her, untying the straps. Disorientated and confused as she was led down the platform, she twisted her head trying to find Peter but she couldn't.
Where was he?
They led her back out of the restaurant.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, forgetting that she wasn’t supposed to talk.
“You’re being taken to your new master’s quarters,” the woman informed her.
“And who is that?” she asked again.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Now no more talking, girl.”
She clamped her mouth shut as a man opened the door to a suite that looked larger than the one she and Peter were stayi
ng in. The room was dimly lit with just one side lamp.
“Go on. Get on the bed. Abdul, secure her.”
The man lifted her onto the bed before she could do anything.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she stared from the woman to the man.
“We have to prepare you for your new master. You are a toy for his sexual pleasure.”
As Madam Vivian spoke, the man clapped leather cuffs to her limbs and strapped Tessa’s arms and legs to the four posters. She was stretched out across the bed. The man went to stand by the door while the woman opened a drawer. She pulled out a tube. She recognised it as containing lubricant. Was the person who bought her not going to bother with arousing her?
Madam Vivian pulled out another object. Tessa also recognised it. An anal plug.
“What do you need that for?” she asked as her heart rate increased again.
“He might want to fuck your ass. This will prepare you.” The woman poured gel over the plug and leaned over Tessa.
She tried to wriggle to prevent the plug from going in but she had no movement and the woman shoved the thing into her butt after a few attempts.
Tessa was panting heavily now. “Look. Whoever this person is. I don’t want them.”
“You cannot change your mind now. He paid a lot of money for you. Ten thousand American dollars. Four thousand of it is yours. You get it in the morning before you leave.”
She was getting four thousand dollars? Anuli would tell her to just relax and collect the money at the end of the day.
But she didn’t want the money.
The woman pulled out a blindfold and covered her eyes. She was plunged into darkness.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She didn’t want to be alone with a strange man. She wanted Peter.
“Please I don’t want the money,” she shouted. “I want Peter. Please find Peter. Tell him I don’t want the money. Tell him I’m sorry.”
She heard the door shut and the room plunged into silence.
“Aaaarrrggghhh,” she screamed in frustration. What was she going to do now? Would the man who had bought her let her go if she begged?
She tugged at the bonds again but nothing moved.
The door opened and someone walked in. She froze.
“You’re a pretty one,” the man said. She heard his footsteps as he moved across the room.
Shit. Was he the man in jalabia or the one she couldn’t see his face? She tried to place the voice.
If this man fucked her, Peter would hate her. He would think she wanted it to happen. She should’ve just begged him when he’d first mentioned the auction. She’d never thought he’d let it happen.
Now she was in deep shit.
Chapter Eighteen
Tessa kept perfectly still as she listened out and tried to figure out where the man stood in relation to the bed.
Something light touched her ribs just below the swell of her breast. She shivered.
Shit. He was close. Who was he? He wasn’t saying much. But she could feel the burn of his gaze on her skin.
Her heart thumped hard in her chest, blood whooshing loudly in her ears.
“Sir?” Her mouth was dry and she licked her lips.
“Yes, pretty one.” His accent was heavy but she couldn’t place it.
The object he was using stroked over her breast. The touch was so light, it felt like feathers. Her nipples tightened in response, her breasts grew heavy.
God, no. Her body was getting aroused. She’d expected the person to just take his clothes off and mount her, getting it over with soon. Instead, he was caressing her body with light feathery touches that were sending sensation all over her body.
Panting heavily, she panicked. “Sir. Please stop.”
He stilled, didn’t lift the object though. The tendrils stayed on her left nipple. “What is the matter?” he asked.
“I don’t want to do this. I’m sorry.”
“Why? You were on the block. I bid and won. I paid a lot of money for you.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll give you back the money. I don’t want it.”
“You will pay me the ten thousand dollars?”
Shit. She didn’t have ten thousand dollars. She swallowed again. “No sir. I only have four thousand dollars. I’ll give it to you.”
“That doesn’t help me, girl. Just relax. You might enjoy this.”
Warm wet mouth covered her nipple. A rough tongue flicked the hard tip. Electricity zipped straight to her clit. A moan ripped from her. Her cheeks burned.
She twisted, trying to get away. More of her breast entered his mouth just as his fingers parted her labia.
“Oh, you are such a slut. Look at how wet you are. You like men using your body.” The man stroked her intimately, circling her clit before dipping into her opening.
Her cheeks burned along with her body. Why was her body betraying her like this? She didn’t want to respond to this man. She didn’t want Peter to hate her.
“Get off me!” she snapped in an annoyed tone.
The man lifted his head from her breast. “Now you’re being rude and I won’t tolerate it.”
He moved away and she heard a drawer opening. Then she felt his heat beside her again.
“Open your mouth.” he said in a stern voice.
She refused and he grabbed her cheeks with his hand squeezing it together. She had no way of fighting him as her hands and legs were still tied up.
“Leave—”
Her words were cut off when he stiffed a ball gag into her mouth and looped it around her head. Now she couldn’t see, couldn’t talk, couldn’t move. She was naked and open, spread-eagled on a bed. This man would be able to do whatever he wanted with her body. She’d never felt so degraded in her life.
“Now. That’s what a slut should look like, ready and waiting to be used,” the man’s words reiterated her thoughts.
There was no one else to blame. She had done this to herself. She had reduced herself to a commodity to be bought and sold. A sex toy to be used again and again.
The man carried on with his ministrations. He touched her body anyway he wanted. She was ashamed to admit that her body responded as the man seemed to know what to do to make a woman respond. She was aroused but he didn’t let her have an orgasm.
He climbed and entered her, his cock thick and firm as he thrust in and out of her, groaning and grunting. When he came, warm sticky semen splattered all over her stomach.
He got off the bed and left her with his cooling semen on her skin and her body still aroused and uncompleted.
She heard the rustle of fabric. He must be putting his clothes on. Then she heard a phish sound that indicated he was sitting on the sofa. After a while she heard what sounded like soft snores.
He really was going to leave her like this. Hot and sticky, smelling of his cum and sweat, while bound, gagged and blindfolded. Never mind that her body was unfulfilled.
Peter, where are you? I’m so sorry. I will never disrespect you again.
He had been trying to save her from all this but she’d thought she knew better. She’d tried to call his bluff. But the joke was on her.
She wanted Peter. He’d told her there were good men and she hadn’t believed him. He was a good man and he had been trying to save her. To make her see that she was good and better than a call girl. She could do more with her life. She didn’t have to let men use her body.
From the first night she’d met Peter there had been the undeniable attraction between them. He had protected her and he hadn’t asked for anything in return. He had given her money but hadn’t asked for sex. He had cared for her and shown her a different side of life. A better side of life.
Before Saturday morning, she’d looked forward to talking to him every night on the phone and had been excited about seeing him again over the weekend. She hadn’t known the weekend will end up like this.
She should never have allowed Anuli to convince her to have sex.
She’d known it was wrong but she’d wanted to give Anuli one last time together. She’d made up her mind she wouldn’t have sex with her friend anymore.
If she hadn’t had sex with Anuli she wouldn’t be here right now tied to another man’s bed. Perhaps Peter would’ve been the one making love to her.
Making love. Yes, that’s what her and Peter would do. She had a feeling he’d felt very strongly for her. Just like she felt very strongly for him. It had taken for all this to happen before she realised she cared about Peter.
She didn’t want to hurt him. But she had been hurting him by going to the night club the other time. That was why he’d paid five million. And she had hurt him by having sex with Anuli. That’s why he’d devised this punishment.
Still she was hurting him now because she hadn’t begged him to stop the auction. She’d allowed her foolish pride to lead her astray. Now she didn’t know what to do but to take whatever this man dished out.
She drifted off to sleep, feeling low and dirty only to be woken up again in the night. This time her body didn’t respond so readily. She was going to gloat because her body was finally behaving.
He brought out something that buzzed and held it against her clit. A vibrator. So not fair.
He forced arousal onto her. Before long she was writhing and moaning for him. Just when she thought she would come, he stopped. Instead he came, warm semen splashing all over her chest. Then he left her panting again. She screamed in frustration although the sound was muffled by the gag.
This routine continued all night. He seemed to be waking her every other hour and repeating the same things. He appeared insatiable. And he didn’t let her orgasm even once.
She hated this man whoever he was.
He used her like a slave. A sex toy.
The mental and physical torture made her see the truth. Peter had been right about her all along.
“Wake up.”
Somebody shook her.
Tessa opened her eyes and blinked a few times at the sunlight in the room. The curtains were open. Her blindfold was off and so was the ball gag.
Madam Vivian stood beside the bed.
Tessa felt so groggy she wanted to curl up and go back to sleep. She moved her hands and legs and nothing restrained her. The straps had been untied.
