Sold at the Auction

by Cassandra Dee

“And Madame, you are?” he asked courteously, pen ready.

  “I’m the girl Mr. Black bought at auction,” I said firmly. “He bought me last night.”

  The pen paused for a moment, but Jeeves didn’t bat an eye, his expression smooth. Secretly, I wondered how much he was paid for his discretion and professionalism.

  “I see, thank you, Madame. Now, how can we make your experience better?” he asked brightly like nothing was wrong.

  “Well, are you asking about the basketball game or my auction experience?”

  Jeeves paused again, lips pursed thoughtfully.

  “I was supposed to get information about your experience at Madison Square Garden, but I’d be happy to listen to your experience with the auction, Madame,” he said politely. “Of course, I will transmit it to management.”

  And I took a deep breath, glancing at Troy. Because I wanted him to hear what had happened, how I’d been abducted, lured to the compound thinking I was there for a party and then bound and gagged. That wasn’t the way the Club operated was it? It seemed crazy, like they were full-on criminals just waiting to be hit by the Department of Justice, the FBI, whoever prosecuted this kind of thing.

  So I pushed forward.

  “My friend Rachel and I, we thought we were going to a party,” I began slowly. “We met these guys at our hotel earlier, sitting out by the pool and they seemed okay. So when they invited us to a private party later that night, we said yes.”

  Jeeves nodded.

  “Name?” he queried.

  “Miles,” I said. “I don’t know his last name and feel dumb for not knowing, but his name was Miles and he had two friends. I can’t remember their names now, but they seemed normal, said they were from Sacramento, here for a buddy’s birthday.”

  Jeeves nodded, not commenting.

  “Then what happened, Madame?”

  And I took a deep breath.

  “We ubered to the compound. As soon as we pulled up to the curb, I knew something was wrong because there was no club, no lights, no nothing. But Miles and his buddies were there, and my friend Rachel kind of had a crush on Miles, so she was out of the car in a flash, going to talk with him. But that’s where it went from bad to worse. Because Miles and his buddies led us into a dilapidated warehouse and abducted us. I mean, bound and gagged us, like we were animals, tying us up like cattle.”

  I heard a low rumble then. Sure enough, Troy, listening to this story was growling like an angry lion about to pounce. His arms were folded across his massive chest, brows drawn, expression dark as he listened.

  “That fucker Miles,” he rasped. “He’s gonna pay.”

  And I nodded.

  “Miles straight up kidnapped us and in fact, gave something to Rachel to drink which knocked her out. Did I mention that already? Is she okay? She was out like a light, hardly breathing, her eyes rolled up in the back of her head,” I said urgently. “Do you know if she’s okay?”

  Jeeves shook his head.

  “Ma’am, I apologize but I’m not in a position to know,” he replied politely. “Please continue with your story.”

  I paused. Of course, even if Jeeves knew, he wouldn’t tell me, not with one of his employers sitting in the room with us. But I wanted all the sordid details out so that the Club knew exactly what I’d gone through, how I’d been treated.

  “And then,” I said slowly. “They brought me to a room where I watched another girl being auctioned. She had red hair and a blindfold on. She was beautiful … and she was sold for fifty thousand dollars,” I said quietly.

  Jeeves nodded.

  “An estimable sum,” he rumbled. “What next?”

  “Miles grabbed me,” I shrugged. “He dressed me into a cloak and I was put up for auction. And you know what happened then,” I turned to Troy with a slow look. “You were there.”

  He grunted.

  “So Miles told you nothing about what to expect? He didn’t have you sign a consent form, take blood test, check your ID?”

  I snorted, unbelieving.

  “No of course not. He didn’t even know my full name, much less run the background check you’re hinting at. Why, was he supposed to?”

  Troy took a deep breath.

  “All of our girls are prepped beforehand,” he said, voice tight, blue eyes penetrating. “Our operation is legal baby girl. In certain parts of Nevada, what’s happening is totally legal and a lot of girls want in,” he said slowly. “It’s a lot of money and so long as the females pass our vetting process, then we pass no judgment.”

  I paused for a moment.

  “But why didn’t I get put through the vetting process?”

  The big man shrugged his shoulders.

  “I dunno honey, but I’m gonna find out. What happened to you is fucking despicable, that fucker Miles is gonna get his headed pounded in. But,” he said, his voice lowering once more. “Like I said, the Club doesn’t have to hunt girls. Quite the opposite, the girls come to us. It’s the allure of a lifestyle, of a chunk of change, of an unforgettable week filled with sensuous play. In fact, a lot of girls ask to be auctioned again after their initial experience.”

  I gasped, cheeks coloring.

  “Really? There are women who go on for second and third times?”

  Troy nodded, blue eyes dark.

  “Sure, for a million bucks a pop, who wouldn’t want two or three bites of the apple?”

  I scrunched my brow, thinking.

  “How many times can a girl be auctioned? Are there girls who’ve been gone up on the block six, seven, ten times?” I choked. This was starting to sound really sordid if a girl was shared by multiple men. Even if she got paid seven figures, still, pulling a train wasn’t my idea of sexy. But then again, different strokes for different folks and Troy merely shrugged again.

  “Honey, there’s no limit on the number of times a girl can be sold, so long as the Club determines she’s still saleable.”

  I scrunched my brow. “Saleable? What does that mean?”

  The big man let out a huge sigh. “Means that she’s gonna get a good price, she’s not giving herself up for a song, that someone’s gonna appreciate the woman, treat her well for a week, take care of her body. If the goods aren’t up to snuff, than the Club will write her a nice check and put her in a car.”

  I quivered like a hummingbird, letting it sink in.

  “But why wasn’t I put through the vetting procedure?” I asked again plaintively. “What the hell happened with me and Rachel? I thought you guys would have fail-safes to make sure everything was kosher, going in accordance with plan.”

  And Troy’s eyebrows beetled again, expression ominous.

  “That’s it exactly,” he rasped. “This was a fucking hole in our procedures and it needs to be addressed. Martin,” he commanded. “Please make an appointment with the board so that these deficiencies can be remedied.”

  And the butler nodded, scribbling away.

  “Certainly sir,” he said in a clipped tone. “Be happy to. Would you like the lady to be present at the meeting?”

  And I shivered, eyes going wide. They wanted me to come to a club meeting to share my experience, testify like I was on the stand?

  But Troy shook his head.

  “Naw, no need to drag Ellie into this more, it’s fucking fucked up and there’s gonna be blood on the ground to say the least. Let’s spare her the sight.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Because on the one hand, I was curious. Who were these powerful men, shadowy, discreet billionaires who bought and sold girls in a private club setting? Who had the connections, the deep pockets to indulge and fund such a venture? But on the other, my sense of self-preservation warned me away because danger loomed. These were dangerous, dominant alphas used to getting what they wanted and I couldn’t take on a pack of them. Hell, I could barely handle Troy, the way he took charge of every situation, of my body, my wants, needs and desires, how in the world could I deal with twelve, fifteen, twenty Troys?

&nbs
p; But the moment passed and Jeeves snapped his notebook shut, standing up with the stiff elegance of a butler.

  “Anything else I can get you sir? Madame?” he asked, bowing from the waist again.

  I shook my head while Troy growled, “Naw, that’s all.”

  And with a click of his heels, Jeeves was gone once more, tails flying, stiff lip held high.

  I giggled a little after he departed, once the door swung shut. “He’s quite a character,” I said wryly.

  Troy chuckled.

  “Yeah, he’s actually the Club’s first employee, our longest-lasting steward. We’ve got quite a couple of good people working for us, it’s the only way this place could operate, but Martin is one of the best, mannered and subtle, yet nosy when he has to be,” Troy said with a grunt. “He knew something had gone down with the auction, and was here to find out. The basketball game was just a pretense, he was here to talk to you.”

  My mouth opened, surprised.

  “Me, really? I thought he wanted to get your feedback on the box,” I croaked.

  Troy shook his head.

  “Naw, that was just a cover so you wouldn’t feel intimidated. Martin is good honey,” he said wryly. “As is the Club.”

  And I paused, thinking. The butler had been so skilled, carefully drawing out my story, making me think that I was in charge so that I felt comfortable recounting my experience. And it’d all been carefully planned, designed almost, waiting until the time was right, until I was safely under Troy’s care. But I shook my head again. My story was out there now and what was important was getting results.

  “So there are fail-safes, double checks to make sure everything goes as planned, right?” I asked again, my voice low. “They just didn’t work in my case for some reason.”

  And Troy sighed, hauling me into his arms, pressing his lips to my ear.

  “Honey, I have no idea what the fuck happened the night you were sold, how protocol was breached so thoroughly. But I promise I’m gonna find out,” he said, leaning away for a moment to look deep in my eyes, blue eyes serious, big hands warm on my shoulders. “I promise, okay? I want this to be good for you, for you to enjoy yourself, have a good time.”

  And a feeling of safety, of warm contentment, seeped into my soul. Because despite the fact that Mr. Black was my captor, he made me feel protected, like I could relax in his arms, let go and not worry. I was like a hothouse flower, a beautiful orchid tended to in the warmth of a greenhouse, attention lavished on my form, treasured, petted, thoroughly fed and watered, making me rosy, bloom in adoration and love. What had happened to me was shocking, sure, but it was feeling less and less like an abduction. In fact, I was positively basking in the attention, the cooking, the eating, the basketball game, and most of all, my time getting to know the big man, learn more about him. So I wound my arms around his neck, pulling him close once more.

  “Mr. Black,” I murmured against his lips. “Do you want to watch more basketball, or do you want to …?” I smiled at him, lips quirking gently as I pressed my bosom against his hard chest.

  And the feel of my soft girls, luscious and warm, the sensation of my sinuous female body twining around him, made the big man groan, his cock popping to attention, grinding against my soft belly.

  “Honey,” he rasped, “I want all of you,” he ground out before capturing my mouth with his own, seizing my lips in a kiss so persuasive, so thorough, that my heart hammered, bones melting in his embrace. Because somehow I’d surrendered, somehow this man had climbed all the walls, fought all the dragons, and I was putty in his grasp, absolutely his. And the worst part? I wanted it … I wanted Troy Black, mind, body and soul, all of him, forever.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Troy

  A week later …

  She was fucking gorgeous, curls spilling about her shoulders as she perched in my lap, her sweet, soft form, so curvy, so delectable.

  “Guess this is all huh?” she mewled sweetly, giving me once last peck on the lips. Because I’d fucked her good this past week, taken that sweet little body so many times that Ellie was innocent no more, not by a long shot. I’d bent her over, pulled her knees up, practically made her do the splits while pummeling her back hole, the brunette coming again and again, breathless sighs of ecstasy ringing out as her body was violated by my dick, taking the massive shaft in her deepest recesses.

  And yeah, I’d stuck to anal, there was no pussy sex. I’m an ass man because it’s so fucking dirty and I love seeing a girl taking a huge dick up her back end. It’s partly the graphic nature. I love having a woman lay on her back, knees pulled up to her chest, baring everything to me, hips canted up as I run my huge cock up her anus. It’s forceful, it often pushes her across the bed, but the sight is such a turn-on, always makes me so hard, jizzing gallons of semen in her ass.

  So yeah, I’m a sick mofo, I’ve never pretended to be otherwise and Ellie’s ass is good and used now, she limped around for a few days sure, but recovered quickly, bouncing back to normal being eighteen, flexible and nubile. And I’m happy to say that she’s able to take my dick without too much trouble now, I don’t have to screw myself in with quite as much effort, her ring relaxes faster, she’s got the breathing down, often pulling her nips to help ass relax as I drill her.

  And shit, I’m letting it all walk away. Can you believe it? After a week with the gorgeous brunette, Ellie was on my lap now, exchanging a last kiss before she walked out the door, into a black car and out of my life. I’m not sure why I’m letting her do it. It’s almost like I have a conscience, which I don’t.

  But the girl deserves better than this. The brunette made it clear multiple times that she wasn’t here of her own free will. Unlike our usual females, my beautiful captive was full-on kidnapped, hands bound behind her back, tied and trussed up for auction. What the fuck? It was so fucking wrong, and I still had the board meeting where we’d deal out some punishment. But the more important thing was that Ellie had made it clear that this started illicitly, that although she grew to love my loving, to pull her ass open for me whenever I wanted, that it hadn’t started out fair and square. She’d been abducted and I couldn’t keep a girl like that bound to me, no matter how much she got paid.

  So I was letting her go. I was letting Ellie walk away, without any strings, without any dumb shit like “I’ll call you” or “Come and see me again.” This interlude had begun on the wrong foot, and I wanted to make it right for her now.

  So I kissed the brunette with all of my pent-up feelings, taking her mouth, parting her lips with my tongue, delving deep, big hands roaming all over her sweet tits, bouncing the huge breasts in my hands, one palm moving down between her skirt to caress lightly at her thighs, running over that sweet pussy once more. And fuck, it was wet, she was creaming, gushing from our embrace, our last kiss.

  But I couldn’t take her because it was time to go and slowly, I picked her up, swinging her into my arms. It was almost like I was gonna mount the stairs, take her to my bedroom and ravish that curvy form once more, love her again, giving her my sweet cum to drink, branding her with my body. But instead, I strode to the front door and swung it open, the town car already waiting outside. And with a few swift steps, I deposited her into the back seat, giving her one last kiss, feeling her sweet breath against my lips as she leaned backwards, relaxing into the supple leather.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Black,” she murmured, stroking my face one last time, small fingers warm and caressing. “Goodbye.”

  And I stood back, blue eyes blazing, even as I shut the door.

  “Goodbye Ellie Danes,” I rumbled, staring at her through the window as the car pulled away. It shouldn’t have hurt, my heart should have felt light. I was ridding myself of a girl, that was the whole reason I’d gone to the auction in the first place. Because fuck yeah, that’s why guys take part in the sale, why the Club provides the service. We don’t want the hassle of a dating, much less a long-term relationship, so we’ve established a situation where you
get a sensuous week with a beautiful girl before saying goodbye, no strings, no attachments, no nothing. And she knows going into it as well, knows full well that there’s no potential for anything in the future, so there are no hurt feelings, no endless whining, begging or pleading, 24/7 texts and emails from a spoiled, entitled female.

  But Ellie was none of that. There was no one more innocent, more sensuous, who wanted nothing from me. She’d tried to return some of the expensive clothes I bought her when she realized how much they cost.

  “What are you doing?” I asked when I caught her stuffing some cocktail dresses into a plain brown paper bag. And she bit her lip, cheeks flushing.

  “I know what it looks like,” she said slowly. “I know this looks shady.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. Shady? What, was she going to get cash in the transaction, make a few bucks on the side? So I growled menacingly.

  “They’re not gonna let you exchange the clothes for cash. They’re not even gonna give you store credit, baby girl,” I said threateningly. “All the money goes straight back to my credit card, so you can take those clothes out of the bag.”

  But Ellie bit her lip, flushing.

  “No, it’s not that,” she said slowly. “I thought maybe if I returned the clothes we could make a donation to a woman’s shelter instead. The amount you paid for these, Troy, it’s crazy,” she said, fingering a price tag. “And the money could help someone in need.”

  I was stock still. I’ve never heard of a woman returning a gift to make a donation, to give to the poor. Most of the women I met were hoarding cash, trying to make a buck the best they could. But this girl was different. She looked at me still, biting her lip, contemplative.

  “Troy, would you consider it?” she asked quietly, eyes cast down, the arcs of her lashes on her cheeks. “Would you consider making a donation regardless? I’d be happy to keep the dresses, return them, whatever you like,” she said quickly. “It’s just that there are women in need, and I have so much now.”

  And again, I was thunderstruck. Ellie’s generosity, her giving nature, her consideration of others, her penchant for giving the clothes off her back to the poverty-stricken made my heart burst, my throat tighten. What had I done to deserve someone like this, a woman so amazing, so thoughtful, kind, caring and sexy? I loved her, I loved the fact that she put others before herself, that someone else’s needs, heck, even the needs of nameless, faceless women took precedence, that she was willing to go the extra five miles to improve someone else’s life.