His For A Week_Bought

by EM BROWN

  The swim had made him hungry, and he ate everything she set down for him. She then brought plates over to the other women.

  “You sure are nice to your slut,” Derek said, taking a seat beside him.

  “If you want a sub to go all out for you, if you want them to push their limits, you’ve got to build trust.”

  “Hunh,” was Derek’s response to something he clearly didn’t understand.

  Jake returned to announce the boat was ready. “Now you ladies get ready. Remember, I told you no clothes on the boat.”

  Lisa raised her hand.

  “Put your fucking hand down. We’re not in school.”

  “Permission to speak, Master,” she requested.

  “What is it?”

  “What about swimsuits, like bikinis?”

  “I said no clothes. That means nada, zilch, nothing.”

  The women looked at each other.

  “So what are you waiting for?” Jake prodded.

  “I don’t mind skinny-dipping,” Ryan said as she pulled off her top.

  The others began to strip. Except for Kimani. Ben toyed with the idea of letting her out of Jake’s directive, but decided against it. A little discomfort wouldn’t hurt her. And he wanted to see how far she was willing to play.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Kimani wanted to throw up. Yesterday was bad enough. Now there were four guys. To be naked in front of them, leered at, objectified. It was debasing and humiliating.

  But that’s how Jake wants you to feel, so don’t give him the satisfaction.

  But how could she not? It didn’t seem as if Ben was coming to her rescue this time. He was watching her, gauging her.

  She pressed her lips together. “Question, Master.”

  “Yes.”

  “What if I don’t want to take off my clothes?”

  Jake answered for Ben. “Then you stay behind.”

  Ben’s silence confirmed the choice available to her. Staying behind wouldn’t help with her story. She’d come all this way to do a deep dive into the world of the Scarlet Auction. She shouldn’t let one asshole mess it up.

  That’s right, girl, own it.

  Squaring her shoulders, she decided that Jake could objectify her in his eyes, but he wouldn’t succeed in making her feel objectified. With or without clothes, she was beautiful and powerful. She was going to make the choice to be naked and proud.

  She whipped off her shirt before she changed her mind, then unzipped the dress and stepped out of it. The women were sizing each other up, probably noting whose boobs were less than perky or whose butt was too big, but Kimani stared right at Jake.

  He smirked before turning to Ben. “You ought to shave that bush of hers.”

  Ben, stone-faced, was about to step into Jake’s space, but Jason intervened. “Maybe we can make that a group activity later.”

  “I already took care of my slut,” Jake said, walking over to Claire and running his hand over her pubis. “Smooth as a baby.”

  “Come on,” said Derek. “I want to get out on the lake before the wind picks up and the waves get choppy.”

  The men led the way out of the cabin and down to the dock. Vince was putting a cooler onto the boat.

  “Where’s the Malibu?” asked Derek. “I hate the wakes from a pontoon.”

  “Can’t fit all of us on the Malibu, dipshit,” Jake answered as he hopped onto the boat.

  The boat before them was large enough to comfortably seat at least a dozen people, mostly in the front of the craft.

  “Sluts up front,” Jake ordered.

  The women settled themselves in the plush seating. Derek stayed behind the helm since he would be the first to ski.

  Though the scenery of blue water surrounded by redwood trees was gorgeous, and the weather was a typical California summer with a sunny and cloudless sky, Kimani found it hard to enjoy the environment. She was a little disappointed Ben hadn’t bailed her out, but she reminded herself that she was the lucky one of the bunch.

  “Nice nipple ring,” Jake said to Ryan, who seemed the most comfortable with her nudity. On her hip she had a tattoo of a heart and on her lower back she had a butterfly.

  He moved to stand in front of Lisa and assessed her petite breasts. “Not bad. I can dig small.”

  When he got to Kimani, she ignored the churning in her stomach and lifted her chin. Jake glanced over at Ben and decided not to say anything. He tossed Claire a bottle of sunblock.

  “You get to spread it on each other,” he explained. “Wouldn’t want you sluts getting sunburned.”

  Kimani made a silent groan. She often went without sunblock, especially the kind that didn’t absorb well and sat like white paste on her darker skin. Claire squeezed some sunblock on her hand, then passed it to Lisa.

  “I can do it,” she said to Claire.

  Jake gave her a wide grin. “Yeah, but you’re not gonna.”

  She looked to Ben, who had taken a seat opposite her. Was he going to let Jake dictate everything? She had gotten the sense that Ben didn’t care much for Jake.

  “Be a good pet,” he said.

  Her heartbeat stumbled. It was not the response she wanted. She allowed Claire to apply sunblock to her arms but fumed inside. She wasn’t as angry about having another woman touch her as she was with the fact that Ben was complicit with Jake and had called her a pet in front of everyone.

  Jake hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Jason sat down next to Ben to enjoy the view of Lisa rubbing sunblock all over Ryan.

  At first, Claire avoided the breast, pelvis, buttocks, and inner thighs.

  “Make sure you apply it everywhere,” Ben said.

  Kimani frowned in his direction but said nothing when Claire rubbed the sunblock on the parts she had passed up earlier. It was weird to have a practical stranger touching her private parts, but Kimani treated it as a clinical experience no different from her annual visit to the gynecologist.

  “Now return the favor,” Ben directed when Claire had finished.

  Getting some sunblock, Kimani took her turn. She didn’t rush through it, deciding she preferred applying sunblock to Claire over whatever else the men might have in store for them.

  “I get to even out my tan now,” Claire said to Kimani. “It’s like we’re on the French Riviera.”

  Kimani looked at her own arms to see the sunblock hadn’t seeped into the skin yet.

  “Come here,” Ben said. “I’ll rub it in for you.”

  She didn’t want to go over to him. She was miffed at him. He gave her a wordless look, and she suddenly felt like a petulant child.

  “I’d rather not discipline you in front of everyone,” he told her.

  She sucked in her breath. What happened to the nice guy from yesterday? And what kind of discipline did he intend? Not wanting to find out, she stepped toward him.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  He was fairly intuitive for a guy, but she wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge his better qualities. She replied, “You letting Jake be the alpha male now? He gets to dictate everything?”

  Be chuckled as if he found her statement to be adorable nonsense. Pulling her closer, he began massaging the sunblock into her skin. Unlike the soft and light touch of Claire’s hands, his were firm and hard.

  “What did you think you were getting into when you signed up for the Scarlet Auction?”

  She couldn’t think straight when his hands were on her buttocks. “I don’t know.”

  “You know how domination and submission works, right?”

  Now his hands were on her thighs, perilously close to where they had been the night before. “Sure.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “It’s a role-playing dynamic in which one person is in control and the other person submits to the one in control.”

  “And are you the sub?”

  She glanced to see if anyone saw that she was being felt up, but Claire was sunbathing while completely recli
ned on the sofa, Ryan was watching Derek ski, and Lisa and Jason were making out. Ben turned her around.

  “I suppose,” she answered.

  “The answer is yes. You are the sub. I am the Dom. So, like it or not, you do what I say. Unless you use your safety word.”

  Damn. She had forgotten she had a safety word. But would she have used it just now? Rubbing lotion on another woman or having it rubbed on her wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In fact, it was no big deal. What she didn’t like was that they were being ogled by the men while doing it.

  Ben’s hands were on her breasts now, his warm touch scattering her thoughts. She tried to rein them in.

  “Now, what happens when you don’t obey, when you’re a bad pet?” he continued.

  She searched his eyes but didn’t find any malice. Nevertheless, her mouth went dry. “I get disciplined.”

  “I don’t mind disciplining my subs, but I guarantee you’ll like it better when I reward rather than punish.”

  “What—what do you do when you discipline?”

  “That depends on the sub. Every woman is different. What’s effective for one isn’t necessarily motivating for another.”

  Putting a hand up to shield her face from the sun, she narrowed her eyes. Was he deliberating parroting back what she had pointed out to him last night?

  He removed the sunglasses he was wearing. “Here, take these and put them on.”

  “What for?”

  “Do you question everything? Just do it.”

  Putting on the glasses, she was glad not to have to squint in the sunlight anymore.

  “Jason, you want next?” Derek called when he reboarded the boat.

  Jason and Lisa were busy necking, so Ben climbed over to the back of the boat. Kimani watched him peel off his shirt and put on a water-ski vest. After strapping on the skis, he grabbed the handlebar and jumped in the water. She had never been up close to water-skiing and was mildly curious, but mostly she kept thinking about her situation with Ben. She should never have let it get this far. She should have played up being nervous or shy and seen how far his patience would last. Now that she had allowed him access to her body, his expectations had clearly changed.

  But how bad could being Ben’s sub be?

  “Nice shades,” Ryan complimented. “Can I try them?”

  Kimani handed them over.

  “They’re Louis Vuitton,” Ryan cooed. “You’re not impressed?”

  Kimani shrugged. “They’re sunglasses.”

  Shaking her head, Ryan handed her back the glasses. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a weird-ass chick.”

  “Why am I supposed to be impressed? So he can afford designer shades. Is he a better human being ’cause he’s rich?”

  “Uh, yeah. Money is power. It’s the human equivalent of the stronger animal, the stag with the bigger horns, the peacock with the best feathers. And for us women, it’s in our DNA to want the strongest, most powerful male. It’s Mother Nature and evolution.”

  “But humans aren’t just animals. We’re evolved and enlightened. Frankly, I’d be more impressed with a guy who spends two years building water wells in Africa and helping people than a guy who can drop a thousand dollars on a pair of shoes and likes to make women feel like objects.”

  “Oh, honey, you sound like one of those feminist bitches who desperately need to get laid.”

  Kimani did a double take. “A feminist bitch?”

  “Yeah, I can’t stand feminists. They’re always trying to make the rest of us feel bad.”

  Kimani was about to declare herself a feminist, but she had already talked too much. It wasn’t the job of a journalist to voice her own opinions. In fact, doing so could dampen a subject from speaking openly.

  She inquired, “So you’re comfortable being paraded around naked?”

  Ryan leaned back into the seating. “Sure. Women—not the cranky feminists, of course—don’t mind being an object. It’s sexy. Given the chance to pose naked for Sports Illustrated, we’d all do it. We want men lusting after our hot bods—unless you’re a lesbo or a feminist. Basically they’re one and the same.”

  “You’re not bothered if men see us as objects instead of human beings with intellect, charisma, and heart?”

  “That stuff’s not real. If you believe all a guy cares about is your brains and personality, don’t be surprised when you find out he’s banging the slutty office intern.” Ryan looked her over. “You’ve got a nice body. Flaunt it. Enjoy what you’ve been born with.”

  Ryan had spouted off some great quotes, and Kimani desperately wished she had brought one of her recording pens.

  “Hey, your Master’s back,” Ryan said. “If he’s into threesomes, let me know.”

  With a wink, Ryan went back to her previous seat.

  Kimani watched Ben climb back into the boat, remove the ski vest and shake the water from his hair. He looked good wet.

  Get a grip, Kimani.

  Switching places, Derek took the driver’s seat and Jake put on his ski vest. Ben headed in her direction.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The water was still cool on his skin, helping to dampen the hard-on that threatened when he saw Kimani naked. He had enjoyed rubbing the sunblock all over her. Her arms, legs and back had felt almost as good as her ass and tits. She looked healthy yet supple. Womanly. Perfect.

  “You want a turn?” he asked when he reached her.

  “Turn?” she replied.

  “Skiing.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “I can teach you.”

  She thought for a minute, then shook her head. “Maybe another time. When I have a swimsuit on.”

  “There’s no one else out on the lake.”

  “Still.”

  He didn’t push it and instead opened the cooler.

  “I was wondering where the drinks were,” Jason said.

  Before tossing him a bottle of ale, Ben opened and handed bottles to all the women except for Kimani. Lisa yelped loudly when Jason ran the cold bottle over her belly.

  “Let me guess—you want water,” Ben said to Kimani.

  She nodded. He grabbed two bottles of water, one for her, one for himself. She took the bottle, then raised her hand.

  “Mind if I ask you something?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Do I have to ask permission to talk every time?”

  He laughed. “That’s your question?”

  “Just need to know the ground rules.”

  Sitting down, he finished off half his bottle before replying, “No. That would get tedious.”

  “Do I have to call you Master all the time?”

  It would be easier for her sake to set some consistent rules, but he didn’t like sweating the small stuff.

  “The more the merrier,” he said, “but I’m not going to require you to do it every time. I’ll let you know if that changes.”

  “Would you like your sunglasses back?”

  “Keep them for now. They look good on you.”

  “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to them. They seem like expensive glasses.”

  “They’re just sunglasses. It’s not like I can’t get another pair.”

  “I’m so bad with sunglasses—losing them and scratching them up—that I only bother buying cheap ones. Once in a while I’ll splurge and get a pair from Nordstrom Rack. Anyway, fair warning: your shades aren’t safe with me.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  She seemed to understand that his statement referred to more than sunglasses. After a brief awkward silence, she tossed her hair over her shoulders. He imagined sinking a fist into those curls and pulling her head back to expose her throat. Though he tried not to fix on her naked body, the tension in his groin was still tightening.

  “So,” she began, “you get off on making women display themselves as objects?”

  She was trying to sound nonchalant and curious, but he detected an edge to her question. He pas
sed his tongue over his lower lip as he contemplated how best to answer.

  “I get off on seeing naked women. Given I’m not gay, there’d be something seriously wrong with me if I didn’t. Don’t you get off on seeing a guy naked?”

  “Depends on the guy.”

  “Idris Elba.”

  “Well, sure. There’d be something seriously wrong with me if I didn’t.”

  She was parroting his words back on purpose, as he had done to her.

  “Then what’s the problem, other than the fact that I’m not Idris Elba?”

  She blinked several times—then laughed, a genuine non-nervous laugh. He liked it.

  “No, you’re not,” she acknowledged, “but I guess it doesn’t matter for you.”

  “That’s right. Because when I want, I’ll make you forget all about Idris fucking Elba.”

  Her mouth was agape in that sexy way again, a little dumbfounded but not dumb.

  “I don’t think Idris Elba would make women sit around naked just for kicks.”

  “How do you know? Men aren’t that complicated.”

  “Some men have evolved beyond caveman thinking—or lack thereof.”

  “A lot of women like cavemen.”

  “That’s because they’re not enlightened.”

  He raised his brows.

  “I mean, maybe they don’t know any better. No modern woman in her right mind wants a caveman who will club her over the head and drag her into his cave by her hair.”

  “You so sure about that?”

  She glanced over at the other women. “I guess I shouldn’t make generalizations, but for me and my friends, we’re not looking for a lunkhead with big biceps whose penis is bigger than his brain. Maybe for men, it doesn’t matter so much if the woman is a bimbo, as long as she’ll suck his cock for him.”

  He pulled her toward him and pinned her with his gaze. “You don’t think I can get cock-sucking bimbos for a lot less than two hundred thousand?”

  Lowering her lashes, she avoided his look, murmuring, “I’m sure you can get cock-sucking bimbos for nothing.”