The Auction

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The Auction Page 5

by J. R. Gray


  “Do you think I should sit in the lobby just in case?”

  “Nope. I have to handle this myself.”

  “Good answer.”

  Matt couldn’t have even gotten halfway down the hall before there was a knock on the door. She was early.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Scotty left the place where she’d been sitting in the lobby for the last thirty minutes at fifteen ’til, tucking her book into her bag. Her propensity for lateness wasn’t going to affect her this time. She was determined to give this a real shot. She passed a man outside Stark’s apartment. He slipped into the elevator as she left. She could have sworn he winked at her, but maybe she was imagining things.

  She used the knocker on Stark’s door and waited.

  He answered in jeans and a button down. Scotty relaxed. She didn’t want him to answer in a suit. It wasn’t him. She’d never wanted a Dom who was trying to fill a role. She wanted someone down to earth who also happened to be Dominant.

  “Hey,” she said as he stood back to allow her to slip past inside.

  “Good evening.” He closed the door before turning on her.

  “How are you?”

  “Pretty good. Would you like some tea?”

  “Sure…” Not exactly how she expected the night to go. She followed him deeper into his apartment and was surprised. She thought he did something with computers, but his lifestyle afforded a lot more than what she expected his salary would. Maybe he had family money.

  Not a thing was out of place, and as Stark walked, he turned a vase full of fresh flowers, straightening it. His kitchen was all white and gray. Nothing whatsoever was kept on the counters, showing off the Corian flecked with purple. It looked spectacular. A genuine kettle sat atop the stove, and Stark flicked it on.

  “I would have had the water going, but I didn’t expect you to be this early.” He opened a wooden box to reveal an assortment of tea, letting her choose one. Next he set milk and sugar out next to the two cups already situated on the coffee table in the sitting room off the kitchen.

  “I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Scotty took the hint and took a seat there.

  “You’ve done marvelously, kitten.”

  Scotty straightened up in her seat a little more. “Thank you.” She was proud of herself for proving him wrong.

  He lifted the kettle off the stove when it started to whistle, bringing it over to fill her cup and then his. “I’m guessing this isn’t what you expected.”

  “No, not at all.” She added her tea bag and some sugar to keep her hands busy. This was as nerve-wrecking as submitting. She had no idea what she’d done wrong. She still wore the overcoat with what he’d instructed underneath.

  “We have a few things to discuss.”

  He set a sheet of paper on the table. “Safe word?”

  She clutched her cup with both hands like it could steady her. She did take solace in the heat soaking into her hands. “I need a new one.”

  “Right, nothing to remind you of past things.”

  “Sky.”

  “Perfect.” He set down his pen with the paper then sat back completely focused on her. “Now to other things.”

  “Which are?”

  “I’m not going to run through a limits sheet since I got the one you submitted to the auction.”

  “I did?”

  He raised his brows, picking the sheet off the table to hold out to her. She glanced over it. It was the one she’d filled out years ago for Cheri, before Tanya even.

  “Is this yours?”

  “Yes.” She drew in a breath, wanting to cover herself with her arms.

  “Has anything changed?” he set it back down.

  “No…” Don’t close up, she pleaded silently with herself.

  “Good. I want to talk about my history.”

  She relaxed. This wasn’t about her. “Okay.”

  “I stopped domming after my wife died. It’s been a long time. Really, I stopped doing much of anything except working.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s been five years, and I won’t lie and say I’m completely over it.”

  Scotty pulled back inside herself. All the good Dominants were taken or married—or still in love with their dead exes.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” She looked up when he slid a finger under her chin.

  “Close off.”

  “It’s hard not to when my ex cheated on me with and then left me for someone she claimed to still be in love with.”

  “Yeah, that’s a pattern with her. I’m actually surprised you haven’t taken her back.”

  “I was in love, not stupid. You don’t go back to someone who cheated and let you find out like that.”

  A crease formed in his forehead. “Find out like what?”

  “She, her new—whatever— walked in on a scene we were doing and told me.”

  “A scene.”

  “I was tied up and could not leave.”

  He drew in a sharp breath. “Did you safe out?”

  “Of course, but shibari doesn’t exactly come off easily and she was begging me to stay the entire time.” Tears welled up in her eyes. She was right back there. Fuck, she hated that Tanya could do this still. “She wouldn’t let me leave until we talked about it.” Her voice broke, and she brought an arm up to cover her face. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

  “I won’t stop you, but please don’t.”

  “You don’t need to see this.”

  “You may be a mess, but so am I.”

  She looked up at him. “You’re not a mess.”

  “I can’t forgive my wife for dying and taking away everything we had. I’ve let it consume me. I’ve been thinking, we have a choice to make here and now, we can continue down this path. If we do, we are both going to lose part of ourselves. I’m not saying we are going to end up together, with some fairytale happily ever after, but if we don’t do this now we never will. And I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell don’t want to let them take this away from us.”

  Scotty wiped her eyes. She was terrified of having another panic attack, but he was right. “How did you get so much insight?”

  “I am a psychiatrist.”

  “I thought you worked with computers?”

  “Some of my sessions are online, but I also have also an office here.”

  Scotty set down her cup. “Anything to do with play has brought me back there since. I already had an issue with panic attacks before and well, she made it worse.”

  “I could tell.”

  “How?” She really wondered how he read her so well. If he saw her, or if it was part of the job. Maybe he was just good at reading people after so many years of doing it.

  “Because I have them, too.”

  She felt his words more than heard them. Scotty found where a lot of people sympathized with her plight, not many understood it. How could they? To feel like you’re dying for no other reason than something she knew was an irrational fear. She felt like a complete idiot even thinking about it.

  “You should think about this. I need it. I have to break away from my own pain.” He laid a hand over hers.

  “I don’t need to think about it,” she said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What are you saying?” he asked.

  “Do you think I would have come here in just this coat had I not wanted to do this?”

  “I’d hoped, but I wanted to be sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Can I take your coat?” He got to his feet and held out a hand for it.

  She stood slowly, undoing all of the buttons until it fell open, exposing the lacy boy shorts and matching bra she wore. Both were dark purple. She’d never liked black.

  Stark swallowed visibly as he took the coat from her and laid it over the back of a chair. “You listen well.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

  “You might have had reservations about tonight.” He br
ought his cup to his lips and took a small sip. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you.” Her mouth was dry, but she forced herself to keep talking. “What do you prefer to be called?”

  “Sir works perfectly well.”

  “Where would you like me…Sir?”

  “Have a seat and finish your tea.”

  She sat back on the edge of the cushion, dropping her eyes to her cup. “It’s a little weird sitting here drinking tea in my knickers…” she trailed off. She wasn’t even sure where she was going with that.

  His gaze never left her, and she started to heat up. She knew her cheeks were red.

  “I’m sure you’ll get used to it.” He sat back on the seat next to her.

  “Used to it?”

  “I don’t plan on letting you up for a while.”

  “Oh?” She squirmed, feeling so very exposed.

  “You were the one who said you enjoy humiliation.” He crossed his ankle over knee. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions and issue commands, while you serve us tea, and if you choose not to reply or do one of them I’ll be collecting one of the two you have left.”

  She shivered. “Yes, Sir.”

  “On your knees and make me another cup.”

  It was easy to snap back into the submissive mindset. She lifted the kettle and refilled his mug. She’d watched how much sugar he’d placed in his cup, making it exactly the way he had.

  “Very good. I’m surprised you paid so much attention.” He brought it to his lips, but he paused. “What’s the one fantasy you’ve been too ashamed to tell anyone before?”

  She froze.

  “I know you thought of something. I saw it in your eyes. Remember you only have two pieces of clothing.”

  She dropped her eyes to the floor. “I sometimes think of being shared.”

  He was visibly hard, and she hoped it was because of her words. “Go on.”

  “Sh— my last Dominant was too jealous to share. But I’ve thought of watching someone else touch—you—while I’m being fucked, for your pleasure, of course.”

  “Of course.” He pressed his hand into his groin, making no move to hide his gesture. “And if I had you serve tea naked for a few guests of mine, how would you feel about that?”

  Her cheeks were bright red now, she was certain, but she was also soaking wet.

  “My question requires an answer.”

  She was having trouble forcing the words out of her mouth. Who wanted to be put on display like that? But she did. She loved the idea of being owned by him and letting him choose who saw her.

  “Hand over your bra.”

  She’d been so lost in the idea she hadn’t realized she didn’t answer. She started to reach behind herself, but he shook his head.

  “Stand up and do it. I want to see.” He was stroking himself through his jeans now.

  She stood in front of him and reached behind herself, unhooking the clasp and letting it fall down her arms and into his lap. He licked his lips, not taking his eyes off her breasts.

  “Touch yourself.”

  She placed a hand on her breast and massaged over her taut nipple.

  “Not there.”

  Her thighs clenched together.

  “You’re losing the panties or touching yourself. The choice is yours.”

  Beet red, she lowered her hand to the lace between her legs and brushed over her lips. It was pure ecstasy to get even the slightest bit of contact. She could get off if he breathed on her right, she suspected.

  “Good little kitten.” He sat forward, bringing his face within inches of her.

  “Is that how you touch yourself when you’re alone?”

  She shook her head.

  “Say it.”

  “No.”

  “How do you do it when you’re alone?”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I spread myself open and rub over my clit.”

  “Show me.”

  With shaking hands, she pushed aside her panties and used one hand to spread herself while the other sought her own wetness to use. A pit formed in her stomach. No one had ever made her put on such a show. Not so open and exposed. And she’d never been more turned on in her life.

  He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh and brushed his lips over her fingers as they worked. She shivered and closed her eyes. His tongue circled around her clit and she moved her hand to give him access.

  “Don’t stop,” he ordered.

  She returned to what she’d been doing as he lifted her thigh, placing her foot on the edge of the sofa, opening her even more. He licked inside her, and she thought her legs were going to collapse. He trailed his kisses back up to her core, this time moving her hand himself. He held it tight in his larger hand like he was afraid she’d bolt. She had no intention of moving a muscle.

  “Stark,” she breathed. She was going to lose it if he didn’t let up.

  “Not yet,” he murmured into her.

  “I can’t.” She couldn’t stop it. Her body shook, and no matter how hard she fought it, it took her. Her insides started to clench, and she lost herself to his tongue. Even if she never got off again in her life, she could die happy with memories of his tongue on her, in her.

  He pulled back and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Panties off. I told you not to come.”

  She slid them off, a slight frown forming on her face. She didn’t know him well enough to know if she’d truly disappointed him. She’d always been terrible about orgasm control. Not everyone could hold it for hours on end like some literature would suggest.

  “I’m sorry…”

  “No need for apologies, now I have an excuse to spank you.” His grin gave him away. It had been a set up. One she wasn’t at all upset about. She wanted him to spank her just as much as she wanted another orgasm from him

  She did as she was asked, sliding her panties down to her heels before setting them next to him with her bra. She turned to wiggle her ass in his face, because she wasn’t going to let him just get away with forcing her to orgasm, getting what he wanted.

  He grabbed her ass with both hands and bit down. She gasped. Pain spread through her cheek and she loved it. She’d missed it, and she hadn’t even realized how much.

  He spun her and pulled her down to his lap. “I’m not going to go gentle.” He didn’t give her even a second before his hand came down on her bottom. He smacked it over and over. The sting spread, and tears welled in her eyes. She had to focus and breathe through it like she’d been taught. It hurt. There was no way around it, but it also made her even more turned on.

  His hand fell away, and she breathed. She’d been too startled to panic, which was good.

  “Up, let me see my work.”

  She climbed off of him, every movement pulling at her flaming skin. She took her time, turning, feeling his eyes on him, wanting her. It was the best feeling in the world. He grabbed her ass, spreading her, letting his fingers brush over her asshole.

  “I’m going to fuck you here one day. And I’m going to let everyone watch, so they know what a good whore you are.”

  She squirmed, pressing back into his touch.

  “Bend over the table.”

  “You eat there.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  She rolled her eyes, earning herself another smack to her already sore bottom.

  “You really want me spread out over your table?”

  “I can’t believe you’re questioning me.”

  She walked to the table and found he’d already had ropes and cuffs set up there. “You were prepared.” Her heart skipped at least two beats. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.

  “I have you.” He slid one hand around her stomach and the other around her throat, pressing his lips below her ear. “If you panic it’s just a click to let you out. No complicated ties, nothing too big.” He rubbed his cock over her bare ass. When had he undone his jeans? The skin on skin contact felt good, needed. She was almost ready to
be done with the play, and to the aftercare. But she wanted him to fuck her. She really did.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  “I knew you’d be at the perfect height in those heels.” He pressed a hand between her shoulder blades and pushed.

  She bent, finding the table met her at the hips. She found calm in the cool wood. She turned her face so she could watch as he buckled her into the cuffs. True to his word they would unclick with one press of a button.

  “Stay.” He walked around the table to do the other. “You look so sexy all spread out for me.”

  “Do you like the heels, Sir?” She was skirting the edge of the game. The talking helped calm her, so she kept it up.

  He tore open a condom and rolled it over himself as he came up behind her. “I think you knew what they’d do to me.” He began stroking his tip over her and between her lips, taking his time playing.

  “How’d you figure out this would be the perfect height?”

  “I did a lot of reading during my years away. There was mention of an anal table, and well I had a huge antique table in storage, and I’ve been envisioning it since.” He stuck two fingers inside her as he spoke and she pulled at the restraints. “Now, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to take what I want, and make sure it hurts to sit tomorrow.”

  “It’s all yours.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  He was close, but he could tell she was starting to panic.

  “Scotty.” The concern was clear in his voice

  “I’m okay,” she said through uneven breaths.

  He couldn’t keep it up. She was so hot spread out there, and she hadn’t said her safe word. He withdrew from her and went to her hands, pushing the clasps that held her. Even freed she didn’t move from the position.

  “Scotty.”

  “Sir,” she almost sounded like she was pleading, but he knew the subtle tones in her voice. She was fighting it. She was trying not to show him, and he hated that she felt she needed to.

  “It’s okay, kitten. I have you.” He picked her up and carried her to the master.

  She curled into him, but didn’t acknowledge she’d been moved at all. He slipped her under the duvet and climbed in beside her. She let him take her in his arms. He was starting to panic himself. He didn’t want her to go catatonic because he’d pushed her too far.

 

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