Page 51 of Saved By My Buyers

Clicking on the attachment, I chew on my bottom lip as I begin to answer the questions. The application is long, asking me questions about my sexual history, what my hard and soft limits were, height and weight, and more.

There are so many things I still don't understand about sex, so I find myself having to look up each and every question. This leads to a deep dive of more porn for research purposes than I feel comfortable confessing to. I want to ensure I understand everything as I check the yes or no questions.

Scat play? Is that….?! A simple google search made me want to bleach my eyes as I realize that scat play is definitely a hard limit for me. Continuing through, I shudder as I see anal play as a category.

Closing my eyes, I asked myself if I can have anal sex with anyone after what Gareth did to me.

No. I can’t. If this disqualifies me, then this isn’t meant to be. Opening my eyes, I check it as a hard limit. I also add water sports as a hard limit as well. I don’t know why being someone’s sexual slave makes my eyes widen, but as I research, I say that I can see the appeal.

I think and worry too much. The idea that someone would care for my needs while not pushing me past my hard limits makes me shiver in a good way.

I’m learning a lot of things about myself as I fill out the application form, realizing I’ll make a better sub than a dominant. I’ve been on my own for a lot of years, I want to be cared for, even if it’s just for a weekend.

Once the paperwork is done, I take a deep breath and put my laptop away. The email didn’t say I’d need an appointment, so I’ll go and get my lab work done tomorrow morning, since I’m off.

Frankie is starting up a fucking marathon tonight, making me sigh tiredly.

It’s after three in the morning, because I needed to make so many virtual detours to ensure I understood everything, and I just want to cry with exhaustion. Instead, I shake my head and lay in bed until I can finally drift off to sleep.

Who would have thought Frankie would make such a great lullaby?

The next morning, I’m exhausted as I drag myself through my shower and routine. I want to ensure that I look presentable in case I have an interview soon with the club. It takes forever to get my hair to do what I want it to, but I still manage before bundling up and leaving for my medical appointments.

Thankfully, the lab isn’t busy when I walk in, and they’re able to take me pretty quickly. Needles don’t bother me at all, so I zone out as the blood is taken, I get my first full physical in years, and then I’m finally sent along on my way with birth control.

Even if I’m not selected for some reason, these tests are important.

Gareth could have given me something awful because he refused to use protection. I went to a free clinic once to have a test done, but because I didn’t have proper identification, they wouldn’t take me.

Now, I have fake identification that appears real enough to pass, and the lab didn’t ask me for insurance or anything else I wouldn’t have. This is one of the easiest appointments that I’ve ever had.

I find myself smiling more through my day as I buy myself lunch at a taco food truck that has two dollar tacos. The food is delicious, and it’s the first food I’m eating today. Unfortunately, I don’t eat as often as I should with how much I exercise at the club.

I’m a bit thinner than I should be, and my breasts appear more prominent because of it.

One of the things on the auction application that I wasn’t expecting but should have been, was why I wanted to be a participant in the auction. As I walk back to my apartment building, I think about my answer. I was honest and earnest.

I want to begin a new life for myself, go back to school, and move away from the memories that haunt me.

The words course through my mind over and over, and I ask myself if those sound like the words of anyone other than a sad girl. Life hasn’t treated me well. I know that sounds whiny, but it’s true.

I lost the two good people who were filling my life with joy and light, and in choosing myself, I removed them from life.

The walk to my apartment flew by thankfully. It’s midafternoon now, and there’s no one in sight as I open the door to our shared space. Frankie isn’t fucking anyone, and my other two roommates appear to be working or out getting high.

I don’t much care which it is as long as they don’t bother me. Shutting and locking the front door, I hurry to my bedroom, barricading myself inside. The dash here always makes my heart pound, sure someone is going to grab me.

I’ve managed to begin a cushion of cash to pay for the sexy lingerie I’m going to need to buy for this. It’ll be a splurge, but it’s important that I look presentable and beautiful for this.

Buying lingerie where I usually do it for work isn’t going to cut it.

It’s too early to check to see if I’ve been accepted based on what I’ve done, right? Even simply knowing I’m able to go to the interview will help settle my nerves….

“Oh shit!” I squeal as I open an email from the club with the address for my interview.

“Okay, universe. Please let the blessings continue. I need them.”

Dahlia,

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