Page 16 of Once Upon A Sale

“A compliment? Wow.” Sophia winks in the mirror, and in a flurry of movements, all of their tools are back in a bag and they’re off, probably to perfect another guest ready to be auctioned off.

Left alone with my thoughts, the doubts over what’s about to happen start to seep in. It occurs to me, quickly enough, that it’s too late to back out, so now I just need to get into my role and cross all of my fingers and toes that the trafficker will see me as worthy enough to spend a fuck load of his money on me.

Hope springs eternal, right?

The time between hair and makeup leaving my dressing room and my being led to the stage is a blur. I’m number eleven, the number I drew earlier from the bowl, so I could hear heels walking down the hall and past my door while I waited. Now it’s my turn, headed for the stage where I’ll have to prance around and make sure I’m enticing enough for the lowest of lowlives to pick me. At least, that’s how I picture my target. I have no idea what the others here are like, and in hindsight, I probably should have worried about that before jumping into this situation.

In my La Perla lingerie and heels tall enough to break my neck a few times over, I make my way up to the stage, one careful step at a time, and look out into the void in front of me. A voice on the microphone calls my name, Sunny, and begins rattling off a list of bullet points describing every attribute and talent I have.

“Sunny, twenty-six and sexually active. She stands at five feet seven inches with measurements of thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six and weighs in at one hundred and thirty pounds. Blonde hair and blue eyes. She is active in sports, notably martial arts and shooting.” That’s right motherfuckers, I can kick your asses or shoot you dead, depending on my mood.

Never in a million years could I have guessed that I’d be here, being judged by how big or small my tits are. Then again…that’s every day in the real world, isn’t it?

It’s when the bidding begins that my heart takes off racing like I’m aiming to run away and never come back. Fitting, really, since I have to prance around like a show pony and show off said attributes.

My upbringing in high end society has taught me to walk the walk and make my appearance worthy of the people around me. Which is exactly what I do. I do the catwalk, making sure to cross my legs as I walk and pushing my hips out as I turn. I even bend over to grab my ankles and slide my hands up my calves and thighs before placing my palms on the undersides of my bra cups, smiling at the pitch black room before me. Somewhere out there is the man I want to seduce and hopefully kill after this weekend is over.

“Thank you, you may now start bidding.”

Time for the reckoning to begin.

My heart racing, my legs shaking the slightest bit, the same person who brought me to the stage leads me back to my room and I can hear another participant going through the same steps as me.

I can only imagine how nervous the other participants are. But what I’m feeling now doesn’t begin to compare to the stress I feel when I’m led back to my dressing room and told to wait for my buyer to arrive.

And boy, does he ever.

Again…Fuck. My. Life.

Chapter Eight

Jarrett

This place has better security than the Vatican secret archives. I get it, but damn, some of it feels a little unnecessary. They hold a lot of very personal information for some very fucking rich arseholes, and if the security here was shit, they’d never be able to hold an auction again.

Tonight, I’m one of those rich arseholes. Not because I need to pay for sex, but because I want the anonymity that comes with this weekend. The woman I buy has already been vetted, she’s signed her own mountain of paperwork, including an NDA, so it’ll be easy to leave her behind on Sunday without looking over my shoulder for a new cling-on. She’ll have a pseudonym, and I don’t have to use my real name either. Personal details aren’t something we’ll be exchanging and I’m good with that.

A woman wearing what I can only describe as purple underwear shows me to the bar, where I order The Hummer. I did a little research before coming to Detroit because I like to sample state delicacies. The Hummer is Michigan’s signature drink, created sometime in the 1960’s at the Detroit BayviewYacht Club. I watch the server pour white rum, then Kahlua, before placing two small scoops of vanilla ice cream in the glass.

I’m then led to my seat and given a small tablet personalized to me so I can bid on my new toy for the weekend in private. The problem I have is that Ophelia has set up shop in my brain. Kissing her was dangerous, fucking stupid really, and even all these weeks later, my dick only seems to get hard when I’m thinking of her. Which is all the fucking time, but it has made working with Georgina difficult.

The good news is that Georgina has been sent back to The Firm to be sold to her new master, and I’ve got a month to fuck around before I have to pick up my next batch of trainees. The first couple of weeks are usually the hardest with them as they come to terms with their new way of life.

This weekend, the beginning of my month off, is actually being paid for by The Firm, a treat for all my good work, according to Dad. I have a feeling they’re trying to butter me up for something, but I can deal with that when the time comes.

The room goes silent and I sip my drink, which is fucking delicious, as the MC for the evening appears on stage. He’s the same dude I interviewed with. I think his name is Edward, but I could be wrong.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Club Lust. We are pleased to have sixteen lots of merchandise up for sale tonight. Please remember, once the lights are fully off that no one is to move from their seats. This auction will be silent. As I announce the merchandise, a head shot will appear on your tablets. I will provide information on each lot. If you are interested, the starting bid is five-hundred-thousand and will go up in increments of fifty thousand until it reaches one million. At that time, each bid will rise by five-hundred-thousand. You can click the bid button as many times as you desire. Each auction will only be open for five minutes. At the end of that time, thetablets will announce the winning bid number only. A reminder: we do not use names. If you are outbid, it will flash across your screen to bid again, and if you win, the tablet will flash ‘you are the winner.’ Just a reminder, if you bid for two people and win tonight, then your tablet is automatically locked, preventing you from any additional bidding for the night.” He pauses briefly, making sure he still has everyone’s attention. “Our first lot for tonight is Virtue.”

The lights go down, casting the room in darkness, right before the stage brightens and the first woman is described.

I didn’t know the option to buy two women tonight was a thing, but I’ve gotta say, if one woman can’t get Ophelia out of my head, then I sure as shit reckon two could do the job.

Virtue is beautiful, prancing around the stage in her lingerie, but I can’t bring myself to bid for her. The way her dark hair frames her face is nothing like Ophelia…

A blonde. That’s what I need. Maybe two.

The next woman is just as beautiful, and she even has thick blonde hair, but my finger doesn’t even twitch over the option to bid. I order another drink or five as the night goes on and women of all shapes and sizes do their thing on stage. Some are more confident than others, and there’s no denying they’re all fucking gorgeous, but I think my dick is officially broken because I’m not in the mood to buy any of them.

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