Page 6 of Sin

I sit on the exam table in my stupid paper gown with a paper sheet over my lap.

“Let's do this quickly, shall we?”

Releasing a worried sigh, I nod, “Please.”

“Feet up on the table, please, drop your knees to the side. I’m going to insert two fingers inside you. You may feel some pressure, but I’ll be quick.”

I do as he says, and he squirts some gel onto his fingers and he’s right when he pushes them inside me and, like he said, I feel pressure. I wince slightly but don’t complain, because I just want to be done with this. This isn’t my first pelvic exam, but I’ve only had a few. Normally, you start going when you become sexually active, which of course I’m not, but my doctor required it for birth control, even though it was just to make my cycle easier.

After he finishes, he tosses his gloves into the garbage, washes his hands and starts clicking away on his i-Pad.

He nods, “All clean.”

I’m surprised he has the test results already, but I say nothing.

“My nurse will give you a printout to bring with you to the club. Don’t forget it because they will not let you participate without it.”

“Thank you.”

“Good luck,” he says as he walks to the door and leaves me alone to get dressed. I take a deep breath as I get off the table and grab my clothing. I did it. Step one, done, but I know it’s the next step that’s going to be the most difficult.

CHAPTER 6

SIN

Tonight is going to be an interesting night. My closest friend, Zade, called to inform me his step daughter is at my club, on virginity auction night and he all but begged me to refuse her. I won’t. He knows this from when Ashton found his damn step-sister on my stage. If she’s eighteen and meets the qualifications, I have no reason to forbid women from doing what they want with their body. Of course, if he wants to bid on her to stop her from being with another man, that’s fine. His money is as good as anybody else’s.

I sit at my desk, going through the questionnaires for tonight. When girls enter the auction, they are given a list of things they will and won’t do. Everything here is one hundred percent consensual. If they mark something as a hard limit, our auction winners may not even mention it. They said no to that act for a reason.

Molly walks into the room with a light tap on the door as I sip my whiskey.

I glance up from the paperwork and notice she is wearing the outfit that she knows is my favorite. A black lace bustier, matching panties with a garter belt and fishnet thigh-highs, along with the five-inch heels I purchased for her. She’s notmysubmissive, but she is a submissive I’ve fucked more than once. Molly wanted an exclusive relationship, but I didn't do that. I’m not interested in any kind of commitment. I never have been because it never ends well. Why would you want a woman to turn your world upside down? That’s what they do. Submissive or not, they always want more. First it’s fucking and perfect, then before you know it they want love, marriage and goddamn babies.

“Sir, I miss you.”

I look in her eyes as she leans over my desk, her hands pressed on the dark surface, and I know she’s trying to force my gaze to her tits that are undoubtedly pushed together. It would be easy to fuck her tonight. She knows what I expect and is honestly the perfect sub. That I can’t get the damn woman from the casino out of my mind pisses me off and, ultimately, is what makes me give in.

“After the auction.”

She smiles at me like she won the lottery. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

I nod, “You always are.”

Her even bigger smile tells me she thinks that was praise, but really it wasn’t. Sure, I expect a woman to be submissive and do as she’s told, but I enjoy a challenge. I like to punish occasionally. She’s too easy. A little defiance keeps it interesting. Molly would never defy me, which is why she bores me endlessly. She’ll always do exactly as she’s told. I haven’t had sex in six long fucking months, which is ridiculous for the owner of a BDSM club. Maybe I’m going through a mid-life crisis because the women in my club do not hold my attention anymore. It's more about scratching an itch, which I'm definitely in need of. Tonight, she’ll do. Maybe that way I can get that sweet little southern accent out of my head.

Belinda comes in shortly after Molly leaves and updates me on tonight.

“We have seven women tonight. All are here in the locker room.”

I glance up from the limits list I was going over. “Clearances?”

She rolls her eyes, “Obviously, Sin.”

All women have to be virgins and have a clean bill of health and be on birth control because most of the men don’t want to use condoms. However, that’s on the list. If a man doesn’t want to use protection but the woman does, he knows this before placing a bid. The most common age for the girls in our auction is eighteen because they don’t tend to hold on to their virginity longer than that.

People think Belinda is a bitch because she’s not friendly. She's jealous. With the young women in my establishment, she stands little chance of piquing the interest of a Dom. They all want young ones. Of course, there are perks to older submissives that know what they’re doing, but most of my clientele want one that they can train to their specifications. I have never fucked her, although she has tried many times. Not because at forty she’s too old, but because she’s my right-hand man, so to speak, and I don’t want to muddy the waters. I’d hate to lose her because she makes everything run smoothly.

She tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder and glares at me. “I saw Molly come in here.”

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