Page 39 of Brie's Submission
Blonde Nemesis looked at them both and growled, “Like I would tell you.”
“Stick in the mud!” Lea complained.
Mary ignored her and spoke to Brie. “I don’t get why you’re still here. I thought they kicked you out last night.”
“Sorry, Mary. I’m never leaving this place, so you might as well get used to it and stop acting like such a bitch.”
Mary’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Instead, she briskly moved to the other side of the room and ignored them.
Brie looked at all the delicate finger foods, but she couldn’t eat. Her stomach was tied in knots—but in a good way. She grabbed a water bottle and downed as much as she could.
Ms. Clark came back and announced, “Ms. Taylor, you will be first. Miss Bennett will follow and Miss Wilson will end the auction. Do not speak while you wait your turn.”
Brie obediently followed behind Lea, anxious and excited for the auction to begin.
The Winning Bid
Lea walked gracefully onto the stage. Brie could hear the low murmurs of several men. An announcer spoke to the small crowd. “Ms. Taylor is twenty-four and is a certified massage therapist outside these walls. Her trainers describe her as an enthusiastic submissive. Her fantasy involves the reluctant patient/doctor scenario. There are no additional changes to the sexual fantasy. I will start the bidding at one hundred.”
The auctioneer started rapidly rattling off numbers as the bids steadily climbed to four hundred. “Going once… Going twice… Sold to Master Harris for four hundred dollars.” Brie heard the footsteps as Master Harris collected Lea.
Brie’s whole body went numb. She was next, but she was rooted to her spot.
“Next, we have Miss Bennett.”
She tried to move, but her muscles wouldn’t cooperate. Mary gave her a hard push and she fell forward, barely catching herself before she walked out onto the stage. She paused and gathered herself, keeping her back straight, her lips supple and her body in a pleasing pose.
“Miss Bennett is twenty-two, with a bachelor’s degree in filmmaking outside these walls. Her trainers describe her as difficult, but teachable.”
Brie felt her heart drop.Difficult…? Really? Damn you, Ms. Clark!A young male voice spoke softly in a guttural language, which was followed by a low, rumbling chuckle.
“Her fantasy involves the Indian warrior claiming his virginal captive. There are no additional changes to her sexual fantasy…”
Brie heard someone in front of her clear his throat in an attempt to get her attention. She snuck a glance and saw Tono standing there. She looked back down, trying hard not to smile.
Ms. Clark barked, “Stop the auction!” Her stilettos clicked up to the stage as she rushed over to Brie. “Youstilldefy me.”
Tono spoke from the crowd. “Do not punish her. I was seeking her attention.”
“You know as well as I do that a submissive is responsible for following orders. She was told to keep her eyes down. I don’t care if the whole lot of you were calling out her name. Miss Bennett’s eyes should have stayed glued to the floor.” To Brie, she hissed, “I will not tolerate this act of disobedience.” She asked the three other trainers, “Do any of you have a blindfold?”
“I do,” Marquis Gray answered, amusement coloring his voice. He walked onto the stage and handed a strip of lace to her.
Ms. Clark tied the blindfold overly tight. What she didn’t suspect was that instead of humiliating Brie, it gave her power. Now that Brie didn’t have to worry about keeping her eyes down, it was actually freeing. When Ms. Clark walked away, she held her head up a little higher, but still at a respectful angle.
The auctioneer stated, “As I said before, there are no changes to her fantasy. I will start the bidding at one hundred.”
“Four hundred,” Tono said, his voice loud and clear. Brie squealed silently, excited at the prospect of spending a whole day alone with him.
She heard the low rumblings of the guttural language and then the young man’s voice rang through the room. “Five hundred.”
Brie felt the hairs go up on the back of her neck.
Tono confidently answered, “Six hundred.”
The auctioneer asked for seven hundred. When no one spoke, he rattled off, “Going once… Going…”
The foreigner spoke and the young man called out, “Seven hundred.”
