InnocenceForSale.com/Jane (Innocence For Sale Book 3)

by Ada Scott

  The last thing I was expecting to see when I pulled into the driveway was a little sports car with the license plate number ‘SH3LLZ’ parked behind Anthony’s pickup. I recognized it, of course; it belonged to Rochelle, one of the most popular girls from my school.

  I thought she was off at college living the sorority sister high life, so I had no idea what she was doing back in town, let alone at my boyfriend’s house. On Valentine’s Day.

  She was always a little too friendly with Anthony for my liking, but he assured me there was nothing going on, they’d just known each other since they were five. I may have been a little unsure of myself as far as being a girlfriend went, but I didn’t want to be that type, making false accusations all the time, so I said I believed him.

  The way her car was here out of the blue on today of all days made me go numb, though. Maybe all the smoke I’d been breathing for the last couple of years really did mean there was a fire.

  When I stepped out of the car I didn’t close the door behind me. Something told me that this might very well be a time for stealth.

  I walked up the path and had to consciously uncurl my hands, which had bunched up into tight little balls of stress that forced my fingernails into my palms painfully. After climbing the steps, I stood at the front door and I felt like I was marching into a gas chamber.

  “Please don’t do this to me today,” I said. “Please, please, please not today.”

  With my hand raised, ready to knock, I heard a sharp sound to my right, coming through the window that I knew looked into their living room. I took a step towards it.

  Get back in your car and leave, you don’t want to see this.

  I ignored my internal monologue and took another step. Inch by inch, the room was revealed to me. I saw the back of Anthony’s head, sitting low on the couch facing away from the window. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  Another step showed that he wasn’t wearing pants either. Rochelle was there, also facing away from the window, straddling Anthony and bouncing on his erection.

  Around her midriff was a red ribbon tied into a bow at her lower back that bounced along with her. There was some writing on it in white text, the part I could see read “ppy Valen” and I could fill in the blanks no problem.

  Anthony slapped her on the ass; it was the sound that I’d heard a few seconds ago. Slowly, as if I was still in stealth-mode, I crumpled to my knees. They disappeared over the horizon of the window sill, then I leaned forward and buried my face in my hands.

  Fresh tears came. My heart was broken. My life was broken. The horrific echoes of taunting and laughter from my last few days at my old school came back to me, and blasted away my illusions again, leaving me with the same self-loathing I’d been running from for the past two years.

  You deserve this, you brought it on yourself. What? You thought you were worth waiting for? You’re a sick sick girl and nobody will ever love you.

  I crawled back in the direction of the door so they wouldn’t see me if they’d changed positions, then stood, and returned to the car. As I pulled away, I saw their faces looking out at me from the window.

  Kris

  March 2017

  “Here it is,” said Kevin, “I know an agency called InnocenceForSale.com that auctions off girls’ virginities, and their terms and conditions offer an interesting opportunity for me to make some money off of you.”

  Daniel and I shared an incredulous glance at each other before turning back to Kevin. “You can’t be serious,” I said.

  “Oh, I am. What’s the matter? Scared? I haven’t even told you the terms of the bet yet.”

  I leaned back with my beer and moved my finger in forward circles, gesturing for him to go ahead and tell me, even though I was sure this was a joke.

  “OK, I know that look, but trust me, it’s real. I used it myself and it was the best week of my life.”

  I laughed hesitantly. “What are you doing paying for sex with some chick who nobody else wanted to get in bed with?”

  “It’s not like that, man,” Kevin said. “I don’t know where or how they find these girls, but Cindy over there is a troll compared to the one I won in the auction on this site.”

  I craned my neck over the back of the seat and looked at the beautiful model for a second. “She’s a troll, huh? Guess that explains why she hits so hard, right Dan?”

  Kevin and I laughed, even Daniel couldn’t resist a chuckle.

  “Only in comparison,” said Kevin. “I paid a little over six hundred thousand and I’m telling you it was a fucking bargain.”

  “Six hundred thousand for pussy?” Daniel spluttered.

  “Yep.” Kevin took a sip of his drink.

  “What does all this have to do with me?” I asked.

  “There’s an auction closing tonight, in about an hour. I’ve come prepared and I’ve already had preliminary access for you approved by the owner of the agency.”

  “What the fuck would I need this for?” I asked.

  “You don’t need it, but you’re gonna want it. That’s what I’m counting on. The whole wager depends on it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Kevin pulled out his phone and unlocked it before handing it to me. It showed an auction page with a countdown timer, a picture of an admittedly stunning young woman named Amy, listed her various physical attributes, a little sales pitch about her, a laundry list of sex acts she was willing to participate in, and showed the current bid at almost five hundred thousand dollars.

  I flicked through her gallery of photos, which showed her in various poses and a couple different outfits, before the slideshow went back to the main picture, a close up of her face. She had a beautiful smile and those baby-blue eyes were out of this world. I handed his phone back.

  “OK, she’s hot as hell,” I conceded. “What do I have to do?”

  Kevin smiled like a fisherman who feels a nibble. “Basically, what I had in mind was for you to win the auction for a start, then the girl stays with you for a week but you have to resist the urge to fuck her, and send her back at the end of the week still a virgin. If you can do that then the agency will refund your money and I’ll match the winning bid. If you can’t, and let’s face it, you can’t, then your bid is obviously gone, but you also have to pay me whatever the winning bid was.”

  My mind looked at the situation from a few angles for a second. “Pfff, easiest money I ever fucking made-”

  “Not so fast, cowboy. There’s a bunch of fine print.”

  “Fuck sake, how much time have you spent thinking this through?”

  “A few weeks, to be honest. Once the idea came to me, it was too perfect to let go.”

  “Alright, lay out the fine print.”

  Kevin smirked. “Well, first of all, you can’t just meet her at the airport, tell her to have a nice week and then fuck off to the Bahamas until she’s gone. You’ve got to spend at least twelve hours a day with her, and some of that time, you’ve got to be alone. In bed asleep doesn’t count, and I’ll even cut you a little bit of slack and say you can sleep in separate rooms.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” I said.

  “I know. Second, and this is a big one, you can’t fuck any other girl from now until the week is up.”

  “From now?”

  Kevin nodded.

  “How long does it take for the girl to show up after the auction closes?”

  “Could be a month or more, the agency will have to check you out before they send the girl and make sure you’re not a serial killer with the clap.”

  “How many serial killers’ weapon of choice is the clap?” I muttered, then spoke up. “A month?”

  “Or more.”

  “I haven’t gone that long without since I was fifteen,” I said.

  “And then you’ll have to spend a week with what will probably be the hottest girl you’ve ever seen,” Kevin laughed.

  The girl on Kevin’s phone was cute as fuck, but that was probably an exagg
eration on his part. Still, even if she was half as good as her pictures, by the time I’d abstained from sex for a month, I’d probably be delirious with lust.

  I took another sip of my drink and drummed my fingers on the table. Maybe something like this would be good for me. It could be like a sex-detox process. I mean, here I was in this club, surrounded by beautiful women, with a sexy girl’s phone number written on a card in my pocket and I didn’t give a fuck about any of them anymore.

  If I forced myself to go without for a while, maybe I could recapture the kind of feelings I used to have, bringing home a new girl every time I hit the town. I stroked my cheek.

  “So, the moment this girl is out of my sight through the departure gates at the airport at the end of the week, I can grab an air hostess and fuck her on one of those luggage scales?”

  “Of course.”

  “Any other fine print?” I asked.

  “Just have a little class. Don’t intentionally make her despise you, and no jerking off while the girl is living with you,” said Kevin.

  “Uh… how do you plan to keep track of all this?” asked Daniel. “You setting up a jerk-off cam in his bedroom?”

  “Nah, I trust him. He’d rather lose the bet than win by lying about it,” said Kevin.

  “OK… what about if she sucks me off, but I don’t fuck her? You should pay up double in recognition of my supreme willpower, right?”

  Kevin laughed. “No! This is all about the ever-fucking Kris Lane keeping his dick out of this girl. I don’t think there’s any way you can do it. Tell you what, though. If you blow a load down her throat but don’t fuck her, I won’t pay you anything, but you don’t have to pay me anything either. I’ll leave it up to you to argue with Ada, she runs Innocence For Sale, about getting your bid back. Deal?”

  I held up my hands and smiled. “You might as well write the check now, shit for brains. I’m in.”

  Kevin held out his hand and I shook it. Kevin turned to Daniel. “Witness?”

  “Witness!”

  “Alright.” Kevin pulled out his phone again and tapped away at it. “I’ve sent you an access link”

  Sure enough, the message from Kevin was there when I unlocked my own phone. I clicked it and found myself on the site Kevin had showed me. A moment later, I had navigated through to Amy’s auction page. The bid was already at five hundred and fifty thousand, and the countdown showed half an hour to go.

  “You driving the price up on this auction?” I asked.

  “Nope… but that wouldn’t matter to you anyway, would it?”

  I shrugged. “More money for me.”

  I entered a bid of seven hundred and sixty thousand in the hope of scaring off the other bidders. On the other side of the table, Kevin and Dan looked at Kevin’s phone.

  “Seven sixty, that you?” Daniel asked.

  “Yeah.”

  For several minutes, it looked like my plan had worked, but then I saw the bid tick over to eight hundred thousand.

  “Fuck.”

  I put in a bid of eight hundred and fifty thousand, but almost immediately somebody countered with nine hundred thousand.

  “I think this is a record, I’m not sure,” said Kevin.

  I submitted a bid of nine hundred and fifty thousand, hoping whoever I was bidding against was feeling the looming pressure of the million-dollar mark. It wasn’t that much more than what we’d already committed to, but there’s just something about that number that feels different.

  There was less than ten minutes left on the countdown when the bid updated to nine hundred and seventy five thousand dollars. That was a smaller increment than they’d been bidding before, so my hunch about the million-dollar mark was right.

  Kevin wasn’t joking when he said he had a wager that wasn’t under-the-sofa-cushions bullshit. This was some serious money he was going to be paying me.

  The bid updated to nine hundred and eighty nine thousand dollars, then a second later all the way up to nine hundred and ninety nine thousand, where it stayed until the countdown showed fifty nine seconds left.

  “Is that you?” Kevin asked.

  “No. Looks like there’s at least two others bidding for her.”

  “You out?”

  “No.”

  Forty five seconds. I entered one million and ten thousand dollars, then clicked submit. The million dollar barrier was broken.

  Thirty seconds. The bid updated to one million and fifty… then one million and eighty thousand dollars.

  Ten seconds. I entered one million one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, feeling my heart pounding about thirty beats every time the screen flickered with the countdown animation.

  Three. Two. One… Finalizing. It still showed my bid. A minute later my phone buzzed and an email had come through congratulating me on my winning bid. I slumped back and took a deep breath.

  “I won.”

  “It’s on?” asked Kevin.

  “It’s on.” I fished the card with Lacey’s number on it out of my pocket and flicked it across the table at Daniel. “Guess I won’t be needing that. See what you can do with it.”

  What had I just gotten myself into?

  Amy

  May 2017

  The fasten-seat-belt lights switched off and sparked a commotion of metallic clacking as everybody stood and started opening the overhead compartments to recover their carry-on luggage. Everybody except me, that is.

  I stared straight ahead at the little screen set into the back of the seat in front of me, which read “Welcome to New Eastport” with little fireworks animations popping off in the background. If my stomach was to be believed, then I was part of an interstate butterfly-smuggling operation.

  My hands rested numbly on top of my bare thighs. The dress I was wearing was short enough to be enticing but long enough to be classy. Ada, the woman who ran InnocenceForSale.com, had it down to a fine science. For my height, this was the perfect length to drive men wild.

  I’d found the site before the end of February at the end of a long night searching the internet for money-making schemes. I’d seen an article about a girl who sold her virginity for big bucks, and then tentatively looked for sites that handled those kind of… transactions.

  That’s what I was now. Something that had been bought and sold for some man’s pleasure. By the end of the night a rich, possibly octogenarian, man would have taken my virginity and cum inside me.

  A lump formed in my throat, possibly made out of the last remnants of my illusions about the way my first time was supposed to be. None of that mattered anymore. I had a job to do. I swallowed it away, cleared my throat and stood to retrieve my own carry-on.

  I clutched my bag against my body like a shield, lost in my own world and trying to ignore the way everybody was looking at me. The men’s eyes darted all over my body. The women’s eyes did too, but they were narrowed angrily and darted back and forth between me and their partners.

  I wasn’t used to this kind of attention. Growing up on the farm, I’d never really thought much about the kind of working-over Ada’s team gave me. Every square inch of my body, and I mean every square inch, had been fussed over by an expert in their field.

  It was all part of the package for the winning bidder, to have the perfect sex object delivered to them. Ada explained it was also for me, to help boost my confidence in what was an unavoidably nerve-wracking situation. I didn’t think it was working.

  My face burned and I held my bag even tighter, staring at the heels of the person in front of me as we shuffled along the aisle towards the door. The head of the flight cabin crew was personally thanking and welcoming every passenger to New Eastport as we stepped off the plane into the mobile tunnel leading into the airport.

  I welcomed the breeze that hit me from the gap between the tunnel and the side of the plane, cooling my flushed face. My thoughts drifted to the same ones that had kept me awake more and more since my auction closed.

  Who was this man who had paid over
a million dollars to take my virginity? What kind of a man did that?

  Despite Ada’s reassurances that her clients weren’t the type that had any problems picking up women, it was hard to believe. That’s where my fears about him being an octogenarian sprang from, those quiet times at night failing to sleep.

  Despite that fear, I still boarded the plane and here I was. I would do it, even that, even for a week, to save the farm.

  Lost in my thoughts, I followed the flow of people from my plane through the airport to the baggage reclaim area. With a luggage trolley gripped in my hands, I staked a claim to a clear spot near the conveyor belt and waited.

  It took several minutes before it started moving, and I used the time to try to remember everything from Ada’s crash course on being an IFS girl. She would have liked to spend more time preparing me, but I insisted everything happen as quickly as possible.

  I had the bank’s looming deadline terrorizing me into that insistence and even so it had still been over a month and a half since my auction closed. If everything worked out, I’d be paid just in time to clear the mortgage and save the farm.

  Luggage of all shapes and sizes began parading past me while I waited. I tugged the hem of my dress down and looked at the modest neckline, which barely hinted at my small chest.

  For some reason, I’d expected Ada to accentuate what little I had in that department a lot more, but as usual she had a reasoned answer for everything. I wasn’t a slut, the client could have picked up one of those for a couple hundred bucks. I wasn’t a high-end escort, you could get those for a thousand or two. I wasn’t even a celebrity porn star. You could pick those up for less than five figures.

  I was an IFS girl, and I was worth a record-breaking seven figures. The only girls worth that much were pure, innocent, natural beauties, and sometimes less is more.

  The remembered sound of Anthony’s hand smacking Rochelle’s ass cut that train of thought off before it was in any danger of going to my head. He didn’t think I was worth much. The boyfriend before that had driven me out of school.