I’ve built an empire of destruction. One so enormous, no one can touch me.
I take what I want, and I can buy all the rest.
She’s a risk I shouldn’t take, but too f*cking tempting to deny.
Naked, sweet and perfect on the auction block, she’s the only virgin Club La Laisse has ever offered. Now she’s mine… to do with as I please.
One touch and I couldn’t stop. One taste and I nearly lost control. One unguarded moment and now she has the power to ruin me.
She’s discovered my deepest secret. But I’m going to discover all of hers. I don’t care how deep I have to go…
But how can I live with myself?
When she’s suddenly become everything… I can’t live without.
1
Grace, aka Eden
This is my choice. Standing here tonight, naked under my silk robe, in front of more than a dozen of the world’s wealthiest men. The lights on the stage are hot, but I’m still shaking like I’m freezing cold. But I’m no fucking victim, that’s for sure. I know how to make the hard decisions. I’ve been making them since I was six years old. Now I’m twenty-two. A virgin who put herself up for auction. Tell me that doesn’t take some balls.
Not exactly innocent… I have friends who’ve done everything and talk about it plenty. When we were younger, they teased me till I cried. But I stopped crying altogether the year I turned thirteen. And I stayed a virgin. That’s why I’m here tonight.
I should have my head examined…
But I did my research. This club is exclusive even among the exclusive. It’s all about dominance… and submission. That’s why the money is so good. But that’s also where it stops. There’s no sadism or anything like that. Nobody gets hurt here. Not clients, not the girls. And from what I’ve heard, it’s not even always the girl who’s the submissive one. Some men will pay plenty, to wear the collar themselves.
I’m not at all sure which kind of man I’d be better off ending up with tonight.
I remember every single moment that led me here. To La Laisse… The Leash. I’m embarrassed a good girl like me even knows about a place like this… but a poor kid from Jersey can learn about a lot of things that she shouldn’t.
I’m waiting my turn on the auction block. Six have already been sold. Only one girl is left ahead of me. I’m the one they’re saving for last. All of tonight’s girls are naked like me, dressed only in jewelry. They’re the most exquisite pieces I’ve ever seen, loaned to us for the evening. And at La Laisse, I’m pretty sure these diamonds are the real thing.
“Gentlemen, may I present Dalia,” the madam says, although I’ve been told not to use that word. She’s Mrs. Sparr to new girls like me. To the ones who’ve been here the longest, she’s Mom. I don’t intend to be here long enough to call her that, and I’ve already got one mom too many. She’s the fucking reason I’m here.
“Dalia is one of our premiere girls,” Mrs. S continues. She’s dressed like a queen and plays the part to perfection. We live in her realm now and she rules us all. She’s even renamed us. Dalia’s real name is just plain Peg.
“Dalia knows a man’s darkest desires,” Mrs. S says dramatically, as the black-haired girl kneels and flashes her eyes, offering her leash to a frighteningly large man with black eyes seated in the front row. He wears a suit that must have cost more than Evelyn and I made all last year cashiering at Tony’s Market. This guy’s like all the men here. Millionaires, billionaires. Men from all over the world, who come here for just one thing.
“There’s little she hasn’t done. And there’s nothing she won’t do. Dalia’s hungry for a master who can teach her something new… something exciting… something exotic. Dalia’s a girl who always eager for that something more…”
The room is expansive, the ceilings high. Far too large for our intimate gathering. The stage and seating areas are draped in deep red velvet, the lighting is the color of champagne. La Laisse takes up the entire top six floors of an Art Deco era, Upper East Side townhouse. I can only see the faces of a few men in the front row. The rest seem to be absorbed in the darkness beyond.
“Down!” Mrs. S orders, and Dalia drops her chest to the floor. Her hips stay up, her knees apart. Dalia’s enormous breasts drop onto the marble tile and, in spite of myself, I look. Her nipples are dark and rock hard, pushed out by the jeweled clamps that circle them. I feel inadequate in comparison and push the feeling aside. The man takes Dalia’s leash with a smile and gives it a jerk. “Turn her,” he says, his voice soft. It’s the very softness of it that sends a chill through me.
Mrs. S calls the order and Dalia pivots her body. She’s incredibly graceful, even though her arms are tightly bound behind her. We each wear a pair of gold slave bracelets. They’re around the upper arms, just above the elbow and have small rings attached that can be used for leashes or chains. Hers, like mine, are used to bind our arms behind us. It thrusts our breasts forward, making them higher, rounder… more vulnerable…
Dalia’s turned around now, so that her sex is on display. The man stands up and takes a few steps forward. Because the stage is raised, Dalia’s pussy is almost level with the man’s cold features. He looks at her with a detachment that makes my blood run like ice water. I feel dizzy and the bright stage lights are making my vision spotty. I pull a deep breath.
I can do this, I tell myself. I have to do this. It can’t be worse than what I’ve been through already with Evelyn. And it’s only one week… only one week. Besides, all my friends say the first time is no big deal anyway. They said it was over almost before they knew what had happened. And it’s not like he’s ever gonna be the guy you end up with, twenty years down the line… Evelyn’s fifth marriage taught me that.
I watch, knowing I’m next, anxiety building in my chest in spite of the big brave words I tell myself. But that’s what I’ve learned to do. Stick out my chin and deal. It’s all that got me through my childhood. I need it to get me through this.
Shit. I’ve never been naked in front of one man before, let alone this… audience. I watch as the huge man looks Dalia over. He’s careful not to touch. That’s not allowed… not until the gavel falls.
I hear the bidding start. The voices seem far away. They’re soft and distant somehow. Business is taken care of quickly here, the veneer of class and money lending it all an air of refinement and sophistication that belies the real reason we’re all here tonight. This place promises Executive Stress Management. But the women want money. And the men want to control us. That, or totally lose control themselves.
International consumerism on a hot, twisty date, I think, and swallow a touch of hysteria.
It’s over faster than I expect, the irony not lost as the cold in my veins reaches my heart, my brain. Dalia went for sixty thousand, for one single night. I’ll go for far more, Mrs. S tells me. Virgins always do, though I can’t figure why. You’d think these guys would want a woman who knows what the hell she’s doing…
I remind myself again… that I’m the one getting the better end of the deal.
I’ll be here for seven nights. And tonight is the one that will bring the most. If I’m up on the block again for the other six, I’ll go for less since I won’t be a virgin anymore. Still, I’ll get what I need. And Evelyn and I will have some kind of future…
It’s a relief, not to feel anything now. I can just watch my virginity be sold to the highest bidder, and I don’t have to feel a thing. It’s only a week, I repeat in my head, and I’ll have enough for the lawyers. And even for rehab after that. Evelyn’s promised that she’ll stop for good this time.
I’d feel sick, if I could still feel, remembering her coming home smelling like gin, with the windshield smashed and the front end of the car all dented in. She said she didn’t remember how it had happened. But the police showed up two days later at work and arrested her. They said she hit and killed the wife of some important politician… and that there was a witness. I feel my cheeks go warm with anger and s
hame.
But Evelyn is still my mom, no matter what… And this is the way I can give her one more chance. The way I can give us both one more chance. I’m tired of being the adult in our relationship. But if there’s any chance that she could clean up, and be the mother I always needed and never had…
Shit. To feel taken care of... to feel safe for the very first time? What wouldn’t I do for that?
Mrs. Sparr comes to me and takes my leash so gently it threatens to break through the cocoon of numbness that I’m counting on, to get me through the next seven days. “It’s time, Grace,” she says softly, leading me forward when I nod to her that I’m ready. I watch as the man with black eyes leads Dalia away. She raises her head up enough to give me a wink. Her smile is warm, seductive. She looks like a sleek cat, well pleased with herself. I look away.
“The ones that will bid on you are longtime members,” Mrs. S says in my ear. “I’ve known them for years,” she soothes. “They’re good men, respected, very wealthy. The one who bought Dalia is the only gentleman here I don’t know personally.”
I try to relax as we move to the center of the stage. She leaves me alone now, and moves to the podium to reclaim her role as queen. I try to focus, knowing I chose La Laisse because Mrs. Sparr takes care of her girls. For a place with no limits, there are still things Mrs. S won’t stand for and I’m relying on that. I shrug my shoulders and let my robe fall back onto the chain binding my arms. I try to still my shaking knees as the air hits every exposed nerve ending all at once.
I look out into darkness of the audience, knowing there’s one man out there who will buy me for the night. This time tomorrow, it’ll be easier. It just has to be. I lift my chin, look out over the tops of their heads and listen to my heart trying to pound its way free of my chest.
All I need to do is hold on and remember… I’m not selling my body as much as I’m buying my future.
“Gentlemen, I’m pleased to announce your long wait is now at an end,” Mrs. S says, her voice regal. “You’ve all read tonight’s program I’m sure, and are eager for the bidding to begin. I offer you the grande finale of La Laisse’s finest evening. From the very garden of original sin itself… Gentleman, I give you… Eden.”
“May I have an opening offer of fifty thousand?”
2
Gabriel, aka Kaine
My shoulders heave as I exhale hard, starting to relax as I sink into a plush red chair in the last row. The dimness of the light is soothing. It’s only been one year, but from the tension in my body, it might easily have been ten. My cock is hard as hell, but then it often is, and I’m very used to that. Sexual tension is like fuel to me. Pure, unadulterated power. I store it, keeping it leashed and burning inside me, drawing on it to drive my success. Which has been enormous. The others here are wealthy, powerful. Yet not one can touch the empire I’ve built.
I watch as the auction moves on, uninterested in the lovely flowers Mrs. Sparr has on display. Each one is beautiful, every one different from the last. But I’ve had them all, over the course of the last few years I’ve been a client. Lovely, talented, very… capable girls. But none of them are what I want tonight. Tonight, I came for the finale girl.
She’s standing back, separated from the others, and I can’t see her properly from where I’m sitting. No matter, I tell myself patiently. There’s plenty of time for that. I lean back and run my hands through my hair, around the back of my neck. I am nothing, if not a patient man…
One week. One short week. Once a year… here at La Laisse.
I have to have total control. Make no mistake. When I say total control, I mean just that. All year long, I’m business, nothing but fucking business. Even here, where sexual extremes are the norm.
I’m a man, with all the powerful drives and needs of any man. But only for a single week out of the year, do I allow myself the indulgence of a woman. Any more than that, and I’ll lose my edge. The edge that makes me who I am. But even here, I won’t lose control. It’s the only valuable lesson I ever learned from my father. Never fucking lose control.
I watch, amused as Dalia parades her ample charms. She’s luring in a man I’ve unfortunately seen here all too often. He’ll get his money’s worth. Dalia’s equally expert at both submission and dominance. God help him, if he’s looking to be the sub tonight, I think, smiling. But then that’s no concern of mine. No woman has ever dominated me. And no woman ever will.
My eyes wander back to Eden. The first virgin La Laisse has ever offered. Her robe is pink silk. I can see that her hair is very long and pale. Until she steps forward on the stage, that’s about all I can see.
But the details of her appearance aren’t why I’m going to buy her. It’s her innocence I’m after. My cock throbs hard, and I shift my thoughts away from it. I’m good at that. A man who lives without sexual expression for a year at a time, has to be good at it.
Mrs. Sparr lowers her sterling gavel to the podium and Dalia is sold. I don’t know who looks more pleased, as her partner leads her off the stage. He sits back down in his front row seat and pulls Dalia onto his lap. His hands cup her ass as she sits, and I watch the small movements of his shoulders and the way she shifts and settles. He’s inside her already, I think, equally amused and disdainful.
I sit up now, ready to take what I came for. I have only a week, I tell myself. And every minute counts… Shit, every fucking second…
Mrs., Sparr has led the virgin to the center of the stage and is talking to her softly. As she moves aside and heads for her podium, I get my first real look. Something inside me shifts, almost painfully, and I sit spellbound. Her hair isn’t just light. It’s blonde, pale blonde… the color of corn silk. The lights touch it just so, and it seems to have a blush of rose in it. It’s long, to her hips, but falls in careless spiraling curls over her shoulders. Her eyes look off in the distance, as if she sees something the rest of us can’t. They’re green, I see, even from yards away. I feel like I could look at her, just like this, for hours and not see every detail. When her robe falls back in a soft swoosh, it actually takes me by surprise. I haven’t breathed… and it comes as a rude shock when I do. Too loud in the quiet room.
“May I have an opening offer of fifty thousand,” I hear, and I’m frozen, unable to move. All my attention is on how lovely she is.
“Fifty.” The man who’s currently fucking Dalia raises a finger discreetly.
“Sixty,” I hear myself say, moving to the edge of my seat. I haven’t given any thought to what I would pay. It’s never been an issue before and it sure as hell isn’t now.
“Sixty-five,” I hear from the side of the room. I’m getting irritated and I don’t much care for the sensation. “Seventy-five,” I offer, my voice louder than I usually allow.
“Seventy-nine,” the man with Dalia calls out. I feel a burst of anger inside and respond without thought. That asshole’s already bought two women tonight.
“One hundred thousand,” I call out coldly. He turns to look back at me, but says nothing. For a moment our eyes lock and the mutual dislike is palpable. I know he recognizes me. Everyone does. And I’ve always known exactly what he is…
He’s a fucking lawyer. A goddamned politician. And he’s caused trouble for me and my business more than once. He wants this girl as much as I do, but I’ve just bid more than he can pay. I see it in his eyes.
The sharp sound of Mrs. Sparr’s gavel snaps his head forward again and I give a snort of satisfaction.
I rest my eyes on Eden’s beauty and feel a surge of power and lust. I own her now, and I’ve never enjoyed this feeling more than I do now. I watch as she drops her eyes for the first time to where the audience is sitting. So… she is curious, I think, as she wrinkles her brow, trying to get a look at her new master. I see so many expressions on her face, all at once and in such a rush I can’t identify them all.
But I will, I tell myself, anticipating the night to come. I will see every emotion, every feeling, every thought and des
ire you experience. I will feel everything that I make you feel…
As I stand and move closer to the stage, I watch her face as she gets her first real look at me. Her eyes are wide and sparkle like emeralds. I climb the stairs and stand beside her, looking down at her. I’m enormous next to her slender body.
I won’t touch her, at least not yet. I know she can see the lust in my eyes, and I see her generous bottom lip quiver. I’m fucking hard as shit and I’m pretty sure she knows it. But she doesn’t look away from me.
It’s a huge mark in her favor.
But she doesn’t know the rules yet, and she’s going to have to obey them all. To the letter. No mistakes.
I’m going to have to teach her.
The sooner the better.
3
Eden
It’s over.
But it’s not even started yet…
I swallowed hard and looked up at him. My Master. A man whose name I don’t even know. That I’ll probably never know.
It’s not just the girls here who don’t use their real names. The clients are addressed only by the word Master. Dalia told me that if he likes you, you might be allowed to use his initial too. Or any name he might choose for you to use. It’s all up to the master. He makes all the choices.
I felt my breath, shallow and fast, as I looked up at him. He was powerfully built, wide at the shoulders and tapering to slim hips and muscular looking legs. His hair was black and just touched the top of his collar. But it was those eyes that I couldn’t look away from.
They were steel grey, almost cold in color, but burned somehow too. Like fire, as they watched me. He stood close… so close I could feel the heat coming off him. But he didn’t reach out to touch me. And I knew better than to touch him first. Mrs. Sparr had been explicit… about a lot of things. My mind shot back to the image of Dalia’s master fucking her as she sat on his lap, only moments after he bought her. That man had wanted me too, I thought, as a wave of revulsion ran through me.
The Baby Contract Page 19