by B. B. Hamel
Unless he hits me, hurts me, or threatens me in any way that makes me uncomfortable. I can text a number that’s basically my SOS with The Syndicate, and they’ll come help me if anything strange happens. There’s another number that I text just saying that I’m okay, and if I don’t contact them at least once a day, they’ll send someone to check on me.
In short, I’m safe, and I’m about to be some man’s property. I can hear more talking, but I don’t know what they’re saying. I wish I could hear them. I wish I could see them.
What if he’s unattractive? I can fake it, of course. I can handle that. But what if he wants something that I can’t do? It’s possible that I won’t make him happy. I don’t want to fail at this. I have no other options.
“Aria, please turn.”
The voice is sudden and startles me. After a second, I turn around.
“Spread your legs, please.”
I obey, spreading my legs wide.
“Thank you. Turn back around and stand naturally, please.”
I listen again, turning all the way around and get back into my normal stance. I feel strange. I thought I might feel like a piece of meat, but because I can’t see the men that are bidding on me, I don’t really feel like they’re even out there.
But I know they are. This dress, these heels, I never wear this sort of clothing. I’m a simple girl, never had much money. Especially after my demons pushed me into hole after hole and dug me into this pit of bad debt that I find myself in now.
The lights drop off as suddenly as they had come on and a side door opens. I blink, trying to get my vision back, and that man with the ponytail is back.
“This way,” he says softly, taking my arm.
“What happened?” I ask, suddenly panicking. “Did I make a mistake?”
“No,” he says, and I can see that he’s smiling. “Not at all. You did great.”
“Really?”
“Really. I think you’ll be pleased, actually.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.”
He leads me down another hallway, past large paintings and statues, and places me into another room. It’s a lounge room, like the one before, but much smaller and without a bar. There’s one table and some couches.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” he says. “Your client will be in soon.”
“My client?” I ask. “Someone bought me?”
“Someone bought you.”
“How much did he pay?”
The man smiles. “Be patient. He’ll be here soon.”
He leaves and I’m left alone. I sit down at the table, heart hammering in my chest.
Someone really bought me. I have to admit, I never thought someone really would. Not after seeing all those other beautiful girls in the other room. They’re the kind of women that I thought men would want, not a plain girl like me. I’m five foot three and nothing special. My dark hair is thick and long, which I think is my best feature, although boyfriends have told me that it’s my ass. I don’t really know about that. I haven’t had a boyfriend in a few years now. I’m twenty-four, didn’t go to college, and wasted the prime years of my life.
I tap my nails on the tabletop, nervous as hell, not sure what to expect. Frankly, I’m afraid. The man that comes through the door will be the man that owns me for the next month. What if I hate him? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know how I can do this for a whole month. I’m going to be someone’s toy, someone’s property. I’m going to submit to him because I need this money, and this is the best way I could find to get it.
I’m freaking out and I know it, but I can’t help myself. It’s overwhelming and so new. I want to get up and run away, get the hell out, but I know what’s waiting for me out in the real world is much worse.
I need this. It’s that simple. I can’t run away.
As I look up, the door slowly opens. My heart starts to beat erratically out of nerves and I feel like I might faint.
And then he steps into the room.
Tall and broad. Bright green eyes. Handsome as hell. He looks muscular under that perfectly tailored suit. He’s young, maybe in his early thirties, and I can’t help but stare at him.
This is the man who owns me. I know it deep down inside of me. He smiles at me and shuts the door behind him.
This can’t be real. He’s too handsome. He’s way too handsome, and young, and gorgeous, and oh crap, he’s looking at me with this sexy cocky grin that’s driving me insane.
“Hello, Aria,” he says, his voice rich and deep. “My name is Ethan. And I just spent a lot of money to make you mine.”
I can only nod, heart hammering in my chest, and I feel like I might pass out at any second.
3
Ethan
The first time I saw Aria, she was standing in the middle of a stage with lights glowing down all around her.
She looked perfect. That’s the only way I can describe it. The way she folded her hands in front of her and looked nervously at the ground made me instantly fascinated by her. I didn’t expect to actually bid, and really thought I wasn’t going to, not until I actually hit the button and wrote down a number.
The girls before Aria were all beautiful but none of them interested me. I’d seen women like them before, slept with women like them before, and I wasn’t interested in trying them again. They were too confident and too conventionally pretty. Aria was beautiful as well, but in a different way. Her long, thick hair framed her thin, pale face and made her blue eyes that much brighter. I couldn’t help but stare at her body as they had her spin around.
It was totally surreal. I was alone in my own little vestibule with a small computer screen in front of me. I could see the starting bid and I watched as men began to put money down on her. As soon as I saw that other men wanted her, I knew that I had to have her. I couldn’t let some other bastard take her home, not when I couldn’t be sure how they’d treat her.
It was a moment of insanity, but I wrote an absurdly high number and submitted it. There was a pause and then my bid was accepted. No other bids came through, and a minute later I won the auction.
After Aria left the stage, I was escorted out of my room by the same young woman that brought me in there. She took me down a series of hallways and left me outside of a room, saying that Aria is in there and that I can go in any time. She handed me a sheaf of papers with the winning bid amount on it and what appeared to be a contract.
Then she left, and that’s how I find myself standing outside of this room, my heart pounding.
I can’t believe how nervous I am to meet her. I’ve met thousands of beautiful women in my life and slept with a fair number of them, too. But I’ve never felt this nervous before. It’s absurd.
I own her. I bought this beautiful girl to keep for a month. I have responsibilities that were all described to me beforehand, like making sure she’s fed and clothed and made comfortable. She has to be able to contact her people once a day, or else they’ll come looking for her. And they physically check on her a few times as well, to make sure she’s not being abused. If I break terms, there will be consequences, though they didn’t say what kind of consequences.
I don’t plan on hurting her. I don’t know what I really plan on doing with her, to be totally honest. I don’t want to fuck some girl that I bought and who has to do what I want. That’s not fun, not at all.
As I stand there, it suddenly occurs to me what I have to do.
If I’m going to sleep with her, she has to want it. I can’t just take her because I paid for her. There’s no fun in that, and it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable just thinking about it.
I know what I need to do. I have to seduce her. I have to make her want to do it.
That’s going to be hard. She’s an escort and it’s not likely that she genuinely wants to fuck her clients. She’s doing all of this for money, and I have to convince her to do it for sheer pleasure.
I have a month to pull it o
ff. Maybe I’ll even get some companionship out of this deal if she is never seduced. It’ll be hard to know when she truly wants it, since it’s her job to make me feel like she does, but I’m a good judge of character.
It’s how I got so far in business. I can read people and understand what they really want from life. I know how to give it to them and how to take it away. I have to assume that I’ll be able to see through her bullshit and truly understand when she wants me and when she’s just putting on a performance for the man that bought her.
I can feel my nervousness slowly recede as I begin to plan how I’m going to do this. I feel good having an idea and there’s an excitement coursing through me, beneath all the uncertainty.
I haven’t felt excited in months, not since work got insanely busy. But now I feel it, deep down in my core, and I can’t wait to see what I can do with this woman. With my new toy, my Aria.
I take a deep breath then open the door. I shut it softly behind me before facing her, a grin spreading out across my face.
She’s gorgeous. Way more fucking gorgeous in person. She looks about as nervous as I felt standing outside, which makes me feel so much more comfortable. She’s smaller than I expected, too, which I really like. I like that I am physically dominant and larger than she is. I love her small, perky breasts and her hips and her thick ass, her body is perfect.
And I love the look on her face. This is the first time she’s actually seeing me. I bet she expected some old, fat rich guy with no hair and halitosis. Instead, she’s getting me, and I can tell she already likes it.
“Hello, Aria,” I say. “My name is Ethan. And I just spent a lot of money to make you mine.”
She nods, her eyes wide. She looks like she might pass out, so I pour her a glass of water from the side table and place it in front of her. She takes a few sips before putting it back down.
“Thank you,” she says.
I put out my hand and she places hers in mine. We shake softly. “Good to meet you,” I say.
“You too,” she answers, looking away.
I sit down across from her and place the contract down on the table between us. There are pens in a small holder at the edge of the table and I can’t help but smile to myself. These people are professionals.
“Are you nervous, Aria?” I ask her, knowing the answer.
“Yes,” she admits. I find that endearing.
“Why?”
“I’ve never done this before.”
I raise an eyebrow, a little surprised. “Never?”
“Never,” she confirms. “I’ve never been an... escort before.”
Interesting. I lean back in my chair and watch her, studying her. She does look more nervous than I expected and she’s having a hard time making eye contact, probably from her nervousness. Finally, I get her to look at me, and she smiles.
“What?” she asks.
“Just looking at you. You’re not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “This is my first time, too.”
“Really?” She sits up. “You’ve never bought an, uh, escort before?”
“Never,” I say. “You’re my first.”
“Well then. I’m glad we can do this for the first time together, then.”
“Me too,” I say. She smiles and I can’t help but feel warm toward her.
“What’s this?” she asks, taking the contract.
“I’m not totally sure. I think we’re supposed to sign it.”
She starts reading over it and I study her as she does it. Her eyes narrow a bit and she subvocalizes ever so slightly. That suggests to me that she needs glasses normally, and they probably wouldn’t let her wear them. I make a note of that for the future.
She looks up at me and smiles, blushing. “You’re watching me,” she says.
“Sorry. Does that make you uncomfortable?”
“No, I mean, this is just weird.”
I laugh. “Very weird,” I agree.
“Did you read this yet?”
“Not yet. I glanced at it in the hallway. Most of it seems like pretty standard legal stuff, NDA and the like.”
“NDA?”
“Non-disclosure agreement. I use them a lot.”
“What do you do?” she asks, cocking her head.
“I founded World Line. Have you heard of it?”
She perks up again. “I know that company. You guys manufacture a bunch of stuff. Lots of medical equipment.”
“That’s right. I’m surprised you know that.”
“I wanted to be a doctor for a long time.”
“What happened?” I ask, and regret it immediately.
She looks down at the contract. “Life,” she says, and I feel like an asshole. She goes back to reading, the moment lost between us.
What a stupid question to ask. I know she’s clearly not a doctor, though I can’t help but wonder why she’s doing this. From what I can tell, she’s normal, though very attractive and intelligent. I don’t know her at all though, and people have their reasons. It’s just another mystery I’ll have to unravel. I want to get to know the real girl sitting across from me, not just the girl she’s going to pretend to be. I don’t want her to be some slave that makes me happy. I want to own her completely, not just because I’ve spent money on her.
It’s a dangerous feeling, but I can’t help myself. She finally makes it through the contract and signs her name at the end before spinning it around toward me.
“Thanks,” I say.
“You’re welcome.”
She watches me as I start reading. I glance up twice before smiling at her. “Your turn to watch me?” I ask.
“Exactly.”
I can’t help but grin and she smiles back. “I’ve tasted my own medicine and it is bitter.”
She laughs. “A friend of mine used to say that a long time ago.”
“It’s a good one.” I flick the pen, twirling it around my fingers, an absent-minded gesture. “Go ahead and watch if you want. We might as well get comfortable with each other.”
“Good point,” she says, and puts her chin in her hands. “Don’t be shy, Ethan. I’ll just sit here quietly, judging and such.”
I laugh and shake my head. She’s clever and funny once you get past her nervousness.
I go back to the contract and begin to read.
The Syndicate
Herein, Ethan Locks (“The Client”) and Aria Taylor (“The Seller”) enter into a legally and emotionally binding contract with The Syndicate. Breaking of any stipulation, in spirit or in letter, results in a voiding of this contract. Consequences will be swift and merciless. Nothing protects a bastard, a cheat, or a thief.
The Client agrees to provide all basic needs to The Seller for the duration of the contract, here listed as One Month. The Client agrees not to harm The Seller without her consent. The Client agrees to allow The Seller to contact The Syndicate at least once a day, and The Client will submit to all inspections by The Syndicate.
The Seller agrees to obey The Client unless it risks her safety. The Seller agrees to do everything in her power to satisfy The Client. This includes but it not limited to sexual favors, housework, emotional comforts, public displays, gifts, and so on. The Seller is owned by The Client and is bound to do her duty.
The contract goes on from there, dropping into ever more legalistic jargon, but that opening is fascinating. It’s unlike any contract I’ve ever seen, and the bit about thieves and retribution is fascinating. The Syndicate is obviously a serious and professional group just based on their facilities, but this contract hints at something much more.
I skim the rest of it. Everything seems standard, laying out NDA clauses, liability clauses, and finally payment. The amount I bid on her is listed there at the bottom. I smile and turn the page toward her.
“Did you see this?” I ask.
Aria glances down and looks back up at me. “I did,” she admits.
�
��How does that make you feel?”
She pauses for a second, clearly searching for words. Finally, she says, “I’m not worth that much money.”
I stare, surprised. I didn’t expect that response, but it hints at something much deeper to her.
“You’re worth more than two million,” I say.
“Maybe,” she says, looking away.
I watch her for a moment then turn the contract back to me. I flip to the last page and sign it, not needing to read the rest of it.
That moment sealed it for me. I have to have this girl. I need her. I want her more than I could ever have imagined. Not just because I’m paying two million dollars for her, but because she fascinates me. The money is nothing. But her submission, her obedience, her genuine seduction... that’s worth it all.
Once the pages are signed, the door suddenly opens and the young woman steps inside. “Are you all ready, Mr. Locks?” she asks.
“I am,” I say, standing.
“Good. Please, bring that contract and follow me.”
I look at Aria and she smiles at me. “See you later,” I say.
“Yeah. See you.”
I smirk at her for a second longer then turn and follow the woman out of the room.
My heart is hammering and I don’t know what’s going to happen from here. I just signed that insane contract and now it’s official. I’m going to pay these people then take Aria home with me.
I own her. She’s mine. I bought her for an absurd sum of money and I get to do whatever I wish with her for one month.
And I wish to seduce her until she’s begging for me, genuinely begging for me, out of her mind with desire.
4
Aria
I feel better as soon as I get a chance to change into normal clothes.
Meeting Ethan for the first time made me feel things I never expected. He wasn’t at all what I assumed he’d be. He’s interesting, attractive, smart, and funny. He made me feel comfortable, despite that one tiny blip in the conversation. I actually found myself wanting to be around him, and not just because I’m getting paid.