"Follow me, honey. We're taking you to the room where you'll be able to listen to the auction as it happens. You'll also be able to grab a bite to eat and get something to drink. I expect you're exhausted after the day's events, and I daresay you won't be getting much sleep tonight either – if your luck's in!" She winked at me, but I didn't smile. I'd lost my sense of humour as soon as my session with Captain Crazy had begun, and I didn't think I'd be retrieving it any time soon.
When I entered the dark room, it was just beginning to fill up with people, and I was told to sit on the floor quietly. There was to be no speaking unless I wished to be gagged again, but I was past that. All I wanted to do was sleep. The adrenaline overload was beginning to take its toll.
Paper cups of water were handed out to all the slaves on the floor, and trays of sandwiches were passed around. I picked up a couple, one ham and one tuna mayonnaise, and ate them slowly. I wasn't really hungry, but it gave me something to do. All around me, slaves were filing in from different doors in their droves. The air of silence all around us was quite unnerving for me, but everyone else seemed very comfortable with it. There was an air of excitement in the room, and everyone's eyes and body language seemed very animated. I guess they were eagerly awaiting the results of the auction, unlike me. How long would it be until the men started bidding? Not too long, I hoped. Crazy Monster had left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth, and I just needed to get this over with.
It was a long twenty minutes and a toilet break, before the audio of the auction came across the loudspeakers. Everyone immediately sat up, and the silence was deafening. There were a lot of rigid backs and tense faces now. Most people had a lot riding on the outcome of this and were beginning to feel the strain.
The higher numbers were auctioned first. The first girl had seven bidders after her, and the figures that were being shouted out had me gasping. The bidding had started at a million pounds and was quickly rocketing skywards. My gaze flickered across from left to right trying to figure out who it was, but no one was giving anything away. When the first slave went under the gavel, she had been sold for forty-five million pounds. That was insane! My lips parted on a gasp as I tried to get my head around that kind of money. Miss Red Pencil dress clapped her hands proudly and went to gather Red, who had been sitting quietly in the centre of the room. She was given a round of applause and then handed over to one of the assistants who led her quickly away. I swallowed painfully. This was really happening.
As the auction progressed, my body wound itself tighter and tighter, until I felt like a coiled spring. Men and women were being sold for incredible amounts of money, and their lives were won and sold in less than two minutes. After an hour, our numbers had thinned considerably, and in two, I was beginning to feel rather lonely. By the third hour, there weren't very many of us left on the carpet, and I knew my moment would be soon.
Desperation had settled in. I felt sick to my stomach and wanted nothing more than to hide away from the world for at least the next week or two. No such luck. The last three girls before me hadn’t received a single bid to their name and it did not bode well. They were obviously more desirable than me as they had been auctioned off earlier, and if there was no hope for them – what chance did I have? My stomach sank twenty leagues below sea level as the number thirty-eight was called, and unlike Red, I did not sit calmly and wait for the bids to come in. I fidgeted like a demented puppy with a new shoe, and by the startled looks I was getting, it was clear I was the new girl. Damned if I cared.
Listening to the auctioneer's voice drone on in the background with only half an ear, I think it was fair to say I had little faith in achieving anything spectacular this evening.
"Gentlemen, we are now coming to our last slave, and we thank you for your patience. The next number on today's list is thirty-eight, and as this girl is a novice, I'll start the bidding at two hundred thousand pounds. Do we have any takers at that price?"
My ears had pricked up as soon as the bidding began but at the long silence that followed the auctioneer’s voice, I wanted to shrivel up and die right there on the carpet. What a disaster today had been. From the start, nothing seemed to have gone right, and it looked like nothing was going to end right, either.
“How about one hundred thousand pounds? Do we have any takers at that price.”
“Yes.” The voice was unmistakeably Nieman’s, and though I had no desire to spend six months with the male version of Paris Hilton, a little something flickered to life inside me. Someone wanted me. Maybe I wasn’t a total failure after all.
"Is there one hundred and fifty thousand anywhere?" There was another long pause which made me feel about three foot tall, but I hadn't expected anything less, so I waited patiently for the gavel to come down. The auctioneer didn't hurry, though. Clearly, he had more faith in me than I had.
“Two hundred thousand.” Now my skin prickled. The voice had not been the auctioneer’s. Oh no. This was Captain Crazy, the man who had walked out on me earlier because I was such a miserable example of a slave. What the hell was going on here?
“Do we have two hundred and fifty thousand anywhere?” This was the auctioneer again, but this time Nieman snapped back immediately, “Yes.” He didn’t sound pleased, as well he might. My price tag had just gone up considerably. The auctioneer then cleared his throat, readying himself for the next increment, but Captain Crazy’s sigh stopped him.
"Five hundred thousand pounds. I'm a busy man, and I'm in a hurry." The auctioneer cleared his throat quickly, and he sounded a little flustered when he asked, "Are there any more bids, gentlemen?" There weren't. I'd been sold to the monster for the bargain sum of five hundred thousand pounds, and the thought scared me witless. When Red Pencil Dress came to collect me, I was shaking like a leaf, and whatever she said to me was lost in the static that now filled my head. Holy fucking crap.
I was led back to my room to await further instructions about my transport arrangements. Cassie and Pencil Dress were effusive with their compliments, as well they might be, but for the most part, I just smiled and ignored them. I'd just earned them five hundred thousand pounds! I still couldn't believe it myself. I'd been sold, and not to just anyone, but to an absolute nutter.
When he’d walked out of the room earlier, I’d been sure that he loathed me. What had changed? What had I missed? What now?
Operatives must remain calm. No one makes a rational decision when they are emotionally charged. So as soon as the door closed and I was left on my own, I took a couple of deep calming breaths, breathing deeply in through the nose and out through the mouth. After a few minutes of light meditation, I managed to get my head back to where it was supposed to be.
Things really weren't that bad. Okay, so my Englishman wasn't Dumortier, and he was a bit heavy-handed, but James would negotiate a six-month contract for me, and then I'd be free to give the auction another go – and next time I'd have a slightly better pedigree. My time would go by in the blink of an eye, and while the Crazy Monster would probably inflict a bit of pain on me, it would be good training – for Dumortier would do all that and more. Besides, the thought of having sex with Nieman turned my stomach. All the Jimmy Choo's on the planet were unlikely to entice me to his bed. My Crazy Monster, on the other hand, already had my attention. My body immediately responded to his, and just the sound of his voice made my hair stand up on end. While he would probably scare me silly, he also turned me on in the worst way, so it would at least be an exciting combination.
They left me to wallow in my own thoughts for a good half an hour before the sound of the door opening alerted me that my time alone was up. Immediately rushing to the floor, I assumed my slave position and waited to see what would happen.
"Up off the floor, sweetheart. It's too far to make you crawl all the way back to the car park, and you've had a long day." The voice was not that of my Crazy Monster, and disturbingly, I felt extremely disappointed. I knew who it was before I even lifted my head up off the floor bec
ause I recognised the accent – it was one of the Krays. Standing up smartly, I smiled weakly at the black suits and followed them out of the door and along endless corridors. It was decidedly weird walking everywhere barefoot. The carpet beneath my feet was soft and warm, but when we hit the vinyl, it was cold and sticky. Thankfully, I seemed to have become desensitised to walking around naked because I hadn't thought of that once. It should probably be cause for concern, but I had too many other things to think about.
When we reached our car, this time it was a black Lexus with heavily tinted windscreens. The door was opened for me, and one of the Krays put his hand on my head to make sure I bent down to enter. It was kind of like being arrested and put in a cop car, but naked. When I sat down, they fastened my seatbelt for me, but I wasn't paying them any attention. There was another naked girl in the back of the car, so Crazy Monster obviously had plenty of money and a voracious appetite. Interesting. Apparently, he had better things to do at the moment, though. It was just the Krays and us in the car.
“Okay girls, there’s some water in the holders at the back, but not much else. The journey isn’t too long, but if you can get some shuteye, I would. The initiation rights of your new abode can be quite intense.” Kray number one winked at us, as Kray number two pulled away from the curb. Okay, so there were two naked girls and two gangsters in a car. What could possibly go wrong?
“Can you tell me where we’re going?” The Krays didn’t seem too unpleasant, so I thought I’d risk a question. If I could get my bearings before we got there, it would help me no end if I had to make a quick exit.
Kray number one turned around and gave me a funny look. “You’ll find out soon enough, love, and aren’t you people taught not to ask questions? You’ll want to be on your best behaviour when you get there, else you’ll suffer. Take my word for it. Now close your eyes and get some sleep. You won’t be getting much this evening, trust me, love.”
That was the last attempt I made at conversation. Instead, I looked out of the windows and tried to figure out where we were by landmarks, although at the moment, there was nothing much around us bar large industrial buildings and concrete. When I became bored of that, I turned and examined the girl to my right.
She was another brunette and proportioned roughly the same as me. Her lips were a little fuller, and her eyes were bright blue. She had a few more curves and was maybe a couple of inches shorter in height. Smiling at the woman, I whispered, "What's your name?" There was no reply, although I waited an exceedingly long time for one. This lady obviously took the silence game more seriously than I did.
Grabbing the bottle of water in front of me, I took a sip and settled back in my seat. Glancing out of the window again I felt my eyes get heavy and the gentle rocking motion of the Lexus did nothing to help me stay awake. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I managed to examine my surrounding for perhaps another five minutes before sleep claimed me in its insistent embrace.
When we arrived, I came to with an unexpected jolt as the car engine was switched off. My eyes desperately blinked off the sticky threads of sleep as I tried to figure out where the hell we were. Looking around me, all I saw was an underground parking lot, and for a moment I thought we were back where we started, but on closer inspection, this one wasn't the same as the last. For one thing, it was much bigger, and for another, there was no orange strip lighting and no marble to be seen. So we were still underground, but we were most certainly somewhere else.
Kray number one was the first person out of the car, and he opened the door and waited patiently for us to get out. Peeling my backside away uncomfortably from the black leather upholstery, I stepped gingerly onto the concrete floor with my bare feet. The girl behind me did the same.
"Follow me." Kray number one didn't bother looking at us again, he just marched off, taking a path to the side of the lot before going through a set of glass sliding doors. Trotting behind him as fast as our legs would carry us, we tried our best to keep up with him. Unlike the darkened interior of the auction house, this place was lit up like a football stadium. There were lights everywhere. I felt incredibly exposed as my feet padded over the bright white tiles beneath me and did my best not to try and cover up all of my exposed assets. There were a hundred and one questions currently buzzing through my head. Who was Crazy Monster? Would I see him soon? Where were we? How long would I be here? Would I be able to cope with everything he threw at me? The only way I would find out anything in here was to keep my eyes and ears open. If I could figure out who was in charge and get up close and personal with them, well – that wouldn't hurt, either.
Unlike the auction room, this time we didn’t need to walk very far. Kray number one pulled open a nondescript white door for us and with a mock flourish of his hand, ushered us inside it. As soon as we went through it, my world tilted on its axis and began spinning out of orbit.
Chapter Thirteen
“Thirty-Eight and Forty-Six, you’re late. Go get some shit on, and follow me.” As far as welcome’s went, it wasn’t great, but it could have been worse. The woman who spoke to us was tall with jet-black hair and pencil thin eyebrows. Her eyes had so much make-up around them, they almost appeared to jump out of her face, and her fingernails were post-box red. She didn’t look like someone I wanted to mess with, so I figured I’d better do as I was told.
Looking all around me, I found myself surrounded by women of all nationalities and ethnic minorities, all of whom were in their twenties or thirties and dressed in little wisps of lace. This lace covering did little to hide any of their best assets - it was merely there to accentuate them.
Grabbing a pair of black panties and a black bra that looked like it might be my size, I wasted no time in putting them on. The new girl did the same, but she was slightly braver than me and opted for bright orange undies, which did look pretty flattering against her beautifully bronzed skin.
When I pulled my panties up my legs, I quickly realised that they weren't of the standard variety. These were crotchless and designed to display all. The bra was just as risqué with a slit down each cup that would reveal both of my nipples. I didn't complain. At least it was some kind of covering. After a day of being completely naked, I'd take anything I could get. Unfortunately, Forty-Six hadn't fared as well. She'd got an open cup bra and three very thin strips of elastic for her lingerie quota. To her credit, she didn't seem at all bothered by this.
As soon as we were ready, everyone started to disappear through a door at the far end of the room. While I had no idea of exactly what to expect, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that there was going to be sex and plenty of men involved. This was going to be my first real test at being a slave, and I just hoped I didn’t falter at the first hurdle.
Not for the first time, I took a second to wonder if this might be Carte Blanche after all. Surely most of the buyers wouldn't have this many girls at their disposal? Maybe the Englishman who'd interviewed me had been standing in for Dumortier? It was possible. I shook my head. Dumortier liked brunettes, and there were blondes, redheads and all variants in-between here. We were probably at some private play party, and I'd be shipped off to my owner shortly. As I wasn't in any hurry to meet Crazy Monster again, I decided I'd make the most of this interlude.
When we walked past the door, we found ourselves in a bar. Men were everywhere. Wealthy men. The kind of men that drove Audi R8's, had a ski-ing lodge in Aspen, and who had a Rolex for every day of the week. Symbols of status and power were everywhere. Discreet little logos on their shirts screamed designer, and the arrogant slant of their face shouted boarding school with a further sprinkling of Oxford or Cambridge. This room would eat women for breakfast, and judging by the almost rabid, leering looks we were getting, they hadn't been fed recently.
“Girls, take a tray of drinks and deliver it to the table indicated. You will be their personal waitress for the evening, so make sure you please your guests in any way they see fit. Poor performance will not be tolerated,
so be warned.”
That told us. I stood in line silently, while the trays were handed out and wondered what fate was about to deliver. I could really do with an easy shift for my first gig, but time would tell. All of the guys here had one thing on their mind, and I might as well get on board with the fact. This is what I had signed up for, after all. Plastering as sincere a smile as I could manage upon my face when it was my turn to take my drinks, I held out my arms and whisked them away smartly.
My beautifully polished silver tray held a glass of whisky with ice, two pints of something that smelled like lager, and a glass of red wine. There was a marker on the rim of the tray that read twelve, and as each of the glossy black plastic tables around me had numbers engraved upon them, it wasn't too difficult to find out where I was headed. Locating my group from several feet away, I discreetly tried to examine the gentlemen from a distance.
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