by Trent Evans
A higher pitched moan, then the sound of breath rasping from her lungs.
“Got it,” Kearney said. “I … can’t believe it.”
“Wait till you see her between the shafts, man. Make this look like child’s play.”
“Now?”
“Later.” There was the sound of snaps being fastened, and a sharp intake of breath. “She needs to rest a little while, yeah?”
“What do I do with … this?”
Johan’s laughter boomed once more. “Just set it down next to her. No, where she can see it. I want her to think about what’s coming next, man.”
“Are there more?”
“Girls?” She could hear the smile in Johan’s voice. “Sure — there’s usually at least a few more at the auctions. I’ve seen more than ten, occasionally. Depends on the bidders and … the selection.”
Auctions?
Breanna’s mouth went dry. She needed Kurt. Now.
Chapter Two
The kitchen was as quiet as it was dark, only a single fixture splashing warm light down onto the oak surface of the round table shoehorned into a small nook. Derek sat down, shrugging off his coat.
Kurt set a beer on the table, popping the top before taking a seat across from him. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually come out.”
“When I got a look at the map, I almost didn’t.”
“Sometimes it’s better not to be in the city.” Kurt leaned back, his chair creaking. “Less attention.”
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“Any plans on telling me why ‘attention’ would be a problem for you?”
“They told me it was too soon, you know.” Kurt scratched his cheek. “But I knew you’d work out.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
This was going to be a very long talk if Kurt was going to be evasive the whole time.
“The Trust.”
“Who?”
Kurt twirled his bottle in his hand, the sound surprisingly loud in the stillness of the kitchen. “You’ve been wondering where I get off to that one weekend a month, right?”
“That’s … The Trust?”
Kurt’s nod was slow, his eyes never leaving Derek. “I’ve been trying to keep it at one weekend a month, but I’ve waited as long as I can. It’s time for me to make a choice. Which is why I’ve brought you here.”
Derek rubbed his neck. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been craning his head forward as he’d driven through that thick fog, and he was feeling it now.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”
Derek snorted. “I’m not your type, pal.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, dickhead.” Kurt’s lips quirked. “You’re safe with me. Now, with others around here …”
“Dude, I don’t care what it is. I mean to collect.” Derek sat forward, his face washed in the warm brightness of the light. In a different setting, it might have felt menacing, like the light of an interrogation chamber. Here it just lent an air of mystery that Kurt seemed to enjoy cultivating. “Time to spill it. Why the fuck are we here? And where do you go that mystery weekend every month? And don’t tell me it’s civil war reenactments or some shit like that. I’ll unfriend your ass, right here.”
Kurt’s deep chuckle set Derek at ease. “How long have you wanted to fuck my wife, Derek?”
He almost choked on his beer, coughing against his fist, the fizz burning his nose. “What the hell are you talking about, Kurt?”
Kurt tipped his own beer at Derek. “You don’t have to deny it. How long?”
Shit.
“If I tell you what I really think, you’re gonna pop me. I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Tell me. If you think I’d hit you over that, then we’ve got more work to do than I’d guessed.”
“Kurt, look—” Derek leaned his chair back onto two legs, hoping it conveyed a relaxation he didn’t feel “—Breanna’s attractive. Of course. But … no.”
“I need you to be honest here, Derek.” Kurt took a drink from his beer. “What I’m going to show you tonight requires it.”
“Fine.” Derek swiped a hand over his mouth. “I think she’s hot. Have for … awhile.”
His ass was already potentially in a sling. Best not to tell Kurt exactly how long he’d felt this way about the man’s wife.
“Good! I knew it, of course. But I just wanted to get this out of the way.”
“You’re not … pissed? At all?”
A sly smile creased Kurt’s lips. “Why would I be? She’s beautiful. I don’t blame you. And it just makes things … easier. A lot easier.”
“For what?”
“I’m going to ask you a few things. Might make you a little uncomfortable, at first.”
“You mean more uncomfortable than asking me if I wanted to bang your wife?”
“Just bear with me. This’ll start to make sense in a bit. I just hope you don’t peel out of here once that time comes.”
All of this should have freaked Derek out. Yet it didn’t. He had to know what the hell was going on here. What would make his friend keep everything so secret? Sure, it was probably going to end up being something he’d rather not even know about, but at this point in Derek’s life, he was starting not to care. A man with nothing tying him to his life is eventually going to be open to changing a few things up.
By the sounds of Kurt’s initial questions, those changes might be coming sooner rather than later.
“Before we go any further, I need one thing from you.” Kurt sat forward, laying his elbows on the table, the fingers of his big hands laced together. The light from above rendered his eyes into black hollows below his brow. “Secrecy. What I’m going to show you tonight, you can’t talk about with anyone who isn’t part of The Trust.”
“Kurt, come on man—”
“I’m serious, Derek. I gotta have your word, or I send you on your way.” Kurt smiled. “I don’t want to have to send you away. Once you see — really see — then you won’t want to be anywhere else.”
“All right, you’ve got it.”
“I want to hear you say it. What you see here tonight — and in the days ahead. Not a word.”
The days ahead? What the fuck?
“You’ve got my word, Kurt.”
With an audible sigh, Kurt leaned back in his chair. “Can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you say that.”
“Now are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Soon.” Kurt stood, walking back into the kitchen. “You want another beer?”
“I’m probably gonna need it.”
“You have no idea, pal.”
For the second time that night Derek felt as if he’d reached a crossroads — and for the second time he felt like he was plowing blindly ahead, no idea where his path was leading, but knowing that no matter what he had to find out what was at the end.
“Are you into kink, Derek?”
The front two legs of his chair dropped to the floor with a thunk. “Uh, what?”
Kurt slipped back into a chair, hanging an elbow over one of the arms. “You heard what I said. You know, kink. Dominance, submission. Whips and chains. That kinda shit.”
Derek’s mouth had gone so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of gym socks. “You mean … shit man. I don’t know if this — do we really need to talk about this?”
“Actually, we do.” Kurt slid the bottle across the table, the perspiration running down the silver label on a slow meandering track. “You’re gonna have to get over this. And quick.”
Derek snatched at the bottle, sucking down half of it in one, hard draught.
“Have you ever say, spanked a girlfriend? Tied her up? Anything like that?”
The look on Kurt’s face seemed almost comically serious, but the set of his jaw said he really wasn’t kidding. At all.
“Yeah. No big deal, but yeah. So?”
“I’m glad to hear that, actually. Makes this easier, I think.”
“Makes wha
t easier?” Derek slammed his bottle down. “Jesus, just tell me, dude. This is crazy-town now. Spit it out. I kinda need to know what I’ve given my sworn-to-secrecy word on, right?”
“Some of the stuff you’re going to see tonight is going to … well, it’s probably going to freak you out, at first. But I need you to understand, to know, that it’s okay.”
“That it’s okay?”
Derek pictured someone being shot, and Kurt whispering to him: “It’s all going to plan. This is okay.”
“Yes, this place, and its role in The Trust — it’ll seem overwhelming at first, but once you get over that, you’ll see it for what it is.”
“And that would be?”
“Heaven on Earth, for men like you and me.”
What the fuck?
“So why did you ask the sexual stuff? Why does that matter?”
Even as he asked the question, he wasn’t sure he was ready for the answer.
“Because what happens here is highly sexual. And Breanna’s part of it.”
“How is she part of it?”
Kurt was silent a moment, his eyes narrowed. “She’s scheduled to be put up for a term.”
“Care to explain what in God’s name that means?”
Somehow, a part of him already knew. And though he screamed at himself inside, his cock came almost instantly to attention.
“Breanna has agreed to be auctioned for a term of service. Every few months, the Trust holds auctions at various locations — and this one, my house, is the site for the North American region.”
Derek felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, his lips moving like a landed fish, but words — and breath — seemed to fail him. “I … don’t — auction?”
“Yes.”
“Dude, are you fucking with me here? You’re talking about an actual auction?”
“Yes.” Kurt’s fingers drummed the worn wood of the tabletop. “I was planning on having you watch it, if you think you can handle it.”
“Okay … an auction.” Derek squinted at his friend. “Women? Being sold? Like …”
“Like animals. Yeah, I suppose that’s accurate.” Kurt’s voice grew quieter, more measured. ”Does that sound like something you’d be able to deal with?”
“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t severely fucked up.” Derek ran fingers through his hair. “But since I’m already halfway down the rabbit hole I may as well jump all the way in. I’m gonna need a lot more beer though.”
“That’s the spirit,” Kurt said, smiling. “Beer first, then on with the show.”
Kurt retrieved another couple of bottles, pressing one into Derek’s hand. “Just try to be cool, if you can. Might make the host look bad if you run screaming.”
“Thanks, I’ll try to remember that.” Derek scooted his chair back, the legs screeching on the wood. He stood, tipping his beer bottle at Kurt. “Just get it over with, okay? Let’s go see what this is. Then I’ll know if it’s time to have my head examined.”
Kurt gave him a crooked grin. “You won’t be wondering that. You’ll be kicking yourself, and wondering why I didn’t invite you here sooner.”
As he followed Kurt out the front door, Derek considered for a fleeting moment if he shouldn’t just get the fuck out of there. Now.
Chapter Three
“Time for the show, little fulana.”
Lino.
Lost in the blackness of her blindfold, she’d been so engrossed in the growing cacophony in the barn around her, that she hadn’t even noticed the door of her own stall opening. It seemed as if once the two strange men in the stall next door had finished, landing hearty slaps to the sniffling Simona’s hide, the place seemed to teem with people. In mere minutes, the barn filled with the sounds of footsteps on the floorboards, curses, growled male tones, slaps, feminine gasps — and the occasional sob — and the unmistakable sounds of leather striking flesh.
She’d gained personal experience with it during her first visit to this very same place, and she knew without a doubt that she’d never forget the sound— or the pain.
Lino’s hand stroked her cheek, fingertips brushing her earlobe. “I see the show poor Simona put on has affected you?” His fingers grabbed hold of a nipple through her blouse, twisting it cruelly. “Your turn will come soon — and then I think you won’t be so eager, yes?”
His hands untied her bonds, the leash yanking upward. She rose, obeying the pull.
“I look forward to seeing these again.” A hand crushed the soft weight of her breast in a cruel grip. “So big, so round. Wait until the bidders get a look at these. You’ll wish for the tender mercies of Lino then, I think.”
Don’t reply, don’t reply. It just makes it worse.
“Tough woman, eh?” She felt his warm, cigarette tainted breath on her cheek. “You won’t be so tough under the bright lights. Just like last time. Your cries were like a lamb’s.”
“Fuck you, Lino.” She knew it would cost her, but she couldn’t let that one slide.
Brightness flashed behind her left eye and her face rocked to the side, the slap cracking like a pistol shot, her cheek burning.
“Hold your tongue in here, fulana. You’ve been told this before.” He grasped her leash close to the attachment at the collar, shaking her. “Do that again, and you go into the pens with a gag between those pretty lips. You don’t want that, I assure you. The bidders don’t like it when the mouth is unavailable. They need to see what they have to work with.”
Her heart galloping, the tug of the leash led her through the barn, the sounds all around her now. She yelped as a hand slapped her ass, surprising her, Lino growling a curse at her in Spanish.
She felt heat above her and her shoulder brushed against a rough wood surface, then some sort of bar pressed across the front of her upper thighs. Lino pushed her firmly against it. Her hands were bound to the bar by way of leather straps wrapped round and round her wrists.
She wasn’t going anywhere now.
“Do as you’re told, fulana.” Fingers squeezed her face, turning it toward Lino’s voice. “If anyone touches you, do not resist. You are here for them. You obey the commands they give. You keep that mouth shut. If anyone complains that you speak, it’s the gag.”
This was different than last time too. A shudder ran through her, even as she felt the uncoiling of lust deep in her belly. On her inaugural visit to this dark place, there’d only been a few men. Their use of her had been relaxed, almost leisurely, and Kurt had been there for every minute of it. The fact that he was with her while those anonymous men used her had given her comfort, given her strength — and if she were brutally honest with herself — it had turned her on too.
Sometimes a submissive woman needs to be careful what she wishes for when confessing a fantasy to her Dom.
Lino patted her cheek then let her go, the noise getting louder all around. She flinched at a sharp report somewhere off to her right, strained female whimpers following it. There were murmurs behind her, then she froze at a touch so light to her shoulder it felt but a tickle.
“Is she up for a term then?” The voice was female, shockingly, the tones smooth, cultured, with perhaps a not entirely submerged English accent.
“According to the roster Lino sent out, yes.” The male voice grunted. “Something tells me you’re going to need to put up a pretty penny to get your hands on this beauty though.”
A hand molded over the curve of her ass. “Pity she’s still got her clothes,” the female said. “Seems little point to put them in the pens if they’re covered.”
“Yes, well, let’s have a look at the others. I marked her down, so we can come back to her if we need to.”
Soft lips pressed to Breanna’s ear. “I can’t wait to see you up there, my beauty.”
She shuddered as the strange couple moved on. She’d never even entertained the possibility of being touched, let alone used by a woman. She and Kurt had never talked about it specifically, but she knew — no matter how mu
ch the thought unsettled her — that if Kurt decided she’d be with a woman, then that’s what she’d have to do. There was really no questioning it.
It would distract you, wouldn’t it? Afraid to face what you really want?
She’d mentioned it in passing to Kurt weeks ago, and his reaction had been a revelation. Not only hadn’t he been jealous, he’d actually seemed … open to the idea. She remembered floating through the rest of her day, head in the clouds, her pussy on slow burn as she foolishly daydreamed about the idea. When Kurt informed her she’d be put up for her first term though, she’d nearly crashed, not anticipating the possibility of not bringing that fantasy to life.
It was one of the hardest, and at the same time most pleasurable, part of their arrangement, that possibility, indeed the likelihood that she’d be called upon to do whatever Kurt commanded — even if it wasn’t something she particularly wanted. It clashed with her naive fantasies of submission. In her fantasies, she’d always get to explore her needs, always had a choice to submit, and most of all, always got to come.
The life of a real sub, and especially that of a slave, was quite different. And really, surprisingly, she found she liked it that way. It was part of what she needed, what she’d known she’d found in Kurt. That immovable force, that male presence that would form her to his specifications, bend her will to his stronger one, and lead her on a journey into the deepest depths of her needs, her desires — and her fears.
Nearby, the sounds of a woman’s low panting snapped her out of her reverie. Then there was a muffled slap, and another, followed by a lost moan. For the thousandth time she cursed the blindfold. Though she had no desire to be touched by a woman, she could admit to herself that watching another woman being put through her paces held a dark fascination for her. Was it because she imagined herself in the poor female’s place, or was it something deeper that she wasn’t yet prepared to examine?
Absurdly, she thought she heard the sound of a … gavel?
Dear Lord.
“The session will come to order.” The gavel sounded again several times. “Take your seats, please. We’ve much to discuss.”