The Auction

by Claire Thompson

  He considered letting the call go to voicemail, as he didn’t really want to talk to anyone right now, but then he thought better of it. James was a thoughtful man, and not one to rush to judgment. If nothing else, maybe he’d have some advice on how Adam could salvage the situation.

  “Hey, James,” Adam said, connecting the call. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, Adam. Doing fine. I thought I’d check in and see how it’s going. Wasn’t this the weekend you went to that slave auction?”

  “Yep. I went last night. I came home with a beauty by the name of Carly.”

  “And how are things working out so far?” James had been less than enthusiastic when Adam had first told him of his idea to participate in the slave auction, mentioning in his mild, understated way that the arrangement seemed like one that could lead to a whole lot of trouble and complications. Adam had laughed that off at the time, assuring James he could handle whatever came his way. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  Adam cleared his throat. “Uh, okay. You know.”

  “I don’t know.” Adam could hear the smile in James’ voice. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  Adam blew out a breath. “Well, things went well last night. She’s very sexually responsive. I mean, she could be faking, but if so, she has me fooled.” He laughed self-consciously, and then briefly described the auction process, the ride home and the events leading up to the wax play punishment.

  “Sounds like you’re not wasting a moment.” James chuckled. “Amy is very curious to meet your slave girl.” Amy was not only James’ wife, but also his 24/7 slave. When not at work as a physician, she was kept naked and collared, and neither of them would have it any other way. Adam thought of Carly, upstairs and waiting, and his heart gave an uncomfortable lurch.

  “The thing is,” he began, faltering. “I mean, uh…”

  “What is it, Adam? You sound troubled.”

  Adam rubbed his hand over his face. “I fucked up,” he admitted in a rush. “I pushed her too far. I wasn’t paying attention to her signals. Or I didn’t read them correctly. I made her cry.”

  “Did she use her safeword?”

  “No.”

  “Crying’s not always a bad thing, Adam. Sometimes it’s the place a sub needs to go. It’s a kind of culmination, a release of everything that’s going on, like a safety valve. Amy cries all the time after a really big orgasm. It’s almost like laughing, except there are tears, though she insists she’s not sad or hurt. It’s just an overflow of emotion. It’s not a negative thing. In fact, it can be very spiritually freeing, at least that’s what Amy says.”

  Adam sighed. “These weren’t tears of joy, trust me. And it gets worse. I was pissed off, really at myself more than her, though I wasn’t seeing that at the time. The whole relationship is so artificial. I mean, if the word relationship can even be applied here. “I just”—he paused, thinking how he could clean this up, knowing there was no way, so he barreled on—“I just dumped her on the couch and left the dungeon. No aftercare, no nothing. I told her to get herself cleaned up and wait for me in a corner in my bedroom. She’s up there now, at least I suppose she is, if she hasn’t already packed her stuff.”

  James was silent for a moment, while Adam waited for his rebuke. James was very big into aftercare, and had counseled Adam on a number of occasions about its importance in establishing and maintaining an atmosphere of trust and safety necessary in a D/s relationship.

  “This is new for you, Adam,” James finally said. “I’m not sure I could do it, frankly—take that kind of responsibility for a woman I’d never met. It’s sort of like an arranged marriage, if you think about it. But that doesn’t mean you don’t observe the basic conventions of such a union. Yes, you paid for her services, but from what I understand as you’ve described this whole thing, Carly has given herself to you in her promise to obey and submit to you, and that’s very real, even if underlying it there’s a cash transaction. She deserves the same respect and care as any submissive, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Adam said miserably. “I know.”

  “I sense you care for this girl. You want to make this work. You aren’t ready to just cut your losses and start over, are you?”

  “No. No way.” Adam surprised himself with his sudden certainty, but couldn’t deny it.

  “Listen, Adam, just because you’re the Dom, that doesn’t mean you’re perfect. And if this woman is worth her salt, she’ll understand that. How old is she, anyway?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “Old enough to know what she’s getting into, I would think, though at my age, you’re all a bunch of spring chickens.” James laughed. “Seriously, though, she’s old enough to understand that people are human. They fuck up. They can be forgiven. Go to her now and explain the situation. Own up to where you let her down. Tell her how you’ll stop that from happening in the future.”

  Adam stood, nodding. “Yes. Yes, I owe her that much. You’re right. Thank you, James.”

  “Don’t thank me. All I did was mirror back what you were saying. You already knew what to do.”

  They spoke a few minutes longer, and then Adam headed for the stairs, his new resolve urging him on. In the bedroom he saw Carly kneeling in the corner by his bureau, her face to the wall. Her wet hair fell in golden brown ringlets down her back. Her head was bowed, her forehead touching the wall.

  “Carly,” he said softly, stopping a few feet away from her. Abruptly she lifted her head, though she maintained her position with her face to the wall.

  “Yes, Sir?”

  Leaning down, he touched her shoulder. “Stand up. Turn around.” She rose in a fluid, graceful movement and turned to face him, her eyes downcast. The skin on her breasts and torso was blotched pink and red, though whether it was burn marks or just a result of her scrubbing away the hardened wax, he couldn’t say.

  “Look at me.” Adam put a finger beneath her chin, forcing her head up. She met his gaze. Her eyes and the tip of her nose were red, a tear still showing on one cheek. Impulsively Adam reached for it, flicking it gently away with his thumb.

  “Come here,” he said, leading her by the hand to the bed. “Sit beside me. I need to talk to you.”

  “Please,” she blurted. “Don’t send me back. I’ll do anything. I’m sorry I messed up. It won’t happen again, I swear. Please give me another chance.”

  “Carly, listen to me. I’m not sending you back. You didn’t mess anything up. It was my fault. I came up to apologize.”

  “I’m sorry?” Carly looked blank, confusion in her eyes.

  “For what happened up there. Yes, it was a punishment, and yes, you did come without permission, but I pushed you too far. I wasn’t paying the right kind of attention to your reactions. I behaved in a way not suitable for a Dom. And then I left you alone, instead of offering you the aftercare you needed and deserved.”

  Adam realized he was still holding her hand. She was staring at him, her lips parted in surprise. “I let you down, Carly. I let us both down. It’s me who needs to say it won’t happen again.”

  “Oh,” she said softly, and inexplicably her eyes filled again with tears.

  “What, what is it? Don’t cry. I’m the one to blame here. Not you. If you want to be returned to the auction house, I’ll let them know in no uncertain terms that the fault was mine. I’m sure they’ll let you stand for bidding again.”

  “No!” Carly burst out, pulling her hand from his and wrapping her arms protectively around her torso. Normally he would have called her on that, as it was unacceptable for a slave girl to hide her body at any time from her Master, but given the circumstances, he didn’t comment.

  Instead he echoed her. “No?”

  “No,” she said again, her voice pleading. “Don’t send me back. Please, Sir. I have nowhere to go. Oh!” She clapped her hand over her mouth, as if the words she’d just uttered had escaped without her permission.

  Nowhere to go?

  This thought had never e
ntered Adam’s mind, not for a second. Surely she had someplace to go—a job from which she’d obtained a leave of absence, a home or an apartment, family she could return to.

  “I mean,” she added quickly, color washing over her cheeks, “I have this month set aside for this. I want to stay. I want to serve you, Sir. I want to please you.”

  And you want the money, Adam couldn’t help thinking, but really, who could blame her for that? He nodded. “I appreciate that. Here’s what I need from you if this is going to work. Don’t be afraid to use your safeword. I might have given you the wrong impression earlier, but using the safeword isn’t a sign of weakness. It just means I’m pushing you further than you’re comfortable going, and if that’s happening, you need to let me know. You might need your safeword because of the nature of our relationship, because I don’t know you the way I would someone I had been involved with over a period of time. So it’s essential that you communicate with me. If you really want to please me, that’s the way to do it, okay?”

  Carly nodded and then ducked her head, though not before he saw the wounded look in her eyes. What was that about? Deciding he would never understand women, he let it go. “Then it’s settled. Come down and have some lunch. Then we’ll start over. Okay?”

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you.” Slipping from the bed, she knelt prettily in front of him and wrapped her arms around his legs, resting her cheek against his knee. “Thank you,” she whispered again and Adam placed his hand on her hair, feeling the knot that had been tied around his heart for as long as he could remember loosen, if just a little.

  Chapter 7

  After lunch Adam, still contrite over the incident in the dungeon, told Carly she had an hour to do just exactly what she wanted to while he took care of a few things. She had opted for a soak in the Jacuzzi.

  Adam returned to his study, intending to finish going through the financial reports of one of his subsidiaries that wasn’t operating up to snuff. He found himself reading the same half page over and over. Giving up, he was just about to close the files when his cell phone rang. James. It was uncanny how the man knew when Adam needed him, even before Adam seemed to know it himself.

  “Hey, James.”

  “Hey, Adam. Checking in to see how things are going with Carly. Everything good now?”

  “Yeah, I think so, thanks,” Adam replied. “I mean, I apologized and she seemed to accept it but…”

  “But you want to do something more.”

  “Yeah. But I don’t want to come across like some kind of wuss, either. I mean, I am supposed to be the Dom in this thing.”

  James laughed. “Okay, so you’re the Dom. Doms do nice things for their subs. Why don’t you take her out to dinner or something?”

  All sorts of devious ideas instantly leaped into Adam’s head. Then reality intervened. “She has nothing to wear. Not to the kind of place I’d like to take her.”

  “So? A mere detail. You run a multinational company, surely you can handle getting a woman an outfit.” James laughed again, a big rumbling sound that always reminded Adam of a bear, if bears laughed. “What size is she?” James continued. “What’s her coloring? Amy could help. She could select a few items from Saks for you and have them delivered to your house.”

  “Bergdorf Goodman,” Adam said. “I have an account there.”

  Adam agreed to email James the details from Carly’s slave dossier, along with her photos. James always had a knack for cutting to the chase and making the complicated seem suddenly easy.

  With a plan in mind, Adam found himself able to concentrate. He was deeply engrossed in the financial reports when the doorbell rang. Lifting his head from the computer monitor, his first thought was of Carly, somewhere in the house, naked as a jaybird. But of course she would have the sense to stay out of sight. Glancing at his watch, he realized nearly three hours had passed since his call to James. He’d told Carly she had an hour. What in the world was she doing?

  Leaving the study, Adam went to the front door. He tipped the young man holding out the clothing bags and hurried upstairs with them.

  Adam found Carly asleep on the end of the bed, her shiny hair falling in a tumble of curls around her face. He draped the dress bags over the clothing rack and set the additional bags on the floor beside it. Walking toward the sleeping girl, he bent down and gently shook her shoulder.

  “Carly. Wake up.”

  Carly sat bolt upright with a startled cry. “Oh! I’m sorry, Sir! I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep. I was waiting beside the bed but I wasn’t sure when you were coming and then I guess I just lay down for a second and—”

  “Shh, hush.” Adam touched Carly’s lips with two fingers. “It’s okay.”

  He took away his fingers. Carly stared up at him, waiting. “We’re going to go out to dinner tonight. Le Carnard. It’s French and très chic.” He smiled.

  “Dinner?” Carly looked confused.

  “That’s what I said.” He waved toward the clothing rack. “I had a few things ordered for you so you’ll be suitably dressed. There are two dresses there in your size. Pick the one that suits you best. You’ll also find shoes and stockings. The omission of bra and panties is intentional, so don’t bother asking. You’ll find your makup bag in the third drawer down on the left of your sink in the bathroom. You may use it, sparingly. I’ll take care of the rest of your outfit. Come down to my study for inspection when you’re dressed.”

  ~*~

  Adam entered the large walk-in closet, selecting various items of clothing for himself, which he took with him as he left her alone in the master bedroom. Carly sat on the edge of the bed staring at the opaque garment bags with BG stamped on them like a royal crest. She’d browsed at a few Berdorf Goodman year-end sales when she’d been gainfully employed, but even the sales had been too rich for her blood.

  She found herself both pleased and excited at the prospect of his taking her out to a fine French restaurant. She was curious to see what he had picked out for her to wear. Inside the zipped bags she found a chiffon dress of royal blue. The other dress was a simple but elegant black sheath. She tried the dresses on in front of the full length three-way mirror, turning to see herself at all angles.

  The blue dress was pretty, but seemed more like something one would wear to a wedding than to a night out. The black one fit as if it had been tailor-made for her, hugging her figure without being over-tight. It was evident by the poke of her nipples against the silky fabric that she wasn’t wearing a bra, but that couldn't be helped.

  Carly regarded herself in the mirror, touching the red slave collar at her throat. It was soft and narrow enough to pass for a choker, though the ring at its center might make someone wonder. Since Adam hadn't said anything about taking it off, she would leave it in place.

  There were two pairs of shoes as well, and she selected the black sandals with tiny seed pearls embroidered along the sides. The heels were higher than she would normally wear, but this wasn’t about her comfort she reminded herself.

  There was also a black satin garter belt and two packages of stockings, one nude, the other a sheer black. Carly chose the black stockings. They had a shimmery, silky sheen that made her feel very elegant as she slid them over her legs.

  When she presented herself in Adam’s study, he was busy typing something on his keyboard. She stood quietly for a few moments just inside the door, not sure what to do or if he even knew she was there.

  Finally she dared to interrupt. “I’m ready, Sir. For the inspection.”

  Adam typed for a few more seconds and then swiveled toward her. “I was just finishing…” His words trailed off as he looked at her. “My, my. Very nice.” Carly smiled uncertainly, relieved he seemed pleased. She had swept her unruly curls back in a French twist and sprayed them into submission, letting ringlets strategically escape at her neck and temples. Remembering Adam’s directive to use her makeup sparingly, she had used a sheer foundation to smooth away any imperfections, a little blush and mascara
, and just a hint of shimmering pale gold eye shadow.

  Standing, Adam picked up a small cloth bag from his desk and approached her. He was dressed in dark, well-fitting trousers and a showy white button-down shirt with gold cufflinks and an elegant silk tie.

  Opening the bag, he removed its contents, setting the items on the edge of the desk along with a tube of lubricant. Carly saw a slim black butt plug in cellophane wrapping, four silver balls the size of large marbles on a string and a small rubber butterfly vibrator with elastic bands attached to it.

  “You know what all these items are, I presume?” Carly nodded, nearly biting her lip, biting the inside of her cheek instead. Adam held up the butt plug, pulling off the wrapper. “This is quite flexible so you shouldn’t have any problem accommodating it while sitting.”

  Taking the tube of lubricant along with the plug, Adam pulled a large leather ottoman away from the chair against which it was placed. “Lift your dress to your waist and lie down over this ottoman on your stomach. Spread your ass cheeks for me and be still.”

  Carly knelt carefully over the ottoman, mindful of her stockings against the carpet. Reaching back, she spread her cheeks, trying not to clench her muscles in anticipation of the invading phallus. It went in easily, with only the last bit where it flared causing any discomfort.

  “Turn over and spread your legs, your back on the ottoman, feet flat on the floor. Keep your dress up around your waist.” While Carly obeyed, Adam stood and pointed toward the ben wa balls and the butterfly vibrator. “These are a custom-made set. Both the butterfly and the balls have tiny batteries inside, activated by this.” Reaching in the pocket of his trousers, he pulled out what looked like a very small TV remote control with a daisy wheel embedded on one side. When he pressed the on button, the balls vibrated and bounced against the desktop, and the butterfly vibrator hummed quietly beside them.