The worse part about it is that I crave it. I get wet just thinking about it. How fucked is that? I don’t know what’s wrong with me, wanting him to whip me so hard. He never breaks skin, and it’s never more than I can take. I think I only crave it so much because after he’s done, he holds me, soothing my pain and then fucks me, giving me intense pleasure and showing that he forgives me.
But in the end it doesn’t solve anything. We both know that I’m still going to deny his collar and refuse to be with him outside of Club X. I rub my temples as they suddenly begin to pound. Just thinking about how fucked up this all is makes my head hurt.
I feel a slight nudge against my side and look down into clear brown eyes. Toby’s walked over and placed his toy at my knees as if he senses my discomfort. I feel a twinge of guilt as I look at him, as if my relationship with Isaac is a betrayal of my covenant with my dogs. Our whole relationship relies on kindness, gentleness and nurturing, while my relationship with Isaac is a dark, twisted thing, meant to sate my deepest desires.
“Come on, Toby,” I say with a sigh, climbing to my feet. Other nearby dogs rush to my side, hip to the routine. “Let’s go inside. It’s your dinnertime.”
I’m followed back inside the shelter by a pack of yelping, barking and excited dogs, my mood lifting slightly. I huff a small laugh, patting Toby’s head as I open the door.
Seeing all their excited, furry faces around me makes me feel fuzzy inside. They depend on me. They need me. They don’t care that I’m being whipped by a man at night. They love me unconditionally.
After penning each of them and giving them their food, I grab a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush to go about sanitizing the toys. As I scrub, my thoughts stray back to Isaac.
My owner. My master.
He wants me to depend on him, for me to need him. I look up at the sound of one dog barking and think about how it’s similar in some ways. I shake my head, sighing heavily and wanting to scream in frustration.
I am not a fucking dog, and I should not be comparing our relationship to this.
My phone beeps, distracting me and bringing me back to the moment. Thank fuck. I clear my throat, dry with emotion, and stand up from the floor where I was washing the dog toys and walk over to the counter, grabbing my phone out of my purse. I bring up the screen and my heart drops slightly in my chest. It’s a text from my mom. My breath tightens in my throat as I read.
Hey honey, the family is getting together for Christmas Eve. I would really, really like to see you this time around… and so would everyone else. Can you please come home?
Love,
Mom
I drop the phone back to the counter as the sounds of dogs barking in the background assault my ears, increasing the pounding in my temples. I really don’t want to go. I hate that I feel this way, but I just can’t bring myself to put myself through it. They all look at me like I’m broken, and worse than that, when I look at them I feel broken. It fucking shreds me.
What could I actually talk about if I went, anyway? Living in filth and absolute squalor, being whipped by a sadistic man while in chains? Or about how I found a new Master and how I’m grappling with the decision of giving him a 24/7 power exchange? I shake my head, desperately wishing I had something to make this headache go away. There’s no way they’ll ever understand.
I look back to my cell’s screen and feel a heavy weight settle on my chest. I know my mother is hurting, and I know she wants to see me. If I tell her no after I’ve been avoiding her all this time, who knows how she might take it. I don’t want to disappoint her, but at the same time, I just don’t want to see them.
Sighing, I pick up the phone and type out a response. I figure if worse comes to worst, I can always use the dogs as an excuse. They always need me. It’s easy to hide behind work and pretend like it’s not them. It’s not the reminder of where I was, and what life was like before they took me.
I’ll do my best to try to make it. But I can’t make any promises.
Love you
Kat
As I hit send, the doorbell chimes at the entrance. I hear the click of heels against the concrete floor and smell a sweet floral fragrance before I see her. I blink in surprise as Madam Lynn steps up to the counter, her hair pulled up into an elegant bun, her piercing eyes framed by wispy bangs. She looks totally out of place here, dressed in a designer black and white color block dress with a glittery black belt at its center, her heels a glossy white patent leather. She’s stunning.
I part my lips with surprise, my pulse racing in my chest. What in the world is she doing here? For a moment, I worry that I’ve done something wrong, violated some obscure rule of the club. “Madam Lynn-” I begin.
“You’re going to walk onto a stage upstairs in my club,” Madam Lynn tells me in a voice throbbing with authority.
Unconsciously I take a step back, my eyes wide. I’ve never heard or seen her act like this before, but the way she’s looking at me, her eyes filled with an intensity that makes my skin prick, I know she means business. I feel relieved that she isn’t here to tell me that I’m in trouble or that I’m being prosecuted for violating something I hadn’t been aware of.
“I’m sorry?” I ask her, not understanding what she’s talking about.
“It’s time to take a leap of faith, Katia. You know you need it. Stop hurting Isaac, and stop hurting yourself. You’re going up for auction.”
My hand goes to my throat, gently tracing over my scars and I find myself answering, “Yes,” almost as if against my will. I’m still shocked more than anything. Madam Lynn has taken time out of her busy schedule of running the club to visit me at my shelter. I never anticipated this.
“You’re going to stand there and offer yourself to be owned for one month,” Madam Lynn continues, and her voice is full of power. “You will be sold. And you will go through with your end of the contract.”
I tremble as her words wash over me, my limbs going weak over the realization. I need this. I know I do. And Madam Lynn knows it. I should do as she says, but I’m terrified.
The sharp edge in Madam Lynn’s voice draws my attention back to her. “You are going up for auction, do you hear me, Katia?” She leans forward slightly, her elbows on the counter, her sunglasses in her hands tap, tap, tapping against the counter. “I don’t do this usually. You’re an exception.”
The way she says it makes my eyes fall.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t like to see relationships fail when they could be so successful. Some people need a push, some a swift kick in the ass, and some need to be told exactly what to do.”
I take in a shuddering breath, at a loss for words. I know I should say yes; I’ve already been thinking about it. It will force me to commit. Kiersten was just asking me last night if I’d consider doing it, and now this.
She suggested I donate half of the money I received from the auction to an abused dog shelter, and half to the women’s shelter I was at temporarily. I could finally give back. I’ve always wanted to.
“Katia.” Madam Lynn’s voice is so powerful, I’m shocked to my core to see tears in her eyes. I thought I imagined the emotion in her emails. We sent them back and forth for a week or so. And I truly felt connected to her, why, I’m not sure. I knew she cared about me on some level, but her display of emotion clutches my heart. There’s no way I can bring myself to deny her request. “You cannot treat your Master like you are.” She shakes her head slightly, her voice hushed and cracked. “You cannot continue to deny him. Worse, you’re denying yourself.”
“He’ll be angry with me, won’t he?” I whisper, clutching my throat. How could he not be? If I were to make myself available for another? He would be furious.
“To be given the chance to ensure your possession for one month?” She shakes her head, but keeps her eyes on mine. “No, he will be grateful. You will please him.” She puts her sunglasses back on, making her look chic and confident, and hiding the fact that she wa
s nearly in tears a moment ago. “He already knows. You will do this. By pleasing him, you help yourself, Katia.”
“If I do this, I don’t want anyone else to have a chance to buy me,” I blurt out, my heart racing. I won’t go to anyone else. I don’t want to. There’s no one else that I want to give my power to. “It has to be Isaac.”
Madam Lynn is quiet for several moments, studying my face. “I’ll make sure of it,” she reassures me. She reaches across the counter and gently pats me on the hand. “Everything is going to turn out fine. You’ll see.”
As she bids me farewell and walks out of the shelter, her fragrance wafts through the air, leaving me wondering how I can possibly go through with this.
Chapter 15
Isaac
Dec. 15th.
“I will fucking murder you,” I say in a low threatening tone as Zander picks up his paddle.
“I’m only holding it. What’s the big deal?” he asks with a shrug.
Cocky fucker. He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, and everything’s a game to him. He’s a good man with a big heart, and I owe him more than I can ever return. But I will seriously smash his pretty boy face in with my fist if he bids on my kitten.
“I think he’s just fucking with you,” Lucian says quietly, although there’s a trace of humor in his voice. He’s a lucky fucking bastard, I think as I stare at his hard jaw and handsome smirk. Dahlia is his, only his, and he’s keeping her. He bought her here a month ago, but she loves him. She’ll never leave him.
And why would she? He’s worked his way from the bottom to the top. He wants a family--fuck, he has one to give her, if he wanted to. His parents are dead to him, but he has a sister who already loves Dahlia. He has wealth and a normalcy I’ll never have. I’m sure in only a few years, they’ll be a happy family, complete with children.
He’s not haunted by the fact that he watched his own mother die. While he did nothing.
He’s not a murderer.
I am. I’ll never be anything more than that.
What’s worse? I don’t want anything other than this relationship with Katia. I only want the exchange between a Master and Slave. I’ve never known anything else. And I never will.
I may be able to buy Katia now. She may learn to love being my kitten. I’ll make sure of that. But one day she’s going to want more. I know she will. I’ll just need to end it before she realizes it.
“I still don’t understand why you even let her participate,” Lucian says.
“There’s no collar on her neck. He has no say.” I grit my teeth at Zander’s immediate response. As the last word comes out of his mouth, he catches my glare and at least has the decency to seem apologetic.
Lucian shoots him a look, and I fucking hate it. It’s the same look everyone’s been giving me. I’m hung up on a woman who refuses to wear my collar. I have ideas of what they think about her going up on stage.
The first being that she wants someone else.
The second that it’s a punishment given to her, to give her to someone else for a month.
Both situations have happened before between couples in the club.
A few have gone to auction monthly. The Dominant purchasing his Submissive each time, like a game. Role playing of sorts. A fucking expensive one with bidding starting at 500K.
Of course, none of that is true for my Katia.
I owe Madam Lynn for this. I don’t know how I’ll repay her, but I will.
I tap my foot anxiously on the ground as I wait in the darkened room upstairs where the small stage is. There’s red and black everywhere with small circular tables covered in pure white linens.
It reminds me of a burlesque room, only the show is the women, allowing themselves to be auctioned.
I glance at the pamphlet I was given when I walked in.
There are strict guidelines that must be adhered to by both buyer/seller to gain entry and to continue membership.
Membership is one hundred thousand per month and allows members to attend auctions and enjoy all the privileges of membership.
All parties are clean and agreeing to sexual activities and must provide proof of birth control.
The women are displayed and purchased in an auction setting with a starting bid of five hundred thousand. Subsequent bids will be in increments of one hundred thousand dollars.
NDAs are required, and paperwork will be signed after the purchase.
Any hard limits are noted at auction and will be written in the individual contracts.
The rose color of the Submissive indicates her preferences, so please take note.
Pink - Virgin
Cream - Finding limits/BDSM virgin
Yellow - Simple bondage D/s
Black - Carte blanche
Red - Pain is preferred S/M
No flower - 24/7 power exchange
The buyers must adhere to all rules of the club, or they will be banned and prosecuted. The Submissives must also obey all rules, or buyers can take legal action and no money will be paid.
With the accepted terms and conditions, the willing participants of this auction are as follows.
I turn the page, and there she is. She's the first one tonight.
A large movement at the entrance to the room makes me turn. My blood runs cold. Joseph Levi. He looks me in the eyes behind his mask before taking a seat on his own at an empty table across the room.
Thick waves of smoke from the cigars a few men are smoking cloud my view of him. Out of everyone here, he’s the only one I’d consider telling what’s going on.
Zander and Lucian know. But the other men? I couldn’t give a fuck.
But Joe wants a Slave. And I’m tempted to let him know why I’ve allowed her to go up for auction.
Why I’m eager and grateful that she accepted Madam Lynn’s proposal.
I don’t know exactly what she said. But I do know that I’ll have my kitten how I rightfully should in less than an hour.
My heart’s beating frantically in my chest, and my nerves are high. I just want this to be over with.
“It’ll be fine,” Zander says, putting his paddle down on the table. “No one wants to fuck with you.” He meets my eyes but I instinctively look back to Joe, whose eyes are on the stage.
The already dim lights in the room lower, and the room darkens.
With a click, the spotlight shines on the thick red curtains. The auctioneer, dressed in a simple black suit and slim black tie speaks into the microphone, “Good evening, gentlemen. Let the auction begin.”
The curtains draw back slowly, and my skin prickles with a mix of emotions.
My kitten is standing front and center. Alone on the stage with lights shining on her sun-kissed skin. It’s so bright that the scars are hidden. You can’t see from here how they speckle her shoulders. But I know they’re there.
She stands with her hands clasped in front of her, no rose present, and her head bowed.
My lungs still in my chest, and my grip tightens on the paddle.
She’s going through with it. She’s really taking this leap of faith.
“We’ll start the bidding at five hundred thousand dollars,” the man says, and I raise my paddle silently. I’ll gladly hand over my entire fortune to have her. I only need this one chance.
“Six,” Joe’s voice rings out in the room, and my jaw clenches. My body heats with anger as I feel the eyes of every man in the room on me.
“Six hundred thousand, do we have seven?”
I raise my paddle silently, not trusting myself to speak. “Seven to the gentleman in the right corner.”
Katia’s head lifts slightly, and she looks up at me. Her eyes are wide and pleading. They fall as Joe yells out, “Eight.” Her fingers play along the hem of her sheer black dress.
I know she’s frightened, for many reasons, and I fucking hate that she’s suffering in yet another way. Fear of a different man taking her.
“She’s mine. Nine hundred thousand,” I spit
out, standing from my seat and making my position known.
“Gentlemen, please. The rules will be followed,” the auctioneer reminds me, but I refuse to sit.
“One million,” Joe says, looking straight into my eyes and then back to Katia. “Kneel,” he yells out and her legs waver slightly. But she resists. She looks up at him with her bottom lip trembling. She’s fucking terrified.
“Kitten. You will bow for me,” I say confidently. As she lowers herself to the floor, bowing for all to see, I raise my paddle again.
“One million and one-” the auctioneer starts to say, but he’s interrupted by the sound of Joe’s chair scraping across the floor as he storms out. He brushes past a few men and it’s obvious that he’s pissed off. But he’s conceded. Her preference and obedience toward me have been made clear.
There’s a murmur in the room as the auctioneer clears his throat and speaks into the microphone.
“One million one hundred thousand, going once,” he says, but his voice lacks enthusiasm and he doesn’t even bother looking around the room.
My eyes are focused on my sweet pet, obediently bowed on the shining wooden floor of the stage, her eyes straight ahead, focused on the fabric of the curtains pressed against the side of the stage.
“Going twice.”
I watch as she takes in a shuddering breath and her eyes become glassy. She closes them tightly, and tears fall down her flushed face.
“Sold.”
Chapter 16
Katia
I can’t stop shaking as I sit in a chair across from Madam Lynn and Isaac in her office. I can’t believe I actually went through with it. I still have the rush of endorphins running through my body from standing up there on the stage in front of everyone. I was vulnerable and alone.
My mind goes back to the auction as I try to still my trembling hands. The lights were blinding and I could hardly see, but I knew they were there, watching me. Assessing me. That brought back memories. I close my eyes, hating the flash of my dark past.
Sold: Highest Bidder Page 11