Sold: Highest Bidder

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Sold: Highest Bidder Page 12

by Willow Winters


  My skin pricks as I force myself to think about the present. About the auction and all the emotions that ran through my body. I almost fell over, my knees screaming at me to buckle, when the masked man began the bidding war with Isaac, giving me an order to submit to him. I was scared that he’d outbid Isaac and take me as his property just for revenge. Even worse, if the man with the half mask won, I feared he would be a horrible Master to me, punishing me unjustly for denying him in the first place. Although something tells me he wouldn’t be like that. The eyes behind his mask are full of sadness. It radiates from him in a way I relate to, yet something so different.

  But I refused to obey him. He’s not my Master. And he never will be. I wouldn’t go through with the contract. I’d forfeit the money, my membership, I don’t care. Isaac is my only Master.

  The sound of leather creaking as Isaac shifts in his seat brings my attention on his handsome face. He’s staring at me, the intensity of his eyes causing my skin to chill. He was here before I came in, waiting eagerly for my arrival. His eyes have never left my face since.

  I can tell he’s anxious to just get this over with and take me home like he’s wanted to do for weeks. I can practically feel to the desire and excitement radiating from him. My eyes fall to the stack of papers laying in front of him. My contract. The rules are on top, written in large, black bold letters. I’m sure Isaac has memorized them all by now. I sure as fuck have.

  My eyes are drawn to Madam Lynn as she says something else to Isaac. They’ve been talking for a while now, but I can barely breathe, let alone listen. There’s also a stack of papers in front of her, a few that I have yet to sign. Papers that say I’ll be consenting to a 24/7 power exchange. I suck in a deep breath, the realization of what this all means washing over me. There’s no turning back now. I’m his.

  He’s a good Master. I know this. But it still does nothing to quell the fear I feel. Isaac’s taking me out of Club X. I tremble at the thought of losing my safety net and having to rely solely on him.

  “And about her work?” Madam Lynn asks, her voice coming into focus. She’s been speaking on my behalf this entire time, and I’ve been too out of it to hear anything she’s said. Although when they look at me, I know to nod and agree.

  Isaac keeps his eyes on me as he replies, “She will attend all social gatherings and predetermined functions as usual.”

  Madam Lynn slowly nods her approval. “Christmas is in 10 days.”

  “I’ll make sure she celebrates as usual,” Isaac says confidently.

  Their words drone on in the background as they continue going over the contract and I find myself going back into a slight daze. I nod and answer yes as needed, my mind finding its way to my last Christmas. I’d gone home after New Year’s, thinking the attention of the holidays would have passed, only to find that my mother still had the Christmas tree up, waiting for me. Everything was still decorated.

  She’d done it for me. Saved everything and made sure to give me a proper holiday. She’ll never know how much it hurt. I don’t want a holiday. I don’t want the life we had before. I don’t know why she doesn’t understand how much it hurts. Everything from before, the traditions she’s so eager to celebrate with me. They’re tainted and a part of my past, where I want them to stay.

  They were all there, her, the rest of my family. They had gifts wrapped and everything. Waiting. Watching. Staring. I hated it. Being there in front of them brought back flashbacks of being taken, but I had to force a smile and pretend to be thrilled while I unwrapped the gifts while they all watched as if waiting for me to break down.

  I exhale sharply, something Madam Lynn uttered bringing me to the present. I can have rules and conditions, too. I need to state them before the meeting ends and I end up fucked.

  “I—” I begin, my voice hoarse and unsteady. I shift in my seat and stare at the table. He is my Master. He is to have control. But there’s one thing I can’t do.

  Under the desk, I feel Madam Lynn’s hand gently rub my thigh in an effort to calm me as I speak. I’m grateful and I feel my anxiety ebb just a little. It’s Isaac. I can tell him.

  I lick my lips and swallow and try again. “I would like sunlight. Please don’t take that away,” I plead to him. “I can’t go back into darkness.” I shake my head, feeling a cold chill touch my spine. “Even as a punishment, please.”

  Isaac leans across the table and places his hand palm up in front of me.

  I instantly grab his hand for the comfort and to show him my obedience.

  “Of course you will have sunlight,” Isaac assures me, squeezing my hand. “You need it. You can rest assured that I will never take a need away from you. Ever.”

  His words are filled with such conviction, it’s hard not to believe him. I relax slightly as my breathing comes in steadier. And I try to remind myself again, that as my Master, Isaac will only be looking out for my best interests. All I need to do is trust him. He’s already had me multiple times, bringing me such pleasure that I didn’t think was humanly possible. He’s not going to hurt me, and he’s more than shown that he’s a capable Master.

  I inhale a calming breath as Madam Lynn sets a gold pen down in front of me. She seems to approve of how this session has come along, her eyes warm and caring. I know this must be gratifying to her since she went through all the trouble to ensure Isaac got his collar around my neck, showing up at the shelter unannounced like that.

  “Sign here, my darling,” she urges me gently, her calming voice washing over me like a soothing, healing balm.

  “If you’d like to take the night and decide-” she starts to say and Isaac’s eyes whip to Madam Lynn for the first time, pissed off and not agreeing.

  I shake my head, ignoring the rest of her words as I pick up the gold-plated pen and quickly signing on the dotted line. It takes a lot of effort to keep my hand steady as a mixture of powerful emotions flows through me and I sign my name. Fear and anxiety are present, but excitement outweighs them.

  It’s official. Isaac is my Master for the next thirty days.

  Twenty-four hours a day; seven days a week. He will have control of everything. Every. Single. Aspect of my life.

  I belong to him.

  “I think it’s best I go home with Isaac tonight,” I say, trying to keep my fears from owning my voice. If I don’t leave with him now, tonight I’ll want to run. I know it. I don’t want the chance. I lay the pen flat on the stack of papers, staring at the scroll of my signature.

  I’m afraid of giving away my power, and going off the club grounds with Isaac where I’ll be in his domain, completely at his mercy. I’m terrified, and yet, I know I need it. No more delays. Just do it. I’ve sold myself to Isaac so I would be forced to confront my fears. Now I just need to put on my big girl panties and face them.

  Madam Lynn studies me for a long moment, her eyes soft and filled with concern. I feel like she sees and senses my emotions, but she’s not disturbed by them. If she were, she’d call the meeting. I realize she’s doing this because she feels I need this. She feels it will help me. After a moment, her eyes flicker over to Isaac before she nods and grabs the stack of papers, including the last one I signed and rises from her seat. Without saying a word, she quietly leaves the room, leaving me alone with Isaac.

  “Are you alright, kitten?” Isaac asks as soon as Madam Lynn is gone, his deep voice filled with concern.

  “I’m scared, Isaac,” I admit after several moments of nervously biting my lower lip. I pause, my heart skipping a beat, hoping I didn’t already break a rule now that he’s officially my Master. “Can I even call you that anymore?”

  To my relief, Isaac doesn’t look angry. “We’ll talk about the rules when we get home,” is all he says, looking like his mind is on other things.

  I nod my head, my fingers unconsciously finding my neck, trailing my scars. “And a collar?” I dare ask, my body going tense. Just thinking about it is causing my stomach to twist with anxiety.

  Isaac
hesitates. “When you’re ready,” he says finally.

  Shock causes me to suck in a surprised breath. I didn’t expect him to say that. At all.

  “I know this is hard for you,” Isaac says, his deep voice filled with absolute confidence. “But don’t be afraid. I will care for all of your needs. You need not worry. Ever.”

  God, his words sound so reassuring. So seductive, even.

  I close my eyes, sucking in several calming breaths, telling myself I can do this. When I open them a moment later, I feel the faintest threads of determination thread through my chest as I breathe, “I’m ready,” praying I feel the same way tomorrow.

  Chapter 17

  Isaac

  I twist my hands on the leather steering wheel of my Porsche Carrera GT. It’s fucking freezing outside, but the heated seats and my nerves are making my back sweat. I look out of the window as we pull up to one of the last street lights before taking a private road to my home.

  I take a glance at my kitten. She’s looking out of the window, twisting her fingers in her lap nervously. Her back is stick straight, and she looks like she’s not even breathing.

  The first thing she’s going to do when we get home is drink. A large glass of sauvignon will do her well. I think I’ll make stuffed peppers to go with it. I’m going to need to occupy myself while she gets accustomed to her new role and new environment.

  I didn’t imagine her taking it so hard. She’s completely changed before my eyes. The confidence is gone, and the sexual tension between us has vanished.

  She’s scared, quiet. She hasn’t said a word other than yes. Her eyes are heavy with exhaustion and her face still flushed from crying.

  The drive home has been silent, but I’m ready to change that. As much as I feel for her, I’m still excited. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, filling me with an electric spark. I’ve waited so long for her, to have her here. I’m ready to show her what she’s truly capable of. And even more so, what I’m capable of.

  “Do you like to cook?” I ask her. It’s been almost two weeks of seeing her every night. But I’ve barely learned much about her, other than her desires and a bit about her past. Of course I know much more than she’s told me. But the finer details, those are important and I need her to open up to me so I can learn them.

  “I do, Master,” she answers softly. There’s a trace of fear in her voice.

  “Are you good at it?” I cock a brow, giving her a humorous look as I slow the car at a stop sign. The hum of the engine vibrates up my back and fills the car with a quiet purr.

  She opens her mouth and almost hesitates, but she quickly answers, “No.”

  I let out an easy chuckle. “That’s more than alright, kitten.”

  Her relief in my response is evident. “I enjoy cooking. I want you to help me though.”

  “Yes, Master,” she says with a lighter voice than she’s had all day.

  “We’re going to go over the rules and what’s required of you in the house while I make the sauce,” I say easily, pulling up to my house, the car jostling slightly as I drive up the driveway and wait for the garage to open.

  I have a decent collection of cars. An expensive but carefully curated collection.

  Katia sucks in a breath as she takes in my home.

  It’s simple. I like simplicity, and the modern clean lines.

  The house itself is very much like a cabin, except instead of stacks of logs there are large sheets of glass on the front. Being so far away from anyone else affords me the luxury of having privacy while also being able to expose my home. The entire front of the house is open to the deep woods we’re nestled in. I own the ten acres the house sits on, so it will always be like this. Quiet, serene and one with nature.

  The soft grey sky disappears as I pull into the garage and quickly park the car.

  “Come, kitten, come see your new home.”

  I slip off my jacket as I lead her into the open kitchen. I have to take off the cufflinks in order to roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt. I don’t enjoy wearing a suit. I'd much rather be in jeans. But Club X has a strict dress code. Thank fuck we won’t be going there anymore.

  Every step she takes seems deliberate. She’s on edge and waiting for something. Maybe waiting for my demeanor to change? I’m not sure.

  “Have a seat,” I tell her easily, turning my back to her as she climbs onto the bar height chair at the granite island.

  “I need to know your daily schedule and the plans you have every day for the next thirty days that I have you.” I continue to talk with my back to her, letting her get comfortable without having to worry about the possibility of me scrutinizing her.

  I am. I’m taking in every little move and change. The angles of her body and the way she’s presenting herself. But it’s not for the reason she thinks.

  I’m not judging her. I’m gauging her emotions. And so far it’s worse than I anticipated. It’s like the last two weeks haven’t happened.

  I pluck three tomatoes from the basket next to the sink and set them down on a wood cutting board.

  “Start with tomorrow.”

  “I have work. From seven in the morning until seven at night.” She clears her throat slightly, and I can hear the slight squeak of the chair moving under her weight. “That’s all I have planned.”

  “And the next day?”

  “The same. Every day.”

  “And the holidays?” I ask as I scrape the knife across the board, pushing the first diced tomato to the side.

  “Nothing. Just work.”

  The knife slices easily through the tomato and hits the cutting board. I’m still for a moment. I know her mother has sent her messages.

  “You weren’t invited to go anywhere with family?” I ask as I grab a hand towel off of the counter, wiping the juice from my fingers.

  “I was.”

  “And?” I ask, my eyebrow raised. She’s a very lucky girl she didn’t lie to me.

  “And I said I couldn’t go.”

  “I see, and where was it that you were invited to go?” I ask her.

  “To see my parents a few hours away.” She shakes her head slightly, dismissing the invitation. “They won’t be expecting-”

  “We’ll both be attending,” I say, cutting her off. I don’t know why I made the decision so quickly. I hadn’t decided on whether or not I’d be going. But she sure as fuck is. She’s in desperate need of contact and conversation in person. From what I can tell, all of her friendships are online. I want more for her.

  And it should start with her parents.

  She stiffens in her chair, but she nods her head and says, “Yes, Master.”

  “And for New Year's?” I ask her.

  “I have no plans, nor was I invited to anything.” Her voice is quiet, but clear.

  “We’ll spend that together then,” I announce and turn my back to her again to continue dicing the tomatoes.

  A moment later I pipe up and say, “Well, that’s easy enough. You’ll find someone else to work on the days I have off.”

  She’s quiet until I turn to look over my shoulder. “Yes, Master.”

  I can’t stand this tension anymore.

  She needs to get off. That’ll calm her ass down.

  “Kitten,” I say and wipe off the blade and gently set it down, putting dinner on hold. “Come here.”

  I take a look at the utensils and kitchen tools, my eyes scanning them to find something useful. Finally, I settle on a French rolling pin. It’s a pale hard marble and cold to the touch, but it’ll do nicely.

  “Strip,” I tell her as she stands to my left.

  She’s barely wearing any clothing at all. Without her coat, all she has on is a sheer black dress with skimpy straps that end mid-thigh, and a lace pair of panties. She slips the straps down her shoulders and the thin piece of fabric pools at her feet into a puddle of shiny black. Her nipples instantly harden. And so does my dick.

  I lean forward, taking one of her pale rose
nipples into my mouth and gripping both of her wrists in my hands as she attempts to pull her thong down her thighs.

  She gasps at my quick movements and pushes her chest into my face. Like a good girl. I pull back, letting her nipple pop out of my mouth and then swirl my tongue around the other.

  “Let go,” I command her and in that instant she does, immediately releasing her grip on the lacy straps of her underwear.

  I take a step back and look at her.

  “You’re gorgeous, Katia.” The small intake of air and slight flush to her cheeks warms me. It touches a cold part of my soul I’m not used to feeling. I shake off the sensation and concentrate on the matter at hand.

  “You will never wear those again. Or any underwear.” I loop my thumb around the straps and easily rip through the lace, shredding the sides of her thong and letting them fall to the floor.

  My dick stirs with desire as her lips part in shock. “Your cunt and ass will always be available to me. Easily.”

  I trail my middle finger along her lower lip, and she obediently opens her mouth. “And your mouth.” I slip my finger into her hot mouth. I don’t have to tell her to suck; she greedily suctions her lips around my finger, keeping her hands at her side and hollowing her cheeks. Her tongue massages the underside of my finger as she closes her eyes and moans.

  Fuck! She’s so fucking sexy. She has no idea what she does to me. “Ah ah, kitten,” I admonish her, pulling my finger away and turning back toward the counter. “I have something else for you to suck.”

  I grab the rolling pin, and it’s cold and smooth. She’s really going to want to heat this up.

  Fear flashes in her eyes for a moment, but I ignore it. I’ll never hurt her. Not that way she’s thinking. “Suck on this,” I tell her, placing the pin to her lips. There are no handles, just one long smooth pin. She has to stretch her jaw a little more than my finger, but the pin itself isn’t very wide.

 

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