Prized, The Payment Series book 1

by Cassandra Carr

“Get on your back on the ottoman. Spread your legs and pull your knees up to your ears. I don’t think I have to tell you by now, but if you let them go you’ll be punished more.”

  Unfortunately, she was getting used to being punished, even though she’d done nothing to deserve it. Well, more than for the reason she was here in the first place. Catrina moved to the ottoman that had become one of the many banes of her existence in the past ten days. She was usually facedown and ass up on it, so at least this was novel. When she was positioned as he’d commanded, Raoul grabbed a small pillow and put it under her ass. Her hole was now lewdly displayed and it contracted instinctively.

  He ran his finger up and down her crack, stopping to poke at her bottom hole every now and then. “I can’t fuck your hole; then it wouldn’t be virgin. But I can do something else to it, and I’m going to. After I’m done we’ll talk about how you feel.”

  How I feel? Catrina barely suppressed an eye roll. How does he think I’ll feel when he finishes whatever evil thing he has planned?

  Raoul took a flogger out of his “Drawers of Death” as she’d named the sideboard on the third day. “I’m going to flog your pussy and hole.”

  Oh, lovely.

  “Keep those legs up. I want a clear view of your tight little hole.”

  He began to flog her bottom, with the tails of the awful implement cutting into the unpunished skin of her crack and her asshole. She hissed and bucked, but didn’t dare let go of her legs. Catrina’s eyes were squeezed shut; she’d found things were a little easier to take if she could try to transport herself to another place. That was impossible with her eyes open. When they were she felt every stroke of his hand, the hairbrush, the various paddles and straps he’d used on her and, right now, the flogger. After several moments he stopped.

  “Do not move.”

  Catrina heard Raoul leave the room and her eyes popped open. Where the hell had he gone? She didn’t have to wait long, as he returned shortly with three other trainers behind him. One was Pat, who’d punished her on the very first day, and the other two were people she recognized from around the office but had not met. Everyone in the office was male, which didn’t surprise her considering their “business.” The trainers all wore red polo shirts, probably so they could use the hue to judge when a client had been spanked hard enough.

  Raoul stood at the foot of the ottoman, right by her exposed ass. “I’ve called in these trainers to help me finish my demonstration. You’re going to hang your head off the side of the ottoman and suck them off, one by one, upside-down. I will whip your pussy and your hole with the flogger until you’ve made all three come. Do you understand?”

  She was beginning to abhor that phrase. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” One of the trainers helped her position her head so it rested against the side of the ottoman, with her chin on top and her hair streaming down over his shoes and onto the carpet. He unzipped and put his cock in her mouth, and then she vaguely saw him nod. The flogging began and Catrina jumped, almost sinking her teeth into the guy’s dick. His growl told her he’d noticed, and she began to suck as if her life depended on it. Catrina wasn’t familiar with this guy and for all she knew he’d demand to punish her for what she’d almost just done. It wouldn’t have surprised her.

  Deep down she knew this was their job, and that they truly were trying to do what they could to help her get top dollar from a benefactor. Raoul had told her there were times that the bidding simply didn’t get high enough to cover the woman’s debt and, in that case, she had the choice to walk away or to accept the lower bid and still serve the length previously agreed upon.

  It was possible no one would bid one hundred fifty thousand for her, and she’d have to take less and yet still service her debt, as he’d so cleverly termed it, for the agreed-upon year. She needed to do her best, and she was trying, but this was so hard. Packing up everything she owned really brought the point home that she truly had done this to herself. Every night, when Catrina went home, she wept bitter tears as she filled box after box with crap she really didn’t need or want. She’d been so stupid and now she had no other option but to pay the price.

  The man reached down and grabbed her head, pulling it back more and bending her neck farther, and she realized in her ruminations she’d almost completely stopped sucking him. A particularly vicious stroke landed and she squealed around the cock filling her mouth, and then began to suck as hard as she could. The man grunted, beginning to fuck her mouth, which actually made it easier. He came a moment later and though it was very difficult to swallow from this angle she did her best, only allowing one small stream to escape and roll toward her hairline.

  The next in line was Pat and, with a smile, he shoved inside. Unlike the other man, Pat leaned forward and grabbed her breasts, taking a firm hold on them. He fumbled for a bit and got her shirt unbuttoned. One of the other men oh-so-helpfully pulled the cups of her bra down, and Pat grabbed her nipples, twisting cruelly. Catrina had long since learned not to protest anything done to her, especially after Raoul pointed out that she’d better get used to it, as the men she’d be servicing wouldn’t always play strictly by the rules, whatever the hell that meant.

  The flogging increased in tempo and intensity and Catrina whimpered. Pat pulled on her nipples and she tightened around him. His hold eased and then tightened once more when her mouth went slack, forcing her to arch her back, which changed the angle of her head and allowed Pat to push right into her throat. She’d gotten better with the gag reflex, but if he stayed there she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it. And then what?

  Luckily she didn’t have to find out, since shortly after, muttering swear words, Pat pulled back out until only the head of his dick remained in her mouth. His legs locked and cum streamed from the head of his cock, filling the roof of her mouth until she managed to catch up and start swallowing. Her pussy and hole felt on fire and she dreaded more of this, but the third man hadn’t even started.

  Pat pulled out of her mouth and the third man moved in front of Catrina, feeding his dick into her mouth inch by inch. Catrina heard Raoul say “Spread her” and suddenly hands were pulling her ass cheeks even further apart. She screamed as previously unpunished, untouched skin was burned by the flogger, and began to furiously suck this third man’s cock. She needed him to come. Now.

  But it wasn’t to be. To her chagrin, and at the limit of her pain threshold, he finally pulled out and jerked his dick the rest of the way as Raoul furiously whipped her, concentrating solely on that tortured hole. Her cheeks were still being spread and she had a feeling the residual effects of this whipping would be felt for days. The man pushed her mouth further open with one hand and pumped with the other. Cum started to dribble out of his slit and he shook it into her mouth.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, Catrina registered that Raoul had stopped whipping her, but her eyes were completely clogged by tears. Her face was a mess in general, but, by that time, she was far beyond caring. She just wanted this over with. If Raoul had told her a couple of minutes ago she’d need to suck off an entire football team to make the whipping stop, she would’ve gladly lined them up. What did that say about her?

  Chapter Three

  The other men left and Raoul handed her the entire box of tissues. “Clean up and then kneel in front of the couch.”

  She also knew better than to rebutton her shirt, so she simply wiped down her face and hair as best she could, throwing the used tissues into a bin Raoul so helpfully provided.

  Catrina winced, unable to stop a wail of pain when she knelt. His face without expression, Raoul sat and regarded her.

  “How did knowing your asshole, your most private part, was on display and being whipped make you feel? How about knowing it wouldn’t end until you did as I told you?”

  After taking a couple of deep breaths, she said, “I hated it. No one’s ever touched me there. I feel like it’s dirty and gross and not something anyone else should be seeing, much less
doing anything to.”

  “And yet your benefactor will fuck your ass. Most likely often. His friends will. Total strangers will.” Catrina made a face and he continued, undaunted, “I bet you felt pretty vulnerable.”

  “Yes, sir. Very.”

  “And helpless.”

  “Yes.”

  “And I’m guessing during that whipping you felt the most submissive you have since you started training.”

  “Yes.”

  “You would have done just about anything I’d demanded in order to make me stop.”

  Turning her gaze to the carpet in front of her, she answered, “Yes, sir.”

  “Look at me.” Reluctantly she raised her head. She hated that he made her do that, but knew why. He wanted her focused on exactly what was going on. “I’m aware that by now you hate me, especially after I did something like that to you. But there’s a reason for everything I do. I’m really trying to prepare you for some of the things you might experience during your term of service.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “You’re aware that your benefactor won’t need a reason to punish you, correct?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “He can also let anyone else to punish you in any way he allows. Just as a for instance, there might be a time when your benefactor takes you to a party, strips you naked, and lets two men take belts to your ass at the same time until it’s crimson. One cheek per man, until you’re screaming for mercy, which you may or may not get. And why? Because that’s what your benefactor wanted. You didn’t do anything wrong, anything to deserve a brutal double-strapping, but you’ll get one. Do you understand what I’m saying? I don’t punish you to get my jollies.”

  Catrina couldn’t hold in the snort and Raoul raised one eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “Looks like you need some time on my cock.” She sighed. It was his favorite trick when he thought she wasn’t being respectful. He’d put his dick in her mouth, oftentimes when he wasn’t even hard, and then make her kneel there while he did paperwork, flipped through a magazine, or simply stared down at her. Somehow she knew it was something her benefactor may be likely to do as well. “Anyway, I really don’t do these things just to be mean or for no reason. I have a purpose for everything I do. Unlike your benefactor and all the other people you’ll encounter while you service your debt.”

  “I understand that now.”

  “Back to your asshole being whipped.”

  Do we have to? It hurts like fucking hell and talking about it doesn’t exactly help me forget that.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “The reason benefactors will pay extra is to be the first one to take you in that most private, personally intrusive way. They’re not all sadists, but many of the men who are willing to pay the price you’re requesting also relish the opportunity to be the first cock reaming the hole of a naughty, naughty girl like you. Oftentimes they’ll invite friends over to watch. If you’re lucky they’ll stretch you first or use lube or both. If you’re not…” He left the rest of the sentence unsaid, and Catrina’s stomach turned.

  “Ow.”

  For once, Raoul’s eyes were soft and Catrina almost lost it right then and there. In some ways it was easier to abhor him. And, by all accounts, given that he’d just whipped her while forcing her to suck cocks of men she didn’t even know, she should hate him. The fact that she didn’t truly disturbed her. Yes, it was good to know he wasn’t just punishing her to get his rocks off, but the punishments seemed easier to take when she’d thought he was a sadistic bastard. And maybe he was, but she wasn’t sure, and that confused the hell out of her.

  He leaned back once more. “The benefactors know they can’t inflict any lasting damage. As we discussed, you’ll be seen by our doctor every month when you come in for your tests, and if he sees anything he doesn’t deem as part of the benefactor’s rights in your service to him, the doctor will report it and the benefactor will be fined. That money will be kept in trust and given to you at the end of your term.”

  Catrina was overwhelmed, getting moreso every day, and her emotions had been running on high for so long that, all at once, the house of cards her brain had become came crashing down. A huge sob broke free and she collapsed, hyperventilating. Raoul sprang into action, grabbing a paper bag—where the hell had that come from?—and placing it over her mouth, urging her to breathe. He’d picked her up and was now cradling her in his strong arms. It was the first time she’d felt safe and at peace in weeks, maybe months. And she hated him even less.

  The day of the auction came, and Catrina was given a haircut, bikini wax, manicure, and pedicure. She could see the morbid humor in the fact she was getting prettied up to be auctioned off as a sex slave to some dude for a year, but it didn’t stop her from berating herself for getting into this position in the first place.

  Before all this happened she’d made sure to keep up a strict beauty regimen of monthly cuts, colors, massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, waxes—the works. God only knew how much she’d spent on treatments in the past couple of years, as her finances spun out of control, and yet she hadn’t even considered stopping them or even decreasing their frequency. What an idiot she’d been.

  When she returned to DMA, Raoul stripped her completely and then gave her directions.

  “There are about thirty-five men here. A very good turnout, really. Ten girls are being auctioned today.” Catrina’s mouth fell open and Raoul said, “Surprised there are that many? You actually came to us at the perfect time. We only hold these presentation events,” What a nice term for it, “once a month, so some of the girls have been waiting.”

  “Are there always this many?”

  “No, not often. Sometimes there are more, but we average four to six each month.”

  “Wow. I guess I’m not the only one with a spending problem.”

  “Unfortunately, no, you’re not. Anyway, I’ll bring you in there and we’ll walk amongst the men. They are allowed to touch, but that’s it. If they have a question they will direct it to me. You will not speak. Once the auction is about to begin we’ll go up on stage and I’ll remain with you. When it’s your turn, I will display you, to what I think is your best advantage, while the emcee explains the particulars about your debt load and term of service, and the auctioning for you will begin. You will keep your head down at all times once we enter the room, unless given other instructions. With me so far?”

  “Yes, sir.” The surreal quality of this entire situation hit her and she took a deep breath in and blew it back out. She had to do this. She had to let some stranger essentially buy her for an entire year. There was no other way to get herself out of the mess she’d created. Her eviction had come through and she’d actually been forced to spend the past couple of days with Meghan, who was the only person who knew what was actually happening.

  Most of her friends and family thought she had gotten a new position as a personal assistant to an executive and wouldn’t be around much, since he was so demanding of her time. They’d been surprised when she’d told them she’d be living with the man, and though some way-too-close-to-the-mark comments had been made Catrina had ignored them, fearing breaking the confidentiality agreement she’d signed as part of the contract with DMA.

  And isn’t what they said the truth in a sick, twisted way?

  Raoul went on. “Once a price has been agreed upon, your new benefactor will come up on stage to claim you from me and then you’ll be sent back here to gather your things. You’ll stand in the corner, still naked, until your benefactor meets you here. He will decide what you’ll be allowed to wear home. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Then let’s go. I’m attaching a belt with a leash to your midsection. That may seem demeaning, but it’s actually for your protection, because it ensures I’m never more than three feet from you.”

  “O-okay.”

  “Remember, you do not talk. Some of the men may try to get you to,
so they can test your obedience. If that happens I will deal with it.” He fastened the contraption around her waist and took hold of the end. “Ready?”

  “If I have to be.”

  He led her to the end of the building and a room she’d never seen before. As Raoul had said, about three dozen men milled around. A few girls were already there, presumably with their trainers, and a general air of anticipation floated through the room. When she entered with Raoul, several of the men looked over.

  “Eyes down.” Raoul reminded her, leading her toward a group of men standing around a bar-height table. “Gentlemen, this is number nine.” It was then that Catrina noticed there was a nine button attached to her belt. That’s all I am to these men, a number; a potential purchase.

  She fought tears. Some reached out and grasped her breasts or played with her nipples as others ran their hands along her ass. A few even dipped into her crack and tapped or massaged her hole. Out of the corner of her eye, Catrina saw a line-up card sitting on each table, which appeared to contain the vital stats on each woman being put on auction today.

  Raoul efficiently moved Catrina through all the groups of men and she was repeatedly groped and fondled. She did her best not to flinch away. After all, for the next year dozens upon dozens of men would be doing similar things, and she could imagine her benefactor not being pleased if she appeared revolted. The one time she couldn’t control her reaction—to a large man with sausage fingers who practically drilled into her bottom hole—Raoul reached back and slapped her inner thigh, hard. The man remarked, “Her skin colors nicely.” Catrina wondered if that would help her get the price she needed. Probably. Then she prayed this particular man wouldn’t have the funds to buy her debt. She wasn’t sure she would make it through a year of having to live with and service him.

  The emcee announced the presentation would begin soon and Raoul brought her up on stage, putting her in the correct place. Apparently number nine meant she’d be the ninth woman auctioned. As she waited for her turn, Catrina began to regret the breakfast she’d eaten that morning and hoped she’d be able to keep it down. No doubt it wouldn’t impress these men if she puked all over the stage.