Sold at the Ski Resort
Page 17
But unlike on the snow earlier, she doesn’t look away. Instead, she holds my gaze steadily. Intently.
Until our gaze is broken by the woman from the stage as she approaches Mariah and Jane. Both women have changed out of their ski clothes, and are now in fuzzy, curvaceous sweaters, tight, form-fitting pants, and cute snow boots.
Mariah and the woman from the stage are talking about something. Whatever it is, Mariah is looking a bit nervous, but also intense. After a moment, Mariah nods and takes Jane’s hand. They are then led by the woman up to the stage.
Oh, my God! As I watch Mariah move toward the stage, I’m blown away by so much courage in such a small, delicate frame. She is actually doing it! I can’t believe this! Mariah’s actually getting up on stage… Hungrily, I watch her climb the steps. Which means… I don’t even have to finish the thought, before my mind is busy making a list of all the things I’m going to do to her when I buy her. Get her to eat my cock, while I give her patient but firm instruction; order her to lie completely still while I eat her little pussy, and then use my saliva to loosen her up some more, maybe play with her ass. Perhaps I’ll tie her up, so I can do what I want with her, and leave her begging me for more.
Imagining getting to play with her small, puckering hole is enough to make me wish I could start stroking my cock covertly through my pants. Unsurprisingly, it’s already hard and fighting for freedom.
My brother notices that I’m fucking squirming in my chair.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispers. “Now you can’t say I’ve never gotten you anything nice.”
Chapter 8 – Mariah
At first, the idea of going into the basement of a well-lit, but apparently super-secret building, doesn’t seem like such a good idea. Even though I know Paul and his companions are probably down there, hoping to see us, I can’t keep the anxious twist from my stomach. I’m still not sure what else we’re going to find out while we’re here.
Thankfully, Jane steps into the basement first, and drags me with her. If not for that, I’d be frozen in place on the top step. As we descend the first couple stairs, I reach into my pants pocket and grab my phone. Just in case. I tell myself it’s just to see the time, and the fact that Mom sent a text.
A text about how sorry she is that I’m not going to be there right on Christmas day, like I promised. She’d been so upset when I’d told her I couldn’t come, but, now is not the time to feel guilty about that. Now is the time to figure out where I am and what’s going on.
It’s really not about the time or the text. The Exchange Club may not be what either of us bargained for. Maybe there’s not even a place down here called that. Maybe it’s just an empty basement, with guys waiting for a couple of dumb, curious girls to come check it out.
With these blossoming horror stories in mind, I keep following my friend down the stairs. But now I’m shaking, and I’m trying not to drop my phone.
“Don’t be scared, babe,” whispers Jane, “those guys wouldn’t have invited us just so we could be shanghaied.” Her voice is calm. Maybe even a bit playful, but I can hear an edge of concern in it all the same.
Finally, we get down off the stairs, and onto lush carpet. And that’s when I see what I’m not expecting: the sign for an actual restaurant/lounge called The Exchange Club. It’s in big gold letters on a black plaque. A smartly dressed doorman stands at attention near the entrance.
Jane pulls me forward toward the doors, taking out the card Alex gave us. She flashes it at the doorman. “We are guests. A guy named Alex and his friend Jordan invited us, does that sound —”
A door opens for us, courtesy of the doorman before she can even get the full question out. “Please head inside, ladies. It’s almost 8 PM, and the gentlemen you speak of have already taken their seats.”
My heart is pounding when I hear this information.
“Come on.” With that, Jane hauls me through the open door of The Exchange Club. “They’re waiting for us.”
I allow myself to be dragged along, though I can’t help but wonder what is waiting for us inside.
I don’t have to wonder long, though. Once we step through the door, I’m surrounded by a timelessly elegant room. It’s like something out of a Victorian theater or ballroom. The ceilings are grand and tall, decorated with chandeliers and inset lights. The walls are dark and seductive. The sprawling floors are covered with the most luxurious carpets.
Unlike a ballroom or a theater though, this room is filled with tables and chairs. Candles and champagne. Bread and hors d’oeuvres. The only thing it has in common with a Victorian-era theater is its grand stage up at the front.
Toward the front is immediately where Jane begins to take us. Indeed, a woman in a tuxedo, bowtie, and Fedora has just made her way toward one side of the stage, preparing to exit. “Let’s go talk with her,” says Jane. “I bet she’ll know what we do as invited guests.”
I don’t have any response to this. I’ve stopped looking at my surroundings, and started looking for Paul. I see a lot of suits and ties, but no Jaguar eyes. Not yet. And if I’m going to not regret coming here, I better find them. Quickly.
It seems like I’m scanning forever, but finally his eyes jump out at me. Snatch me out from this big, dusky room and hold me tight. The moment his golden-brown eyes touch me, I can feel my heart melting into my toes. My hands beginning to sweat.
His intensity seems raised. If it weren’t for all these people around, he looks like he might just run over and grab me. Bury his lips, and maybe even his teeth, in my neck.
I keep my gaze level, hoping to send this message through my eyes at him: I won’t resist. I’m not afraid. Come get me, Jaguar.
Just when I see Paul beginning to stir, fidget, the woman from the stage is upon us. “Good evening, ladies,” she says, appraising us. “I assume you’re here for tonight’s auction, yes?”
“Uh, yeah?” Jane tightens the grip on my hand, and pulls me so that I’m standing next to her. “My friend and I were invited here by a couple of good-looking guys, and all they told us was just to show up.”
“Good!” She smiles, giving us both a once over again. This time pausing to study our curves. Something I’m not quite comfortable with. “Well, the auction is this way.” She begins to turn on her heels. “So, if you’ll just follow me…”
“Wait!” I stop short, embarrassed by the anxiety in my voice. “Wait, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Patiently, slowly the woman turns her eyes back to us. “What auction? What are you talking about?”
“Oh.” Her eyes light up. “So, you don’t know.”
“No. We don’t.” That’s Jane, and she sounds like she’s about to smudge the woman’s pretty lipstick, and not in a pretty way.
“Ladies, here at The Exchange Club, we have a special practice.” A pause. “We allow wealthy gentlemen to ‘buy’ beautiful women — that’s you — for a particular price, for a particular act or activity.” Another pause, one in which she seems to be enjoying the possibilities for Jane and me. “If the gentleman wins at the bid, you are his for the night to do whatever activity or activities he has paid you for.” The woman from the stage looks meaningfully at me. “Most of these men pay handsomely, even for dinner, so it could be worth your while.”
Handsomely? I can’t believe I’m even thinking about doing unknown things for the highest-paying gentleman, but I’m quickly realizing that this might be just the solution I need for next semester. And beyond. If I do something like this, I could pay my tuition easily. I wouldn’t have to worry about where the money is coming from. I feel a bit of a smile forming. That means I wouldn’t have to get a job! Which means I wouldn’t have to worry about my grades slipping…
Not to mention, of course, that Paul is here. Paul will likely be the high bidder, if his eyes tell me anything at all. I was already planning to lose my virginity tonight. And hoping it would be to Paul. Why not get paid to do it?
“Let’s do it,” I say, surprised at m
y own readiness.
“What?” Now it’s Jane’s turn to be awestruck.
“Yeah,” I say, taking her hand now. “Let’s do it! This could be just the thing I need, Jane.”
Jane takes an agonizing moment to decide, but finally, she nods. A bright, mischievous smile follows. “You’re right. Let’s do it, girl!”
“Excellent, ladies.” The woman from the stage smiles, and leads us up to where she just was. “Right this way.”
Chapter 9 – Paul
“I told you she’d do it.” Alex isn’t going to let me forget his awesome powers of prediction. He’s been rubbing it in for the last 5 to 10 minutes, ever since Mariah and her friend first took the stage. There are more women up there with her now. At least 8 to 10 more, not including her friend.
While the other women are dressed in more evening wear attire (some of them even look like they’re wearing lingerie), Mariah looks irresistible in her sweater and warm cotton pants. She’s fidgeting, too. Which only makes me want to pet my dick more. It seems to be threatening to spill out of my pants for her. “I told you she’d be fucking willing to play.”
“Now all you have to do is play along,” says Jordan, sipping on some fancy, spiked eggnog.
I barely pay attention to him or the other women. I’m still so fucking happy Mariah showed up. I’m beside myself that she is up on stage. She’s the picture of demure strength. Her head is slightly down, but her posture isn’t shrinking or overly shy. It’s just a little antsy.
I didn’t think I was going to want to buy any girl, Mariah. But I’d buy you. I will buy you. In a heartbeat. Despite my silent vow, I’m feeling a bit out of my league. Which I don’t like. I make excellent money, but I wonder if some of these guys make even more. Will they be able to buy Mariah out from under me? My stomach churns at the thought of anyone else doing to her the things that I want to do to her.
The woman with a fedora suddenly steps forward, grabbing the mic again. “All right, ladies and gentlemen, let’s get tonight’s festivities underway.” A sultry pause. The hush of her breath in the microphone. “I’m not going to bother explaining the rules, since most of you are old heads at this by now.” Her dark, cat-like eyes scan the dim room halfheartedly. “So, all of you newbies will just have to watch and learn, hmm?”
Some low, knowing chuckles ensue. They’re from all around the room.
“All right.” The woman with the fedora prowls the line of beauties, like she’s the lioness in a den of lions, and the assembled women are lambs ready for the taking. “Let’s start with you.” With no hesitation, her finger selects a woman with long, curly black hair.
Obediently, the woman steps forward.
“What are you offering up tonight?” the woman asks, tipping the microphone toward her lips.
“Dinner and conversation,” she says, twisting a handkerchief she’s holding onto for dear life. She blinks like a deer in the headlights.
“A dinner and conversation,” repeats the woman. “A tame start, but sure, dinner and some chitchat.” She looks out at the tables dressed with men. “Who wants to start the bidding?”
A man’s voice chimes in. “I will.”
“Excellent, sir.” A sultry, have a pause. “What is your bid?”
“$1,500 for the lovely lady’s conversation during dinner,” answers the man.
“$1,500.” The woman turns back to the first beauty on the auction block. “Will you take his offer?”
The dark-haired woman smiles. “Yes.” Loudly, trembling she speaks into the microphone.
“$2,000,” offers another man.
Bidding goes on like this until one man says, “One hundred thousand dollars for oral sex.”
A hush falls over the room, until the announcer asks, “Are you willing to explore an offer that is for more than just dinner and conversation?”
“I am not,” says the girl on stage, shaking her head resolutely.
“Okay then,” the woman in the fedora says at once. “Back to the price for dinner and conversation.”
Bidding had gone up to $15,000 and now continues to climb. I start to sweat, wondering what a full night with a woman will cost me. Because that’s what I want, with Mariah.
Finally, bidding pauses at $25,000.
“Sold!” says Ms. Fedora. “Dinner and conversation for $25,000.”
She gestures for the first beauty to exit the stage and join her “buyer” for the evening. “Next will be…” She turns to the line of women awaiting their turn. She points out another woman. This one is big chested, with blonde hair like a country-music star. “You. Come up here, girl.”
The blonde woman steps forward with more energy. She smiles widely, not anxious now that she’s been called on. When asked, she offers a five-star blowjob. The best blowjob of your life.
Immediately, the bidding starts. Like with the first chick, the first bid is immediately turned down, and replaced. But unlike with the first one, within two or three minutes, the price tag for this one is well over two hundred grand for her plump, practiced lips, big tits and hair.
Eventually, she and her blow job are sold for a quarter of a million dollars, and that’s when I know I am for sure out of my league. There has got to be a guy here willing to pay more than I can for Mariah. So, what was the point of coming here? Doing this? Torturing ourselves with champagne dreams we’ll never get to have?
But I don’t have time to get too depressed. The next girl has been chosen. Her offer is for a threesome with the man who wins and his wife, or vice versa. Of course, excitement rises in the crowd at this offer. I get the feeling threesomes are somewhat of a rare breed in this club. The women who have come to dinner, fully decked out in their evening dresses, look excited. The bidding starts higher than the other two, by far. It starts at fifteen grand, and quickly climbs to over five hundred thousand.
I whistle out of disbelief and a bit of discomfort. Half a mill? For a threesome? I sigh, wishing I had a scotch or a bourbon. My eyes seek out Mariah. Whatever. Mariah’s the only one I need to worry about buying. Maybe I’ll get lucky. I do have a lot of money, and why not blow it on this one Christmas gift I so desire? I smile at her, seeing her glance my way. She quickly puts her eyes down, but the smile I see on her lips is big and mischievous.
The blonde and her offer to sleep with both the winning husband and his wife is sold for $750,000.
More girls file up to the microphone after this. One after the other, they make their offers and wait to see how much money they can bring in. Among the offers made, there are multiple offers for dinner. For oral and anal sex. All these offers bring in sizable amounts of money.
But out of all the offers, the ones that pique my interest are the ones for a full night together, in which the girl pledges to do whatever the man wants to do with her and to her for the right price. It’s this kind of offer I’m hoping to get from Mariah when her turn comes. Hers is almost here. Just one or two more women, and she’s up.
These offers bring in mind boggling amounts. Some as high as nearly a million dollars!
“Jesus Christ!” I hiss, feeling my dick and my wallet threaten to go soft. “Almost a million dollars! That’s…”
“Not something you need to worry about, brother,” says Alex. He hasn’t said anything for so long, I almost forgot he was there. “We have money.” He gestures to himself and Jordan. “You forget that all of us make good money, and we brought you here to spend it on you. And ourselves, too, of course.”
Cold sweats break out on my neck, but I’m not going to let anyone see it. “How in the fuck are you so sure I’ll get the girl I want, Alex? Some people make even more money than we do.” My voice is actually hoarse from the stress I’m feeling. If I don’t get to fuck Mariah tonight, I’m going to be so mad.
I look over at Jordan, but he doesn’t seem to be sweating at all. Not that he ever seems worried about anything.
While I’m talking, the next woman goes up for auction. I barely hear what she
offers. But I certainly hear what the other men bid. Again, it’s in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, whatever it is.
“Don’t worry about it, dude.” Jordan takes a big swing of his spiked eggnog. “Mariah’s almost up. You know you’re gonna bid on her, so just relax and get ready to play ball.”
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on Mariah. The way she’s standing up there, shooting glances my way more regularly now. One particularly needy glance from her, and I’m hard all over again. My cock pushes against my pants like a sword against a throat. It throbs, as she’s pointed out of the line by the MC.
Fuck the money, I tell myself, as she shyly takes the mic. I’m gonna bid on you, Mariah. And I’m not letting someone else have you. Not without spending every penny I can.
Chapter 10 – Mariah
“You’re up,” purrs the MC as she adjusts her fedora.
I nod, and step forward toward her. As I move, my stomach pitches with a mix of nerves and excitement. Jane whispers encouragement to me as she lets go of my hand, and I reach out for the microphone.
I take it in fingers that feel clumsy. Almost numb, but not quite. I bring it up to my mouth, feeling my throat shiver.
“And what are you going to offer these fine gentlemen tonight, young lady?” Though I have heard this question asked of other women at least 10 times already, it’s different now that it’s my turn to answer.
It takes me a small eternity to respond. Not because I don’t know what I want, but because my courage is failing me. Having a bunch of different guys looking at me is a lot more intimidating than I ever imagined.
It’s only when I look over at Paul, and see him watching me, that I relax enough to speak. “I’m…” I close my eyes momentarily, feeling completely naked. “I’m offering a whole night with me.” I swallow thickly, and hate how moist it sounds magnified by the speaker.