Highest Bidder Collection

by Lauren Landish

  “Were the rules he gave you like mine?” Again I hand her the piece of paper to read through them. “I can modify some if you’d like.”

  She opens the paper slowly, smoothing it on her lap and reading each line carefully. Her full lips part slightly as she reads silently.

  “He didn’t give me rules like this. I was just to obey him at all times.”

  “And what do you think of that? So long of course that his commands are for your benefit and safety, I think that’s something that’s inherent between the Master-slave relationship.” I trail a finger over her scars as I continue, “But obviously some aspects disregarded your wellbeing, and that’s not alright.”

  She nods her head slowly, clearing her throat and rustling the paper in her hands.

  “It wasn’t a good relationship, no.”

  “It doesn’t sound like he was a Master to me.” That gets her attention. “Violence and abuse shouldn’t be tolerated under any circumstance.” I move my hands to her arms, gently caressing her skin and kiss her neck. “Everything that we do, will be all be consensual. Every bit of training will be outlined for you with known consequences and rewards.” She remains silent, but her eyes are wide and focused on me.

  “Is this the Master-slave relationship you’re looking for?” I ask her, looking deep into her pale blue eyes.

  “Yes,” she answers quietly.

  “I want to dominate you sexually, Katia, but in other ways, too. I want to be responsible for every aspect of your wellbeing. At first, during training, it will be difficult for you. I won’t lie. I want control, and I need honesty and trust in return.”

  “I want to make you cry, kitten. I want to whip you. I want to comfort you after. I want to give you a heightened pleasure that devours your very being.” I kiss her gently on her lips and whisper into her ear. “I want to see my marks on your naked body. My intentions aren’t pure; I assure you that. But I will be a just Master. I will provide for you in ways you never dreamed.”

  She stares at me for a moment, her breathing coming in ragged. My dick is so fucking hard just thinking about all the things I want to do to her.

  I can’t take it any longer. I lean in, gripping the nape of her neck and crushing her lips to mine. She moans into my mouth, parting her lips and letting me take her. I push her down onto the bed; she gasps and her hands fly to my sides, gripping onto me as she kisses me back with the hunger I know she has for me. For this.

  My other hand moves under her dress, my fingertips tracing the lines of her underwear. My dick digs into her hip. I want to take her how she needs to be fucked. But not yet. Not until she gives me what I need.

  I break the kiss, breathing heavily. My dick is hard as fuck and I want to take her right now. But I need to know she wants what I want. I need to be sated. As much as I want her for the person she is, I have needs, too. And I need to know my own desires will be met. I open my eyes, and watch as the dim light reflects off the faint silver scars.

  “I want to leave my mark on you. Not permanent, but weekly.” For the first time in a long time, I feel shame admitting my dark desires. She has yet to react to my needs. I need to know she truly wants this aspect of our presumed relationship. I want to whip her, to bring the blood to her skin and let the wave of endorphins give her a higher pleasure than she could attain otherwise. I need it for myself as well.

  I want her senses overwhelmed. I want her consumed by what I can do to her.

  “Yes, please.” She answers with a soft voice, her eyes half-lidded. “Master, please mark me.”

  “I told you what I want, Katia. But what do you want from me? You want a Master, but what does that mean to you?”

  “I want to feel complete. For me,” she breathes heavily, clasping her hands tightly together, “it means I want to have someone command me.” Her eyes look at me with vulnerability. “I want to satisfy your every need and desire and be good for you.” She brushes the hair out of her face. “I don’t know if that even makes sense,” she says as she shakes her head.

  “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” She flushes at my praise.

  “I need you to agree to these rules. Or tell me which changes need to be made.”

  The lust slowly leaves her as she lies on the bed, her eyes searching my face.

  I remember Madam Lynn’s words. Give her a taste, and ease her into it. But I don’t see how it’s possible. The appeal for me is complete control in all things. I don't know how to meet her halfway.

  I close my eyes, sighing heavily. I’m failing at providing a middle ground.

  “This is what you described, this is what you want. All you need to do is agree,” I tell her with complete sincerity.

  “What about if we meet here?” she says, and her soft voice breaks the silence. “I agree to all of your rules, I just want our time limited to within the club for now. Until I'm ready.” She swallows thickly, her eyes darting to my face and then back down to the lush comforter on the bed.

  She looks guilty and uncomfortable. I touch her neck, where my collar should go. Faint marks of the collar she wore before are still there. Scars proving how it wasn’t placed there with her consent. “I still want to collar you, but I’ll take what you’re willing to give me for now.” She looks at me with surprise. I suppose she wasn't expecting that.

  “I’ll show you what it means to be mine while we’re here. But I expect you to adhere to the rules when you’re away from me as well.”

  “I will.”

  “Katia, what does being a Master mean?” I ask her to gauge her understanding.

  “It means you own a Slave,” she answers simply.

  “Is that all it means?” I ask her.

  She looks at me with curiosity.

  “I want you to think about it.”

  “I will, Master,” she answers with her forehead still pinched and her eyes narrowed as though she’s really thinking about it. I hope she is.

  I grab the gift bag and pull out the pale blue box from within, setting it in her lap. “I want you to wear my chain until you’re ready for my collar.”

  She opens the box slowly.

  Her fingertips gently trace the thin gold chain. It’s cut with a diamond edge so that it sparkles in even the faintest of light.

  I take the box from her hands, removing the chain and holding it up so she can turn for me. She lifts her hair over her shoulders and barely breathes as I lock it into place. I brush her soft skin with my fingers as I lay it against her collar.

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you, Master, for such a gift.” The sight of her wearing my chain excites a dark part of me that’s difficult to tame.

  “You’ll never remove this. Only to wash, and then it will be put back into place.” I have the accessory in another box in my jacket. But it will have to wait.

  She answers obediently, “I promise.”

  Chapter 12

  Katia

  TWO WEEKS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

  This doesn’t feel real. I step into the rear entry of Club X, my fingers gently trailing along the beautiful chain around my neck. Each step makes me feel the lingering ache between my legs. Isaac has been thoroughly using me. And I’ve been thoroughly enjoying it.

  It’s been over a week of seeing him every night, letting him take me and dominate my body, bringing me to sexual heights that I never dreamt possible. I enjoy our time together immensely, earning my pleasure, doing everything he commands so he rewards me. I live for it. I never stay here though. It’s temporary. Every day I know I will see him, and I obey him when I’m outside of the club. My fingers gently run along the thick wallpaper lining the hall to the private rooms.

  I don’t want to stay here, and neither does he. But we have different reasons. He wants me all to himself 24/7. I don’t. I can’t commit to that.

  It’s gotten to the point where I can’t wait until nightfall to see him, finding myself anxious all day out of my mind at work, which is unusual for me. Usually the adorable, playful dogs at the
shelter can make me forget anything.

  But not Isaac.

  I feel guilty, knowing that I should be devoting my full attention to my dogs when I'm with them, but I can’t get my mind off Isaac. He told me I’m free not to think about him at work, but I can’t stop. He’s in my thoughts every waking second. All I can think about is pleasing him and becoming a better Slave for him. A better pet. His kitten. A small smile tips the corners of my lips up and my cheeks heat with a blush. I love how he calls me kitten.

  Isaac wants me at his house under his command at all times, and he tells me every night that it would please him. I crave it, but I can’t pull the trigger. It’s so close to the fantasy I’ve been dreaming of, but I’m terrified that once I accept, it’ll turn into something terrifying. Something like my past.

  The warmth leaves me, replaced with a chill that makes me hold myself, my arms crossed, my hands gripping my forearms. I can’t let that happen.

  I make my way to the bed, my thin, see-through robe flowing out behind me, confident in where I’m going even under the dim light. I’ve been through these halls enough over the past week that I won’t get lost. The guards know me, and they know where I belong. Unlocking the door for me and letting me in to wait for my Master.

  I suck in a deep breath as I take in my surroundings, enjoying the rich smell and all the luxurious materials in the room. I’m still not used to all this yet. It doesn’t seem real. I’m happy thinking of it as a fantasy.

  I walk over and sit down on the lush bed, sighing as I gently place my palms on my upper thighs and wait for him. Isaac has forbidden me to be anywhere else inside the club without him until I wear his collar. I can only walk to his private room, and that’s it. I take in a shuddering breath at the thought of being collared again.

  I don’t know why I just don’t accept his collar. He said he’ll give me one with a buckle at first. One that can be easily removed, and has no lock. But even that makes me feel uneasy. The light chain that hangs at my collarbone is bearable, but anything tight around my neck elicits more fear than pride.

  I swallow thickly and try not to think about it as my mind turns toward tonight.

  Yes, tonight. I’ve been looking forward to tonight.

  My heart begins to race with excitement and my stomach twists with anxiety as I think about what lies ahead. Tonight Isaac’s showing me off. I’m going to be on the stage while he demonstrates subspace to the club. He’ll whip me for our shared pleasure, and bring me closer and closer to the intoxicating state. I claw my fingers into the lush bedding, needing something to cling to as my legs tremble with weakness. I’m more than ready for it. In many ways I’m excited, but in others, I’m terrified. I still have faint raised marks from the cat o' nine tails he used this past weekend. They’re nearly gone, but they’ll be replaced with new ones tonight. It’s odd how the thought of a collar causes fear, but the idea of being whipped and flogged only arouses me.

  I have trust in Isaac. The pain is temporary, and quickly turns to pleasure. He doesn’t break my skin. He doesn’t hurt me to cause pain. It’s all for pleasure.

  I bring a hand up to my neck as I think back to when Isaac took me to a level of pleasure so intense that I lost control of my consciousness. After over an hour of him playing with my body, doing whatever he saw fit, I was awake and aware, but I couldn’t react as I normally would. It was almost like being in a trance, my body humming with pleasure so intense that I was literally paralyzed. He commanded me not to cum anymore, but I couldn’t help myself. Worse, I couldn’t respond to him. I lay there limp on the spanking bench, feeling nothing but the tingling delight of the intense pleasure overwhelming me.

  Isaac yelled at me and the whip ripped across my skin, but instead of the sharp spikes of pain I felt only moments before, I felt a rush of intense heat, lighting every nerve ending in my body aflame. My nipples pebbled and I moaned loudly attempting to move, but only weakly thrashing my head as my pussy spasmed and a warmth of fluid leaked from my hot core down my inner thigh.

  “Kitten,” I remember him asking me, his voice full of a threat. “Are you deliberately disobeying me?” He growled as he gripped the hair at the base of my neck and lifted my head up.

  “No,” I breathed the word, or at least that’s what I think I said. Or tried to say. “Master,” I barely whispered, pleading for his mercy and understanding. If I could have felt fear, I would have in that moment. But all I could feel was the heated pleasure and the desire for more of his touch. He raked his teeth along my neck before crashing his lips against mine, and then he lined his massive cock up with my dripping wet pussy and slammed into me so hard I screamed.

  I came over and over and over as he tore into me, fucking me like he owned me. And in that moment he did. And every moment since then.

  He’s given me so much. But I’ve yet to give him the one thing he’s asked for.

  “Kitten.”

  I gasp, as I look up to see Isaac standing in front of me, dressed in a crisp black suit, looking sexy as fuck, his gorgeous green eyes watching me with an intensity that causes me to shiver. I was so engrossed in my fantasy, I didn’t even hear him come in. “Master,” I say reverently.

  “You look beautiful,” he compliments me, his voice low and filled with desire, his eyes roving over my body.

  A blush burns my cheeks as I softly reply, “Thank you, Master.” I want to be perfect for him; I want to please his every need.

  So why won’t you wear his collar then? Why don’t you allow him to have you when he desires? a voice in the back of my head says. My inner voice needs to shut the fuck up.

  He walks toward me, each step making my breath come in faster and faster. His fingers trail along my shoulder at the edge of the silk robe. He bends down, leaving an open-mouth kiss on my neck and then a sweet, chaste kiss on my lips. I have to work hard not to lean into him. I want more. So much more.

  “You’ll show yourself on the stage,” Isaac says, holding my gaze, the look in his eyes making my skin prick. It’s a statement of a fact.

  “Yes, Master,” I say obediently. In his proximity, I feel nothing but desire. Overwhelmed by the urge to please him and be rewarded.

  “You know that it’s safe for you to do so, and that I would never ask you to something that would cause you harm.”

  “Yes, Master,” I agree. It’s essential for the demonstration. And I don’t mind. I’m proud to be used by my Master in front of them.

  Isaac runs a long finger along my jawline, stopping to hook my chin with it. “You’ll be perfect tonight,” he says and his voice is overflowing with ardor, and I’m getting even more turned on by the deep cadence, my sore pussy clenching with need. “Many of the members here have no idea how to perform this act. We’ll be doing them a service in teaching them how to to do it safely.”

  I nod my head, my heart racing in tandem with the want that’s pulsing my pussy.

  Isaac looks like he wants to say more as he brushes my hair behind my shoulders and kisses my neck, but then he lets out a sigh. “I missed you today,” he admits.

  My heart swells at his admission. I missed him as well. I want to tell him that I’m sorry as a deep hurt settles in my chest. It’s my fault. I’m broken, and can’t give him what he deserves. Because of my past. Because of the Master who had me before him.

  Isaac hooks my chin and pulls my lips to his, seemingly reading my mind. “You will only think of me when you’re with me,” he whispers against my lips.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He pets my hair, soothing me.

  “Come, kitten.” Attaching a thin, matching leash to my chain, he leads me from the room, to the stage.

  Chapter 13

  Isaac

  “Dahlia is all wound up now,” Lucian says with a smirk. He’s been excited since he got here. I’ve never seen him so happy.

  “It’s not as easy as it looks,” I warn him. He enjoyed the show last night. Everyone did. Subspace is a particularly alluring mental side
effect of BDSM. Katia was a perfect example last night. At the end of the show, I only had to blow gently on her clit to make her cum. She’ll be sore tonight. I instinctively look toward the foyer as I put the cold beer glass to my lips.

  “No shit. She also doesn’t have a pain tolerance like your kitten does.”

  My body tenses as he calls Katia by my pet name for her. It’s odd how I don’t mind a room full of capable, powerful men watching my sweet pet cum on command and get so lost in pleasure that she’s incoherent, yet the mention of her pet name by another man has me on edge. By my best friend, no less.

  He raises his hands in defense. “Your kitten.” He emphasizes “your,” and my hackles lower some.

  “You’ve been on edge lately,” he says softly. Lowering his voice, he asks, “Is it because of the,” he clears his throat, “the hit?”

  My blood runs cold, and I shake my head. I hate even mentioning something like that once it’s done. “That went off easily, just like I told you.”

  He nods his head, a grim look on his face as he takes a sip of his whiskey. “You’ll never know how much good that did for her.”

  I looked into Dahlia’s uncle for Lucian. Killing that bastard did the world a justice. A man who hurts little girls doesn’t deserve to live.

  “I’m happy to put her mind at ease.” I truly am. Life and death are two things I take with serious consideration. It was easy to find that prick. With a criminal record and a current location available in the databases because of his past conviction, he was an easy target.

  I look down at my hands as I think about the men I’ve killed. I can count them all on both hands. And each deserved their deaths. But I hate it. I hate the man I am.

  With all this blood on my hands, I’d never be able to keep a woman like Katia. She doesn’t deserve a murderer. But I can give her justice. I can heal her before I have to set her free.