Chapter 7 – Maxim
Luckily, Terri is coming my way. She’ll help clear up this mystery about the new girl.
“Maxim, so glad you could make it,” she says, sidling up to me and whispering in my ear. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I have some good news for you.”
“I have a question first,” I ask her.
“Of course,” she says. “Anything you need, just ask.”
I’m their biggest spender. I know she’ll do anything to make me happy. But only the new girl can do that tonight.
“I’m just making sure I understand the color system tonight,” I whisper. “The bracelet color representing the level I most like to purchase on special occasions such as tonight is now… pink… correct?”
I’m almost afraid to ask, thinking for sure that the answer is no.
But she just nods and smiles.
“Yes, Maxim, that’s the level you prefer. And as always we appreciate your patronage.”
Now my cock is standing at full attention, imagining the many different ways it wants to defile and degrade the innocent- looking girl standing on stage.
I can’t believe someone who looks like she does— and who just showed up here for her first time, ostensibly standing in for a friend— would let me do such vile acts to her. But I suppose she knows the price tag for that level of service is very high.
Maybe she needs to pay for college. My money will pay for that and then some.
“And Bianca shared some good news with me,” Terri continues.
I look at her, intrigued. What other good news could there be, now that I know this girl will let me do what I want with her?
Bianca is one of the top girls at the club and helps Terri keep things running smoothly. She gathers intelligence among the girls and passes the word on to Terri so that Terri can let clients such as me know things that are of import to us. So, I’m interested to hear what Bianca has found out about the sweet young thing waiting for me to buy her.
Terri leans in very close and cups her hand up around my ear.
“She’s a virgin,” she says.
“What?”
I say this too loud, and the man next to me clears his throat, as he’s straining to hear the announcements being made on stage. It’s all old hat to me— they’re stating the opening bid for the first girl. But I just found out that the one I want has never been touched. I wish I could say to him, Excuse me for being just a bit excited.
“That’s what Bianca says,” Terri repeats, with a satisfied smile on her face.
I do my best to act restrained. I don’t want her to think I’m inclined to spend any more at her club than the outrageous amount that I already do. I know she’s about to go whisper the same “good news” into the ears of another few potential bidders and I know she knows I’ll be the one to win the bidding. So, she already knows I’ll spend a fortune tonight.
“I’m going to be needing the Enclave tonight,” I inform her, mentioning a private room where high-paying patrons take a girl when they want to skip the pretense of dinner and get down to the important matters on the agenda for the evening.
“I figured as much,” she says, nodding as if it was a given. “And I’d already reserved it for your use tonight. Although, being that it’s a Valentine’s Day special tonight, there are quite a few others who are wanting it as well.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, returning my full attention to the girl on stage. “And that’s understood.”
The new girl is lovely and innocent and she has no idea what’s in store for her tonight once I buy her time, her body, her heart and her soul. It’s Valentine’s Day and I’m going to make her mine. In every way possible.
Chapter 8 – Celeste
“You’re up,” Bianca says, nudging me towards the front of the stage.
I’ve felt frozen in a mixture of fear and excitement since I got out here. But now I force my feet to walk in the direction of the “auctioneer.” I still can’t get over how crazy all of this is.
“Next up we have Rach— wait a second,” the auctioneer says, as he reads his notes.
Bianca walks over to him and whispers something in his ear.
“Standing in for Rachel tonight, we have the lovely Celeste,” the auctioneer continues, after clearing his throat. “She is a nineteen- year- old university student studying political science and creative writing, who seeks a career in journalism. She enjoys playing the guitar and listening to music.”
Rachel must have given him that bio, and it’s not exactly accurate. I haven’t played the guitar since high school. And I already have a job in journalism. I won an award from my school’s journalism department that led to a part-time gig writing for the Phoenix Independent about political ethics.
In fact, if anyone from my job found out I was here— doing this— I might get fired. On the other hand, I think, squinting out into the audience, I’m sure there are some high- up politicians here and that this little gig could lead to a great expose.
“She’s wearing a pink bracelet,” the auctioneer announces, which reminds me that I can’t expose them for much, since I’m only going to be having Valentine’s Day dinner with them. “This is her first time here at The Exchange. We’ll start the bidding at ten thousand dollars.”
I look up at the auctioneer, trying hard not to let my mouth fall open in amazement.
Ten thousand dollars?
Someone is going to pay that much just have dinner with me?
“Here,” someone says, and I locate the man in the audience who is holding up a heart-shaped sign, indicating that he is placing a bid.
He’s staring right at me— as are most of the other men right now, of course, since I’m in the process of being auctioned off— but my eyes immediately lock on his. He’s so attractive.
Rachel was right. These guys are not only rich but also hot.
“I’ve got ten thousand dollars; can I get fifteen thousand dollars?” the auctioneer says, and someone else raises their sign.
I look over to that man but he is short and pudgy. So, I turn my eyes back to the first bidder.
Please, my eyes beg him. Please bid higher. Don’t make me have dinner with that guy.
He smiles at me, his light brown eyes— the color of coffee with cream— twinkling as if he knows what I’m trying to silently convey to him.
“Twenty- five thousand,” he says, without waiting for the auctioneer to increase the bid.
I expect there to be gasps or shocked reactions but everyone acts as if this is normal.
“I hear twenty- five thousand, can I get fifty thousand?” the auctioneer continues, not missing a beat and in fact doubling the price.
Fifty thousand?
“Fifty thousand,” says yet a third man, holding up his sign.
No way. Is this a dream?
I try to remember what Rachel had said about what percentage of the total amount of money bid I get. I wasn’t really listening because I’m only doing this as a favor for her— not the money— and I was more worried about the particulars of the strange arrangement to which I hesitantly agreed.
But if I’m remembering correctly, I think she said I get fifty percent, plus tips. Twenty- five thousand? For having dinner with a stranger?
I look back over at the first bidder and can’t help but add:
With a rich, handsome stranger?
Count me in.
No wonder Rachel works here. I can’t believe she would give up all this money just for Billy. She must be really into him. I hope he’s already proposed to her by now. Or maybe he’s waiting until after dessert.
“One hundred thousand,” says the first bidder, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Although he’s seated, I can tell that he’s tall. His shoulders sit high above those of the men sitting on either side of him, and he has impeccable posture. He has a full head of dark brown, wavy hair. I don’t know very much about suits but his looks very fancy and expensive.
He looks quite a bit older than me— old enough to be my father— but there’s also something sexy about that fact. I never thought I’d be into an older man and I get annoyed by the clichéd stereotype of all the old men and young girls in this city.
But if they’re being paid fifty percent of one hundred thousand dollars, and if the man isn’t that old, but is a sexy kind of old, then I suppose I shouldn’t have been so harsh in my judgment. Or maybe I’m just making excuses. Because I would actually like to have dinner with this mystery bidder. And maybe even more than that.
As the bidding increases— it’s up to one hundred and fifty thousand, and now two hundred thousand!— so does my heart rate. I also notice that I’m becoming noticeably wet.
I shift the position in which I’m standing, as if other people can see how moist my panties are. I’m a bit embarrassed that I’m so turned on by the fact that I’m being auctioned off like cattle, as I’d so sarcastically called it when I was talking to Rachel. But the first bidder continues to be the high bidder no matter who else bids, and I enjoy the fact that he wants me so badly he’s willing to pay any price.
Finally, the bidding is up to seven hundred fifty thousand dollars. The second bidder— the short, pudgy one— seems intent on winning this bidding war.
“Eight hundred thousand,” he calls out, rather meekly now.
He’s holding his sign up, but a bit lower than he usually does, as if he’s getting tired.
Come on, I will the first bidder. You’re almost there…
Sure enough, he stands up, not even bothering to bring his sign with him.
“One million dollars,” he shouts.
Now the men in the audience— and the other women still left up on stage— react like I expected them to in the beginning: sighs and gasps can be heard all around.
The second bidder lets out a flustered sigh.
“Fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You can have her.”
Thank goodness.
As the winning bidder curves his full lips into a smile, his eyes tell me he plans to get every penny’s worth with me out of his million dollar price point. It’s becoming clear to me that he wants me to be more than just a dinner date this Valentine’s Day. And it’s also becoming clear to me that I’m just fine with that idea.