Chapter 10
Jordan
I’m dreaming! I must be! I have to be! For the millionth time in a minute, I check to see that I am, indeed, awake. To see Bianca standing there in her red and black corset, matching thick-heeled high heels, and in classy, yet understated makeup, is a dream come true. It’s like she’s stepped out of my fantasies and into real life.
When Alex dragged me down here, I thought tonight would be nothing short of a nightmare. Unfulfilled desires. But, as I watch Bianca swagger forward, a mysterious pink bag in tow, I don’t have those worries anymore. My impossible dream, my far-flying fantasy, is reality.
As Bianca locks eyes with me and takes the microphone in her hand. I breathe in deeply. I do so, feeling alive for the first time in a long time. Tuned in and invested in my surroundings. Like I might actually get something worthwhile out of being present — in the here and now — not always preparing to leave. To disconnect.
But it’s when she speaks that I feel this deeply. “I’m offering something a bit different,” she says softly. Her voice may be soft, but it’s strong. Resolute. Her eyes back this up, grabbing me and only me. “To get with me you gotta be brave. Be different than what’s around you."
I’m shaking. From excitement. From something I’ve never experienced with any woman. Desire. Want. Need. And not just in terms of physical release. Need as in she’s become like a drug; like a heartbeat — a light in my soul. Something I could enjoy being addicted to. Chained and made a slave to.
Bianca smiles at me then, and I don’t care if she sees me trembling. What else she may see. My sensitivity. My desire to be under her thumb, even with Alex and his brother here. I know she’s talking to me when she says to be brave. To be “more than what’s around me” to get what I’ll truly love. To be with her.”
The MC seems intrigued by this statement of hers, but not nearly to the level I am. But she puts on a smile. A performance, nonetheless. It’s all about the audience, anyway. “Oooh,” she says. “Mysterious. Just like that little pink bag of yours.” The MC grins and winks. “Is that going to come into the offer at all, miss?”
Bianca doesn’t lose a beat or play to the theatrics. “It might,” she answers simply.
The MC hums, fiddling nervously with her fedora. “Okay. So, what are you offering us tonight, Madame?”
“I’m offering a night of domination to the man who wins my auction.” I notice she emphasizes the word man. Briefly, I wonder if that’s because she’s had people assume certain things about her, or if she’s been hit on one too many times by women. Either way, she also emphasizes the word domination.
That has my attention and the attentions of every other man in the room.
Alex nudges me, giving me a thumbs-up. “Looks like a good option,” he whispers. He looks at me a little more closely. “You like her already, don’t you?”
I take a sip of my overly lovey-dovey drink, wondering why the hell I ordered it. It’s too sweet and fruity for my tastes. “You have no idea,” I mutter. But I’m quick to shut up.
The MC asks a clarifying question. “Are you offering sex to go along with that domination as well?”
I lean forward. Alex and Paul do too, though only halfheartedly compared to me.
Again, though, Bianca doesn’t mince words. She doesn’t play up her offer as many of the other girls have. “No,” she says, making my heart and dick sag simultaneously. At the mention of “sex” both had had their interests peaked, but they’ve completely lost it. Even more so as she continues with, “only my skills as a domme are up for auction. I don’t do sex for sale.”
Paul makes a pained noise as if he just had to watch me get punched in the gut.
I can’t help it. I frown. Deeply. And I let Bianca see it even if I’m planning to bid on her, anyway.
Sex or no sex, I want more time with her. And I’ll pay for it. But I was really hoping for sex with her. She seems like she’d be amazing all the same. My mouth turns down even more, and part of me feels like my dream still might not come true.
But Bianca seems determined to not let that happen. She locks eyes with me adding, “However” — my heart seizes at the pause she takes — “a really good boy might be able to persuade me into sex.” A heavy, hot pause. “I’ve never had a really good boy before.” In both instances “good boy” is heavily emphasized and bleeds into me like a quiet plea. Her eyes push the heart of these words into me, bringing back visions of our first encounter. Of me promising to be at her service.
Without knowing how I know, I know Bianca’s thinking of that encounter too. Pleading for me to embrace it. To follow through on it. To be a man of my word, even if I am her good boy.
Alex leans toward Paul. “What does she mean ‘good boy’? Is that like, her way of saying she’s not found the right guy? That she’s a virgin? Or that she wants a virgin?”
Paul shrugs. “Hell if I know,” he says. “Probably all of the above.”
I chuckle bubbles out of me. You guys don’t know of a fucking thing, do you? For all your bragging about how irresistible you are to women, you don’t understand them at all, do you? I smile, bathing Bianca in my gaze the way a devotee would with a deity. I know what you need, Bianca. And I’m ready to be your good boy, even if macho man over there makes fun of me. I’ll make you mine so you can make me into your perfect gentleman.
The MC comes forward again, taking the mic. “All right, then. Interesting.” She points her dress shoe toward the back. “So, how does that bag play in? Do they get that along with you?”
Bianca glances seriously into the audience. “Yes. They are the tools of my trade. Tools that the man who wins my bed will experience if he’s man enough to hand all control to me.”
The MC whistles, fanning herself. I think it’s more for real than for show. “Got it.” She turns to the audience a moment later, smiling. “Well, shall we start the bidding for her then, gentleman?”
“Yes,” I whisper, thinking I’m the only one who’s ready and raring to go.
Unfortunately for me, though, it seems I’m not the only guy interested in being dominated by Bianca or seeing what’s in her bag. Experiencing the tools of her trade.
“Let’s start, then!” The MC steps back, bringing the rim of the fedora over her eyes.
Surprised that I’m not to be the only guy interested in Bianca, I make sure I’m first to bid. “$20,000,” I say, eager to put the competition at a disadvantage as soon as I can. The steeper the initial climb, the more likely the posers — the not-so-serious ones — will drop out. Which is exactly what I want to do.
Watching Bianca nod to my offer, I think, A lotta you guys like the idea of Bianca, of what she has to offer, but I bet few of you actually have the balls to go through with it. To go as high as I’m gonna go.
For a good solid minute, it seems my thoughts are accurate. My bid isn’t immediately met with a counter offer. But I’m glad when it is because Bianca’s is absolutely worth more than $20,000.
“$38,999,” comes the second offer. From the sound of the voice, it sounds like this guy is younger than me. Eager. Single, perhaps.
Even so, I don’t think about it, I counter his counter. “$50,000,” I say, over a sip of my strawberry-flavored regret.
“$55,000,” comes another offer. Not from the same guy. A different one. He sounds Latin. Bianca nods to him.
Another number pops out of the darkness before I can even get a word in. “$75,000!”
“$125,000!” This number comes in before Bianca, or I register it.
Alex shakes me. “Get in there, Jordan! Go! Rapidfire, rapidfire!” With each of these, he snaps his fingers, imitating shots fired.
“$445,000,” I shout, hoping to get some distance between me and any quicker bids.
Surprisingly, though, it doesn’t work. “$600,000,” comes in directly after mine. The speaker sounds around Paul’s age, but with an edge of kindness he’ll never possess.
“$889,900,” I say, happy to scare the guy with a bigger number.
“1 million!” some guy shouts from the opposite corner of the room. He has a slightly British accent, making me picture how much of a royal pain in the ass he probably is.
“1.5 million,” I bark, standing from my seat. I look Bianca in the eyes, smiling.
She smiles back, her green eyes smoldering with sexy shadows. Unlike Mariah or Jane during their auctions, she hasn’t gotten nervous once. She’s confidently stood there as if she knows what I know: that I’ll be the one to win her, no matter if I’m up against one bid or fifty.
And not once have we broken eye contact, I think, sucking down my sugary drink. There’s a little window of tense silence now. One filled with English Gentleman’s nerves about countering that offer.
But to my surprise, he dares to come back with one. It’s not much, but it’s a valiant effort. “2.5 million,” he says. As he speaks, his throat hums with confidence and desperation equally.
In that moment I decide I’ll end his bidding right here and now. I suck down the rest of my strawberry swirl and triumphantly shout, “$3 million!”
In the muddled silence — caught in Bianca’s bold and laughing eyes — I hear both Paul and Alex balk. “Holy shit,” they say. Oddly, it’s in unison.
The other gentleman around me voice similar sentiments. But I don’t care about any of that. I care about the MC, and when she’s gonna say what she needs to say to release Bianca to me. As far as I’m concerned, the battle is over, and the war is won.
After about a minute of silence, with no counter bid, it’s mine for the taking.
“$3 million,” says the MC, walking like she might faint from that high of a bid on one woman, a dominant woman at that. “Do I have any other takers?” She gasps a little almost as if even that amount of money takes her breath away. “Going once, going twice…” Another dip of silence follows, but Bianca and I are already intertwined. Speaking a language that needs no words. “Sold!” Weakly, the MC gestures for my mistress to leave the stage and go to me.
Bianca does just that, coming within arm’s reach quickly. When my hand comes to hers, I have a sensation that we’ve never parted. Never left each other’s embrace. I kiss her hand, bowing before her. In one hand, she still has her bag. “Lead the way, my lady,” I murmur. I make sure it’s loud enough for Paul and Alex to hear. “I am yours to command,” I add, hearing Paul mutter incredulously. He says something like, “Oh my God, I can’t believe he’s really into that shit.”
“Good boy,” she says lifting me from my bow. “Come with me.” Briefly, I catch her scowling at my company.
“As you wish,” I say, and let her lead me through the tables and toward the door. As we move together, I hold my head high. I put some swagger in my step, more than happy to shake my good fortune in my competition’s collective faces.
That’s right, bitches, I think as we get closer to the doors, for this kind of thing you have to pay to play! And not with just a few hundred thousand dollars! From behind Bianca, I admire her perfect back swishing in its corset. A woman like her is worth so much more than money, but I’m the only one who understands that. And that’s the way it should be.