Star
As the lead singer of the band, or the auctioneer, or whatever he was, led me from the stage, I felt like I was on some kind of weird drug. As if this night wasn’t terrible and strange enough already, I’d just been sold for more money that I’d ever imagined making in my entire life. And what’s more, the buyer was the total stud from the diner earlier. It was like the universe was lining up in the most bizarre way possible.
Once I was off the stage, the middle-aged woman who’d supervised our makeovers rushed up to me.
“Holy shit, girl!” she said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “That’s a new record! I knew that you were gonna set the bidding off with that little booty of yours, but I wouldn’t have even dreamed we’d get that high! You just made me a shitload of money, sweetie!”
I couldn’t even begin to describe how much I didn’t care about that.
“Do … do I get to leave now?” I asked, my voice still just as small as it’d been all night whenever I tried to talk.
“Well, kind of,” said the woman. “I mean you just saw what happened, right? You just got sold for a half a million bucks. You’re not ‘leaving’ to go anywhere but wherever he wants you to.”
“But this isn’t legal!” I shouted, finally able to at least somewhat express myself. “You can’t just buy and sell people like this!”
The woman let out a dry laugh, the kind you’d make at a little kid trying to seriously argue his way into having ice cream for dinner.
“Honey, buying and selling people is what we do. And not just little cutie pies like yourself; we’ve got just about every cop in the area on our payroll. Trust me, we’ve been at this game for a while; you’re not getting out of it unless your new owner gives the okay.”
I felt totally hopeless. Part of me wondered frantically if she was bluffing, but I knew deep down that she was being truthful. An operation like this wouldn’t be able to work unless the cops were on board.
The woman took one last look at me when we reached the end of the hallway.
“Yeah, you look real nice,” she said. “Believe it or not, I had a body like yours once. Couldn’t get the boys to leave me alone. No one paid a half a million for me, though.”
She laughed again.
“What’s going to happen now?’ I asked, noticing that we were standing in front of a large door.
“You’re going to meet your new owner, of course. He’s going to confirm that you’re … as advertised, and take you to your new home. And word of advice? Keep the whining to a minimum. I know you’re new to all this, but nothing annoys these boys like a whiny brat who won’t accept her circumstances.”
I didn’t know what to say. But before I could even attempt to come up with words, the woman rapped hard on the door.
“You ready for us in there?” she asked.
A moment passed, the air heavy with tension.
“Send her in.”
The woman flashed me one last smirk.
“Good luck, honey. I’m sure he’ll take real good care of you.”
With that, she opened the door, put her hand on my shoulder, and gave me a little shove inside. I stumbled into the room, which was so bright that I had to rub my eyes before I could notice anything. Once my vision came to, I looked around, noticing that the room was a perfect square with mirrored walls. The light from above seemed to be bright and clear for the purpose of giving any in there a clear, direct view of anyone else inside.
I realized right away that it was a room meant for a buyer to inspect his merchandise.
And speaking of the buyer, there was one other feature of the space: a large white chair at the far end, where my buyer was currently seated.
“There she is.”
I turned towards the direction of the voice, startled. Sure enough, there he was: the man from the diner. In spite of my circumstances, I couldn’t but notice once again just how goddamn gorgeous he was. With him sitting in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, I laid eyes on his thick, muscular arms, his narrowed blue eyes, and his stunningly gorgeous face. He was so good-looking that I was able to forget just for a second that he’d just bought me like I was nothing more than a cut of meat. As soon as I regained awareness of my situation, my hands shot to my breasts, covering myself up as best I could.
“Might as well get over your modesty now,” he said, his voice a low, purr. “Not like you’re gonna have much need for it.”
He looked me over with the careful eye of an art appraiser.
“Turn around,” he commanded.
I did as he asked, feeling exposed all the while.
“Nice,” he said.
A moment passed as he looked me over.
“What … what are you gonna do to me?” I asked. “Are you gonna kill me?”
He chuckled.
“Nah,” he said. “We got a few sick freaks around here, but you don’t gotta worry about that. “As for what I’m gonna to do you … well, you’ll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, you’re just gonna do whatever I tell you.”
I heard him stand up and walk over, his heavy boots thudding with each step. Soon, he was standing behind me.
“And here’s your first order: don’t speak a goddamn word unless spoken to.”
He was close, his breath hot on my skin. Despite my fear, I felt goose bumps break out across my body. This was followed by the firm clasp of his hand on my right ass cheek.
“Real fuckin’ nice,” he said. “You got a one-in-a-million ass, you know that?”
I didn’t know how to respond to this.
“Now turn.”
I did, coming face to face with him, this man who now owned me. He drew in a slow breath through his nostrils, a wicked little smile forming on his red, sensual lips. Leaning in close, he took in another deep breath through his nose, this time smelling me.
“Goddamn, you even smell like heaven.”
He stepped away, looking me head-to-toe again.
“Pull down your top. Show me those tits.”
I nodded, reaching up and slipping my fingertips under the shoulder straps of my teddy. I pulled the top down a bit, just enough to expose my breasts.
“Perfect pink nipples,” he said. “Cover up.”
I did. It was at this command that a strange feeling came over me: something about the way he was telling me what to do … it felt good. I couldn’t explain it. But having this man bark his commands at me … I don’t know. Something about him and his voice made me not want to resist.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“T-Tiffany,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, not that goddamn stupid stage name. What’s your real name.”
“… Star.”
“‘Star’,” he said, as if trying it on for size. “Well, it’s true—you’re a goddamn star; a star worth a half million fuckin’ dollars.”
I didn’t know what to say to this. I’d been so used to being flat broke all my life that the idea that something about me would inspire a man to spend so much money on me was just crazy.
“You’ll do just fine,” said the man as he turned and walked back to the other side of the room.
He put his hand on the doorknob and prepared to leave. But before he could, words blurted out of my mouth.
“Hey!” I said. “What’s your name?”
He stopped in place, standing still for a moment. Then he turned his head slightly, just enough that I could see the top half of his head, his shaved blonde hair bright in the clear light.
“Name’s Tank.”
With that, he left.
Tank … I thought, the word hanging in my mind. There was no doubt that it was a nickname, but it fit him well—he sure as hell was built like a tank.
I stood in the room for a minute longer, unsure of what to do with myself. But before too much time passed, the door that I’d come in from opened up and two girls rushed in. They took me out and led me to a small, private dressing room where they took off my teddy, replacing it with a black lace bra and panty set. Then they put in a skintight black dress with matching heels. My hair was given a onceover, and when they were done they rushed me out of there. We went outside to where a black mini-limousine was waiting for me. Without a word of explanation, the doors were shut, the driver started the engine, and we were off.
I spent the half hour or so drive thinking about how strange this all was. The back of the limo was spacious and comfortable, which was a nice change of pace from the damn cage I’d been in. I thought about Tank during the drive, unable to shake the image of him from my mind. I should’ve hated him; I should’ve been wishing he was dead—after all, he now owned me and therefore was the one thing standing between me and freedom. But I couldn’t seem to think ill of him. All I could think about was his face, rugged and beautiful at the same time And his body … damn. Those arms were unlike anything I’d ever seen before- thick, tanned, and solid.
The car hit a bump, and the image of Tank was replaced by that of Dakin. Dakin … that little fucker. It only made sense that after what he’d done to me he’d end up at that auction, trying to buy me just like he’d bought my home. I thought back to him showing up early yesterday morning, realizing that he wanted to do for free what Tank had paid a half a million for. I shuddered when I realized that if I hadn’t gotten up when I did I might very well have been Dakin’s property rather than Tank’s.
But then again, what made me think being owned by Tank would be any better? For all I knew, he wanted to tie me up and whip me with extension cords or something.
Right when the thought of that entered my head, I couldn’t help but picture it. To my shock, part of me was just fine with it …
I shook my head hard, trying to snap myself back to reality.
I needed to think about getting the hell out of this situation. Before I could come up with even a single idea, however, the limo pulled in front of a massive house. The place was huge—three stories on a large tract of land, a façade of ornate columns, a curving driveway in front, the whole area lit up with bright lights. It reminded me of what I imagined a celebrity’s home in the Hollywood Hills might look like. A huge chrome motorcycle parked out front was the only hint that someone like Tank lived here.
“Where are we?” I asked through the limo partition.
But of course, the driver said nothing. We pulled into the long curve of the driveway, coming to a stop right in front of the large set of stairs that led to the column-flanked double doors. The driver got out, opened the door, and led me to the front doors. He pressed the bell and, his job complete, he went back to his limo and drove off, leaving me alone.
The doors opened moments later, revealing Tank. I was shocked as hell to see him there. Sure, I knew that he’d bought me and his place was likely where I was headed, but this wasn’t at all where I’d imagined he’d live. I expected something like a rundown apartment above a bar. Then again, he had dropped half a million on me.
“God-fucking-damn you look good,” he said, his eyes moving up and down my body. “Come in.”
I stepped into the entry hall of the apartment, and I was blown away by how … fancy the place was. There was classical art on the walls, the floor and columns were marble, and a grand spiral staircase led to the second and third floors. It looked like a Roman palace.
“You might want to close your mouth,” said Tank. “Your jaw’s dropping a little.
Sure enough, it was. I shut my mouth and felt embarrassed.
“This is … a really nice place,” I said, feeling like I should say something nice, like I were visiting a friend’s house and not a biker who’d paid money for me.
“You sound surprised,” he said, leading me down the hallway further into the house.
“I mean, after that party, or whatever it was, and, um …” my voice trailed off.
“The fact that I’m a dirty-ass biker?” he said with a smirk.
“Um, yeah. That,” I said, figuring I might as well be honest.
“Just because I like riding on my hog doesn’t mean I can’t have an appreciation for the finer things, you know.”
Just who is this guy? I asked myself.
He led me into a spacious lounge that looked out over the backyard where a long, well-lit pool stretched out into the distance, a bright, full moon hanging over it. Tank walked over to an ornate bar, fetching a bottle of champagne and two glasses from behind it. Walking back over, he popped the cork and filled the two glasses. He held out one of them to me and raised his glass for a toast.
“To your new living arrangements,” he said.
I wasn’t yet sure this was something to celebrate, but I figured that I didn’t have much say in what was going on. I toasted him and took a sip of my drink. It was crisp, fruity, and delicious.
“Sit down,” he said.
I backed up to the couch behind me and took a seat.
“Please,” I said. “Tell me what’s going on. What are you going to do with me?”
“Glad you asked,” said Tank. “Because here’s the deal: first of all, you’re my property. Don’t ever forget that. You do what I say, when I say it. No backtalk—you won’t like what happens if you try any of that shit. Second, you stay here at the house unless I give you permission otherwise. Help yourself to whatever you want in the kitchen —I don’t give a shit—but stay out of my room. I’m giving you partial freedom on a trial basis. You can have free rein to go around the property, but if you try and make a break for it I will find you—make no mistake. And when I do, you’re not gonna like what happens.”
I gulped hard. Something told me that a man like him had the resources to track me down if I did try to make an escape. Not like I’d get far—there was a tall fence all around the property and then there were woods beyond that.
“You may think I’m being a real hard-ass, but you’ll be thanking your lucky fuckin’ stars when you start to hear about what goes on with the other girls who got bought. That motherfucker Dakin? He keeps his girls in a goddamn cage.”
I shuddered at the thought; I knew there was a reason I’d gotten a bad vibe from him. Even before I knew he was the type to break into a girl’s home when she was sleeping.
“Oh,” said Tank. “And you owe me.”
“What?” I asked, wondering just what the hell he could possibly mean.
“Your little dine-and-dash stunt. I was nice enough to cover your bill.”
“Um, thank you,” I said, not really sure of how to respond to that.
“So, let’s start out our little arrangement by asking you this: what are you gonna do to pay me back?”
“What?”
“You heard me. How I see it is that right now, you’re about twenty-five bucks in the hole. And you’re flat broke. So what’re you going to do to make things square?”
I nervously sipped my champagne, as if trying to buy time.
“Umm … what would you like me to do?”
A smirk crossed Tank’s lips.
“That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say.”
He started off towards the hallway but turned as he was leaving.
“Stand up and wait right there for me. I don’t want you to move a muscle.”
I gulped hard, and he was gone. I felt totally helpless, which I think was his intention. Tank had complete control of the situation, and he knew it. There wasn’t a trace of doubt or hesitation in his voice. He knew what he wanted, and he seemed certain that he was going to get it. So I stayed stone-still as he was gone. Soon, he returned, a small black box tucked under his beefy arm. He set the box down on a nearby table and clicked it open. I couldn’t quite see what was in it since that would’ve required me to turn my head.
“Good girl,” he said. “Just where I left you. Then again, I was looking forward to punishing you if you disobeyed.”
He rummaged through his case for a moment and withdrew something that looked like a big black ring. With slow, easy steps, Tank moved in front of me and held the thing up.
It was a leather bondage collar. I gasped as he showed it to me.
“What is this?” he asked.
“It’s … a collar.”
“Smart girl. Tell me what kind wears a collar.”
“An animal; a pet.”
“A pet—that’s right on the fuckin’ money.”
He extended the collar to me.
“You have my permission to move. Take this and put it on.”
I reached up and took the collar, which was surprisingly heavy. I stared at it for a moment, still unable to believe what I was holding.
“I didn’t say ‘look at it’; I said ‘put it on’.”
I nodded, unfastening the collar’s latch and placed it around my neck.
“Nice,” he said. “Very nice.”
He finished the rest of his champagne with a single swig.
“Now, if a collar is what a pet wears, and you’re wearing one right now, what does that make you?”
“A … pet.”
“Very good. And that’s what you are as long as you’re here: you’re my pet. Here to please me.”
He set his empty glass down and plopped onto the couch.
“Never really liked that champagne shit; I like the hard stuff better. So, pet—why don’t you make me a drink.”
I looked up at him, my eyes wide. Part of me still felt like he was joking.
“Um, what would you like?” I asked, deciding to play along for now.
“Whiskey. Neat,” he said, sitting back in his seat, his eyes scanning over every inch of my body.
I made my way to the bar and took down the necessary items. As I assembled the drink, Tank picked up a nearby remote and pressed a button, causing a series of lights to illuminate on a nearby speaker system and raunchy rock music to start playing. The drink made, I walked back over to Tank. But before I could cover the distance, he held up his hand.
“Don’t walk like that,” he said, his low voice carrying over the music.
“Umm, like what?” I asked.
I had no idea what he was talking about.
“You’ve got a great ass and killer fuckin’ legs. I want to see you use them.”
A strange little sound escapes my lips. What did he want me to do? I’d been living with my grandma for the majority of my life; I had no idea what “be sexy” meant.
“Um, how?” I asked.
He let out a dry chuckle.
“Don’t walk like a damn linebacker. Walk like a woman. Walk with your hips.”
I moved back to the bar, as though we were rehearsing and I had been given a second chance.
“Put the drink on that tray. When I ask for something, you use that. Don’t ‘hand’ me anything.”
I gulped, feeling tense under the commands. But strangely, I didn’t feel tense because I was mad at him for telling me what to do; I felt tense because I wanted to get it right. I set the drink on the nearby silver tray and held the thing with two hands. Then, taking a deep breath, I walked over to him again. I tried what he said, focusing on my hips and ass while I walked.
“Nope,” he said. “Do it again.”
Back to the bar, and then another deep breath. I focused harder this time, even going so far as to picture my legs in my mind as I began to walk. Then, I started.
“Nope. Nope.”
I opened my mouth to finally protest, but a harsh glare and a raised palm made it clear that he didn’t want to hear a peep. I worried that tears might start forming in my eyes at any second; I just didn’t know what I was doing wrong. But strangely, even more than frustration, the need to do what he said, to please Tank, burned in me. As much as I knew that I should’ve thrown the tray on the ground and told him to screw off, even greater was the urge to walk the way he wanted, to make him happy.
Closing my eyes and picturing my ass in my mind as best I could, I started over towards him again. I tried to be as conscious of my body as I could, letting the muscles of my rear and legs do all the work. And as I did, I felt a strange sway develop in my step. My ass moved from side to side as I walked, and I felt a sexuality exude from me that I never knew I had. Opening my eyes, I saw Tank’s gaze focused on my hips as I made my way across the long lounge. A little smirk formed on his lips, and I took that as a sign that he was pleased with me.
And when I realized he was, I was pleased too. When I reached Tank, I bent over at the waist, letting my ass stick into the air. He took the glass off the tray, his eyes locked onto my rear as he sipped his whiskey.
What the hell is wrong with me? I thought. Why is turning this guy on making me feel so … hot?
I thought about my grandma’s lessons, how she’d told me how “good girls” were supposed to act. I knew she’d just wanted to protect me, but damn … did being bad always feel this good?
“Set the tray down,” said Tank.
I complied and stood before him, my hands on my hips.
“Now strip.”
I gulped hard. Walking sexy was one thing, but stripping? I couldn’t even imagine where to begin with something like that.
“Um, what do I do?” I asked.
Tank laughed again.
“You take off your clothes,” he said. “I got a little taste back at the auction. But now I want to see what I paid for.”
My face turned a deep red, and Tank chuckled once again.
“Trust me, you’ll get used to it. This isn’t even the tip of the iceberg for what I’ve got in mind for you.”
I wanted to freeze in place again, like a little rabbit under the gaze of a sharp-toothed predator. But these feelings of fear faded slightly, and I began to psych myself up.
“Just do what you did before,” he said. “Use your hips.”
He then turned the music up louder, and I realized that this was going to be the only hint I was going to get from him. I listened to the music for a few seconds, picking up on the beat. And I felt ready. I began to sway my hips from side to side, like I’d done when I walked over. I closed my eyes, letting the beat of the music dictate my motions. As the song went on, I felt the beat move into my body, taking it over. The singer screamed out nasty lyrics that were thinly-veiled references to sex, and rather than feel disgusted, I tried to let myself get into the mood of sleazy fun that the song advertised.
I turned, bending over and pointing my ass at Tank, allowing him a full view. Turning back towards him, I ran my hands down the slopes of my curves as I rocked my hips from side to side. Against my control, I felt a wicked little smirk form on my face. Tank’s eyes were locked on me, and God help me, I loved the attention.
Oh, right, I thought, I gotta actually strip!
I slipped my fingers underneath the straps of my dress, working them over my shoulders. Slowly, I pulled it down. Unfortunately, my grace and skill wasn’t quite where I’d have liked them to be, and I wobbled a bit as I brought down the dress over my breasts. I saw Tank smirk as he took a sip of his whiskey. Despite my enthusiasm being higher than it had been when I started, I still felt self-conscious and awkward, and I’m sure it showed in my performance. Still, I kept at it.
The top of the dress was now below my breasts, my bra exposed. I moved the dress down more and more, swaying my hips as I did. I had a hard time keeping up to the beat of the music, so I decided to just pull the dress of in a quick motion, nearly falling over when I brought it down to my feet. My shoes were caught on the dress as I kicked it off; I still wasn’t quite used to heels.
Regardless, Tank seemed to be enjoying my performance. I hoped so, since I was now in nothing but my underwear and heels. Well, and the collar. The song continued on, and I moved my hands up along my back to my bra, my fingers slowly working open the hooks. With a quick motion, I undid the bra and removed it, the air of the room cool against my now bare breasts. I moved my hands along my hips once again, bringing them up to my breasts and squeezing my cleavage together, a sly smile on my face as I did.
I guess now’s the time for the rest, I thought.
But just as I slid my fingers underneath the waistband of my panties, Tank held up a hand.
“Stop.”
I froze in place. Was I doing that badly? Was he bored with me already?
He turned the music down and rose from his seat.
Is he going to … sleep with me now? I thought.
I was feeling better about … all that, but I didn’t think I was ready for things moving that quickly. After all, I was a virgin.
He walked over to me slowly, his eyes moving up and down my body. Then, like before at the auction house, he grabbed onto my breasts, squeezing them firmly. But this time, he leaned in close, taking my nipple into his mouth. I shivered as he lashed my now-hard nipple with his tongue, the feeling coursing through my body like hot electricity. I took in a sharp breath as he moved from one nipple to the other, his hands kneading my breasts all the while. I felt a tight tension form … down below. Something like an insistent heat. An animalistic part of me was beginning to take over, urging me to surrender to him.
But instead, he moved his head away from my breasts and stepped back. He took one last look at me and finished his drink.
“That’s enough for tonight,” he said, setting his drink down on a nearby table. “I want to savor my newest possession.”
He started off towards the hallway, but stopped in his tracks when he realized that he’d left me standing there half naked.
“Take one of the extra bedrooms on the third floor. Up the stairs, third door on the right.”
And just like that, he was gone.
I stood there for a few minutes, the strangeness of the situation covering me like a heavy blanket. Once I realized that Tank was gone, I made my upstairs to the bedroom he’d told me to go to. It was a huge room, the bed a four-point, comfy-looking thing, the window looking out over the long stretch of the front yard. And right as I stepped over the threshold, the events of the day caught up with me and I found myself with barely the energy to stumble over to the bed before collapsing down on top of it and falling into a deep sleep.