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Carmen heard, around the blindfold, the garage door close behind them and shivered in anticipation. The car door opened and she turned to get out. Strong arms pulled her from the back seat and lifted her up. For a moment she was afraid he would carry her across his chest, like a bride over the threshold but instead he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her hanging head down into the house. That was right.
It had been a very successful auction. As she’d danced, stripping, between the tables the bidding went on and on, the bids getting higher and higher. Now someone ‘owned’ her and would claim her virginity. Everything had gone just as she’d dreamed.
Six months before, Poppy Trevethlyn had handed the Jeep keys to the valet of the Hotel Gentian and stepping into the elevator used a very special key to send it to the sixth floor. When she emerged into the tastefully reserved luxury of the family-owned bordello she saw her mother Camellia and grandmother Azalea sitting in front of laptops with bone china tea cups at hand.
“Ah, Poppy darling!” Azalea exclaimed happily, “I was about to call you over. Something has come up.”
“Nothing bad, I hope,” Poppy replied removing her wedding set from her finger and carefully locking it in the safe behind her thrice great-grandmother’s nude boudoir portrait that graced the lobby. It was just normal business practice and had been for over a hundred years at Asphodel’s. Of course, there was the odd client who got really excited about ‘renting’ a married woman but that was an extra charge and required advance reservations.
Her mother chuckled. “No, not bad, just a little—odd would be the best word possibly. I believe it may have started with your friend Mary Jane.”
“MJ? What’s up with her? I thought she was settling into the ‘hobby whore’ mode rather well. She doesn’t even gossip about the clients and when she’s in Papa Andrew’s law office she’s the very model of industrious discretion.”
Azalea smiled benignly. “MJ is turning into quite a valued member of the staff, dear, even to the point of having the beginnings of a repeat clientele but I’ve been wondering if I need to have a little talk to her about the value of discretion. Of course, I don’t know that she spoke out of turn but this letter,” she lifted a piece of very upmarket stationary, “makes me wonder if someone has. And MJ is, of course, the newest courtesan in the ‘stable’, so logical deduction would suggest she may have.”
Poppy sat down at the table and smiled at Clarence the muscular, bisexual barman as he poured a cup for her and silently retreated. “A letter?”
“Mm-hmm,” Azalea gracefully lifted her reading glasses and placed them on the bridge of her exquisitely chiseled nose. “Without going into the details the writer is asking for training in the sexual arts so that she can auction off her virginity to the highest possible bidder. Now that has only happened once around here and even then the ‘auction’ was restricted to one bidder.”
“Yup,” Poppy grinned mischievously, “my father-in-law, Papa Andy. He broke me in good, just like Mama, here, did his son Stevie. We must have been the best-trained newlyweds in the state. And you’re right, I did tell MJ I was ‘auctioned off’ but since that was a private arrangement I don’t think it’s what the writer has in mind. Does she say?”
“No,” Azalea lowered the glasses and left them hanging from the gold chain around her neck, “she does not. What she seems to be doing is making a case for a business arrangement. We train her; she pays us and then puts herself up for auction. It seems rather cold, actually.”
Camellia looked skeptical. “Before we take this seriously, I believe we really need to know more. I would say an interview is in order. I don’t have creepy feelings about it yet but I can certainly imagine developing them quickly. I repeat—we need to know more.”
Azalea nodded sagely in agreement. “And I believe I know just who to hold the interview.”
A lithe brunette with a puzzled look in her flashing black eyes compared the address on the letter in her hand with the list of offices on the marquee of the lobby. There was no question. The street address and suite number matched perfectly but why she was being referred to ‘Feinberg, Goldman and Ohuru, Family Counselors’ passed understanding. However, the return address on the envelope clearly stated ‘Asphodel’s, Hotel Gentian, Sixth Floor’ so this must be the right place. With a shrug she took the elevator to the top and walked down paneled halls to the door with the proper brass plate.
The silver-haired receptionist smiled at her pleasantly with questioning eyebrows.
“Carmen Torremolinos to see Dr. Feinberg at 10:00,” the brunette stated, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice.
“Ah, yes. And right on time, too. Go back out into the hall. Her office is right across from this one.”
Following directions, Carmen opened the door somewhat tentatively and stuck her head in to whatsapp escort see an attractive, fit and greying woman smile up at her. “Vell, good morning, Ms. Torremolinos,” she said in a rich Austrian accent. “Do zit down here, please. would you like coffee?”
“Yes, thank-you, black.”
Once both women were settled comfortably in their chairs Dr. Feinberg winked at Carmen. “Ms. Torremolinos, you are no doubt wondering why you have been sent here to discuss your letter to Asphodel’s. Zer are a couple of good reasons but ze most important one is that here you fall under doctor/patient confidentiality. What you tell me about zis interesting proposal of yours is completely confidential und will go no farther zen zese walls. Ms. O’Malley, ze owner, is intrigued by ze idea but wants clarification as to your intentions and goals. Zo—what makes you interested in being auctioned off?”
Carmen blushed. “I know it sounds strange, even completely bizarre but—well psychiatrists always want to know the background so let me just say that while most little girls around here are raised on soccer, softball, Barbie dolls and Disney princesses, I was raised on yoga, symphonies and art museums. My mother is really big on them and was always taking me around to see the latest exhibition of great art. Her main interest was Impressionism and the Fauves but I always loved the Orientalists. I could sit and look at the odalisques and the bathers for the longest time. They were so pretty and they looked like they were enjoying themselves. Mother used to show me the pictures of the slave girls being sold to swarthy, lustful looking Arabs or Romans and lecture me on the evils of patriarchy but I use to get all shivery and excited at the thought of the girl being sold and then taken home and ravished. I never daydreamed about a big church wedding with me all in white, just about being sold to some masterful stud.”
“Ah! Zo instead of wedding fantasies you had slave auction fantasies, no?”
Carmen giggled. “Really, I did. I still do. Mom took me with her to ‘Mommy and Me’ yoga classes from before I can remember so I’m fit and really flexible. I guess it was around when I was twelve that I started thinking about what I could do being that flexible. Then when I turned fifteen my Mexican grandmother told me that for my quinceañera I could have anything I wanted so I asked for belly dance lessons. Mom wasn’t happy but grandma said it was my day, her money and my choice. The yoga gave me quite a leg up and in the last three years I’ve gotten pretty good though by classical standards I’m a little slim. But I figure I can put on a real display.”
Dr. Feinberg nodded in understanding. “Ah zen, you are looking for a public auction, more or less? With lots of men bidding for you? Und have you thought through any details beyond zat? How long are you planning to belong to your buyer? Will it be just for ze weekend, just for ze night or . . .?”
Carmen sucked her lips in and looked troubled. “That’s what I don’t know! I never manage to get past getting into bed with him and giving him the best sex he’s ever had. After that—I—I just don’t know!”
Dr. Feinberg raised a silver eyebrow and shook her forefinger at Carmen in admonishment. “Well, zen it is a good thing you looked to a professional courtesan service. I am sure Ms. O’Malley will be willing to train you but only on ze grounds zat you follow her advice. Asphodel’s has over a hundred years of experience in satisfying ze desires of men and in dealing with zem. Do what she says and I suspect zat you will get a happy ending to your fantasy, Ms. Torremolinos. But please stick with her. What you propose could be very dangerous if you tried it on your own.”
“I know. That’s why I wrote to Asphodel’s. I don’t really know much about the place. Hardly anyone I know does but the rumors and the stories fly around so I thought that if anyone could help me with this fantasy slave auction it would be them.”
Dr. Feinberg patted the girl’s hand. “Strangely enough, you were absolutely correct. Zo we have established zat you are going into zis with your eyes wide open and your head screwed on straight. I think it will be fun. If I were younger I might give it a try myself!”
Axel Trevethlyn stood over the sink shaving while his wife went over the day’s events and revelations. When she got to the report from Marta Feinberg he stopped in mid stroke and flicked the foam into the sink. “Really? She actually wants to be publicly auctioned off? As a virgin?”
“She does,” Camellia replied, “and listening to her whole story I actually think it’s kind of sweet. Every woman has her rape fantasies; that’s why we love those silly Restoration Romances. Carmen has just upped the ante a little, thrown in Exoticism from the East if you will.”
Axel put the razor down and stood up with a thoughtful look on his craggy features. He tilted his head one way and then the other, pursed his lips and then grinned. istanbul escort bayan “A fundraiser. By the time she’s got all the skills down it will be just about time for the Foundation’s Holiday Fundraiser. Instead of a ball we’ll throw an auction. We’ll get some of the younger girls to be the ‘merchandise’, have everyone come in costume—heck, we could even invite the clientele to bring their wives if they want to come along.”
“And provide escorts for the divorced and widowed gentlemen! Axel, my love, you are a genius. Oh this will be such fun. Finish shaving, honey, I’m going to get the harness and the KY jelly. You’ve earned yourself a Class A screwing tonight. Just wait until I tell Mother!”
When Axel came out of the bathroom his wife was as good as her word. A large flesh-colored Feeldoe jutted upward from her crotch, its surface glistening with lubricant.
“Face down on the bed, baby,” Camellia said through her leer, “since you don’t have to be at the Foundation office until ten at the earliest I think I’ll just see how long I can keep you moaning. Why, I may have to switch to an even bigger one. I had to have it custom made and I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. I was going to fuck you with it on our anniversary but I may just decide not to wait. Come on, luscious toy-man. Mama wants to play!”
Grinning happily at the prospect of an evening in the receptive mode, Axel lay down on the bedspread, spread his legs slightly and arched his back. Camellia laughed and smacked him soundly on the buttocks, paused and then began beating out a rhythm until her husband’s backside glowed bright pink. She thought about just jumping on and banging him but instead leaned down, spread his butt cheeks and languidly ran her tongue between them.
Axel moaned. A very skilled courtesan, as befitted the Asphodel’s vice-president, Camellia had a long list of skills she knew made men happy—so many that sometimes she would forget how long it had been since she last used one on a particular client. And, to his regret, this included her husband. It had been an age since he’d been treated to a proper rimming and he began to melt into the covers with the raw pleasure of it all.
Once she had him whimpering eagerly, Camellia decided it was time to give Axel the treatment. She straddled his thighs, leaned forward to push the dildo up his butt and then rested her weight on her elbows. Happily, this was the exact height that allowed her nipples to brush his back, an added sensation to the impertinent silicone stroking his prostate as his wife started thrusting with her hips.
“Mmmm, I love it when you moan like that, baby. It makes me feel really in charge and really powerful knowing that I’m send you to the moon, lover. Shall I reach around and stroke you? No, I don’t think I will. I’m just going to keep fucking your butt until you can’t help cumming, Axel, baby. I may not even stop then!”
As she had promised, it was a long night.
Her ‘buyer’ was evidently quite a robust gentleman, Carmen decided, as he easily carried her into the house and up a flight of stairs. When at last he put her down, she immediately dropped to her knees, leaned forward and opened her mouth wide. Would he remove the blindfold first or just demand fellatio at once? Dampness spread between her thighs as she heard him begin to undress. She shivered. Soon he would be naked and she was still wearing the caftan that had been put around her after the auction ended. She hoped he would deflower her soon, not enjoy her mouth and then make her wait until morning. But he was the Master and she would do whatever he wished. The rustling and clinking stopped. She could smell male skin in front of her and made a happy little noise as he stroked her cheeks with the head of his rapidly engorging cock. Then he stuck it in her mouth and grabbed two handfuls of her hair. She swallowed eagerly.
Carmen’s training had proceeded with remarkable speed. The muscle control and tone that both the yoga and dancing had given her allowed her to master many of the more subtle techniques in record time. Azalea was quite pleased with things and said so to her husband one evening on the back deck as they watched the sun set over the mountains. “It will really be the best fund-raiser ever,” she said smugly, “and the most fun as well. I can hardly wait to see how fierce the bidding gets when our little Carmen swivels out on the floor for the grand finale.”
Henry snorted. “Fierce it may get but there has to be only one possible conclusion. And if necessary I’ll back it up past more money than anyone believes.”
Azalea put her wine glass down. “Henry, are you talking a fix? What in the world would make you do a thing like that?”
Mr. O’Malley glared at his wife over the tops of his gold-rimmed glasses. “Two words, my dear,” he growled, “Richard Morganburg.”
“Oh. Oh, dear. Henry, you have a very good point. Richard Morganburg, indeed. That özbek escort poor man! Has his divorce come through, yet?”
Henry snorted. “He couldn’t even bring himself to call his wife and talk to her about it, just had his attorney send her the papers. And what did she do? She sent them back so fast she must have signed them as soon as she opened the envelope and dropped them in the mailbox that same day! Like she couldn’t wait to get rid of him and back to her ‘very important’ work.”
“But weren’t they talking about starting a family?”
“No, he was. Then she got offered that staff job on Capitol Hill and away she went. Seems she thinks what she does there is so important she has to be in the office fourteen or fifteen hours a day, seven days a week. Poor Richard went to see her a month or so after she got the job and she wouldn’t even take off work to see him for more than a lunch hour. So what choice did he have? He became a client because she told him that if he got ‘lonely’ he should just go to Asphodel’s and stop whining to her. It’s terrible what politics can do to a person. Anyway, if little Carmen really wants someone who craves her, Richard absolutely needs someone to crave. A fix? You bet!”
Azalea sipped her wine reflectively for a long while and then nodded.
Carmen happily ran her manacled hands up and down her new owner’s shaft sending wonderful sensations through his brain with her mouth and tongue. But at last he released her hair and took her hands to pull her to her feet. Then untying her blindfold he lifted her into the air and tossed her gently onto the king sized four-poster. She looked up into his face and saw a distinguished-looking gentleman with a greying mustache gazing down at her, lustful possessiveness in his eyes. Running her tongue around her lips seductively, the girl spread her knees and reached up to him in invitation.
“Take me, Master,” she said softly, “Let me be worth my price to you. Let me give you pleasure. Make a woman of me.”
As he crawled up between her thighs she reached up one hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down while the other took his erect manhood and put it at the portal of her virginal sex. She gasped at the penetration. “Oh, yesss . . .”
Carmen had been ‘in training’ for a month or two when one Saturday morning Axel and Camellia, having sent their younger children off to play soccer, were enjoying late coffees at the breakfast table. Camellia was chattering away happily describing the ‘pupil’s’ progress.
“She’s just the most toothsome little morsel, honey. I’m constantly amazed at the difference Marta’s hypnosis can make in a woman’s figure. Carmen’s boobs have twice the mass they did when she first got here and her hips are so perfectly round and full—it’s doing wonderful things to her dancing. She’s going to bring a serious price at the auction. Speaking of which, how are the arrangements for the fundraiser coming?”
Axel started to laugh through his cup spewing and spilling coffee all over the table, down his pajama front and all over Camellia’s lacy robe. Apologizing profusely he cleaned up the mess, got his wife a new peignoir and pulled on some Levi’s and a polo shirt. Pouring more coffee he sat down again and began to chuckle.
“I’m not sure how to put this but—have you noticed any odd changes in the zeitgeist? I mean, is being sold to a loving master the latest thing in the teen-to-twenties world? Like instead of vampires?”
Camellia’s eyes widened with astonishment. “Not that I’ve heard. Whatever are you talking about?”
Her husband took a long drag on his java, swallowed it and trying hard to keep a straight face began his tale. “I went up to the sixth floor to spend some hot time with Jane and when we were done I told her about the idea. She thought it was riotous and I guess she must have told Andrew. Now you know how he’d react; he’s probably started an account to build up some serious bidding money but it seems that he also told his office manager, Mavis. When I got to the Foundation and started work, the phone rang. It was Mavis and she absolutely insisted, in no uncertain terms, that she be one of the auction lots.”
“Mavis? Mavis Beacon? Mother has been trying for years to talk her into spending a few hours a week here playing hobby whore and she’s always politely refused. Now you’re telling me that she wants to be auctioned off for the Fundraiser? I can hardly believe it.”
“Believe. And it gets worse.” Axel continued, “I brought the subject up at the girls’ staff meeting the next day, suggesting that they play prizes and donate the proceeds to the foundation as a tax write-off. There was some modest interest but no commitment. However, the next day the phone began to ring off the hook. Including Carmen and her grand finale, we have a dozen girls who want to be ‘sold’ for the weekend and get this: every last one of them is an amateur!”
“Amateur—Amateurs? Not part-timers like me, Jane and Poppy?”
“Amateurs! They’re all singles who probably have plenty of experience but not a one of them has ever taken a dime for sex before. And they’re all just quivering with eagerness to be sold to some guy or some couple, taken home for a weekend and used repeatedly. I don’t understand it, I just don’t.”
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