A Gentleman's Bargain

"Tonight will be a long night, I think the first Lot opens at four hundred dollars or something equally pathetic. There are a handful of regulars on both sides of the gallery, and they are all high-dollar players. I think there are only five Lots starting higher than yours tonight. How exciting!"

"OK, you look great. Since you clearly have no questions, let's go on in."

His slut felt brazen, sure, but clearly she had questions. She assumed she'd be getting answers rapidly, and soon. Raquel opened the door, and the noise of a cocktail party washed over her as she entered. She felt a row of (bar stools?) brushing her left hip as she walked. Soon Raquel stopped her, turned her to her right, and put a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to sit. Yes, another velvet bar stool. This called for a new pose, canted opposite the side she'd favored the previous hour.

As she settled, there was a spattering of applause mixed with thick muttering. Was she the latest convert into some cult? Was this her graduation class just before the cool-aid? Was she on some weird reality tv show? Six left in disgrace. Was she wet enough that people around her could see it?

5. A Gentleman's Bargain

His slut listened to the sound of other women gathering and murmuring behind her, and was convinced that there were at least three rows of bar stools, hers being in the front. She was sure she had brushed past at least six or eight stools, possibly more. Familiar sounds of bits of instruction bled into her head from three sides, lacking only the glowing excitement of being any type of "favorite" as Raquel had been so happy to share. His slut was sure she was on a stage with maybe twenty voices, had heard maybe forty pairs of heels click into the room. Although nobody had come out and admitted anything of the sort, all the pieces had come together. Exactly how far this would go was still mystery enough, but she couldn't think of anything else that fit better than... ÔDrip' she felt a single drop of her wetness succumb to gravity, and escape her innermost thigh.

Suddenly the ambient light creeping in around the edges of her blindfold faded entirely away, and as it did, the murmuring from dozens of other women's escorts hushed. His slut could feel Raquel adjust herself. "OK, here we go. Get ready, hold still, and be ravishing. You're perfect. Smile," Raquel whispered through obviously smiling sounding teeth. The throbbing dance music faded to a background buzz, and applause roared.

"Gentlemen, welcome! Yes - thank you very much!" Matthew's familiar voice sang over a new, higher quality audio system. "Please, have a seat."

"In a moment, we will begin our evening's primary event. Before we do, I'd like to personally thank you all for coming, and insist that you have been a most admirable audience. We have many gorgeous Lots tonight, and many quite flattering minimum bids. We hope that you will enjoy an exhilarating contest, and we ask that you all return very soon and join us again."

"And now I'd like to introduce our many breath taking Lots. Gentlemen... behold!"

The pulsating music roared back up, very loud, and played right into the moment. Suddenly she felt a draft, and sensed the ambient light creep back in. The booming applause filled back in, between the bouncing of the bass line in the music. Wild cheers and whistling popped staccato, between the symbol crashes and high hats tapping.

The ovation carried on for some time, without showing signs of waning, before Matthew continued, fairly well shouting over the raucous, "Ladies and escorts!? Blindfolds in three... two..."

"Are you ready!? Right hand! Smile!" Raquel hissed.

"...one... ZERO!"

Again, as if she were watching a home movie, she observed herself reach up obediently and peel off her blindfold. She had guessed correctly. Three rows of women - many of them beautiful, and their escorts. "We're all dressed alike," His slut mused.

The gallery was a gigantic round theater, with seats raising up into the darkness all around her. She and the other Lots sat in rows in a semi-circle together, just on the floor of the stage. One hallway made of stage curtains led backstage, which was also a makeshift semi-circular area simply cordoned off by more large curtains. Lining the room in a ring, were fifty or sixty windows, all adorned with ornate frames - their booths.

At her feet was a simple sign that bore the number "12" and just beyond that were a row of low stage lights. Beyond THEM were men. Dozens of men. Some older, but most Master's age, give or take. Detail was impossible in the low stage lighting, and try as she might, Her slut couldn't find Master in the sea of cheering testosterone. "Maybe exactly one for every one of us numbered Lots on stage?" she wondered. "They are all dressed alike as well," her thoughts continued. They were notably less than gentlemanly, no matter how well they dressed, but they didn't seem drunk or even as wild as the men His slut saw when Master took her to a strip club once, early in their careers as hedonists. She was seriously struggling to contain her excitement, and continuously had to remind herself to smile, yes, but not to grin like an idiot from ear to ear.

Two escorts were walking along the row, one carrying a stack of small signs, and the other placing one sign at a time next to the numbered signs already at each Lot's feet. "All the escorts match too," she marvelled, thinking back to Madeline, wishing she could see Master in the crowd. The escorts laid a sign next to His slut's "12" that read simply "$3,000". Raquel hissed, "AMAZING! The house has confidence in you! They've raised your starting bid a thousand goddamn dollars! Girl, you're going to be popular!"

Matthew proceeded to calm the crowd back to their seats. He introduced a stunningly beautiful blond as Ariana, and informed us that she would handle the bids. Matthew handed Ariana the microphone, and turned the night's events over to her. When she spoke, she had a thick German accent, which gave her immediate authority over the proceedings, much more so than Matthew's dramatic introduction ever could have. Instantly, she began her work.

"Good evenink, gentlemen. Thank you Matthew, zat is correct, my name is Ariana, and I will be your Mistress of Ceremonies tonight. We will start with Lot Number Four, Suzanna, would you bring Lot Number Four forward, pleese?" Immediately, an escort took the hand of the Lot numbered Four, and the two of them strutted from their bar stool position far to His slut's right, to center stage. His slut looked on the floor in front of the empty bar stool, and saw that Four's starting bid was $1,000. His slut looked back at Four and realized that she agreed with their appraisal - Four wasn't half as hot as His slut felt right then.

"Four is a beautiful Lot, which any man would find pleasurable. We will start the bidding at one sousand dollars," Ariana stated quite matter-of-factly. Five men wandered forward from their seats, and stood around the rounded stage in front of Four and her escort.

"OK, I think you're up!" Raquel hissed through her smile. It had been at least another two hours of posing on a bar stool, but she could have stayed for two more, she was sure, if only she hadn't been so sexually overloaded. She had watched for two hours while men rated - sometimes surprisingly - scantily clad women by bidding on their cash value.

She watched for two hours while men - occasionally Master included - came forward, asked the Lots' escorts questions, fondled the women, and sometimes stripped them. All of the Lots were groped, and all of them sat patiently, and encouraged the bidders with enthusiastic smiles. Some were penetrated with fingers. Many were pinched, some had their nipples exposed and tugged on, and almost all had their asses slapped repeatedly, until they were pink by the end.

She watched for two hours, one by one, bidders win Lots, and new Lots take center stage.

Master won a bid on Lot Twenty-Six, an attractive blond with tight, gymnast's thighs, and a wiggly backside that matched her wobbly bubble boobs. She seemed a nice blend of all the traits both Master and His slut appreciated in female playmates. He had bluffed his way directly to his five thousand dollar maximum, and ran off the other bidders by inspecting the woman's teeth and gums, peeling back her lips, and drawing a bit of surprise from her escort. He didn't touch her anywhere else, and he didn't ask her depraved questions - he freaked everyone out a little, everyone except His slut. He stopped freaking her out a long time ago. Instead, she found him endlessly - if often awkwardly - fascinating. His dirty side was a mile wide, and he never ceased to impress her with his originality.

"The four others that remain are all regulars. These Lots sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars sometimes, and if you look at them, you'll know why," Raquel finished as she fidgeted in her seat a bit. His slut looked around, and she agreed - these other four Lots were incredible; they were living works of art.

"Now gentlemen, ve have a real treat," Ariana began anew. As the Lots grew in price, Ariana's tone gained enthusiasm and her pace gained momentum. The men were also building a head of steam, and were clearly in a similar froth His slut found herself in. "Lot Number Tvelve is a newcomer to The Gentleman's Club. Vile she may seem too extraordinary, too alluring, I assure you, she is very real, and very innocent."

Raquel had His slut in motion before Ariana finished the word "Tvelve," and they arrived, smiling to center stage to an uproarious applause. The men did not wait to be invited any more formally than they were already - they flooded forward, almost all of them, barring a few that had spent what they brought already.

"Vould mister Tom Jacobs pleese stand?"

His slut saw Master rise to his feet, grinning slyly out of one half of his mouth, and raising his left hand to the crowd. He allowed it for only a moment, then sat back down, after blowing His slut a kiss, his wedding band glistening in the dramatic stage lights.

"Tom brings us the lovely Lot Tvelve, and has set a flattering, yet absolutely fair opening bid at sree sousand dollars."

At first there were many men, with many fast hands. She could only assume that they were mildly more polite with her than they had been with the earlier Lots, simply because she was introduced as such as special guest. Her House Favorite status kept the smaller bidders a little more tame. The many hands raced over her flesh. One of them ripped a small hole in her fishnets, at the sensitive part of her inner thigh. Another reached inside the top of her dress with both hands and squeezed her breasts solidly, twisting them inward slightly. The many men fell on her like wolves on raw meat, and the many hands drove her mad. She writhed around under their many fingers and thought many filthy things. She wanted them in both her hands, thick and hard, aroused for her, aroused at the thought of having her. She wanted them in her mouth. She wanted them in her wet slit. She wanted all of them, inside her, straining and throbbing to spray their seeds, right then. She wanted them deep in her guts, pounding away. She wanted them to grunt and to sweat, and to squirt their hot sticky slop all over her overcharged flesh.

"Four thousand," dared the first bidder, who was interrupted by another, "Five thousand!" One of them groped after His slut's wet crotch, but Raquel only allowed it for a moment before brushing his hand away, and gesturing toward His slut's chest. Immediately he dove in and grabbed them both, shaking them, alternating one up while the other down. This immediately had her heavy, round tits flopping out of her dress, exposing her near-black nipples, hard as small thumbs. He was a little rough with her tits, and His slut threw her head back briefly, and moaned, agonizing for release. She couldn't imagine how hard she was going to cum once she finally was allowed.

"Six thousand," barked another - cut off by "Ten thousand!" from a fourth. The bidding escalated to twenty thousand dollars within the first few minutes, after which some of the lower bidders returned to their seats, disappointed to be retired so quickly. Every man standing bid eventually, and all of the active bidders fondled and explored her with their hands.

As the bids increased in price, the pace mellowed, and the tension thickened. Soon the bidding had raised to thirty thousand dollars, and only three bidders remained. Raquel was ecstatic, and lost all her earlier professional composure, often giggling, and occasionally giving His slut little pecks on her cheek - which sparked bidding frenzies every time she did it. Her short skirt wound up hiked up over her hips, her thong roughly pulled aside. Her fishnets were tattered. The many men had been more intense than Raquel had suggested they'd be, but His slut wasn't put off at all. She was enjoying it immensely, far more than she'd imagined she would.

His slut had finally found Master in the audience, and was sharing a proud, broad smile with him. He clearly approved of her performance so far, and seemed to be enjoying the show, which at that point had simmered from a boiling, fleshy feeding frenzy to a steaming game of chicken between three high rollers, all intent on outbidding the others, all escalating well beyond groping at her tits with each bid.

"Mister Sullivan, zat's thirty sousand to you, sir." Ariana sold it like a champion.

"He's handsome," His slut thought. "If he wins me, he can have anything Master wishes, and gladly." His body was fairly average, but he was attractive, and now that she was fully aware that she'd be purchased by one of these three specific remaining men "for delivery tomorrow night," the excitement of it all made the prospect even more appealing.

"Thirty three thousand. May I?" he asked Raquel, gesturing palm-up from his side toward His slut's tingling crotch. Raquel looked as though she might fuck Mr Sullivan herself, right there on the floor. Her excitement not contained, Raquel shook her head eagerly up and down, smiled with all her teeth, and bounced a little in place, hands clasped at her breast.

His slut spread her legs eagerly. Mr Sullivan reached out the same hand and cupped it, up against her wet, swollen labia. He held her firmly from her clit in the heel of his hand, to her asshole at the tip of his middle finger, and squeezed her beautiful pussy, as if to juice it. His palm sealed against her wet, shaven mound, and His slut moaned, and ground her crotch into Mr Sullivan's palm, but only ever so subtly - after all, he was feeling her up, she wasn't fucking his hand. He shook her side to side using the suction of her wetness to rock her body back & forth, and made her tits jiggle. Once he had satisfied his curiosity, he withdrew his hand, smiling, and as he did, she noticed that his palm was slickly soaking wet.

As Mr Sullivan stepped back grinning, His slut writhed in heat a moment on a borrowed bar stool. Raquel put her hand on His slut's shoulder, and quietly warned, smiling, "Number Twelve, keep your composure. Don't just fucking give it away!" His slut gracefully downshifted, and slithered back to a proper standing position, and like a good slut, she turned her gaze toward the next bidder, just as Ariana chimed in.

"Zat is sirty sree sousand to you, Mister Metriov." No one dared notice the insane German tongue twister haiku.

Mr Metriov was a bit older, maybe fifty. He was probably balding, which would explain his extremely tight, military style buzz cut. He was just shorter than Master, by maybe an inch, but he was broad through the shoulders, and deep in the chest. He wasn't pretty, but he looked strong and virile.

He walked with long deliberate strides directly toward Raquel, and as he approached he drew gasps from audience and escorts alike, "Fourty thousand dollars." He leaned in close to Raquel's ear, and whispered something, then leaned back. Raquel fained a pout, and shook her head side to side, "No. You may not do that, nor try any variant of anal, nor excrete any semen above her neck. I'm sorry to deny you, but it's all in the program, Mister Metriov."

"Fine, fine, yes. I thought I would deserve an exception, but I understand," He conceded begrudgingly.

He turned to face His slut. He unzipped the front of his pants, and deftly unrolled his cock from the fly of his trousers. His slut cast her eyes down to it. He was big, like impressive big. Big, and half hard already, swinging out in front of everyone.

"What do you think of this cock, Number Twelve?" he asked her directly.

She looked innocently into his eyes, blinked once with all of her eyelashes flashing, and then turned demurely toward Raquel. "Freedom to answer frankly, Mistress Raquel?"

"Granted," Raquel permitted.

His slut turned back toward Mr Metriov and, demurely again, answered, "Frankly Mister Metriov - may I call you Mister Metriov?"

"No, slut. You will call me only Sir!" he barked back.

"Frankly Sir," she continued, "it's so huge, it will probably hurt me. I can't be completely sure though, because it's not entirely hard. May I?" His slut asked, gesturing toward his big and still growing meat.

"You may. Would it make you happy to know that I would enjoy your pain? That plundering you painfully would make me cum like a waterfall?"

His slut sat down on the edge of the stage, and slid off gracefully, eventually coming to rest directly in front of Mr Metriov. As she repositioned herself onto her knees in front of him, she purred, "As long as that's what my Master wants, then your cum is all I need to make me happy, painful or not. Sir."

She curled both of her hands around Mr Metriov's thick hog, and hefted it up toward her face. She parted her lips slightly, licked them, and touched them to the tip of Mr Metriov's thickening cock. She pecked a little kiss on it, letting her tongue touch the tip at the same time. She brushed it over her lips, and as she passed the head of it over her cheek, she closed her eyes and moaned.

His slut began tugging at the length of it, as she washed it over her face, across her lips again, then finally plunged it straight into her mouth, the head clogging her throat as she made wet, rhythmic noises around it, sometimes moaning, other times slurping.

She suck-started his cock in under a minute. It stood straight out, hard and proud. It was easily the biggest she'd ever seen. She let him fuck her throat for another twenty or thirty seconds without her hands, which were both busy groping at her own chest, squeezing her tits and plucking at her nipples. He took her head in both his hands, tangled his fingers in her curly hair, and used her hair as a pair of hand grips, and her mouth as a wet, willing pussy. The crowd was silent as everyone listened to the luscious, wet fucking noises she made, and the purring yummy noises she sang around his now hardened cock.

Once he was fully erect, she stood up again, and brushed herself off delicately. She hopped, gracefully bouncing her bottom up onto the stage, then stood back up next to Raquel. She spoke again only briefly, "Yes, that will certainly hurt if you fuck me properly with it, Sir. It's quite honestly the biggest cock I've ever had the pleasure to see in person. Thank you, Sir."

"Thank you for the sample, Number Twelve. You have a most talented tongue, you've had practice," he replied, and stepped back smiling. The audience roared, the music throbbed up, and Ariana nearly sang, smiling from ear to ear, "Amazing enthusiasm, and an amazing newcomer!"

The audience cheered on while His slut suddenly thought about what she had just done. It was amazing, but it was so absolutely dirty. Was she sure she was enjoying this - and only enjoying this? Master looked proud as he always did during the wilder nights out. She decided that the only thing she wanted to keep in check was her own intensity. She couldn't let herself get too far out of control. As for the events that had transpired so far, she decided that she hadn't done anything she'd regret, and was truly enjoying the liberating freedom of having almost no enforced boundaries.