tagNonConsent/ReluctanceAntique Store Maid

Antique Store Maid

byStoryTeller07©

Wife is accidentally purchased

*

Three floors of rooms were crammed with a bewildering array of objects, small and large, pieces of fine silver up to great lumps of furniture.

'Everything is for sale, just let me know if you see anything you like,' the owner said.

It was an everyday statement, said without much thought. Sebastian looked through an archway at a fine looking, dark haired beauty. Older than he preferred, but with the kind of voluptuous figure a builder couldn't be blamed for whistling at.

'How much for the dark-haired beauty,' he smiled, meaning to share a joke with the store owner.

The returned look told him he made a mistake. She wasn't a customer, or if she was, the guy knew her, or perhaps she was his sister, or a lover.

'That piece is expensive. The upkeep is high too,' Bob sighed.

He didn't get a chance to say more as she glided up to them.

'Don't put the customers off!' Bridget scolded her husband. 'The gentleman looks man enough to make up his own mind. Whatever it is you like the look of, a discount can be arranged,' she said, adding a wink.

The wink was made to get back at her husband, rather than for the customer's benefit.

Bob now looked as sheepish as Sebastian. They had been caught out making fun of Bridget, which was not a good move. The woman was independent of thought and a fierce believer in women's rights. She was not someone to upset. They looked at each other, sharing a male conspiracy, with knowing looks.

The dress she wore was out of their stock. A flouncy fifties white dress with deep blue trim. It showed off a deep cleavage, which she noticed attracted the young customer. Of course it did, she knew it would, and had argued with her husband about it that very morning. A male customer was hardly likely to buy the dress, but would be distracted enough to purchase something.

They needed the money. After six years hard work the business had picked up to the point it was well worth continuing, but the lease on premises was up. They needed a substantial amount to renew it, and wondered where the money would come from.

That morning he said the money wasn't coming from her cleavage, and another argument was sparked off. The business was working, but now the marriage wasn't.

'You look the kind of man that knows what he wants, and makes it happen,' she purred.

She touched his shoulder with fine long fingers, perfectly manicured.

'Maybe, if the price is right,' he grinned.

Bob winced, warning him to be careful. The expression was meant to convey that she's got a temper, and knew how to use it.

'Everything here is for sale. Whatever it is you have your eye on, I'm sure we can come to some agreement.' she said, with a mischievous smile upon her face.

Bridget had been reflexively swinging her hips from the moment she stood close to the customer. The dress swished and rustled with the enticing sound of petticoats.

He was tall, and well built like an athlete, though most of all, he was young and potent.

Sebastian liked to flirt, but didn't like being used to get back at a husband. The way she fidgeted, he expected her at any minute, to fall upon him. She put a finger between a pair of luscious pouting lips, and flickered long eyelashes at him, flirting outrageously, like a young woman trying it on. She was a woman who liked to get her own way, and he was willing to let her.

Bob knew what she was doing, but couldn't raise the conversation to stop it. No witty repartee came to mind, so he kept quiet. It was safer that way. A lack of energy for anything much these days, kept him quietly watching them from the sidelines.

Sebastian looked down her cleavage, wondering what the rest of her looked like. He had only seen the top half through the archway and missed her walking up to them. He now saw she had a slim waist, and he wondered what her legs were like. Her hair was jet black, held up from the neck in loose curls. It looked architecturally intricate, and he wondered how it had been managed.

An awkward silence ensued with a smile softening her full red lips. She waited for him to say, or her husband to hint, at what interested the customer. She couldn't stop until she found out what they had been discussing, and made a sale. If nothing else, it would show her husband she was right about the dress.

'Everything here is for sale. I'll make you a good deal, and give you a decent discount. Whatever you want, it's yours,' she teased.

They both stared at each other, looking directly into each other's eyes. There was a strange transmission between them, a rapport, an attraction, that held their gaze.

'You were putting him off something. What was it the gentleman was interested in?' Bridget asked her husband, without looking away from Sebastian.

There was a thinly disguised sound of disdain in her voice, aimed at Bob. He hesitated, looking at the customer for help. The guy shrugged. Bridget said he was big enough to make his own decisions, so why not.

'He asked how much for you, sweet,' Bob sweetly smiled. 'You said yourself, everything here is available, at a price,' he added, trying to sound amused.

If she was going to berate him, then let it be worthwhile. Both men looked at her. Bob was waiting for her mood to turn from flirting, to irritation at the impudence of such a remark. Sebastian flushed pink revealing it was true.

Before she could rally, Sebastian decided to defend himself.

'I don't know much about art, but I know what I like,' he smiled. 'Even the most beautiful work of art is available for sale, at the right price, and I don't think I've seen anything so attractive for a long time, perhaps ever,' he said.

He hoped that got him off the hook, and stirred up her husband enough to join in.

'So what did you like, what attracted you to the merchandise?' she challenged.

Her mood was on the sharp edge of anger, from realising they'd been discussing her in such a dismissive manner.

'The design of an object is important. I admire a slim waist with organic curves of the Art Nouveau style. Texture is important too. A soft porcelain skin, with a light tan, for a fit and healthy natural look. Tastefully decorated rosebud lips, a body in white with a light touch of blue, without gaudy gilding. A priceless object of desire, I'd say,' Sebastian commented.

The gauntlet had been laid down firmly, with an innocent smile.

'So, what price did you put on this object of desire?' she asked her husband, with a voice full of disdain.

He could see the young man had wriggled out from under the threat of retribution, leaving him to carry the can. The two of them had been flirting, yet he was the one in trouble. Life of a husband is always so unfair.

'No such thing as priceless,' Bob said.

He thought about it, then mentioned the figure they needed for the new lease.

Bridget was taken aback, preventing her from castigating a husband usually found wanting. He was in trouble whatever he said, though surprisingly she stood there thinking it over. She couldn't decide if he was being clever, or nice, or maybe for once, both.

'A very good price, very fair I'd say,' Sebastian told him, playing along. 'I need something to decorate the new house, in Broadway. I'm sure I will be happy with such a gorgeous item,' he warmly smiled at her.

He winked at Bob, without her noticing, as she looked from one to the other with an expression of bemusement.

'If you're happy with the price, then it's a sale. Returns must be within ten days, and in the same condition as bought. Though a full refund wouldn't be due on such a valuable object,' Bob said.

He looked at his wife expecting her to either join in the fun, or storm off in a huff.

They were audaciously negotiating her sale, right in front of her, as though she were nothing but an object. She had been angry, but that seemed to have evaporated. His teasing description of her, and something intangible between them, kept her quiet.

The thought of this handsome man owning her, sent a shiver down her spine. She dare not say anything, in case it revealed her state of confusion.

The young man was playing at buying her, with her husband giving guidance as to her secrets, and the limits of this purchase. Her boring husband was rising to the challenge, and she enjoyed the attention. It was the only excitement to be expected on a dreary Wednesday afternoon.

'A nice firm top, with long shapely legs. Very attractive in high heels. Wears decoration discreetly and well enough to be described as elegant,' her husband said.

Elegant? That was a surprise, and she liked it.

'What about age and idiosyncrasies?' Sebastian asked.

'I'd say around thirty something, but looks late twenties when given good finishing touches. Everything is in working order. All natural without false additions. No restoration,' Bob said.

'Yes, it looks in superb condition, and certainly much less than thirty,' Sebastian agreed.

They were pointing out her features, no, they were commenting on her figure, and getting personal. They were going too far, yet she was enjoying it. The comments were all positive, and showed her husband had taken notice of her after all.

'There's no manual to go with it, but I'm sure you can find out how it works,' he said.

Bridget wasn't sure how to play this, and failed to break into the conversation. Men as usual could easily discuss an object at length, as long as emotions weren't involved. The dispassionate way they discussed her, shouldn't have been allowed, and shouldn't have been enthralling, yet it was.

She folded her arms across her generous chest, but refrained from tapping a foot to show annoyance.

'Do you take credit cards?' Sebastian asked.

'Certainly sir,' Bob answered, playing the game.

Both Bob and Bridget were surprised to see a diamond card produced, and watched in fascination as the card was accepted. Such a large sum wouldn't have gone through on an ordinary card, yet the transaction went through without hesitation.

Bridget assumed her husband had dropped off a couple of zero's. Bob's expression when the right squeaks and buzzes sounded, changed to astonishment. This alerted Bridget to what had happened.

The large sum had been accepted! This meant Bob had sold his wife! He'd accepted the offer, received the payment, and sold his wife to a stranger. Bob looked at his wife with raised eyebrows, querying what to do next. She looked away, deep in thought.

Damn him! What did he think he was playing at? A game was a game, but this was going too far. She was furious with him. Some of the things he said were too close to the truth. If he had mentioned their bedroom games, she would have hit him, but he'd merely hinted at them.

'I'll just prepare the item for you, sir,' Bob weakly said.

He pulled his wife into the small office, and shut the door behind him.

While she railed against him, he phoned the card company.

'Shush!' he told his wife, 'I've just put through a transaction and wanted to check it had cleared,' Bob stated, after the woman checked his identification.

Bridget became silent, now understanding what he was up to. Of course, the whole thing was a joke. It had to be!

'Are you sure? Well, I need to reverse it. Yes, credit the amount back from the business account,' Bob insisted.

'Insufficient funds? Why is that,? But, err, well, I see. Thank you,' he quietly replied, and gently put the phone back on its rest.

Bridget put together the conversation, though she didn't want to accept it.

'We can't pay him back? Where did the money go?' she said, trying not to shout.

'The lease. I arranged a short term loan on the business account. His payment, less the loan with interest and fees, left nothing in our account. It's secured the lease, and we can trade for the next twenty years. We've got enough in our private account to live for the next month,' he said, with the sound of desperation creeping into his voice.

Bridget couldn't believe it. The man was a fool, an absolute idiot!

'What are you going to do? He's waiting out there to, to, to take me away with him,' she stammered.

'I'll arrange another loan to pay him back. A couple of days that's all,' he said, trying to be reassuring, and failing.

He escaped from the office before his wife hit him. She followed him out. One look at the young man had her turning a deep shade of red, from a deeply felt embarrassment.

'Would you like your purchase wrapped?' Bob asked.

It was a perfectly innocent question, though his voice was tremulous with nerves. The joke had gotten out of hand, and he stood wondering how to get out of the desperate situation. Of course, Bridget wasn't going to accept this, so he waited for her to make a stand.

Bridget couldn't believe he was going through with the stupid jest. Of course it was awkward not being able to pay the man back, but surely he didn't expect them to go through with such an outrageous game?

'It's so wonderful, I don't know how I lived without it,' Sebastian firmly stated. 'Wrapped as it is, will be just perfect,' he said.

Why wasn't her husband explaining what happened, and why they couldn't pay him back? She was so hurt, she couldn't speak. She grabbed the customers arm and marched him outside. Standing in the sunshine outside the store, she fumed in silence. Everything looked normal yet unreal.

'Get in,' he said.

She looked at the fire red Ferrari, considering it useless for shopping, or for carrying furniture. It was quite useless, and was obviously a boy's toy. Before she knew it, she was sitting in the form fitting leather seat, with knees up, fidgeting with the dress. The dress wasn't designed for a modern sports car.

She took a good look at him. He was handsome, and unless this was a stolen car, he was wealthy too.

The card confirmed he had money, and this boy's plaything proved it. He must have paid much more for it than for her. Damn it! He'd bought her as just another plaything. She was just a boy's toy, she was his toy! No! That was silly, it couldn't be done. Buying a person wasn't possible.

Footballers were bought and sold, so why not her? She would be expected to play a more intimate game than football. Would she too be sold to a higher league, then with age, she would be sold down the league, until sold off into retirement.

What did he do to be able to afford to casually hand over so much money, on a whim. It didn't matter what he expected for his money, he wasn't getting it. He wasn't getting anything from her at all. She wasn't prepared to be added to his list of playthings.

'Three times around the block then back home?' he asked.

His smile revealed he was enjoying the joke, and so she smiled back. Hers was less confident.

'Make him wonder, and appreciate you more,' he shouted over the sound of a powerful engine. The throbbing of the engine felt through the seat, was doing something to her. Something nice, though not a wise thing at the moment.

'It'll take more than a five minute spin around the block,' she pouted.

'Do you do the buying there?' he asked.

'Some, most really,' Bridget replied.

'Take a look at my place, I could do with some advice,' he said.

They pulled off the main street onto a gravel driveway, to crunch up to a large red brick Georgian house. He opened the door, and found she was reluctant to get out.

'You can't walk back in those heels, you might as well come in,' he suggested.

Helping her struggle out of the low slung car, he touched her for the first time. A tingle of static made her gasp.

She hesitated on the front steps, shrugged, and followed him in. He was wealthy for sure. She looked around, noting it lacked the feminine touch, and really could do with a makeover.

'Coffee?' he asked.

Not giving her time to answer, he left her to follow him to the kitchen. It looked unused.

'I'm sure you can find your way around, I'll be in the study,' he smiled, and walked out.

'Cheeky bastard,' she quietly said.

She looked around at the modern kitchen, enviously taking in the genuine marble tops and expensive fittings. She opened a draw, marvelling at the smooth runners and how utensils were laid out neatly. Obviously never used. It looked as though coffee was about the only thing prepared here. A coffee machine and cups were in one corner, ready for use.

She chuckled, shrugged her shoulders, and made the coffee. Sweeping into the library, after a couple of false turns, she stopped in the doorway. He was sitting behind a large oak desk concentrating on a pile of papers. He was young and handsome. Sitting in a leather chair behind a large walnut desk, he looked powerful and important.

An unexpected thrill of excitement left her feeling giddy.

'Your coffee, sir,' Bridget found herself saying, and curtsied when he looked up.

The intended playfulness evaporated. A shadow of a deeper feeling, something she didn't care to think about, lay heavily upon her.

'Bring it here,' he said.

This time the playful tone was replaced by a deep and rich commanding timber.

The smell of leather, a stag's head over a large open fireplace, combined with his powerful presence, subjected her to a heavy male mood. He was younger, twenty-four to her thirty-eight, but she felt at a disadvantage. The headmaster's office at school was nothing like this, but somehow the same feeling of fear and awe overcame her.

'Set the tray down here and serve the coffee. You may pour yourself one,' he said.

'Thank you, sir,' she automatically said.

She hadn't meant to say it. The words just popped out. They didn't feel out of place either, in this masculine dominated room. The pathetic sound of her voice matched the feeling of submission that overtook her.

'So, what am I going to do with you?' Sebastian asked.

Her coffee cup was held in both hands, as they shook with nerves. She didn't have to think why she was so nervous. This was a stranger's house, and he could be a murderer, an Australian, or anything.

'I think you're a bargain. You're stunningly beautiful,' he said.

His smile was reassuring, but he seemed serious, which was creepy and frightening.

'You, err, can't buy a person, can you? I know you've, err, paid for me, but, err, does that mean you, like, own me?' Bridget quietly spoke.

Her voice revealed how subservient she had become. It was a revelation to her, as she had never been one to bow down to anyone. She was self-willed and argumentative, not obedient and deferential. He was doing this to her, and on some level she wanted it. She must do, or she wouldn't be giving in to him.

'You're right of course. Pity though, as it makes life so much easier, so much more straight forward. Mind you, I'd miss the fun of flirting and playing games,' he said.

He looked her up and down, as she still stood by the desk after placing the tray.

'I mean it, you are gorgeous, and well worth the price,' he laughed. 'You had better sit down, what do you think of the coffee, it's a special blend,' he asked.

His tone of voice changed back to being playful and teasing.

'Nice,' she answered, then realised she hadn't touched it. She sipped it, 'Nice, but too strong for me,' she replied. 'What about the money?'

'You could stay here and earn it,' he said.

He looked at her earnestly, eye to eye.

'I don't think so. You had better take the money back, and take me home,' Bridget said.

'Sure, of course, life is never that simple. If you change your mind though, I'm here. I need someone to breathe life into the old house. You have a sense of style,' he said.

She looked around again. The other rooms seemed empty, which left it just a house rather than a home. He was wealthy, but lived in an empty house, with an empty life. Why else would he buy a woman, even if it had just been a bit of fun?

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