The Auction (6 page)

Using mousse designed to tame curls, she sprayed some on her palm, rubbed her hands together and ran them through her hair. She hoped Adam didn’t mind wet hair, as a blow dryer always ended up turning her curls into a fright wig of frizz. She looked around for her makeup bag, but didn’t see it. She touched her cheeks, wondering if Adam had purposely held it back, deciding that he must have. At thirty-two, though her skin was clear and unwrinkled, she felt more attractive using the armor of blush, lipstick and mascara. But if her temporary Master didn’t want it, so be it.

With a last tug at her curls, Carly left the bathroom and entered the bedroom, where Adam waited in the sitting area. Wearing a yellow silk robe, he sat in a wingback chair beside a large window reading a newspaper. There was a steaming cup of coffee beside him, and the aroma made Carly’s mouth water. As she approached him, he folded the paper, setting it down on the small side table as he stood.

“Arms behind your head, legs shoulder-width apart,” he said. Carly assumed the position, used to daily inspections from her week of slave training. Adam moved close, running his index finger under her arm. It tickled and she tried hard to stay still, resisting the urge to squirm away. He did the same under her second arm, and then reached down, cupping her mons in his large hand. He ran his fingers lightly over her labia and then stepped back.

Reaching into his robe pocket, he extracted a small, slim flashlight and flicked it on. “Turn around, bend over and grab your ankles. Keep your legs spread wide.” Carly stared at the flashlight and swallowed. Though used to being naked in front of others, she didn’t like the idea of such an up-close and personal examination of her private parts.

Biting her lip, she turned and bent forward, reaching for her ankles. “Wider,” Adam said, smacking her inner thigh with the flashlight. Carly obeyed, feeling awkward and exposed. She felt the heat scalding her cheeks as Adam’s fingers again moved over her labia and slid up along the cleft, lightly rimming her asshole. His finger moved over the welt he’d left on her ass and then he smacked her other cheek.

“Good,” he said, stepping back. “You pass. Stand up and turn around.” As Carly did so, he said, “Are you hungry?”

Carly was starving, she realized, having been too nervous the day before to eat much of anything, and she would kill for a cup of coffee. “Yes, Sir,” she replied.

She expected Adam to lead her downstairs, but instead he appeared to be heading toward the bathroom. “I’m going to shower and shave first. You will wait on the bathmat so you can dry me when I get out. Then we’ll have some breakfast.”

Her stomach growling, Carly cast a wistful glance at the coffee mug he’d left beside his chair and followed him into the bathroom. While Adam showered, she waited dutifully on her knees on the thick bathmat in front of the sinks. When he came out of the shower, she leaned up with a towel, drying his legs, balls and penis while he used a second towel to dry his head and torso. The act had the curious effect of making her feel almost tender toward him, but she pushed these feelings away.

She knelt quietly at his feet while he shaved over his sink. She admired the strong curve of his calf muscles, which were covered with dark, curling hair. His thighs were powerful and his ass was firm. Why did this man have to
buy
a slave? He was gorgeous, wealthy and dominant. He could have had his pick of women with a snap of his fingers. He probably had to fend them off as it was, both vanilla women and those in the scene.

Maybe that was it. He didn’t want women hurling themselves at him. He didn’t want a love affair. He didn’t want an emotional connection. He just wanted a toy—someone to use and then discard when he grew bored. No strings, no complications.

Perfect for me too
, Carly staunchly told herself, refusing to give in to the niggling suspicion that she might be lying.
Just perfect.

~*~

Adam stood at the stove scrambling eggs while the bread was toasting. Carly had almost slipped up, nearly sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs after he’d told her he would get the breakfast. Catching herself in time, she’d knelt instead on the small exercise pad he’d placed on the floor by the table for her. Adam felt the way he did the first morning of a vacation, with all that glorious time stretching ahead of him, everything new and waiting to be explored.

Only this was better than a vacation. Everything he wanted to explore was right here in this kitchen, kneeling obediently behind him, waiting for whatever delightful tortures he could devise. Adam’s cock stirred at the thought. He’d pulled on a pair of khaki shorts after his shower, not bothering with underwear or a shirt. Though summer was nearing its end, it was already warm outside, climbing to eighty-four according to the thermometer affixed to the kitchen window, and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet.

He dumped the steaming eggs onto a plate, pulled the toast from the toaster and spread some butter over it. Refilling his cup, he carried it along with the plate to the table.

Though he rarely ate breakfast himself, he took several bites of egg and ate half a piece of toast before turning to Carly, who was watching his every move like a dog waiting to be tossed a scrap. Adding some cream, he took a sip of his coffee, appraising his slave girl over the rim. Her eyes, he realized, were the color of robin’s eggs, a rich, pure blue. She glanced submissively down in the face of his gaze.

“You have a choice,” he told her. “You can eat from the plate on the floor, mouth only, no utensils. Or I can feed you.”

Carly pursed her lips, not quite managing to hide the confused, annoyed expression that flitted over her features. Adam lifted another bite of egg to his mouth, following it with another long sip of coffee.

“Feed me, please, Sir,” she finally blurted, actually licking her lips.

Nodding, Adam held out a piece of toast, allowing her take a bite. He scooped up some egg on the fork and let her take it. He continued to feed her until the plate was empty. “Do you like coffee or would you prefer orange juice?”

“Coffee, please,” she said quickly. Adam finished what was in his cup and stood, heading toward the pot.

Turning back, he asked, “How do you take it?”

“Cream and three spoons of sugar, please, Sir.”

He poured the coffee and added the cream, not quite able to hide his smile as he stirred in the ridiculous amount of sugar. The coffee was steaming hot, and while he planned to hurt her today, accidentally burning her with scalding coffee was not the way he intended to do it. Handing her the cup, he said, “Here. You can hold it. When you’re done, wash the dishes and wipe down the counters.”

He took up the newspaper, pretending to ignore her as she sipped and then gulped the sweet coffee. When she was done she stood, smoothing her thighs as if she were smoothing the fabric of the skirt that wasn’t there. She cleared the dishes and went to the sink. He watched her openly as she cleaned up, again admiring the small dimples over her ass cheeks and the welt that, though fading, was still visible.

When Carly was done, she turned toward Adam, an expectant look on her face. Adam stood. “This morning I was going to begin with a flogging session just to warm you up, but you have an annoying habit that needs breaking. Follow me.”

Biting her lower lip, Carly followed him out of the kitchen and up the two flights of stairs to his dungeon. He left her standing in the middle of the room while he went to the cabinet and opened the drawer containing his gag collection. Finding what he was looking for, he removed it from its sterilized container and brought it to his naked slave girl, holding it out for her inspection.

“Do you know what this is?”

Carly stared at it with wide eyes. “No, Sir,” she breathed.

“It’s called a Whitehead gag. It was originally designed for dentists, the ultimate sadists, for when they want to keep your mouth wide open.” He touched her lips. “Open up. I’ll show you.”

Carly took a step back and Adam glared at her. “I said open your mouth.” He spoke sternly, daring her with his eyes to defy him. With obvious reluctance, Carly did as she was told. Adam placed the metal device in her mouth, positioning it behind her front teeth. Slowly he cranked the ratchet on the side of the gag, forcing her mouth wide open before locking it into place.

He massaged his cock through his shorts, toying with the idea of fucking her face, but first things first, he told himself. “Do you know why you’re wearing this particular gag, Carly?”

She shook her head, making an ineffectual sound.

“It’s because I’m tired of watching you nibble on your lower lip like it was a teething toy. You’ve been doing it since the second I bought you, despite my telling you repeatedly to stop it. It’s a bad habit, and not at all suitable behavior for a sub. I won’t have it, do you understand?”

The girl nodded, unable to reply, a miserable expression on her face. Adam continued, “You will wear this while you write your rules. It may be a little awkward but it’s perfectly safe.”

He led her to the cock box and had her kneel there. He brought over a clipboard with a pad of paper on it and set it, along with a pen, in front of her. Reaching into his shorts pocket, he took out the list of rules he’d typed up on his laptop while she was in the shower and set it beside the clipboard.

“You will write the rules, word for word, until you know them by heart. I’ll quiz you afterwards, so make damn sure you memorize them.” Carly lifted her hand to her open mouth, about to wipe a string of drool that slipped from the corner.

Adam stopped her, his hand on her wrist. “Un unh,” he informed her. “The drool will help you remember, next time you think about biting your lip. Right now you’re a drooling, naked object, and nothing more. You are being punished.” He let go of her wrist, watching as the drool slid down her chin and onto her breasts. “Now get on with it.”

Tears in her pretty eyes, Carly looked at the printed list of rules, took up the pen, and began to write.

Chapter 5

Carly’s chin and chest were covered with her own drool and her jaw ached. If he’d just take this horrible contraption off her, she’d never bite her lip again, she swore to herself. She’d written the rules five times and was reasonably sure they were imprinted on her brain. Setting the pen down on the ink-covered page, she sat back on her haunches, looking toward Adam with silent yearning.

He was in the chair across from her, a newspaper in his hands. He seemed engrossed in whatever he was reading. Carly tried to clear her throat, but only succeeded in making a strangled sort of gargling noise. It was enough, however, to make him look up.

“Yes?” he said, folding the paper. “Are you done?”

Carly nodded.

“What’s that?” Adam said, lifting his eyebrows. “Speak up, I didn’t hear you.”

“Eh ir,” was the best approximation Carly could manage.
Get this fucking thing off me!
she wanted to scream.

“So, if I remove the dental gag, you will recite the rules for me, in their entirety?”

“Eh, ir,” she gargled.

Placing the folded paper on the floor beside his chair, Adam stood and moved around the chest toward her. She leaned up, bending her head so he could unbuckle the gag, but instead she realized he was unzipping his shorts. Pulling out his cock, he took her head in both hands and guided her wide-open mouth over his shaft.

Carly gagged as the rapidly hardening cock poked far back against her throat. He thrust hard, pulling and pushing her head to create friction, while Carly struggled to breathe and swallow. As quickly as he started, however, he stopped, pulling away. He let his shorts fall to the ground and kicked them aside.

Bending down, he released the gag from its open position, allowing Carly to close her aching jaws. Unbuckling the strap, he pulled the gag from her mouth. Reaching for his shorts, he extracted something from the pocket and tossed her a bit of cloth that she realized was a handkerchief. Gratefully Carly wiped away the drool, while working her aching jaw.

“You’ve memorized the rules?” Adam asked as he watched her wiping herself.

“Yes, Sir,” Carly replied, unable to look away from the erect cock bobbing near her face.

“I thought about just having you recite them, but decided that would be too easy. A properly trained slave should be able to handle external stimuli while performing whatever task is assigned to her. I’ve decided this stimulus will be sexual in nature.”

Carly didn’t reply, as there had been no direct question, but her mind and body were instantly buzzing with the possibilities. What would it be like to feel that hard, thick cock filling her? Would she be able to focus enough to say her lines?

Adam apparently had something else in mind however, as he led her to a freestanding metal frame on the far side of the room that she realized she’d taken for a coat rack the night before. This morning nylon cuffs with Velcro closures were hanging from the top bar. Beneath it sat a low, wide stool covered in faded silk upholstery. Carly stood with her arms wrapped around her torso while she watched Adam, hardly daring to speculate what came next.

Reaching for the top bar, he released some kind of spring, which allowed him to lower the bar between the vertical rods that held it in place. She imagined he would have her sit on the stool, her wrists cuffed overhead, but instead Adam pointed toward the stool. “Lie face up on the stool so your lower back is straddling it. I’m going to lift your legs and strap your ankles to the bar.”

Carly tried to obey, feeling awkward and uncertain as she lay back on the stool. Grasping her ankles and pulling her legs upward, Adam secured them into the cuffs and then hoisted the bar up again. The position wasn’t precisely uncomfortable, as her neck and shoulders rested securely on the stool, but the position left her feeling very vulnerable.

Leaving her alone, he returned a moment later with a hank of rope, which he wound around her wrists, forcing her hands down to her chest, where they rested as if in prayer between her breasts. As it always did, the feel of rope against her skin sent shivers of warm, wet desire moving through Carly’s loins.