Buying the Virgin

Chapter 2: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Two



Chapter 2: The Girl Who Sold Herself - Chapter Two

“On your knees, Charlotte,” says my new Master.

I obey, trying not to graze my knees on the stone flag floor.

Looking me straight in the face, he says, “Are you really a virgin, Charlotte?”

I nod dumbly.

“Is Charlotte your real name?”

Shake head.

“No of course not. But for the avoidance of doubt for you, the auction house knows exactly who I am.”

He laughs. “If nothing else, they have my credit card details.”

Looking down at me, he tilts his head. “You are, how old? Twenty-two, was it?”

I nod.

“It’s not easy to be a twenty-two-year-old virgin these days. How did you manage it?”

“I got married. But he didn’t love me. I found out later that he’d only got married to please his parents…

He…he didn’t like girls… On our wedding night, he wouldn’t…” I run out of words.

My Master sucks in his cheeks. “Not a good start to life, I have to agree. So, after the failure of this

miserable marriage…?”

“I didn’t have anything. I didn’t know what to do. I want to go to college, but that needs a lot of money

and my parents can’t afford to help, so…”

“So, you decided to sell the assets you have, to the highest bidder to fund your way through college?”

“Yes.”

He leans forward, sliding a finger down the side of my face to my collar bone and down between my

breasts. “A brave thing to do. I have to admire your guts, but it was astonishingly dangerous. You’re

lucky to have me as your buyer. Men who play these sorts of games can have very…elaborate tastes

in entertainment. I suspect you didn’t know what you were agreeing to when you signed that contract.

I’m going to enjoy taking your cherry and I’ll test you to the edge with other games, believe me. But I

won’t do anything that might hurt you, not permanently.”

I gulp at the thought of what this might mean. What is he suggesting?

“Tell me Charlotte. How much were you hoping to make out of this? That auction total was good, but it

won’t get you through college.”

“I don’t really know. Just as much as possible.”

He pauses, obviously trying to choose his words. “The reason I am asking this Charlotte is that I have

paid a very good price for you, but you could earn more if you are willing and if you have the nerve to

carry it through.”

What does he mean? My mouth is dry and I simply wait for him to continue.

“Let me tell you a little about myself. You have done this because you dream of a better life. Good for

you. I have dreams too. Perhaps fantasies is a better word… One of them is to have a young and

beautiful girl kneeling naked in front of me.” He smiles down at me and I blush. “Another is…well, this is Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

going to be your first time. They say that we all remember our first time and I suppose mine would have

been about average. I was a young, incompetent fumbler, but an older woman did me a favour and

guided me through. She made it good for me. I’ve always dreamed of being able to take a girl’s virginity

and make her first time wonderful for her. Do you understand me?”

Feeling much reassured, “Mmm. That sounds…nice.”

“I’m glad you think so. Don’t worry. Your first time is going to be as good as I know how to make it for

you… However…” He draws a deep breath. “There was a room full of men in there who would willingly

pay to play other games with a girl like you: young, inexperienced, beautiful.”

My mouth is dry. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand…”

“I own you for a week, Charlotte. If you want to earn as much money as possible, then it doesn’t have

to be just me. I have other fantasies than simply having your virginity. I’d like to share you with other

men. Watch them with you. Let them watch me with you. Several of us sharing you. But…” He stabs a

finger towards me. “Understand that I won’t do this without your agreement and without you being well-

rewarded for it. I’m asking you now because while we are still here at the auction house, this could be

arranged if it is what you want and are willing to do it.”

I am shaking now. “Can I have a few minutes to think about it?”

“Of course. That’s only fair. I will stress, if you agree to this, you will be tested to the limit, but you won’t

be permanently hurt. I won’t let anything serious happen to you. I will be in control, and I will control

what happens. It’s your choice.”

He stands. “I’m going to leave you alone for a while. Give you some space to think. I’ll be next door.

Come through when you’re ready.”

He walks out, but then a moment later the door swings open again and he tosses something to me.

“And put your clothes on Charlotte. I own you now, but you are in charge of what happens in the next

few minutes.”

I get dressed, thinking hard. This could bring in enough to see me right through college. In truth, I know

that I am not considering what to do. I have already decided. I am simply screwing up the courage to

do it.

Fully dressed, I step into the auction chamber and stand on the podium again, head raised, standing

straight, staring over the sea of faces. They have waited. They knew this might happen. I stand with my

hands clasped before me. It was once given to me as advice for a job interview: clasp the hands

together so as not to show them shaking, to hide nerves. The advice stands me in good stead now.

Trying to keep any wavering out of my voice, I look at my Master, and then the auctioneer. “I’ll do it.

Let’s get on with it.”

There is a glint in my Master’s eye. He nods acknowledgement to me, but do I see… admiration?

The bidding resumes, but this time I am uncertain what exactly is being bid for. What have I agreed to?

All I know is that the bids keep climbing and that half that money is mine. I must simply keep my nerve

for a week. Light-headed, feeling a little spaced-out, I allow myself to drift off…

With a bang, the hammer comes down again. As I see the winning bid on the monitor, my heart misses

a beat. So much money. Who is it? Who is it?

Immediately, my Master comes to my side. Taking me by the arm he leads me to the office. “Sign there

and there, Charlotte. I’ll handle everything else. Don’t worry. I’ll look after you and your interests.”

I sign and then sit awhile while my Master speaks with the auctioneer. There is much muttered

discussion.

My Master breaks loose from the discussion, looking pleased. “Come on Charlotte. Let’s get you out of

here. You have an exciting week ahead of you.”

Still a bit dazed, I follow my Master. Taking my hand, as though we are a perfectly normal couple, he

hails a taxi and barks a hotel address at the driver. The address is very much at the classy end of town.

I had sort of expected this. With what he is paying for me, he just has to be rich. But when we arrive at

the block, we take the lift to the penthouse. He catches my eye. “Not my home Charlotte. I’ve just

rented it for the week, but the auction house knows where I have brought you.”

My jitters have returned and my Master sees this. “Relax. We’ll have a meal first I think. Calm you

down a bit. And perhaps some wine inside you might help? Do you like champagne?”

“Um, not sure. I’ve never had it.”

“Excellent. I can introduce you to it then? What kind of food do you like?”

“Err... Don’t mind really… Italian?”

“Fine. We’ll go to Luigi’s around the corner then. I’ll reserve a table for us. Why don’t you have a look

around? Have a bath or a shower perhaps? Make yourself comfortable. If you look in the wardrobes

you will find bathrobes and…other clothes. Look them over.”

I leave him calling the restaurant to make the booking. Exploring the huge apartment, the lounge is vast

and tastefully decorated, the bathroom luxurious, the bedroom…

The bedroom is beautiful. Whoever decorated it must have paid a fortune. The bed… I don’t want to

look at the bed. I explore the wardrobes instead, which do indeed contain bathrobes. The other clothes

range from jeans and tee-shirts, through the classic little black cocktail dress and evening gowns to…

Black leather? Vinyl? Some kind of harness? I take a robe and close the wardrobe again, turning to

head for the bathroom, and all but scream as I walk into my Master who is standing behind me, offering

me a champagne flute.


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