Sold to the mafia

Isaac

Dec. 15th.

“I will fucking murder you,” I say in a low threatening tone as Zander picks up his paddle.

“I’m only holding it. What’s the big deal?” he asks with a shrug.

Cocky fucker. He grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, and everything’s a game to him. He’s a good man with a big heart, and I owe him more than I can ever return. But I will seriously smash his pretty boy face in with my fist if he bids on my kitten.

“I think he’s just fucking with you,” Lucian says quietly, although there’s a trace of humor in his voice. He’s a lucky fucking bastard, I think as I stare at his hard jaw and handsome smirk. Dahlia is his, only his, and he’s keeping her. He bought her here a month ago, but she loves him. She’ll never leave him.

And why would she? He’s worked his way from the bottom to the top. He wants a family–fuck, he has one to give her, if he wanted to. His parents are dead to him, but he has a sister who already loves Dahlia. He has wealth and a normalcy I’ll never have. I’m sure in only a few years, they’ll be a happy family, complete with children.

He’s not haunted by the fact that he watched his own mother die. While he did nothing.

He’s not a murderer.

I am. I’ll never be anything more than that.

What’s worse? I don’t want anything other than this relationship with Katia. I only want the exchange between a Master and Slave. I’ve never known anything else. And I never will.

I may be able to buy Katia now. She may learn to love being my kitten. I’ll make sure of that. But one day she’s going to want more. I know she will. I’ll just need to end it before she realizes it.

“I still don’t understand why you even let her participate,” Lucian says.

“There’s no collar on her neck. He has no say.” I grit my teeth at Zander’s immediate response. As the last word comes out of his mouth, he catches my glare and at least has the decency to seem apologetic.

Lucian shoots him a look, and I fucking hate it. It’s the same look everyone’s been giving me. I’m hung up on a woman who refuses to wear my collar. I have ideas of what they think about her going up on stage.

The first being that she wants someone else.

The second that it’s a punishment given to her, to give her to someone else for a month.

Both situations have happened before between couples in the club.

A few have gone to auction monthly. The Dominant purchasing his Submissive each time, like a game. Role playing of sorts. A fucking expensive one with bidding starting at 500K.

Of course, none of that is true for my Katia.

I owe Madam Lynn for this. I don’t know how I’ll repay her, but I will.

I tap my foot anxiously on the ground as I wait in the darkened room upstairs where the small stage is. There’s red and black everywhere with small circular tables covered in pure white linens.

It reminds me of a burlesque room, only the show is the women, allowing themselves to be auctioned.

I glance at the pamphlet I was given when I walked in.

There are strict guidelines that must be adhered to by both buyer/seller to gain entry and to continue membership.

Membership is one hundred thousand per month and allows members to attend auctions and enjoy all the privileges of membership.

All parties are clean and agreeing to sexual activities and must provide proof of birth control.

The women are displayed and purchased in an auction setting with a starting bid of five hundred thousand. Subsequent bids will be in increments of one hundred thousand dollars.

NDAs are required, and paperwork will be signed after the purchase.

Any hard limits are noted at auction and will be written in the individual contracts.

The rose color of the Submissive indicates her preferences, so please take note.

Pink – Virgin

Cream – Finding limits/BDSM virgin

Yellow – Simple bondage D/s

Black – Carte blanche

Red – Pain is preferred S/M

No flower – 24/7 power exchange

The buyers must adhere to all rules of the club, or they will be banned and prosecuted. The Submissives must also obey all rules, or buyers can take legal action and no money will be paid.

With the accepted terms and conditions, the willing participants of this auction are as follows.

I turn the page, and there she is. She’s the first one tonight.

A large movement at the entrance to the room makes me turn. My blood runs cold. Joseph Levi. He looks me in the eyes behind his mask before taking a seat on his own at an empty table across the room.

Thick waves of smoke from the cigars a few men are smoking cloud my view of him. Out of everyone here, he’s the only one I’d consider telling what’s going on.

Zander and Lucian know. But the other men? I couldn’t give a fuck.

But Joe wants a Slave. And I’m tempted to let him know why I’ve allowed her to go up for auction.

Why I’m eager and grateful that she accepted Madam Lynn’s proposal.

I don’t know exactly what she said. But I do know that I’ll have my kitten how I rightfully should in less than an hour.

My heart’s beating frantically in my chest, and my nerves are high. I just want this to be over with.

“It’ll be fine,” Zander says, putting his paddle down on the table. “No one wants to fuck with you.” He meets my eyes but I instinctively look back to Joe, whose eyes are on the stage.

The already dim lights in the room lower, and the room darkens.

With a click, the spotlight shines on the thick red curtains. The auctioneer, dressed in a simple black suit and slim black tie speaks into the microphone, “Good evening, gentlemen. Let the auction begin.”

The curtains draw back slowly, and my skin prickles with a mix of emotions.

My kitten is standing front and center. Alone on the stage with lights shining on her sun-kissed skin. It’s so bright that the scars are hidden. You can’t see from here how they speckle her shoulders. But I know they’re there.

She stands with her hands clasped in front of her, no rose present, and her head bowed.

My lungs still in my chest, and my grip tightens on the paddle.

She’s going through with it. She’s really taking this leap of faith.

“We’ll start the bidding at five hundred thousand dollars,” the man says, and I raise my paddle silently. I’ll gladly hand over my entire fortune to have her. I only need this one chance.

“Six,” Joe’s voice rings out in the room, and my jaw clenches. My body heats with anger as I feel the eyes of every man in the room on me.

“Six hundred thousand, do we have seven?”This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

I raise my paddle silently, not trusting myself to speak. “Seven to the gentleman in the right corner.”

Katia’s head lifts slightly, and she looks up at me. Her eyes are wide and pleading. They fall as Joe yells out, “Eight.” Her fingers play along the hem of her sheer black dress.

I know she’s frightened, for many reasons, and I fucking hate that she’s suffering in yet another way. Fear of a different man taking her.

“She’s mine. Nine hundred thousand,” I spit out, standing from my seat and making my position known.

“Gentlemen, please. The rules will be followed,” the auctioneer reminds me, but I refuse to sit.

“One million,” Joe says, looking straight into my eyes and then back to Katia. “Kneel,” he yells out and her legs waver slightly. But she resists. She looks up at him with her bottom lip trembling. She’s fucking terrified.

“Kitten. You will bow for me,” I say confidently. As she lowers herself to the floor, bowing for all to see, I raise my paddle again.

“One million and one-” the auctioneer starts to say, but he’s interrupted by the sound of Joe’s chair scraping across the floor as he storms out. He brushes past a few men and it’s obvious that he’s pissed off. But he’s conceded. Her preference and obedience toward me have been made clear.

There’s a murmur in the room as the auctioneer clears his throat and speaks into the microphone.

“One million one hundred thousand, going once,” he says, but his voice lacks enthusiasm and he doesn’t even bother looking around the room.

My eyes are focused on my sweet pet, obediently bowed on the shining wooden floor of the stage, her eyes straight ahead, focused on the fabric of the curtains pressed against the side of the stage.

“Going twice.”

I watch as she takes in a shuddering breath and her eyes become glassy. She closes them tightly, and tears fall down her flushed face.

“Sold.”