Chapter 12
Zoya~
I was sitting in the dining room with the other girls, and even though I’d made it through the front lobby without anyone detecting that I really wasn’t Montana Hughes, I could still feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. I couldn’t help but feel like someone was going to burst through the room at any moment to accuse me of fraud or identity theft.
“Okay, so...to ensure a successful match, we will need each of you ladies to fill out a limits card to distribute to our participants,” Stephanie explained as she walked around the room, placing white cards in front of each of the girls.
“Now, while I understand why you ladies are here, it is important to be completely honest on these cards. Promising something that you are not ready to deliver can ruin the evening, and if the experience is compromised because you weren’t honest, then your money cannot be guaranteed.
While it is very important that the auction is a success where the women are concerned, it’s just as equally important for the participants to have a successful evening as well. ”
When Stephanie placed the card in front of me, it was pretty standard as far as I could see. There was a list of sexual acts, and next to them, there were two boxes labeled yes and no, and there was even a space for clarification if needed.
The list was also rather detailed, listing everything that you could possibly think of, including excretion play, and I could feel my ears turn red as I read all the kinks that’d been listed, and while I wasn’t a virgin, some of the things on the card had hit me hard in my modesty.
Never would I imagine getting turned on by a man urinating on me, but there it was, on the list.
“If you really don’t want anyone bidding on you, you should just mark missionary,” Marcelle whispered as she leaned over to peek at my card. “It sounds boring enough that I can’t see any of them men starting a bidding war for something so uneventful.”
“Is that what you’re going to mark?” I whispered back as I checked the box as yes, marking everything else as no, even the foreplay boxes.
“Are you crazy?” she muttered. “I’m here to make as much money as I can. I’m marking every damn box there is.”
My prudish eyes widened at that. “You cannot be serious?”
“Well, I mean...I’m not going to mark the crazy stuff towards the end of the list, but I’m definitely marking everything else.”
It was hard not to gawk at her. “Even anal?”
“I actually don’t mind anal sex,” she replied easily. “It gets me off in that wild kind of way.”
As much as I’d like to be as open-minded as Marcelle, I was not about to give everything that I had to a complete stranger.
Even if it was for only one night, the last thing that I wanted to do was run into the man at the grocery store, knowing that he knew what I sounded like while taking it up the ass.
For me, that was the kind of stuff that should be reserved for serious relationships, not one-night stands.
“Do you really think that no one will bid on me if I only mark missionary?” I asked.
Marcelle nodded. “What’s more boring than missionary? Plus, they can get that kind of boring stuff from their wives at home.”
My mouth dropped opened at that. In all this time, I hadn’t even considered that some of these men might be married, but why wouldn’t they be?
In this day and age, marriage wasn’t the sacred sacrament that it’d been meant to be.
All it took was for someone to slip their wedding ring off their finger, and you’d never know.
Suddenly, I felt sick.
I wanted to get up to leave, but I knew that I’d cause a scene if I did that.
Marcelle had been very clear about the consequences once you agreed to be here, and the last thing that I wanted to do was bring the wrath of the Korolevs down on my head.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t sure how enjoyable the experience would be if I suspected that the man might be married.
“Do you really think that these guys are married?” I asked Marcelle, and she must have heard the panic in my voice, because instead of answering me, she turned to get Stephanie’s attention.
“Stephanie, I have a question.”
“Sure,” she replied as she gestured for Marcelle to ask it.
“Do you know if any of the men are married?” she asked. “I’m asking for the sake of safety and discretion.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” she replied, her brows furrowed.
“As well planned as this event is, I don’t need someone’s wife coming after me because she found a receipt or charge on his credit card,” Marcelle lied.
“I’m just...if I run into the man by accident at the park or somewhere, I’d just feel better if he didn’t have a whole family attached to his side. ”
Stephanie grinned while a couple of the other girls chuckled.
“No, I understand completely,” she assured us.
“And the answer is no. As part of the vetting process, we make sure that none of them are married as a guarantee that the monies will be paid. Besides, this auction isn’t to cater to men who simply want to step out on their wives.
“Okay, thank you,” Marcelle grinned. “I just wanted to be sure.”
“We strive for complete transparency to ensure that everyone has a safe and enjoyable evening here tonight,” Stephanie remarked, and I couldn’t lie and say that I didn’t feel better now. “Now, does anyone else have any questions or concerns?”
When no one spoke up, Stephanie left us to finish filling out the limits card, and trusting Marcelle’s theory about presenting myself as boring, I continued to go down the list, marking no to everything.
Now, while I was hoping for no bids, even if someone did take their chances with me, missionary was the only thing that would be expected of me, and I could do that.
Once we turned in our limits card, Stephanie was back to addressing us. “Next, you ladies will be drawing for your spot, which will be completely random.”
“Wait...we won’t all be on stage at the same time?” one of the girls asked.
Stephanie shook her head. “No, you will not. We don’t want any distractions during the bidding, and having you all on stage at one time may confuse the participants, and we don’t want that.”
“So, none of the men will know what we look like until we step out on stage?” another girl asked.
I watched as Stephanie did her best to sound respectable. “No, they will not. However, they don’t need to know what you look like.”
“Why not?” the same girl asked.
“They’re bidding for the use of your body, nothing more,” she answered bluntly, but not unkindly.
“Your looks are irrelevant to the purpose of this event. Now, do most men enjoy pleasant aesthetics? Yes, most of them do. However, the impression that you make when you walk onto that stage will speak for you, and that is what the participants will bid on. Remember, they are all here for sex, not to get to know you better.”
“What...what if no one likes...uhm, bigger girls?” another girl asked, and while she wasn’t what I would consider obese she also wasn’t petite.
“That is what the base consolation pay is for,” Stephanie answered.
“The truth of the matter is that you might not get any bids if you’re not to anyone’s liking, but truth be told, that’s the best-case scenario here.
You’ll get the full ten-thousand without having to go upstairs with someone that might not be to your liking.
Don’t forget, ladies...you don’t get to choose who bids on you. ”
“And this really is a one-time thing only?” another girl asked.
Stephanie nodded. “You will never get to sign up for this event again. So, my advice is that you make the most of the money that you earn here tonight, because short of making prostitution your actual profession in the future, you’ll never make this kind of money this easily.
” Looking around the room, she added, “Any more questions?”
When no one said anything more, Stephanie went on to explain how a suite had been reserved for us to get ourselves ready if we weren’t already. Honestly, the entire thing kind of felt like backstage at a beauty pageant, only with wild sex at the end of the ceremonies.
“Okay, ladies,” Stephanie said. “Follow me, and then we can get started.”
Dutifully, we all got up to follow her to the suite, and truth be told, there was no fixing me up more than I already was.
I had my best Easter dress on, I’d thrown my auburn hair up in a messy bun, and I’d done the best that I could with my makeup, trying so hard to go for classy and not too made up.
My heels were also modest when you compared them to everyone else, and it was hard not to laugh at just how boring I really did look when standing next to the other women.
God, please don’t let anyone bid on me.
Everything also seemed like it was going well enough until we were all heading towards the elevators and a voice that I knew all too well thundered throughout the lobby.
“What in the fuck?”
We all turned to see Kasimir Korolev staring us down, only he wasn’t staring us down.
He was only staring me down.