Obsession (34 page)

Sure enough, the next words that rolled out of the auctioneer’s mouth made her wince. “Gia is fond of forced seduction and abduction scenarios. She also enjoys relationships where the man is powerful, someone to be feared and respected, but gentle with her…to a point. She craves dominance and has yet to achieve subspace. Well, I’m sure we can help her learn how to fly.”

More audience laughter, along with a few catcalls. “Her trainers, Mistress Viola and Master Mark from the South Carolina club, The Iron Fist, have said she can be a bit of a brat and will need a firm hand. At her core, Gia is eager to please and wants to be found worthy of your attentions.”

Harper gave her fingers the barest squeeze and whispered, “Breathe.”

Gia sucked in an audible breath, and the audience chuckled. She imagined how they were talking about her, commenting on her bony knees, her giraffe neck, her tiny breasts. Here, under the bright lights, all of her insecurities threatened to rise to the surface and overwhelm her. A man to the left commented on her pierced nipples while a woman somewhere ahead of her made a nasty remark about Gia’s small tits.

This was the single most embarrassing, humiliating, terrible experience of her life. Tears threatened to fill her eyes and she blinked rapidly. No, she was not going to cry, at least, not right now. When no one bid on her, she could let her tears flow.

“This lovely submissive has agreed to one week serving the winning bidder. Masters and Mistresses, let us start the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars.”

Gia swallowed hard as the first bid came in. She had no idea how the auctioneer could see who was in the audience, but the bids kept climbing. When the staggering figure of close to four hundred thousand dollars was reached she openly gaped.

Two men were bidding. One was an American from one of the New England states by his cultured tone. The other had a rough, almost bestial voice with a sharp, growling tenor to it and an accent she couldn’t place. Her few remaining brain cells that weren’t freaking out, tried to focus on the spot the voices were coming from. She could barely see the outline of what might be people sitting in chairs.

The man with the rough, accented voice roared out, “Four hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”

Silence hung heavy in the air. Even the auctioneer seemed stunned. It took him a moment to respond before he coughed and said, “I have four hundred and twenty-five thousand US dollars. Going once...going twice…sold!”

Gia stood there in total shock. Four hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars! That was a life-changing amount of money for the rescue shelter. She spent one weekend a month volunteering, so she knew exactly how far they could stretch it—definitely a new building, maybe even enough to purchase the plot of land behind them and turn it into a dog run. They could even add a full-time vet on staff with that kind of money.

With a gentle tug, Harper brought Gia’s thoughts back to the present in a rush. Harper smiled at her and led her to the edge of the stage. Her time with the winning bidder began right now. For the amount he paid for her, Gia wanted to show him the time of his life, to somehow be worth all the money he’d spent. Hell, she didn’t care if he was eighty years old with liver spots on his balls, she would do her best to rock his world in thanks for his amazingly generous bid.

The spotlights turned away and she blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyesight. They took a few steps and were almost at the main floor when Harper paused.  A moment passed, then a man said something in what she thought was Russian or some type of Slavic language. She looked to Harper, who gave her a slight shake of her head. Great. Harper didn’t understand what was going on either.

A second man approached and she could see him a bit better. His suit was tan and stood out in the dim lighting of the audience.

“Your new Master extends his greeting. He is pleased to have won your service. You will wait for him in one of the sitting rooms while he finishes his business here.”

Gia took a deep breath. Okay, she was really doing this. Soon she was going to make her first impression with a Master, not just any Master,
her
Master. She needed to do this right, but she really wished she could see what he looked like.

She held her hand out and the man in the tan suit moved forward. He helped her down from the stage and released her once she reached the bottom. He motioned to her, and she followed him out of the auditorium past men and women whose attention had returned to the stage where the next submissive was being brought out. They went down an elegantly appointed hallway done in red tones until he stopped before a door with the number seven on it. He opened the door and held it for her.

“Please wait inside. He will be with you soon.”

She wanted to ask who 'he' was, but silence seemed to be the best option at this point.

The man in the tan suit left quickly, and she turned to look at the room around her. To her surprise it wasn’t some kinky sex room, but rather a small reading area. A fire crackled in the black marble hearth, and deep burgundy velvet chairs were arranged artfully before it. Books lined the walls, but she didn’t think she could focus enough to read.

There was a gilt-framed mirror above the fireplace, so she took a moment to check her reflection. A few wisps of her wavy light brown hair had escaped her waist length braid and she quickly smoothed them back into place. Her makeup was intact, and she did a quick check of her breath. Good to go there as well.

Not knowing what else to do, she knelt in the center of the room and waited for her Master as she’d been taught.

She’d scarcely settled and arranged her robe about her in what she hoped was a pleasing manner when the door handle turned again. It opened revealing a massive, thoroughly intimidating man with dark hair that was cut so close on the sides it was almost shaved. A scar went down his cheek and bisected his lips before trailing down to his strong chin. He wore an impeccably tailored, black wool suit that highlighted his fit figure. On his wrist gleamed a gold watch that probably cost more than her apartment building.

She’d been expecting some elegant, sophisticated man who reeked money and class. The man standing before her was plain scary. Despite his obviously high-end apparel he somehow exuded danger. In a way, he reminded her of the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was a good five inches taller than she with a body like a prizefighter. No pretty gym muscles here; this man had a barrel chest and massive thighs, not to mention huge arms.

Gia looked back to his face and forced herself to meet his brilliant blue eyes. To her surprise he had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen, Caribbean blue with hints of green here and there. They seemed out of place in his rough and imposing features. He had a solid jaw, good cheekbones, and a nose that was a little bit bigger than normal and looked like it had been broken more than once.

The man reached down and took her hand. As he pulled her to her feet, she had the impression of great strength. The hand holding hers was large with scars across the knuckles. Whoever this man was, he’d been a fighter at one time. The scent of his cologne reached her and she took in a greedy lungful of the air around him. He smelled delicious, like leather and spice.

“My name is Ivan. I am your new Master’s bodyguard, and I will be taking you to him.”

His voice was a deep rumble, like rocks grinding against each other. She was surprised to find herself disappointed he wasn’t the man who had bought her. Attraction arced between them and she looked away, embarrassed by her body’s reaction to the man who was not her new Master.

Unable to help herself, she took another deep breath of his cologne and her overactive imagination began to conjure all kinds of kinky things. Glancing down at his big hands she tried to imagine what it would be like to be spanked by someone as large as him, or what it would feel like to have all of that weight on her, pushing her into the mattress while he fucked her. Power and strength radiated from him in a way she’d never experienced with any Dom before, similar to the way Master Martin’s presence filled the room but somehow…sharper.

Her nipples drew to hard points and she quickly looked away from him. She’d always had a thing for men’s hands and his were inspiring an almost dizzying amount of lust. He moved his hands so they framed his crotch, and she realized with a start he thought she was staring at his dick. As she looked back up to his face she found him smirking down at her.

Damn, totally busted like some kind of hoochie for checking out a guy who wasn’t her Master.

She was such a lousy submissive.

Something in Ivan’s gaze sharpened, and she looked away, unable to hide from his scrutiny. He removed his jacket and held it out to her, revealing a crisp white shirt that stretched out over his impossibly broad shoulders. “Your Master wishes you to wear this so you don’t get cold. Though your American fall is like the summer in Russia, that little scrap of nothing won’t protect you from the chill.”

Unsure if he wanted her to respond, she simply nodded and let him help her into the jacket. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile that made her heart lurch. With a gentle touch, he draped the heavy coat around her. It hung to almost her knees and held the scent of his cologne and natural musk. She pulled it tight and gave him a grateful smile.

“Thank you.”

“What is your safeword?”

She blinked at him and tugged his jacket closer. “Damascus.”

“Damascus? Like the city?”

“Yes, Sir.” Both men looked at her, obviously expecting more of an answer so she babbled out, “My mother was part Syrian. We would visit there in the summer every other year when I was little.”

The man nodded and took a step back, obviously putting some distance between them. She worried he thought she flirted with him. All she needed was her new Master thinking she was the kind of submissive who would screw anyone that smiled at her.

Ivan gave her another searching look before he turned. She followed, trying to at least walk gracefully. Mistress Viola had once said a submissive should be like a living work of art, graceful and flowing, a pleasure to the eye and touch, a joy to behold.

While she would probably never be anyone’s joy to behold, at least she wouldn’t embarrass her new Master. With the big strides Ivan was taking she wasn’t as smooth as usual. Instead she clutched his jacket around herself and hurried after him. They passed a few other couples on their way through the mansion, including a Master who was rather vigorously fucking his new female submissive on the bottom steps of a set of stairs.

Lucky girl.

All too soon, they reached the front door. Ivan stopped and looked down at her bare feet. Standing this close to him made her feel small, feminine, and vulnerable. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She gave a somewhat undignified squeak and instinctively laced her arms around his neck. The sensation of his rock solid muscle surrounding her was arousing, and made her feel safe even as she scolded her body for responding to the wrong man. She looked up at him as he carried her outside and studied his profile. He had the look of some old time warlord, the kind of man who conquered the world in his spare time.

No, she needed to keep her focus on her new Master, whoever he was. Making herself look away, she studied the drive in front of the mansion and the cars parked there. Ivan headed to the left and tucked her closer to his body as a stiff wind filled with the spicy scent of fall leaves tickled her nose. He radiated warmth and she removed her hands from around his neck before tucking them against his chest.

They reached a black limo and a tall, lean man in a silver suit stood beside it. He had dark brown hair and grey eyes, and a well-trimmed beard. When he spotted her, he didn’t say anything, merely nodded at Ivan and opened the door before getting into the limo.

She pushed at Ivan’s chest. “Please let me go, I need to properly greet my Master.”

Ivan looked down at the pavement then back at her feet. “No.”

Befuddled, she found herself in the limo before she knew it with her new Master sitting at the front near the partition between the passenger section and the driver. She quickly took a seat at the long bench along the side of the limo, unsure if she should sit next to her new Master or wait for him to motion her over. He certainly didn’t appear eager for her to join him. When she smiled and tried to catch his eyes, he looked away. Ivan climbed in after her and took the back seat between the two doors. As they pulled away from the mansion, she wished the week was already over.

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