Cherie waggled her brows. “Don’t mention it. Just remember you have friends in high places if you land in bed with Wyatt and Sebastian. If I found myself sandwiched between the two of them, I’d never leave the bedroom.”
“You’re up, Cherie,” someone said.
She waved good-bye. “You’ll have an extraordinary time tonight, friend.”
Kimberly had no other choice but to believe her.
* * * *
“Gentlemen, the next submissive comes to us from North Carolina,” the auctioneer began his dramatic introduction twenty minutes later. “She arrived here tonight with a Dominant several of us know well—Wyatt Clanton.”
A low roar filled the room. Sudden tremors shot through Kimberly’s body and she couldn’t help but give herself over to the excitement.
This was a defining moment, she thought. In many ways, she couldn’t think of a more enticing first date. Aroused, she couldn’t help but believe that Wyatt may have been so in tune with her needs and desires that he’d strategically plotted the perfect evening right from the start.
“Before we meet our next beautiful submissive, I need to share with you Mr. Clanton’s comments.”
The room fell quiet again. The auctioneer cleared his voice and began what sounded like a rehearsed introduction.
“Tonight is my first date with the lovely woman you’re about to meet. She hasn’t been collared and is not owned or committed to another Dom. However, don’t let that fool you. I will, in the name of philanthropy, run up a bid as high as possible.” The auctioneer released a heavy breath and said finally, “Mr. Clanton says if anyone here plans to spend time with Miss Cartwell this evening, the price will be extremely high.”
A rumble commenced and Kimberly overheard words and phrases like, “Cartwell? From Fletcher, North Carolina?” Then, “Anybody know if she’s Kane Cartwell’s daughter?” The worst included accusations about Jason as well. “You need to make her sign her sub card. Last I heard, Jason Neely was her Dominant. As one of the founding members of The Elite Gentleman’s Club, I can’t be responsible for her assignment here this evening.”
By the resounding racket, several debates began. She didn’t belong to Jason Neely. Then, she did. No one gave a damn about Neely one second and in the next breath, several men there feared him.
“Jason Neely, hell!”
The place quieted. Kimberly would’ve given anything to peer beyond the drapes and find out who stopped the discussion in motion. She was pretty sure it wasn’t Wyatt.
“Mr. Ketchum, do you have something you’d like to add this evening? Since you’re our host, I’m sure no one will be opposed.”
“As a matter of fact, I’d like the floor,” he said.
Heavy footsteps thudded in her direction and Kimberly tried to steady her trembling hands. Who was this Sebastian Ketchum and why would he take a stand by voicing his opinion about her relationship with Jason?
A few seconds later, she heard, “Good evening. I’m Sebastian Ketchum, your host this weekend.”
“Wait a minute,” Kimberly said, turning to the woman behind her. “Did he say weekend?”
“Shh,” she whispered, placing her finger over her lips.
Someone next to her said, “Read your card. It’s all there.”
Kimberly hurriedly scanned the fine print. Sure enough, in small bold lettering, the fine print disclosed the length terms. Subs signing their cards agreed to seventy-two hours of specified service, including but not limited to subservient behavior with safe words in play, sexual innuendoes and other activities to be determined between a Dominant partner or a group of partners and the submissive woman donating her time for charity.
“I want to bring a few items to your attention,” Sebastian Ketchum stated loudly. “The submissives waiting for the auction block are given a sub card to read over the rules decided upon by The Elite Gentleman’s Club.
“We pride ourselves on making sure the auction is conducted at the beginning of our weekend functions so we can insure none of the women are brought to the auction block under duress or the influence of drugs and/or alcohol.
“Miss Cartwell is here of her own free will. The auctioneer will ask her a series of questions once she is brought forward and prior to the first bid. The issue of Jason Neely may be addressed then as well since there seems to be some question of her relationship with another Dominant.”
Kimberly took a deep breath. What had she gotten herself into? And how had she ended up there when she had been the one to instigate the date in the first place?
She thought about that for a moment while Sebastian continued to speak to his audience. Had Trixie raced into action after she heard of her breakup with Jason? Had she summonsed Wyatt to the club in hopes of arranging a date? Had she played right into his hand all along?
Probably.
“Are there any other questions?” Sebastian asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“Does her daddy know she’s here?”
“Miss Cartwell is not under her father’s thumb,” Sebastian assured the crowd. “She is in her mid-to-late twenties and has her own life apart from her mother and fathers. She is part owner in Clink, one of the South’s most reputable BDSM clubs. Most of you here know Clink’s reputation. Many of you have visited the establishment.”
“Her parents know she’s here.”
“What?” Kimberly muttered to herself, recognizing Wyatt’s voice. Had he called one of her fathers and asked for his permission? If so, why?
“Don’t get me wrong,” someone said. “She’s a charming young woman and quite gorgeous, too, but the Cartwells have political pull in our community. They’re the reason so many of these clubs and charitable functions are legal now in the first place. I don’t believe in cutting off the hands that feed us.”
“Agreed,” Wyatt said.
“Which is why I’ve spoken to Kane Cartwell myself,” Sebastian said, his voice resounding. “Due to the sponsor’s past problems with Mr. Neely, some of you had legitimate concerns. I put questions to rest for my own benefit as much as yours.”
His benefit? Just who did this Mr. Sebastian Ketchum think he was?
“We’ve both spoken to the family,” Wyatt said.
“You must be somebody special,” one woman drawled, rolling her eyes. “They’re holding up the auction to talk about your eligibility.”
Yes, and she was furious!
Before she became too worked up, she reminded herself of Wyatt’s friendship with Mitch. Of course, if Mitch had known where Wyatt had planned to take her then Trixie had known as well. And Trixie confided in Vicky, who in turn told their mother everything.
Undoubtedly, her parents realized where she was and probably even knew when she’d arrived there.
“Well then,” someone said. “If her dad knows she’s here, I may bid on this one myself.”
“Just remember strenuous guidelines are in place,” Sebastian said. “The Elite Gentleman’s Club will not tolerate any abuse of power or mistreatment of any submissive woman.”
“Why would anyone abuse the women here?” someone asked. “They’ve generously donated their time.”
“And their bodies,” another man chimed in.
Kimberly’s muscles felt overly sensitive then as she thought of the reality of her situation. The last commenter made a valid point. The women there donated their time and their bodies. In some cases, the submissives engaged in several sex acts that went along with those bodies.
A few seconds later, the auctioneer said, “While we’re waiting on Miss Cartwell’s sub card, I’d like to remind you that it’s very important to pay close attention to the details provided by our submissive participants. If a submissive woman has certain limitations, you will be apprised of these challenges while we’re reviewing her card.
“There is no reason for a man looking for a slave to pursue a woman only interested in light bondage and spankings. Further, if a sub has made it known she cannot and will not tolerate certain activities, be mindful of those limitations and do not bid for the sub’s time.”
“Ha!” someone bellowed. “If that’s the gal who was hooked up with Neely, I doubt she has any limitations!”
“Do those men know I can hear them?” Kimberly asked, addressing Jaelon when she noticed him standing in the shadows.
“I’ll speak with Sebastian and Wyatt,” he said, giving her a warm smile.
Kimberly caught him by the sleeve. “It’s okay. I’ve been in similar situations.”
“Very well, Miss Cartwell,” he said.
She dragged her fingertips across her forehead. Her only wish was a logical one then. She couldn’t say with certainty what had happened at other events, but she had a feeling many of the men on the other side of the curtain had been in attendance. Some of them must’ve realized her relationship with Jason had been volatile.
Kimberly glanced up at the curtain before her. She viewed the heavy black material as a veiled cloth of dark perception. She wondered then if this moment was a staged event, a well-plotted art of trickery.
Whatever happened on the other side of the curtain, how she perceived the acts set to unfold determined how well she would enjoy her evening. The next stage of this event, once she walked across the runway, was nothing more than another path in life destined to steer her in a different direction from where she’d once been.
She quickly finished reviewing her sub card and handed the signed document to the sponsor associate. He immediately thanked her for her participation and ducked behind the curtain. Kimberly held her breath. In another moment, the auctioneer would talk about her assets and invite her to join them on the auction block.
Clicking her purse open, she quickly looked at her cell phone. A text message from Jason lit up the screen.
My power in the BDSM community is limitless. Tonight, you’ll become a believer. You belong to me.
Her pulse raced. Her heart skipped a few beats. She quickly typed out a return message:
I am my own person.
Before she had a chance to tuck her phone away, another text bubble appeared on the phone’s facing.
If you were your own person, I wouldn’t have received information about your whereabouts. You belong to me, Kimberly. You’ll see. Enjoy your catwalk, sub.
Rather than argue, she slipped her phone inside her purse and grinned to herself. Normally, Jason’s methods would’ve left her uneasy, even angst-ridden, but not tonight.
Instead, Cherie’s words rang in her ear. She’d given her the additional confidence to face the auction block. Wyatt had assured her everything would be okay. And this Sebastian guy? Well, his voice alone could provoke a woman into a screaming orgasm. What else could he do?
If he and Wyatt were friends, maybe she’d soon find out.
Kimberly’s heart slammed against her chest as soon as she stepped through the parted curtain. She was directed to a boxed-in cage with red velvet material covering all sides except the back.
Once there, one of the attendants came forward. “May we blindfold you?”
“Yes.”
A dark mask was secured over her eyes. As the blackness registered, she wished she had taken a moment to survey the audience. She should’ve scanned the crowd and located Wyatt.
“Miss Cartwell, we’ll run through the rest of this list as quickly as possible. Remember the more you agree to, the more money you’ll potentially raise for the charity.”
“I understand,” she said.
“Since you’re one of the first women to be auctioned, and you’re considered a premier date since no one here has enjoyed the pleasure of your company, I’d like to encourage you to choose your—well, let’s just call them props—carefully.
“With that in mind, we still aim to keep our submissive women safe. More than anything else, we want you to feel confident in that safety so feel free to decline any of the mentioned props or all of them. You’re in control here.”
“I feel that,” she admitted, realizing as soon as she’d said as much her voiced opinion might be viewed as defiance. Still, she didn’t want them to think she was afraid. Fear was a weakness, particularly in these settings.
So far, this entire experience had left her with some apprehensions, but if she had to pick one adjective to describe how she’d felt since she’d entered the mansion on the hillside, she could easily define her feelings. She was empowered and with that empowerment came a level of confidence she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“Are you ready, Miss Cartwell?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s begin.”
* * * *
“Holy hell.” Sebastian released a guttural growl and turned his gaze to the ceiling.
Wyatt’s mouth dried as he processed.
All heads turned upward as a collective gasp fell across the crowd.
“Remind me to punish her for this,” Sebastian said.
“You’ll have to beat me to it,” Wyatt promised, glaring at the auctioneer.
Jaelon stood at the edge of the runway, making his presence there known. He flashed Wyatt and Sebastian a smile.
“If that rope snaps, I’ll fire him on the spot.”
“You should fire him for letting her agree to suspension bondage,” Wyatt pointed out.