Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,21

to see you back on the horse,” Isaac says with a smirk.

I huff a small grunt of a laugh. “I’ve just been busy.”

Zander smiles at my response and looks as though he’s contemplating opening his smart mouth for a response, but he doesn’t. Instead he rests his elbows on the table and looks to the stage.

“Have you two already picked out who you’ll be bidding on?” I ask. Although I’ve seen them at events and at a poker night here and there, no one’s spoken about Club X or any Submissives or partners recently.

Isaac shrugs, moving his eyes from the stage to me as he answers, “I’m here more for the company. Just biding my time until the show tonight.”

“Anything interesting?” I ask.

He raises his eyebrow and his blue eyes sparkle with mischief as he says, “Fire play.”

“Ah,” I answer and choose not to expand on my thoughts. I have no interest in fire play or anything that could cause serious scarring. No whips, no fire, no spikes or knives. My brow furrows, and I sit a little more comfortably in my seat.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist there, Lucian,” Isaac says with a grin that shows off his white teeth.

“Fuck off,” I say easily.

The guys laugh, and I feel a little more at ease.

“Seriously,” Zander says, “it’s good to see you here.”

I give him a simple nod. It is nice to be back. I can feel the adrenaline scorching my blood, and it’s intoxicating.

I haven’t been back since before Tricia. My ex-wife. I took her here a few times for some shows to see how things were performed. I let her pick out her favorites. The memory turns the corners of my lips down, and the excitement dims. But I shake it off, clearing my throat and ridding my mind of all thoughts of her.

I flip through the pamphlet, leaning back in my chair and scanning the verbiage I’ve read a time or two before.

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. 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:

As I turn the page to read about the women and their desires, the lights darken and a loud click prefaces the thick red velvet curtains opening slightly and the auctioneer walking onto the stage.

The auction is starting.

Chapter 8

Dahlia

Just relax and everything will be fine, I tell myself as I step into a room backstage to prepare for the auction.

There's a group of scantily-clad girls already getting ready, and some of them are naked, looking through a rack of skimpy outfits to find which one suits them best. None of them appear to be nervous like I am, or at least they’re very good at hiding it.

If they can be cool and collected under pressure, so can I.

I suck in a deep breath, my palms moist with perspiration, my heart racing, and try to calm my nerves. I have to get a hold of myself. I don’t want to walk out on stage and wind up fainting because I’ve worked myself up into a tizzy. I can do this. I just have to keep telling myself how much I need this experience.

Trying to ignore my anxiety, I make my way over to an unattended clothing rack near the rear of the room. I begin sifting through outfits, looking for one that best matches my personality. After a moment of searching, I let out a huff of frustration. I don’t see anything that I think looks better than