Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,23

remember to thank her after the auction. And also ask if I can keep this dress.

“Please check over the pamphlet one more time and make sure everything is accurate,” a heavyset woman with greying hair pulled into a bun says behind me, startling me.

I’ve read this pamphlet over and over. The sheer amount of paperwork I’ve had to fill out and read is exhausting. My stomach churns as I remember the psychological section. There was a box for me to write in. I was supposed to disclose my problem. I didn’t. I suck in a sharp breath as a lump grows in my throat.

I reach out and take the pamphlet, trying to catch my breath. I need to get a hold of myself. I open it up and read through the small description of me, and the list of kinks and fetishes I’m willing to try.

As I look through the rest of the pamphlet, I begin to feel like a prostitute. I try to push the thought from my mind as I take a seat at one of the chairs lining the wall, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m selling out. Cheapening myself. Just because there’s a written contract involved, how is this any different than selling myself for sex?

I can end up being a rich guy’s perverted fuck toy and nothing more and hating myself after the contract is over.

The thought makes me sick. It’s because of my money troubles that I’m thinking like this. And I have to be honest with myself--the money is tempting, and would solve so many problems in my life so easily. I want to cry for thinking about myself that way. But that’s not what this is for me. This is much more than just some easy money. And if this turns out to be anything less than what I want for myself, I’ll walk away from it all. The money doesn’t matter. I need more from this. I need the fantasy. My body heats, and my pussy pulses with need.

I can’t back out now. I have to go through with this. Carla’s gone through this same process, and look how happy she is with Bruce. She’s a successful career woman by day, and a perfect Submissive by night. Looking at her, you would never guess she's leading a double life. Using her as an example, I really should have nothing to worry about. I have to believe that this will help heal me, even if the man who buys me doesn’t know about my problems. He gets off on his sexual fantasies, I get the money and continue with the therapy that will help me. It’s mutually beneficial for the both of us. A win-win.

Feeling slightly better, I close the pamphlet. And not a moment too soon. The large woman who handed me the pamphlet is suddenly herding all the women in the room together.

“It’s time, ladies,” she announces. “Good luck with the auction tonight.”

As I line up with the other women, it’s obvious that the rest of them have done this before and they all know each other well. I pull at the hem of my dress as the women in charge call out names. I’m the second name called, and I force my legs to move as I walk to the front of the line. I peek out as she opens the door, but the curtains are closed. The floor of the stage is a shiny dark wood, and the walls are covered with a thick wallpaper with a subtle cream paisley pattern. Other than the gorgeous wallpaper, the stage is empty. There’s no detail whatsoever. It lacks the details and luxury that the rest of the club has in every other room.

I suppose the only detail on the stage will be each woman as she takes her turn in the auction.

“You seem very nervous,” a woman behind me says. The blonde woman in front of me turns around, and the two women look at me, waiting for me to respond.

“A little,” I breathe. No shit I am. Who wouldn’t be?

“Relax, you’ll make good money, and it’s so much fucking fun.”

The woman in front of me lets out a small laugh and then smooths her red dress. The dress itself is provocative. The deep V in front dips so low that it nearly shows her belly button, and there’s no back at all to the halter dress. It’s so revealing, but it suits her well. “It’s always a