”Promise you’ll be open minded?”
Natalie, a full martini glass in hand, felt absolutely certain she could be as open-minded as she needed to be. Her curiosity had pecked at her the entire afternoon and by the time five o’clock came around she all but pounced on Quinn for information.
“I usually am anyway,” Natalie admitted. “But yes, I promise.”
Quinn took a long but delicate sip from her own martini glass and then set it on the bar. She leaned in towards Natalie and Natalie reciprocated, ready to be told that the scandal was nothing more than Quinn having a sugar daddy. Or something.
“I am an occasional participant in an exclusive and extremely private club frequented by men with a certain amount of wealth and a particular kind of taste.”
Natalie’s eyes searched Quinn’s own hazel eyes. She repeated the words in her mind;
extremely private club, particular kind of taste
. “What does that mean?”
Quinn’s glossy chestnut hair framed her face as she leaned in even closer, and a whiff of Chanel perfume danced in Natalie’s senses. “Wealthy men pay me for the pleasure of my company.”
That… was not at
all
what Natalie was expecting to hear. “You’re an escort?” She winced at the slight sound of judgment in her voice and shook her head. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m open-minded. You’re an escort?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Quinn confirmed, leaning back in her seat and sipping generously from her martini glass. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, believe me. It’s more like I’m a perk offered to members of a private club.”
“And that’s how you’re ‘well kept’?”
“It is. Still open-minded?”
“Is there more?” Natalie asked incredulously.
“Take another few sips of your drink and I’ll answer that.”
Natalie did as instructed, feeling all of a sudden like the most popular girl in school just asked her to sit with her at lunch and share in her revered popularity. Only the most popular girl in school was some kind of, what? Fancy prostitute?
“I see judgment on your face, Natalie,” Quinn chided.
“No! No, I promise I’m not judging. I’m just… unclear about what it is exactly you do.”
“Once a month I am picked up and taken to a very private location where I and about a dozen other women are-“ she seemed to be picking her next word quite carefully, “
offered
,” she said clearly, “to a selection of members. It’s kind of like an auction in a sense, only
I
am what is up for bidding.”
“What happens when a man bids on you?”
“Any number of things,” Quinn shrugged and took another sip. “Some men just want company. Some delight in giving jewelry or other gifts. Most men, however, want more.”
“
More
?”
“More.”
“You mean sex?” Natalie blanched.
“I mean sex. Very hot, very exciting, very fulfilling sex, if I were going to quantify it.”
“Oh my god!” Natalie expelled through her breath. “Is it an ongoing arrangement or a singular event?”
“I’ve had men bid on me more than once, but it’s just for the evening and I get to go home the next morning with a lot more money than I left home with.”
Natalie chewed on the insides of her cheeks and tried to picture the scene Quinn had laid out for her. A man would buy her for the evening, they’d have sex, and she’d go home the next morning with money in her pocket. How was that not like a prostitute? And illegal?
“For what it’s worth — because I know you’re thinking about it — participation is consensual. There’s no outright expectation of sex but most of us know that it is very likely to happen. And like I said, it isn’t terrible.”
“How
not
terrible?”
Quinn bit down on her bottom lip as it spread into a smile. “What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?”
Natalie flushed, undoubtedly into the color of red rose petals, and took the moment to take a few sips of martini.
“Unless you’re a… you’re not a virgin?”
“No! No I’m not a virgin I’m just… a bit inexperienced.”
“How many men have you slept with?”
Natalie blushed a deeper shade of crimson. “A few. Like I said earlier, I don’t have much of a social life.”
“You have that great body and only one or two people have taken advantage of it?” She almost looked offended at the very notion of it.
“Um,” Natalie didn’t know what to say, and this time she was certain that instead of her face filling with a flush of blood it had been drained of it entirely. She looked around the crowded bar to make sure no one had heard her friend’s words and was pleased to see they were largely left alone.
“Natalie Harlow please
do not
tell me there is a self-conscious bone in your body. I happen to know for a fact someone like you would do very well in my extra-curricular line of work.”
In fact she was self-conscious, though not on a daily basis. Having someone so boldly point out her body to her, however, was another story entirely.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that if you can keep that open mind and you’re not opposed to what is essentially a great one night stand, I think I have an opportunity for you to make some money to pay off those crushing student loans of yours. What are your plans for tomorrow night?”
”Gentleman we have a fine assortment to offer you this evening,” a rich, disembodied voice filled the room, startling Natalie. Still, her eyes remained on the twelfth man, and his on hers. He was the kind of good looking that only existed in the movies. His honey colored hair was slicked and styled and he was dressed in a suit so well fitted it couldn’t possibly not be custom tailored specifically for his body. There was the slightest hint of a five o’clock shadow that only made him more handsome. But it was his eyes that took Natalie by the most surprise. They had the quality of being slightly too big for his face, and across the distance of the chandelier-lit room they were a deep shade of blue or green, the kind of which you didn’t see in faces everyday.
The way he stared at her without a hint of hesitation made her breathing quicken in her chest. His gaze was almost predatory and certainly unapologetic. She had the sense that he was considering her in a way no other man was considering any other woman in that room.
The disembodied voice continued. “During this viewing session you may look at but not touch the Candidates. If you’d like to see more of any specific Candidate before making your bid please input your request in the menu screen and a Concierge will assist you immediately.”
What did that mean? For the first time since entering the room Natalie broke eye contact with the twelfth man and noticed that he and the others all held small tablets. She wasn’t entirely wrong about being part of a buffet, for they certainly looked like they were ordering from a menu.
A few men began to tap and swipe on their tablets, and after a moment a man dressed identically to the Concierge entered the room and approached a brunette three away from Natalie.
“Candidate Number Seven, please turn to your left. Slowly,” came the disembodied voice, whom Natalie began to refer to in her mind as The Announcer. The brunette did as instructed and turned to her left, and from the corner of her eye Natalie could see the girl was visibly pleased.
What else would the Gentleman request of them? How far were they allowed to go? She understood the inherent possibility of sexual contact, but assumed that would happen only after they were bid on, if at all. Quinn never mentioned anything about a viewing session.
“Candidate Number One, please turn your back to the Gentlemen.” The woman to Natalie’s left silently obeyed, and on and on it went, The Announcer asking various candidates to turn or pose or, in the case of one candidate in specific, to crouch down and sit on her knees and simulate fellatio.
By her estimation every woman in the room was called upon. Her number however, number four, was never called.
Her stomach began to knot. What was the likelihood of someone
not
bidding on her? Would she be asked to leave? Twelve women for twelve men, but what if no one wanted her? Her eyes drifted again to the twelfth man, and her skin prickled when she realized he was still staring at her. He held the tablet in one hand, his other hand sat relaxed on his thigh. Would he make any requests of her? Or any other candidate?
“Candidate Number Four, please put your arms above your head.”
Number Four, that’s me
, she thought to herself, her stomach a storm of nervousness. It wasn’t the twelfth man’s request; he hadn’t made any movements on his tablet. The man blinked and it seemed to change his stare, alter what he was thinking. The Concierge walked to Natalie and, sliding between her and the Candidate to her left, stood behind her. He tapped her shoulder once and she suddenly remembered she had been instructed to act.
She swallowed back a lump in her throat. As she raised her arms above her head she felt the slight sensation of her dress rising up towards her thighs, black lace over creamy white skin. Her wrists joined and she held them there above her head. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, and she couldn’t place whether her excitement was just nerves or something else. A man sitting in the middle of the lineup nodded, but she didn’t know if it was in appreciation of her or something else. He, like the other men in the room, like the twelfth man, watched with silent appreciation, taking from Natalie and the other eleven with their eyes.
The twelfth man watched her carefully, though his interest in her seemed to change with a simple look. His tablet remained untouched while his free hand stroked thoughtfully at his chin. She wanted to squirm beneath his careful watch, to relieve the tension he stirred in her with just a look.
“Candidate Number Four, please sit on your knees on the floor.”
Natalie’s heart was racing. The Concierge tapped her shoulder again and she took it as a sign she was free to put her arms down. She did, and then crouched down until her knees touched the carpeted floor, her arms hanging free at her side.
“Concierge, please bind Candidate Number Four’s hands behind her back.”
What?
She blinked.
Bind my hands with what?
Without preamble the Concierge took possession of her hands, moving her arms to her back and holding them there with his own. She arched to accommodate the position, but before she could find any comfort The Announcer announced, “Candidate Number Four, please spread your legs shoulder-width apart and open your mouth.”
God, jeez…
How long would the humiliation continue?
She swallowed but did as instructed, moving her knees across the soft floor until they were the requested length apart, her heart beating so fast it seemed to echo against her ribs. She didn’t know where to look or even which men were making requests of her, so she looked over their heads, imagining a wall somewhere in the darkness behind them. Her lips parted and slowly she opened her mouth.
Don’t think about it. Just don’t associate it with anything and you’ll get through it
.
She stayed like that, on her knees with her legs spread apart, arms bound behind her, mouth open, for what seemed like the longest moment of her life. Finally the Concierge let go and tapped her shoulder, and she took it as a sign to right herself. She stood to her feet and recomposed herself, not willing to look to see who had been watching her, or if anyone else still was. It felt like the whole room had been watching her. The sensible part of her brain was chiding her for what she was doing; coming to an unknown location to be bought for a night of sex. But there was something thrilling about it, despite the fear of the unknown. Quinn made it sound like the greatest thing ever, like it wasn’t prostitution but a blind date of the most extreme kind.
That just so happens to end with me getting paid. God. Don’t think of it as prostitution
, she chanted in her mind.
Think of it as a new experience. Think of it as less to pay in student loans. It’s a one-night stand and I can pretend I won the lottery. Or something.
“Gentleman the viewing session will conclude shortly. Please make any final requests and begin to consider your bids.”
Natalie swallowed back another lump; she seemed to have an endless supply of them. She kept her eyes on the back of the room on the imaginary wall, hoping that whichever Gentleman picked her he was one of the rare ones who just wanted her time.
Don’t be so naïve. You know full well sex is expected
. She’d never once had a one-night stand, or sex with a stranger of any kind.
It’s just sex
, she reminded herself.
Consenting adults can have sex whenever they wish
.
“Gentlemen the viewing session has concluded. Please proceed with your bids.”
That was it? She stole a final glance to the twelfth man who, for the first time that evening did not have his eyes on her but on his tablet, his finger hovering over it in mid-air.
Whatever happens, happens. It’s a one-night stand and tomorrow you can go home and never think about it again
. She tried to remember Quinn’s explanation of how she would get paid and how much, but she was three martinis deep into the conversation and so enamored with the idea of making money without taking a second job (or selling any organs) that she’d agreed to do it. It all depended on the man bidding on her; a percentage went to the club or society, or whatever it was the men were in, and the remainder was for the girl and her time.
For the pleasure of her company
, Quinn had charmingly reminded her some time after the fourth cocktail.
‘What was the most you ever made?’
Natalie had boldly asked through the haze of too much vodka.
‘Twenty thousand.’
The first sip of Natalie’s fourth martini came spraying out of her mouth like a sloppy geyser, but Quinn merely laughed it off.
‘He was very rich and
very
particular. I usually come home with seven, maybe ten thousand if I’m lucky. It all depends on the man who does the bidding.’
“Let the first round begin. Gentleman when your winning Candidate is formally announced please collect her and allow a Concierge to escort you to your designated room. Candidates are free to leave when you give them permission in the form of their payment envelope, but we ask you keep them no later than noon tomorrow.”
Natalie wondered if she had the right to be offended about being referred to as an object after subjecting herself to requests for her to be bound and open-mouthed. Quinn explained — and Natalie understood — that it was all part of the allure and seduction of the club, but she couldn’t totally suppress every logical part of her brain, even if for one night only.
“First, the unchallenged bids.”
‘If there are no competing bids for you, you leave the room first,’
Quinn explained.
‘What if no one bids on me?’
Quinn shook her head, her cocktail spilling over the side of the glass and unnoticed onto her hand.
‘Doesn’t really happen. Okay, I’ve seen it happen once but who knows why? Maybe there was one man who didn’t see anything he liked enough to buy?’
“Candidate Number Five has an unchallenged bid from Gentleman Two.”
A Concierge took the girl standing to Natalie’s right and led her to her bidder, escorting the both of them out of the room. They never touched once. How soon after they entered their assigned room would they touch? Does she make the first move? Would
she
have to make the first move on whoever bid for her, if anyone did?
Six more girls were matched with their bidders and escorted from the room with six Concierges. There were just five of them and five of the Gentleman, the twelfth man among them.
‘If there are multiple bids on a girl the bidders are allowed to bid again, either bidding more money or changing their bid to another.’
‘Then what?’
Natalie asked.
‘The highest bidder wins. They aren’t too keen on auctioning you off all night. They are there to spend time with you, not waste time fighting over who gets to have you. I understand it’s very common for a bidder to make backup bids if they favor more than one girl.’
‘If they can change their votes then someone could get left out.’
She was terrified of the prospect of not being picked. It’s one thing to be rejected in real life, but this just seemed too deep, too unnecessarily humiliating.
‘Nuh-uh, like I said, it’s rare for someone to not get a bidder. Usually if a bidder can’t get the girl he wants he’ll settle for another. He gets his needs met either way so what does he care?’
“Gentlemen, if you please,” The Announcer continued. “Candidate Number Two has two bids. Candidate Number Four has three bids. Candidate Number Seven has two bids. Candidate Number Eight has two bids. Candidate Number Ten has two bids.”
Three!
Her eyes swept across the five remaining bidders; three of them wanted her. She looked to the twelfth man last and found him seemingly unworried and at ease in his chair, his eyes cast down at his feet. She could have been mistaken due to the light of the chandelier, but he appeared to have a smile on his face.
“Gentleman please make your final primary bids, and if you wish a secondary bid. The highest bid will win the Candidate.”
The twelfth man lazily swiped his finger across his tablet. Natalie wondered what the bidding screen looked like, and if it was similar to merely scanning an item at the grocery store. In that sense she really was nothing more than an object up for sale, only her price was to be determined by a total stranger.
When he finished he set the tablet down across the plane of his right leg crossed over the left, and maintained his cool passivity. For all she knew he hadn’t once requested anything of any candidate and was merely content to sit back and watch as all the other Gentlemen did his work for him.
Natalie’s heart began to race again when the last man put down his tablet, a sign that the second round of bidding was over. This was it. The Announcer would call them each by number and pair them with the man who made the highest bid, they would be escorted to a room and the evening would truly begin.
“Thank your for your bids, Gentlemen. You’ve outdone yourselves tonight, and we wish you a good evening with your winnings. Candidate Number Two has a high bid from Gentleman Ten.”
Natalie breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth, and watched a Concierge escort the two from the room.
“Candidate Number Four has a high bid-“
Natalie closed her eyes.
Please be Twelve. Please be Twelve.
“-from Gentleman Twelve.”