Joshua is head of security, and occasionally, he positions himself at the front. He was also a co-owner at one point. With more time spent on his family, he’s delegated more and more. It’s yet another sign of things changing.
I nod, my decision made. “Remove Mr. Astor’s access from the systems,” I tell Holden quietly. “His membership has been revoked for the time being. I’ll message him this evening to inform him of the change and what’s required for future entry.”
Holden nods, not questioning my decision. His acquiescence is another good trait. Any questions he ever has of my decisions, he saves for the privacy of our meetings in my office. Not once has he ever let a doubt slip from his mouth while in front of other members of Club X.
Holden leaves, and I gather myself a drink at the bar, checking in with the waitress and all those in attendance before tending to what must be done.
Tonight there will be an auction, and for auctions, the preparations must be impeccable. First I find Britta, not far from the bar. She’s responsible for the women who will be offered tonight. “How are they?” I ask as I pace the auction room, checking the tables and every detail. They all gleam mellowly in the lighting, which will be softer when it’s time to begin.
The stage will be the center of attention.
“Most of the girls are well prepared, Madam,” Britta says, handing me an example of the gold-foiled ‘menu’ that will be offered to our bidders tonight. “But our new girl, Chelsea...” There’s hesitance in her tone as she adds, “She’s nervous.”
I nod, recalling the name. Chelsea is like many of our other submissive women, an invitee who doesn’t know quite who she is yet. This is her first auction, her first few days in Club X.
I expected Chelsea’s nervousness. However, the fact that she’s here so early tells me something, and I give Britta a curt nod. “Have her come see me. It’s still a few hours before we open the lounge to our bidders.”
Britta disappears, and I tend to the glass of rosé Becca hands me. I must have done this over a hundred times now. And it always weighs heavily. I have to be certain. More certain than the women are who walk across that stage. A moment passes before a gorgeous woman with almost innocent features and a figure that would crudely be described as ‘thick’ comes out. Her fingers tremble as she approaches me. She fiddles with them by her sides before playing with the hem of her sleeves. “Madam Lynn,” she says, dipping her chin in deference. She’s new, but she has all the instincts of a submissive inside her already. “Miss Britta said you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yes, I wanted to see how you’re feeling,” I tell her, looking her over with a professional smile. Either she’s got an exquisite eye or perhaps Britta assisted her in picking out the dress that she’s wearing, a subtly shaped storm-gray piece made of almostdiaphanous lace that reveals her generous breasts. The gray against her beautiful brown skin is perfectly complementary.
She’s slightly soft in the tummy area, and her curves add to her gorgeousness. I know that to the discerning Dom, she’s going to be his every wish fulfilled. With her long black hair pulled back into a simple ponytail, she’s elegant and refined.
“I’m... not sure,” Chelsea says honestly, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of long, black hair behind her ear. “I’m just ... nervous.”
“That’s to be expected.” I take a moment to watch her reaction as I sip the wine and then ask, “Nervous about the bids or nervous about what comes after?”
“Both,” she answers breathily, blushing slightly.
“Do you understand how things are going to run?” I offer.
She nods again, but it’s a rhetorical question. I do this every time with new women, and even seasoned submissives, because I want to always be sure that they’ve been told the rules.
“I’m just...” She swallows thickly, her gaze everywhere but on me as she struggles to tell me what’s on her mind. I can already guess it, though, the insecurity of being bid on. The fear of what comes after. I can practically hear her heart running away.
With a kind tone, I reassure her. “Chelsea, they will want you, trust me on that.”
“You... you think so?” she asks shyly, fingering her rubber membership bracelet. “My friend said so, but I thought she was just being nice. I mean, I’m—”
“None of that, honey,” I chide her softly. “And yes, I’m sure. Now tonight, you will be on stage alone, displayed one by one for our bidders. The auction will start at five hundred thousand dollars, and bids go up by a hundred grand a bid.” Chelsea squirms, and I lay a hand on her shoulder. “Chelsea, look at me.”
She does, biting her lip. “Madam Lynn, I’m—”
“Going to start a bidding war tonight and change your life in the process,” I assure her. “And the terms are set by you.” My gaze falls to the band she wears on her wrist. Red for pain.
“A red rose still?” I question, although I’m all too sure of her preferences. It’s why she was selected. There’s a demand for submissives like her, and with this contract, she’ll experience pleasure like she’s never imagined.
Chelsea nods, her gaze firmly matched with mine this time. “I want pain.”
“You’ll be holding a red rose to tell the bidders that is your preferred style of play.”
She nods again. “I’ve asked previous boyfriends to go harder, to... to spank me. It feels good, but I want more... like what happens in the dungeon.”
“I know, love,” I assure her, smiling again. “Have you seen the pamphlet? Your specific requests and no-go areas we’ve gone over are laid out in the pamphlet that the buyers will get when they come in. They’re also in the contract, and we’ll go over it line by line. When it’s time to sign, that’s the time to make any changes or clarify any points. Your hard limits will be written into the contract.”
“I know,” she tells me quietly. "I’ve seen it and thought about it nonstop.”
“And you know there will be an NDA, and it is iron-clad, and any violation will be dealt with?”