Prized, The Payment Series book 1 (4 page)

The next in line was Pat and, with a smile,
he shoved inside. Unlike the other man, Pat leaned forward and
grabbed her breasts, taking a firm hold on them. He fumbled for a
bit and got her shirt unbuttoned. One of the other men
oh-so-helpfully pulled the cups of her bra down, and Pat grabbed
her nipples, twisting cruelly. Catrina had long since learned not
to protest anything done to her, especially after Raoul pointed out
that she’d better get used to it, as the men she’d be servicing
wouldn’t always play strictly by the rules, whatever the hell that
meant.

The flogging increased in tempo and
intensity and Catrina whimpered. Pat pulled on her nipples and she
tightened around him. His hold eased and then tightened once more
when her mouth went slack, forcing her to arch her back, which
changed the angle of her head and allowed Pat to push right into
her throat. She’d gotten better with the gag reflex, but if he
stayed there she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it. And then
what?

Luckily she didn’t have to find out, since
shortly after, muttering swear words, Pat pulled back out until
only the head of his dick remained in her mouth. His legs locked
and cum streamed from the head of his cock, filling the roof of her
mouth until she managed to catch up and start swallowing. Her pussy
and hole felt on fire and she dreaded more of this, but the third
man hadn’t even started.

Pat pulled out of her mouth and the third
man moved in front of Catrina, feeding his dick into her mouth inch
by inch. Catrina heard Raoul say “Spread her” and suddenly hands
were pulling her ass cheeks even further apart. She screamed as
previously unpunished, untouched skin was burned by the flogger,
and began to furiously suck this third man’s cock. She needed him
to come. Now.

But it wasn’t to be. To her chagrin, and at
the limit of her pain threshold, he finally pulled out and jerked
his dick the rest of the way as Raoul furiously whipped her,
concentrating solely on that tortured hole. Her cheeks were still
being spread and she had a feeling the residual effects of this
whipping would be felt for days. The man pushed her mouth further
open with one hand and pumped with the other. Cum started to
dribble out of his slit and he shook it into her mouth.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Catrina
registered that Raoul had stopped whipping her, but her eyes were
completely clogged by tears. Her face was a mess in general, but,
by that time, she was far beyond caring. She just wanted this over
with. If Raoul had told her a couple of minutes ago she’d need to
suck off an entire football team to make the whipping stop, she
would’ve gladly lined them up. What did that say about her?

The other men left and Raoul handed her the
entire box of tissues. “Clean up and then kneel in front of the
couch.”

She also knew better than to rebutton her
shirt, so she simply wiped down her face and hair as best she
could, throwing the used tissues into a bin Raoul so helpfully
provided.

Catrina winced, unable to stop a wail of
pain when she knelt. His face without expression, Raoul sat and
regarded her.

“How did knowing your asshole, your most
private part, was on display and being whipped make you feel? How
about knowing it wouldn’t end until you did as I told you?”

After taking a couple of deep breaths, she
said, “I hated it. No one’s ever touched me there. I feel like it’s
dirty and gross and not something anyone else should be seeing,
much less doing anything to.”

“And yet your benefactor will fuck your ass.
Most likely often. His friends will. Total strangers will.” Catrina
made a face and he continued, undaunted, “I bet you felt pretty
vulnerable.”

“Yes, sir. Very.”

“And helpless.”

“Yes.”

“And I’m guessing during that whipping you
felt the most submissive you have since you started training.”

“Yes.”

“You would have done just about anything I’d
demanded in order to make me stop.”

Turning her gaze to the carpet in front of
her, she answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Look at me.” Reluctantly she raised her
head. She hated that he made her do that, but knew why. He wanted
her focused on exactly what was going on. “I’m aware that by now
you hate me, especially after I did something like that to you. But
there’s a reason for everything I do. I’m really trying to prepare
you for some of the things you might experience during your term of
service.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.
“You’re aware that your benefactor won’t need a reason to punish
you, correct?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“He can also let anyone else to punish you
in any way he allows. Just as a for instance, there might be a time
when your benefactor takes you to a party, strips you naked, and
lets two men take belts to your ass at the same time until it’s
crimson. One cheek per man, until you’re screaming for mercy, which
you may or may not get. And why? Because that’s what your
benefactor wanted. You didn’t do anything wrong, anything to
deserve a brutal double-strapping, but you’ll get one. Do you
understand what I’m saying? I don’t punish you to get my
jollies.”

Catrina couldn’t hold in the snort and Raoul
raised one eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Looks like you need some time on my cock.”
She sighed. It was his favorite trick when he thought she wasn’t
being respectful. He’d put his dick in her mouth, oftentimes when
he wasn’t even hard, and then make her kneel there while he did
paperwork, flipped through a magazine, or simply stared down at
her. Somehow she knew it was something her benefactor may be likely
to do as well. “Anyway, I really don’t do these things just to be
mean or for no reason. I have a purpose for everything I do. Unlike
your benefactor and all the other people you’ll encounter while you
service your debt.”

“I understand that now.”

“Back to your asshole being whipped.”

Do we have to? It hurts like fucking hell
and talking about it doesn’t exactly help me forget that.

“Yes, sir?”

“The reason benefactors will pay extra is to
be the first one to take you in that most private, personally
intrusive way. They’re not all sadists, but many of the men who are
willing to pay the price you’re requesting also relish the
opportunity to be the first cock reaming the hole of a naughty,
naughty girl like you. Oftentimes they’ll invite friends over to
watch. If you’re lucky they’ll stretch you first or use lube or
both. If you’re not…” He left the rest of the sentence unsaid, and
Catrina’s stomach turned.

“Ow.”

For once, Raoul’s eyes were soft and Catrina
almost lost it right then and there. In some ways it was easier to
abhor him. And, by all accounts, given that he’d just whipped her
while forcing her to suck cocks of men she didn’t even know, she
should hate him. The fact that she didn’t truly disturbed her. Yes,
it was good to know he wasn’t just punishing her to get his rocks
off, but the punishments seemed easier to take when she’d thought
he was a sadistic bastard. And maybe he was, but she wasn’t sure,
and that confused the hell out of her.

He leaned back once more. “The benefactors
know they can’t inflict any lasting damage. As we discussed, you’ll
be seen by our doctor every month when you come in for your tests,
and if he sees anything he doesn’t deem as part of the benefactor’s
rights in your service to him, the doctor will report it and the
benefactor will be fined. That money will be kept in trust and
given to you at the end of your term.”

Catrina was overwhelmed, getting moreso
every day, and her emotions had been running on high for so long
that, all at once, the house of cards her brain had become came
crashing down. A huge sob broke free and she collapsed,
hyperventilating. Raoul sprang into action, grabbing a paper
bag—where the hell had that come from?—and placing it over her
mouth, urging her to breathe. He’d picked her up and was now
cradling her in his strong arms. It was the first time she’d felt
safe and at peace in weeks, maybe months. And she hated him even
less.

The day of the auction came, and Catrina was
given a haircut, bikini wax, manicure, and pedicure. She could see
the morbid humor in the fact she was getting prettied up to be
auctioned off as a sex slave to some dude for a year, but it didn’t
stop her from berating herself for getting into this position in
the first place.

Before all this happened she’d made sure to
keep up a strict beauty regimen of monthly cuts, colors, massages,
facials, manicures, pedicures, waxes—the works. God only knew how
much she’d spent on treatments in the past couple of years, as her
finances spun out of control, and yet she hadn’t even considered
stopping them or even decreasing their frequency. What an idiot
she’d been.

When she returned to DMA, Raoul stripped her
completely and then gave her directions.

“There are about thirty-five men here. A
very good turnout, really. Ten girls are being auctioned today.”
Catrina’s mouth fell open and Raoul said, “Surprised there are that
many? You actually came to us at the perfect time. We only hold
these presentation events,”
What a nice term for it,
“once a
month, so some of the girls have been waiting.”

“Are there always this many?”

“No, not often. Sometimes there are more,
but we average four to six each month.”

“Wow. I guess I’m not the only one with a
spending problem.”

“Unfortunately, no, you’re not. Anyway, I’ll
bring you in there and we’ll walk amongst the men. They are allowed
to touch, but that’s it. If they have a question they will direct
it to me. You will not speak. Once the auction is about to begin
we’ll go up on stage and I’ll remain with you. When it’s your turn,
I will display you, to what I think is your best advantage, while
the emcee explains the particulars about your debt load and term of
service, and the auctioning for you will begin. You will keep your
head down at all times once we enter the room, unless given other
instructions. With me so far?”

“Yes, sir.” The surreal quality of this
entire situation hit her and she took a deep breath in and blew it
back out. She
had
to do this. She
had
to let some
stranger essentially buy her for an entire year. There was no other
way to get herself out of the mess she’d created. Her eviction had
come through and she’d actually been forced to spend the past
couple of days with Meghan, who was the only person who knew what
was actually happening.

Most of her friends and family thought she
had gotten a new position as a personal assistant to an executive
and wouldn’t be around much, since he was so demanding of her time.
They’d been surprised when she’d told them she’d be living with the
man, and though some way-too-close-to-the-mark comments had been
made Catrina had ignored them, fearing breaking the confidentiality
agreement she’d signed as part of the contract with DMA.

And isn’t what they said the truth in a
sick, twisted way?

Raoul went on. “Once a price has been agreed
upon, your new benefactor will come up on stage to claim you from
me and then you’ll be sent back here to gather your things. You’ll
stand in the corner, still naked, until your benefactor meets you
here. He will decide what you’ll be allowed to wear home. Do you
understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then let’s go. I’m attaching a belt
with a leash to your midsection. That may seem demeaning, but it’s
actually for your protection, because it ensures I’m never more
than three feet from you.”

“O-okay.”

“Remember, you do not talk. Some of the men
may try to get you to, so they can test your obedience. If that
happens I will deal with it.” He fastened the contraption around
her waist and took hold of the end. “Ready?”

“If I have to be.”

He led her to the end of the building and a
room she’d never seen before. As Raoul had said, about three dozen
men milled around. A few girls were already there, presumably with
their trainers, and a general air of anticipation floated through
the room. When she entered with Raoul, several of the men looked
over.

“Eyes down.” Raoul reminded her, leading her
toward a group of men standing around a bar-height table.
“Gentlemen, this is number nine.” It was then that Catrina noticed
there was a nine button attached to her belt.
That’s all I am to
these men, a number; a potential purchase.

She fought tears. Some reached out and
grasped her breasts or played with her nipples as others ran their
hands along her ass. A few even dipped into her crack and tapped or
massaged her hole. Out of the corner of her eye, Catrina saw a
line-up card sitting on each table, which appeared to contain the
vital stats on each woman being put on auction today.

Raoul efficiently moved Catrina through all
the groups of men and she was repeatedly groped and fondled. She
did her best not to flinch away. After all, for the next year
dozens upon dozens of men would be doing similar things, and she
could imagine her benefactor not being pleased if she appeared
revolted. The one time she couldn’t control her reaction—to a large
man with sausage fingers who practically drilled into her bottom
hole—Raoul reached back and slapped her inner thigh, hard. The man
remarked, “Her skin colors nicely.” Catrina wondered if that would
help her get the price she needed. Probably. Then she prayed this
particular man wouldn’t have the funds to buy her debt. She wasn’t
sure she would make it through a year of having to live with and
service him.

The emcee announced the presentation would
begin soon and Raoul brought her up on stage, putting her in the
correct place. Apparently number nine meant she’d be the ninth
woman auctioned. As she waited for her turn, Catrina began to
regret the breakfast she’d eaten that morning and hoped she’d be
able to keep it down. No doubt it wouldn’t impress these men if she
puked all over the stage.