“Very pretty,” one of them says. “Five million, did you say?” Isaac nods. “Hmm. Was she so good that she killed him?”
They all start laughing together like this is some big fucking joke. I want to laugh too at the craziness of it all, but no sound comes out. Again, I don’t care.
“You never know,” Isaac replies. “I believe it actually was a heart attack.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
More hands are on me. I can feel some big, some small, some hot, some cold. All of them are exploring my body. All of them breathing heavily as they do. My head lulls back again, and I close my eyes. I don’t want to shut down, but I’m fighting a losing battle. I can feel every pinch, every grope, and every glide of their hands on my skin. One hand, two hands, three hands, and then it feels like a dozen of them feeling their way around. At one point, I think I feel a tongue on my nipple, followed by a quick nip. Again, I don’t care. I suppose that’s what the drugs are for. I’m just how these men want me. Compliant. Quiet.
Sit still, look pretty.
“Stunning,” one of them says breathlessly.
“Isn’t she?” Isaac asks proudly. You would think I was a prized possession the way I’m being treated, touched, and looked at.
“Would you gentlemen like to take your seats for the bidding?” He motions for the men to go back to their chairs, and in a fuzzy haze, I watch them walk back to their seats.
Once settled, the door is shut again, and Isaac addresses them all. “Now, let’s start the bidding at two hundred thousand.” Immediately, all the men put their hands up and Isaac acknowledges. “Okay, now three. Who will give me three?” A few hands go up again. “Okay, let’s make this a little easier on everyone. “Who will go for five?” Three men put their hands up. This goes on and on until it reaches seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds.
“Sold to Mr Thomas!” I hear Isaac shout. “Mr Thomas, you have all night with the young lady. To the rest of you gentlemen, I bid you a good night.”
I must pass out at that point because I don’t remember them leaving, and I don’t remember this Mr Thomas being in the room with me. When I try to focus, I find I’m still tied up like before, but Isaac isn’t here. It’s just me and this strange, overweight middle-aged gentleman in a navy suit. I watch as he comes closer to me, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie as he does. Once in front of me, he lifts my head up and forces his rancid tongue down my throat. He moans, grabbing my nipple and squeezing it hard. Again, I don’t care. Again, I take it. Again, I say nothing.
“I’m going to want you on a bed, but I couldn’t resist fucking you tied up here first. I want to feel your long legs wrapped around me as I bury my cock inside you.” He plunges a finger inside of me. “Hot, tight little cunt. I can’t wait to get in balls deep.”
With some fight coming back, I manage to lift my head away from him in defiance. I don’t look at him. I know that if I do, he’ll disgust me. I can feel him, though. I can feel his hands all over my skin. On me. Squeezing me. Inside me. I can hear him as he moans and breathes his hot breath against my neck.
“I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fuck you now.”
I hear the zipper of his trousers and feel when he pulls my legs up to position me in the right spot. It’s only when I feel something push at my entrance that I suddenly find the strength.
“Drake,” I whisper.
I feel him stiffen. “What?”
“I’m Drake’s.” I manage to look him in the eye and see him swallow hard. It would make me smile if I could muster one.
“Drake who?”
“Salvatore’s wife.”
Within an instant, he’s off me, pulling up his zipper. He looks like a frightened lamb about to be slaughtered. Again, I want to smile but I can’t.
“You’re … You’re Drake Salvatore’s wife? You’re Evelyn?”
This time, I manage a smirk. “Yes, and he’s going to kill you,” I sing. I throw my head back, and suddenly find my laughter. Man, whatever drugs he’s given me are making me all kinds of fucked up.
This makes him flee. He’s across the room and banging on the door quicker than a tramp on chips. He starts frantically banging on the door before someone answers. “I demand to see Isaac,” he bellows. Soon after, Isaac is inside the room. He looks at me and then back at Mr Thomas. “What is the trouble?”
He points to me. “The trouble is that you lied to us. Her master isn’t dead because this is Evelyn, Drake’s wife. If I had known this, I would never have bid on her.”