Buy Me (Mistress Auctions #1)(19)

It seemed like they knew my own body better than even I did. When I would try to find relief at my own hand, I would always be left frustrated or unsatisfied by the orgasm I pulled from my body. They seemed to be able to get me there in seconds and give me an orgasm more powerful than I thought was possible. I’d always wondered what all the talk was about. Now I know.

Peeling myself from the bed, I make my way to the bathroom, but stop when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Turning, I look at myself. For some reason I look different, or maybe it’s because I feel a little different. The Las Vegas sun pours through the windows, lighting up the entire room, and I just stand and stare at myself for a moment.

My long black hair looks wild and untamed, my lips swollen, even my nipples have little marks on them like they have been well used. I feel sexy. Like a part of me I didn’t know existed has woken up. Before I felt like my hips were too wide, my boobs too big. Now, looking at myself, I feel womanly. Something I’d never felt before. I feel desired. Sure I’d been hit on, but I never felt a compulsion to really explore. Now I want more. I can still feel their wetness and mine mixed together between my legs, dampening my thighs.

Maybe the next month won’t be as hard as I first thought it would be. If the Cortez brothers make me feel like that every morning this will probably be the best thirty days of my life. If I can keep my heart out of it.

That would be the real challenge. I already care more than I should. I was holding on too tightly when Justin had told me no other women had slept in their bed, and that the clothes were just for me.

Going to the bathroom, I can’t help but notice the set up. I’ve never in my life seen a three person sink. I can tell the middle one is for me. A pink toothbrush and hair brush sit next to it, the toothbrush still in the wrapping. Pulling my hair on top of my head, I jump into a shower that looks like it could fit ten of me. Normally I love to take baths, but the one in here looks like it might take forever to fill because of its giant size. It takes me a few moments to figure out all the knobs and buttons before I finally get the shower heads to come on.

I don’t know when this Mandy will be getting here so I make quick work of my shower and end up just doing my hair in a simple braid so I don’t have to worry about it.

I make my way to the closet that is bigger than my bedroom back home on the farm. Hell, this might even be bigger than the master bedroom. Half of the room is lined with suits, Justin’s and Aaron’s. It’s simple and clean. The other half of the room is lined with…my stuff, I guess. Part of it is lined with clothes—dresses, jeans, t-shirts, and nice dressy tops. When I start going through them, I notice everything is in my size. The other part of the room is lined with glass shelves stacked with shoes of all varieties, tons of purses to match all the clothes, and pieces of jewelry hang on little stands that are scattered on the glass shelves.

What. The. Fuck.

There are hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes and accessories for me in here. I would have to change my outfit ten times a day to wear everything in the thirty days I am set to be here. To top it off, how did they know I was going to be here? Were they looking for a type and I just fit it? Did they go into the auction knowing they wanted a certain kind of woman and I just fit the bill? It made sense if that was so. They had been trying to get me to go out with them for weeks. They say men have a type. Or did they know I would be here?

I’m not sure how I feel about that. Vegas is a small big city. All the important players know each other, and the Mistress Auctions are for the elite. I have no clue who else was being auctioned or the details of how the auctions work. For all I know, Samantha sends out a portfolio before each auction and maybe they had seen me on it and thought it was their chance to finally get what they had been wanting.

I’m not sure if I should be mad or grateful. I’m thinking I’ll go with grateful, even though I kind of want to smack them a little. Men like them always get what they want. Another part of why I turned them down. I didn’t just want to be a notch on their belt, even though I had wanted them. At least I was bought by someone I kind of knew. Who knows what I could have ended up with? And now I get a taste of what I had really wanted every time they asked me to dinner and I said no.

Making my way over to the giant island in the middle of the room, I start pulling open drawers. Each one is filled with bras, underwear (if you can even call it that) and lingerie. Picking up a soft blue bra, I read the tag, 32DD. How the hell did they know that? I almost want to laugh. It’s like they snuck into my room and searched my drawers to get all the right sizes, but maybe they just paid attention to details. You don’t own a casino like the Cortez without noticing details

Slipping the bra on, I find the matching panties and slide them on. I’ve never worn a thong in my life. How am I supposed to walk around all day with a piece of string up my ass? Having said that, I also don’t think I’ve felt such soft material against my skin before.

I notice a blue sundress lying on the ottoman in the corner of the closet, with a note placed on top of it.

We thought this would look perfect on you.

Does that mean I’m supposed to wear it? I know I’m to follow all their orders as long as it doesn’t cause me harm or put me in danger. That is what the mistress contract had stated. It’s not something I’d normally wear. I slide it over my head. It takes a little pull to get it over my breasts, but once there it fits perfectly.