Page 43 of Stay Toxic

Honestly, I should have had her sign an NDA to come here in the first place, but it’s Hestia Cole. She’s not going to say a word of anything she sees to anyone. She’s a fiercely private person, because anything she does not approved by her puppet master could result in punishments. I don’t have the details on what that monster did to her, but I have people looking into it. I can’t decide what to do about Loretta Cole until I know exactly what I’m punishing her for. It’s pretty clear Hestia won’t tell me, but there are other ways to find out.

“You’re not on your phone,” Hestia notes.

I shoot her my most charming smile. “It’s never been my kink.”

At least, it didn’t use to be. The idea of purchasing one of the girls from the club for a night doesn’t appeal to me, but if Hestia was an option, I’d blow through my fucking inheritance to get her pliant, obedient, at my mercy.

My cock twitches. I’ve had a semi from the moment I saw her in this fucking dress, hardening every time I touch her skin, smell her scent, or look into those impossibly gorgeous green eyes. By now it’s a fucking steel rod.

“Kink? How are auctions a—” She stops speaking, her eyes widening. “Oh.”

I smirk at her, watching her wordlessly, daring her to ask.

“So, what, you have NDA paperwork at the ready?” she challenges.

I have to say, I’m surprised. “As it so happens, I do.”

There’s an interface on the Heritage app for that. I retrieve my phone and search through the club files until I find it, handing it to her.

I watch her read through the screen, paying attention to every line, a little frown of concentration between her brows. When she reaches the bottom, she clicks on the box to add her digital signature.

I didn’t see tonight going like this, but I can’t say I’m displeased. Though there’s a risk to throwing her into the deep end this soon. She could run away, screaming. But then again, she’s the girl who walked into a threesome and stayed to watch for a good long while.

And for what it’s worth, Ari was right a few days ago. Iamme. If she truly can’t handle what that entails, I should know now, before I’m in too deep.

She hands me my phone back and her lip curls as she lifts her chin proudly. “Well? What’s the second auction, then?”

My heart and my cock pulse as one.

Who the fuck am I kidding? It’s already far too late, for her and for me. She’s planted her claws under my skin, irreversibly. I can give her some time to get used to the idea if I must, but the simple fact isshe’s mine.She could find the club disgraceful, deviant, depraved, and hate it, and I’d still take her.

I scroll through the app again and open the correct tab, before handing it back to her, my eyes fixed on her.

She’s not sure at what she’s looking at, at first. Then her mouth falls, her eyes wide as her gaze cuts to mine. “Is thatAri?”

I glance down. “Oh, yes. She usually fetches a pretty penny. Seventy thousand and counting. The youth of southie is definitely getting that gym, don’t you think?”

“What—” She swallows. “Is she…”

I relish the way her cheeks turn bright pink. She knows exactly what’s going on. “Selling her pretty cunt? Yes. And her mouth. And likely, her ass. You can check the details if you click…”

I demonstrate, pressing on the candid shot of Ari in her bright red dress, taken tonight so potential bidders know exactly what they’re getting.

The intro is short and to the point:Ari agreed to one night of submission. Safe word applicable. Hard limits below. Ari will keep one tenth of the auction.Age limits: 18 to 49.

Her list of hard limits is short and sweet—she’s not into scat or breath play, almost anything else goes.

“One tenth is the minimum,” I tell Hestia, lest she questions Ari’s integrity. “She can’t keep less.”

“But it’s…she…I mean—” She’s at a loss, and no wonder.

“She quite likes it. Now that you’ve signed, you can ask her any questions you might have.” After a thought, I add, “Tomorrow. She’ll be rather busy after the auction.”

Hestia takes my phone again, and scrolls through the various auctions happening right now; seven women and three men, as young as eighteen, as old as thirty-five. The lowest bid is twelve thousand, but they have another ten minutes or so to go. The most serious contenders tend to only show up toward the end.

Hestia’s relentlessly clicking through each one, reading everything.

“You see anything you want to buy?” I tease.