The noise emanating from the ballroom is a powerful mix of enthusiastic chatter and bitchy whispers which I can hear before even entering. Arriving in the doorway, Avery hesitates and yanks me back a few steps. The smartly dressed teens around us take no notice, pushing past to ascend on the room of excitable women. Hands paw over them as they move through, the bidders eager to feel the goods before the auction begins. I flick my eyes to Avery’s, pulling her to the back wall of the corridor and bending to speak into her ear.
“If you’ve changed your mind, we can- “
“It’s not that,” she breathes against my neck. “I promised Axel I would never enter the ballroom. It seemed important to him…” her voice trails off, her gaze flicking back to the brightly lit room. Being head and shoulders above everyone else, I’m able to see the open set of French doors at the rear leading out onto an equally as packed terrace. Linking my fingers in hers, I guide her along the corridor and through yet another living room the mansion doesn’t need, exiting via a patio door at the back. Rounding the side of the building, we re-join the crowd and I smirk down at her.
“Problem solved.” Her wide smile beams back at me just as Sharon steps onto a platform at the front. Not a hair is out of place, tightly tied back in a slick ponytail with the deep shade of red on her lips matching her tight bodycon dress. A microphone has been set up at the front of the stage and spotlights shine down on her so brightly, I’m positive she can’t see out into the crowd. The staff members I recognise from the kitchen, along with a dozen I haven’t seen before, have lined themselves along the wall to Sharon’s left. Their chests are puffed out proudly, the finest suits and cocktail dresses dripping from their slender frames.
Sharon is too busy reciting a list of rules she clearly knows by heart to notice us amongst her rich friends while I try to think of a way to slyly ruin her evening. My brain snags on a particular piece of information, that she retains 25% of all winning bids to fund future auctions and an idea cements in my mind. I whisper the plan into Avery’s ear, and she suppresses a giggle as someone bumps into me roughly. I look around with a scowl but there’s too many women milling around to pinpoint who exactly wasn’t watching where they were going.
The first willing candidate is called on stage, a heavily freckled guy of medium build with auburn hair which cause a small group of ladies in the right corner to giggle and bounce with anticipation. I point them out to Avery, and we veer off to approach the small group from either side. Sharon suggests the bidding starts at $15,000 and a plump woman in front of me gets ready to shoot her hand into the air.
“Hey Aves,” I whisper shout across them, “wasn’t he the one that gave crabs to a whole group last week?”
“Oh, I heard they were fleas and he got them from the cat. That guy sure loves pussy.” The women around us balk and gasp, quickly rushing away to filter the rumour through the crowd as Avery and I fall apart. Sharon calls again for the bids to start, her face dropping as no response comes. Shooing freckle face from the stage, she flaps her hand for the next girl in the queue to jump into the spotlight. A blonde with purple tints in the ends of her long curls bounces onto stage, her skimpy dress exposing her huge chest and tiny waist. Introduced as Vicky, she pushes her cleavage together while I wind my way to another part of the crowd.
“Vagina wider than the Grand Canyon, that one.” I murmur loudly enough for a huddle to my left to hear. Not surprisingly, a flow of hushed whispers passes from one end of the crowd to the other and no bids are entered. Sharon stomps across the stage on her black heels, pointing to a girl further down the line and beckoning her onto the platform at once. The brunette is incredibly pretty, an eyebrow cocked over her doe eyes as she nibbles on her bottom lip suggestively.
“Let’s start Felicity off at $10,000, shall we? She’s rather wild and enjoys sharing partners with a group,” Sharon’s voice rolls through the speakers dotted around the patio seductively.
“Don’t forget how she passes out every time she cums, without fail. We had to call for an ambulance last time,” Avery speaks loudly with a broad American accent. Murmurs and questionable glances are passed around, no one bids on poor Felicity either. She runs off stage, holding her face in her hands but I can’t bring myself to feel bad. I’m too busy enjoying myself by ripping away the only thing Sharon cares about – money.
“Moving on, a few of you might recognise Karen- “
“Oh, not Chlamydia Karen,” I moan, not bothering to disguise my voice.
“Whoever that is needs to report to me at once. There have never been any complaints with my volunteers, and they are all tested for STD’s on a regular basis.” There’s a defiant tick in Sharon’s jaw, but still no one raises their hand to bid. Silence falls over the gardens, only the sound of crickets filling the empty void around us. “Well Daniel here- “
“Cries when he cums,” Avery cups her mouth to shout. Holding a hand up against the glare, Sharon squints
