The Virgin - Auctioned

The Virgin Auctioned Book 300.jpg
The Virgin Auctioned Book 300.jpg

The Virgin - Auctioned

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The Virgin Who Auctions Herself - And Her Virginity.

The penniless Charlotte dreams of a bright future has nothing to sell but herself and her virginity. She chooses to auction both to the highest bidder. 

This is the first episode in a steamy bdsm erotica tale of a virgin and her first time with a mature alpha male billionaire...... and others. 

Readers of this story will read of an older man with a young woman as he leads her along an erotic trail of adventure and excitement through bdsm, menage and voyeurism. 
 

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Sample from the Book

A note is passed to the auctioneer. He holds up his hand. “A pause please Gentlemen. I am getting the message from several sources that for them to be willing to bid any higher, they want to be able to see more.” He addresses me directly. “Charlotte. It is entirely your choice, but are you willing to undress at this stage, on the podium? It will almost certainly help you to bring a better price.”

“Undress now? All the way?”

“It’s up to you Charlotte. No-one is going to make you. But the better they can see what they are buying, the better your chances.”

I nod, gulping. Except for the black leather collar at my throat, I am dressed sexily but demurely, not showing too much beyond displaying a bit of cleavage with a low cut blouse. The hall falls silent as I unbutton the blouse and let it fall to the floor. My skirt follows, leaving me skimpily dressed in black lace bra and panties.

“C’mon.” shouts a voice from the back. “Let’s see the rest.” Oh God, don’t let it be him….

Flushing, I unclip my bra, releasing my large pendulous breasts. It feels no better, seeing appreciative, and sometimes calculating looks from some of the faces in front of me.

Slipping fingers inside my panties, I slide them down to join the puddle of clothes on the floor. I hadn’t anticipated this, thinking that I would at least be in private with whoever my owner of one week was going to be.

Naked, I stand in front of my audience, trying to stand straight and thinking that I should be wanting to burst into tears.

Oddly, I don’t.

The attack of nerves that has been holding for the last two days is fading away and is being replaced with a kind of anticipation. My trembling is turning instead into a kind of quivering.

It dawns on me that I am actually beginning to enjoy this.