Bound Read Online Lauren Landish, W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: , ,
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
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“I’m just . . .” She swallows thickly, her gaze everywhere but on me as she struggles to tell me what’s on her mind. I can already guess it, though, the insecurity of being bid on. The fear of what comes after. I can practically hear her heart running away.

With a kind tone, I reassure her. “Chelsea, they will want you, trust me on that.”

“You . . . you think so?” she asks shyly, fingering her rubber membership bracelet. “My friend said so, but I thought she was just being nice. I mean, I’m—”

“None of that, honey,” I chide her softly. “And yes, I’m sure. Now tonight, you will be on stage alone, displayed one by one for our bidders. The auction will start at five hundred thousand dollars, and bids go up by a hundred grand a bid.” Chelsea squirms, and I lay a hand on her shoulder. “Chelsea, look at me.”

She does, biting her lip. “Madam Lynn, I’m—”

“Going to start a bidding war tonight and change your life in the process,” I assure her. “And the terms are set by you.” My gaze falls to the band she wears on her wrist. Red for pain.

“A red rose still?” I question, although I’m all too sure of her preferences. It’s why she was selected. There’s a demand for submissives like her, and with this contract, she’ll experience pleasure like she’s never imagined.

Chelsea nods, her gaze firmly matched with mine this time. “I want pain.”

“You’ll be holding a red rose to tell the bidders that is your preferred style of play.”

She nods again. “I’ve asked previous boyfriends to go harder, to . . . to spank me. It feels good, but I want more . . . like what happens in the dungeon.”

“I know, love,” I assure her, smiling again. “Have you seen the pamphlet? Your specific requests and no-go areas we’ve gone over are laid out in the pamphlet that the buyers will get when they come in. They’re also in the contract, and we’ll go over it line by line. When it’s time to sign, that’s the time to make any changes or clarify any points. Your hard limits will be written into the contract.”

“I know,” she tells me quietly. "I’ve seen it and thought about it nonstop.”

“And you know there will be an NDA, and it is iron-clad, and any violation will be dealt with?”

Chelsea nods. “I know.”

“Now the most important part of the contract, Chelsea, is the length. It will be for exactly thirty days, you understand. If you obey all the rules, if you complete your contract, you know what you get, right?”

“Half the money bid on me,” Chelsea says, and I nod.

“It’s kept in an escrow account. Your buyer cannot take it back unless you violate the contract.”

“And if he . . . I don’t know, fires me?” Chelsea asks, putting it in terms of employment. I get it. A lot of first-time girls do. “What happens?”

“Then the club investigates. If you didn’t violate the contract, you will receive every last cent.”

“And if he violates any term of the contract, the same goes. And if you’d rather end it early, you can do so. The money, however, won’t be delivered.”

“And the men . . . they like this?” Chelsea asks, and I chuckle, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“Honey, even if you’re a bit scared . . . the thought of what lies just beyond a signed piece of paper turns you on, doesn’t it?” I ask, and she nods. “How do you think they feel? You’re going to have every eye in the room on you tonight. These men will lust for you, yearn for you, and all you have to do is be strong enough, brave enough, to allow yourself to learn what you like, what you want. They will give it to you willingly.”

I step back, and she’s practically breathless, her large eyes dark with desire. “If anything is concerning, I am a phone call away. Always,” I reassure her.

Chelsea nods, biting her lip again, but this time, not in fear but in eagerness.

“Thank you, Madam Lynn.”

I pat her on the shoulder, grateful to offer her this. I’m almost certain I know who will leave with her tonight, and I can only imagine how pleased she will be. Hearts break from time to time, but I don’t want these women to ever regret doing this. I leave her with the parting, “Enjoy the night.”

I do a quick check with the other girls in the backstage area, from the other girl who’s also a first-time auctionee but who’s been an active ‘playtime’ member of Club X for nearly a year, to the girl who’s amassed a staggering fortune from offering herself for auction three to six times a year. We even have a repeat auctionee, a girl who was like me long ago, re-auctioning herself every month, only to be repeatedly ‘bought’ by her Dom . . . who I suspect has a ring to match her collar in the not too distant future.



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