The double doors burst open, and Samantha comes strutting into the dressing room. She checks over all the girls one by one, her redheaded assistant running around, frantically trying to make sure it all looks perfect for her. Samantha’s quite interesting to watch; I can’t help but be in awe of her and this business she’s built. I feel like there’s a really good story there, but I’m sure with the kind of secrets she keeps, she’d never tell it. She’s stunning and looks almost like a Stepford wife, but I don't see a ring on her finger. Her shiny blonde hair is pulled back into a perfect chignon with not a strand out of place. She has very little make-up on, and her outfit, though just a simple black dress, looks like it cost more than I can imagine. She oozes class and sophistication, which is odd because she’s basically running a high-class prostitution service, if you were to call it what it really is.
Meeting Samantha was a stroke of luck. She was at the private poker game when I came to get my father. I'm guessing she was there to get business from the high rollers for the Mistress Auctions. When she saw me, and the bind I was in, she pulled me to the side and told me how she could help.
She said if I met all the requirements, I’d go up on the auction block and would be given to the highest bidder. She collects a percentage of all sales, but insisted there were lots of rules and guidelines to protect everyone. She told me a few of the rules that first night, and the one that stuck out the most was the virgin clause.
In the agreement, virgins must have their first coupling on the property right after purchase. Maybe they wanted to be sure the girl was really a virgin, but I thought the extensive physical should have proved that. Either way, that rule stuck out in my mind because I knew once the hammer went down on ‘sold’, it was time to pay up and put out. The thought terrified me, and I tried not to dwell on it. If I did, I’d be out the door in three seconds flat.
Samantha looks over all the girls, inspecting every detail, and when she gets to me she stops. She looks me up and down and nods. “You’re first.” Her smile is wicked, and she seems a little smug. “You're going to make me a fucking killing. I’m thinking those two would pay anything.”
I give her a questioning look, thinking someone is already set to bid on me. Maybe they gave out our pictures when people first arrived or something.
“I should’ve put in a decoy to jack up the price,” she mumbles, clearly talking to herself as she walks away.
“Drink it,” Kim says, shoving a glass of champagne in my face.
“I’m not old enough.” I push the glass back from my face, needing to keep my head straight tonight.
“Yeah well, it’s not really legal to sell your virginity either, but here you are. Drink it. It’ll help calm your nerves. You look like you might pass out.”
She’s right. The time has come, and I do feel a little faint. Part of me wants to flee the room, but I’m not sure I can move my feet right now. I take the glass from her hand and drink it in three big gulps. It’s crisp and extra cold, making my eyes water for a second. I take a breath, and I do feel a little better by the time the drink hits my stomach.
“Let’s go.” Samantha’s assistant takes my wrist and pulls me down the short hallway with Samantha leading the way.
I look back over my shoulder, and see Kim mouth ‘good luck’ at me, and I turn back around, trying to keep my feet from tripping over nothing. We stop short of a thick black curtain, and I suddenly feel like I’m in The Wizard of Oz, wondering what’s sitting on the other side of the curtain. I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Red places me dead center in front of the curtain, and then backs herself off to the side. Samantha walks over and pulls some of my dark curls over one shoulder, but makes sure they’re not covering my breasts. The white nightie hides nothing at all, sheer fabric from my breasts down to my mons. Red tried to get me to put a thong on, but I told her it wouldn't look too hot if I was picking my ass the whole time I was on stage. The compromise was no underwear, so I’m sure whoever is on the other side of the curtain is about to see all of me. I feel a chill, and the cold champagne I drank so fast has turned my nipples rock hard, making them easy to see through the thin fabric.
Samantha straightens my appearance, and makes a tutting sound when she looks down at my feet. It’s then I notice I don’t even have any shoes on. Shit, I forgot the stupid heels. Probably for the best anyway, I would likely fall off the stage in them.
“Remember, Stella, this is all for the money. Don’t let them see your fear.”
I nod, and she walks to the side of the stage. A male voice fills my ears, and I know the time has come. “Let’s begin, gentlemen. The girls are ready, and tonight we are starting off with a rare treat. Normally we’d save something like this for last, but I thought we’d give each of you an opportunity to bid before you made other purchases. This rare gem has something you all want.” There’s a pause, and I hear a lot of mumbling. “Tonight I offer you Stella, the twenty-year-old virgin.”
The curtains part.
2
AARON
Leaning against the back wall, Justin and I wait impatiently for the auction to start. He looks over and smiles at me. He’s so excited, and I can’t help but smile back. This is a moment we’ve been waiting for, and it can’t come soon enough. I start to think about everything it took to get to this point, and how lucky we are.
Getting into the casino business is tough. It’s even tougher when you’re young. People don’t want to take you seriously, but if you’ve got money, suddenly everyone’s your friend. My brother Justin and I have been in the business since we were old enough to work, bussing tables for Antonio Cortez aka Don.
Justin and I were foster kids bouncing all around Nevada. We had a knack for hustling as kids, and it turned out to be useful as we got older. Justin is younger than I am, but only by eleven months. Most people called us Irish twins, though we weren’t related by blood. We were closer than brothers, and being thrown into foster care made us the same in a lot of ways. Neither of us had a family so we became each other’s.
We sometimes ended up in the same grade, but that depended on what school system we were in. After we graduated together and got our high school diplomas, we made our way to Vegas. We knew a guy in our old neighborhood who had connections and got us jobs as busboys at the Gold Peacock casino, right on the strip. It was owned by Don. We got a dirt cheap apartment a few blocks away, and ate ramen noodles for months at a time. We didn’t start out with much, but we knew if we worked hard and met the right people, luck would find us, and we could go places. Justin and I dreamed big, and money motivated our every move.
After about six months at the Gold Peacock, we got our first break. One night six whales flew in for a private poker game. Not a normal private game where they’re roped off in the back and people can still see. No, this was full-on discreet. Nobody in or out, unless completely vetted by Don. Lowly busboys like us wouldn’t have ever known about this event if it wasn’t for a certain whale getting some fresh air.
Justin and I were out back on a break, waiting for our midnight-to-morning shift to start. Justin was leaning back against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette, when a big guy in a suit came out the back. He was on his phone and speaking some language I didn’t recognize. We ignored him because we knew better, and went back to our conversation about betting on the Super Bowl, and bitching about Vegas not having their own team. After a few minutes, the guy walked over and nodded at Justin’s cigarette.