Nanny with benefits

The room they kept them in was cold and dark. There was no distinction between where the walls ended and the ceiling began.

It was all gray, with no windows. There were hooks on the walls for them to hang their belongings. At Mallory’s hook was the number 23.

Mallory slid on her stilettos and grabbed her bikini off of the designated hook. It was so skimpy, that she could have flossed with it. Not her taste, but perfect for the auction she was about to step into.

“Wanna see yourself, toots?” asked the blonde woman next to her. In her hand was a piece of a shattered mirror.

“Snuck it in, for safety. But, also to straighten up my face,” she continued. “We want to attract the high-rollers, yeah.” She laughed but her eyes were void of any joy. “It’s how this works, you know.”

Mallory did know. She knew exactly how this place worked.

All the women in the room would be organized into three groups, top, medium, and inferior.

They were slaves. Sold and traded like livestock. The top tier is the stock that is considered the most desirable. They would be sold to the richest men, which hopefully, meant a better life.

The medium tier would damn you to a life in brothels, or be forced to walk the streets at night.

The inferiors- well… No one wants to imagine what happens to those girls.

“No, thanks,” Mallory muttered. “You look great though.”

“Suit yourself, girly,” the blonde woman said. “But I’m getting sold to the top dog if ya know what I mean.”

The sound of a loud latch released from the door and got everyone’s attention. A man emerged.

He was short and stocky, his one leg shorter than the other, which gave him a limp. He reminded Mallory of an angry penguin–his nose big enough to resemble a beak.

Brent, the warden, had arrived.

“Fresh meat!” he said with a gross smile.

His dirty fingernails tapped the clipboard in his hand. He waddled around the room and watched all the women change into nothing but a bikini and heels.

Everyone was silent. The instructions in the van were clear: Don’t talk unless you’re spoken to.

He ticked everyone’s numbers off of his board.

Coming to the end of the large room he neared the blonde and Mallory. The blonde stepped out of her line. She stood with her legs wide and pushed her chest forward.

“Listen here, hunky monkey.”

In a rehearsed motion she raised one arm and then the other, she bent her legs wide and dipped her body down in a stripper move.

“I’m willing to do anything you want.” She flicked her hair and spun to show him her ass.

His eyes glinted with a greedy hunger and his tongue shot out to wet his cracked lips.

“Is that so?”

“I know the story,” she said, batting her eyelids. “We’re getting put into groups. The Hotties…” She ran a hand between her legs. “...The Acceptables…” Then she turned once more. “...and the Not-gonna-live-for-longs.”

She giggled again and walked closer to him with sultry steps.

She was close to him now, her bust was right up against his chest and she had a hand on his thigh.

“I wanna be at the top of that list, baby,” she said.

“Keep talking and you very well might be.” Brent grabbed her by the neck. He inspected her closely. “How old are you?”

The pain made the blonde’s face go red and she grabbed his hand with hers.

“Twenty-six,” she managed to splutter. “You like it rough, don’t ya, big man?”

The man squeezed her neck tighter. The blonde spoke through a hoarse throat.

“I can do it rough,” she continued, barely able to breathe. “If you promise you’ll give me a top rating.”

Even in the violence, she didn’t break her act. Mallory could tell how desperate she was to escape the inferior rating.

Those women were destined for an awful life. No, you wanted to be rated top or medium at the very least.

The man looked closer at the blonde’s face.

“I’ve been in this biz long enough to know crow’s feet that deep belong to a whore way over thirty. You look like a well-used bitch.”

He squeezed her neck harder, making her whimper. It seemed to turn him on.

“We’re not meant to mess with the merchandise but I’ll take a dirty skank when she’s wanting.”

He threw her to the floor and unzipped his pants. “Suck it,” he said.

Mallory, so preoccupied with her own plan, hadn’t looked away like the other girls.

“You! Yes, you, slut,” he demanded, pointing straight at Mallory. “Keep watching. See how it’s done.”

The blonde scuttled on hands and knees across the dirty floor, she had to lift his flab slightly to find him. When she did, she went straight to work.

She was overly theatrical about the affair. There were impossible noises and she moved her head enthusiastically. She touched herself with exaggerated gestures to try and show him that she was enjoying it too.

He didn’t seem to notice. The entire time the blonde was performing, he was staring right into Mallory’s eyes.

She knew he wanted a reaction from her, but she wasn’t going to give it to him. She met his gaze, standing up straight.

His eyes darkened with arousal, head falling back, fingers laced in the blonde’s hair. He bit his lips and moaned out loud, a deep, throaty sound that made Mallory shiver in her very bones.

The blonde’s body jerked as she gagged on the cock pushed deep in her mouth. The motion pleasured him, and he sucked in his breath, pushing her head even more against him.

Then he started to unravel, his legs and arms quivering with the force of his climax. He held the blonde in place, not allowing her even one breath as he exploded into her mouth. His eyes shot open at the very moment, locking on Mallory.

She felt dirty. As though it were her being violated in that way.

After a few seconds, he discarded the blonde like a used Kleenex and walked over to her with his pants still around his ankles. The pink tip of his cock pointed at Mallory like a bleached clown’s nose.

“I hope you took notes,” he said, still out of breath. “Because you’re next.”

“No, thank you,” Mallory said, keeping her voice even.

“That wasn’t a question.”

Before he was in arm’s reach, Mallory stretched over to the blonde’s jacket pocket. She pulled out the shard. When he tried to stop her, she positioned the sharp side of the mirror up to his neck.

“I said, no.”

She stuck out her chin in defiance.

Gasps filled the empty room but everyone was still too frightened to move. Even the blonde, with her knees now bruised, didn’t get off the floor.

The man laughed. It was an icy, maniacal sound in the dank room.

“What did you just say to me, you dirty slave?” He reached for his pants and pulled them up.

“I said ‘no’. Is that too big of a word for such a small man? Maybe I should spell it for you. N.O.” Mallory held onto the piece of glass so tightly it began cutting into her skin.

“That was a mistake,” he said, his eyes flashing with rage. He pushed his pen onto his clipboard. “Inferior.”

“What?”

This couldn’t happen; it would ruin her plan. She needed to be noticed by the richest man that will be there tonight. She had to be noticed by the billionaire, Carter Reed.

Everyone knew billionaires didn’t pay any attention to Inferiors.

“That’s right,” Brent said with a sniveling laugh. “You might as well be dead.”

Mallory couldn’t control her anger. She spat at him.

He wiped her saliva from his cheek with another smile.

“This is probably the last time you’ll ever stand up straight in heels. Pity though.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re a pretty thing.”

He walked up to her and rammed her against the wall. He grabbed her pussy hard and pushed his big belly on her. She could barely breathe.

“You just decided the rest of your life.” He sniffed her neck and let her go, laughing diabolically like he knew how she would die.

He went back to the task of rating the other women as though nothing had happened.

He called out their numbers one by one and lined them up into three groups. Mallory was the last number called, and she went into the last line. The Inferior line.

“Let’s get to it, shall we?” He walked out and motioned for them to follow.

The women were led down a dark hall, up some stairs, and finally into an old manor house.

Their neon pink ensembles seemed out of place with the classic hunting house interior of the grand structure. They were then led into a giant ballroom where the auction would be held.

The room itself was filled with cigarette smoke. Men–tall, short, fat, thin, some greasy, some were wearing suits, some were tattooed, and some were clearly carrying guns. They filled every corner of the place.

Most of them couldn’t control themselves and were already stroking themselves over their pants with anticipation.

“You lot over here,” the female auctioneer said, pointing toward the show windows.

The Top-rated women marched to their places, spotlights bringing them into focus for all the men. There were audible gasps and wolf whistles as they each stood on display.

“Mediums, fall in behind,” the auctioneer said. “And Inferiors off to the side over there.”

“But it’s all dark,” one girl called out. “No one can see us back there.”

The auctioneer seemed apologetic but didn’t say anything. She just snapped her fingers and everyone jumped in line.

Mallory kept her composure. She didn’t smile, but she did keep her chin low and scanned every face in the room. She could see some puzzled looks. Such good stock wasn’t normally at the back of the line.

“Let the auction begin!” the auctioneer called out.

The auctioneer was wearing a tight red skirt suit that was tailored to show off her surgically-enhanced figure. With straight black shiny hair that looked like ink and big dark eyes, she commanded everyone’s attention.

“The bidding begins at the Top Tier. We have busy people in the room tonight. Fill up your whiskey glasses and get your credit cards ready. This is the best litter of bitches we’ve had in a while!”

The crowd cheered and drifted forward as if on cue.

The blonde was introduced as Stacy FineWine.

“...her skillsets include: dancing, lovemaking and-” The auctioneer rolled her eyes. “-deep throating.” She pursed her lips. “Wonder what she had to do to be at the top of our list tonight.”

Everyone laughed.

After a few bids, the blonde was sold for $100 000 dollars. Barely a mid-tier quantity. If she was upset about it, Mallory couldn’t tell. She was escorted out of the room by her new owner.

If she ever wanted to ask her, she’d never know. It was the last time that Mallory ever saw that blonde.

Time ticked by slowly.

As the wealthier of the party weeded out the room with their prizes in their arms, Mallory was left standing among the less high-quality men.

Each woman was announced with her name, her special qualities, and her applicable job possibilities.

Most of the work was some form of sex work–from strippers to concubines. But if you were lucky, you could be a personal maid (with benefits).

That way there would be some purpose to your life outside of serving your master in the bedroom.

The crowd grew rowdier as the whiskey drowned out any semblance of order.

Some of the slaves had already been put to work in dark corners of the room. Among the musk of men, there was the smell of sex.

“Finally, gentlemen, we have Mallory Brown.” The auctioneer gestured a hand in her direction.

Mallory was now standing center stage. She planted a stiff smile on her face as her nerves ramped up.

“A magnificent specimen, as you can see,” the auctioneer continued. “Mallory is 25-years-old, and a trained ballerina with a half-finished degree in child-care.” She looked out to the audience with surprise. “Someone with actual credentials!” she announced to raucous laughter.

“I’d like to show her my credentials!” a burly man shouted from the front.

More laughter.

“She can get a degree on my dick!” shouted another.

“Now, now, gentlemen. I’m not finished,” the auctioneer said, trying to bring back some order. “Mallory has three years of experience in babysitting. Her uses include nanny with benefits, prostitute, or sex slave. She’ll be perfect for the single father out there.”

“I’ll start the divorce proceedings immediately!” the burly man from before shouted, moving toward Mallory. “I bid $20 000!”

The auctioneer stepped in his path. “We’ll start the bidding at $50 000.”

Several paddles reached into the sky. Men were shouting out figures that Mallory couldn’t make out. She was surprised by the urgent clamor for her sale.

“I hear 100. I hear 150.” The hostess was pointing to the relevant bidders.

There was one man, dressed in a pinstripe suit standing at the front, who out-bid every contender.

“$500 000!” he shouted, eagerly waving his paddle.

The audience was in a flurry. Somehow Mallory had become the most desired product on display.

The man in the striped suit hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since she walked into the room. He hadn’t stopped smiling either. Every now and then, the light caught his gold tooth and the glare made her squint.

There was no further bid. Nobody was willing to top that half a million. The man in the suit started forward. He tossed his paddle and held out his hand to Mallory.

She kept her smile steady while her breathing grew shallow and her pulse quickened.

This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be over. The man closed his hand around her wrist, his fingers thin and cold.

Then out of the darkness came another man’s voice, “One million dollars.”

The crowd silenced. The man in the suit finally broke his gaze and turned around to find the source.

“Sold!” said the auctioneer. “To the highest bid we’ve had all year!”

“No!” shouted the man with the gold tooth. “She’s mine!”

“Sorry, love, but money speaks louder than you do,” the auctioneer said.

A low mumble traveled through the crowd. They wondered who had laid the final bid. Everyone looked around anxiously.

“Let her go, Jake,” said the voice again.

The man’s jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. “Carter Reed,” he said, surprised.

The name Carter Reed could fill any man with fear. He was the king of the mafia. There was no family richer or more powerful than the Reeds. And like royals, they demanded everyone’s respect.

Jake dropped his hand off of Mallory. He had to obey Carter Reed’s will if he didn’t want to start another bloody war.

Mallory desperately tried to see the face of her new owner. But he stood by the door, across the large hall, and the giant stage lights blinded her.

The short fat warden, Brent, appeared out of nowhere. Then he shoved Mallory from behind.

“Walk, bitch, you’ve got a new owner,” heJake grunted.

“Leave her, Brent. I’ll walk her out safely.” It was tThe auctioneer. Her fierce eyes made Brent cower away.

She turned to the crowd. “She is the prize of the night! The belle of the ball, after all!”

She took Mallory by the arm.

The men laughed again, then they applauded. A spotlight shone down on the two women as they crossed the large hall.

The crowd cheered drunkenly while Jake still stared at Mallory’s back as she walked away. His fists had hardened into balls.

“Well done,” The auctioneer whispered through the side of her mouth as they walked slowly through the inebriated crowd.

“I have to thank you, Simone,” said Mallory.

“Thank yourself, hot stuff.” Simone managed to speak without moving her lips. “I told you this wasn’t guaranteeddid as you told me…. I just showed him your photo. He picked you out of hundreds of whores. He said you had charm, and bought you. What I did was just recommending.”

Mallory winks at her.

Everyone in that room had thought Mallory was just a piece of meat. They assumed she was a pathetic slave who had been through terrible things.

They thought she had just been lucky and pretty enough to win Carter Reed’s approval.

But the auctioneer, Simone, knew that this was Mallory’s plan all along. Simone had helped her infiltrate the market and managed to ensure Mallory was noticed by him long before today.

She was voluntary to be here. She sold herself.

It was all because of her secret…She needs to approach Carter Reed.

When they were safely outside, the woman handed Mallory a blanket to cover her naked body from the cool night air. They waited for her car to arrive.

“Where is he?” Mallory asked, she was frustrated. She wanted to meet this manthis man, she had worked hard to get close to him. She wanted to find the truth.

“He’s already gone. A man like Cater Reed would never share a ride with a slave.” Simone was more relaxed away from the crowd.

An old Honda pulled up and Simone opened the door for Mallory.

“Listen, this is where I leave you. This is as far as I can get you. Remember what I said, just smile and do as he says.”

“Thank you, you have no idea how much you’ve helped,” said Mallory, who was now seated in the car.

“Save it, Mallory. The hard part hasn’t even started. Rumor has it, Carter Reed has been through five slaves in four months. It’s a fucking record. You need to stay safe. The word is; he is unpleasable.”

Simone shut the door and gave a little wave.

The car sped off into the dark night.

“We’ll see about that,” Mallory muttered under her breath.