Chapter 8: Friends, Part 8, One Month Ago

James

“I’m sure you get my point, Sir.”

“It’s hard to miss. And what about the contract with the girls? What does it cover?”

“Each contract is personalised to the girl. They each have different, um, assets, to sell to gentlemen, and sometimes ladies, of different tastes. We interview them to see what they have to offer. Some of the girls, for example, are interested in art, or movies or literature. We have clients who are looking for what you might call a courtesan, who want an intelligent conversation with the girl.

“So, every contract is different and is tailored to the girl and what she agrees to do. For example, Jewel here,” he flips to a different page, “has offered to be a ‘wife’ for the period of one year with all the customary wifely responsibilities, including housekeeping and suchlike, as well as…. other duties. We have had a few similar contracts in the past. They can be a great success for both Buyer and Seller. Sometimes the girls renew the contracts or even marry their purchasers.”

“May I?” I flick the brochure pages until I find the right page. “And this girl? Charlotte?”

The sales rep looks closely at the image “Oh yes, Sir. There’s been a lot of inquiries about her. I think the strength of her appeal is obvious in the photos.”

“And her contract?”

“In the case of Charlotte, she has agreed to anything requested of her for the period of one week.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, Sir. Anything. That is to say, anything that does not result in her permanent injury.” His voice is dry. “She will certainly bring a good price.”

Jeez…. does she understand what ‘anything’ could mean in a place like this?

“Do you have any more photos of her?”

“We do, sir, but you will have to pay the deposit before you can see more than this. It’s to protect the girls from predators.”

“I understand.”

“And we need you to supply some personal details.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Sir. As I say, it’s to protect the girls.” He starts tapping his keyboard. “I need proof of ID, bank details….” He glances up at me as I reach for my wallet. “Do you have a criminal record?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Sorry, Sir. We have to ask.”

“Of course.”

“Anything else you think I should know?”

“Yes, sir. We require you to report at the end of the contract that you are satisfied with, um, delivery, and the girl is fit and well.”

“That’s understandable. Anything else?”

“Yes Sir, we will require a medical certificate from you, dated within the last two weeks, that you are certified free of STDs.”

I was due for my next visit to the clinic anyway.

“Fine, that’s not a problem. Please register me.”

*****

Taking a coffee break sitting on the hotel balcony, I hear the ping of my email.

Idly, coffee cup in hand, I wander through to see what’s arrived….

Subject Line: Tender for Contract Ref A3748/2015/B - Haswell

A prickle runs down my spine and my gut clenches. All the days and months, nay, years, of work I put in….

Coffee forgotten, I open the email.

Dear Mr Alexanders,

We are pleased to inform you that your tender for Contract Ref A3748/2015/B has been successful….

I stare at it unbelieving, my brain not absorbing what my eyes are seeing, then…

I've done it! I've fucking done it!

I don’t know what to do with myself. In the space of a minute, I’ve gone from struggling entrepreneur to having more money than I’m ever going to need.

I glance down at the invoice for Georgetta’s University fees and burst out laughing.

What to do now?

Some things just have to be shared.

I tap into my mobile:

I’m celebrating. U free tonite?

sure what’s the celebration?

Got the contract

THE contract? The 1 u told me about?

Yes

Wow! congrats man. c u 8 pm at mine? Meal and club?

Gr8 c u then

*****

In a restaurant, over steak and salad, “I’ve got something else to tell you.”

“Oh? As well as hitting the big time? You have been busy. What’s that then?” Michael tops up our glasses with the rather good Rioja we’re sharing.

“I’ve, um…. I’ve signed up to attend a rather unusual auction.”

“Really?” He looks intrigued. “You finally buying yourself a house? Now you’ve got that contract? You were fast on your feet.”

“No, nothing like that.”

I pass him the brochure. He looks at the front, frowning.

Looking for the Girl of Your Dreams?

He looks baffled. “A dating agency? For you?”

“No, it’s not a dating agency. Read what it says inside.”

He starts reading, brows furrowing. “I don’t get it, James. If you want to buy a woman, you’ll find one at a lot less than these prices. The working-girls on most of the street-corners down in the old town wouldn’t empty the small change from your pocket…. If you were into that sort of thing. Why on earth….?”

“Look at page thirty-two.”

He riffles through to the page, looks and whistles. “Wow! What a stunner. I can see why she’s drawn your eye, but….” His eyes are still, scanning, reading the notes, “…. there’s plenty of willing gals around the clubs. Why….” He pauses. “Hang on, it says here this girl’s a virgin.”

“That’s right.”

He stares at me. “You’re not serious?”

“Why shouldn’t I be serious? Look at her. Wouldn’t you like to….”

“Yes, I would, if she was willing and if she was experienced and knew what to expect. Your tastes run to slapping them ‘til their asses glow in the dark, then sucking them dry while they're still screaming. It’s fair enough for the girls who like that sort of thing, but on a virgin, that would be abuse.”

I begin to feel uneasy.

Is he right?

It sounded like a much better idea when it stayed inside my head….

“You have got to be kidding me. James, you can pull all the women you want or can handle with no effort. Why on earth would you want to do something like this?”

“They’re all there as volunteers, all consenting….”

Michael’s smile is gone.

I didn’t expect this.

He’s angry with me....

“I’m not going to abuse the girl obviously. We’ve known each other for years. Surely you don’t think….”

“Yes, years. And I’ve seen a hundred times what you expect from a woman. Your wife left you because of it. So now, you want what? To buy a virgin?” Michael’s voice is rising, and waiters and some of the other customers are looking our way. He looks around, then drops his voice to a hiss. “Are you out of your fucking head? With your tastes, you think you’re the man to put a virgin in the saddle? You have some sort of virgin fantasy? You want to deflower a young girl? Enough to buy one.” He checks the page again, “…. She’s twenty-two. She’s younger than your daughter for fuck’s sake!”

He stares me down, food forgotten, red-faced and livid with anger. “Count me out, James. I want nothing to do with this! Nothing! You understand me?”

I try one more approach. “I’m not planning on hurting the girl. Do you seriously think I would brutalise a young woman who’d never….? What kind of man do you think I am?”

“Right now? I’m not sure…. What exactly does this fantasy of yours involve? What is it you want to do with her? Slapping ten shades of shit out of a sub who wants it, who enjoys it, is one thing, but….”

“I want to make it…. good…. for her….”

He relaxes a bit. “Good? What does that mean, exactly?”

What do I mean….?

“It means…. good. You know how it is. The first time’s never great for anyone, especially for women, unless they’ve got someone who knows what they’re doing. What was your first time like?”

He glares at me, not answering, but the heat of his anger looks to be draining away, then, “And that’s what’s in your head? To make a girl’s first time special for her?”

“Yes, that’s what I want to do.”

He’s silent, staring at the table, drumming his fingers.

“Can I call you afterwards to tell you that she's okay?” I ask.

“What? Afterwards? What do you mean?”

“Afterwards. I’ll call you, to let you know she’s alright.”

He stares down, arms folded, then “Alright, you can call me, but otherwise, I don’t want to know anything about it.” And without looking at me, he stands and leaves.

Well, that didn’t go as I expected.

I’ve lost my appetite for the meal and the wine. Miserably, I pay the bill and go.