Summary

Sloane Heathrow was never meant to apply. It was a joke—a late-night click on a dark web ad that promised one million dollars for one virgin. But when a black-and-gold email lands in her inbox with an interview time and location, the joke stops being funny. The offer is real. The contract is binding. And the men behind it? Hidden, rich beyond comprehension, and utterly untouchable. Thirty days. Three men. And one secret she can never tell.

Chapter 1

I’d spent most of my life in a dark cave. And I don’t mean that in a metaphorical way. Literally.

The underground basement of BD Systems isn’t big or luxurious. It’s a sardine can that can fit three people—if someone agrees to cut off a limb or two. But it has air conditioning, and it’s quiet. The best part? No one bothers coming down to chat with the nerds who occupy it.

Unless, of course, they’re in a rush, the printer jams, and you’re the only one who knows how to fix it. Because that’s what I do all day. I fix broken stuff.

I’m Sloane Heathrow, information systems architect—a really posh way of saying IT girl. Fixer of printer jams. Wizard of resets.

I spend my days drinking coffee from a chipped mug with Yoda’s face plastered on the front. It says: “Fix computers, they do. Break them, you must not.”

It was 7 p.m., and I was stuck in this tuna can while the executives clacked away at their keyboards upstairs. But I didn’t mind—I was paid by the hour and hadn’t paid my electricity bill in a few months. It’d be shut off in a few days if I didn’t hand over something.

Tonight was no different from any other night—until I saw it.

The ad.

While I spun aimlessly in my chair, sipping lukewarm coffee, I liked to surf the web. But not just any web. The dark web.

It was mostly for shits and giggles. I love the thrill of knowing you were prowling through the dark secrets of strangers. There were drugs and weapons, sure, but I didn’t bother looking at those. What I really liked was stolen data.

It was a secret hobby of mine. Stolen data.

It started innocently enough. The occasional Facebook hack. My next-door neighbor. The stranger who called me a bitch at Starbucks when I spilled my coffee on him.

But now it was more. I’d hack into bank accounts just to see what was inside. I never took anything; I just wanted to have a look.

Sometimes I’d get a laugh hacking into a weather forecast dashboard and changing the weather to “Cloudy with a chance of dicks.”

Or I’d hack into the city’s security cameras. Not to play Batman. More like Where’s Waldo, but in real life.

As I was scrolling through one of the browsers on GhostPort, the biggest dark web server on the planet, I saw it. In big capital letters:

ONE MILLION DOLLARS. ONE VIRGIN.

I almost spat out my coffee. It couldn’t be real.

I tapped the link and kept reading.

ONE MILLION DOLLARS FOR ONE VIRGIN.

INTERVIEWS BEGIN TOMORROW.

CONFIDENTIALITY IS REQUIRED.

TAP THE SECURE LINK TO SUBMIT YOUR APPLICATION.

LOCATION: LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

“What?” I whispered to myself, shaking my head. I skimmed the ad a few more times.

I laughed and clicked the button below that said APPLY NOW. An empty form appeared on my screen with a black background and sleek gold lettering. It asked for my first name and then one simple question:

Are you a virgin?

I laughed again and ticked Yes.

After all, it was true…

Application submitted. You will be sent the details for the interview location and time.

I froze. How could it know enough about me to send a confirmation? It was either a prank or…someone knew how to get my information.

And then I panicked.

My fingers flew across the keyboard, typing code faster than I ever had before. I tried breaking through the first wall.

ACCESS RESTRICTED.

The message flashed at me, and I groaned. I clicked and typed frantically, making it past a few visible ports. I scanned, looking for any sloppy CSS code.

Nothing. It was a coded fortress.

ACCESS RESTRICTED.

“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming my hands onto the keyboard.

I looked at the clock. It was time to go home. I sighed. It was probably just a prank anyway. I turned off my laptop and slid it into my bag.

I shut off the lights and air conditioning and locked the door behind me. Then I headed toward the exit, telling myself not to think about it. It wasn’t real anyway.

But for some reason, it still played in my mind.

When I reached my apartment door, I could still see it—the black background, the gold lettering.

ONE MILLION DOLLARS FOR ONE VIRGIN.

I sank onto the couch, letting out a sigh of relief. I was wrecked.

Then I heard it.

Ding.

I pulled out my phone. A new email notification on my personal email.

Subject: Interview Confirmation

“No, no, no,” I whispered. “It wasn’t real.”

I opened the message, and there it was. In true mysterious form, the message had the same black background and gold lettering:

Dear Sloane,

Your application was received. Please arrive at the Diamond Montgomery Hotel tomorrow evening at 8 p.m. sharp. Tardiness is not permitted.

Regards,

The Curator

“No way,” I said softly, my eyes scanning the email over and over again in disbelief.

I had never given them my email address.

---

The next morning started like any other. My Yoda cup was filled to the brim with cheap coffee, and my co-worker Steve was swearing at his monitor, grumbling something along the lines of, “Why do I spend all my time walking her through how to reset her computer?”

He was on the other side of our tin-can office, wearing a band T-shirt and khakis he’d probably bought in seventh grade.

“Hey,” I grumbled, sitting down in my chair and pulling out my laptop.

He didn’t bother turning. Nerds weren’t always socially inept and we definitely preferred silence.

“You sound like shit,” he said. “Rough night?”

“Yup,” I sighed.

He didn’t ask why. He never did.

But I hadn’t slept. Of course not. I’d been too preoccupied thinking about that application.

You know. The one where I applied to sell my virginity to a stranger for one million dollars.

I’d been up all night checking my firewall, looking for phishing traps, hoping it was just someone trying to hack me. I could deal with that. A hacker.

It happened all the time when you perused the dark web.

But whoever had posted this ad; God damn it, they were a pro. And I was determined to find out who they were. I did not plan on giving up.

The office phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts.

“Your turn,” Steve said dryly. I looked over at his screen. He was playing an RPG on one monitor and drafting an email on the other, explaining that the dog food ad popping up wasn’t a virus.

I groaned and picked up the phone. “Tech support. You’re speaking to Sloane.”

“My meeting’s in five. The printer’s fucked. I need you here,” came a frantic voice.

I turned to Steve, who was now glancing over his shoulder. I mouthed, Guess who?

He rolled his eyes and whispered, “Barb?”

I nodded, pressing my fingers to my temple. We both hated her, and I was pretty sure her coworkers did too. She worked on Level 28, where many of the executives w. We lovingly referred to her as The Bitch on Level 28.

I let her rant for a few moments, then asked sweetly, “Have you tried turning it off and back on again?”

Steve snickered as his warlock zapped a zombie on-screen.

“Excuse me?” she gasped.

“I’ll send someone right up,” I said, my voice professional and polite.

I knew she’d do it. She’d turn it off, then back on again. I wouldn’t hear from her until the next disaster.

For a few moments, I’d almost forgotten about the ad.

Then I heard it again.

Ding.

But this time, it wasn’t email. It was a text.

I flicked my screen open and sucked in my breath. A message from an unknown number:

Upon check-in, please meet my assistant in the hotel lobby. She will know who you are.

How the hell was this possible?

Chapter 2

The Diamond Montgomery Hotel.

It was the sort of old-money hotel that you saw on TV. The kind of hotel where billionaires brought their sidepieces. Where the toilet paper cost more than my student loans.

I felt completely and utterly out of place.

The doorman had opened the door for me-but just barely. He’d been sure to give me a once-over. Me. With my curly red hair and thrift store green dress and white sneakers.

I did not fit in.

I stepped forward and peered around at the lobby. It was all glitter and gold. Marble and glass. And God damnit everything was shiny.

I stood there because I wasn’t sure what I was meant to do. Like an absolute fucking idiot.

“Sloane?”

A voice said my name. Perfectly polite.

I turned and saw a woman standing nearby wearing a black blazer. Her face was serious and free from all emotion.

“Yes,” I managed to stutter.

She eyed me from my white sneakers to the top of my frizzy red curls before cocking an eyebrow, “Follow me.”

And I did. Right into the elevator where she pressed the button for the 54th floor. The very top button in fact. The highest possible floor.

She said nothing as we ascended. The elevator doors finally slid open and we stepped out, stopping in front of a door. She turned to me and held out a clipboard with a piece of paper.

“Sign on the red x,” she said blankly, her other hand holding a pen.

“What is this?” I asked.

“As clearly stated in the ad,” she said. “Confidentiality is required. It’s an NDA.”

I chuckled, “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” She said.

I nodded and took the clipboard and pen. I skimmed the paper. I’d never read an NDA before in my life but it appeared legit. So, I scribbled my signature along the line with the x.

She took the clipboard from me and then held out a bit of black fabric.

“Put this on,” she directed.

“What?” I asked. “Is that a blindfold?”

She nodded and just stood there, waiting. I took the blindfold and secured it over my eyes. I couldn’t see a God damn thing.

“I’ll bring you in.” she said. Her voice seemed softer. But I could have been imagining it.

I heard her open a door and I felt my feet land on tile. She led me in by my arm and I soon felt myself sitting on the edge of a bed. The room smelled woody-with a bit of spice.

“I forgot to ask-are you on birth control?” she said. “Or willing to use birth control?”

I grunted, “That’s intrusive-but yes. Yes I am.” It was ironic given that I was a virgin. But I had been thinking about losing my virginity for quite awhile and had wanted to be prepared.

“He will be here shortly.” She said.

“Does he have a name?” I asked.

She did not answer. Instead, I heard her footsteps fade away as the door shut behind her.

I was alone. In the darkness and silence.

I sat like that for a while, considering whether or not I should just stand up and leave. But for some reason, I stayed anchored there.

Then I heard the door opening. Footsteps. Heavy. Long strides.

“Hello Sloane.”

That voice. It was calm and soft, like velvet. The kind of voice that could make you do anything.

Something about it sent a shiver down my spine.

“I was curious.” I said honestly.

I heard him approach me, his footsteps drawing nearer.

“You always have been curious, haven’t you?” I heard him say.

I laughed, “How would you know?”

He chuckled and I felt my heart race, “I know you’ve been trying to hack into my ad on the dark web. You’ve been a naughty girl Sloane.”

I swallowed, “You can’t knock me for trying.”

“I learned a lot about you Sloane.” I could hear him shifting even closer now. Then I heard the sound of a chair being scrapped along the tile. I could feel him. He was sitting across from me.

“Like what?” I dared to ask.

“Twenty-two years old. Graduated top of your class-at a very prestigious school. Your coding skills are impeccable but not as good as mine. And you work in a basement where no one ever visits you.”

His words hit me like a brick.

My mouth fell open, “How do you know that?”

I heard the chair scrape closer, “I did my research.”

We sat in silence for a few moments and I could feel his eyes on me. Dragging along my body.

“So, Sloane,” he said. “Tell me why you applied.”

“A million bucks is a million bucks,” I said dryly.

He laughed again, and I swear my pussy started throbbing.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“My electricity is about to be shut off,” I replied.

This time he didn’t laugh. Instead, I felt it. His fingers. They were playing with the edge of my dress.

“Tell me the truth Sloane.” He said, his voice husky.

His fingers were slipping beneath my dress now. My thrift store, dollar bargain dress. His fingers had moved further upwards, and they were now grazing my thigh. He leaned forward, so close that I could smell his cologne. It was nice. And I probably couldn’t pronounce the name of it.

I sucked in my breath, “I was curious.”

“Mmm…” he said slowly. “That sounds more honest.”

His fingers were now on my inner thigh, and my panties were moist. My pussy was begging to be touched.

“What is it that you want to know?” he said, his fingers drawing small circles on my inner thigh.

I thought I might faint. Might hyperventilate.

“I-I…” I was stuttering, his fingers were still moving. Edging closer to my entrance.

Then I felt him leaning forward, so close I could feel the heat from his body. It was enough for me to spiral out of control. My mind racing. My body shaking.

“I want to know what it’s like to…” I started.

His fingers were now at my entrance, the tips of them grazing along the top of my lace underwear.

“To what?” he said. Then I felt his breath on my neck, and he kissed me there. Softly. Sensually.

“What it’s like to be fucked,” I croaked. “Not just fucked. But fucked by a stranger.”

He laughed, bringing his mouth to my earlobe and nipping it lightly. His fingers were still grazing along the outside of my entrance. I felt him pull back and instantly my body went cold. I had not wanted it to stop.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” he said. I heard the chair being dragged back into its place. “You’ll be contacted if you are selected to continue.”

And just like that-he was gone. The door shut behind him before the room fell into silence.

And I stayed there on the edge of the bed. My pussy throbbing, my panties soaked. Body shaking.

I heard the door open again. Then the sound of heels clacking against tile.

“Sloane,” the voice said. It was the assistant.

I felt her take my arm, and she led me out of the room again. When the door shut, she spoke, “You can take it off.”

I slid it off and blinked as my eyes faced the light. We made our way back to the elevator and descended in silence. When we reached the lobby, she nodded at me. Then turned and walked away.

As if she hadn’t just escorted me to an interview to see if some strange rich man could take my virginity.

Chapter 3

The email arrived just after lunch.

Subject: Preliminary Agreement – Confidential

Attachment: Contract_Sloane_Heathrow.pdf

I stared back at it. Not daring to tap my screen.

Surely not…

But I did it. I fucking opened it.

The PDF opened on my screen. It was a contract. With the same black background and gold lettering. My stomach did a small flip. There were tons of legal jargon that I did not understand. My eyes fell onto the section headed ‘Payment’.

$1,000,000USD to be paid upon completion of contractual obligations.

I skimmed. Non-disclosure in perpetuity. Full discretion required.

Blah. Blah. Blah. Legal shit. Blah. Blah.

One section caught my interest. I scrolled through it. It was a section about “exclusive arrangements,” travel allowances, and wardrobe budgets.

I whistled. Now that was fancy.

It was long and I honestly didn’t understand most of it.

The details blurred together:

Parties A and B agree to full confidentiality during and after the term. All correspondence will be conducted through the designated liaison or platforms. Termination may occur at the full discretion of any party with written notice.

“Whatever,” I muttered, skimming ahead to the best part. The signature page.

There was a line partway down. Before the signature.

All three clients represented under this agreement…

I blinked, frowning. All three? I shrugged. Maybe it was about me, the mystery man and the assistant. Something about how we all had to take it to our grave. There were a few more lines about mutual agreement, boundaries, consent, blah blah. My gaze drifted back to the payout figure at the bottom and I forgot all about the confusing fine print.

One million.

A number that would take away all my problems and get me out of here.

I closed it, deciding I’d read it properly later. I already knew what he wanted. To fuck me and give me a million dollars. Sounded like a good deal to me.

My pussy ached just thinking about it.

What mattered was that the offer was real.

I signed the digital acknowledgment without a second thought.

Then the phone rang.

“Your turn,” I said across the room to Steve.

He very reluctantly picked it up, “Steve. IT.”

I grinned and spun back to my laptop.

Ding.

It was a text.

Contract received. See you at the hotel. Tonight at 8PM. Tardiness is not permitted.

I didn’t get a single bit of work done, for the rest of the day.

---

The sleek, black car dropped me off right outside the Diamond Montgomery. Same glossy floors and shining windows. Only this time, my nerves felt different.

A dress and shoes had been hand-delivered to my apartment. A gold one. Tight against my skin. But it complemented my red hair and made my blue eyes pop. My red hair cascaded down my back.

I struggled to walk in the tall nude heels I had been given. Not my usual style.

But I had followed the directions.

Because the dress had been delivered to my apartment, along with a card with explicit instructions.

Wear the dress and shoes.

Leave your hair down.

The black lace panties are also mandatory.

The assistant extraordinaire was waiting for me in the lobby again wearing a black suit dress and the same flat expression . “Miss Heathrow,” she greeted me. It was more formal than last time. “Please follow me.”

We took the elevator in silence. My reflection stared back at me from the mirrored walls. I almost didn’t recognise myself.

Red lips. Gold dress. Heels. A far cry from my typical sweater vests and jeans.

The doors opened, and we stepped out and now stood in front of the door.

“Here,” she said, holding out the blindfold again.

My brows lifted. “You’re kidding.”

She did not budge. “I’m not.”

I laughed, “Right. Whatever.”

Still, when my fingers brushed over the fabric, my core tightened. There was something about it. The thought of him touching me in the dark.

I tied it over my eyes.

She guided me inside and onto the bed again. Her heels clicked as she left, the door shutting quietly.

I could feel him before I heard him speak.

“Sloane,” he said. That is all he had to say for me to instantly feel horny.

I tilted my head toward the sound.

“You followed my instructions.” He said, his footsteps drawing closer to me.

“You mean the dress?” I asked, my mouth dry. My heart slamming into my chest.

He stopped close enough that I could feel the weight of his presence. My pulse quickened.

“You will be rewarded for your good behavior.” He said. I felt his finger dragging down my cheek.

I swallowed. “It wasn’t my usual fashion choice.”

He laughed. “A body like yours deserves designer clothing.”

A body like mine? Me? The tech nerd? With red curly hair?

Sure, I had tits and an ass. But I had never thought of myself as the woman with the great body.

For a moment, silence fell over us.

“Lie down,” he said. His voice had changed. It was heavy. Commanding.

I did as I was told.

“So obedient this evening,” he said, his voice low and deep.

I felt him reaching for the end of my dress, pulling it upward. I felt a cool breeze as he slipped it all the way up, revealing the black lace panties.

“I picked these out,” I heard him say as his fingers reached out and tugged at the lace, slipping them off with ease.

I heard him chuckle again, “They’re wet and we have barely started.”

He was right. My pussy had been aching since the moment I put them on. I heard shuffling and then the sound of his belt dropping to the floor. Then clothing.

I wanted to see him. But still. The thrill of the darkness was arousing. I felt him straddle me, one leg on either side of me. He leaned down, his mouth at my ear.

“Why are you a virgin Sloane?” he said, then his mouth moved to my neck, sucking softly.

My back arched and I just wanted him to put it in me.

I squirmed beneath him, “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you needed this,” he muttered. “The thrill.”

“The darkness,” I said. I don’t know why I said it, but I did.

He didn’t say anything, instead he leaned up and took my hand, guiding it to his cock.

And God it was big.

I felt along the length of it. It felt huge. Far too big to go inside of me. He moaned as my hand continued to explore.

“Can you handle it Sloane?” he asked. Something about that excited me.

“Yes,” I said, tightening my grip on it, now moving my hand up and down his shaft as he moaned again.

He leaned down, bringing it closer to my entrance before slowly pulling my hand away. I reached up instinctually and placed my hands around his neck, pulling his lips towards mine. He was shirtless.

“No, no Sloane.” He said turning his head. “You know the rules. No kissing.”

I, in fact, had not properly read any of the rules.

“Yes, sorry.” I said. Acting as if it were a simple mistake.

He didn’t respond. But I spread my legs apart, desperate for him to enter me. He rubbed the tip of himself against my wet entrance, and I instantly moaned.

“You are more than ready for me sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll go slow. It’s your first time, it might hurt.”

“I want it to,” I said. It was like someone else had taken over me.

I felt his fingers slipping between my wet petals and I sucked in, shocked by the unexpected feeling.

“Fuck me,” I begged. I needed something in me-right now. Something to stop the ache.

Then I felt his hands on my waist, gripping it tightly. And then he did it.

He slid his massive cock right into my throbbing pussy. I instantly sucked in. There was pain at first. My walls were so tight around him, that I thought he might break me in half. He moaned as he pushed inside of me completely.

“Oh God,” I gasped, my hands clutching the sheets beneath me. He was filling me. Completely. My hands reached up to grasp onto his shoulders. They were broad, hard, muscular.

“You’re so tight,” he moaned as he began moving in and out slowly. Stretching me. Each movement sent a wave of ecstasy coursing through my body.

I arched my back, pressing into him. Trying to get as close as I possibly could.

For a moment, it was almost like this was not a transaction, but something more. But I didn’t care right now. All I knew was that my body loved it.

He began to pick up speed, and I could hear it. The sound of his dick pushing inside of me. Over and over again.

Chapter 4

“Fuck,” I hissed. The pain was leaving, replaced with pure pleasure. I lifted my hips, desperate for his dick to go as deep as possible.

“You’re eager,” I heard him chuckle in between breaths, his mouth next to my ear. He pushed harder. Faster.

I cried out, my nails dragging along his back as the pleasure mounted. He continued, the sound of his skin slapping against mine arousing me even more. I felt my breasts bouncing from the movements, one of them falling out of my dress. His hand reached down and took hold of it, massaging it as he continued.

And then it came. The orgasm.

It ripped through me. Heavy. Hot. Fast.

I screamed. Pure pleasure.

And he exploded-right inside of me. Warm. Wet.

I let out one last moan and then we stayed like that for a few moments. He was still buried inside of me. He pulled back slowly, his cum dripping from me.

I felt him shuffling around and heard a door open and a sink turn on. A few moments later, there was something cool and wet on my vagina.

“I’m just cleaning you up,” he said softly. He gently wiped my entrance and I shook from the contact, still sensitive.

“Are you sore?” he said gently, pulling the cloth away.

“Only a little, I’m ok.” I said, as I sat up.

I felt his fingers on my face, caressing my cheek, “Have a shower. You can take the blindfold off when I leave. Be sure to follow the instructions on the card in the bathroom.”

And just like that-he was gone. The door clicking shut behind him.

I pulled the blindfold off and peered around. It was a penthouse. A really nice one too. I ran to the windows and peered outside.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. The view was incredible, stretching out across the city. I looked around at the room. The bed I had been on was draped in red silk. The room had white marble floors and the furniture-it looked like the kind of furniture where the person who bought it would say, “Ah, yes. I had it hand carved in Italy last spring.”

I peered outside of the bedroom door. There was a cornered off kitchen as well with white cabinetry and sleek silver appliances.

Then, I made my way to the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom. There was a wide, tall shower with floor to ceiling white marble tile. The showerhead was massive. I walked over to the card on the counter and read the instructions.

Wear the dress and heels in the closet.

And the panties.

Put your hair up.

“What?” I whispered in confusion. “Does he want to do it again?”

I grinned. If he wanted to do it again, I would. I’d do all night if he wanted. My pussy was already throbbing again. I slipped into the shower and cleaned myself up, scrubbing away the cum between my legs with rose-scented body wash. I emerged in a towel and went back into the main area. I found the closet and put on the clothing inside.

It was a tight black dress with strappy sleeves and a slit up the side, paired with tall red heels. It fit like a glove but I wondered how it was possible for me to breathe, it was so tight. He’d also left me a new pair of panties. A bright red G-string.

Then, I put my hair up. I was never one to really style my hair but I did the best I could, managing to get it into a bun of sorts.

Then I heard a knock on the door and opened it to find the assistant standing there.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

I nodded. It was awkward. She obviously knew I was in there having the absolute daylights fucked out of me.

Then she walked away, towards the front doo

“Where are we going?” I asked, following behind her, almost tripping over in the heels.

“You’re changing rooms,” she said without looking back.

We got back into the elevator, and she pressed the second-to-last button. I guess he liked to switch it up. A new room. Fresh sheets.

As long as he fucked me like that again, I didn’t care.

The elevator dinged and we stepped in front of a door. The assistant handed me the blindfold, and I slipped it on. She guided me inside and I sat on the edge of a bed again.

“I’m just going to fix your hair,” I heard her say.

My cheeks burned bright as I felt her hands on me. Then-she was gone again.

I sat there silently. My core was tightening again. Excited for another round.

Then the door opened and closed. Footsteps drew nearer.

“Good evening.” The voice said.

Wait a second. That was not The Curator. The voice was different. Still heavy and deep, but the tone was different.

I felt him grow closer.

“Sloane, is it? Pleasure to meet you.”

My breath caught, “Who are you?”

He chuckled, “Apologies. The Curator only signed our communications with his own name. You can call me Dr. Creed.”

“What do you mean? Why are you here?” I asked, confusion weighing heavily.

He laughed and I heard him shuffling around. Clothes dropping to the floor. Then I felt him between my legs. He was kneeling in front of me, positioning himself between my legs. I felt his hands slipping under my dress and along the top of my thighs.

Ok, maybe I didn’t give a fuck who he was. My new panties were already soaked.

“I’m Dr. Creed. Not to be confused with The Curator or Vale.” He murmured as his hands massaged my thighs.

“What? Three of you?” I gasped.

His hands froze, “You didn’t read the contract did you?”

“I…” I sighed. “Maybe not as deeply as I should have.”

I felt his hands immediately leave my body.

“Sloane, the contract stated that there are three of us.” He said slowly. “If you want to stop, we will stop.”

I paused for a moment, my mind processing his words. But my pussy. My pussy didn’t care.

“I don’t want to stop,” I croaked.

He knelt back in front of me, positioning himself in front of me, “Good.”

I felt him sliding my dress upwards, his fingers making a beeline for my G-string.

“Mmm…” he said. “Good girl.”

His fingers slipped under the G-string and straight to my entrance. He slid his fingers up and down it. “You’re wet for me baby.”

And just like that, I opened my legs. Like a desperate sex-hungry woman.

He laughed and plunged his fingers inside of me. I gasped.

“You like that?” he said softly, his hand reaching up to tug down the straps of my black dress. My breasts spilled out, unrestrained. “God, your tits are perfect.”

I moaned as his fingers slipped in and out of me as his mouth kissed my inner thigh.

“Fuck,” I moaned, sliding closer to the edge of bed. Closer to his face.

“Ah, ah Sloane. I know you didn’t read the contract, but that is against the rules. It’s too intimate. No kissing. No pussy licking.” He laughed.

“Break…” I moaned. “The rules…”

“I promised the others,” he said, bringing his fingers to my clit, making soft circular motions that caused me to arch my back and lay back against the bed.

“You like it, don’t you?” He said, his voice rough and full of lust. Then he pulled his fingers out of me, long enough to push me back on the bed and lay on top of me. I could smell him. The scent of soap and cedar.

His fingers slipped back inside of me and I sighed with pleasure.

“Am I the first to finger you?” He asked gently.

I nodded, enjoying the feeling as he continued his motions.

“Good,” he said, now sucking on my neck before giving it a sharp nip as I cried out again. “The Curator promised me I could be the first.”

The he pulled his fingers away and straddled me. My hands reached up to touch him and all I felt was rock hard muscle. My pussy shivered.

I felt him lean down as he sucked and bit lightly on my nipple. It was pain and pleasure.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said.

He didn’t tease me. He just leaned up, spread my petals with his fingers and plunged right inside, hard and deep. I moaned loudly.

It was big. Just like the first man.

Chapter 5

After the first thrust, he stayed inside of me.

“Does it hurt baby?” he said. “Let me know if it hurts.”

“Hurt me,” I moaned, pulling on his waist, desperate for him not to stop. “Please. I did what you said. I wore the panties.”

“You are a good little slut, aren’t you?” He smiled-I could hear it in his voice.

He pulled away and then re-entered me, “And your pussy is so tight and wet. My God.”

He lifted my legs, placing my ankles on either side of his head. And then he fucked me. Like really, really fucked me. His hands clenched tightly to my ankles.

He pounded into me like a wide animal. I clawed at his chest, I moaned, I arched my back.

“You take it like a good girl.” He moaned. His breath was coming in short bursts.

His skin slapped against mine. My tits bounced from the motions, my hair falling from it’s bun as I screamed. I could feel my moisture, seeping from my entrance.

“You’re a good little slut who does what she is told-aren’t you?” He groaned, his hands now gripping my thighs. I reached up and clutched onto his sweaty wrists.

“I am!” I screamed. “I’m a good little slut!”

And then I orgasmed. While his perfect massive cock continued its motions. Fucking me until I finished. I lay there, as he kept moving, gasping desperately for air. Then I felt his cock vibrate and his cum filled me up.

He pulled away and I felt it leaking from me.

I felt a sharp sting on the side of my thigh. He had slapped me.

“Good girl,” he said. “Very obedient.”

I didn’t respond, I just laid there, gasping.

“Clean up. And follow the instructions.”

And with those words, he left.

I pulled off the blindfold and looked around. This penthouse was different. There was more color and warmth. Browns and greens, dark leather furniture. It still had rich guy vibes, though.

My pussy felt raw. Sore but still wet. How was I going to handle one more cock?

I made my way to the shower. It was another luxurious one. But with darker tile. I stepped in and showered, running cool water over my aching entrance. I scrubbed myself clean with soap that smelled like lavender.

I looked at the card on the bathroom counter and read it:

Wear the nightie. No shoes. No underwear. Leave your hair down.

I made my way out and found the closet with the nightie. It was white silk. Soft to the touch. I stopped for a moment and wondered-what would happen if I did not follow the instructions. I decided against it.

After all, I had liked being a good girl. I felt myself growing wet with desire.

I heard a familiar knock at the door and opened it to find the assistant there. She gave a blank smiled and turned. I followed her.

We went into the elevator and she hit the button. The third floor from the top. I stood there in my bare feet, my vagina now feeling a bit better after my shower.

I wasn’t sure if I could take another big cock. But I wanted to.

I was soon sitting on the edge of the last bed, blindfolded, as the door shut behind the assistant. Awhile later it opened and closed again.

I sat there, waiting.

“Bend over,” the voice said.

“I-” I mumbled. His sudden command had startled me.

Then I felt rough hands on my waist and he spun me around. He gently pushed the back of my head down and my face was now lying flat against the mattress.

He grunted and pulled on my waist. My ass now lifted.

Doggy style.

I had only ever seen it in porn. It was probably vanilla for most people-but for me…

I felt myself growing wet. I felt rough hands lifting the nightie, revealing my slick petals.

“Did anyone else fuck you from behind?” he asked. His voice was serious. Unemotional. But sexy as hell.

“No,” I said. “Are you going to?”

“Yes,” he answered flatly.

Feeling brave, I shuffled backwards and wiggled my ass slowly. Then the sting came. Hard and fast.

I cried out, the pain only making my desire burn hotter.

“Do it again.” He ordered. I obeyed, wiggling my ass just a little.

I felt his hands on my bare ass, squeezing, massaging, rubbing.

“Good girl.” He grunted. I felt his fingers tracing the outside of my vagina. Slowly. Then he slipped them inside as I moaned in ecstasy.

“Taste.” He said. Before I could even speak, his fingers were in my mouth. I sucked on them, tasting myself as he let out a small moan. Then he pulled his fingers back.

I felt the tip of his dick at my opening. Teasing me.

“Tell me you want it.” He said, his voice demanding that I respond.

“I want it.” I said quickly, wiggling my ass again.

Smack.

Another slap.

“Like you mean it.” He ordered. “Or I will leave.”

I sucked in.

“I want you to fuck me-please!”

Then he pushed into me, our moans mixing together. But he moved more slowly than I expected. In and out. He felt big. Really big.

“You like it?” He said, continuing his motions, his hands gripping my waist.

I moved backwards, pressing myself against him, deepening the pleasure. We both groaned.

“I love it.” I said, my voice breaking. “It’s so big. God.”

He growled. Like some sort of savage animal.

And then he began to slam into me. “Your pussy is so tight.” My mouth fell open in shock as he continued, his fingers finding my clit, rubbing it until it peaked. Sweat dripping down my forehead.

He fucked me so hard that I fell all the way forward, flat on my stomach. He growled again and pulled me back up.

“You have to learn how to take it.” He moaned, his fingers digging into my waist.

“I will…” I moaned. “Like a good slut.”

“That’s right.” He said. I felt another sting on my ass.

He continued to pound into me. It was painful. But the pleasure was worth it. I felt his cock vibrating, twitching. I knew by now what that meant.

We exploded at the same time.

“Fuck!” I screamed, gripping tightly to the sheets.

I felt him cum inside of me. A familiar warm feeling.

He slid out of me. But unlike the other two. He left without aword. So I laid there after my third orgasm, filled with his cum. My pussy hurt. Like really hurt.

Would I do it all again?

Absolutely.

I took my blindfold off and sat up. This was by far the most lavish of all of the rooms. It had wall-to-wall bookshelves full of books. It had been decorated with antique furniture and eclectic décor. I showered and this time, when I went to the closet, I found the clothes that I had arrived in. I slipped them on.

I opened the door and there she was, the assistant.

At this point, we didn’t need words. I just followed her back into the elevator. She led down to the lobby and to the front exit. My mind was racing. Not only had I lost my virginity, had the absolute daylights fucked out of me by three giant cocks, I was also a millionaire now.

“Same time tomorrow.” She said blankly.

I froze.

“What?”

She looked at me strangely, “Here. Tomorrow. Same time.”

“I thought it was a one-time thing.” I said, my stomach dropping.

She sighed, “Dr Vale did say that you didn’t read the contract. Do yourself a favor and go home-and read it.”

I did exactly what she had suggested. I hopped into the black car that had delivered me here and made my way back to my apartment. I walked in and grabbed my laptop before getting comfortable on the couch. I opened the contract. And this time I really read it.

I gasped when I saw it.

CONTRACT IS VALID FOR 30 DAYS FROM THE DAY IT IS SIGNED.

PARTIES MAY REQUEST SERVICES AT ANY TIME, ON ANY DAY.

IF SIGNEE FAILS TO APPEAR, THE CONTRACT IS VOIDED.

My jaw dropped.

Thirty days?

Of nothing but being fucked by all three of them?

But something about it excited her.

Chapter 6

I watched as the elevator doors slid open.

And there she stood. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

The Bitch on Level 28.

I groaned internally but still put on my brightest smile. If my million-dollar arrangement ended before the thirty days was finished, I would still need this job.

I would still need electricity for that matter.

“Why does it take you so long?” she hissed, eyes flashing. “You would think that you were paid well enough to walk a bit faster.”

“You called…” I looked down at my phone screen. “Exactly five minutes ago.”

She just glared at me and then pointed. I turned my head. There it was. That stupid fucking printer. I walked over and looked at it. It was as if they were all a bunch of primal monkeys and the machine hurt their brains just a little too much.

A red light was flashing on it. A paper jam. A small alarm was beeping. It was out of paper.

I sighed and opened the side door of the printer, clearing the jam with one swift movement. Then, I grabbed a ream of paper and placed it in the lower paper tray.

The lights disappeared, and the printer hummed back to life, immediately spitting out a stack of papers.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The bitch said, now standing next to me.

“Nope, not at all,” I said, my voice laced with a bit too much sarcasm.

“You need to watch your tone when you come up here,” she said, her voice low. Then she spun on her heel and made her way back to her office.

I sighed with relief when she disappeared. “Thank fuck,” I whispered under my breath.

Now I could go back to my dungeon and forget she existed. I smiled as my eyes drifted to a nearby window.

I was daydreaming about…them. Their hands. Their cocks. The way-

“You.”

A voice broke me from my thoughts. Flat. Authoritative.

I looked around and then turned.

Holy shit.

He was…hot. Like…really hot.

The sort of hot you see on the cover of Forbes or Thirty Under Thirty. Tall with thick hair that looked intentionally wind-blown. Green eyes piercing into mine.

He wore a tailored grey blazer over a white button up shirt, the top two buttons undone. Styled like a model.

I akwardly held out a finger and pointed at my chest, “Me?”

“Yes, you.” He said, his face flat and voice of emotion.

“Yes…?” I was trying my best not to stutter. The audacity of this man to be so attractive…

He pointed at the printer, “I just need to get that stack of papers.”

“Oh.” I said, my mouth going dry. There was something familiar about his voice.

“I am so sorry!” someone called from across the room. “I was just about to pick up your printing, you didn’t have to come down here!”

I turned to see a small blonde in a tight pencil skirt making her way over to us. She came to a sudden stop, wobbling slightly thanks to ger three inch heels.

She smiled at him, her smile was polite-and a bit ‘you should cheat on your wife’. I could tell straight away. She was into him.

She turned to me for a few fleeting seconds, “Thanks for the repair.”

I smiled, “It wasn’t actually a repair-“

But she wasn’t listening, instead she was scooping up the pile of papers. Then she shuffled over to him, “I will pop these on your desk.”

She wobbled off, turning back to flash a bright smile one last time.

I gave the man a nod before heading back towards the elevator. I stepped inside and turned to press ‘B’ for the basement. A hand shot out, grabbing onto one of the doors, stopping it from closing.

A figure appeared in between the doors.

“Going up?” It was the man from before. The God.

I shook my head, a small shiver trickling along my spine, “Down.”

“Too bad.” He said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I needed to go to the very top floor.”

Who was that?

The doors slid shut.

---

I arrived at the hotel wearing a short black dress and gold heels. My hair was in a neat bun. This time I was asked to wear diamond studded earrings. And the best part? The note had said: Keep them as a gift.

If this deal fell apart, I could still get a few months rent out of selling them.

I had ready gone upstairs to the top floor with the assistant. When we reached the door, I turned to her as she held out the blindfold.

“What’s your name?”

“Nora,” she said. “Put this on.”

I smiled and took the blindfold, securing it over my eyes. Then she let me in and I sat on the bed. She left.

I sat there, my hands resting on the silk sheets. My heart was pounding. But it wasn’t fear. It was excitement. What would the Curator do to me tonight?

I heard the door open and shut. Then footsteps. But this time…

It wasn’t just one pair of footsteps.

“Hello sweetheart.” I heard a voice say.

The Curator.

“You look beautiful.” Another said.

Dr Creed.

“Lay back Sloane.”

Vale.

I sucked in. All three of them?

I felt a hand on my cheek, “Calm down Vale. She’s never had three men at once. She might not be ready.”

“She will do as she is told,” Vale grunted. Then I felt it, he was tugging my head back, a fistful of my hair in his hand.

“Easy.” The Curator said.

I felt soft kisses on my neck now.

“Would you like that?” Dr Creed murmred. “Do you want all three of us to fuck you Sloane?”

Vale was still holding onto my hair, while the Curator’s hand was slipping under my dress, his fingers searching for my panties. He found them and he pulled them off of me before slipping them aside.

I sucked in. Then, I felt Vale tug on my hair again. I yelped.

“Dr Creed asked you a question,” Vale said, his other hand now reaching down to unzip the back of my dress. “Answer.”

“Yes,” I managed to croak out.

“Use your manners,” Dr Creed said. He was pulling my dress down causing my tits to fall from my dress. He reached down and cupped one in his hand before his mouth found my nipple.

“P-please,” I moaned as his tongue flicked along the top of my nipple.

“Try harder. Beg.” Vale said, his hand still tugging my hair. Something about the way he spoke aroused me even further.

I reached one arm out, until I found it. Vale’s massive cock. Warm. Thick. Hard.

He moaned as I stroked it. Slowly.

“I want you. All of you.” I said, moaning deeply as Dr Creed continued to suck on my nipple. I was still stroking Vale who continued to moan and pulse under my hand.

“You’re such a good girl Sloane,” The Curator said. “Stand up.”

Vale and Dr Creed pulled away from me and I stood.

“Come here,” The Curator ordered. I felt Vale’s arms on mine, guiding me. “Lean over.”

I pushed my hands forward. They landed on a wooden flat surface. The dressar. I felt hands on my body as they stripped me of my clothing.

I stood there, leaned over the dressar, my bare ass sticking out. Wet and ready.

I felt hands on my waist,

“Are you ready baby?” The Curator asked, his fingers at my entrance, slipping between my petals. I let out a soft sigh.

Then I felt it. A hard sting. It also completely undid me.

“Answer him.” It was Vale.

“Yes, please. Now.” I leaned further forward and spread my legs further apart.

I felt The Curator press the tip of his dick into the entrance of my pussy. Then, he took hold of both sides of my waist and pushed in.

We moaned in unison, the sounds of our pleasure mixing together. His dick was warm and heavy inside of me. I was sore from the previous night but he moved slowly. As if testing . Seeing how much I could handle.

“Does it hurt?” Came a voice next to my ear. Dr Creed.

“A little,” I moaned and gasped. “But I can handle it.”

Author’s Note:

If you enjoyed this chapter, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments 🖤

Your feedback means a lot!

Chapter 7

The Curator groaned as he pushed deeper, increasing the speed of his pumps. My mouth fell open as the pleasure consumed me, the dresser slamming into the wall, in rhythm with his movements.

Each time he fucked me, I felt closer to God. It felt too good to be true.

“You take it like a good slut,” I heard Dr Creed say, his fingers finding my clit. He began rubbing it.

“Oh God,” I moaned. “Don’t stop. Please!”

“Move over,” Vale grunted.

The Curator slowed his motions and leaned down to nip at my earlobe, before pulling out of me.

“Fuck me,” Vale ordered, his dick just outside my entrance. I felt his hands grip onto the sides of my waist. “Now.”

“Ok-“ I said, preparing to push myself back on his massive cock.

“Yes sir,” he corrected me.

“Yes sir,” I said before letting out a moan as I pushed myself backwards, his big dick sliding into my wetness with ease.

I rocked back and forth, still gripping the dresser.

“Just me,” he said.

“Vale…”The Curator said.

“You have to share,” Dr Creed said sternly.

“Fuck off,” Vale growled. Then he gripped my waist and pulled me back towards him. Over and over again. My ass cheeks were bouncing as he fucked me, a sloshing sound filling the air as he pushed into my entrance.

“So tight,” he moaned, going even faster now.

“I didn’t know she had such a big ass,” I heard Dr Creed say. “Big ass. Small waist. Perfect pussy.”

There was something about it. Something about the way they spoke about me like I was some sort of sex toy.

I loved it.

Then I felt it. My orgasm. “I’m gonna-“ I gasped. “I-“

“That ass,” Vale moaned. Then, I exploded all over his dick, the ecstasy rattling my body.

Vale groaned as I tightened around him before coming to a slow stop.

I whimpered, my face lying on the dresser as I tried to recover from my orgasm

But there was no recovery time.

“Come on sweetheart,” It was Dr Creed,

He slid into me without hesitation and I gasped. He pumped hard and fast. I felt fingers on my clit. A hand pulling my hair. One slapping my thigh. Another clutching my breast.

I moaned, louder and deeper than ever before.

“Good or bad?” Dr Creed asked.

“Both.” I moaned.

He pumped a few more times and pulled away. And then I felt it. The Curator was back inside me.

And they did that for several moments. Fucked me against the dresser, taking turns. Stopping before they came.

And I leaned over that dresser and took every hard inch of them.

Vale would fuck me as his nails dug into my skin. Dr Creed would rub my clit. The Curator was more sensual, guiding my motions and asking about my pain.

“Put her on the bed,” The Curator said.

I soon found myself in the middle of the bed. Their hands guiding me onto my back.

Dr Creed kneeled next to me on the bed. My hands reached out to touch him. I felt rock hard abs and then muscular thighs. Then my hand was soon on his cock, stroking as he moaned.

The Curator was between my legs. He lifted my ankles and rested them on his shoulders before pushing inside of me.

Vale had his fingers on my clit and his tongue on my breasts.

Licking, sucking, fucking. It was all too much.

Another orgasm washed over me and I let out an ear piercing scream. Vale rubbed me harder and The Curator pushed even deeper before he exploded inside of me. He moaned, long and deep.

I continued to stroke Dr Creed and then Vale straddled me. Then he propped himself up on his knees before hovering over me.

I reached up. Perfectly smooth muscular chest. Broad shouldered.

I felt his large hands reach for my breasts and then, he pushed them together. Then slipped his dick in between my tits.

He rocked back and forth, sighing.

“What-“ I began to ask.

“Shut up Sloane,” he said sternly. “I’m titty fucking you.”

I felt a slap, “Be a good slut Sloane.” The Curator ordered.

Like a good little pet, I fell into silence.

“God. Can’t we just put our cocks in her mouth?” Vale grunted.

“Reel it in Vale,” The Curator said calmly.

Then I felt Dr Creed throbbing before he exploded. I soon felt bits of warmth splashing down the side of my leg.

Vale was next, his dick pulsing before he orgasmed. He pulled back and released, his cum spraying across my tits.

He groaned loudly and then I felt his hands. Smearing the cum along the tops of my breasts. Like he was marking me or something.

“Sexy,” he murmured.

Then I heard the Curator, “Have a good evening Sloane.”

“Bye Sloane.” Dr Creed said.

Vale was silent. The door closed.

I lay there, covered in cum, still blindfolded and wondering why I had just had the best night of my life.

---

The next day came quickly. I was in the basement-err the tech support office-spinning in my chair. I was replaying the feeling of Vale rubbing his cum on my breasts.

My phone buzzed. I opened it. Someone had texted me.

Where have you been lately? Long time no talk.

I smiled. It was Georgie, my best friend. And probably my only friend.

We had met as kids in second grade. On the day that Georgie found me, I was half buried in a trashcan where a group of bullies had thrown me in. She’d pulled a banana peel out of my hair. After that, we were best friends.

Just been flooded with work stuff.

I waited for her reply.

Bullshit. That job is easy as hell. You’re bored there.

I sent a shrugging emoji.

Whatever Sloane. I was texting about that job ad that just went up for you company. Is Steve leaving?

I scrunched my brow.

I don’t think so.

“Hey Steve, are you quitting?” I said to his back. He was sitting in his desk, clicking desperately on his mouse as his warlock shot a wave of light at a goblin.

“Like quitting this job?” he said, his eyes on his screen.

“Yes, this job.” I rolled my eyes.

“Absolutely not,” he replied. “I get paid to game all day because the people who work here are helpless.”

I looked down at my phone and sent a text back to Georgie.

He’s not leaving.

She replied quickly.

Maybe they need another tech support person?

I laughed. We didn’t need help here. We more than managed.

The phone rang and I turned to grab it. “IT support. Sloane speaking.”

“I need help with this fucking Google doc.”

I groaned internally. Not the Bitch on Level 28 again.

“Sure thing, I will come right up.” I said politely. I hung up the phone and swore under my breath as I stood up.

I heard Steve chuckle.

“Oh fuck you Steve,” I said.

I made my way to the elevator and pressed the button for the 28th floor. I arrived and made my way over to her office. The door was already open, so I stepped inside.

She was sitting there, looking pissed as hell, staring at her computer screen. “What the fuck is wrong with this computer?”

I walked over and she did not so much as even glance in my direction. I peered over her shoulder.

RESTRICTED ACCESS. PLEASE ASK THE CREATOR OF THE DOCUMENT TO GRANT YOU ACCESS.

God, she sucked…

“So,” I began slowly, as if I were talking to a toddler. You need to ask the person who created the document to grant you access.”

“How the hell do I know who created it?” she laughed. “How the fuck are you qualified?”

I sighed, “Who sent it to you?”

“Jeff,” she said, as if I knew who he was.

“So e-mail Jeff and ask him to grant you access,” I said, turning to walk away.

“What? Can’t you just give me access?” She roared, standing to her feet.

I took a step back, “No, because I did not create it.”

“Well, then why can’t you e-mail Jeff for me?” she crossed her arms over her chest.

God, I hated her so much.

“Because,” I said, trying to hide the irritation in my voice. “I am not your secretary.”

She smiled. As if she had won something.

“And this is exactly why you are getting fired.”

Chapter 8

She just smirked at me and shrugged.

“What the hell is your problem?” I spat. “And you’re not my supervisor — how can you fire me?”

“Get out,” she said flatly.

“Fuck you!” I yelled.

She gasped, her mouth dropping open. I left, slamming the door behind me and ignoring the heads that turned to look.

I made my way back down to the basement and slid into my chair. I saw Steve’s head turn to look at me. “What was that about?” he asked.

“That bitch said I am getting fired!” I yelled, my hands slamming onto the top of my desk.

Steve shrugged. “She’s not our boss.”

Ding.

A new text. I tapped my phone screen.

Sloane,

We are unavailable for a few days. However, I expect to see you this weekend.

Just you and I.

The Curator

I swallowed. Just one of them? That was different. I felt my lips tug into a smile.

“Although she did get that one guy fired,” I heard Steve say, now looking at his screen again. “After she broke the printer and blamed him.”

“What?” I said, spinning my chair to face him.

“Yeah,” he said. “The guy you replaced.”

I sighed.

I fucking hated it here.

---

Later that day, Georgie leaned over her bubble tea and narrowed her eyes at me. “So… why have you basically gone missing?”

I shrugged, stirring my drink with a straw. “I just got a bit busy, that’s all.”

We had met up for bubble tea after she threatened to report me as a missing person to the police.

She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Busy doing what? All you do is go to that shithole job, surf the dark web and hang out with me.”

When she said ‘dark web’ I felt my heart beat a bit faster as I pictured the ad.

“So what are you hiding from me?” she said, eyes suspicious.

“It really is nothing,” I said with a smile. There was no way I was going to tell her that I had signed a million-dollar deal and sold off my virginity to three strangers on the dark web.

“Is it that job? Is it making you depressed?” Georgie continued to probe. “You graduated top of your class in college. At a school that only accepts 10% of their applicants. I know you’re bored there. You really need to get into something that challenges you.”

I shrugged. “I’m still not sure what I want to do.”

Georgie sighed. “You have the hacking skills to work for the government or to code some sort of unbreakable software.”

“I guess,” I said, sucking the last bit of tea out of my cup.

“I give up,” she said, leaning back in her chair and rolling her eyes.

My phone buzzed. I groaned when I saw the notification.

“That must be your dad,” she said, leaning forward to look.

I nodded but didn’t open the message. “He wants money to hire a lawyer. As if I possibly have that.”

Her face was full of pity as she leaned forward and softly placed her hand on mine. “He does it to himself. It’s not your problem.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, pushing my chair back and standing.

We left the restaurant and headed to my apartment. We plopped down on the couch and flicked the TV on. Georgie insisted we watch the latest season of The Voice. I groaned, but allowed it. She was obsessed.

Just as we were in the middle of watching a fifteen-year-old belt out a Mariah Carey-level note, my phone dinged.

I tapped the notification. A new email.

Subject: Termination of Employment

Dear Sloane,

I wanted to inform you that, after careful consideration, the organization has made the difficult decision to eliminate your position as part of a broader staffing adjustment. This decision was not made lightly, and it reflects organizational restructuring rather than your individual performance or contributions.

Your dedication and effort during your time with us have been greatly appreciated. We recognize the value you brought to the team, and this decision in no way diminishes your professional capabilities or commitment.

This decision is effective immediately. You will receive an email shortly from our HR Department regarding your last payment.

We sincerely thank you for your work and wish you every success in your future endeavors.

Warm regards,

Sally Shrevan

HR Manager, BD Systems

My heart sank.

“No fucking way,” I gasped. “I’m totally screwed.”

Georgie was only half listening. “Huh?” She was too busy watching a woman butcher a Miley Cyrus song, shaking her head in disbelief.

“The Bitch on Level 28,” I yelled as I sprung to my feet.

Georgie turned her head toward me and scrunched her brow. “The one who thought that the BCC on her emails meant ‘Be Careful, Copy’?”

“Yes, that one,” I said, re-reading the email to make sure I had not gone insane. “She got me fired.”

“What?” Georgie gasped. “How? She’s not your boss?”

“I don’t know!” I said, throwing my phone to the ground with a thud. “But I won’t make rent! Or electric!”

“I can try to help, Sloane—” she began, standing and reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder.

I cut her off. “This is not your problem. Besides, you are scraping for money too.”

Georgie turned the TV off and sat with me for a few hours while I swore to burn down BD Systems and murder the bitch while she slept. After she convinced me not to commit murder, she left to go home.

I lay in my bed, fuming. How was I going to avoid becoming homeless? My deal with The Curator was not complete yet and I couldn’t rely on it.

I tossed and turned until sleep finally found me.

---

The next morning, I awoke with an idea.

I sat up and ran to my closet, reached to the top shelf and found the box — the box with the gold earrings I had been asked to wear the last time I went to the hotel.

This was my only hope. It was disappointing, but I would have to sell them; they might save me. I didn’t know shit about jewelry.

I left my apartment and went for a walk. Being carless really made life hard. But after a 45-minute walk that felt like an eternity, I had finally reached it: the jewelry store.

I’d made my way to a nicer part of town to make sure I wasn’t ripped off by some pawn-shop hillbilly who would give me only half the value for it.

I walked up to the front door where a security guard eyed me as I walked inside. It was one of those rich-people jewelry stores where they put on gloves before they take out the jewelry and offer you wine.

I was approached immediately.

“Good afternoon,” an employee said, wearing a perfectly pressed black shirt and slacks. “How can I help?”

Her voice was flat and her eyes suspicious. I probably didn’t look like their typical clientele with my frizzy, sweaty hair, Converse, ripped jean shorts, and t-shirt.

“I wanted to look at selling these,” I said, holding out the box. She looked unimpressed but took the box from my hands and opened it.

Her eyebrows rose. “Is this Cartier?”

I had no fucking clue, but I shook my head.

“It better not be a knock-off,” she sighed, her gaze drifting to my outfit.

I wanted to snap her neck, but I only laughed. “It’s not.”

She went behind a counter and pulled out a pair of jeweler’s loupes. She placed them to her eyes and held the jewelry up to her face, turning it slowly in her hands.

“They look brand-new,” she said. “Have you even worn them?”

“Only once,” I said.

“Why do you want to sell them?” she asked, bringing one stud closer to her loupe.

“An ex gave them to me,” I lied. Definitely not one of the rich men who paid for my virginity. Not one of the men who took turns fucking me like—

I had to stop myself. Stop myself from imagining it.

She removed the jeweler’s loupe and looked at me. “I wish my ex had bought me Cartier. All he left me with was a kid and a house loan.”

I laughed and stepped closer to look down at the stud in her hand. “Any idea what the value is? Interested in buying it?”

“I’m happy to give you $20,000 if you have proof of authenticity,” she said, placing the studs neatly into their box. “They’re in great condition.”

“You—I…” I stumbled over my words. “I don’t know if there is one.”

Twenty thousand?!

She looked back down at the box. “Did you check inside the box? Under the earrings?”

I shook my head.

She opened the box again and pulled out the compartment that held the earrings. Then she pulled out a small bit of folded paper. She read it and smiled. “Yup, here it is. So are you happy to proceed?”

“Where do I sign?” I grinned.

Chapter 9

I stared at the numbers in my bank account, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

After paying my overdue electricity bill, three months of student loans, a parking ticket, my phone bill, and my late rent, I still had $15,000 left over.

I felt a twinge of guilt for selling the earrings. But what would they care? They were obviously loaded — and it had been a gift, after all. I was already scrolling through Facebook Marketplace, eyeing a few cheap cars. Anything that could get me from point A to point B would do.

I sent a message to a man selling a rusted blue Honda Civic, then shut my laptop.

Tonight was my night with The Curator.

A knock sounded at my door. As expected, a man in a black suit stood there, holding a dress draped over a hanger, a small box, and an envelope.

“Good evening, Miss Heathrow,” he said, offering the items. “The Curator asked that I give these to you.”

“Thanks,” I said awkwardly. What else was I supposed to say?

He gave a curt nod and left. I shut the door behind him, draped the dress over a chair, and carried the envelope and box to the counter. I opened the envelope eagerly. Inside was a pair of green silk underwear and a letter.

Sloane,

Wear the dress.

And the earrings we gave you.

A car will arrive at 8 p.m.

Tardiness is not accepted.

— The Curator

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “Fuck, fuck.”

Why hadn’t I thought this might happen? I bit my lip, trying to think of a solution.

I would have to fake it — wear a different pair and hope he didn’t notice.

“Goddammit,” I groaned. What if I’d ruined the entire deal?

I rummaged through my bathroom drawers until I found an old, cheap pair of fake studs Georgie had once left behind. They didn’t sparkle like Cartier, but maybe he wouldn’t notice.

I slipped on the silk dress. It was stunning — deep green, smooth as water, trailing down to the floor. You’d think I was going to a gala.

I hadn’t been given any instructions for hair or makeup, so I left my hair down, styling it in loose waves, and added a touch of red lipstick. I framed my blue eyes with a dark mascara. Inside the box, I found a pair of glittering gold heels and slid them on.

Finally, I left my apartment, hobbling down the stairs in the heels. A black BMW waited outside, its insignia gleaming under the streetlights.

I slid into the back seat. The interior smelled like leather and polish. The driver didn’t speak. After a short ride, we arrived — but this wasn’t the Diamond Montgomery.

It was an apartment complex. A very different kind from mine. My building was chipped brick and warped wood, where you had to watch for used needles and the rabid alleyway raccoon.

This place was sleek and modern, all glass and steel, with windows that reflected the city skyline. The kind of apartments that looked more like entire houses than units.

I stepped out of the car and spotted Nora waiting on the sidewalk. She was composed as always — professional, unreadable. I wondered how much they paid her. Probably well. After all, she helped them with their little side arrangements.

“Miss Heathrow,” Nora greeted with a nod.

“Hey, Nora,” I said, half-wobbling toward her in my heels.

“Just as we do at the Diamond Montgomery,” she began, “I’ll give you a blindfold. But this time, you’ll need to put it on before we go up.”

“Why?” I asked.

She didn’t answer, only turned toward the building. I sighed and followed. The Curator must live here, I realized. He didn’t want me knowing which floor — hence the early blindfold.

We walked into the front foyer. It was sleek and modern, with polished concrete floors and soft, recessed lighting. A sculptural pendant hung above like a piece of art.

It was the kind of place you’d see on a reality show about celebrity families arguing over who gets the master suite on vacation.

Nora waved to the security guard and front desk receptionist, who nodded as we passed. She rounded a corner, and we stopped in front of a sleek elevator.

“They know to keep this area clear until we’re upstairs,” she said, tapping a card against the panel.

“Why?” I smiled. “Would people find it odd to see someone blindfolded?”

She didn’t answer, just held out the blindfold. I slipped it on, the darkness strangely familiar. She took my arm as the elevator doors opened, guiding me inside.

The elevator ascended endlessly — or maybe it just felt that way.

Then it stopped.

“Thank you, Nora,” a deep voice said.

My heart skipped. It was The Curator.

“Have a good evening,” Nora replied.

I felt a large, warm hand take mine, guiding me forward as the elevator doors closed behind us.

His scent wrapped around me like a warm blanket. Fresh. Clean. A spritz of cologne. He was still pulling on me. We eventually stopped and I heard him open a door.

“Where are we going?” I said, as I felt his hand reach for my lower back, pushing me forward. It set my body on fire. The feeling of his palm, the heat radiated off of it. “Do you live here?”

“Sloane,” he said, his voice slightly amused. “You know you’re not meant to ask those sorts of questions.”

He was right. After finally reading that contract, it had been pretty clear that I was not permitted to know any personal details about any of them. I heard the door shut behind us.

“I will tell you this,” he said, his voice low. “We are in a bedroom.” I felt him push me forward and I squealed in surprise as my back hit a wall.

His body pressed against mine, heavy and hot. I reached up and ran my hands through his hair. Desperate to know what he looked like. His hair was thick and soft on the top and clean cut along the sides. His hands were on one of my wrists and then I felt him placing something around it.

“What are you doing?” I asked, attempting to pull my wrist down.

“Don’t you fucking move Sloane,” he said, pinning my wrist against the wall and securing something tightly around it.

Rope. I was certain it was. I felt him tug on it and I winced. The rope bit against my skin and burned. He was reaching for my other wrist now and he pulled a rope tightly around it, the friction causing me to cry out.

But God, I was hornier than ever.

“Where are the earrings Sloane?” I heard him say. His voice was deep and dangerous. I felt his big hands grab my waist and twist my body to the side. “I…” I stuttered. “I lost them.”

He was pulling my dress up with one hand. He revealed my ass in the green lace panties he had chosen.

Smack.

He slapped my ass. Hard. I cried out in pain. But it was wrapped in pleasure.

He pushed my back against the wall again. Then his hands reached for the straps of the dress and he began pulling it off of me. I heard the fabric stretch and rip before falling to the floor.

Then his body was on mine again. He brought his mouth to my ear.

“Tell me the truth Sloane.” he murmured. I felt him reach for my panties and slip his hand under them. He pressed his thumb into my vagina. I moaned softly.

“More,” I begged. “Please.”

He moved it in and out slowly as my pussy throbbed. Then he withdrew his thumb and ran it along my labia, the fabric of my panties stretching under his movements.

“Fuck me,” I croaked, thrusting my hips towards him.

“No.” He said sternly. He pressed two fingers in me this time and I whimpered.

“Please,” I pleaded. “Just a little.”

“Mmm,” he said, his fingers still moving in and out. “So soft and wet. Still so tight.”

“I’m begging,” I sighed, spreading my legs. “Please sir.”

He pulled his fingers away and stepped back. “Oh Sloane. This is not how it works. You have lied to me. Liars are not rewarded. They are punished.”

Chapter 10

“Fine,” I whined. “I sold them.”

“Now, why would you do that?” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

“I was behind on rent and electricity,” I said. Internally, I groaned. This was not sexy.

“Was that all?” I felt his hand reach for my bra. Like some sort of pro-sex Olympian, he managed to unlatch it and pull it off in one single movement.

“And my phone bill and my student loans,” I said quickly. My words seemed to be working. God, I wanted him to fuck me.

“Anything else?” he purred. Then he twisted my bare nipple and I yelped as it stung with pain.

“I also got fired.” I moaned. “That’s everything.”

There was a moment of silence. Neither of us spoke or moved. Then, I felt his hand slip back into my panties and he pressed his thumb back into my vagina. Teasing me. I felt myself grow slicker and wetter.

“You will be punished,” he said, his voice flat and commanding. I was wiggling under him, desperate for his cock.

“Turn around Sloane,” He commanded. I felt him reach up and loosen the ropes on my hands. I was still tied up but I could move more freely. “Face the wall.”

Surprisingly, there was enough rope slack and I was able to turn and press my cheek to the wall. Then I felt him reach up and tighten the ropes of my wrists again. I wiggled slightly. I was tied tightly in place.

I heard him remove his clothing as it fell to the floor with a soft thud. I heard him come closer and press himself against my back. Solid, lean, hard muscle.

And a big hard cock pressed against my ass.

His mouth was on my neck, “You need to learn a lesson. You need to understand that I own you Sloane.”

I felt him reach down to my panties and slip his hand into the front of them. His finger traced the outline of my lips and I inhaled.

“Fuck, you are soaking.” he said, his voice husky against my ear.

Then, he pulled my panties to the side, revealing my bare ass. He held them to the side with one hand. Then he brought his other hand to my waist before pressing the tip of his dick into my entrance.

Then he rammed so hard inside of me that it knocked the breath out of me. Then he pulled out and back in. Pumping into me at full strength.

I could barely inhale as he pushed in and out of me, my chest scraping against the wall, his movements causing me to slide forward and then backwards. His thick warm cock was sending intense pleasure down my spine.

I felt him slap my ass. Not once, not twice. Over and over again. Sting after sting as I cried out. He stretched my vagina with each thrust, grunting as he plunged deeper and deeper.

“I want you to feel this tomorrow,” he groaned between thrusts. “So you can remember that you belong to me. That you do what I tell you to.”

“Oh God!” I groaned, his hard cock sliding in and out with ease.

He slowed down for a few moments and began rocking his hips slowly, groaning as his nails dug deeper into my skin. Then he reached for my hair and pulled my head back.

It hurt. But fuck it felt good.

“Every time you feel your sore pussy, you will think of this,” he said, his breathing ragged. “You will remember.”

Then he let go of my head and pushed it forward, pressing it back against the wall. He leaned forward, still thrusting, his hand now finding my clitoris. He rubbed it, moving in small circles.

“Please,” I begged. My voice cracking from the pleasure.

“What do you want?” he asked, in between his thrusts.

“Eat my pussy,” I whined. “Please.”

“Now, now Sloane,” I could hear him smiling. “That is against the rules. We all agreed. No pussy eating and no kissing on the mouth.”

“I thought you owned me?” I said, shocked at my own audacity.

I heard him growl as he slapped my ass cheek so hard, I knew he had left a mark. “I do.”

I swallowed, gathering the courage to defy him, “Then prove it. I won’t tell.”

I felt his movements slow and his chest press against my back again. His mouth was at my ear.

“We made a deal,” he nipped at my earlobe, causing me to arch my back. “We share this perfect pussy.”

“So I belong to all three of you,” I said, flatly.

“Not when we’re alone,” he breathed, his mouth moving to my neck where he began to suck softly on my skin.

“I don’t believe you,” I replied. He instantly pulled back from me. I felt his hands removing the ropes on my wrist. I dropped my arms.

Was he going to make me leave…or?

I felt his hands on my waist and he spun me around to face him. Then he lifted me. His arms wrapped tightly around me, my wet pussy pressed against his rock hard stomach. He dropped me on something hard. I reached down and felt a metal chair.

Then, I felt him kneel in front of me.

“Spread your legs like a good slut Sloane,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.” I said, spreading my legs…like a good slut.

“Don’t tell Vale or Dr Creed. Understand?” he said, his voice stern.

“I understand.” I reached for his head, my hands sliding into his thick hair.

I felt his breath on my inner thigh and I sucked in.

“If you do,” he kissed my skin. It was still sticky and wet from our fucking. “I will cancel the contract.”

I felt him lick my inner thigh and moan, “Mmm, you taste good.”

His fingers found my lips and he traced t up and down their length, then I felt his breath as he leaned forward. I was already shaking, desperate for his tongue. Then I felt it. His tongue flicked against my clit.

He started slowly and then fast, each flick of his tongue sending a short wave of pleasure straight to my pussy. I could hear his tongue lapping at my now throbbing clit.

I gripped onto his hair, “Fuck. Oh God.”

He moaned against my pussy, his hands finding my thighs. He gripped onto them tightly. Aggressively.

“You…ah.” I gasped. “You own me!”

Then I exploded all over his mouth, my head dropped backwards and my mouth fell open as I let out an ear-piercing pleasure-filled scream. And he lapped up every bit of my moisture. Between my lips, on my inner thighs.

When he was done, he pressed his lips against my thigh and murmured, “Your pussy tastes amazing.”

I sat there, still shrouded in darkness. Panting. My pussy juices all over this man’s chair. A man I had never seen. A man who just punished me for selling the $20,000 earrings he gave me.

“Now,” he said as I heard him reposition and stand, before he pulled on my wrists, forcing me to stand and face him. “I am going to fuck you again.”

He spun me around and pushed me forward. As I fell, he caught my wrists and guided them. I felt them land on something hard.

“It’s a bedpost,” he said. “Hold on tight sweetheart. I’m about to fuck that tight pussy.”

I stepped backwards, to push my ass out and bend myself forward.

“You’re such a fast learner,” I heard him chuckle, dark and deep. His hands were gripping my ass. “God, the view is…”

He didn’t finish speaking, instead he pushed inside my vagina. He didn’t start slow, instead he fucked me and he fucked me. Hard. Fast.

“Yes!” I screamed. I could hear our skin slapping together as my ass cheeks bounced.

He was already pulsing as he continued. My finger nails were digging into the wood of the bedpost. I was close to another orgasm already.

We continued for several moments, until I could no longer scream. My voice was gone. But his moans grew louder.

And then-we moaned in unison as he exploded inside of me, pushing deep inside and holding himself as he finished. Flooding me with his warmth. My vagina tightened around him and I heard him groan even deeper. My orgasm washed over me. Deep and dirty.

He pulled out of me and I felt his cum drip down my leg. He left me there and returned moments later with a wet cloth that he used to wipe my legs and pussy clean.

I felt his fingers move to my opening and push inside. “Does it hurt? Is it sore?”

“Yes sir,” I nodded, my skin raw and rough. I winced as he pulled his fingers out.

“Good.” I could heard the satisfaction in his voice. “There are fresh clothes next to you. Get dressed. I’ll get Nora to walk you out when you’re done.”

I fumbled for the clothes and put them on. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me. Like a wave of energy I could not see.

“I’m done.” I said, buttoning up the jeans. He had given me a typical outfit for once. A t-shirt and jeans.

I felt his hand tug on mine. It was massive, swallowing my small one whole. “Nora is standing outside the door waiting.”

Before he opened the door, he pulled me towards him, my chest bumping into his, his hands slipping into my hair before taking a fistful of it, his grip tight.

“Don’t forget. You better keep our secret Sloane.”