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by Alexa Riley
Meeting Samantha was a stroke of luck. She was at the private poker game when I came to get my father. I'm guessing she was there to get business from the high rollers for the Mistress Auctions. When she saw me, and the bind I was in, she pulled me to the side and told me how she could help.
She said if I met all the requirements, I’d go up on the auction block and would be given to the highest bidder. She collects a percentage of all sales, but insisted there were lots of rules and guidelines to protect everyone. She told me a few of the rules that first night, and the one that stuck out the most was the virgin clause.
In the agreement, virgins must have their first coupling on the property right after purchase. Maybe they wanted to be sure the girl was really a virgin, but I thought the extensive physical should have proved that. Either way, that rule stuck out in my mind because I knew once the hammer went down on ‘sold’, it was time to pay up and put out. The thought terrified me, and I tried not to dwell on it. If I did, I’d be out the door in three seconds flat.
Samantha looks over all the girls, inspecting every detail, and when she gets to me she stops. She looks me up and down and nods. “You’re first.” Her smile is wicked, and she seems a little smug. “You're going to make me a fucking killing. I’m thinking those two would pay anything.”
I give her a questioning look, thinking someone is already set to bid on me. Maybe they gave out our pictures when people first arrived or something.
“I should’ve put in a decoy to jack up the price,” she mumbles, clearly talking to herself as she walks away.
“Drink it,” Kim says, shoving a glass of champagne in my face.
“I’m not old enough.” I push the glass back from my face, needing to keep my head straight tonight.
“Yeah well, it’s not really legal to sell your virginity either, but here you are. Drink it. It’ll help calm your nerves. You look like you might pass out.”
She’s right. The time has come, and I do feel a little faint. Part of me wants to flee the room, but I’m not sure I can move my feet right now. I take the glass from her hand and drink it in three big gulps. It’s crisp and extra cold, making my eyes water for a second. I take a breath, and I do feel a little better by the time the drink hits my stomach.
“Let’s go.” Samantha’s assistant takes my wrist and pulls me down the short hallway with Samantha leading the way.
I look back over my shoulder, and see Kim mouth ‘good luck’ at me, and I turn back around, trying to keep my feet from tripping over nothing. We stop short of a thick black curtain, and I suddenly feel like I’m in The Wizard of Oz, wondering what’s sitting on the other side of the curtain. I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Red places me dead center in front of the curtain, and then backs herself off to the side. Samantha walks over and pulls some of my dark curls over one shoulder, but makes sure they’re not covering my breasts. The white nightie hides nothing at all, sheer fabric from my breasts down to my mons. Red tried to get me to put a thong on, but I told her it wouldn't look too hot if I was picking my ass the whole time I was on stage. The compromise was no underwear, so I’m sure whoever is on the other side of the curtain is about to see all of me. I feel a chill, and the cold champagne I drank so fast has turned my nipples rock hard, making them easy to see through the thin fabric.
Samantha straightens my appearance, and makes a tutting sound when she looks down at my feet. It’s then I notice I don’t even have any shoes on. Shit, I forgot the stupid heels. Probably for the best anyway, I would likely fall off the stage in them.
“Remember, Stella, this is all for the money. Don’t let them see your fear.”
I nod, and she walks to the side of the stage. A male voice fills my ears, and I know the time has come. “Let’s begin, gentlemen. The girls are ready, and tonight we are starting off with a rare treat. Normally we’d save something like this for last, but I thought we’d give each of you an opportunity to bid before you made other purchases. This rare gem has something you all want.” There’s a pause, and I hear a lot of mumbling. “Tonight I offer you Stella, the twenty-year-old virgin.”
The curtains part.
2
Aaron
Leaning against the back wall, Justin and I wait impatiently for the auction to start. He looks over and smiles at me. He’s so excited, and I can’t help but smile back. This is a moment we’ve been waiting for, and it can’t come soon enough. I start to think about everything it took to get to this point, and how lucky we are.
Getting into the casino business is tough. It’s even tougher when you’re young. People don’t want to take you seriously, but if you’ve got money, suddenly everyone’s your friend. My brother Justin and I have been in the business since we were old enough to work, bussing tables for Antonio Cortez aka Don.
Justin and I were foster kids bouncing all around Nevada. We had a knack for hustling as kids, and it turned out to be useful as we got older. Justin is younger than I am, but only by eleven months. Most people called us Irish twins, though we weren’t related by blood. We were closer than brothers, and being thrown into foster care made us the same in a lot of ways. Neither of us had a family so we became each other’s.
We sometimes ended up in the same grade, but that depended on what school system we were in. After we graduated together and got our high school diplomas, we made our way to Vegas. We knew a guy in our old neighborhood who had connections and got us jobs as busboys at the Gold Peacock casino, right on the strip. It was owned by Don. We got a dirt cheap apartment a few blocks away, and ate ramen noodles for months at a time. We didn’t start out with much, but we knew if we worked hard and met the right people, luck would find us, and we could go places. Justin and I dreamed big, and money motivated our every move.
After about six months at the Gold Peacock, we got our first break. One night six whales flew in for a private poker game. Not a normal private game where they’re roped off in the back and people can still see. No, this was full-on discreet. Nobody in or out, unless completely vetted by Don. Lowly busboys like us wouldn’t have ever known about this event if it wasn’t for a certain whale getting some fresh air.
Justin and I were out back on a break, waiting for our midnight-to-morning shift to start. Justin was leaning back against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette, when a big guy in a suit came out the back. He was on his phone and speaking some language I didn’t recognize. We ignored him because we knew better, and went back to our conversation about betting on the Super Bowl, and bitching about Vegas not having their own team. After a few minutes, the guy walked over and nodded at Justin’s cigarette.
“That Turkish?” The guy’s accent was thick, but he was breathing deep and smelled the spice from Justin’s smoke.
Justin nodded at him and pulled out his pack. He opened it up and offered him his last one. “Tough as shit to get out here, but worth the wait.”
“You only have one left.”
“No worries, man. It’s all you.”
“Thank you.” The guy tipped his head and Justin lit it for him. He took a long pull and closed his eyes, like it had been years since he had one and he was loving the taste. “My wife would kill me if she saw me smoking, but I can’t pass up a Turkish spice like this.”
I laughed and rested my shoulder on the brick wall next to Justin. “We can keep a secret.” It was a throwaway comment, but the guy looked us both up and down for a second as if sizing us up.
“Actually you might be just what I need tonight. I’m in a bit of a bind and I need a runner. You guys got a few minutes before you have to be back in?”
Justin looked at me, and I nodded. We both knew we had about fifteen minutes before we had to be ready for our shift. If we weren’t we’d lose our jobs. Vegas is a big city, but everyone knows everyone. And if you burnt a bridge at a casino like this, all the other casinos on the strip would hear about it. From pit boss to busboy, your reputation and work ethic follow you. I knew this, and I
also knew that this opportunity was a gamble, but we’d been waiting for this kind of opportunity. It was one that could get us in a lot of trouble or it could be one that paid off. Justin nodded back at me, and I looked at the guy. “We’ve got time. What can we help you with?”
The guy smiled at us and gave us instructions on when and where to pick up a package and bring it back. After he gave us the basic details, we made our way out.
We met up at the exchange spot, and I handed over an envelope the guy gave us. The dude in the truck handed us a small box, and we sure as fuck didn’t ask what it was. I took it, stuck it in my back pocket, and we got the fuck out of there.
When we got back to the casino, the guy with the accent and Don were waiting for us in the back of the kitchen. It was just the two of them, and it was intimidating as fuck. Justin and I were thirty minutes late for our shift, and seeing Don there wasn’t a good sign. I didn’t bother with excuses; I just started with an apology. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cortez. My brother and I got caught up on the way to work. It won’t happen again.”
“I come out back to find my good friend Mr. Florence having a smoke, and then the kitchen manager comes out to complain about two guys skipping a night shift. I’m guessing you’re those two guys.”
“Yes, sir. We were running late. I apologize. It won’t ever happen again.” I didn’t make eye contact with Mr. Florence. I didn’t mention the reason for being late, and I pretended like the big fucker wasn’t even in the room. And I absolutely didn’t mention the small box in my back pocket.
Don looked us both over, and then looked back to his friend and nodded. The two of them turned and left the kitchen without saying a word.
Justin looked over at me, and I shrugged. “Let’s get to work.”
Eight hours later it was nearly 9 a.m. and we were done. The graveyard shift sucked, but it’s Vegas and people never really sleep. So even first thing in the morning, the casinos are hopping.
As we made our way out of the kitchen, we spotted Mr. Florence at a table, having breakfast alone. I walked by, casually took the box out of my pocket, slipped it under his napkin, and kept on walking, never breaking my stride.
When we got back to the apartment, we both passed out, and didn’t talk about what happened. We had about six hours before our next shift, and we used the time to sleep.
Later that day, we headed back to the Gold Peacock for our next shift. When we walked to the back of the kitchen, Don was there, waiting on us.
“Mr. Cortez, what can we do for you?” I was nervous as shit because I had no idea what he was going to say.
He pulled out a fat manila envelope and handed it over to us. “Mr. Florence wanted to thank you for your discretion.”
I nodded my head in acknowledgement and passed the envelope to Justin. He put it in his bag, and neither of us said anything. When you grow up doing ‘favors’ for guys and running packages, you learn to keep your mouth shut, even when someone is talking to you. Let other people do the talking.
After a moment he smiled. “I’d like to talk to you both about a promotion if you’re interested in doing some work for me.”
It was the moment we’d been waiting for, and I was all ears. “Yes, sir, Mr. Cortez.”
“Call me Don.”
* * *
Thirteen years later Don helped us finance our first casino, and two years later we paid him back in full. We owe every opportunity to Don, and he’s like a father to us.
Don was the one who helped us become brothers legally and even gave us his own last name. We were like our own little makeshift family. He set up our attorney and filed the paperwork. Although we were adults, we still wanted it. We decided early on that we were a family and always would be. So we went through the process and changed our last name to Cortez. When that was complete, it felt like we’d sealed the deal and made one of the final steps we’d always planned on as kids. Don helped us become a family, and we were eternally grateful for that.
So when he called and said we had a problem in our casino, we listened.
Frank Johnson is a gambler, and not a very good one. He’s been lucky for a while, but it seems his luck isn’t going so good these days. He’s bouncing around from casino to casino, jumping in high roller games and betting big with money he doesn't have. Mostly he gets so sloppy, he can’t play his cards, so we cash him out and send him on his way. He hit the Gold Peacock twice this week, and when I check our cameras I see him down in our pit, making waves.
Our casino, The Cortez, is high end, and caters to an older crowd. We don’t have dance clubs or pool parties. We like to keep things classy. The Cortez is known for this and welcomes wealthy weekenders looking for a low key Vegas experience. If you’ve got money and don’t like flashy, chances are you’ve stayed with us.
Seeing Frank down in the pits isn’t good for the casino atmosphere or for business. I look over at Justin and we nod, deciding to handle this ourselves. Don said Frank used to be a friend, and he recently lost his wife, so he’s been floating him for a while. But it’s been happening for over two years, and the float isn’t in place anymore. When Don calls in your debts, it’s time to pay up or get out.
We make our way down to the pit, and the floor boss shakes our hands. Seeing us down here isn’t unusual, but thankfully Mark is always on his toes. Justin and I move to Frank’s table, and gently pull him away. I nod to Angela who’s working the table to let her know to take his cards.
“Mr. Johnson, Mr. Don Cortez asked us to call you a cab and make sure you arrive home safely. Don’t worry about tonight’s debt, it’s on the house.”
Frank looks up at me with sad eyes, and nods. He pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it to me. I look down at it and pass it to Justin.
“Stella?” Justin asks.
“She’s my daughter. Call her.” His words are slurred, but we get the picture.
Justin and I walk him over to a private part of the casino and I make the call while a server brings some water over. It’s two am and I’m not sure if she’ll pick up, but after just the first ring the line connects.
“Hello?”
Her voice is raspy with sleep, but hearing just that one word instantly makes me hard. Jesus Christ. I can’t remember the last time I heard something that made me hard. Vegas is a town where women let it all hang out, and even in our casino where it’s quiet and elegant, there’s not much left to the imagination. Hearing her sultry voice murmur a single word catches and hooks me.
“Hello?” This time she clears her throat, and I can tell she’s more awake. I blink, reminding myself to speak.
“Yes, sorry. This is Aaron Cortez. Your dad, Frank, asked us to call you.”
“Does he need to be picked up?” God, her voice. Something about the rasp, the slow whisper. My body tingles.
“Yes. He’s at the Cortez Casino. Do you think you can pick him up?” I would offer to have someone take him to her, but after hearing her voice, I want to see her. No, I need to see her. I need to be close to this voice. Soon.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
I start to thank her, but the line disconnects. I look over at Frank, who’s asleep in the lounge chair, and then I look at Justin. He locks eyes with me and raises an eyebrow. He knows me better than I know myself, and he knows when something is different. I can’t say it yet because I don’t want to jinx it.
We sit there for thirty-six minutes, and I know this because I check my watch every two minutes. Suddenly, I see a brunette walking in our direction, and Justin and I stand up at the same time.
She’s short, curvy, and wearing jeans and a tight, white, V-neck t-shirt. She’s got on cowboy boots, and her hair is in a big knot on top her head. She looks like she rolled out of bed. Her face is free of make-up, and she looks a little annoyed as well as embarrassed. But I swear on our casino, she’s the best-looking woman I’ve ever seen in my life. Her body is lush, and her silver eyes have frozen me in place. I’ve never seen eye
s like that before. She looks like pure sex, as if she’s just gotten out from her sheets, and all I want to do is strip her bare and throw her back in them. I feel Justin tense next to me. This is it. She’s the one.
Before I can introduce myself, she speaks.
“Thank you for calling me. I’m sorry if he caused any problems. Does he owe any money?” She looks at both of us, and I realize we’re like statues staring at her.
Hearing that raspy voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I have this uncontrollable need to put her in between my brother and me and take her to the ground. Right here, right now.
Justin, however, manages to speak. “No. He’s all yours, Missus…?”
“Johnson. And it’s ‘Miss.’ There’s just me. And please call me Stella. Thank you for calling. If there are ever any problems, please don’t hesitate to call again. I would prefer we handle this privately.” She moves towards her father, making an attempt to pick him up. There’s no way her tiny body can lift him, and I wouldn’t let her if she tried.
I don’t want her to leave, but I can see she’s got an urgency about her to make this situation go away. Seeing that shakes me out of my fog, and I move to help her. “Please, allow us.” I nod to Justin and we help shoulder Frank out of the casino and into her waiting truck. Once we have him inside the cab, she goes around and jumps in.
Justin and I hustle to the other side, sensing the same thing. We can’t force her to stay, not yet, but we aren’t ready for her to go.
She cranks up the truck and puts it in gear. She’s ready to dismiss us, something women don't usually do to us, and meanwhile we are trying to keep her here.
“Is there anything else we can do for you tonight, Stella?” Saying her name and feeling it roll off my tongue is so sweet. It feels perfect. I grip the rolled-down window as if I can prevent the truck from moving.
She looks at both of us standing beside her truck, and seems to blush a little. “No. Thank you for your help.”