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Answering the ad was my idea. I lost my job and I really did not have the heart to tell my husband. He has a good job but we really can not survive on just his income. I didn’t want us to go on welfare and tip my hand that I had lost my job. Don’t get me wrong, Chet is a great guy. I don’t fear his wrath, He really is a giant pussy cat. I do miss him right now because he is working double time on the night shift. That will only last for a couple of months and even with his extra work we need my income. The real problem was I didn’t want to confess that it was my own stupidity that got me fired. I improperly read a series of invoices and cost the company over 10,000 dollars. The fact that I had to pay my employers back was the REAL reason I didn’t want to tell my husband. The circumstances of my mistake could be easily interpreted as me giving an off the books sweetheart deal to the invoiced companies. It really wasn’t the case but I could easily understand how people could view it that way. In exchange for leaving quietly and repaying the shortfall, my employers promised not to seek legal action and to give decent referrals to potential future employers. In the meantime there was the mortgage, the car payments, cable bill, and tuition for the kid’s school and day care. You know the drill. In short, I needed a lot of money in a hurry.
I called the number and set up an appointment. It was in an office in the Devon building. Stenciled on the door was the name of the firm “Employment Solutions, Inc.” I knocked on the door and was told to enter. Behind the desk sat an attractive man who was about 45, he had salt and pepper hair and looked a bit like a famous movie actor.
“You must be Amber West.” he said.
“Yes.” I had brought my resume, even though I had been told that it was not necessary. I proffered my work history.
“That won’t be necessary Ms. West, may I call you Amber? I am Henry Fremont”
“Of course.”
“I know from our conversation the nature of your problem. Like all of my clients you need a lot of money in a hurry. I can get it for you but we are not a traditional employment agency as you understand the term.”
“What do you mean Mr. Fremont?”
“For women such as yourself, and may I say Amber, you are quite lovely, certain industries pay top dollar.”
I was beginning to have a queasy feeling in my stomach, but I had come all the way across town, so I decided to hear him out.
“First of all I am NOT a pimp nor do I run a strip joint. I am an agent for gentlemen and ladies who want a “total immersion” experience. You will earn 1,500 dollars a night, triple that for an entire weekend. I do not get a cut of your money, as I said I am not a pimp. I get a finder’s fee and gratuities for a job well done.
My head reeled at that kind of money. Earning that it would not take me long to pay back what I owed. But I had questions
“Total immersion?”
“This is where most women go running screaming from the room. “Total immersion” is our company’s phrase for complete submission and control. In other words a hired slave who will do whatever our customers request for the evening. They decide what you wear or what you do not wear. They will be permitted to collar you and tie you up. Obviously their sexual expectations will be met as well. Our clients are all first class and carefully vetted. We run a clean, honest business “
He stopped talking and carefully eyed me up and down.
I made a move to grab my purse and go but something stopped me. Maybe it was the fact that I like it when Chet ties me to the bed. I knew we were not the only couple with a set of leather lined handcuffs but I doubt those other couples made a frequent use of ours as did Chet and I. It WAS an awful lot of money …
Another woman WOULD have run screaming from the office. The fact that I was still sitting there meant that SOMETHING about the arrangement appealed to me. I love Chet, I really do but I often fantasize about other men. He has a UPS man outfit, a Domino’s Pizza guy outfit, Mechanics overalls and false mustaches. He indulges me as I play the wayward wife, the Catholic schoolgirl, the horny co-ed. We try our best to keep each other happy. I KNOW Chet is happy with me but when the acting stops, it is still Chet under all those outfits. More than once, I wished it WAS the pool boy or the postman or anybody else. I decided to remain seated.
After a pause Henry Fremont spoke. “You are not running Ms. West.”
“No I’m not am I?”
“Do I take it that this employment opportunity appeals to you?”
“You could say that. I get the money right away?”
“Cash on the barrelhead as soon as your night is over.”
“Mr. Fremont.” I answered “I think I could do this job. To be honest I have fantasized about other men. I had a bi girlfriend for a short while in college. I had my tubes tied when my twins were born.”
“I get the idea.” Said Henry Fremont cutting me off. “There are some preliminaries ankara escort that must be attended to. Follow me to the back room.”
I trailed Fremont into the next room. It was full of camera equipment.
“We need to put a portfolio together of you Ms West. Would you be nice enough to remove your clothes, ALL of them behind that screen over there. When I am ready for you I will call. What alias would you like to use? You are a redhead but we already have a Ginger.”
“I thought for a moment and said is Cinnamon taken?”
“No, no its not. That will work.”
I knew that Fremont would like what he was about to see. I am five foot five and weigh a shade under 110 pounds. My deep ginger colored hair falls to the middle of my back. I have alabaster skin and blue eyes. I wear the largest C cup and my legs arms and fingers are very long and shapely. I worked out like a champ to drop my baby weight. Women at the gym have a hard time believing I gave birth to three kids. I have only the tiniest of scars from my cesareans. I feel great that at twenty nine I still turn heads like I did when I was eighteen.
Truth be told I always wanted a total stranger to photograph me in the all together. I’ve posed for Chet but that’s just not the same. There is no mystery, he is not swept off his feet with lust and desire. In our eight years of marriage he has seen me every way imaginable. I wanted to know, needed to know what other men thought of me. I get looks at the gym but, to be honest, I dress fairly demurely there. I appreciate it but its not like they’re seeing my milky white breasts and my sweet orange kitty.
In a short while Henry Fremont announced that he was ready for me. I stepped out from behind the screen.
“Oh MY!” Said my new boss. It was all the encouragement I needed. For the next forty five minutes he put me through a series of poses. In some I was clad in nylons and lingerie. In others totally starkers. The final shots were of me naked save for a leather collar around my neck. I could not help but notice the bulge in Henry’s pants. As for me, lets just say that when I got home, in the hour I had before my oldest got home from school, and I had to pick up the twins from day care, I gave my vibrating mechanical pal quite the workout.
Once Henry was finished taking pictures I got dressed and filled out all the boring details of employment, address, Social Security number, my schedule and availability, the usual paperwork. In addition there were some unique questions like what day of the month did my monthly cycle usually begin and wether I had any problems with a client shaving me. Henry gave me an inexpensive cell phone. And said, “I don’t think it will take me more than a couple of days to line up a job for you. Use this cell phone; only I or your clients will be able to call or text you on it. Only I will know your true identity. To them you are just slave Cinnamon. Believe me you don’t want them calling you on your personal cell phone. It should be obvious but I will remind you to keep your personal life and your professional life with our agency on separate plains.”
After a further talk that detailing my duties and responsibilities, I went home, gave myself that needed relief and stepped back into my role of wife and mother. Chet usually got home at about nine in the morning and crashed until dinner. He had to leave for work by 8:00 P.M. To keep from being bothered by the children he had taken to sleeping in the spare bed room. I was so still keyed up from having been naked in front of Henry that around 5:00, instead of starting dinner, I set the kids in front of the tube, slapped in “The Little Mermaid” and crawled under the covers with Chet. He was delighted when I sucked him off and mounted him without any of my usual play acting. What Chet could not know of course that the whole time we were together, I was imagining that it was, Henry, or some other handsome man I wasn’t married to, ordering me around. I could not wait until that new cell phone rang!
The next few days seemed to be the dullest days to ever dawn on this planet. I felt like the walls were closing in upon me. The kids and Chet were regular angels but I felt so stifled as “Mommy” and “Honey.” With no job to go to I went to the library on the other side of town and surfed the web and read. I did also fill out job applications for openings in my regular line of work. There was simply less chance here, of any one I knew coming across me and asking me embarrassing questions. Finally Henry’s cell phone rang!
“Cinnamon. There is an event tonight at 345 Greenwood Avenue. Dress like you are going to a PTA meeting with your sexiest underwear and black thigh high stockings under that. You will report at 8:45 P.M. to Iola Jones. It is a fundraising auction. After your clothes are sold you will be auctioned off as well. The high bidder gets to collar you and you’re their property until five A.M. They promise that they will ankara escort bayan have something for you to wear home and they will make sure that you get home no later than seven A.M. Wear costume jewelry and for God’s sake leave your wedding and engagement rings at home!”
I knew instinctively what I would wear. The preppy mom look was sure to be a turn on. I grabbed my tweed knee length skirt and a pale blue cotton blouse. I had a couple of strings of fake pearls for the June Cleaver look and sensible but slightly sexy shoes. The shoes would be the hardest to replace. I doubt that Chet would ever notice these clothes had disappeared from my wardrobe. As to the underthings. I really didn’t want to appear on stage, or in front of a room, or what ever the situation turned out to be in anything less than fresh and spanking new. I stopped at “Victoria’s Secret” and left with an adolescent male’s wet dream fantasy.
I had not allowed myself to be totally unprepared. After signing up with Henry one of the first things I did was have a talk with Mandy from next door. She is sixteen and a super babysitter. I had no problem convincing Mandy’s mother to let her be an occasional all night babysitter. After all she was right next door.
I stayed too focused to let the euphoria I was feeling overwhelm me. I focused on getting to school and the day care center on time. I got dinner ready at 5;00 P.M. and made sure that Mandy would not come over until after Chet had left for work. I really must have applied myself for Chet praised my dinner and the kids actually cleaned their plates. After dinner it was bath time and bedtime for the kids. Chet kissed them all goodnight at 7:30 and made his final preparations to go to work. Like clockwork his car was out of the driveway by 7:40 P.M. I quickly dressed for my “job” and Mandy arrived promptly at 8:00. I had a leisurely, no more than thirty minute, drive to my destination. I knew I would be cutting it close. I knew the area well and the route required so I also knew that I would make it.
I allowed myself some time to relax as I drove. It felt funny to not be wearing my rings. Even during the raunchiest role play with Chet I had kept them on. I felt positively naked without them. It seemed like every nerve and every fiber was on fire. It was like getting high but better, there was no ash or residue, and nothing to clean up. 345 Greenwood was a large house surrounded by an equally large sward of lawn. I pulled into the driveway and discovered a valet. My purse was already locked in the trunk. I handed the cute young valet my car keys. He eyed me in a way that I appreciated as I exited my car. The only things I took with me was a small makeup bag and Henry’s cell phone. At the front door I asked for Iola Jones and was led to a side room Where I met a charming brunette woman in her mid-fifties. I introduced myself as Cinnamon.
“Oh good your are punctual to the dot I like that. You look marvelous, my dear our patrons are so going to cotton to you. Right now they are being served drinks and dining. The focus of events will be this room here.”
I followed her to a book lined room. Obviously a well apportioned private library. There was a small riser set up at one end of the room and a bright light forming a circle on the impromptu stage.
“The bidders tonight are patrons for a charity. I am sure that you have heard of us but for obvious reasons, we will remain anonymous. I will be conducting the auction. We start with your pearls and. sell you down to your bare skin. At that point a collar will be offered for sale. Whoever wins the bidding for the collar wins you for the evening. Once collard you will obey EVERY request and EVERY order from your purchaser. Through that door” Iola pointed off to the right,”is a bed room stocked with caviar and champaign. There is only on condition on your employment tonight, Cinnamon. The word “no” may not cross your lips at any point tonight. If it does you DO NOT get paid. Is that clear?”
I looked at her, smiled and said “Yes Ma’am!”
“Spectacular. At five A.M. I will break up the party you and the lucky winner will no doubt be in the midst of. I have some sweats and sneakers you can wear home. Ordinarily you would have been required to spend the night but we were only given this house until 10:00 in the morning. We have to clear everyone out long before that so the cleaners can get to work. We have to leave this house spotless. But I am sure that the housekeeping chores do not interest you. You can prepare yourself in that lavatory across the hall. I will come for you when all is ready.”
I entered the bathroom and applied some makeup. I chose a classy look. I ended up just like I intended to; looking like an extremely attractive housewife. I was the MILF that gave both the boys on the football team AND their fathers a stiffy. My look was supremely confident but inside butterflies filled my stomach. Finally Iola stuck her head escort ankara in the door and said, “We are ready for you darling.”
The library was full of expensive suits and fancy dresses as Iola held my hand and led me through the crowd to the tiny stage. She planted me right under the spotlight. The crowd became a mass of gray figures. I heard light applause and some wolf whistles, I had expected a more genteel crowd but every one in the room save me had probably already had several drinks. I could just make out waiters carrying cocktails and beer on trays.
Iola moved behind a small lectern and began speaking into a wireless microphone. “Welcome ladies and gentlemen, board members and guests. As most of you know I am Iola Jones and tonight you oh so naughty, yet oh so rich people will be bidding on this fair creature to my left. One of you lucky folks will get to collar her and command her until the wee small hours of the morning. We will begin bidding for her pearls. I believe that they are fake. That is the only thing fake about Cinnamon here. Underneath the ordinary exterior is a woman who is completely natural and VERY desirable. What am I bid for the pearls?
The pearls really were worthy of a Walmart discount sale but they went for fifty bucks. It was just a charitable contribution to the cause, what ever it was. Next they bid on my shoes and I got a sense of the kind of money in the room when they went for 250 dollars. Iola stated that my blouse would be next to go up for sale. The bidding for that was mind boggling. As last it sold for 700 dollars! I slowly unbuttoned the blue blouse at first giving a tantalizing glimpse if the lacy bra I wore under it before opening it with a flourish and handing the blouse to Iola. My bra was barely there. It was well constructed but exceptionally lacy. I loved the fact that it was just opaque at my areolas. I know it presented a very tantalizing image. The crowd burst into applause and I began to hear a steady stream of wolf whistles and cheers.
The bidding for my skirt had the room in a fever pitch. My skirt passed the thousand dollar threshold and peaked at 1200 dollars. I unzipped the back of the skirt and wriggled my rump until it slid off my hips and down my legs. I was really enjoying this! My long legs and the black stockings came into view as did my black lacy thong. To the folks closest to the stage it would be obvious that I was a natural redhead.
There was sustained applause at my nearly naked form. I performed several pirouettes upon the stage, highlighting my pert, pretty ass, and smiled my most fetching smile. My stockings went for an even 900 dollars. As tantalizingly as I could I unrolled them down my legs one at a time and then deftly took them off. I think my legs are one of my best features. Judging from the response in the room, I am not alone in that opinion.
My bra was offered next. A very generous older man purchased it for 1,400 dollars. He got to unclasp it and remove it himself. I’m NOT bragging. I have GREAT tits I felt so wanted and so desirable. Iola took a moment to feel me up and said. “Ladies and gentlemen those fantastic boobs are real! If you had money on the betting line that our prize tonight would have implants, you need to fork over your cash.”
My thong was a much desired prize. After a tense bidding war it went for a even 1,000 dollars the winner came up on stage and removed the prize himself. Up close I realized that I had seen this man on the news. He was a famous, (and famously rich) politician! This must be some important and powerful charity. I rewarded the man with a kiss and watched as he departed the stage sniffing my thong.
Iola’s next announcement made my every nerve flutter. The butterflies, which had departed when I began to strip, came back in abundance as I heard. “Now ladies and gentlemen it is time for you to really dig deep into your pockets.” She held aloft a black leather collar with a silver clasp. “We are bidding on the right to collar and possess our slave. We will START the bidding at 5,000 dollars!
I was order to assume several positions, kneeling, on all fours, arms and legs far apart, bent over ass forward, and a few more. The bidding continued to rise. At this point I was so horny and feeling so good that I lost track of the final figure but it was over 25,000 dollars.
“Sold to Mr. and Mrs S.” announced Iola. There was thunderous applause and I saw my “owners” for the first time. He was well over six feet tall and had close cropped sandy hair. Handsome would be an understatement. She was several inches taller than me and had long black hair and a stunning figure. I thought that she looked like Wonder Woman in her Diana Prince guise.
He took the collar from Iola and handed it to his wife. “You do the honors, Princess.” Mr. S said. I felt her cool efficient hands and the cold leather encircle my throat. From her enormous purse Mrs. S produced a leash and hooked it to my collar, As she tugged on the leash, I was led to the champaign stocked bedroom as the crowd dissipated.
Once we were behind the door and it was locked, Mrs. S. kissed me deeply. I had no problem kissing her back. After a few minuets of tongue wrestling, Mrs. S. pulled away.
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