I don’t know when this Mandy will be getting here so I make quick work of my shower and end up just doing my hair in a simple braid so I don’t have to worry about it.
I make my way to the closet that is bigger than my bedroom back home on the farm. Hell, this might even be bigger than the master bedroom. Half of the room is lined with suits, Justin’s and Aaron’s. It’s simple and clean. The other half of the room is lined with…my stuff, I guess. Part of it is lined with clothes—dresses, jeans, t-shirts, and nice dressy tops. When I start going through them, I notice everything is in my size. The other part of the room is lined with glass shelves stacked with shoes of all varieties, tons of purses to match all the clothes, and pieces of jewelry hang on little stands that are scattered on the glass shelves.
What. The. f*ck
.
There are hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes and accessories for me in here. I would have to change my outfit ten times a day to wear everything in the thirty days I am set to be here. To top it off, how did they know I was going to be here? Were they looking for a type and I just fit it? Did they go into the auction knowing they wanted a certain kind of woman and I just fit the bill? It made sense if that was so. They had been trying to get me to go out with them for weeks. They say men have a type. Or did they know I would be here?
I’m not sure how I feel about that. Vegas is a small big city. All the important players know each other, and the Mistress Auctions are for the elite. I have no clue who else was being auctioned or the details of how the auctions work. For all I know, Samantha sends out a portfolio before each auction and maybe they had seen me on it and thought it was their chance to finally get what they had been wanting.
I’m not sure if I should be mad or grateful. I’m thinking I’ll go with grateful, even though I kind of want to smack them a little. Men like them always get what they want. Another part of why I turned them down. I didn’t just want to be a notch on their belt, even though I had wanted them. At least I was bought by someone I kind of knew. Who knows what I could have ended up with? And now I get a taste of what I had really wanted every time they asked me to dinner and I said no.
Making my way over to the giant island in the middle of the room, I start pulling open drawers. Each one is filled with bras, underwear (if you can even call it that) and lingerie. Picking up a soft blue bra, I read the tag, 32DD. How the hell did they know that? I almost want to laugh. It’s like they snuck into my room and searched my drawers to get all the right sizes, but maybe they just paid attention to details. You don’t own a casino like the Cortez without noticing details
Slipping the bra on, I find the matching panties and slide them on. I’ve never worn a thong in my life. How am I supposed to walk around all day with a piece of string up my ass? Having said that, I also don’t think I’ve felt such soft material against my skin before.
I notice a blue sundress lying on the ottoman in the corner of the closet, with a note placed on top of it.
We thought this would look perfect on you.
Does that mean I’m supposed to wear it? I know I’m to follow all their orders as long as it doesn’t cause me harm or put me in danger. That is what the mistress contract had stated. It’s not something I’d normally wear. I slide it over my head. It takes a little pull to get it over my breasts, but once there it fits perfectly.
The top is tight enough that I don’t think I need a bra. Reaching in between my breasts, I unsnap the hook and pull the bra out. The dress sits snug against my stomach, but flares at my waist, stopping mid-thigh.
I make my way over to the mirror, and have to agree. It does look perfect. But this underwear has to go. There is no way I can walk around like this all day. I quickly pull it off and toss it on the floor. Thongs are the only underwear provided, so I’ll just have to go without until I can buy some more.
It’s then I remember I’m a millionaire. It was almost like I had forgotten for a moment, as if I was going through the motions. I could buy hordes of underwear now if I wanted to. I need to call Tim, my foreman, to let him know we have the money to pay a few bills that have piled up. Hell, we could even replace some equipment that’s been hanging on by a thread now. Tim has worked hard for the farm. He seems to have a deeper passion for it than I do, and I know he has been worried about us losing it. At times I think he loves the place more than I do.
The farm has been all I’ve ever known. My home. I’ve been fighting to keep it alive, and now that I have money in my pocket my mind is racing with ideas. Maybe I held onto it so tightly because it’s all I’ve ever known, like a security blanket, or maybe because I thought I didn’t have any other choice. Today, it seems like I have a lot more.