Going Once, Going Twice, Sold! Read online

  Going Once, Going Twice, Sold!

  by

  Kate Stone

  Going Once, Going Twice, Sold!

  Copyright 2019, Kate Stone

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, transmitted or distributed in any printed or electronic form by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of Yasmin Adler, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within reviews and other non-commercial uses allowed by copyright law.

  For permission requests, email [email protected].

  www.AuthorKateStone.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For Mr. Stone, who makes all my dreams come true.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Other books by Kate Stone

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and sighed. Was I crazy? Yes. Was I really that desperate? Yes. Would this solve all my problems? Only if it went exactly right.

  I unlocked my phone and looked at the latest message from Flower Patch, the app my roommate Amber told me about. It looked like a cute little game, but tap the right combination of flowers and it would bring you to an auction site for selling your virginity.

  Yes, my life had come to this. I had to sell my virginity so that I could stay in college and take care of my little brother, Liam. I thought I was doing fairly well with my finances, I had some money set aside for future semesters and was able to pay for my schooling with a combination of work, loans and savings. Unfortunately, that all came crashing down when my father emptied my bank account and fled the country, only a few hours before the sheriff came looking for him.

  I may feel bad for myself, but Liam was taking it much harder than I was.. Liam didn’t understand why dad abandoned him, and it’s hard to explain to a kid that his dad never loved him. I’m Liam’s only relative so when he called me I used the last of my credit to fly him out to stay with me. Now I’m a full-time college student, a full-time employee and a full-time parental figure. Something has to give because I can’t keep this up.

  I tapped the flower combination and whistled under my breath. The high bid had climbed to $525,000. That was a lot of money to someone who had almost nothing. If I dropped down to working part time and if Liam got a job too, I could stretch the payout to last us seven years and I wouldn’t even have to take out any more student loans.

  The auction had only been live for eight hours. It would end in another sixteen and I wondered how much higher the bids would go.

  Setting up the auction was sort of a blur for me, and I had my roommate, Amber help me write my bio.

  Casey is a 21-year-old beauty from America. She lives and studies in Austin, Texas.

  A sweet smile, a stunning body, a unique charisma. All this coupled with intelligence and charm makes Casey a real dream woman ready to experience her first time.

  And underneath were all the stats that actually mattered.

  Location: USA

  Travel availability: Worldwide

  Languages: English

  Age: 19

  Height: 160 cm

  Weight: 52 kg

  Hair color: Blonde

  Eye color: Green

  Natural breasts: Yes

  Tattoo/Piercings: No

  It’d taken a surprisingly short amount of time to verify my identity – I’d uploaded my photo ID and passport before I could get cold feet. Within minutes the auction service had set up a video chat to check that I was "sound of mind," and not being coerced into the transaction. Thank god there was no actual medical test to determine if I was a virgin, all I had to do was swear to it. They determined that despite my nervous laughter, I was selling my virginity of my own free will. And I was, wasn’t I?

  Of course, no one actually said I was being paid to have sex with a stranger. All the paperwork I had to sign said I was agreeing to dinner with an older man. Once dinner was complete and the gentleman was satisfied, the money would be transferred to my account. It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines and according to Amber the men knew what they were actually paying for.

  I had one week before my tuition bill was due. Sure, most of it was paid, but if I didn’t have paid-in-full stamped in my file, the University of Texas system would unenroll me from my classes. That would trigger my student loan payments to begin and without my degree I would never make enough money to pay them back.

  As soon as the auction ended I needed to complete the transaction to stave off my bills. If the first auction fell through, I’d have enough time to set up another one.

  I opened the door to Smith Hall and walked into my Bioinformatics lecture.

  Chapter 2

  "Hurry up, Casey. I’m starving!" Liam gave me a half-hearted shoulder nudge. He’d been hanging out on campus all day as I went to lectures in Bioinformatics and Organic Chemistry.

  "You know, you could have eaten while you waited."

  Liam shrugged. "I was enjoying the view."

  "Gross."

  Enjoying the view was Liam’s way of saying he was oogling the women walking by. Sure, he was fifteen, but that didn’t stop him from looking at the college women walking across campus. I’d tell him to cut it out, but he’s been suffering with horrendous social anxiety and fears of being abandoned again. He needed absolute acceptance right now.

  "I don’t know, Case. You clearly didn’t see the same orientation group I did."

  "Pizza or subs?" I asked, changing the subject.

  Liam was slow walker, whether on purpose or by default, I could never quite put my finger on. Still, his pace accentuated his tall stature and gave others more time to gawk at his prominent features and over-styled hair. He’d be handsome once he grew up a bit more.

  "Pizza. But, like, a whole one because I’m starving. Extra cheese," he said.

  "Yeah, sure." I felt my already light pocketbook shrinking as we walked towards the dining hall. Casey, you better hope someone thinks you’re worth some major cash. Raising a teenage brother before I’d even turned twenty wouldn’t be cheap. Two slices of pizza, two sodas and then another slice when Liam inevitably said he was still hungry was going to take the rest of my cash. I was going to have to skip dinner and try to grab something from work that wasn’t suitable to serve to the customers.

  I handed Liam the rest of my cash and sat down at a table. Swiping to unlock my phone screen, I dared to look at the auction site.

  I didn’t have to choose the highest bidder if I didn’t want to, so some bidders were sending me messages along with their bids.

  There was Athens4.0, a classic case of the guy who’s read too many blog posts about the power of negging. He’d sent a message saying that I must only be pretending to be sweet for attention. He thought my skin looked very touchable so lucky me I guess. Not. He only had a single picture on his profile, an pixelated close-up of what looked like a company photo. Strike him off the list of possibles.

  I’d gotten some polite messages from a man whose username was ToddMachine, asking about my hobbies and whether I liked spicy food. I typed out responses to his questions before browsing his profile pictures. He wasn’t bad looking at all. He was in his late twenties, had a kind face and two kids. There they were, a to
ddler on each knee, in the last of four pictures. I could only hope that a happy wife wasn’t the one behind the camera on that particular photograph. Bye bye, ToddMachine. I wasn’t going to break up a marriage for money.

  There were several men looking to "set up an arrangement" as well. The "call me Daddy" type. They didn’t give a lick about my personality or life-goals and wanted to know how much I charged per week to be arm candy. I had no interest in spending one more second with the man I chose than I had to. This was a one-time thing and the sooner it was over, the better.

  It’s not like I had taken any time to develop rules about selling my virginity. The whole idea started off as a joke. My roommate caught me crying in my room the night I realized my father had taken everything I had. She tried to cheer me up by plying me with alcohol, even though she knew I didn’t usually drink. That night I was completely overwhelmed and what started as a ‘why not?’ shot of vodka after the desperate call from Liam led to the couple of beers that followed my realization that he was my responsibility now.

  When Amber said the only thing I had of any real value was my virginity and that I should sell it, I said yes without thinking. I mean, it’s not like I was saving myself anyway. That whole romance thing hadn’t happened for me yet and if I ever needed a Prince Charming, now was the time.

  "There was this French model who got twelve million dollars!" Amber had gushed to me. "And that’s for one night. Can you even imagine what you could do with that kind of money?"

  "Well, she’s gorgeous," I said, squinting at the cracked screen of her phone as she showed me the bosom-forward profile of a blonde vixen.

  "Don’t play coy. You know you’ve got a little sumthin’-sumthin’." Amber had a tendency to let her southern drawl slip out after a few drinks. "If only I’d thought to put my ass on the market. Tell me that isn’t a better one-and-done than Kevin in band camp."

  "You tell me."

  "Oh right, that was me," Amber winked as she poured me another drink. "Let’s take some pictures. Ooh! You should try on this new dress I got. It’s a little flapper-esque, but I can see you rocking it."

  There was no way I could rock anything as hard as Amber did when she wasn’t even trying. She had a perfect model figure, so slim she could wear a parachute and look tiny, and a highlighted pixie cut that never hit that awkward growing-out stage.

  She whipped out her DSLR camera and snapped photos of me coming up the staircase in the shiny flapper dress. We scavenged my closet for what she called a "sit-on-the-floor comfy" outfit -knee-high socks, short shorts, and an oversized sweater.

  "It makes you look innocent. Men like that. I mean, that is the whole point, right?" Amber explained.

  I thought it seemed a bit creepy, but I didn’t think we’d actually upload them. She had me in quick-changes like it was her job — and since she was a theater major, it kind of was — out and then back into clothes and make-up dependent on what she thought I would look good in. It was fun. I felt a pang of guilt for enjoying this irresponsible waste of my time. I imagined my brother and what he must be feeling because I was sure he wasn’t out having fun with his friends.

  "Earth to Casey! Pinking of You or Pervette?" she asked, holding up two tubes of rosy, shimmering lipstick.

  "Do you have a shade called Bitter Virgin?"

  "Nah, I think your mopey eyes get that across fine. Here, sexy kimono time."

  Once we finished with the photos, we set up my account, just for fun. And then we uploaded the photos. Just to see what would happen. And then we submitted my profile for review, and waited. It was only a few minutes before the site called me to confirm my details. I went through with the confirmation and I was selling off my virginity. Once I got off the phone with the site, I realized I wanted to do this. There was no other way I could turn around my life, and Liam’s.

  The lanky shadow over my shoulder and the wafting aroma of oily pepperoni alerted me to Liam’s attempt at snooping.

  "You looking for a hot date or what?" he asked as he plopped a paper plate bleeding grease in front of me.

  "Something like that." I shrugged, closing the app. It’s not like I was going to tell my little brother about this hair-brained idea of mine. He didn’t need to know what I would do to keep him close and happy.

  And so far as Liam knew, I had full a scholarship and that I only needed to work for my rent. That’s all I wanted him to know – I never wanted him to worry about me. It’d be great if he could get a part-time job once he got settled in, a movie theater job or something, so he could have a normal high school experience. He was putting on such a good front, acting like being abandoned didn’t bother him at all. I couldn’t let him know that I was winging it, betting our livelihood on the checkbook of a hypothetical stranger looking to deflower me.

  After our late lunch, I dropped Liam off at the apartment before heading to my evening job slinging lattes from two to ten PM. He was sleeping on the couch until we could find a bigger place. Amber would be out of class in about an hour and had promised to stay home tonight with Liam. He didn’t need a babysitter, but I felt better when someone was with him.

  Usually, the most exciting part of my job was that once-in-a-blue-moon moment when I nailed a customer’s latte art. However, this time the most exciting part of my shift was the message that I got just before clocking out. It began,

  "Evening, Casey. I had to laugh at the reflection of your photographer in a couple of your photos."

  and then

  "I’ve bid two million dollars. All my cards are on the table. I’m not looking for an arrangement or to fall in love. If we don’t meet within 24 hours, I assume that you aren’t interested. What do you think?"

  It was difficult to get a sense of the guy by looking at his profile. His username was Mr. Pragmatic, he hit the nail on the head there. Mr. Pragmatic was far from the type that I’d imagined myself dating or giving myself to, that was for sure. His photo was a full-length shot of himself and although he was definitely older than me, he looked strong. In fact, he was built like he could break down walls. Even though the square of his jaw and the angle of his brow gave him a harsh look, there was something in his smile that made me wish he would smile at me that way.

  Pragmatic meant minimal uncertainties. No loose ends. Yes, I decided that I liked Mr. Pragmatic’s approach. I didn’t need to know his damage or to speculate on his virgin-fetish, which meant that he didn’t need to know my baggage or to know me long enough to even be curious about it. He needed something and had money to pay. I had something to give, and needed the cash. I liked the equal exchange of that. Of course, I liked the two million dollars of that even more.

  There were a few more hours left to the auction, so I decided to wait and see if anyone would top his offer. The coffee shop was filling up so I put my phone in my bag and didn’t let myself look at it again until after work.

  The second I left work, though, I looked and no one had come close to bidding more. Athens4.0 sent me another message saying I wasn’t worth that much money, yet, but he could turn me into someone who could command that much money regularly. Yuck.

  I accepted Mr. Pragmatic’s offer on the walk home.

  Chapter 3

  Here’s how it worked: Mr. Pragmatic proposed two million dollars. I accepted. I thought about paying off the rest of my schooling, coming out debt-free. I imagined a three-bedroom apartment with enough room for Liam, Amber, and me. I thought about Liam and I never having to see our father again. I wondered if I was scamming myself or naively walking into some crazy cartel candy shop. I panicked. The agency would geta twenty percent cut. Four hundred thousand dollars to them for letting me post my pictures on their graphically-challenged website. I tried to take comfort in that they probably vetted his identity the way they did mine. Forty percent of the knee-weakening one point six million remainder goes immediately to me upon setting the date and approval. That’s six hundred forty thousand dollars for agreeing to Mr. Pragmatic’s hotel of choice and
a sizable block off my schedule on Friday night. I would get the rest when I met Mr. P in person. Nine hundred sixty thousand when I met him tomorrow. There it was; my virginity was worth one point six million dollars. Ka-ching?

  The reality was that I had no idea what to expect. When I got home at almost eleven, the apartment was dark and I had to tip-toe past the living room couch where Liam slept, snoring irregularly. The door to Amber’s bedroom was ajar and the soft pulse of the fairy lights draped around her windows emanated into the hallway. I paused by her door as my phone buzzed. A couple confirmation emails from the auction service and a bank transfer to my account. Holy gingersnaps. It was real. There was also a message from Mr. Pragmatic.

  "What does your day look like tomorrow?"

  There was some creaking from the other side of Amber’s door and then she was standing beside me, glancing back and forth between me phone and face.

  "Oh boy, Casey-bear." She placed both of her hands on my shoulder in a surprisingly maternal gesture. "Did you actually go through with it?"

  Would you look at that? I was actually shaking. Did I actually do it?

  "Not yet," I said. I let her guide me over to her blanket-strewn bed. Being in her room always made me feel like I was walking into an Instagram post. All the furniture and decorations were very boho-chic and artfully strewn.

  "But you’re going to?" Amber shut the door behind us.

  "Yeah. I mean, I kind of have to, right?"

  I was still staring at my phone. How was I supposed to answer Mr. Pragmatic’s question when I couldn’t even answer my own. I felt like there had to be some semi-prostitutorial etiquette handbook that I had missed out on. What would my day look like tomorrow? I forced myself to respond, even though my mind was still trying to catch up with my actions.