Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Yes, it will work perfectly.” I wait for Samantha to say more, but she doesn’t and I don’t ask. I should’ve known that tactic wouldn’t work on her.
“Done,” the redhead says, but before I can thank her she’s gone to work on another woman's makeup.
“Where is the rest of it? All I’ve been given is this robe and a white thong. There's more than the thong and wings right?” I joke, but then think that really might be all there is for the costume, because I’m here to sell my body after all.
“Of course not.”
Samantha turns walking over to a cabinet pulling out a pair of high heels. When she hands them to me I can't help but stare at them. They’re beautiful four inch heels completely covered in diamond rhinestones that match the jewels that line the angel wings. I quickly strap them on like they might disappear right before my eyes.
“I wanted to check with you one more time about the virgin thing.”
Samantha‘s words pull me away from dreamily admiring my heels.
“What about it? I thought we went over that already?”
“Well, a woman's first time should be handled with care, and if the winner isn’t made aware of this before he takes you for the first time it might cause a problem. Virgins are supposed to have their first coupling here on the property, and your contract holder might not agree to that if he doesn't know. He’s not required to have your first time together be in one of our rooms to monitor for safety. And let’s not forget, virgins make a fortune out there.”
I wonder if that’s the problem. That this is cutting into her bottom line, the more money I rake in, the more money she makes off her ten percent. She really should just call it a finder’s fee. That’s what Samantha does; she finds the women for men.
“Is this about the money?” I ask, cutting right to the chase. I don’t want to beat around the bush; we are on a time crunch here and I’m not sure I want to go out there if she’s going to admit to everyone here that I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin. It’s embarrassing and I’m already barely holding onto my confidence as it is. I’m surrounded by eight other beautiful women who have bodies that will play seductress better than I will. I’m not built with dips and curves in all the right places, I’m tall and lean and barely fill out a B cup. We should be focusing on getting me a push up bra right now, and not about my V card. This was settled days ago or so I thought.
“While most things are about the money Mandy, I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing. My girl’s safety and wellbeing always come first. That’s why I had the Virgin Clause implemented to begin with, but since you’re waiving that protection, I just want to be certain you’re okay with it.”
She doesn’t look offended that I tried to say she was all about the money. I should apologize, because everyone knows Samantha takes care of what she thinks is hers. I should respect how far she’s come in this hungry man-run city of Vegas, but she cuts me off before I can.
“And with you, I don’t have to worry about the money.”
What the hell does that even mean? Is she saying she doesn’t think I’ll go for much or that she thinks I’ll go fast? I'm scared of the answer, so I just don’t ask. I don’t want to take a hit like that before I go out on stage. I’ll stick to what needs to be covered right now.
“Yes I’m sure, I’ll tell him before we…” I pause for a minute looking for the right word to reassure her I’ll be fine “you know, go at it.” I finish. Jesus I couldn’t just say fuck.
“Alright then. You’re a smart strong woman, Mandy, I trust you’ll be able to handle anything he throws at you.”
I hold my tongue at telling her that maybe selling myself isn't the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but the point is moot.
“The rest of my costume?” I ask dropping my robe. I’m standing in just the white thong and heels. My brown hair is long enough cover my small breasts, but I’m still essentially naked.
Samantha doesn’t answer my question, and goes about placing the clear straps around my arms securing the wings in place.
“That’s it,” she says, eyeing me with approval.
“You want me to go out like this? With no freaking top?” My question is ridiculous and I know it. This is Vegas, most women on stage around here are topless. It should be a given and it’s dumb that I’m here auctioning myself off and thinking I wouldn’t be topless myself.