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This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental.
© obohobo 2012
"Buy me Sir ... Please."
Clive Ross put down his coffee, glanced again at the photocopied leaflet on the cafeteria table and looked up at the shabbily dressed student standing opposite him. He'd seen her around the university campus and knew that she, like him, was a first year undergraduate student, she on a vocational course while he studied organic chemistry.
"At the auction on Friday night, Sir, will you bid for me please?"
"I didn't intend going."
"Sorry, Cliff, in my class said you would go and might buy a girl for the Christmas period as a live-in housemaid to do chores and stuff."
"There'll be other bidders there."
"Yes, but I'm told they'll most likely be older men and you have your own house and live there alone and might need help with the cleaning and other things," a tear trickled down her face before she went on, "And when they close the dorms for Christmas, I'll have no where to live and no money for a hostel. I'd do everything you wanted Sir, everything."
"And mother and my girlfriend, Stephanie, would be put me through hell. Can't you stay with your parents like most other students?"
"Mother remarried and moved to France. Her new husband wants nothing to do with me. I don't know where dad is now but when I last heard he was in the merchant navy. Oh please, consider buying me. I'm sure I wouldn't cost much and I'll only need a bed and some food, nothing more."
Seeing her downcast, forlorn expression he relented a little. "I have a lecture in ten minutes, when does your last class finish ... er?"
"Chris, Christine Shearman. Usually a little after four."
"Hi, Chris, I'm Clive, Clive Ross, how about you meet me at the rear entrance to C block when you finish and we can talk about it then."
Throughout the afternoon, Ross's chemistry notes became entwined with his thoughts on Christine, the auction and what she meant by, 'I'd do everything you wanted Sir, everything'. The auction, run by a student group, raised money for a local charity by businesses donating goods or people offering their services for periods ranging from a few hours to several weeks. To comply with a legal requirement not to provide sexual services, girls, and some men too, offered themselves as housemaids and when they went on stage to state their offer, they dressed scantily and showed their assets to the best advantage but in their advertising speech, they only offered to do general maids work and would live in with the buyer. Those who were not offering sex as part of the package, simply agreed to a number of hours of housework and didn't live in. The bid price at auction went to the charity but those who covertly offered sex as an extra, expected a large tip from the bidder.
"I wonder what pressure forced a girl like her to offer herself to me for sex? Money, no doubt as she said. I wonder if she's trying to get some of mine? Didn't seem like it and she didn't even hint at a tip for her services and when I've seen her around she's not been with other boys or flirting like many of the girls at Uni. She didn't strike me as being a whore either, certainly she doesn't dress like one and her skinny body and small tits wouldn't make her attractive to most men but I'm not all that keen on show-it-all, bossy girls. I have enough of that with Stephanie. Sounded like Chris might be forced to spend Christmas on the streets if no one bought her; not a good idea for a girl of her age. Maybe one of the charities that put people up in churches for the Christmas period will take her in, not that that would be very nice for her and she's likely to be preyed upon by homeless men. From the little time I spent with her, she seemed nice enough but Mother will have a fit if I take Chris home and say that I'd bought her as a slave girl and, although we don't live in the same house now, she'd certainly come storming round as soon as she heard especially after the way she engineered Stephanie's parents to agree to her becoming my girlfriend. I know they are looking to us getting married but I've put that off for another three years until I finish the course at university. It would certainly knock Steph's snooty nose well out of joint if I took Chris into my bed, but at least with her I should get a fuck instead of being put off every time I try to do more than kiss the girl who is supposed to be my girlfriend. Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing and make her realise that she has to give as well as receive and perhaps by the end of the course I will have found someone I really like and not someone who is being pushed on to me by parents. Can't see it being a waif like Chris though, but perhaps I'll find out a little more about her when we meet later and if I do my knight in shining armour bit, I'll get something out of it too." Clive let his thoughts wonder as he sat in the Library until the four o'clock time to meet with Chris.
Her mind wandered too but sanding panels for a bedside table, didn't require any serious thought. "What will I do if he doesn't take me to his home? Trust to luck on the street? Offer to be a live-in housemaid to anyone at the auction? With my figure, or lack of it, only the worst kind of men will bid on me and I might end up with more problems than I have now. Somehow I have to persuade him to take me even if I have to offer to be his sex slave. That shouldn't be a problem as I still have enough contraceptive pills left to last until the New Year. I wonder what his house is like? He's reputed to be very rich but he doesn't show it and from what Cliff said, he doesn't go to many of the Uni parties. Perhaps he'll suspect I'm a gold digger and I'll need to convince him that I'm not; all I want is a room over the holiday period and food in my belly."
"I've booked a table for us at Renalto's for Friday evening. It's a Christmas dinner and dance and all the best people will be there. Very formal so you'll need to get your suit and bow tie out and look smart. I've bought a new dress for the occasion and will have my hair done on Friday afternoon. Make sure yours is cut too and you have a proper shave before we set out so there's no five o'clock shadow or stubble. Get a taxi and pick me up at 7:30."
Stephanie babbled on without giving Ross a chance to get a word in until he almost shouted into the phone, "Stephanie, stop and listen. I've made other arrangements for Friday evening and I won't be going to the dinner. You should have told me earlier and saved yourself the expense. Or perhaps find someone else to go with."
"Cancel your arrangements, what's so important that you cannot be with me?"
"I've promised to attend a Charity Auction and I really can't back out of it. Sorry, you'll have to cancel or go alone or find another partner?"
"You can't do this to me, I'm your girlfriend, your fiancée, what so important about an auction?"
"There's an item that will never come up for sale again and I just have to buy it."
Once again Stephanie let forth a tirade of invective and pleas and only let him say a few words but he wouldn't break his word to Chris and didn't mention her to Stephanie.
Nervously Christine stood on the platform in her mismatched charity shop clothes and looked at the audience hoping and praying Clive would keep his word and be there. He'd mentioned the row with his girlfriend and how his mother and her, tried to force him to go to Renalto's and when she couldn't see him, she wondered if he'd succumbed to the pressure. "I am offering six hours housework a day for the Christmas period. I can live in," she stuttered. For a few moments no one spoke. No one lifted their card. Who would want a woman doing housework for six hours a day during the holiday festivities?
The bidding started at £50 and slowly climbed to £80 and stuck there. She saw the bald-headed man two rows from the front raise his numbered card and tears flowed down her face at the thought of staying with him. Had Clive deserted her?
"£100!" Clive's voice rose above the comments from the crowd seconds before the auctioneer struck his gavel on the block.
University didn't end until the following Tuesday, but in the discussions they'd had the day before the auction, Clive agreed to take Chris home immediately afterwards and she would spend the weekend with him as his 'sex slave', a term she'd used, partially in jest, earlier. "If I go to the auction dressed like this," she'd indicated her normal working clothes, "The bids will probably be low and if I only offer work time, you should get me as a cheap sex slave and afterwards I will only need feeding so my being with you won't cost you a lot and I will do housework as well."
"How far are you prepared to go with being a sex slave? I need to know what your limits are to avoid doing something that you are unprepared to do."
Desperate to get him to take her home, Chris replied, "Anything that doesn't hurt too much or leaves lasting marks or makes me sick."
Now, sitting in his car and being driven to a village well outside of the town and the university, she began to worry over what might, and indeed could, happen to her when alone in a house with Clive. He'd seemed nice and reassuring so far but would that change when lust took over?
.... There is more of this story ...