Monster In Your Bed
Prologue: Haunted Precipices
-Alex-
The long hallway was a precipice of dark, thick, clotted air and smoke from expensively imported cigars. With every step I fell deeper into the illusion of strict business and fair game. My escort, an elder man with graying tufts of hair and more wrinkles on his face than a raisin, stopped outside one of many black doors in the all black hall, produced a small gold key from his pocket, and thrust it into the lock. “Bidding begins in ten minutes, Mr. Gaskarth.” The butler informed me as he swung the door open to the small suite. Inside was a bookshelf full of leather clad books and little knickknacks from around the world. The left wall, directly a crossed from the door, is just one large glass window, with a view of a little circular stage, a thin catwalk, and the windows of neighboring suites. My window is directly in front of the little stage, I paid a lot of money for it to be that way.
“Thank you,” I sat down in the heavy leather recliner and leaned back, looking up at the man. He stood by the door for a moment, as if pondering. And then slowly turned back to me.
“If I may make a suggestion, wait until the last one up for show. The others are resale or contentious to the bone.” Jeffrey, the butler, kept his voice low in case the hidden microphones in the room’s corners were already turned on. He walked back to me, opened the buzzer on the side table, smiled at me a little and bowed crisply. “Would you like anything to drink sir?”
“A bottle of scotch,” I said absent mindedly, running my fingers around the edge of the buzzer. This wasn’t the first time I’d ever been in this little suite, waiting in deep anticipation for the event to begin. No, I came at least once a month to preview, maybe even place a few bids if I liked the goods, but very rarely did I buy. If you got lucky they lasted six months, and then they needed to be put down because you could only take the griping for so long. With my short temper I’d never had one last as long as they were supposed to, so it was really just a waste of my money. But…watching was always fun, and since I was in town I was going to take full advantage of my free time.
“Any preferences sir?” Jeffrey asked, already half way out the door to fill my order.
“No.”
“Right away then sir,”
I stood and walked to the bookshelf, taking the time to read through the leather bound titles. Most of them were snobbish titles with nothing more of a concept than to impress whoever chose to sit in this particular room. I’d never had much of a fancy for reading myself, but that didn’t mean that the collections didn’t add a certain splendor to the room. They added a certain class to this hall of hell where the souls of people, of innocent young girls and boys, went to die. Jeffrey returned shortly with my bottle of scotch, a glass, and a bucket of ice for my drinks. He caught me leaving through the first volume of an entirely boring trilogy in Latin that I could hardly leaf through without yawning in contempt. He laughed and set the tray on the side table by my buzzer.
“Sir,” the old man looked at me amused.
“Hm?” I shut the book and put it back on the shelf.
“Bidding is about to begin.”
I nodded and sat. He poured me a drink and chiefly left the room.
The door closed softly behind him as the lights dimmed on the cat walk. The first option, a tawny blonde with no curves and a skeletal frame, was out before my eyes within a minute. She had too big eyes and too hollow cheeks; I could count her ribs from where I sat. But the others were placing bids sporadically. So I hit my buzzer and cleared my throat. “A hundred thousand,” I jumped it by at least twenty grand, and caused a momentary pause in the bidding. And then the prices jumped by hundred after hundred until the girl was bought for a price of nine hundred thousand dollars. Some men have too much money on their hands.
The rest of the auction went on the same as that first girl, I didn’t bid again. It was no use trying to get involved in the boisterous games that the other men were investing in. None of the girls brought out were really eye catching, and a lot of them were covered in deep cuts from where they were bitten by whips. Only two came out without shackles on so far, both were too sallow and weak to fight anyways. Just when I was losing hope, with the count of girls dwindled down to one, she walked out. Her hair was dark, so dark I couldn’t tell if it was brown or black in the diminished light, and her skin was pale, paler than a crisp white sheet hanging on the line to dry. She was put in a red halter topped night gown, see through of course, and a matching thong and brassiere set that set off the darkness in her hair and the paleness of her features. Her body was a bit thicker than I would have expected, they were keeping her well-fed at least, and her curves were sweeter, more sensual than those of any other girl I’d seen before in the showing. She was also walking out without shackles on, her wrists and ankles free to their own devices. But she walked slowly with her chin tipped high and her shoulders back; she was a pro of walking the cat walk. Her numbers went up silently, we all watched entranced as she stole around the pedestal. At first I thought she was preforming one of the carefully orchestrated shows they teach them to do sometimes, to try to make the shows more interesting. And then I realized what the girl was in fact doing. She was trying to get away. The handles rushed forward to stop her, and she struggled against them a fair amount. Her nails flew as she clawed at them, hisses and snarls coming from her thin, beautiful lips. The bidding stopped and the timer began to count down, no one wanted the girl they had all spent so much on. She was more
contentious that the others, more of a fighter, more of a willingly free bird. I smacked my buzzer just before time went out, raising the bid by ten grand. The light went off above my window, I had won.
I looked out at my prize, feeling a proverbial joy in the pit of my stomach. Breaking her was going to be fun.
The long hallway was a precipice of dark, thick, clotted air and smoke from expensively imported cigars. With every step I fell deeper into the illusion of strict business and fair game. My escort, an elder man with graying tufts of hair and more wrinkles on his face than a raisin, stopped outside one of many black doors in the all black hall, produced a small gold key from his pocket, and thrust it into the lock. “Bidding begins in ten minutes, Mr. Gaskarth.” The butler informed me as he swung the door open to the small suite. Inside was a bookshelf full of leather clad books and little knickknacks from around the world. The left wall, directly a crossed from the door, is just one large glass window, with a view of a little circular stage, a thin catwalk, and the windows of neighboring suites. My window is directly in front of the little stage, I paid a lot of money for it to be that way.
“Thank you,” I sat down in the heavy leather recliner and leaned back, looking up at the man. He stood by the door for a moment, as if pondering. And then slowly turned back to me.
“If I may make a suggestion, wait until the last one up for show. The others are resale or contentious to the bone.” Jeffrey, the butler, kept his voice low in case the hidden microphones in the room’s corners were already turned on. He walked back to me, opened the buzzer on the side table, smiled at me a little and bowed crisply. “Would you like anything to drink sir?”
“A bottle of scotch,” I said absent mindedly, running my fingers around the edge of the buzzer. This wasn’t the first time I’d ever been in this little suite, waiting in deep anticipation for the event to begin. No, I came at least once a month to preview, maybe even place a few bids if I liked the goods, but very rarely did I buy. If you got lucky they lasted six months, and then they needed to be put down because you could only take the griping for so long. With my short temper I’d never had one last as long as they were supposed to, so it was really just a waste of my money. But…watching was always fun, and since I was in town I was going to take full advantage of my free time.
“Any preferences sir?” Jeffrey asked, already half way out the door to fill my order.
“No.”
“Right away then sir,”
I stood and walked to the bookshelf, taking the time to read through the leather bound titles. Most of them were snobbish titles with nothing more of a concept than to impress whoever chose to sit in this particular room. I’d never had much of a fancy for reading myself, but that didn’t mean that the collections didn’t add a certain splendor to the room. They added a certain class to this hall of hell where the souls of people, of innocent young girls and boys, went to die. Jeffrey returned shortly with my bottle of scotch, a glass, and a bucket of ice for my drinks. He caught me leaving through the first volume of an entirely boring trilogy in Latin that I could hardly leaf through without yawning in contempt. He laughed and set the tray on the side table by my buzzer.
“Sir,” the old man looked at me amused.
“Hm?” I shut the book and put it back on the shelf.
“Bidding is about to begin.”
I nodded and sat. He poured me a drink and chiefly left the room.
The door closed softly behind him as the lights dimmed on the cat walk. The first option, a tawny blonde with no curves and a skeletal frame, was out before my eyes within a minute. She had too big eyes and too hollow cheeks; I could count her ribs from where I sat. But the others were placing bids sporadically. So I hit my buzzer and cleared my throat. “A hundred thousand,” I jumped it by at least twenty grand, and caused a momentary pause in the bidding. And then the prices jumped by hundred after hundred until the girl was bought for a price of nine hundred thousand dollars. Some men have too much money on their hands.
The rest of the auction went on the same as that first girl, I didn’t bid again. It was no use trying to get involved in the boisterous games that the other men were investing in. None of the girls brought out were really eye catching, and a lot of them were covered in deep cuts from where they were bitten by whips. Only two came out without shackles on so far, both were too sallow and weak to fight anyways. Just when I was losing hope, with the count of girls dwindled down to one, she walked out. Her hair was dark, so dark I couldn’t tell if it was brown or black in the diminished light, and her skin was pale, paler than a crisp white sheet hanging on the line to dry. She was put in a red halter topped night gown, see through of course, and a matching thong and brassiere set that set off the darkness in her hair and the paleness of her features. Her body was a bit thicker than I would have expected, they were keeping her well-fed at least, and her curves were sweeter, more sensual than those of any other girl I’d seen before in the showing. She was also walking out without shackles on, her wrists and ankles free to their own devices. But she walked slowly with her chin tipped high and her shoulders back; she was a pro of walking the cat walk. Her numbers went up silently, we all watched entranced as she stole around the pedestal. At first I thought she was preforming one of the carefully orchestrated shows they teach them to do sometimes, to try to make the shows more interesting. And then I realized what the girl was in fact doing. She was trying to get away. The handles rushed forward to stop her, and she struggled against them a fair amount. Her nails flew as she clawed at them, hisses and snarls coming from her thin, beautiful lips. The bidding stopped and the timer began to count down, no one wanted the girl they had all spent so much on. She was more
contentious that the others, more of a fighter, more of a willingly free bird. I smacked my buzzer just before time went out, raising the bid by ten grand. The light went off above my window, I had won.
I looked out at my prize, feeling a proverbial joy in the pit of my stomach. Breaking her was going to be fun.
Notes
New story! So many ideas! Ahh!Comments and rates and subscriptions would be greatly appreciated.
-DR
So I just stumbled across this and decided to check it out. It is definitely intense, but there's something I like about it... perhaps it's Alex coming around in the last few chapters you wrote, idk. But it's definitely a unique plot line as well.
If you ever choose to pick up with this again, I will definitely be here to read it. You're an amazing writer, and I think this story deserves an ending if you can ever see yourself giving it one.
If not, I really enjoyed what you had of it. Just wanted to leave a comment showing you people are still stumbling across it. I'm not sure if you'll ever even see this or not, but I hope you do.
12/31/16