Ryan's serene

chapter one

Serenity

This has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I mean, it’s not the most original idea. Girls and women of all ages sell their virginity, so it’s not like I’m doing anything shocking, not really. I’m twenty one years old. I’ve dropped out of college because the money is needed for my young sister. I’ve gotten sole custody of her after my parents death, and she’s sick, really sick. I have to do this for her so that we can get away and also so he doesn’t try to get her back if for whatever reason they give him parole or something like that. Because he is son of a rich person even though not super rich but this society runs on only one means that is money if that teacher bastard's father tries to do any underhanded ways to get him out of the prison, even though his elder brother promised me that his abuser brother will serve in prison until completion of his sentence. I can't take risks. I must treat my sister before that.

I still don't know the reason why his own brother treats his younger brother in such a way. but that elder one's intense gaze at me warns me that I must stay as far away as possible from him.

Our mother and father died after being run over by a drunk driver, after that my sister's responsibility falls on me. It fills me with guilt to think he was able to get his hands on my sister and I didn’t even see it. Not that he needed to worry about that. He’d been manipulating her so she didn’t really have a choice in saying no to him. At first she fought against him, then he manipulated her and made her think that their relationship was based on love. How could he do that she is barely reached 14, how could she able to understand what love is.

The doctors said a lot of things were needed for her. How she was at a critical point and I had to make sure she got the best care possible because she’d attempted suicide and she was brainwashed by that bastard to love him, to accept his brand of “love.” Either way, there is no way I couldn’t do this.

I love my sister, and I’m not going to lie, the guilt eats at me, knowing my sister's most of the night outs were not for her studies with her friends but with that teacher.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I focus on the room around me. The room that would serve for a virgin stripping.

It wasn’t that big of a deal. Just a thin piece of skin, really. A pain that was going to serve to bring me the most money. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I wonder what to do. Finding this place hadn’t been difficult. Just asking a few of the girls at college had led me right here, to deflo. Yeah, it’s so cliché, right, Deflower? That is the name of the nightclub. What I didn’t know was the owner, Dylan Johnson, had a side business of auctioning off girls’ virginities. Yep, that he certainly did.

Kind of scary when I think about it.

Strange too.

Meeting him had been a surreal experience. I sat in his office while he stared at my body, assessing me like I was a piece of steak. At first, I didn’t think he’d go for someone like me. I’m not exactly on the slim side but have curves, from big t**s to huge hips, rounded thighs with just a hint of cellulite. He’d made me stand up, turn around, look this way and that, and he’d actually seemed impressed.

There were three options to pick from on how to sell my virginity. At first, I thought he meant either online, in a room full of men, and photos to be taken to send them to the clients.

Nope.

But my options were this; I could have the fairytale deflowering, which is all kinds of weird in itself. I guess that is why dylan is so popular though. He caters to most people. The fairytale deflowering is where a man buys me, we have a nice date, it ends with s*x. Something beautiful for the first time. For me, it sounded a little too personal, too intimate, and besides, I needed more money. Dylan had been clear that the cost of the date and experience would come out of the final payment.

Intimacy.

Feelings.

Emotion.

I didn’t want that. None of it. Also, I needed more money, and I wasn’t going to waste it on a date I didn’t need or want.

So, option two. I don’t get the date or the fairy tale. The guy doesn’t give me the time of my life. I stay in a room and wait to see who has decided to purchase my very precious cherry. From there, we f**k. There is no niceness. No pleasantries. Just s*x. A business contract, signed and sealed, and finished with a d**k. They have a portfolio of women who want to make money off their first s****l experience. And third one, they create a fantasy that girl's first time as their first night on a flowery decorated bed after the wedding, well they skip the wedding and just create the room as a first night fantasy like a theme.

All I had to know was which one paid the most. Dylan takes his cut of ten percent, but after that it varies with the customer. He told me that some girls had sold for over six figures because the demand had been that great. He wouldn’t accept anything less than ten grand. After all, we were offering something of a lifetime. Not only that, his clientele were wealthy bastards who enjoyed paying for something exclusive.

It would seem virgins are hard to come by these days.

Rubbing my hands together, I see the small blue braid bracelet my sister made for me a few years ago. She told me that she’d put a special spell on it so no one would ever hurt me. Damn it. I should have been the one protecting her, and while she’d been hurting, I’d been oblivious.

Batting away my tears, I stand up and pace. My nerves are shot.

Tonight, I’ll be having s*x with a stranger, and it won’t be giving me the fairy tale either or a fantasy wedding night. I’m quite happy about that actually. I don’t want both. I was never one to love a prince. I loved the beast and always felt ripped off that he didn’t turn back. Why would anyone want a weak prince when they could have that incredible beast of a man?

See, weird. Totally weird.

There are no windows in the room. Just one door. A large, four-poster bed dominates the room, and they have a thing about mirrors as well.

So many mirrors that no matter where I look, I see myself.

My brown hair is a mess from running my fingers through it. My eyes are wide. I’m a little afraid. Terrified, really. The clothes I’m wearing are nothing s****l. Dylan told me I didn’t have to dress up, that part of the charm of option two was the realness of it all.

Why did I opt to just get f****d?

This is business.

I had always fantasized about what my first time would be like. Touching a man, being touched. Not once did I think it would be to the highest bidder. Still, not having the dream experience means that more security is in place. There would be a man posted outside the door just in case.

If at any point the mystery man decides to use his fists, or hurt me, I’m to scream. The guard would be in and all will be okay. He’d deal with the man and I’d still get paid.

The fear is back.

I’ve never been good when it comes to pain.

I’m the kind of person who cries when she cuts her finger. Wow, this is going to suck big time.

Staring straight ahead, I feel my heart pound, which gets worse as I hear a knock on the door.

I glance around the room. Should I answer? Why are they knocking?

Biting my lip, I can’t stop frowning.

The knock comes again.

“Who is it?” What else am I supposed to say? This isn’t my home, nor is it my room. This was just for one night.

“May I come in?”

His voice is dark and deep.

My heart rate triples.

Shit.

This is really happening.

I’ve sold my virginity, and now I have to pay the price.

“Yes, of course.” I hate how nervous I sound. Does he hear it? He doesn’t enter straight away.

I count how long I wait for him to come inside.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

The door finally opens. I look away, almost afraid of who I’ll find entering the room. There isn’t any window, and my fear no longer feels justified.

I did this.

The man has bought me for the night, but this is all me.

Every single part of it.

I turn and look at him.

He isn’t what I was expecting.

The man standing by the door is indeed older; late thirties maybe. Not that I can tell all that much from staring at him. He looks at me, his hands by his sides, but he doesn’t seem nervous.

No.

Staring into his deep blue eyes, I am taken aback by how he watches me, assessing. There is something dark beneath that gaze that keeps me on the spot.

This is the man who’s purchased me.

For one night he owns me, and because I didn’t demand the fairy tale or fantasy, it doesn’t have to be sweet and nice.

I wanted the darkness, and from the look on his face, he is more than willing to give it to me.

“Stand up,” he says.

I do exactly as he said.

Fighting is useless.

Bowing my head, I wonder how long the carpet’s been laid. It looks old, almost vintage. Maybe that is the appeal here. It reminds me of something you’d see in an old movie where the girl was put up for sale.

Okay, now I’m just trying to pretend my imagination isn’t that f****d up.

This isn’t a imagination, far from it.

“Strip.”

I don’t even know his name.

Not that it matters. I won’t tell him mine.

Kicking off my sneakers, I start working on the buttons of my shirt. He still hasn’t moved.

I give him my back as I go to unsnap my bra. His voice holds me to the spot.

“No, I want to see. Turn back around. Show me.”

My cheeks are on fire.

I’ve never been spoken to like that before.

Without looking at him, I slowly remove my bra, feeling my t**s spring out. I’ve always been well-blessed in the chest department.

No one else has ever seen them.

There are a lot of firsts going on tonight.

When I finally get to my panties, I hesitate.

“All of it.”

There is no need to get scared. If he hurts me in any way unless I want it, I can call out to the guard.

Wriggling out of my panties, I clasp my fingers together, hoping my long hair will in some way cover my body.

I’m not used to showcasing my naked self.

The room is nice and warm though.

“Turn around.”

Slowly, I move in a circle so that he’ll see all of me.

“Come here.”

His instructions are starting to grate on my nerves, each word an irritation. All I have to do is remember my sister in the hospital and it propels me forward.

There’s no way I’d be here for any other reason than my sister.

The man, my owner—I’m thinking of naming him Blue—grips my chin and tilts my head back.

“There it is. There’s that fire I saw.”

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