Disclaimers: All characters are over age eighteen. Any statements made about laws, contracts, or courts are fictional and should not be relied upon as legal advice. The plot device used in this story is not original but was taken from ali1bali's literotica story, Selling Our Honeymoon. That plot device is in turn a creative adaptation of the good old-fashioned quibble. I reached out to him before publishing this and offered to credit him for the idea. Nonetheless, my story is very different in terms of structure, characters, and themes. This story will be novel length by its conclusion and takes many twists and turns that aren't always common in the cuckold genre of erotic fiction although there will be plenty of what you'd expect as well. This is as close you'll get to a warning because I don't want to spoil the story. Always make sure you read the fine print before making agreements. I will pay close attention to anyone who contacts me raising concerns about anything I already pointed out above and will make a mental note that he or she is someone who skips reading the fine print.
Prologue
I can't provide you with any simple explanation as to how the two of us got so entangled in these wicked contracts and the enduring humiliations they have caused us, both willing and unwilling, for better or worse. We were once very different people. You'll likely judge us harshly and place the blame on our decisions which were often questionable. Yes, much of it was our own fault. I hate that I have to say this, especially given my own guilt in these matters, but I can't shake the feeling that this was all part of some larger conspiracy. If I am right, there are implications here not just regarding organized crime, but even the supernatural.
I have done my best to recreate these events as detailed and realistically as I can. I was present for much of what happened and remember the events, sometimes vividly. Other things I learned about later through speaking to my wife and other people or conducting my own investigations. I have, on occasion, substituted my own assumptions when necessary to fill some gaps. Our story began like many others. Basically, I was trying to get laid.
Dumpy Apartment Building
It was a Friday night. My girlfriend Judy and I were eating pizza bagels for dinner at her apartment when she suddenly began laughing out of nowhere. It was dark outside, aside from the sounds of traffic from the busy intersection next to the apartment, the sound of music could be heard coming from the bar kitty corner to the apartment building visa via the intersection. Not loud enough to make out what songs were being played but enough that the presence of the bar always loomed over us. The apartment was leased to Judy as I had no place of my own. Instead, I would often crash on Judy's couch. Otherwise, there was always the spare bedroom at my mom's house.
I looked around the room with a blank expression trying to figure out what Judy was laughing at. All that I could hear over the music was the sound of heavy traffic outside and whatever TV show Judy had been streaming that I hadn't been listening to. "Why are you laughing?" I finally asked.
"I got the craziest spam email at my work today," Judy said with a wide grin as she continued to giggle. "It was for some sort of sex auction website." Judy's voice cracked into a chuckle.
"Really?" I asked as I tipped my head to the side. "How'd that make it through your company's firewall? You didn't click on it, did you?"
"I did," Judy said with a sly grin on her face. "They got me with the clickbait. The email asked me how much I'd like to make up to $25,000 for one night of work. I didn't realize it was some gross adult site until after I clicked."
"Twenty-five thousand?" I repeated with an open mouth as I stared back at Judy. "For what, to auction yourself off to some dude? Who on earth would pay that much to have sex with someone? There are some whores down the block that I've seen offer to shag guys for under $300." I walked over and looked through Judy's window. I could see a few scantily dressed women of questionable virtue walking down the street. They were probably going to the bar with the thumping music. But they could be, you know, whores.
"Yeah, but those girls are nasty," Judy chuckled as she watched me scope out the intersection. "I thought the same thing as you. Apparently, there have been a few times women have offered to sell their virginity. I guess some guys are turned on by that type of thing. They were willing to pay big for it. Of course, that's how they clickbait you. That's probably the highest ever bid they've gotten. I bet most girls who use websites like that don't get much at all."
"If they're sending these emails to corpo email addresses, they're probably trying to solicit men to bid, not women to auction themselves off," I responded. "Besides, you are a virgin, Judy. I guess, in theory, you could make that kind of money." Judy was no prude and had no religious or moral objections to premarital sex. In fact, Judy knew I had been with another girl before and wasn't bothered by it. Instead, Judy believed sincerely in advice she had once received that if a man were truly to love her and did not just want to sleep with her, that he would be willing to wait until marriage before sex.
Judy blushed and coughed and cleared her throat before responding, "I doubt it. I mean, I don't know, maybe. I think those times where men bid that much it's probably because it went viral or something. There are a lot of gross, horny guys on the internet. Ugh, can you imagine someone actually auctioning themselves off to a total stranger like that? They'd have to be totally desperate."
An ambulance siren could be heard passing through the intersection. I waited for it to pass before resuming our conversation. "Just be careful clicking on stuff like that at your work," I cautioned. "I know it's probably my paranoia, but I'm always worried we're being spied on all the time. Not us particularly. But, like, everyone. Just the other day I was telling my friend Mark I was going to get Chipotle for dinner and five minutes later there was a commercial for Chipotle on my phone."
Judy rolled her eyes and responded, "I'm sure there's a guy in the back of every Chipotle who gets alerted every time someone says guacamole. Anyways, I called the cell phone company and put us back on a data plan. Starting next week, we have to start conserving data. If you need anything from the internet, let me know while I am at the office and I can take care of it." The television stuttered before it began streaming again. "We're going to have to stop the streaming and put the rabbit ears back up."
"I hate those things," I complained as I shook my head. My mouth crunched down on the last piece of bagel. The greasy cheese, acidic sauce, and salty meat packed a lot of flavor combined together.
"I know," Judy responded as she approached the window and looked outside at the noisy bar across the intersection. "But we really ought to be saving more money."
