I finished my glass of champagne as the sleek, black Mercedes swept down the ramp and into the parking garage under the hotel. As agreed, this level was completely empty - no-one would see me arrive.
The chauffeur pulled up next to a fire exit, and climbed out. I checked myself in the mirror one last time before he opened my door and I stepped out into the cold, echoing space.
A security officer came out of the building, and as she held the door for me, my chauffeur handed her my overnight bag.
She didn't speak, but simply led the way down a long hallway, of the type you would find in any hotel basement, anywhere in the world.
We eventually arrived at a door that was ajar, with only darkness visible beyond. The officer stood by the door, waiting her cue, and I discreetly looked her up and down. She was trim, small-breasted, with a short, neat haircut. Her suit fit perfectly, and she exuded calm professionalism. She was the kind of security personnel I was used to, not just some rent-a-cop.
A man's voice came from inside the room. "Gentlemen, I'm told our guest has arrived. I'll ask you to remember one last time that complete and utter discretion is required from you, no matter the outcome of this evening for each of you."
With that, the security officer held the door open for me, and I entered the darkness. I found myself in the center of a low stage, but the bright spotlights prevented me from seeing out at the audience. Even in the darkness, I could feel eyes on me. On the side of the stage, a man in a dark suit stood behind a podium.
"Welcome," he said, "we are ready to proceed. Jane, please prepare her."
The security officer stepped from the shadows and stood in front of me, and indicated discreetly that I should step to my right. I did so.
"Your wrists, please," she said.
I held my hands out to her, and she quickly secured my wrists in leather shackles. A line was lowered from above, and she clipped the chain between the cuffs to it, and then it rose again, lifting my arms lightly over my head.
So this was really happening - I was going to go through with it. In front of me, unseen, were seven of the World's wealthiest men, hand-picked and invited in the greatest secrecy. These were men who were used to having anything they wanted, but tonight they had the chance to bid on something that normally could not be bought - the virginity of a bona fide European Princess. This was why everything had to be so top-secret - imagine if the press found out that I was selling my virtue to the highest bidder - even worse, imagine if Daddy knew!
I had been tempted to wear white, in honour of the occasion, but I look so much better in black, so I had chosen a sumptuous black velvet strapless ballgown, and under it sexy new black lingerie - a garter belt, silk stockings, and a low-cut black lace g-string. To top it, a triple strand of pearls around my delicate throat, and pearl teardrop earrings. My dark hair was piled artfully atop my head, with just one careless, sexy strand hanging down my face.
"The dress, please," said the auctioneer, and Jane stepped behind me and began to unclip the fasteners. As she moved downward, the cups began to lean forward from my bust, and eventually the entire gown dropped to my feet, exposing my body to the glare of the spotlights.
I knew every eye in the room was on my breasts, and well they might be - they were generous, high and firm. The press had had many complimentary things to say about them when I was photographed in a bikini last season.
I stepped out of the discarded gown, and Jane tossed it off the stage.
"And now the panties, please."
Jane crouched down behind me, and hooked her fingers under the waistband, then slowly pulled my panties down. I instinctively clenched my thighs and buttocks, so she had to tug a little, but then the silky fabric slid down deliciously over my thigh-high stockings to my ankles, and I stepped out of them, holding each foot up long enough for her to get the panties over my shoes. I stood there, in just jewelry, shoes, garter belt and stockings, giving the room their first view of my bare, freshly waxed pussy. I thought I heard a few murmurs, but it was hard to tell.
After a few moments, "Jane?" inquired the auctioneer, "if you don't mind proceeding?
She crouched in front of me and secured another leather cuff around each of my ankles. She tapped my feet to indicate that I should move them apart. She had to do it several times, until my feet were about thirty-six inches apart, then attached the chain on each cuff to loops in the floor, securing me in place. As she did so, I noticed that she kept sneaking glances at my bare pussy. I wondered if she could smell my growing dampness. Finally, she nodded to someone unseen, and the line above me pulled tighter, stretching me until about half my weight was on my wrists. I didn't hurt, but it was humiliating. Humiliating, and very, very arousing.
Jane stepped away, and the auctioneer spoke again.
"Gentlemen, before we begin the bidding, you may examine what is on offer. You may touch, but please, no penetration - that pleasure is reserved for the winner."
From the darkness in front of me a group of men emerged. Their position in society was betrayed by their perfectly tailored suits and the confident way in which they carried themselves. They were a varied group in appearance, after all, there are billionaires all over the world, but they were all exceedingly handsome - I had made sure invitations went only to men I found attractive, after all, this was my body we were talking about.
They gathered around, and I quickly felt hands all over my body - feeling my hair, my breasts, my nipples, my ass, my legs, and of course, my pussy. There were constantly fingers jostling for position between my legs, stroking my lips, my clit, circling the prize, spreading my growing wetness around, but they all respected the only rule.
Soon my skin was tingling all over. I closed my eyes and reveled in the delicious touch of them, desiring me, aching for me, hoping to win a night with me, to be the first man to enter me. I imagined how hard their cocks must be right now, and wished I could have them all.
I half opened my eyes and looked around at them. Suddenly, I realized there were only six men, even though I had invited seven. Had one declined? Was one of the men I had chosen not interested in me? Then, outside the pool of light, I discerned another shape. There was number seven, but why didn't he come forward?
The auctioneer coughed discreetly, and the hands began to withdraw, and the men returned to their seats. At the last moment, the man in the dark stepped forward. He had thick, black, curly hair and a sensuous mouth. He leaned in close, and I could smell his devastating cologne. He locked eyes with me, and slid one hand down between my legs, cupping my pussy, then dipped his middle finger into my juices. I gasped - he hadn't gone in far, but he had gone in. He lifted his hand up from my crotch, brushing across my clit, and, maintaining eye contact, tasted his finger. My knees quivered, and suddenly my wrists were bearing my full weight. He quickly turned and disappeared into the darkness, leaving me panting, my breasts heaving. I struggled to regain my footing and my composure, and the auction began.
