The Auction

Something More

Atlas's POV:

"You did a very good job, Amelia. Not one stroke broke his skin. That is very good indeed," Mr. Astor praises his daughter, looking over my back again.

Mistress smiles proudly beside me, continuing to apply an antibacterial cream on me just in case the skin had split a bit. I don't think she really needs to do that, but I don't argue. 

"Atlas did very good too, Dad."

"I am sure he did," Mr. Astor praises, patting my head softly. "He should sleep on his stomach tonight and you should as well. You need a heating pad on your back and shoulders, Amelia. You're going to be very sore tomorrow. You aren't used to using that motion for so long, Love."

"Okay. We are both going to take a little pain medication too," she assures her father, cleaning her hands and having me stand.

"Sounds good..." They stare at one another awkwardly for a moment. "Uhhh be safe?" Amelia blushes deeply, shoving the small plastic wrapper he handed her into her pocket.

"Thanks, Dad... We are going to go now..."

"...Okay." They both still stand there awkwardly, seeming unsure how to just walk away now.

"We don't have a lock on our door or anything, so..."

"We aren't going to come interrupt...things," Mr. Astor assures her and she just nods again.

I gently tug her hand, seeing they might need some help getting out of this overly awkward moment. "Goodnight, Sir." His attention turns to me and he looks me over for a moment before he nods, seeming to let go.

"Goodnight."

Mistress retreats back to our room in a rather distracted manner.

"You alright, Mistress?" She nods and touches her ear, still rather preoccupied with something.

She seems to snap out of it a bit at my question. "Oh. Yes, yes," she murmurs. "I want to get you all washed up, but I don't want to wash off the antibacterial yet."

"Of course, Mistress... May I help you out of that, get you all cleaned up?"

She nods, seeming to come out of her thoughts.

"Anxious are we, Slave?"

"For you, Mistress? Always..." I hesitantly wrap my arms around her, dying to just hold her.

She shuffles into my arms, playing with something in her hand. I pull her hair from her shoulder, trying to see what it is.

The condom?

It was weird enough her dad was the one who handed it to her, especially, since I was there. I expected her to be more embarrassed about it, but she doesn't seem to feel that way at all.

"Do you have uhhh one with you?" Mistress looks up at me expectantly.

"A condom? More? I'll—I can go buy more if you think we'll need them," I offer excitedly.

My back stings still, but oh does it sound like I'm going to have a good night.

"I just don't want to use this one."

She doesn't want to use that condom...

"Oh."

I'm not quite sure what to say. It's quite odd, but maybe it is sentimental for some reason?

"Dad is very... protective of our purity and such. It's kind of like a big deal. Like it's okay now to... be intimate and have a husband and stuff."

I stroke her cheek, leaning to peck her head.