Made for Auction

By Jack Brighton

What happens to a ‘naughty public schoolboy’ when still at the tender age of eighteen he’s considered too old to play that role at The Wild Side – London’s raunchiest and most exclusive gay nightclub, where rich and powerful men play games of debauchery?
Take a chance! Do something adventurous! And maybe, just maybe, find the life of your dreams. That was the advice the hero of this story was given.
That chance manifests itself at Bears Den – a slave training stable, owned by the same man who owns The Wild Side - Big Bad Angus MacLeod. In the course of ten weeks, the former naughty schoolboy, Dylan Sinclair, is pushed through the course, joining eleven other stunning trainees from around the world. At the hands of various masters he will receive expert tuition. It’s a wild adventure full of ups and downs, all leading up to the big event – a return to The Wild Side where these men who have been ‘Made for Auction’ at Bears Den will come under the hammer and sold to the highest bidder where a new adventure awaits them in the hands of an unknown master. But who could possibly master Dylan when his heart belongs to another slave - the enigmatic Paddy McGuire?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Firm Hand Books
• Release date: Apr 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476198743

Jack Brighton

Jack Brighton is a British author who specialises in M/M erotica - most of which, but by no means all, falls into the category of BDSM - a way of life that he has rich experience of. There are romantic overtones in some of his work, but you tend to get what it says on the label. All the books fall under the banner 'Flaming Hot Gay BDSM' or 'Flaming Hot Gay Erotica', so don't expect anything else. But do expect them to be flaming hot, with plenty of storyline and character development. A dry sense of humour also features, and a very vivid imagination. He is best known for his 'Tales from The Wild Side' series, where that imagination runs riot.Jack was brought up in a mining community in the west of Scotland, took his degree at Stirling, did a year's post- graduate in Edinburgh, then moved south to London, where he taught for a few years before moving into the finance sector, based in The City. Many of his stories draw on this background - as a gay man trying to find himself in what was more often than not a hostile environment.Having given up the rat race, Jack became a full time writer in 2010. He now lives in Brighton with his long term partner.Jack has also written mainstream fiction under the pen name J. K. Brighton.

Book preview

Made for Auction

A Tale from The Wild Side

(Flaming Hot Gay BDSM)

By Jack Brighton

Copyright Jack Brighton, April, 2012

Published by Firm Hand Books at Smashwords

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Please note: this is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is for sale to adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store the material where it cannot be accessed by minors.

All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. As a piece of erotic fantasy where licence can be taken, certain scenes involve unprotected sex. This has been done to enhance the story.

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Next Book in the Series - Fisting Night at The Wild Side Extract

Jack Brighton’s Flaming Hot Gay BDSM Collection

His Nemesis Trilogy Extract – His Nemesis

The Nabster SeriesExtract – Nabbed!

OtherBDSM Books Extract – The Devil’s Mark

Jack Brighton’s Flaming Hot Gay Erotica Collection

Erotica Books Extract –Private Education

About the Author

Author’s Note on the ‘Tales from The Wild Side’

The Wild Side is a fictional gay nightclub situated in London’s Soho district, where extremely wealthy and powerful men enjoy games of sexual debauchery. The series of books which comprise the ‘Tales from The Wild Side’ is centred on the club and the people who are involved with it. All the books have a gay erotic theme with a strong BDSM slant.

Each book is a stand-alone work and they can be read in any order. There is a chronological sequence, however, which would make sense to follow if all the books are to be read. The sequence of books to date are:

Welcome to The Wild Side

A Taste of The Wild Side

Made for Auction

Fisting Night at The Wild Side

Christmas at The Wild Side

The Wild Side of Paddy McGuire

A Walk on The Wild Side

An Angel Falls to The Wild Side

The Taming of Gangster Gaz

Boot Camp Week

Reaching for The Wild Side

Look to The Wild Side

Chapter 1

In one of London’s more fashionable eateries, Dylan Sinclair was being treated to an outrageously expensive lunch. The food had been ordered and the wine had arrived to be grudgingly approved by the connoisseur of the group. All around there was chatter, which was abruptly curtailed when Dylan imparted his devastating news.

Too old! screeched Marco, a seriously hot Italian with dazzling good looks and a fiery Latin temper to match. His twenty-fifth birthday was on the horizon and age was a sensitive subject with this milestone fast approaching. Too old! Don’t be ridiculous!

Marco! Please! Keep your voice down, people are looking! urged Sven, an equally gorgeous ice cool Swede, who was five months younger and infinitely more pragmatic.

I don’t give a damn about people looking! shouted Marco all the louder, ignoring the advice of his Nordic buddy. "It’s when people stop looking that I’ll start to worry. Marco paused to raise his glass to all the spectators in the restaurant. A sip was taken of the New Zealand sauvignon, which in the absence of the wine waiter was enjoyed by him all the more. Then with a shake of his head Marco looked to his young friend in disbelief. Sorry, Dylan, but how can you be too old, you’re only eighteen for goodness sake?"

Too old for a schoolboy apparently. It was made clear at the outset that the role could only be played for three months. Of course I was happy with that as I had planned to go to college after the summer, but…

But what? quizzed Sven, a look of worry on his face.

But I failed all my exams! blurted Dylan. I got the results last week. Not a single pass. I even failed history, which in a way I’m pleased about. Serves that deceitful sod Baxter right. He messed me around and now I’ve messed up his perfect pass record.

Oh dear. Why didn’t you say? asked Sven reaching out to stroke poor Dylan’s hand.

You weren’t around. Where have you been anyway? I’ve really missed you.

New York! declared Marco rather gleefully, ignoring Dylan’s concerns for the moment. Manhattan to be exact. Our master has decided to conquer the States at long last and is in the process of opening a new club. Naturally I was needed to advise on the wines to be stocked, and other beverages Americans might like. Sven, for some reason, was consulting on the decor – I fear that austere Swedish minimalism will be inflicted on the clientele... Of course our master required us to be present for other things as well, but it would be improper to go into those details.

Couldn’t you have kept in touch? asked Dylan.

Sorry, said Sven. We were under instruction to keep quiet on the matter and speak to no one involved with the London club. Our master wanted everything well progressed before making it known what he was planning. Anyway, we’re back now... here’s to us.

Sven raised his glass. Marco did likewise. Dylan followed suit and managed to smile. It was such a relief to see his friends again – the best friends he had by a long, long way. Sadly their lives were very unpredictable, and spending time together could never be guaranteed. Sven and Marco were what Dylan termed ‘proper slaves’ – men who were owned by a master. In their case the notorious proprietor of The Wild Side, Angus MacLeod, or Big Bad Angus to his enemies and friends.

Dylan had met Sven and Marco the week before he started working at that club. They had been tasked by their master to assist in Dylan’s induction for his role as the naughty schoolboy – a task which was carried out under the overall control of Angus MacLeod’s other slave, Paddy McGuire. Naturally the induction had involved at lot of practical experience, as had the subsequent training they had kindly given Dylan, which meant the teenager had a very intimate knowledge of these men.

The food arrived. A dish that Marco had ordered on Dylan’s behalf was placed in front of him. It looked like a work of art and would undoubtedly be delicious, but Dylan had no appetite – he was feeling so miserable, he might as well have been on Death Row and this was his last meal. Marco, however, had no such problems as he attacked his food with relish.

Don’t look so worried, Dylan! encouraged Sven, the more sensitive of the two friends.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to dampen the mood. How was New York then? I take it you managed to get out and do some shopping, Marco.

With a fork half way to his mouth, Marco looked up and shrugged his shoulders. A little, he said then the food was wolfed down.

A little! chortled Sven. He spent half his free time traipsing around the boutiques on Madison Avenue. The rest, as you might guess, was spent deciding where we should eat.

I bought for everyone, not just me, Marco protested. Our master expects us all to look stylish and it’s my job to ensure it. Thankfully I take my role seriously.

Seriously! laughed Sven. You’re fanatical when it comes to clothes. I’m surprised our master didn’t take a whip to your back for spending so much of his money.

Ha! Listen to him! Marco harped. If anyone deserved a thrashing it’s our so called art expert here. Over a hundred thousand dollars he managed to waste on some piece of junk.

It’s a Frolov!

It’s an eyesore!

Philistine!

Idiot!

The lads continued like this for a few moments, slating each other off like an old married couple. Dylan smiled at their bickering. It was all so good-natured, Sven and Marco clearly adoring each other. They were soul-mates of sorts – a very unusual partnership who lived in an unusual world: slaves who had been trained together and sold as a pair. They obviously loved each other, although Dylan had never heard them use such a term. But they also had a master whom they worshipped as well and obeyed without question – a dominant element they both needed in their lives. It was an odd arrangement, but it definitely worked for them. They both seemed so content and fulfilled. They also had Paddy McGuire as a fellow slave, another huge piece of good fortune in Dylan’s opinion, and something he’d happily trade his right arm for.

So you had a good time then, Dylan declared, interrupting the playful squabble. Clothes, art, fancy restaurants every night, and a deserving master to attend to... You’re very lucky. I wish...

Wish what? Sven asked, returning his attention immediately back to Dylan.

I wish... I just wish I could see you more - that’s all. I’m glad you’re back. Maybe now you’ll visit the club again – it would be nice to see... I mean, it would be nice to meet your master at long last.

Sven looked at him quizzically, his clinical brain working at high speed. He allowed Marco to pick up the thread as he thought a few things out.

Meet our master? Yes, it is rather odd that your paths haven’t crossed. But I should imagine that will happen soon enough, said the Italian. "After such a long absence, he’ll want to come to the club and check things out. But be warned - you might find it strange... seeing us with our master. You have to appreciate that we behave differently when in his company, especially in public. And I mean that all of us behave differently – including Paddy."

Dylan blushed at the name. He toyed with his food but still didn’t eat. How is he? he managed to asked.

Paddy? Grumpy as sin. Mainly through exhaustion I should imagine, replied Marco. When we were in New York, the randy old goat was given the task of auditioning potential workers for the new club. He probably fucked his way through several dozen men, yet it still didn’t seem to put a smile on his face. Although I have to admit, I quite like it when the big animal’s in such a foul mood. My ass is still tender from the brutal shafting he gave me this morning.

Marco! snapped Sven.

What? asked a bewildered Italian, then guessing wrongly he added, Okay, so he did you as well. I’m not claiming to be his favourite.

That’s not what I meant, you insensitive sod!

Insensitive? Oh for goodness sake, don’t start on that again! Dylan knows fine well that Paddy is allowed to screw us whenever he pleases, and screw other men as well, which he does very regularly and with no small amount of skill. He’s a promiscuous rogue who looks like a god and fucks like one as well. It’s why we all adore him so much… And why Dylan welcomed him to his bed on more than one occasion. Isn’t that right, Caro Mio?

I suppose so, quipped Dylan, admitting to the fact. He did call round a couple of times after that night we all spent at the club… He could see Marco waiting on more, the Italian a magpie when it came to collecting gossip. But Dylan was in no mood to elaborate. There was another matter he wanted to hear about. …Is there something wrong with him? he asked concerned, not believing for a second that Paddy could ever suffer from sexual exhaustion – his track record with him suggesting that the Irishman had more stamina than a prize stud bull when it came to fornication.

Nothing physically wrong, answered Marco. Perhaps New York didn’t agree with him. Or maybe something else is troubling him, I don’t know. But I shouldn’t worry, Caro Mio. I’m sure it will get sorted one way or the other. Having delivered this response which raised more questions than it answered, Marco took another sip of wine before innocently asking, Has he called you since our return?

No he hasn’t, was Dylan’s rather sulky reply, having been praying for a call from the moment he’d heard the news that Angus MacLeod and his three slaves were back in London. Paddy clearly wasn’t grumpy because he’d been missing him whilst in New York - that was for sure. Not that he ever expected such a thing. Mr McGuire wasn’t the type to pine after a young lad. It was one of his many infuriating attractions. Anyway, enough about Paddy, he said, drawing a line for the time being. I’ve got a problem and I need some advice. In less than a week’s time I’m going to be unemployed, unless I decide to stay on at the club and work in the main room as a whore. Mr Charles said he would give me a month’s trial in there, so at least I have that to fall back on.

I don’t think that’s such a great idea, said Sven, who thought as he talked and nibbled at some food. It’s a very demanding job compared to your current role, and can be rather demeaning. I doubt if you’d like it. Have you any alternatives?

No! Not unless I work for a pittance, said Dylan, his panic resurfacing. I’m really worried. I mean, other that whoring, I’ve no real talent or skills. I flunked my exams, so don’t have any decent qualifications. Not that there’s much work around anyway – half the kids my age are unemployed, even ones with degrees can’t get a job. There’s no way I’m going home – my mother resents me and would make my life hell – not that I’d want to go back to boring Tunbridge Wells. My life is here in London now. This is where I want to stay.

What about Mr Daley? asked Marco brightly. I thought he’d taken quite a shine to you. Couldn’t you become his plaything whilst you look around for something else?

I don’t want to be his plaything! snapped Dylan. Nor would he want me as such. He’s a really nice man, and the sex is great, fabulous in fact, but it wouldn’t be right for either of us to take it beyond the club. He doesn’t want a commitment, and I want… Well, I don’t want him in that sort of way.

Of course you don’t, said Sven, empathy pouring from his pale blue eyes.

You could go on the game then! said Marco cheerfully, a remark that earned him a cuff round the ear from his fellow slave.

That’s hardly a good idea, Sven said sharply. Working the main room at The Wild Side would admittedly be demanding, but working the streets is an entirely different proposition. There are some who operate at the top level of male prostitution and make good money from it, but for most it’s a hard and dangerous life.

Then what could I do? asked Dylan in desperation.

Sven nodded his head – his brain still turning, but an outline of an idea had formed. Take a chance, perhaps! he offered. Do something adventurous! And maybe, just maybe, if you’re lucky, you could end up having the life of your dreams.

What do you mean? Dylan asked perplexed.

Sven raised his hand to stop further questions. I have an idea, but you must leave it with me for the time being... Now eat! If things go to plan then you’re going to need all your strength!

Chapter 2

Beep! Beep!

Dylan rushed to the window and gazed down onto the street. He saw it immediately – how could he not, it was impossible to miss - a sparkling navy blue chrome affair with the hood rolled down. Dylan knew nothing about cars. He hadn’t even learned to drive as yet, but he was guessing it was Italian, and a very expensive one at that.

But it wasn’t the flash car that made Dylan’s heart soar – it was the man who was sitting at the wheel. The auburn hair, those emerald green eyes, the splattering of freckles on his achingly handsome face, the wonderfully proportioned muscular build that couldn’t be disguised by sitting in the car – Dylan would recognise him anywhere. He was being collected by Paddy McGuire!

Despite his annoyance that Paddy had made no contact since returning to London, Dylan beamed from ear to ear – his legs almost gave way beneath him. Sven hadn’t mentioned this when he’d called the previous day to say that his master had agreed to give Dylan another opportunity. An opportunity for what, Dylan had no idea, for Sven had refused to give any details.

Just be ready tomorrow at noon, was the instruction Sven had