“Perfect.” She lifts a handheld scanner, sweeps it over my mask, then taps at the tablet in front of her, eyes moving like she’s confirming something I’m not supposed to know.
A moment later, another woman steps out of the main doors and heads straight for me.
“I’m Kira.” She offers me her hand, and I take it. “Come on. I’ll bring you to the back and get you dressed.”
“I have a dress.” I glance down at myself.
“And it’s lovely.” One corner of her mouth lifts. “But every auction participant wears one of our gowns. Come on. I’ll show you.”
She turns toward the club, and I follow, trying to prepare myself for what I’m about to see.
The bass thumps louder as we enter. The main floor opens wide beneath a high ceiling washed in deep purple and blue light. At the center, a chandelier made of chains and crystals glitters above the dance floor where masked bodies sway together in slow, intimate rhythms. Hands slide over backs and hips, people kissing and touching shamelessly, though their clothes seem to be mostly on…
I keep to the edge of the dance floor as I continue to follow her, weaving around bodies without letting anyone brush me. We turn right, the space opening into a hallway with doors lining both sides, some shut tight, others open wide.
I tell myself to mind my business, but I take a peek anyway.
In one room, a woman kneels on a padded bench, wrists bound behind her, breasts covered in pink jeweled pasties, the rest of her bare. A man in a tux pounds into her, one hand tangled lightly in her hair, the other resting lazily around a glass of dark liquor. She’s moaning against the gag in her mouth, like this is the best night of her life.
Heat grows between my legs, and I try to ignore it, but it’s impossible. I’ve never watched anyone like this, nor could I ever imagine myself doing that. I force my gaze away, but it doesn’t matter. Kirill is already there in my mind, his hands on me, his mouth warm against my skin while everyone here watches.
In the next doorway, a man hangs from the ceiling by his wrists, arms stretched wide while a woman stands before him with a flogger, each swing leaving thin red marks across a chest that looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine.
Warmth keeps creeping through me and I try to push it down, focusing on Kira as I follow her deeper inside. We turn into another hallway, quieter now, the music dulling behind us as two men in suits stand outside a black door with holstered guns resting openly at their hips. The sight of guns would probably scare normal girls, but I’ve been around them long enough not to be afraid.
One of them steps aside and pulls the door open, and every instinct inside me flares to life, urging me to turn around and run. I’d rather face a firing squad than what I’m about to go through.
The room beyond feels like a different world. Deep gray sofas are arranged in clusters around a lengthy bar that stretches along one wall. Women fill the space. Some wear gowns, others silk robes or delicate lingerie, every face hidden behind a mask.
Kira guides me into a smaller adjoining room clearly meant for dressing. One wall is lined with mirrors framed in glowing bulbs, and opposite them, racks are crowded with dresses, robes, and lace.
A few girls sit at the vanities while women in corsets and red collars adjust straps and smooth hair.
Kira taps a chair in front of an empty mirror. “Sit. I’ll grab your dress.”
I lower myself into it, hands knotted in my lap while she starts flinging through the racks until she finds a green lace see-through slip-on gown.
“I-I can’t wear that.” Panic surges through me.
“It’s in the rules.” She gently gathers the dress. “Now, come. Stand up so I can help you dress.”
Shit. I probably should’ve read the fine print a bit better…
Forcing my legs to cooperate, I get to my feet as she pulls down the zipper, my dress sliding away along with my bra before she hangs them neatly on a hook. The new gown slips over me,the fabric settling against my skin and leaving far too much of me exposed.
What would Kirill think of this? I know he owns the place, and what people do with their body is their choice, but this was never a choice for me.
“All right.” Kira steps back. “You look perfect. Quick rundown. The contract says no forced acts, so whoever wins can’t do anything you don’t agree to. Anything you marked as a no on your application is automatically off the table. If they try anyway, you report it to the number we’ll give you once your winner is called.”
“Okay,” I manage, though my mind immediately spirals to what happens if they don’t listen.
“Good. Let’s get back out. You’ll wait with the other girls, and when it’s your turn, I’ll take you.”
A shudder slices through me.
You’re doing this for Milo.
I repeat it under my breath as the minutes drag while I listen for my name, for Kira’s footsteps coming back for me, for the moment I’m led onto that stage where everything in my life is about to change.
