CHAPTER 4 – A TOUR OF THE CLUB #3
When we step onto the tiled floor, I stop short.
It’s gorgeous—an Olympic-sized pool sunk into a ring of pale stone, dotted with islands of daybeds and potted palms. The walls are covered in mosaics, old-world and suggestive: nymphs with bare breasts and dreamy eyes, wine-dark rivers and writhing bodies.
The water is almost too clear, reflecting light in restless, liquid ripples.
Sophia touches my elbow, guiding me down the steps. “You’ll love this.”
At first, it looks like a regular pool party: a cluster of handsome men in tight black trunks, lounging at the water’s edge, their bodies bronzed and hard.
But then I see the servers—women in high-cut thongs, topless, their breasts on open display.
They carry trays of drinks and tiny gourmet snacks, moving with a confidence that screams sensuality.
A pair of men sit at the lip of the hot tub, talking in low voices.
One runs his hand down the back of a blonde server as she kneels to fill his glass; he doesn’t let go, and she leans in, giggling softly as his fingers linger on her skin.
At the other end of the pool, a woman in a red bikini is sprawled on a daybed, her legs stretched out, her mouth open in a lazy laugh as she’s fed strawberries by a man in a silk robe.
I freeze when I see what’s happening on the far side.
A dark-haired woman is kneeling between a man’s thighs, her lips moving up and down his cock as another woman sits beside him, kissing his neck and chest. The man’s head is tipped back, eyes closed in bliss.
He groans, and the sound echoes through the air, pure and unashamed.
My mouth goes dry. I feel hot all over, embarrassed and fascinated at the same time.
Sophia sees me staring, and nods. “The pool is always fun. There’s sure to be some debauchery going on.”
I blink, try to breathe. “Is this allowed?”
Sophia’s laugh is soft. “Here, anything’s allowed. The club has rules, but they’re about privacy and consent, not propriety. No one’s going to force you to do anything. But you can’t be shocked if you see things you wouldn’t see anywhere else.”
A thrill runs up my spine, so sharp it’s almost pain.
I can’t stop looking at the trio by the pool: the way the man’s hands are in the dark-haired woman’s hair, the slow, rhythmic motion, the absolute lack of shame.
He glances over, sees me, and grins—a lazy, cocky smile that’s more invitation than apology.
I look away, pulse pounding.
On a lounger nearby, a couple is half-hidden behind gauzy curtains. The woman is on her back, legs parted, cupping her big breasts as a man kneels between her thighs. She’s making small, high sounds—pleasure, not pain. The sight makes my skin prickle.
Sophia leads me to a pair of lounge chairs set at a discreet angle. “We can just watch, if you want,” she murmurs. “No one expects you to join in unless you’re ready.”
I sit, my legs trembling. “Is it always like this?”
Sophia shrugs, her body lithe and relaxed. “At the pool? I’d say pretty often because the mood can be sensual. Sometimes it’s just a pool party. Sometimes, well, things get wild. The men like to show off for each other, and the women are here for the fun.”
I try to sound blasé, but my voice is shaking. “Are you ever nervous?”
Sophia’s eyes are thoughtful. “Never. The club is safe. The men are rich and entitled, but they follow the rules. If you say no, they back off. If you want to say yes…well, you can have anything you want.”
I watch as the woman by the pool deep-throats the man, her hands gentle on his thighs, her motions steady and practiced. He’s gorgeous, pecs heavy slabs, and his six pack on display. When he comes, his jaw clenches, his whole body tensing with a pleasure so visible it’s obscene.
“Unnnh,” he groans. “Fuck.”
After a few minutes of pulsing, the woman sits back, wiping her mouth, looking as satisfied as a cat. There’s a trail of cum leaking from her chin, and it drips down to coat her big breasts.
My breath is shallow. I squeeze my thighs together and try to focus on the ceiling, on the murals of grapes and cherubs, but my mind keeps circling back to what I’ve just seen.
Sophia leans in. “Are you frightened?”
I don’t answer right away, because I’m not sure. My hands are cold, but my chest is hot and tight. “Not frightened,” I say finally. “Just surprised.”
She smiles, satisfied. “Good. Because I think you’d be amazing here, if you wanted.”
I almost laugh. “What, as a server?”
Sophia grins. “As anything you want. The club has dozens of jobs—some women are servers, some are hostesses, some are private trainers or masseuses. Some are just companions. You could work in the library if you wanted, although that’s not exactly shenanigan free, either.
But for a girl like you, I think you can make even more than a librarian, pool attendant, or companion. ”
“Doing what?” I ask, my voice a bit shaky.
She tilts her head. “Auctions.”
I stare at her. “But for what? Dates?”
Sophia shakes her head, curls bouncing. “Yes, kind of. For dates, but you know the men here at Sanctum want more. They like their girls wet and willing, so sex absolutely happens. And they’ll pay a wild premium if the girl is a virgin.”
I go cold, then hot, all in the same second.
“Is that real?” I whisper.
Sophia looks at the water, then back at me. “Absolutely real. The virgin auctions are super-exclusive. Only the most trusted members get to bid, and the girls are vetted, of course. But if you’re a true virgin, you can make enough to pay off a house, or start a business, or disappear forever.”
I have to laugh. “How would they even know if you’re really a virgin?”
Sophia shrugs, her eyes never leaving mine. “The club has a doctor. She’s discreet, gentle. She checks, she signs off, and if it’s true, you go on the block. If not, you can still play the game, but there’d be no premium, that’s all.”
I shift in my seat, looking down at my hands. A hot rush runs through my form, my thighs squeezing together. I can feel Sophia’s gaze on me, her gaze knowing.
She leans closer. “Would you ever do it?”
My first instinct is to say no, but the word sticks in my throat. “I don’t know. I mean—I don’t even remember if I am a virgin.”
Sophia’s smile is kind, for once. “Honestly, I think you are. You’re innocent, Daisy. I knew the minute I saw you, and that’s valuable.”
I blush so hard I feel dizzy. “Why does that matter?”
“Because here, innocence is rare. It’s the only thing a girl can gift only once, and many men are interested.” She takes my hand, her fingers cool. “You don’t have to decide now, Daisy. But if you ever want to try the virgin auction, let me know. Veronique will be excited.”
We sit in silence, watching the glittering water and the beautiful people doing filthy things to each other. A girl is moaning now as she’s shafted by a handsome man, the slap of skin audible even from a distance.
I surprise myself with my arousal.
Yes, I want this.
I want to belong.
Sophia senses the change in me, and smiles naughtily. “Oh good, the wheels are turning. Come on. Let’s get some air.”
We climb the steps back to the ground floor, and she leads me to a terrace overlooking the city. The sky is clear, the last rays of afternoon sun spreading over the rooftops in orange and gold. We stand at the rail, side by side, and for a second I feel almost normal again.
I glance at Sophia, trying to understand her. “So have you done it before?”
She doesn’t pretend to not know. “The virgin auction? Yes. When I was nineteen. I bought my parents a house with the money. It was over in ten minutes, and I’ve never regretted it.”
I nod, the gears in my brain spinning. “Is it weird that I’m curious?”
Sophia shakes her head. “No. It’s only weird if you lie to yourself about what you want.”
I look back at the city, my thoughts a tangled, messy snarl. There are so many things I should ask, but the main one is stupid.
“Do you think Hunter would want to buy me?”
Sophia smiles, her lips glossy and pink. “Hunter could buy the entire club if he wanted. But yes, I think so.”
My cheeks go hot. “Why do you say that?”
Sophia shrugs, then bumps my shoulder. “He’s obsessed with you, Daisy. Everyone can see it. And men like Hunter—they want the one thing no one else can have.”
I laugh, but the tinkle trails away quickly.
I’m not supposed to want this. I’m not supposed to want anything. I’m supposed to be Daisy: lost, broken, in need of rescue.
But now, all I want is to be seen by this man. Bid on. Bought and owned.
I want to be his.
Sophia puts an arm around my shoulder, drawing me in. “Let’s get you checked by the doctor,” she says. “Just in case.”
I should protest, should run, but instead I let her lead me back inside, down a hallway lined with mirrors.
My reflection follows, blue eyes wide and bright, golden hair shining under the lights.
I look like someone else, someone naughty and dangerous.
And I like it.