The Blue Butterfly club was so well hidden in an obscure street in the city that we had to go into a dingy umbrella shop to inquire about the address I had been given. An Oriental woman smiled sweetly at me and said we were indeed already in the club. She pointed at a black door that led to the back, but told us only I could go on through to the club, though.
Ella immediately dragged me out of the shop onto the sidewalk. “I really don’t like this cloak and dagger stuff. Are they a club, or an umbrella shop? I mean, why is it hidden at the back of an umbrella shop? Heck, I’m beginning to think there is something very fishy about it all. I don’t even know if this is legal.”
“It has to be if billionaires and celebrities are taking part,” I countered reasonably.
“I don’t like secretive things,” she huffed.
“I’m here now, and I’m doing it, Ella,” I insisted stubbornly.
“If you don’t text or call me in three minutes that all is well, I’m calling the police,” she fumed, before turning her face towards the surveillance camera above us and yelling, “I’m calling the police on all of you if you hurt her. I’ll be waiting right here until she comes out.” She turned back to me. “And I’m not joking either!”
“Look, you can’t wait here for hours. Just go home. I will be okay, I promise. I’ll call you if anything seems out of place,” I reassured her, then I went back inside.
The Oriental woman pressed a buzzer and the black door opened.
To my surprise, the door opened to a luxurious space with a Renaissance-style painting on the ceiling that would have rivaled any fine house in England. The walls were painted in eggshell blue and decorated with intricate white moldings. The floor was made of glistening checkered marble.
A woman wearing a long black dress was waiting for me. She smiled at me and addressed me by name. She opened one of the small locker doors and asked me to leave my cellphone in it since no photography was allowed.
I quickly sent Ella a text to say all was well and put my phone into it.
She locked it and gave me the key.
I could see two lifts. She called one and we entered it. It travelled smoothly and noiselessly downwards. It opened three floors down.
Silently, she led me down a brightly lit corridor to a room that looked like a standard hotel room. “You are not allowed to wander around the club on your own, so please do not leave this room. Someone will come shortly to prepare you for the auction,” she instructed before she left.
I thought she was going to lock me in the room, but she didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief. Before I could even properly investigate my surroundings, there was a gentle tap on the door.
An old woman entered. Her face was deeply lined and it surprised me to think of such an old woman working in a place like this. She made a movement with her hands to indicate I should undress.
“Okay,” I said awkwardly and started to take my clothes off. I stopped at my bra and panties.
“All. All,” she said impatiently.
When I was naked, she led me through a door into a tiled room with a huge Japanese style wooden tub. She sat me on a wooden bench and proceeded to strip every last hair on my body by rubbing a sticky brown mixture over every inch of my skin. She even worked her mixture around my butt hole, which was embarrassing to say the least.
I nearly died of shock when she started pouring icy water that she’d scooped from the wooden tub over my head.
“Cold water good for you,” she said.
I froze and shivered as I thought of how happy my mother would be when I solved all our problems with the money I made from this club.
To my surprise, I got used to the cold very quickly, and by the time she massaged hot fragrant oil into my body, I was feeling very relaxed and expansive. Draped in a white toweling robe I was taken back to the room where a makeup artist was waiting with her bag of tricks. I sat before the mirror framed with light-bulbs and she worked her magic.
Freya
I stared at myself in the mirror in shock.
I looked beautiful.
Almost to the point where I didn’t recognize myself. The makeup artist had styled my thick brown hair in soft waves cascading down to my shoulders, and painted my lips a dark berry red. But more than that, it was what she had done to my eyes that was really amazing. They looked enormous and the dark brown eyeliner she had used made the gold specks in my hazel eyes glow.
I basically wore nothing except the sheer negligee and a black thong I’d been given to wear. I regretted having cut my waist-length hair before I started my waitressing job. It was too short to cover my nipples.
“Are you ready to join the other girls backstage?” the makeup artist asked.
Stage? Jesus! I took a deep breath, and assured myself once again, that all would be well. I could do this. It would be nothing compared to what awaited Mom if I didn’t. I was taken to a large room where there were six other girls and, like me they had all been beautifully made up, were wearing the same type of negligee, and were barefoot.
“Gather round girls,” a voice said briskly from behind me, the accent was full-blown aristocratic and I looked around in surprise and saw a silver haired woman. Her sophistication in a velvet skirt suit and a French chignon surpassed even that of my mother at the height of my father’s wealth. She, more than anything else that had happened to me, surprised me. I had expected the whole transaction to be suspect and sordid, but thus far, everything and everyone seemed to be dripping in luxury.
She proceeded to address us, “I believe you’ve all already signed your NDA’s, so may I take this opportunity to remind you how serious it is. If you ever reveal or try to sell any information to the media about this club, the things you witness here, or the identities of the people you meet here, the club will bring the full force of the law upon you. Do you understand that?”
Every girl standing in that room, including me, knew she meant every word. We all solemnly nodded.
She nodded. “Good. The reserve price you each set for yourself has also been approved and machinated. If you are having second thoughts and want to make any changes then you can do so within the next ten minutes, otherwise it will be the minimum amount that must be reached before a sale can be achieved.”
As she said this, my heart began to pound just a bit harder with worry at the reserve price I had set. I looked around me and wondered what the other girls had set. There were two white girls, one black, one who looked like she might be of Indian descent, but I couldn’t be sure, one Oriental, and one who looked like she might be mixed race. But they had all been made up to look beautiful.
Was my price perhaps too high?
The woman ran her gaze across the lot of us, all seven girls in total. “I hope all of you are fully aware of what you have signed up for. Tonight, is a one-night affair. After tonight, you will never have to meet your patron again. But tonight …” Her voice slowed, full of intent and coldness. “Understand that you are selling your bodies. This night alone, you are not the owners of them.”
The room went completely silent as she continued to look us all in the eye, the pause, the perfect effect for her warning to sink in.
A small voice spoke up, “How far can they go?” It was the mixed-race girl.
“They can go as far as they want,” she responded. “With the exception of violence of any sort, unless of course it is mutually agreed. Condoms will be provided to protect you all, and I want to strongly advise that you make good use of them. After tonight, none of the patrons have any obligation whatsoever towards you and neither will we.”
“What about anal sex? Do we have to submit to that?” another girl asked.
“I’m afraid so. If you are unhappy with the idea, now is the time to leave.”
The girl hung her head.
The woman watched us all intently again, as if to drive her point home that tonight we would be nothing more than the playthings of the rich and the famous. “Any more questions?” she
asked.
No one had any.
“Good luck,” she said, and allowed herself a small, tight smile before she took her leave.
I could feel and hear all the other girls exhale and relax. Music had been lightly playing in the background, but I was so focused on the woman I hadn’t even heard it.
One of the girls smiled shyly at me. The girl who had asked about anal sex had gone beyond to the curtain that led to the stage. She came back.
“What can you see?” the black girl asked.
“Nothing. The whole place is full of mirrors. All the men must be hidden in cubicles behind one-way mirrors.”
The Indian girl’s eyes caught mine watching her so she came over to stand next to me.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “It was rude to stare. I’m just nervous.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m Indian. I get stared at by all my relatives all the time for being unmarried at my age,” she replied.
“Why? How old are you? You look the youngest amongst all of us.”
“I’m pretty certain I’m not,” she replied. “I’m twenty-four, about to be twenty-five soon. My spring chicken years are coming to an end, well after tonight, they’ll definitely be gone forever.”
Her spring chicken analogy made me break out into a grin.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“I’ll be twenty-two in two months.”
“See,” she said with a shake of her dark curls. “I bet my auction money I’m the oldest here.”
I liked her. She reminded me of Ella. “Well, you certainly don’t look it.”
“How did you find out about this place?” she asked curiously.
“Through a friend.” I returned the question back to her, “You?”
“I was at a party with some friends and someone they knew joined us. He got really drunk and told us he once worked as a bartender here and about the auction. I was sick and tired of living at home and listening to my parents telling me I was becoming an old maid, so I decided to make some money and set off on a trip round the world … on my own.”
“Wow, talk about taking your future into your own hands.”
She grinned showing not even a bit of the nervousness I was feeling. “That’s me, Anub Singh at your service. What about you? Why are you here?”
“Nothing as glamorous as your reason. I need the mon—“ I started to respond, just as there was the sound of someone clapping. We looked to see another woman had come in. She was tall and elegant. There was something about her I instantly didn’t like. Unlike the others, she was not wearing a name tag, so I assumed she had higher authority.
“The auction is about to start. When your name is called, you will walk on to the middle of the stage where you will get completely naked.”
I froze on the spot, just as murmurings across the room broke out. All those hidden eyes were going to see me naked! I didn’t even know when I spoke, “We're going to be completely naked on stage?”
Her response was simple and slightly patronizing, “Of course. How else will our patrons know what they’re paying for?”
“I’m so screwed,” Anub whispered to me. “My boobs are tiny compared to everyone else.”
Mine were a full, decent size that especially stood out against my slim figure, but that was the least of my problems. I was going to stand naked before strangers that I couldn’t even see? I turned my face away and stared at nothing.
The woman’s voice was all I heard from then on.
“You will go out towards the stage when your name is called, take off your clothes and stand in the middle of the star painted on the floor. Do not speak, just stand with your legs shoulder-width apart. When you’re asked to turn around, do so. And just a tip, put a little heart into all your poses. In my experience, the more exciting and eager you appear, the more you will be able to command. Now, as I call your name, please go towards the hallway and wait your turn there. Anub?” she called.
“Oh oh ... here we go,” Anub said and went forward.
The woman looked her over, then nodded. “You’re first.”
Anub walked over to the hallway.
“Theresa?” the woman called.
“Here,” the pretty black girl said.
“You’re next after Anub.”
“Valerie.”
The Chinese girl stepped up.
My heart was pounding.
“You’ll go after her.”
“Eugene? You’re next.”
“Freya?”
I opened my mouth but it wouldn’t work.
“Freya? Freya?”
I raised my hand and the women in the room turned to look at me.
The matron, with a frown on her face asked, “Are you alright?”
I nodded.
“You’re next.”
Freya
The moment the microphone beyond was tapped to signify the start of the auction, the entire waiting room quieted down to an almost scary silence.
There was a brief welcome by the auctioneer and then Anub was called out ... We couldn't hear it all, but it was easy enough to follow her, as the voice asked her to bend forward, turn, show her profile, lie back and … oh god … open her legs. Then, we heard the auctioneer begin the bidding. Her reserve price was twenty-thousand. It went up in increments of five thousand, then slowed down to two thousand, down to a thousand and finally to five hundred. We did not hear the final price. Only the auctioneer saying sold to telephone Bidder Number 21.
Minutes later, Anub returned, her face glowing. It was clear she was happy with her price. Instantly, she found my eyes.
The other girls watched her curiously especially at the smile on her face.
“I got fifteen thousand more than I thought I would.”
My eyes popped open. She fetched £35,000. Up till that moment, a part of me had believed it all to be a scam. “They’re actually going to pay the money into your account?”
“First thing tomorrow morning. After …” Her smile faltered a bit. “… After tonight.”
“Was it nerve-wracking?” I asked.
“A bit,” she reiterated.
I leaned in. “Did you see any of their faces?”
“No, they’re all hidden behind mirrors. When they make a bid, the button underneath their mirror flashes.”
The next girl’s name was called.
“Good luck,” Anub said, and skipped off with one of the employees of the club.
I felt my stomach churn, like I had to rush to the toilet maybe. I placed my hand on my belly and took deep breaths. I didn’t need to go to the toilet. I hadn’t eaten since lunch. I told myself everything would be okay. I could hear the auctioneer talking up the price, but I had stopped listening. Only when one of the girls in front of me gasped and another squealed that my attention was brought back to the room.
“Oh, my God. She got £92,000!” the girl in front informed me.
My heart stopped. “What? What was her reserve price?”
“40,000,” she replied. “Both her and her friend made the same reserve amount.”
I turned to them, both girls of Oriental heritage. They were attractive, but in my opinion, not as much as Anub. Perhaps their buyer had a taste for Chinese beauties. Had I done myself a disservice by setting my reserve price so low that the men will think I was not worth much either?
At the worry in my gaze, the girl asked, “Why, how much did you set?”
“15,000,” I responded.
She frowned at me. “Why so low?”
“To be honest I kinda didn’t expect anyone to pay so much for so little. I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I can’t even believe that someone actually got £90,000.”
“Maybe you can quickly change your reserve price. Speak to one of the staff. After all, it’s not your turn for some time yet.”
“No need. The woman before said it would be impossible once the show started.” I sighed. “Even if I can command £15,000 it would be a great h
elp.”
She looked genuinely amused. “What do you mean if you can command that much? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”
The third girl returned to the room then, so we turned, expecting to see nothing but smiles, but instead, she was in tears and trembling violently.
The rest of the room quickly went over to console her.
I tried my best to listen in on her lament but she was speaking in Chinese.
“What happened?” the black girl asked.
Her friend looked up at us, mournfully. “No one wanted to meet her reserve price.”
A gasp of dismay went around the room. After the rush of thinking, we could make up to 90,000 ‒ all of us who had not yet gone on stage ‒ realized that we could actually leave with nothing.
“80,000 was kind of a stretch though …” the girl next to me said in a lowered voice.
“But her friend made it and got twelve thousand more,” I said.
“I guess, it’s all a matter of luck. Regardless, £80,000 is still a stretch. Plus, anyone who has that much money for a night must not be right in the head.”
“Freya?”
My throat dried up and my vision actually blurred.
“Freya?” The assistant called looking around. “Where the bloody hell are you? You’re next.”
With the potential of rejection ‒ and now, I had to show my naked body to a roomful of strangers, no doubt kinky, decrepit bastards ‒ I wanted to disappear into nothing, but I couldn’t move.
“Freya, you’re on. Can you hurry up please?”
I walked out of the hallway and onto the stage.
When I arrived, I found a white star in the center of the small black stage. The many mirrors glinted in the gloom. To give myself some time, I pretended to be in search of the exact middle of the star. Then I disrobed and pulled down my thong. The aristocratic woman’s warning came to mind, and I knew I should undress it in a seductive way to make sure I reached my reserve price, but I couldn’t get my body to work properly. It was as though my entire body had frozen solid and all my movements were awkward and heavy.
Highest Bidder Page 4