“And I have the perfect solution for you and your money troubles. What are you doing Friday night?”
Considering I couldn’t remember the last time I did anything other than work, I resisted the urge to laugh at her question. “Nothing. Why?”
“There’s a virginity auction happening at the club.”
Her words took a moment to sink in. “They auction someone’s virginity?” My words were hushed, even though I was home alone. It felt weird, forbidden, to even speak them.
Kyra laughed. “You’d be surprised what men will pay for.”
“You have got to be kidding.”
“I’m as serious as your bills are.”
I mulled it over for a moment. I was desperate. And what did my virginity matter if I couldn’t keep a roof over my head, if I couldn’t get my sister clean?
I blew out a breath and closed my eyes. I needed this. What choice was there? A minimum wage job waitressing or working in a bar? I’d still not make enough money to keep on top of my piling debt. It would be a one off anyway. It’s not like I could become a virgin again after it was taken.
Could I do this? Really do it?
“Okay, tell me more,” I said, before I changed my mind.
“It’s simple. You’ll be auctioned and whoever buys you will get to take your virginity.”
She made it sound so easy. I wasn’t sure it was. My parents had always drilled into me the importance of waiting until I was married before I had sex. Letting a stranger pay to have my first time was a strange concept. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
I glanced down at the invoice again.
What choice did I have? Maybe it was time to stop being the goodie two shoes everyone expected me to be. Where had that gotten me anyway? I’m deep in debt, drowning in it, actually. I was desperate. If I didn’t do something soon I was going to lose everything, including my sister. I needed to find a way forward.
I channeled my inner Krissy.
What would she do?
She’d do the damn auction and she’d do it with her head raised.
I was tired of always doing the right thing. I needed to do the necessary thing.
I needed money and Kyra had a solution that would help. It was only my virginity. What did it matter who had it? What good was it to keep ahold of it when I couldn’t afford to live my life?
“What is it like?” I asked.
“What?”
“Being a sex worker?”
“Liberating.”
That one word made me feel at ease. My freedom was something I’d consistently strived to achieve after my overbearing parents. My sister might have seemed like a drain on me, but I owed her too. The small amount of freedom I’d had growing up was her doing. She’d pushed back against the rules and that enabled me to live a little more.
“I’m in charge of what I do there,” my friend went on. “I don’t push any boundaries I don’t want to and the things I’ve tried are things I’d never do with a vanilla partner. Everything is safe. It’s a reputable club, Jessica. I would never suggest this if I didn’t trust the owners. They have an in depth vetting process for members. Each person has to be fully checked out. Any behavior that is deemed to go against the rules sees that person kicked out of the club. You’ll be perfectly safe. You couldn’t ask for a better environment to do this in.”
That helped with some of the anxiety I was feeling. If Kyra thought it was safe and liked it there I trusted it was.
“How long have you been doing this?”
“A while now. Long enough to trust it’s a good place to work.”
“How much would I get?” Selling off my virginity had to be worth my while.