Chapter 1: The Unveiling at the Poolside
The marble burned through the soles of Anaya's sandals as she crossed the deck, heat radiating up in shimmering waves that made the infinity pool look like liquid glass. The air smelled of chlorine and coconut oil and something floral, jasmine maybe, climbing the trellises that bordered the estate. Music thumped from speakers hidden somewhere in the landscaping, bass vibrating through the stone under her feet. A dozen people she half knew lounged on white loungers, drinks sweating in their hands, laughter sharp and easy. She tugged at the hem of her bikini bottoms, self-conscious.
"Anaya! There you are."
Margot appeared from behind a tall potted palm, a vision in a sheer cream robe that parted over a black thong bikini so high-cut it was practically a suggestion. Her platinum bob caught the sun like a blade. She kissed Anaya on both cheeks, her diamond bracelet chinking against Anaya's collarbone.
"I'm so glad you came. You look adorable." Margot's pale blue eyes swept down Anaya's body, lingering on the white and orange striped top, the strings tied in neat bows at her neck and back. "But, oh, sweetheart. This is a topless party."
Anaya's laugh came out too bright, too quick. "What? You didn't say anything about that."
"Didn't I?" Margot tilted her head, the picture of innocence. "I could have sworn I sent the note. The dress code was in the invite. Let me see your phone."
She plucked Anaya's phone from her hand before Anaya could protest, swiping through the messages. "Hmm. I must have forgotten to hit send. But everyone's already got the memo, you see." She gestured with a tilt of her chin toward the pool. Anaya followed the gesture. A woman near the shallow end was unbuckling her halter top, letting it drop to the deck, her breasts swinging free as she dove into the water. Another woman, dark-skinned and laughing, pulled her top over her head and tossed it at a man who caught it and held it to his face like a trophy. Anaya's stomach dropped.
"I can't," she said, the words thin. "Margot, I really can't."
"You absolutely can." Margot's voice was honey and steel. She stepped closer, close enough that Anaya caught her perfume, something expensive and floral, over the chlorine. "Everyone does it here. It's the rule of the house. You don't want to be the odd one out, do you? The girl who couldn't handle it?"
The people around them were starting to notice. A man with a neat beard raised his drink in Anaya's direction, grinning. A blonde woman in a tiny triangle bikini said something to her companion, and they both laughed, eyes sliding toward Anaya. The heat of the sun pressed down on her shoulders. Her skin felt too tight.
"Come on." Margot's manicured fingers found the knot at the nape of Anaya's neck. "Let me help you."
Anaya's breath caught. Margot's touch was light but insistent, working at the bow. The fabric loosened. Anaya's arms came up instinctively to hold the top in place, but Margot just smiled and reached for the second knot at her back.
"Shh. It's fine. You're among friends."
The knot gave way. The triangular swatch of striped fabric sagged forward, and Anaya grabbed it, pressing it to her chest, but the damage was done. The back was already exposed, the cool air hitting her bare spine. Her nipples had gone hard, whether from nerves or the sudden breeze, she couldn't tell.
"See? Easy." Margot tugged gently at the fabric in Anaya's grip. "Let it go."
Anaya's fingers trembled. Around her, the party seemed to have slowed, all eyes sliding her way, the weight of expectation pressing down. She thought about her phone in her bag, her car keys, the long drive back to her empty apartment. And then she thought about walking away, about the story that would spread, about Margot's pale, watchful smile turning cold.
Her arms lowered.
The top slid down her chest, the fabric whispering over her ribs, her breasts exposed to the sun and the air and the dozens of eyes that had been waiting. She felt the heat of their gaze like a physical thing. Her nipples tightened further, and a flush crawled up her neck. Margot took the damp, tangled top from her shaking fingers and folded it neatly.
"Good girl." The satisfaction in Margot's voice made Anaya's skin prickle. "Now, don't you feel better? Free?"
Anaya wrapped her arms across her chest, acutely aware of how small that gesture made her look. A couple of the men nearby wolf-whistled, and she wanted to sink through the marble. But no one was laughing at her. If anything, they seemed pleased, welcoming, like she'd passed some unspoken test.
She got through the next hour on autopilot. A drink appeared in her hand. Someone pressed a sunscreen bottle into her palm. She smeared it over her shoulders, her chest, trying not to think about the way the lotion felt on her bare skin. Slowly, her arms stopped hugging herself. She talked to a girl named Priya about her psychology major. She laughed at something someone said. The sun was warm, the music was good, and every woman around her was topless too, and somehow that made it easier.
The sunset painted the sky in ribbons of orange and pink when Margot clinked her glass for silence. The music dropped to a murmur. Everyone turned.
"I have a little game for us," Margot announced, barefoot on the edge of the pool, the sheer robe catching the breeze. "Something to make the evening truly memorable."
She produced a huge glass punch bowl, crystalline and gleaming, both hands around its rim. On a marble table beside her sat a decanter of something red and fruity. She poured it in, the liquid swirled, deep burgundy, glittering with berries.
"Ladies," Margot said, her voice carrying across the now-silent deck. "I want every single one of you to take off your bikini bottoms. Right now. And drop them in the bowl."
A ripple of laughter, a few gasps, but no one moved to object. Priya was already shimmying out of her neon green bottoms, stepping out of them, holding them up with a grin. A tall redhead followed. Anaya's heart hammered. She looked at the bowl, at the dozen or so women peeling off their last layer of fabric, their bare cunts exposed to the cooling evening air, their thighs glistening.
"Anaya." Margot's voice cut through the murmur. Her pale eyes were fixed on her. "You're not shy, are you? Not after this afternoon."
Anaya's fingers hooked into the waistband of her striped bottoms. The fabric was damp from the pool. She could feel the eyes on her again, the men's especially, hungry and expectant. The flush was back, hotter this time.
"Go on," Priya whispered, nudging her. "It's just a game."
Anaya pushed the fabric down her hips. Her thighs quivered. She stepped out of the puddle of striped cotton, and the evening air found her bare cunt, the lips sensitive and swollen. She was completely naked now, just her gold sun pendant against her collarbone, her breasts bare, her mound exposed. She crumpled the fabric and dropped it into the bowl. It floated on the surface of the punch, orange stripes breaking the deep red.
Margot smiled, a predator's smile. She stirred the punch with a long-handled silver spoon, churning the fabric scraps, turning them over in the drink.
"And now," Margot said, setting down the spoon, "the men get to choose."
A murmur of excitement. The men stepped forward. Emre, with his slicked-back hair and wolfish grin, was first. He reached into the bowl, plucked out a scrap, held it dripping red between two fingers. A black lace thong. The tall redhead's face went pale, then pink, and she smiled, a little shakily.
"Come on then," she said, and Emre followed her toward the cabana.
One by one, the men picked. Priya's green bottoms went to a man with a thick mustache. A lace-trimmed white pair went to a broad-shouldered guy in board shorts. Each woman stepped forward when her name was called, and each man took her hand, leading her away into the shadows of the estate.
The bowl grew emptier. The punch was thick with displaced fabric, sloshing over the rim. Anaya's stomach was in knots. She watched as her striped bottoms were carried to the bottom of the bowl by the stirring, then surfaced again, then sank once more.
Then there were two pairs left. Hers, and a plain beige cotton pair she didn't recognize.
The last man to step forward was a lean, olive-skinned guy with dark curls and a silver ring glinting in his ear. Rafael. He'd been quiet all night, lounging on a lounger, watching her. Her skin prickled. His hand hovered over the bowl for a long, agonizing moment. Then his fingers closed around the striped fabric.
Her bottoms.
He lifted them from the punch, red liquid dripping from the cotton, and held them up. His dark eyes found hers across the deck, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his face.
The applause was immediate, whistles and cheers echoing off the marble. Margot pressed a glass of the now-contaminated punch into Anaya's hand.
"Drink up," Margot whispered, her lips brushing Anaya's ear. "And be nice to him."
Anaya's mouth was dry. Her bare body was trembling in the cooling night air. Rafael was walking toward her, her own soaked bottoms dangling from his fingers, and beyond him, the cabana door was already closing on Emre and the redhead.