Page 8 of Worthy

There were several freestanding buildings on the grounds. One of them was my private residence; its stone facade matched the rose-gold color of the main house. It stood next to my favorite feature of the property, the private grotto, which was actually a high-end pool but looked like a natural pond. Another infinity pool graced the other side of the house, facing the mighty Atlantic. But this grotto seemed special to me—I imagined our patrons taking afternoon swims with their choice of girl while enjoying the beauty of nature.

There was a large stone wall facing the grotto. We’d retrofitted it with open-air rooms, spaces where couples could linger in semi-privacy. Here, in this secluded haven, the world outside seemed miles away, offering a sanctuary of peace amidst the beauty of nature.

I couldn’t wait for opening night. Our members would be astounded by the adult playground we’d assembled. With that in mind, I parked the Bentley in the circular driveway in front of my residence, then hustled into the main house for my appointment with Gina. As I strode across the lawn, the smell of saltwater air mixed with wild roses washed over me. I inhaled deeply; I’d come to love the smell of 444 Hawthorne, to crave it.

Gina waited for me in the grand foyer. She was tall, with flowing raven hair and thick-framed Gucci eyeglasses. She had an hourglass figure encased in a formfitting dress. “Mr. Blackwood,” she said a little breathlessly, “I cannot believe how incredible everything turned out. I’m… I’m almost speechless. I’ve never seen a more gorgeous property in my life.”

“Thank you. I’m impressed, myself—which is hard to do.” I eyed the enormous crystal chandelier, which gave the entrance an air of undeniable luxury. “Have you settled into your apartment?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said. “The guards were extremely professional and helpful. I’m all moved in.”

“Excellent,” I said. I had a staff of bodyguards who would be on site constantly. They were also responsible for moving Gina and the club workers into their suites. “Are you ready for our tour?”

“Of course.” The Madam eagerly followed me through the first floor, where I introduced her to our uniformed kitchen and housekeeping staff.

“I’ve given everyone strict instructions that they are not to mingle with the members. The staff needs to remain unobtrusive,” I explained. “The servers are to be seen and not heard—their job is to ensure that our patrons have everything they could possibly need or want with zero distractions. I don’t want our members feeling self-conscious.”

“Understood, Mr. Blackwood.” Gina followed me through the first-floor library and the living rooms, all of which had floor-to-ceiling windows, incredible views of the ocean, and fires roaring in the fireplaces. Every luxury had been thought of, and each room in the mansion was comfortable yet inherently elegant. The first floor was grand. It was beautiful.

And it wasn’t even the best part.

I brought Gina upstairs. She had already moved into her suite, but we reviewed the accommodations for the girls and also for the members. “Members have the left wing of the house; the girls have the right. The other employees have lodging in one of the private outbuildings. I want our patrons to have all the privacy that they need.”

Gina nodded. “Are there any rules about sleepovers?”

“No,” I said. “If a member wants a girl to sleep in his room, he’s welcome to invite her. And they can stay in the girls’ wing, for that matter. Anything goes—in accordance with the rules, of course.”

We toured the right wing, where the young women we’d hired would be moving into later that day. The suites were shared, two to a room, and the accommodations were very comfortable. All the furniture was new; each closet was filled with a brand-new wardrobe of designer clothing, shoes, and lingerie.

Next, we toured the left wing. The patron suites were luxurious, decorated with designer furniture and original art. Each room had an ensuite bath, a private bar with top-shelf liquor, and a massive, king-sized bed. I had a feeling our members were going to enjoy themselves very, very much.

“I’m excited,” Gina said. She shivered a little. “The women we hired are thrilled for this opportunity, and so am I. Thank you, Mr. Blackwood.”

“Thank you for finding suitable staff so quickly,” I answered. “Now, let me show you the club. Then we can review the rules before the girls arrive.”

We took the elevator to the lower level, bypassing the first floor. As we stepped into a dimly lit foyer, a glowing sign greeted us.

“I have the chills,” Gina said as she followed me through the doors.

The club opened up before us, and I took a deep breath. This was my domain—my kingdom. There was a stage in the center of the grand room, replete with poles. A long, glossy, dark bar bordered the right-hand side of the room. The lighting was dim but bright enough to showcase the seating, clusters of black-leather couches and chairs tastefully grouped together.

“There are private and semi-private rooms to the left,” I said. “Let me show you.” I opened the door to one of the private rooms. Inside was a luxurious bed, a chaise lounge, a sex swing, a spanking chair, and various other items.

“For each room, there’s an ensuite bath with a jacuzzi tub and full shower. There are secret compartments along the walls,” I said, indicating next to us, “that has everything a patron might need. Sex wedges, lube, vibrators, plugs, handcuffs… You name it, we’ve stocked it.”

Gina blew out a deep breath. “The members are going to love this. You said there are semi-private rooms, too?”

“Yes. For anyone who likes to have an audience.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“We should review the rules. Come to my office.”

The Madame and I took a seat in my private office, located at the back of the club, and I closed the door. “Security has their own office down here, with access to all the cameras. I have video surveillance as well.” I indicated a wall of screens that showed every space of the club, the two higher levels of the mansion, the grotto, the infinity pool, the private beach, and the grounds.

“I’ve already disclosed the extent of the video surveillance to our patrons in the contracts. Everyone is aware that eyes will be on them at all times, and that although what we do here is private, part of having the privilege of being a club member is our security. I don’t want anyone getting hurt here. There is a zero-tolerance policy for abuse of any kind. Everything that takes place between a patron and a girl has to be one hundred percent consented to. I need your support, as this is of the utmost importance.”

“Absolutely,” Gina said. She watched the screens for a moment, then focused her attention on me. “Each of our hires is also aware of the security and surveillance on the property. I think that most of them found it to be more of a relief than an invasion of privacy.”

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