It was about an hour's drive from the villa to the theatre. They drove on dark roads first along the coast, and then through the arid inland. They passed through a handful of small towns but there was little traffic on the road.
Farah sat next to her, tapping away on her tablet. Riley couldn't read Arabic, so she was only rarely able to follow what Farah was reading. Occasionally, she checked a map app to see where they were. Riley could see the progress of their car, but had no idea where they were going.
She played a few games on her own phone just to pass the time, but her mind wandered too much. She couldn't concentrate. She just kept imagining what was about to happen.
Finally, they arrived. There was a large compound surrounded by high white walls. The driver slowed to a crawl and the gates opened for them. They drove inside and onto a side path. They drove through a huge garden, then around the back of the palatial building. It was ornate and well lit.
At the back of the house, the driver parked near four other large black vehicles. The driver opened the door for Riley and she stepped out onto the crushed stone.
She walked carefully and slowly, feeling unsteady on her high heels. Farah quickly caught up to her and took her hand to steady her.
Two large burly men in dark suits stood on either side of metal service doors. They nodded at Farah and opened the doors for them. Inside was a service hallway, plain and used for deliveries. The driver followed them inside, but went down a different hallway.
Farah seemed to know her way. She navigated them through the service area and opened a door leading to what looked like a backstage area at a theatre.
There was a long table set up with mirrors and lights with a few chairs and couches nearby. Sixteenth women were waiting—pairs of richly dressed women with professionally dressed handlers like Farah.
There was a large heavy curtain between them and whatever audience awaited.
Farah handed Riley a small earpiece, "put this in your ear. I'll be able to talk you through the ceremony. Good. Now, check your makeup. We'll begin soon. We're waiting on one person."
Farah went over and chatted to the other handlers. But the women Riley was thinking of as the contestants all stood quietly. She touched up her makeup and stood silently among them.
A few minutes later, another pair of women arrived and this seemed to complete their party.
Riley looked at the other contestants. They must have all been selected based on their home countries or race. There was one other woman who was white and sounded like she was also from the US. Two woman appeared to be south Asian, two from the Middle East and two from east Asia—she guessed Indonesia or maybe Malaysia. It was like a mini Miss World competition.
All of them were stunningly beautiful and all dressed in classy but sexy dresses. Each woman's hair and makeup were perfect. The one thing they all really had in common is that they all looked very nervous.
A severe looking woman in a black skirt suit stepped through the curtain and used her hand to beckon them forward. She quickly put them in the order she wanted and sent them out through the curtain, walking out behind them. She seemed to be the hostess of this strange event.
Riley was number 3. She followed the two women in front of her—the Arabs—and stood on her number onstage. The other American followed her and stood on number 4 and so on.
The theatre wasn't what she'd expected. It was empty apart from the numbers on the floor. There was a green screen set up behind them and three large remote controlled cameras in front of them.
It was actually a theatre, but there was no one in the audience. Behind the cameras were large screens showing what was on each camera. Whoever had put this together had used the green screen to make it look like the women were standing in front of ancient pillars by the sea.
The hostess stood next to the first contestant and seemed to be speaking about her into a handheld microphone. On the screens, a bunch of Arabic text appeared as well as some numbers Riley guessed were her age, weight and measurements.
The hostess had each woman turn around and smile into the camera.
Contestant one looked very embarrassed by whatever the hostess was saying. She looked downward, blushing brightly. This was done with each of the contestants—but only the first two could understand the hostess.
When it was Riley's turn, she focused on the screen, but couldn't make out much of what they'd put up about her.
When the hostess finished talking about number 8, Riley heard Farah's voice in her earpiece, "follow the girls backstage. We have to get you ready for the next part."
Riley followed the group backstage and Farah helped her remove her dress. She knew this was coming, but still felt mortified and embarrassed by it. Standing there in white lace lingerie and high heels made her feel exposed and truly on display. She tried to think of the money...it would all be worth it in the end.
They processed back out on stage. Each woman wore something equally revealing. Riley had forgotten about the henna tattoo the therapists had done on her back. She could see that all 8 of them had similar designs—something in Arabic surrounded by graceful geometric patterns. Whatever the words were varied—she guessed maybe it was her name written there.
Again the hostess stood by each of them and spoke and hard them turn around, before again going backstage.
This time, Farah helped her fully undress.
"Almost done. I will be waiting for you with a nice robe and we will head out immediately after. You're doing very well."
Riley appreciated the pep talk but dreaded what was coming. She'd only been naked in front of a handful of people before today. Counting everyone she would have been seen by probably twice as many people today as had seen her before today. It was weird and embarrassing. She took a deep breath and tried to think about the money.
The girls again paraded back out onto the stage, all of the fully nude and all looking very embarrassed. They were all blushing and none of them smiled. They were all looking downward and several looked to be struggling to keep their arms at their sides.
The hostess again stood by each of them, then had them turn around. Riley thought it was a strange transformation seeing the group go from being beatifully dressed and looking reasonably comfortable to standing there naked and ashamed.
When it was her turn, Farah spoke in her ear, "when you turn around, pull your butt cheeks apart so they can see the diamonds."
Riley looked around. Contestant one hadn't done that and now the hostess was talking about girl two. Riley watched—she didn't do anything like that when she turned around...
Next it was her turn. The hostess gestured for her to turn around. Her heart raced...she was mortified...
"Now. Spread them."
As Riley turned, she pulled her cheeks open. The plug that she'd almost forgotten about suddenly felt huge inside her. Her stomach churned. She finished turning around and put her hands back at her side.
The hostess' voice sounded more animated during her turn. She finished whatever she was saying, then went on to the next contestant.
The screen showed a slow motion replay of Riley presenting herself. She couldn't believe she'd done that. What was this weird contest?
Riley was the only one to spread like that. She was confused trying to guess why Farah had made her do that. The hostess seemed...if not happy at least...enthusiastic about it?
As soon as the girls walked backstage, Farah wrapped her into a large soft robe like the one in the spa earlier.
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah." She was still pumped with adrenaline and felt suddenly tired.
Riley saw the other handlers were either helping their contestants into their clothes, or wrapping them in robes or blankets. Farah said a few words to a couple of the handlers, then led Riley back to their waiting car for the drive home.
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"What was that about? Why did you have me do...that?"
"It is a competition. You got a lot of points for that."
"Points? For what? How does this all work?"
"These are very bored, very rich men. They compete on everything...investments, buildings, cars, travel, families...and hobbies. They're trying to see who can get the most beautiful woman and her the most interesting."
"Interesting?"
"Yes. I can't say more. But, you will see as we go. Look."
Farah held up her tablet. There were pictures of the 8 contestants with numbers beside them.
"You are in 3rd place. Before you showed the diamonds, you were in 5th."
Riley wasn't sure how she felt. Did she want to do well in this contest? She didn't think so.
"Is there a prize for being first?"
"I cannot tell you more."
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Day 2
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The next day started more or less the same. Riley slept in and then had breakfast delivered in her suite. After she'd finished her morning routine, Farah met her and accompanied her to the doctor's room. Today's exam was brief—a few questions, recording her weight and another vitamin shot.
Farah met her afterwards and the sat outside on the veranda, enjoying a coffee. It was a hot day, but the overhead fan seemed to be enough to keep them comfortable.
"I have an offer to make to you. Would you like to be paid an additional $10,000?"
Riley was caught off guard. After last night, she was expecting them to ask her to do...something. But, she didn't think they'd offer more money.
"Um...what...what would I have to do?"
"You would need to give a man oral sex. It would be filmed. But, the video wouldn't be shared beyond this competition."
She turned crimson. She could feel her cheeks burning and her stomach was in knots.
"I...I've uh never done that before."
"That's ok. If you're willing to do it, I can have someone teach you what to do."
"Teach me?" Riley's mind spun...how would that even work?
Farah smiled. "I could get Addie to show you what to do...on a toy."
"Oh." She hadn't considered that. That part would be ok. But, could she really just do that? On video? What if they put it online?
"What guy? Who would I have to...you know..."
"I have a man you haven't met. He would come to the house. You'd do it. Then he'd leave. You'd never see him again."
"Would you be like filming me? On your phone or something?"