Welcome to the Innocent World

The palace hotel stood before us, towering against the night sky like a monument to wealth and power. Its golden lights shimmered off the marble facade, exuding an air of exclusivity. As we walked in, the glass doors slid open without a sound, revealing a grand entrance hall bustling with activity.

John and I exchanged a glance, the grandeur of the place momentarily stealing our breath.

"Man, this is insane," John muttered, brushing a hand through his dark hair.

"Yeah, no kidding," I replied, my eyes darting to the waitresses who were gliding across the floor like dancers, trays of crystal glasses balanced perfectly in their hands.

The female waitresses were strikingly beautiful, dressed in sexy and bold uniforms that hugged their curves. Their smiles were warm but professional, and as one approached us, she handed each of us a glass of champagne.

"Welcome, gentlemen," she said in a melodic voice before gliding away effortlessly.

"Okay, I could get used to this," John said with a wide grin, taking a sip from his glass.

Inside the grand hall, chandeliers hung like glittering constellations above a sea of sharply dressed men and women. The walls were lined with intricate golden patterns, and a soft, classical tune played in the background, barely audible over the chatter of the crowd.

A man caught my attention as he stepped onto a small, elevated stage at the center of the room. His black hat, perched at an angle, and the rich, velvet coat he wore gave him an aura of authority and wealth. He tapped a microphone, and the hum of the crowd faded into silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," his deep voice boomed through the speakers, "I welcome you to the Island of Eloria."

The room erupted into polite applause, and he held up a hand to quiet everyone down again.

"You are here because you are the chosen ones," he continued, his eyes sweeping over the crowd. "Each one of you plays a crucial role in leading our country to its greatness. Tonight, you are not just guests—you are the architects of the future."

John nudged me with his elbow. "That sounds like something out of a movie."

"Shhh," I hissed, more intrigued than I cared to admit.

The man's speech took a lighter turn as he announced, "This event isn't just about discussions and plans. For the next seven days, you will be treated to unlimited breakfast, snacks, lunch, dinner, and refreshments. All included. Beaches will remain open 24/7 for your leisure. There are no rules to obey here—only freedom to indulge in all the pleasures this world has to offer."

At this, the crowd broke into murmurs of excitement, and the man smiled slyly.

"But wait, there's more," he added, leaning into the mic as if to share a secret. "We have rides, a circus, orgy party and... well, let's just say there are certain events I can't mention on this microphone."

He chuckled, the sound rich and almost mischievous. "Hehehe. I know you all understand what I mean."

The crowd burst into laughter, the men chuckling knowingly, and the women offering coy smiles. John and I exchanged glances, his excitement mirrored in my raised eyebrows.

"And remember," the man concluded, raising his glass high, "this is your time to enjoy to your heart's content. Let others enjoy as well."

The crowd erupted into cheers, raising their glasses in unison. "Yahoooo!"

John joined in enthusiastically, while I merely lifted my glass with a small smile.

Later that evening, we found ourselves in the cafeteria, a sprawling space with sleek, modern decor and a buffet that seemed to stretch on forever. The aroma of gourmet dishes wafted through the air, and the low hum of conversation filled the room.

John was talking nonstop about the speech and the events, his excitement bubbling over like a child's on Christmas morning.

"Can you believe it?" he said, gesturing wildly with a fork. "Seven days of no rules, unlimited food, and insane events. This is going to be epic!"

"Yeah, epic," I muttered, staring down at the pamphlet in my hands. It listed all the activities available for the week, from beach parties and yacht cruises to exclusive performances and mysterious 'private events.'

I let out a long sigh. "Whaaaa... that's a hell of a lot of stuff to do."

John grinned at me from across the table, a piece of cake halfway to his mouth. "Obviously! It's the party of billionaires and the rich class. What else did you expect? These are the people basically running the country."

"Lucky you that your mom is rich," I said, taking a bite of my own dessert.

"Perks of being born into wealth, my friend," he replied with a wink.

He leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass like he'd been doing it his whole life. "What about you, though? What do your parents do?"

His question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I froze. My heart skipped a beat as a wave of unease washed over me. The truth was, I had no idea what my parents did—or even if I had parents in this realm. The realization hit me like a freight train. Why was I, an ordinary college student with no fame or connections, invited to an event like this? How did they even know about me?

"Austin," John's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts.
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I blinked and looked up at him, fumbling for a response. "Uh... my father is here," I said quickly, hoping he wouldn't press for details. "He runs a textile business."

John's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Woahh, that's cool as well."

He took another sip of his wine, completely buying my lie. "My mom runs a corporation."

I forced a smile, nodding along as he launched into a story about one of his mother's recent business deals. But in the back of my mind, questions swirled like a storm.

Why was I here? Who had invited me, and what did they know about me that I didn't?

The atmosphere in the cafeteria was still lively, with the soft hum of conversations and clinking of glasses filling the air. I was midway through another bite of cake when I noticed a figure approaching our table.

She had striking red hair that cascaded down her shoulders like a fiery waterfall. Her dress was a barely-there, transparent, thin piece of fabric that clung to her body with the kind of fragility that could be undone with a single tug. Her cleavage was visible, catching the dim lights of the room, and her makeup was flawless—enhancing her already dazzling beauty.

"Hello, boys," she greeted, her voice dripping with confidence and a hint of seduction. She placed a hand on the back of an empty chair at our table, her sharp gaze flickering between John and me. "How's it going? Mind if I give you some company for tonight?"

John nudged me under the table, his grin practically splitting his face. I could feel his unspoken teasing loud and clear. I tilted my head slightly and responded with a smirk.

"Sure do," I replied smoothly.

She chuckled lightly, her lips curving into an inviting smile, and then, to my surprise, she grazed my shoulder with her fingertips as she walked around me. Her touch sent an electric sensation down my arm, and before I could react, she slid into the seat beside me with the grace of someone who knew she belonged in the center of attention.

"I'm Afa," she introduced herself, extending her hand towards me.

I shook it gently, noticing how soft her skin was. "Austin," I replied, then gestured towards John. "And that's John."

John leaned back in his chair, giving me the most teasing smile he could muster. He raised his eyebrows at me, gesturing with a subtle tilt of his head as if to say, Go for it.

I sighed, shaking my head with a faint smile. "He's so hopeless," I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for John to hear.

Afa gave a small laugh but seemed unfazed, signaling for a drink. When the waitress arrived, all eyes seemed to shift to her. She was cute, with her hair tied into a playful ponytail and wearing a mini skirt that complemented her slim figure.

John, always the opportunist, couldn't help himself. His hand casually brushed against her thigh as she placed the drink on the table. The waitress froze for a moment, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink.

"Sheesh, Mister..." she stammered, glancing at him. "You're so desperate."

John, ever the bold one, simply smirked. He leaned forward and traced his hands up in between of her warmth and gently rubbing her pussy in circles "You think so? Then why is it you who isn't wearing panties babe?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Before she could respond, he gently grabbed her hand, pulling her closer until she was practically sitting in between of his legs.

"Come on," John said with a wicked grin, "I think you'd be much better off here. Why bother serving anyone else tonight?"

The waitress hesitated, glancing around nervously before letting out a soft laugh. "Jeez... It can't be helped, then," she murmured, giving in to his audacious personality.

With a confident move, she placed her arms around his neck and held his head, pulling him into a kiss. John didn't hesitate, his hands roaming over her back and sliding down to her waist and slowly in between of her legs.

"Ahh.." The waitress let out soft moan as John spread her legs in front of us and started fingering her pussy in deliberate circles.

I watched the scene unfold, one eyebrow raised in mild amusement. Typical John.

"Well, that escalated quickly," I muttered, glancing at Afa.

She smirked without looking up, her lips quirking as she set her glass down. "Boys will be boys," she said simply, swirling the liquid in her glass.

Meanwhile, John and the waitress were still caught up in their little moment, entirely oblivious to the world around them as they kissed and rubbed their privates in front of us.

I leaned back in my chair, glancing between the two of them and Afa. This night was turning out to be more interesting than I'd expected.

John stood up, his hand still wrapped around the waitress as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. "I guess this is it for tonight," he said, his voice filled with that familiar mischief. "I think I'd like to get some rest now."

I couldn't help but chuckle, already knowing where he was headed. "Sure, goodnight," I said casually, watching as he turned and walked off with the waitress, his steps confident and purposeful.

"Let's enjoy ourselves in some private, okay?" he said to her, his tone smooth as velvet.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair as I watched them leave. Once they were out of sight, I turned my gaze toward Afa, who had been silently observing the scene.

She was staring at me, her eyes soft yet piercing, her red hair partially draped across her face like a curtain of fire. She looked almost angelic—like a perfect blend of extreme beauty and undeniable heat.

"Austin..." she muttered, her voice soft but deliberate, drawing me in with the quiet intensity behind her words.