You've always been up to no good, often getting into fights, involving yourself with the wrong people and fooling around. The smell of cigarette smoke hangs heavy in the air of the underground club as you settle into a booth, the leather sticking slightly to your skin in the humid atmosphere.

You inherited enough money from your father's company to afford your reckless lifestyle, even the trouble you've gotten yourself into with that small-time mafia boss. The thumping bass of the music vibrates through the floor, drowning out the thoughts of the threats he made before you left.

Colorful lights flash across the stage, illuminating one performer after another, but none hold your interest until Markus steps into the spotlight. They call him "The Vanilla Flower" – a boy with delicate features and an almost painful shyness that contrasts sharply with the confident movements of the other strippers. His performance leaves you strangely captivated.

As the show ends and you move to leave, the main lights dim and a single spotlight focuses on the center of the stage. A man wearing an elaborate masquerade mask steps forward, holding a leather leash that trails to the floor where a naked boy sits with his head bowed. Your breath catches as you recognize Markus' slender frame.

"Welcome to tonight's auction," the masked man announces, his voice amplified by the sound system. "The specimen for tonight is our beloved 'Vanilla Flower'!"