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Chapter 1: Aurora
Theauctionhouseis loud when I open the doors and step into the dark, musty room. The lights are dim and there are so many people. I see both women and men wearing very little clothing and others in full on suits. I wring my hands together as I walk through the crowd, trying to find Ms. Bowen. She’s the woman I first contacted when I signed up for this.
When I decided to auction off my virginity.
I am down to my last dollar and I have no home, no family, and nowhere to go. I heard through the grapevine that someone could make thousands to millions of dollars at these auctions. So I did my research and found the best one. The safest one. At this auction, though you’re giving part of yourself away there’s still some room for you to make decisions.
I contacted Ms. Bowen three weeks ago. I was instructed to come to the auction house where she’ll set me up. She has the best clothing to make me ‘desirable’ to the auctioneers. So, I got a clean bill of health from my doctor, took a shower and followed her instructions.
Entering the building, I see a woman in a gray suit and I approach her. She looks important. If this isn’t Ms. Bowen, she looks like she’ll at least know where I should go.
“Excuse me,” I say. She turns to me, looks me up and down, and nods.
“Are you Ms. Bowen? I'm looking for her. My name is Aurora.”
“Oh, you lookin’ for Bowen. Well, she’s with someone right now. Give me a minute. I’ll go get her. You stay here.” I nod and the woman leaves. Turning around, I take a look around the room at the people milling about.
These people are probably not the buyers. Looking at the way they’re dressed, they look like they work here. I bet someone here is the auctioneer. Maybe some other people are lawyers or doctors. I’ve never done this before. But from what I’ve learned so far, with this auction in particular, is they take everything seriously. As seriously as they can to ensure the sale is legitimate and carried through. After all, it’s not like someone from the auction will be coming along after I’m purchased.
My understanding is, once I am in their home, my virginity is theirs. The person who buys will determine how much I enjoy this experience. I’m not doing this to enjoy anything. I’m doing it for the money. As a young girl, my mother told me that my virginity is mine to give away to whomever I wish. At this point, since I have no person in my life and nothing else of value to sell, I chose to give it to the highest bidder.
Most people say their first time is horrible. At least I’ll get money in return for my discomfort. Maybe after the time is up I can get back to a reasonable life. A life where I’m not walking up and down grocery aisles picking up free samples for dinner. Or pickpocketing people.
That’s how I was surviving until I almost got caught. I stole from a guy in a nice suit who had five hundred dollars in his wallet. I slipped his wallet then I saw him coming around the corner. So, I took the money, dropped the wallet, and ran. I thought I’d have my face on a wanted poster by the evening news but nothing’s happened since and that was three weeks ago.
A gray-suited man approaches me with a taller woman in a blue suit next to him. She has the reddest hair I’ve ever seen, bright red lips, and stands super tall with four-inch heels. If only she would buy me. I wouldn't mind spending some time with her.
“You must be Aurora Williams,” she says, her voice throaty like she’d spent twenty years smoking unfiltered cigarettes.
“Um, yes.” She knows my last name. I pause to remind myself that none of the buyers will. She’d offered a pseudonym but I didn’t think I needed one.
“All right. Well, come with me and we’ll dress you and get you ready for the auction. It’s in two hours.”
My palms are sweaty and I’m starting to panic. But, I follow her into what looks like a dressing room. No one else is there. On a table in the middle of the room are a bunch of bras and panties. I pick up a pair of black lace crotchless panties, then put it back on the table.
“Pick any one you want. They’re all new and you get to take them home with you if you want.”
Ms. Bowen takes out a bunch of papers. “Do you have the bill from the doctor?” I take the hospital bill and test results out of my bag and hand them to her.
She writes whatever is on the paper onto another paper, then paperclips my test results and the paper together. She slides a form and a pen in my direction.
“Just sign your name, age, and put your initials here, here, and here, and that will be all,” she says, pointing to three different areas requiring my initials. “You’ll be given half of what the buyer pays. The other half goes to us. You’ll be paid half now and half later. If you don’t complete your contract, you won’t get the other half of your payment. All buyers are instructed to be consensual. If a buyer violates the consent clause, you can contact the auction and we’ll make sure they get charged.”
Well, that makes me feel better. Aren’t these people vetted or something?
As if reading my mind she says, “All buyers are vetted, but we’re not clairvoyant, so we can’t guarantee anything. But we can guarantee they won’t get away with anything.”
I pick up a white lace bra and panty set, then go into the stall and put them on. Taking off my clothes makes me notice how real all of this is getting. I’m actually going to do this. I put my clothes in my bag and look at myself in the mirror when I step out. I look kind of hot. The panties are high-waisted, but they also have high leg holes, so most of my thigh is showing. The bra hikes up my small breasts, pushing them out, making it look like I have boobs. The back of the bra is a thin white band. There are embroidered flowers all over the cups and the waist of the panties. It looks very…innocent. Which is exactly what I am.
“You look nice. You’re going to make us a ton of cash,” Ms. Bowen says, typing something in her phone.
I gulp then the woman in the gray suit comes in and looks me up and down again. She looks as pleased as Ms. Bowen.
“Give me your bag and I’ll hold onto it until the end of the auction. You’ll get it back when you leave.”
“Okay.” I hand her my bag and I’m amazed at how easy I’m trusting these people.
Ms. Bowen writes a few more things, then she takes me to the waiting area. She informs me I’ll be staying here until it’s my time to go. It’s a beige room where several other men and women are waiting. The women are in bras and panties like mine and the men wear nothing but briefs. I sit on a chair and wring my hands out again, trying to calm down.
