Chapter 2

A quick search engine brought up a website to where I can schedule an appointment with Dr. Libertino. It was prohibited for us to interact with the other families, but I might be able to get away with it this way. Let me fill out this form.

Name Jane Smith, DOB 5/21/1999, Age 23, Sex Female. Appointment at 4:30pm. Cool. I finished filling out the form and entered my phone number for the video call. I still don't know what I'm going to say.

I dressed myself quickly in a white squared cropped tank and some light denim skinny jeans. My dark hair fell in waves to the middle of my back. I made my way downstairs to have dinner with my family.

I took my seat far away from both my parents sat and sipped on my water. The servants brought out each dish and placed it on the table. My father had steak and potatoes with grilled shrimp. My mother and I had grilled chicken breast with steamed broccoli. I ate my food but, in my head, I was eating what was on my father's plate.

Everyone was quiet for the most part until my mother chimed in," Did you catch your father fucking the maid?"

I feigned shock.

My father slammed his hands on the table, "Could you not fucking do this in front of her Elena?!"

She snapped her head towards him, "It's not like she doesn't know that you like to share our bed. Even with your age, you still haven't slowed down."

"Should I be expecting this too? From my husband?" I shifted my eyes to them.

"Maybe you should cut his dick off before he gets the chance to," my mother said lovingly while gripping her knife.

Elena too liked spreading her thighs for men other than my father. I guess after a while she grew tired of his many trysts with women. So, she took it upon herself to get back at him tit for tat. Of course, my father till this day has no clue. She's careful, I'll give her that. I heard her a couple times while my father was out on business. My mother is a howler, or maybe she just wanted everyone to hear her, to make a fool out of her husband. I hope my father never finds out. My father loves my mother in his own unique way, but he won't be humiliated. By her or by anyone.

"I'll be excusing myself," it was more of a question than a statement.

My father spoke, "You barely touched your food."

"I can't—I need to watch what I eat, for the auction."

My mother got up and walked over to me, she tucked my hair behind my ear and squeezed my chin. "Losing another 5 pounds wouldn't hurt."

"What is wrong with you?" I looked at my mother with disgust. "Why are you always such a bitch to me? It's like you purposefully want me gone.

My mother's eyes were wide with shock. My father opened his mouth but before any words came out my mother slapped me with all the strength her bony arm could muster. My hair covered my face and as I began straightening myself, she slapped me again and again and again, so fast. She balled her hand into a fist.

I didn't notice when my father got up, but he caught my mother's hand, slammed her on the table and proceeded to choke her. She kicked him and tried to pry his hands off her. I stared at her, looked her dead in her eyes. My dear mother, envious of her own daughter. Her body almost went still before my father removed his hands from her neck. She coughed and started sobbing.

One of my mother's personal servants made their way to her side.

"Do not fucking touch her, don't fucking help her!" My father growled. He went to me brushing my hair back, my checks red. He caressed my face looking me over multiple times.

I kept staring at my mother who was still coughing. "Fucking bitch."

My father tapped my cheek gently and spoke softly to me, "Enough Elaine."

He was still looking at my cheek, "I'm fine," I said. "It just stings a little." He nodded his head and let me go. I left before he turned to my mother.

"You dote on her too much Vane, you've spoiled her," my voice sounded sore.

"Shut up, please," he walked up to me and adjusted my dress, he smoothed my hair.

"You hurt me, Vane." I felt my throat tighten. He kissed my lips lightly.

"Don't put your hands on my daughter. Have you ever seen me raise my hand to her?! This is my fucking home, everything in here is mine. You have no say here."

"She is mine! Just as much as she is yours! Why am I second to her?"

"Finally, your true feelings. You are so selfish woman!" He stared at me in disbelief. "She is my blood, a part of me. Where are your instincts as a mother? These are literally the last few weeks we have with her. Is it so difficult for you to just pretend like you care about what's happening to her? One moment you seem to genuinely care about her and the next? You seem so indifferent. Which one is it, Elena?"

I shook my head; I suppose I was envious of my daughter and the attention she was getting. At the same time, I was truly concerned for her. But if I get too attached... if I don't push her away now, how much painful will it be when I'll have no other choice but to let her go?

I wonder myself if I failed her. Vane didn't wait for a response. "Don't do that again." The words were soft but firm.

He didn't make any movement, but I could tell he heard me. I squeezed his hand, and he squeezed mines back

***

In just a bit I would have to get on a doctor's call with Issandro Libertino. I'm feeling nervous. I was about to break a serious rule. The Del Rio Academy had their own doctors that examined us. Also, given the fact that the Libertino's could possibly be one of my sponsors I wasn't allowed to be seen by them.

I stepped over to my vanity and looked at my face. I grabbed a cotton round and started wiping off my makeup, exposing the redness on my cheeks. I could twist my mother's outburst into something useful. I could feign to DR. Libertino that I was having a small allergic reaction. The stain on my cheeks are red enough to pass as some sort of rash. Thankfully it was a video call and not an in person visit. Although, it would be easier to get information from the Doctor in person versus on video chat. I hope I'm not risking getting caught for nothing.

My phone chimes.

It looks like I got an email notification with the link to join my visit with Dr. Libertino. I've still got a few more minutes. I'm feeling nervous and my stomach feels tight. I walk over to my decanter and take a few gulps of water. I walk towards my bed and plop myself on the soft mattress. I close my eyes and wonder what kind of person Issandro is. This will be my first interaction with him after all.

A couple minutes later I get up and check my face in the mirror again. Good, my cheeks are still red. Other than the redness I look perfect. I snatch my phone off the bed and open the email with the link to my appointment. I click on the link and fill out my name. I used Jane Doe to sign up, but now I use my real name. I can see myself on the camera and I'm pleased with what I see. Five seconds later Dr. Libertino joins.

"Hello, Jane Doe. My name is Dr. Libertino. I know you—you're not a Jane Doe.

"No, I'm not, I'm Elaine Valentino. I used Jane Doe as a name because I was afraid you would refuse the appointment."

He stared at me blankly. Did he not find me the least bit attractive!?

"I should not be seeing you; you have your own doctors. I'm going to end the session--."

"Hold on, wait! I had to look for an outside provider. The Academy doctors didn't have any sooner appointments. You see my face? I'm having this allergic reaction, I think. My face is very important, I couldn't wait incase it got worse. Please."

"It does look a bit red. Did you eat or use anything you're allergic to?

"Not that I'm aware of no."

"I can't prescribe you anything because it could cause problems for you. I can tell you what you can use without a prescription and hopefully it helps treat it."

"Okay, that sounds good."

"Promise me you'll follow up with the doctors at the Academy."

"I will." He's gorgeous and kind. I'd be okay with him bidding on me. Wait, I almost forgot! I'm supposed to find out if he did!

"Did you sponsor anyone?" He stared at me again, blankly again! "I was wondering because you said you couldn't treat me—."

"We shouldn't be having this discussion. I'm ending the call. Good luck to you."

He ended the session. Is he completely unfazed by me!? Ridiculous. Maybe he didn't bid on me. Maybe I'm not his type. He's handsome… oh god he's fine as hell. Dark black hair, grey eyes that resemble a foggy morning, quiet and still. His cheeks are full, it makes him look like a child, it's endearing, and it goes well with his feature. I want to see him smile.

I can't believe he hung up on me!

***

Three weeks have passed. Today is the damned day where I lose all my freedom. What little I have of it.

I'm at the Del Rio Academy looking at myself. This is supposed to be me at my prime. I don't feel it; I don't see it.

In a few minutes I'll be seeing my parents for the last time. I'll get dressed and prepped for sale. Doesn't that just sound horrible? I've been thinking a lot and it wouldn't be the worst thing if Dr. Libertino bid on me and won. That's if he's one of my sponsors, which I never actually got to find out. I don't know who any of my sponsors are. I'm just praying to fall into a mid-level family.

The other women are here as well and just like me there are a handful that are nervous, and then there are the other handful that are excited. Why wouldn't they be? This is the moment their families have waited for after years of pouring millions of dollars into the Academy. Today is their big payoff day, Plus, it has not been easy for any of us. These twenty years have been awful. Essentially our entire lives we were told what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. We we're forced to relinquish our freedom. We had no normalcy, never got to experience a normal childhood or a rebellious teenage phase. We never fell in love; we've never been with anyone… it's been a dark twenty years.

Finally, it's over, right?

One of the administrators has let us know that it's time to say our goodbyes to our families. We line up and one by one each woman is escorted into a room with a few sofa chairs and a coffee table. It looks so dreary.

Finally, I'm escorted into a room where my parents are seated. Someone closes the door to give us privacy, but that doesn't matter; we're always being watched.

My parents rise and rush over to me and embrace me and I embrace them too. I hold on to them like we have all the time in the world. I hold on to them because I will probably never see them again. We say nothing to each other. I mean, what is there to say? We all know what each other is thinking. We all know there's nothing that can be said. There's nothing that can be undone, and I don't want to cry… I don't—I can't see my parent's cry. So, I hold them in our embrace, and I smell my mother's sweet perfume and I inhale my father who smells of cigars. My brain tells me I won't forget this moment. Yes, it's better that we stand here in silence. It's ok if we don't say anything. I don't want to fight.

Someone opens the door and motions for me to come. How long were we standing here in our embrace? I turn to leave as soon as the tears start to well up in my eyes. I'm at the door, I cannot turn around and look at them. I wanted to. I wanted to look at my father and mother one last time, but I couldn't let them see me like this. It would haunt them. "I love you both" I said then I left. I continued to break.

I have a couple minutes before the auction. I look myself over; I'm a wearing a see-through beige slip and a G-string. My hair is in loose waves and it cascades down providing my breasts with some coverage. On my feet I have on some nude heals with long leather straps I've tied around my legs. Everyone here is wearing the same thing.

I look around and stare at the faces of women I've gazed at for years. Soon we won't see each other again. Ever.

As soon as we see one of the directors letting us know it's time, we start lining up. There's no more whispering between the girls. Everyone is quiet. The girl behind me gently touches my shoulder. Her hand is cold; I don't look at her, but I tap her hand gently, reassuring her.

"Ready?" the director looks at us. He doesn't really want us to answer.

I'm not ready. I'm not ready.

"Go." He taps on one of the girls and motions her to the auction stage.

We can't hear anything. We can't see what's going on.

One by one, the director taps the next girl. "Go, go, go.' That's all he says. It almost feels like a runway show except the models don't come back. That's actually pretty funny.

Soon enough I'm at the front of the line. I'm staring at my toes, anything to avoid eye contact. The director taps my back ushering me forward. Here I go.