“You’re very good,” I said, using the woman’s own tactics. “I bet Madame Moirai only hires the best.”
“High standards are expected of anyone associated with the Avalon.”
Avalon? What was that? “What is the Avalon?” I asked. The subtle pause in her ministrations gave away that she’d shared too much, which made me pay particular attention as I pressed a little harder. “Is it like a company or something? Like the organization that runs the auction? I never saw Avalon on any of the papers I signed.”
A tiny hint of agitation flowed through her fingertips as she chastised me into silence. “Quiet now. You must relax and let me pamper you, lovey. Next, you will be waxed. That process is less enjoyable.”
Waxed? I didn’t want to be waxed but I wasn’t given a choice in anything. The privilege of choice was taken from me the moment I signed the deal.
Even as her fingers worked magic, my mind wouldn’t settle. Too many questions crowded my brain. What the hell was the Avalon? I’d never heard of that name before. Only Madame Moirai had been on the paperwork, which obviously wasn’t a real name but I hadn’t pushed for too many details from Mr. Personality when I’d signed on the dotted line.
“You are finished,” she said in her soft voice but before she left, she whispered, “Be pleasant and agreeable. It’s the only way.”
The only way for what? I pushed up from the table, trying to catch a glimpse of my masseuse but she scurried from the room before I could get a good look. What did she mean? I clutched the fluffy white towel to my body. What if this was a huge mistake? I sense of foreboding crawled up my arms. A pungent odor of fear and dragon’s blood essential oil rising to my nostrils.
There was no escaping this place. I had to ride it out. One way or another.
Olivia came to collect me. I followed her into another room where another person awaited. A surgical mask covered most of their face but I could tell it was another woman. At least that was something. I didn’t want to be waxed by a man.
She gestured to the table. “Drop your towel. Get on the table.”
The woman’s clipped tone bordered on aggressive. I wasn’t about to pick a fight with the woman ripping hair from my body so I smothered my urge to tell her to fuck off and climbed on the table.
I started to share, “I’ve never had—“ but the woman didn’t hesitate or proceed with a gentle hand. I shrieked, tears jumping to my eyes but she simply swatted my hands away when I tried to make her stop. Holy Jesus! Why would anyone do this willingly?
“Spread your cheeks,” she intoned.
I stared in mortification. Excuse me? “Is that really necessary?” I asked.
“No one wants to play with a hairy anus,” the woman answered as if annoyed that I’d spoken at all.
“I don’t want anyone playing with my anus, hairy or not,” I retorted, my face heating. “I didn’t sign up for that.”
She stared at me with impatience. “Spread your cheeks, now or I will bring someone in to do it for you.”
I swallowed, realizing I wasn’t going to win. Slowly turning, I did as I was told, squeezing my eyes shut, mentally telling myself this would be over soon. As efficiently as before, she waxed the area with quick motions.
What level of hell had I signed up for?
Finished, I gratefully hopped from her table, eager to leave, only to discover another level of degradation.
The enema.
A different woman with the square body like a brick wall instructed me to lie on the table on my side. I stared at the contraption in her hand and shook my head. “Hell no. Just what do you think you’re going to do with that thing?” I demanded.
“It’s all part of your contract.”
“I don’t remember an enema being part of the fine print,” I told her, glaring. “I’m not doing that.”
She shrugged as if she didn’t care one way or another and I realized I wasn’t going to get out of it. “What’s it for?” I asked, stalling.
“So that you are completely clean for the client. You will be given a clear liquid diet afterward so as to keep yourself pure.”
I felt queasy. This was all for anal sex. I wasn’t scared of losing my virginity but I’d never considered that the man who purchased me, would want…I felt woozy. “What if I don’t want to have my butt used that way?” I asked even though I knew I would find no sympathy.
As expected, the woman just shrugged but the subtle smirk on her face told me she knew I didn’t have an option. I climbed onto the table and rolled to my side, grimacing as I felt her gloved hands parting my cheeks. Good God, could this be more humiliating? I could die right then and there.
I thought of Tana. How was she handling this kind of intrusion? If I was struggling, Tana was probably a sobbing mess. Just get through it. It’ll all be over soon. Think of the money. Think of leaving with Lora to college. Think of anything but this moment.
“You have an ass made for fucking,” she said by way of observation as if that were the most common thing to say to a stranger, much less a teenager. “You’d better get right with the idea because with an ass like yours…it’s going to happen.” Suddenly, she must’ve taken pity on me because she added, “it can be pleasurable if done right. Hopefully, your buyer will be kind and be gentle so that you can enjoy, it too. Otherwise, it’ll feel as if someone is pulling you apart. The pain can be excruciating.”
This woman was a sadist. How could she say something so flippant to someone who was obviously nervous and scared? I hated her hands on me. I hated what she was doing. I hated everything about this degrading situation I’d signed up for.
“When is the auction?” I asked, bracing myself for the answer.
“Tonight.”
Her answer chilled me. It made sense. That’s why we were being prepped today. The auction loomed and I couldn’t catch my breath for a moment. Again, I felt dizzy. Maybe it was because I had something up my butt already but I was nearing a freak-out level. I didn’t feel like an adult who’d made a conscious decision to control my fate — I felt like a little kid who was about to get molested by a stranger.
I worried about Tana. I doubted she was handling the butt care very well. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to think about anything but how I was doing something that was going to better my life.
“Who is Madame Moirai?” I asked, gritting my teeth as my stomach cramped from the warm soapy water going up my colon. “Fuck, this sucks!”
“Hold it in as long as you can,” she instructed. “The longer you hold it, the better it works.”
“What kind of perverts are going to be invited to this shindig?” I asked, holding my breath as I struggled to hold onto my dignity and my bowels. “This is disgusting.”
“No, this is necessary for anal play or else you’re going to make a terrible mess once a cock goes up there,” she answered as if this wasn’t the most degrading experience of my life. “Besides, it’s also a safety precaution for the buyer as well. No one wants a poopy surprise.”
I gagged. That wasn’t going to happen. Good God, that wasn’t going to happen! Tears trickled from my eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m in a nightmare.”
Her wry chuckle had nothing in common with kindness or understanding. If anything, there was an undercurrent of scorn as she said, “You knew what you were signing up for. Do you know how incredibly lucky you are to be chosen as a Madame Moirai offering? She’s known for procuring only the best, which means you must have something special.”