I can’t think while listening to this droning. These people act like they’re children, bickering back and forth over who gets who and who, when they’re picking from thousands of specimens. It's hard to imagine that any one of the specimens is that much better than any of the rest, at least, not better enough to bicker over like this. They all act as if not every one of them have private channels to source their own assets. Most of them have no need at all to even come to the common pool, they use it as a social gathering to meet with other leaders in the industry and invest with those that might be moving up in the scene. I personally am here because some of my assets were permanently purchased, and I need replacements. None of the girls that I sold off were of a high enough quality for me to open private sourcing channels to replace them, and so here I am listening to this mind-numbing pointless banter. I picked my replacements about 30 minutes ago, but now I must wait for the rest of the bidders to solidify their deals, and that, at this rate could take ages.

Finally, the auction ends, I got everything I wanted, and I even opted to take one extra at the last moment when I saw a good deal. Now to go meet them and see how they behave. I stand up from the chair in my booth overlooking the auction floor, one among about a hundred identical booths that pepper the domed ceiling of the venue. Hopefully I have made good choices tonight. I do hope that none of these girls will be trouble as I was. I take the lift to my room, Deidra in tow. Management has already pulled and sent the girls I purchased to my personal chambers here at the auction house, they should be prepped and ready for presentation.

“Deidra honey, go get drinks for us, we want them to feel welcomed into our family,” I say. Girls that think of their management as allies and partners are much easier to get along with and in general, better at their job as a result.

“Yes Miss, of course,” says Deidra, as she scurries off to get whatever the house has readily accessible.

As I walk into my waiting room, I see my girls sitting together, looking rather nervous, some more than others. It always interests me the different ways that the girls end up here, some of them volunteer, some of them are given up by their parents, and some of them are coerced through one method or another. It makes a big difference in their perception of who I am and who I will be to them obviously. Ultimately though, how they got here will have almost no bearing on what their lives will be like in the company’s service.

“Hello, it’s nice to see you all. I just want to set one thing straight before we get into anything. Whatever your lives have been like up until this point, chances are, they will be taking a turn for the better soon. Here under my company, we treat all our companions with respect and compassion. Most, if not all of you will be placed with people in positions of wealth and power and you will live lavishly in their company. So, along with whatever ideas you have about what we do, at least keep those things in mind. I am going to talk with each of you individually, and so starting with you dear, we’re going to have a quick talk each of us.” As I’m telling them this, I can see the stress physically lift off their faces, as if me telling them they will be treated with basic dignity erased all their fears and worries. “Come on love,” I say, gesturing towards the girl I had just mentioned. She stands and follows me as I stroll towards my room.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“So dear, tell me your name please,” I say, she was the most confident of the bunch from what I saw, and so it’s no surprise when her response is quick and firm.

“My name is Aisha, and I wanted to come here, unlike the other girls in the waiting room.” In addition to being confident, she is beautiful. I mean obviously she’s beautiful, that’s one of the only things that you’re picking based on in the auction, but my, ivory skin, with pale blue eyes, slender and graceful, she is fine. She says that she wanted to come, but I do wonder if she knows exactly what she volunteered for. Although what I said to the girls is true, they will most likely be living lavishly, that comes after they’ve been trained and modified. All the companions in my company undergo extensive training in several categories: societal routines and mindfulness, as well as training to properly please their patrons. All companions have mental modifications to make them more obedient and willing for their patrons as well as many other small changes. Not many want their psyche modified in such ways.

“That’s wonderful that you wanted to come Aisha. I want to make you aware that you’ll be in training for at least a year before you are placed with a patron. After you ask me whatever questions you have, you will be sent to have your modifications preformed. Now’s your chance to ask whatever you want about your future life,” I tell her, and no, she apparently was unaware of the length of the training as well as the modifications, as her confident face shows every thought in her pretty head; we’ll fix that habit.

“Is there any way to complete the training in less than a year? And what modifications are going to be made?” She asks.

“No, not even our best companions complete their training in less than a year. The modifications will all be mental, none physical. Your physical characteristics are why I bid as high as I did for you. They will be to make sure that you are as pleasing as possible to your patrons, they won’t affect your sense of self in the slightest, don’t worry about that. You’ll still feel like you,” I say. At this point, most new companions are feeling a sense of relief as most of them come from nothing and generally live uncomfortable lives. The prospect of training generally doesn’t seem so bad given their prior situation. In Aisha’s case though, it seems that she is having the opposite feeling, as if she were tricked into coming here. “Anything else? hmm, good, okay, go through that door to your right and you’ll be taken care of,” I say, gesturing to the door. Aisha seems to be understanding what’s going on here and is visibly flustered, but she gets up and exits to the right. Alright, two more to go.