20 - Fiona
Everyone's staring at me like I'm meat and the bidding keeps going up and up. I don't think this is normal. A few of the girls in the crowd look really pissed off at the fact that I'm apparently bringing in some huge, previously unheard of price.
Well, you know what? It's not my fault! I didn't even want to wear this dress, which is honestly way too much. Why is it that all of my wardrobe issues or malfunctions or whatever you want to call them end up involving Emily? That's not entirely true, though. Sometimes they involved Daddy but those ones are a lot more calculated and intentional. Those are the complicated ones and I don't have time to explain that right now.
One, two, three, four. Hundreds of dollars. Twenty-five, fifty, seventy-five. I don't know what's even going on anymore. I'm not sure what I'm going to sell for, and if I'm being incredibly honest I don't want to be sold to any of these guys anyways.
The bidding slows down eventually, but both groups of guys that are still going keep staring at me. It's like they're waiting for me to do something, but I don't know what. Do they think I'm going to start acting like a stripper? Because, um... no. Nope! Not going to happen, boys.
I wouldn't mind stripping for Daddy, though. Privately, I mean. If I just came up to him while he was sitting on the couch and distracted him by swaying my hips side to side, seductive, until he couldn't take his eyes off me. Daddy doesn't look at me like I'm meat, not like some generic fast food burger on his plate when he's hungry and he doesn't care what he eats. Not even like filet mignon, which I used to think was really good, but...
No, Daddy looks at me like I'm the highest quality possible, like I'm some prime cut of Japanese A5 Kobe steak. And I've never had that, so I don't know how good it is, but Daddy assures me it's the best meat that money can buy and it's amazing.
That's me. I'm amazing! Thank you, Daddy...
So honestly it's really frustrating to be looked at like I'm a burger by frat boys who aren't anywhere near as wonderful as Daddy. Maybe it's frustrating to the girls in the audience around the stage, and I can sort of see why they'd be jealous. I used to get jealous when girls would flirt with Daddy, and I still kind of do. Like that woman at the hotel? Ugh!
A new group of guys walks into the main reception room, stepping through the door opposite where Emily and I are standing. I look over quick, just because I see them coming in. Nothing interesting there, no reason to...
Um... hello there...
Wait, no! I didn't just think that. Nope, not even a little, not at all, no way no how, nuh uh...
I don't know, but the tallest guy that just walked in, the one wearing a smooth black cape like he's some sort of suave and sophisticated prince or maybe a superhero (or a supervillain?) or a vampire or... I mean, basically all of the sexiest kinds of guys in stories look like he looks, with his cape and his red mask. His hair is mussed up a little, almost like he woke up that way, except in the best possible way.
Daddy has hair like that sometimes. Did he have hair like that today? I think he might have, which is even more annoying, because why does this sexy guy who just walked in remind me of Daddy? I don't like that. Daddy should remind me of Daddy, not this sexy vampire dark superhero prince.
The four guys who just walked in take a few seconds to survey their surroundings. I don't mean to stare, but there's just something about him... I don't know what, but...
And then I realize the final bid is coming to a close. Oh no. No no no no no!
“Five-hundred going once! Five-hundred going twice!”
Sold. That's what's next. I'm pretty sure that's how this works. We haven't gotten there yet, but I've seen auctions and stuff in movies, so I think I know how this usually goes.
“One-thousand!” someone shouts from the back.
The room grows quiet. No one says anything for the longest time. The girls glare hard at me, faces red, seething. The guys all turn, dazed and confused, looking towards the voice that just doubled and destroyed their bid in the span of half a second. Even the announcer on stage stands there with his mouth wide open, staring into a void of nothingness in front of him.
It's him. The person who bid on me is the black cape wearing man who just stepped into the room. With his three friends. And, um... what does that mean?
The announcer wants to know, too. “Is that a group bid?” he asks, hopeful, like maybe this is the only way he can make sense of the situation.
“What? No. She's mine,” he says, his tone gruff despite the easiness with which he says those words.
I'm his. Take me...
Wait, no, I'm not yours, asshole! I'm Daddy's! And I don't care how sexy you kind of look. It's just the lighting probably. It's not exactly super bright in here. It's a little dark and he's way in the back, and...
“Anyone else?” the announcer asks. “Yeah, not sure how you can top that. Going once. Going twice. And... sold to billionaire Bruce Wayne in the back!”
He's a billionaire? Um, no. I'm dumb. Ugh. Bruce Wayne is Batman. Duh, Fiona...
“Batman, huh?” Emily asks, grinning at me. “I wonder what kind of gadgets he brought?”
“Emi--“ I start to say. “Alice. Really now. Ugh.”
“I'm just saying, Batman has all sorts of gadgets, and I'm sure some of them could be really kinky, right? He could tie you up with the rope from a grappling hook baterang or something.”
“Alright, since when are you into Batman?” I ask her, hands on my hips.
“Who isn't into Batman?” she asks, confused.
“Um, me,” I say. “I'm not.”
“You sure? Because that guy in the Batman cape looks like all sorts of your type.”
“He's not,” I say, stomping one foot. “I'm not going to--”
We're cut off by the guy on stage who wants to start up the next auction. “Next up is the lovely--” he says, turning towards her.
“Alice,” she says with a sugary sweet smile.
“Alice! Which is probably not her real name, or else someone's about to get a penalty tonight.”
The crowd laughs and Emily just shakes her finger at them and grins. “Nope!”
“We'll start the bidding higher. This is the last auction of the night, everyone. Can we get one-hundred?”
Mr. Sexy Batman in the back is talking to one of his sidekicks or whoever the other guys he's with are. They're arguing about something, but they look more flustered than anything. The boy in the grey vest shakes his head and holds his hands up. Nope. No way. Not going to...
The guy in the cape glares at him, though. Grey Vest balks and looks down for a second. The Caped Avenger pats him on the shoulder and it seems like they have a moment of understanding.
“One-twenty-five! Do I hear one-thirty?”
“A thousand,” someone says, loudly muttering, not nearly as confident as the previous four-figure shout.
“Uh, what?” the guy on stage with us asks. “Can you say that again?”
“A thousand!” he shouts.
It's the guy with my sexy superhero bidder. Grey Vest holds his hand up, looking like he's about to pass out or die or everything else nerve-wracking all at once.
“Uh, sure, well...” the announcer says, even more confused the second time around. “Anyone else? Going once. Twice. Sold...”
And that's how Emily and I got sold at a charity auction for seven minutes of action in a back room at a frat house.
Best Valentine's Day ever or what? Yeah, um...
Actually, it didn't turn out so bad...