Lizbeth meets us in the hallway right before we come in and shuttles us out to another room. This is the waiting room with some refreshments at the far corner of the room. I count the girls as we wait for the auction to start. There are ten girls there, all in various levels of undress. About four are completely naked, sitting and chatting so comfortably as if they’re wearing their pajamas. Then there are a couple in their bra and panties, two just in panties, and two who are still dressed in dresses. I’m one of those. Suddenly, I feel very overdressed for the occasion, as if I had shown up to a baseball game wearing a prom dress.

The stage is right in front of us and Lizbeth positions herself at the podium. She’s going to be the auctioneer. I peek out to get a look at the men in the room. There are many familiar faces there including Blake Garrison and Harrison Brooks. Some are young like them, but there are also plenty of old men too. I’ve never been with anyone over thirty. But the men in the audience aren’t just old. They’re really old. Fifties and sixties. Maybe even older. Grey hair and overweight. Shit. What did I expect? I mean, this is a luxury super-yacht. Not many hot men in their twenties can afford this type of party.

Lizbeth introduces herself to the audience and goes over the rules. They are supposed to stay quiet and raise their paddles when they want to make a bid. Once she calls out a price three times and no one goes higher, then the girl goes to that bidder. They are expected to make out a check, money order, or wire transfer to her choice of bank account before they are allowed to take her to their cabin.

I tap my fingers on the table nervously waiting for the auction to start. A few minutes later, it finally starts. Lizbeth calls out the first name. Arabella, an excited nude girl in the back, jumps up and runs in four inch heels to the stage. I keep waiting for her to trip, but she’s an expert in those things.

When she gets to the beginning of the stage, she takes a deep breath and walks out with poise and confidence. A bright flood light hits her body as the rest of the room goes dark. Lizbeth introduces the girl by her name and height but doesn’t say anything else about her. Then she starts the bidding at ten thousand.

Quickly the paddles start to go up. The price starts to climb. When it reaches fifty thousand, Arabella smiles from ear to ear, turns around coyly and bends over. Her legs are spread shoulder-length apart and her head bends all the way to the floor in a perfect yoga pose. The bidding continues to climb higher. It quickly reaches ninety thousand. It stays there for three counts and Lizbeth yells, “Sold for $90,000 to the gentleman in the back.”

I can’t quench my curiosity anymore. I go to the far corner of the stage and peak out to see who bought her. The men in the back high-five an older guy who is clearly in his sixties. My heart sinks. Really? Am I really going to have to sleep with a sixty-year-old?

But Arabella comes back to the room with her head held high. She’s over the moon by the process.

“I made forty-grand last year cleaning hotel rooms,” she says to her friend. “Ninety grand, tax free, for one night of sex? Yes please!”

A meek little man with glasses and a brief case walks over to her and asks her how she wants the money. While they do the paperwork, Lizbeth starts the auction again. This time, she calls Olivia. Her eyes open wide and she takes a deep breath.

“Good luck,” I whisper. She fakes a smile and heads to the stage. She’s not as excited as Arabella. But she walks out there with her head held high. Again, Lizbeth starts the bidding at ten thousand. That appears to be the starting point. Unlike Arabella, she does not do anything but stand there with her hands on her hips. She is dressed in a bra and panties and her body looks like it’s covered in glitter under the spotlight.

Ten thousand dollars might not be ninety, but it’s still an insane amount of money, I say to myself. I mean, I make a third of that working all year. So, even if I only get ten thousand, that’s okay. But no matter how much I try to convince myself, I still feel like I’m going to throw up at the prospect of going up there.

Olivia’s auction goes up to eighty thousand and she’s bought by a man in his forties. When she comes back to the table, she seems satisfied by that number. I would be too. I think ten grand is worth sleeping with someone who is much younger than Arabella’s man.

When the little man with the briefcase comes over to Olivia, she asks if she can have the money in cash. He says that they don't have that much on hand. She debates whether she should get a money order or let the money be put directly into her checking account. She’s thinking about the tax repercussions. Obviously, cash is best then she doesn't have to lose thirty percent to the government. But who the hell wants to walk around with ninety thousand in cash around New York City? Finally, she gives him her checking account number.

I’m so engrossed in their conversation that I don't notice that Lizbeth has started the auction again. And she called my name!

“Ellie!” Lizbeth says again and again. Olivia elbows me in the ribs. I’m so caught-off guard that I don't even have time to worry about what is about to happen.

“She’s calling you,” Olivia says. I nod and stand up. Is this really happening? I walk over to the stage. I’m a dead woman walking.