My fingers trembled so violently over the keyboard that I had to clench my fists twice just to steady them. The cursor on the “Submit Profile” button blinked like a heartbeat—steady, merciless, waiting for me to cross the line I could never uncross. Rina Thompson. 22 years old. Virgin. The words stared back at me from the stark white interface of VirginBid, the most exclusive, most depraved auction site on the shadowed edges of the internet. One click and my last shred of innocence would be catalogued, priced, and sold to the highest bidder.
I had no choice. Not anymore.
Two weeks earlier, the oncology ward at St. Mary’s had smelled of antiseptic and quiet despair. Dr. Patel’s voice had been gentle but final as she reviewed the fresh scans. “The cancer has returned, Rina. Stage three, m
