Virgin Wanted

By: Sierra Cole


At this, she pushes lightly on the wall and the whole things swivels around on itself, opening up the door to what looks like the most amazing walk-in wardrobe in existence. I only catch a small, tantalizing glimpse of what looks like an eye-watering array of gorgeous dresses and insane sparkling shoes before the door slides closed again.

“Well, I should leave you alone to prepare. Marcus will be returning home from work at seven o’ clock and he’s requested to see you in the Livingston suite for dinner. Don’t worry, I’ll be here to escort you to it, I know what a maze this place can be. But do make sure to be ready for him, won’t you? Choose something nice to wear. And make sure you are fully bathed, if you understand what I’m saying?”

I nod, feeling a sudden rush of heat to my cheeks, as I realize all over again just why I’m here in this situation. And it seems like this strange older woman is just as aware of my function as I am.

“With all that said, I’ll leave you alone now,” she says, smiling at me for the first time, a flash of warmth entering her previously stern features.

“Oh, what’s your name by the way?” I ask as she’s turning to leave, returning her smile with one of my own. “I’m Alisha.”

I hold out my hand to her, and when she shakes it, her own fingers are surprisingly cold and bony.

“My name’s Helena,” she says, again kind of taken aback, just like Trent was, as if she’s not used to being talked to like a regular human being. “And I’m here to look after you. Anything you could possibly want – just ask and you can be sure I’ll do it for you.”

What could I possibly want? I think. I mean, I’m already in this amazing house. What else could I need?

At this she gives me a look and says softly, “Now forgive me if this is presumptuous, my dear, but I’m guessing you’re not exactly used to being waited on hand and foot?”

“You guessed correct,” I reply with a shrug.

“I thought so. You look like a girl who knows how to take care of herself. Well, my dear, I certainly applaud that. But please – do not feel shy to ask for anything you need. And for starters, to show you exactly what I mean, I’m going to bring you a cup of the most delicious hot chocolate you’ve ever tasted in your life. Sound okay?”

“That sounds great,” I reply.

She’s right, I’ve never asked for anything. There were some years we were so broke, I didn’t even dare ask for anything on my birthday or Christmas – we were so damn poor, and I didn’t want to stress my Mom out, and there was no way she could afford anything anyway, so I just pretended like I didn’t want anything.

Helena slips out of the room, leaving me alone to explore. I shake my head – still marveling at just how damn gigantic this place is. Then I remember the walk-in wardrobe, and I just cant resist taking a peek.

I gingerly approach the same panel of wall that Helena touched and lay my palm on it softly and sure enough, the whole section of wall begins to revolve, revealing the most amazing array of designer clothes and shoes.

I can hardly bring myself to touch them as I step timidly into the long room, adorned at one end with a huge mirror, running my fingers along the silken racks of garments – every design and color under the sun.

Never in my life have I been in the presence of so many amazing clothes before. You should know this about me: I love clothes. Since I was old enough to thread a needle, I’ve been making my own outfits, and modifying my own clothes, and reading up everything I can online about the world of high fashion, spending whole days with my nose pressed up to the computer screens in the public library, imagining what it would be like to actually be at a catwalk exhibition, or to try on a twenty thousand dollar Stella McCartney dress.

And now here I am, standing in a room with more designer dresses than the whole of Paris fashion week rolled into one!

I remember what Helena told me: that I need to choose something for tonight. For dinner with Marcus. And I’m guessing it’s not only dinner that’s on the menu.

I feel another sudden lurch of nerves, as I realize all over again just what I’ve got myself into ...

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