Before me in my office at the Institute sat two parents of their repossessed daughter, Felicity Bogan. The red faced father was a lawyer, a general practitioner; mother, head down in humiliation, was a nurse. I forced a smile at them.
Straining to launch into an argument, Lawyer Bogan rose to roar, "Why weren't we notified, as the law requires of the reposition together with a statement of the amount due?"
I looked down at the file, before I recited, "`Felicity Bogan, age 19, 5 ft 5 in, 125 pounds, red hair, hazel eyes, 32 -- 28 -- 30, no scars, no tattoos, birth mark on left buttocks, bar coded on right hip, gave her indenture to secure loan on payment for new car.' For reasons, known only to her, Felicity chose not to send you folks notice of her Indenture. I'm sure Lawyer Bogan, you understand the law gives Felicity that right, once she came of age."
Looking down at the file. I saw that parent's financial profile revealed considerable debt, but not serious enough to require a personal indenture to secure the existing, outstanding obligations. The mother, well groomed, appeared to be in good health. Though in her mid - 40s, she was attractive enough to assay well. Nurses, even those nearing middle age, sold well on the auction block.
The Institute would like mother to join her daughter as assets of the Institute under indenture. Could I accomplish the task?
"We were unaware Felicity was taken," the mother noted, "We heard from her around holiday time by text message that she was going off with her roommate. If Felicity were taken three months ago, how did she receive passing grades this past semester?"
The roommate was now one of our assets assisting our capture teams operating in college towns. Even though I knew the answer, I projected an air of detached but empathetic concern. "The Institute may have allowed Felicity to complete her course work remotely. Have you contacted her roommate?"
The father shook his head. "We tried. Her roommate switched programmes and transferred. We couldn't track her down."
"Redemption time on your daughter, Felicity, has expired," I noted. "The Institute is offering Felicity to you in a private sale in lieu of sending her to the auction. Felicity has finished only a year and a half on her degree," I looked down at the file, "in dramatics."
"Dramatics does teach you to play a part not truly your own," Mrs Bogan interjected.
Indeed, Mrs Bogan herself did hold some potential playing the role of a companion, a mature courtesan -- or personal confidante of a wealthy doctor. I wondered what lay under the demure fashionable dark clothing concealing her assets. We'd know when Mrs Bogan was stripped for examination, bar coding and chipping in connection with an indenture. I hoped we'd find an older version of Felicity perhaps.
"Dramatics are important to the role the Institute has projected for Felicity," I revealed the future the Institute would design for Felicity, "Likely at auction, Felicity is knowledgeable and refined enough to qualify for sale to a reputable Parlour which provides Courtesans for the influential and well -- heeled. The Institute offers you the option of a private purchase. Would you like to inspect the product?"
"Product? You speak of my daughter!" the husband exclaimed while the wife, lowered her head and held back tears.
"Should I produce her for your examination?" I asked.
At the husband's nod, I pressed a button on my phone. In walked, Felicity, naked, hands secured behind her back. Holding Felicity's elbow, a female security officer, around the same size, whose dark blue trousers and light blue shirt squeaked with her every move.
Facing the wall, Felicity was ordered to bend at the waist as the officer used an electronic notebook to read the bar code.
"Felicity Bogan," the security officer reported, "age 19, 5 ft 5 in, 125 pounds, red hair, hazel eyes, 32 -- 28 -- 30, no scars, no tattoos, birth mark on left buttocks, bar coded on right hip, indentured to secure car loan, notice of default and delinquency given, repossessed at River Bend, tracking chips inserted in left breast and right buttocks by capture team upon apprehension."
"Thank you," Nodding to the security officer, I declared, "The identity of the indenturee is verified."
The security officer re-positioned Felicity to present her parents with full frontal nudity. Noticing her parents, Felicity gasped but did not speak. Her mother ran up to embrace Felicity. The cold steely eyed guard stepped between them. Felicity looked away.
"Felicity is Institute property," rising to walk over to Felicity, I cautioned the parents, "you may look, but not touch."
The Husband's face was crimson red. Placing his fair skinned nude daughter in all her glory under his scrutiny, brought him to the verge of explosion, at me, no, most likely at himself for that erection that sprouted quicker than one a hormone crazed teenager watching a sexploitation film the first time might have raised. I decided, Lawyer Bogan is more embarrassed than angry. I would strive to be as gentle as possible.
"Felicity," I remarked, "comes from good genes. She's younger version of her mother combined with her father's strength." Squeezing Felicity's biceps, I added, "daily physical training has improved her muscle tone."
I snickered to myself, I wonder which parent would masturbate at viewing Felicity's promo photos to advertise her for auction. Would it be the father? Or would the Mother rub one out and let the father watch and wistfully fantasize?
Though I could see the Husband barely containing himself, I continued the presentation, "Felicity has been with us for some three months." We have proposed to change her name to Honey, like the color of her hair, honey -- blond. Right now, her hair is clipped short. The kennel clip we call it, is easiest to maintain. You'll notice the triangular tuft of pubic hair remaining on Felicity mons pubis pointed to her vaginal slit. It doesn't serve as a direction -- finder as much as it demonstrates that her attractive hair color is natural. Up to now, we haven't changed her name, but..."
