002. The sentence of Immaculate

The boss stood up gracefully and walked around the desk, her heels echoing on the marble floor.

"You must be full of questions, and all of them will be answered in due time. But first, you need to understand your new position here," she said, stopping right in front of Amelia. "You are part of a larger plan, and your cooperation is crucial."

Amelia tried to stay calm, but panic was about to overwhelm her. She didn't dare to speak; every word coming out of the boss's mouth only increased her terror.

"Your new life can be much more comfortable if you decide to cooperate from the beginning. If not…" The boss left the threat hanging in the air, not needing to finish the sentence.

Amelia nodded slowly, feeling like she had no other choice. Every fiber of her being was on high alert, aware that any resistance would be futile and possibly dangerous.

"Now, stand up and follow me. I'll show you your new home and responsibilities," the boss ordered, returning to her desk to gather some documents before heading towards another door in the room.

Amelia stood up with difficulty, her legs trembling with fear and tension. She followed the boss, feeling the weight of her new reality crushing her with every step. The guard observed her in silence, ready to intervene if necessary, but Amelia knew she had no choice but to keep going.

Terror and uncertainty were her new companions, and as she crossed another door into the unknown, she could only hope to survive whatever the boss had planned for her.

Amelia followed the boss to a room filled with screens, where a guard was carefully monitoring them.

"These monitors control the novice area," the boss said, pointing at the screens.

Amelia watched the screens attentively. Each one displayed different rooms: individual bedrooms, a gym, a beauty salon, and a learning room. In some rooms, other women were visible, all with their heads bowed, moving slowly and resignedly. The fear on their faces made Amelia shiver.

"As you can see, there are several rooms: one for each of you. You can freely choose to be in your room, the gym, the beauty salon, or the learning room. As long as you behave, you are free within these limits."

Amelia nodded, not fully understanding where the conversation was heading. She looked at the monitors: ten rooms, four occupied by guards and sleeping women. The other six were empty. Four girls were in the gym, and one in the study room, which had ten computer stations.

"Let's go back to my office," the boss ordered.

Amelia followed the boss, still terrified and not fully understanding anything. When they returned to the office, the boss sat down. There was no need to feel the guard's hand again; Amelia knelt in her previous position.

"You must be wondering who I am, why you've been turned into a woman, and why you're here."

Amelia trembled at the boss's words. There didn't seem to be any hidden threat, but if she had been turned into a woman and deprived of her freedom, she couldn't expect anything good.

"My name is Inmaculada Montalbán Galán."

Amelia knew the name well. Inmaculada had built an empire in just ten years. At only thirty-two years old, she was the most influential woman in the city and, without a doubt, one of the top five or ten businesswomen in the country. Although there were rumors that she wasn't only involved in legal businesses.

"I see my name isn't unfamiliar to you," Inmaculada smiled as she saw Amelia's recognition. "Why were you turned? You participated in a gang rape, and this is your punishment."

"That's not true, I didn't do anything," Amelia defended herself, only to be struck on the back of her head by the guard's open hand.

"Indeed, you did nothing. You didn't stop it, nor did you report it. You even recorded it," the video he had recorded appeared on the screen behind Inmaculada.

Amelia hung her head in shame. She had no defense.

"I've been reviewing your social media. You believe prostitution empowers women, so you should feel fine with your punishment. You'll be a companion. I believe prostitution demeans women, but not men turned into women."

Amelia began to cry. She didn't want to sleep with other men. She wasn't gay; she couldn't do it.

"If you're compliant with the clients, you'll be a luxury escort; if not, you'll be sold to a trafficking gang. If you do your job very well, you could eventually end up free, and I might even offer you a chance to return to being a man."

Inmaculada's words echoed in Amelia's mind like an inescapable sentence. Tears streamed down her cheeks, tracing a path of pain and despair. Every word the boss uttered deepened her terror and helplessness, dragging her into an abyss from which she saw no escape. The future unfolded before her as a bleak and suffering-filled landscape. Amelia painfully understood that her life would never be the same.

"Honestly, I hope you learn and that we even become good friends," Inmaculada smiled, her coldness sending shivers down Amelia's spine. "Your resume isn't bad at all: you speak Spanish, English, and French. You graduated with top honors in economics. If you learn how to please men, you could become a highly sought-after and well-paid escort. But if things go as I plan, you might even end up as the mistress or wife of a great businessman. That, my friend, would be beneficial for both you and me."

Amelia tried to process Inmaculada's statement. She knew well that connections in the business world were everything. But the idea of going from being a prostitute to becoming a high-society lady seemed absurd, almost laughable. How could she even think of such a thing? The contradiction was overwhelming, and the hope Inmaculada tried to offer felt hollow and distant.

"Do you really believe a prostitute can become a respectable lady?" Amelia murmured, more to herself than to Inmaculada.

The boss, sensing her disbelief, maintained her calculated smile.

"Life is full of twists and turns, Amelia. Appearances can change, and with them, society's perceptions. With the right contacts and your intelligence, you could climb to positions that now seem unattainable. Of course, it all depends on your willingness to learn and adapt to your new reality."

Amelia lowered her head, feeling the weight of Inmaculada's expectations. The promise of freedom and a possible return to her male identity was a tempting bait, but the humiliation and horror of what she would have to endure to get there seemed unbearable. Despite it all, a spark of determination began to ignite within her. If there was a chance, however slight, of regaining her life or even changing her fate, she would have to find a way to endure and overcome the challenges ahead.

Amelia knew the path would be arduous and filled with suffering, but now she had a goal, a hope to fight for, however faint and distant it might be.

"What punishment awaits my friends?" Amelia dared to ask. If she was being condemned to be a woman and prostitute herself for simply not stopping them and recording the scene, what kind of punishment could be in store for them?

"You've already seen your four friends, though they haven't woken up yet. They'll be sold to a human trafficking ring. Their actions are beyond redemption, and their resumes aren't as impressive," the smile on Inmaculada's lips was terrifying to Amelia. "I'm very demanding with my friends. They must have committed minor offenses, in my opinion, and have a good background. You barely escaped; doing nothing is a minor offense, but recording the scene is a serious one. However, since you didn't share the video and your resume is so impressive, I've decided to give you a chance."

"And the mothers of those children? Are they not women worthy of your mercy?"

"Those mothers failed in raising their children. Enough of questioning my decision. Eduard, take Amelia to the salon and then for her virginity auction photos. After that, show her the rest of the facilities and explain how everything works," Inmaculada's voice turned cold and ruthless.

For a moment, Amelia had thought they could be friends and discuss the decision as equals, but that change in tone made their positions clear: Inmaculada was the boss, and she was merely a tool. She felt Eduard's hand grab her neck, forcing her to stand and then turning her towards the door through which they had initially entered.

As they walked back to the novice wing, Amelia advanced in terror. She didn't want to end up being sold off to be deflowered by a stranger. She didn't care about the buyer; he would probably just be a degenerate whose only interest in her was adding another virgin to his count.

"Eduard, how can you live with yourself knowing what they do to us? How can you help her wield her power?" she tried to gain Eduard's sympathy, hoping he might let her escape.

Eduard glanced at her sideways without changing his hard expression.

"It's not that simple, Amelia. We all have our reasons for being here. Don't think you have any power over me with questions like that. Your place is to follow orders and learn how to survive in your new reality."

Amelia felt a lump in her throat. The hope of finding an ally in Eduard was fading quickly. As they moved forward, they passed by other girls, all with empty and resigned looks. Each was a reflection of the fate that awaited her if she couldn't find a way to escape.

They arrived at the salon, a bright and clean place filled with mirrors and workstations. Several women were being attended to, their faces and bodies being transformed to meet the expectations of their future buyers. Eduard handed her over to a beautician, who looked at her with a mix of curiosity and professionalism.

"Get her ready for the photo session," Eduard ordered before leaving the room.

Amelia sat in a chair, feeling the coolness of the leather beneath her. The beautician began working on her hair and makeup, further transforming her into the image of perfection that was expected. Every touch, every brushstroke distanced her further from the person she had once been.

While they prepared her, Amelia got lost in her thoughts. Desperation and fear overwhelmed her, but somewhere deep inside, a spark of determination flickered. If there was even the slightest chance of escape, of changing her fate, she would have to find it and cling to it with all her might.

Once ready, they took her to an improvised photo studio. The lights shone brightly, momentarily blinding her. The photographer instructed her on how to pose, his instructions cold and mechanical. Amelia followed each direction, trying to block out what these photos meant.

"Perfect, now give me a smile," the photographer ordered, and Amelia forced a smile, although her eyes still reflected her terror.

After the photo session, Eduard picked her up again and took her on a tour of the rest of the facilities. Amelia tried to memorize every detail, every possible exit, although she knew that escaping would be nearly impossible. Eduard explained the function of each area, but Amelia barely listened, her mind still trapped in the horror of what awaited her.

Finally, they returned to the novice wing. Eduard left her in her room, closing the door behind her. Amelia collapsed onto the bed, feeling as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Inmaculada's words and the reality of her situation overwhelmed her, but deep down, she knew she had to find a way to survive and, if possible, escape from this hell.