The CEO's Seductive Doll-Chapter 156: Eternity: Doll

[Warning: Physical Abuse is present in this Chapter. Read at your own risk.]

For as long as the Maestra was alive, it was important to note that she had lived a long and fulfilling life. She lived in a patriarchal society where women were treated like second-class citizens.

This was more apparent and rampant on the small island she lived in. Back then, the mysterious island wasn’t called Manika. It was only named as such when the Maestra started creating her Eternity Women, which were the main product and attraction of the island.

Hence the name ’Manika,’ which meant ’doll.

Returning to the topic at hand, before Manika was known for what it is now, the men of her island used women as slaves, both physically and sexually.

In fact, the Maestra herself was a victim of slavery.

"What a shame that she’s still too young to be sold," one of her father’s (or, should she say, master since her mother was just a slave to him) friends, a man in his 40s, commented. "She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!"

"Just wait for a couple more months," her father said, drinking a hefty amount of ale from the wooden beer cup that he was holding. "She’s probably going to start her monthly bleeding soon."

"Isn’t she 13 years old?" The friend asked. "A perfect age for a woman to bear children."

The Maestra’s father nodded.

"It’ll only take a few months before she blooms into a real woman. Once she does, I’ll take note of your bid."

"Ey!" Her father’s friend exclaimed. "I thought you’d sell her to me! You didn’t mention that you’re planning to auction her!"

Her master/father laughed boisterously, glancing at the young Maestra, who was currently using the pottery wheel. She seemed quite happy as she made a clay pot, looking up only for a second, only to catch her father’s gaze.

She beamed at him.

Her father smiled back, raising his beer cup at her in acknowledgment.

The Maestra (this was not her name back then, but through the passing of time, no one can remember it anymore) showed signs of being a talented clay artisan, her father admitted. If only she had been born as a boy, then he would’ve taught her everything he knew about the craft.

But she was not a boy.

Her father returned his attention to his drinking buddy, offering a toothy smile.

"Like what you just said, she’s the most beautiful girl anyone could lay their eyes on. Imagine how much money I’ll be able to earn just by selling her."

***

A few months passed, and like what her father estimated, the Maestra did get her first menstruation. As soon as her bleeding finished, her father auctioned her off to the highest bidder.

"Mama!" The Maestra kneeled in front of her mother, grabbing her skirt for dear life. It was her last night in her family’s home, and it was her last night as a free woman. "Please, don’t let Father sell me off to a random man!"

Her mother could only kneel down at her level, giving her a tight hug as tears trailed down her cheeks.

"This is the path that every woman on our island must take."

The Maestra did not feel resentment toward her mother. After all, she underwent the same fate, and she herself had no say in the matter.

She knew that the real enemies were her father, who sold her off as if she were mere livestock, as well as the patriarchy (a word she was not familiar with at that age), who allowed and promoted such things to happen.

On her last night as a free woman, before she could be sent to the old man who bought her, the Maestra escaped and ran inside the jungle. Although she knew that their island was small and that it was merely a matter of time before her father and buyer would hunt her down, she tried her best to run away from the inevitable.

As she ran through the night, the Maestra sobbed as she prayed to the gods, or whoever was up there, to save her from her tragic fate.

In her desperation for escape, the Maestra kept running. She ran and ran as far as her feet could take her. But her eyes didn’t see the cliff ahead of her.

The gods must have heard her prayer, because they granted it.

Although in the most fucked-up way possible.

The next day, a search party hired by her father found her floating on a lake. They brought her body back ashore, only to realize that she was still alive and breathing.

When they brought her back to their family’s hut, her father was furious. He beat her until she was black and blue, screaming, "Your buyer retracted his offer after what you did! Now I earn him a debt after all the trouble you have caused!"

"P-papa," she whispered weakly. Her left eye was half-open, and her bruised mouth could barely move as she spoke. "I can mitigate this."

"How?!" he shouted. "Do you think anyone else will buy you after what you did?"

The Maestra shook her head.

"I can give him a replacement."

Her master-father couldn’t understand what she meant by ’replacement’ and was ready to beat her bloody again. But the Maestra went to his workroom and started molding clay. He left her to her own devices for the night, only to see what seemed to be a figure of a woman in his workroom in the morning.

"You think he’ll accept a woman made out of clay?!" he scoffed as he barged into the room. "I should kill you for deceiving and making a fool out of me!"

But the woman of clay started to move, much to the horror of her father and mother.

The woman was the embodiment of beauty, with long red hair and moss-green eyes. She had the figure of what the current generation would call ’a model’. She stood up from the table, walking toward her creator’s failure of a father in pure nakedness.

"W-who are you?!" He demanded, backing away as she went closer and closer to him.

The Maestra looked tired after staying all night to make her. It was even harder in her beaten-up state, but she managed to stand up from her seat and stand right next to her creation.

"She is an Eternity Woman," she said. "A woman whose beauty will last for an eternity."