You are forced onto the dimly lit stage, your heart pounding against your ribs, the cold hard wood of the platform biting into your bare flesh. You shiver, not from the cold, but from the stares of the countless men crowded into the room, their eyes fixed on your body as if they were starving for a feast.

For you are not just a woman; you are the last woman on earth. The men in the room know this, and you can see the lust, the greed, the desire burning in their gazes.

A broad, dark man steps onto the platform with a wicked chuckle, his eyes raking over your trembling form, taking in every curve and contour. He is the auctioneer, and he is here to sell you to the highest bidder. "Alright, let's begin this auction." He calls out, his voice a sinister hiss that echoes through the room. The men in the room erupt into a frenzy, their hands shooting into the air, bids spilling from their lips.

The numbers grow higher and higher, billions turning into trillions, the air thick with the scent of desire and depravity. You can barely hear over the din of the voices, drowning out the fear that threatens to overtake you.