Commercial Break (Worm / Slut Life) (Borderline SFW)

Recruitment 1.2

---

Taylor perked up as a dozen crickets entered her awareness. As they approached, she amused herself by making one cricket chirp at a time while keeping the others silent. After that, she made them all chirp simultaneously. Then she started having the crickets chirp in a specific rhythm. By the time the crickets were outside of her door, she moved on to having each cricket chirp at its own rhythm.

There was a knock at the door, followed by Cindy’s voice, asking, “May I come in, Taylor?”

“Sure,” Taylor called back. The door opened and the redhead wheeled in another cart laden with food and a box of crickets.

“I see you’ve been watching some of the Contestants’ exploits,” Cindy commented, gesturing toward the television where one of the girls was working in a pastry shop, her ears and tail twitching occasionally, showing that they were very real, indeed.

“Yeah,” Taylor agreed. “I figured it’d be a good idea to get an idea of what I want and definitely don’t want to do.” She flushed in remembrance before adding, “And I can’t believe you had sex with a dragon! How does that even work?”

“You saw that, huh?” Cindy asked with a grin. “It was a bit rough at first, but the Flexible Holes mod is extremely effective. Besides, Smaug’s a sweetheart. He’s nothing like his namesake. Of course, not all of the dragons we have on staff are that accommodating with our contestants. Some of them just want a place to stick their dick, and the tighter the better. We’ve had some girls need serious medical treatment because they thought we were kidding when we suggested the mods they’d need if they wanted to tackle a dragon.”

“That sounds… unpleasant,” Taylor replied uneasily. To change the subject, she said, “So I see you brought the crickets.”

“Yup,” Cindy agreed, picking up the box and handing it over. “And I heard you syncing up their chirps. At least until the very end. What happened? Did you lose control over them or something?”

Taylor smirked in satisfaction. “No,” she denied, “I had each of them chirping at a different tempo.”

“That’s… really useful. Can you hear through them?”

Taylor concentrated for a moment before replying, “I think so, kind of. They haven’t really been around enough distinct noises for me to tell, and I don’t think they hear the same way we do, anyway. And, in here, it’s not worth trying, since I’d be hearing the television with my own ears at the same time as the bugs would be hearing it.”

“Hm, that’ll be another experiment to add to the pile. I’ll see about bringing a radio with me the next time I bring you more bugs,” Cindy commented, tapping her finger in contemplation. “It almost sounds like your power is a more specialized version of what some magical girls can do.”

“Great,” Taylor griped. “I get a useless power, and it’s not even a unique one.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” the redhead denied, shaking her head. “I don’t think I’ve seen any who were able to have them do anything that complex without putting a lot of effort into it. Did controlling all of the crickets tire you out at all?”

“No,” Taylor said, slightly more cheerfully. “I’ve had the spider you gave me making all sorts of webs while I was researching what other Contestants have done, and controlling the crickets was just as easy.”

“Good to hear,” Cindy said, happily. Her face became more serious as she continued, “Though, we do still need to see what happens when an insect dies when you’re controlling it. We’ve had some bad incidents with feedback before. To that end, I have a few healing potions on me in case anything happens.” She gestured towards the cart, where Taylor could see a rack of vials.

“Ye-yeah, I guess you’re right,” Taylor agreed nervously. “Um… how should we do this? Did you just want to squish one or have me feed one to my spider?”

Cindy thought for a moment before replying, “You may as well feed one of the crickets to the spider. That way we can see if you can override the insect’s survival instincts or if you can only influence them.”

“Sounds good to me,” Taylor agreed, opening the lid of the box. Eleven crickets sat still as the twelfth made an apparent bid for freedom, jumping out of the box as soon as the lid was off.

Taylor had the sacrificial cricket hop its way over to a corner of the bed while also having her spider climb back up from underneath. Once the cricket was in position, the spider slowly approached from within the cricket’s field of vision, giving it plenty of time to react. The cricket stayed still, allowing the spider to bite it before tying it up in webbing.

“Any issues?” Cindy asked, looking Taylor over critically.

“No issues controlling it,” Taylor stated absently. “I can tell the cricket was bitten, but I didn’t really feel it, if that makes sense. It’s still alive, by the way. The venom’s not that strong.” The spider bit the bundled up cricket again. “That should do it, I think. Yeah, it’s dead.”

“And you didn’t suffer any feedback,” Cindy noted. “That’s definitely a good sign. I’ll see about getting you an ant farm or something tomorrow. You’re taking to this well enough that we should be able to get you up to full exposure in no time.”

“That’s good to hear,” Taylor said, sighing in relief. “It’s a bit hard to not feel like a prisoner up here.”

“Ah, right, sorry about that,” Cindy said sheepishly. “I forgot to show you around last time. It’s pretty bare up here, since this is just a temporary holding facility for difficult cases, but there’s a few things to do.”

Taylor quirked an eyebrow in concern. “Difficult cases?”

Cindy nodded seriously. “Yeah, I think you’re the least worrisome person we’ve put up here, and that’s mostly in regards to your well being, not the safety of others. Occasionally, Recruitment gets the bright idea to get someone who doesn’t play well with others, on a large scale. There was this one guy, called himself Blight. He was radioactive to the point he was literally glowing. Definitely couldn’t have him stay near the other recruits like that, so we stuck him up here.”

“Wait… is this place still radioactive?” Taylor demanded, extremely worried about her future health.

“What?” Cindy asked in confusion before she shook a hand negatively. “Oh, no, nothing to worry about. We scrub this place for everything you could think of and then some things you can’t between every use. It’s safe.” As Taylor settled down, she continued, “Anyway, after we explained what we wanted with him, he signed up, got a brand new, radiation free body, and, six months later, we sent him back to his world with a couple million dollars.”

“Well… that’s good,” Taylor replied. “Better than having him making everyone around him sick.”

“We thought so,” Cindy agreed. “Besides, it was hilarious watching him deal with Tyrone.”

“Tyrone?” Taylor asked. “Is he someone I should know about?”

“He’s one of our more… aggressive owners,” Cindy admitted tactfully. “I believe they liken being with him with finding out what it’s like to be a prison bitch.” She shrugged. “Some people are into that kind of thing, and it’s good for ratings. Not my preference, though.”

“What’s this about owners?” Taylor asked, having heard the word used a few times so far, but not having had the context to figure out what was meant by it. The obvious answer had to be wrong, after all.

“Damn it, Tricher,” Cindy muttered, rubbing her temple. “This was supposed to be part of your recruiter’s job, but, as we’ve previously mentioned, he’s an ass.”

“Agreed. So, what’s an owner?”

Cindy huffed out a breath before answering, “Every contestant is required to have at least one owner as part of their contract. For a certain amount of time each week, typically eight to twelve hours unless they really want to be with the same owner over multiple days, the owner will be in control of the contestant and can do more or less anything they want with them, provided it is eventually reversed.”

“What?!” Taylor exclaimed angrily. “You sell us as slaves?”

“Not… quite,” Cindy tried to explain placatingly. “You get to select who you want to be your owners, and you’ll get a certain amount of credit towards your rewards, modifications, entertainment, and so on, based on who you select. Basically, the more humiliating or potentially shocking the choice, the more credits you receive.” She took a breath and continued, “I typically recommend getting a different owner for each day. It adds a bit of variety, and we allow them to coordinate schedules in case one of them wants to plan something special for a day they normally wouldn’t be in charge of the contestant. Occasionally, a single owner might schedule to have multiple contestants at once in something of a crossover event for the show. It’s not like we just put you up on a block and auction you off.” Under her breath, she added, “Unless you ask for it.”

“What was that last bit?” Taylor demanded.

“I doubt you’d be interested, but there is an option where, after five years, we auction a contestant off to the highest bidder,” Cindy explained. “It’s also part of the entire contract negotiation process, so it’s very hard to accidentally sign up for that. Usually it’s used as a stepping stone to giving yourself to the owner of your choice, so it’s only an issue if someone misses the second check box. Unless you decide to remain a contestant or to become a slave, it’s really more like indentured servitude than slavery. Even better, you know in advance how long your contract will last.”

“I’m still not happy with this,” Taylor grumbled.

“I don’t expect you to be. After all, you didn’t know what you were signing up for.”

“I hope I can control enough insects to cover that asshole in bees if I see him again,” Taylor muttered angrily.

“I hope so, too,” Cindy admitted. “And on that note, I have a proposition for you. I don’t want you to make a decision now, but keep it in mind.”

“What is it,” Taylor asked, glad for a change of topic to take her mind off the current one.

“What would you think of being a recruiter for Slut Life?” Cindy blurted out.

Taylor blinked. “What?” she asked. “No, really, what?”

“Now, it’s just an idea, but it would make it much more likely for you to run into Tricher again,” Cindy began a little nervously. “Basically, if you agree, once you’re back on your Earth Bet, you would keep an eye out for anyone who could benefit from the Slut Life experience and offer them a place as a contestant. It’d basically be your job to do what Tricher did for you, only do it properly.”

“It’d be pretty hard to do a worse job than him,” Taylor scoffed.

“True,” Cindy agreed ruefully. “If you were interested, or even if you’re considering it, we’d like you to take some legal classes. That way, you’d also be able to help them with filling out the contract as well. And, since you’d be out on the fringes, as it were, you could even go through the contract drafting process before getting them to sign up as a contestant.”

“I’ll think about it,” Taylor said flatly.

“It’d be a bit harder on you than the easiest contract I could write up, but we need more people who know what the stakes are and who want to do the right thing,” Cindy continued. “And, while I can’t say much, some of the benefits would give you a lot more control over your life than you’re likely to get elsewhere.”

“I said I’ll think about it,” Taylor repeated. “Now, I think you said something about things to do around here?”

“That’s all I ask,” Cindy acquiesced. “Follow me, and I’ll show you to the viewing window and the gym. Like I said, it’s fairly basic up here, but it’ll give you something to do.

“Sure, let me just my shoes on,” Taylor agreed, suiting action to words. “I’m set,” she added a moment later.

“Good. Now, follow me,” Cindy said, leading the younger girl toward the door.

---

There was a pounding on the door to Slut Life’s Owner Relations office. Molly, the current intern, opened the door and jumped back in shock. Standing in the doorway, panting heavily, was a large black man, with a scruffy beard and a large afro. “C-can I help you?” Molly asked cautiously.

“Tyrone wants to speak to the bastard in charge,” the man growled.

“C-certainly,” Molly agreed, backing further into the room. “Have a seat and I’ll go get him.”

“Tyrone thanks you,” the man, apparently named Tyrone, said, taking a seat in one of the waiting room chairs.

Molly made her way to her boss and said, “Mr. Reynolds, there’s a man calling himself Tyrone… in the third person… here to see you. He’s being rather insistent.”

Adrian Reynolds sighed as he stood. “I’ll talk to him,” he said, making his way to the door. “He must have heard about the new contestant. You just stay back here for the moment, alright?”

“Thank you, sir,” Molly replied, happy to stay away from the intimidating man.

“Don’t worry about it. Dealing with Tyrone is always trying,” Adrian said as he made his way back to the front room. “Good morning, Tyrone. How can I help you today?”

“Tyrone heard there’s a new bitch for the show,” Tyrone stated. “I want a chance to make her my bitch.”

Adrian sighed. “I know we’ve been over this before. Most people don’t want to be a prison bitch.” He held up a hand before Tyrone could complain. “Yes, I know, it’s great for ratings and you’ve had a number of people enjoy the position in the past. Still, it is not up to us what Miss Hebert will choose. You are, of course, on the list of options, as always.”

Tyrone wilted for a moment before standing straight again. “That is all Tyrone asks. If the bitch can’t appreciate Tyrone’s care, that is not Tyrone’s problem.” He turned and made his way toward the door. As he was stepping through, he turned back and said, “Please apologize for Tyrone. He did not mean to startle your intern.” He then made his way out of the office.

“One of these days I need to hire a Psychic,” Adrian muttered, shaking his head, “just so I can find out how much of that is an act and how much of it is real.”

---

Taylor looked around the small gym critically. While she didn’t exercise regularly, as evidenced by her small paunch, she still recognized most of the equipment around her. “This looks like a pretty nice set up,” she commented.

“It is,” Cindy agreed. “It’s a bit basic, but we managed to fit in most of the essentials. The pool uses one of those current generating pumps, so you can do distance swimming if you want. All of the weights have computer controlled robotic spotters for safety, and there’s a fairly basic AI programmed as a fitness coach if you’d like some guidance.”

“Thanks, Cindy,” Taylor said, looking down at her belly. “I could use the exercise, especially if I want to be a hero back home.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. If you need any swimwear, there should be some in the chest next to the pool,” Cindy began. “It’s also where you’ll find the towels. That said, feel free to swim in the nude. No one will mind.” With a jaunty wave, the redhead left, leaving Taylor blushing furiously in the gym.

---

“Cindy, good to see you again,” Bob Ross began cheerfully as his subordinate walked into his office. “How goes our newest recruit?”

Cindy plopped down in the offered seat and huffed out a breath. “I had to explain the Owner program to her,” she explained. “She took it about as well as one would expect for someone tricked into signing up.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Ross commented. “I take it your proposal is dead in the water?” he asked. “It’s a shame, we could use more conscientious recruiters. The ones we’ve been getting recently...”

“It’s not dead, yet,” Cindy cut in. “I explained things and left her to think it over. She seems fairly pragmatic, so I think she’ll come around to our point of view.”

“Hm, yes,” Ross mused. “The realization that being the regional rep would keep people like Tricher away could be a strong motivator. Any other thoughts?”

Cindy shrugged. “She wants to be a hero back on Earth Bet. Judging by our file on her world, they definitely could use a few more. She’s already in the gym, trying to get into shape. I didn’t have the heart to tell her we could get her into better shape with little effort.”

Ross nodded in agreement. “Not to mention that the sooner she starts new good habits, the easier it’ll be for her to continue them later.”

“That, too. I also think there’s a good chance that she’ll want to sign up to be a magical girl,” Cindy continued.

“I take it you’d like me to authorize the full catalog?” Ross asked drolly.

“If you could, Sir, it’d be a help. I don’t know what would fit her best, or what restrictions she’d be willing to work under. I get the feeling she’ll turn down most of the more… random… empowerment methods, and I’m not sure she’d appreciate what some of the others come with, but she deserves to choose herself, assuming she wants to sign up in the first place,” Cindy explained.

Ross was silent for a moment, flipping through Taylor Hebert’s folder. He then turned to his computer and put through a few data searches before dramatically paling. “I’m going to authorize whatever she can handle,” he decided shakily. “Just try to not give her anything too devastating. At least, not if you can’t get her to understand the different kinds of invasions we typically face.”

“I’ll make sure to explain it properly,” Cindy agreed.

“Good, see that you do,” Ross said. “Now, get out of here, it’s past quitting time for the day and I need to get a drink.” Cindy nodded and gathered her paperwork. As she was leaving, she heard her boss mutter, “God help any of those dumb bastards who try to invade us for real.”

Putting the comment out of mind, she made her way out of the building, off the clock but still thinking about which forms she should bring tomorrow, when she would finally be working on Taylor’s contract properly. She also needed to head to the pet store again. Taylor was handling things much better than she had expected, so she could skip a few orders of magnitude in her training. A large ant farm should suffice for the next stage, especially if she could convince the store to give her a queen. Oh, this would be so much fun!

 

Recruitment 1.3

---

Taylor was staring at the Earth revolving below her through the viewing window while she worked at having her crickets chirp at specific frequencies. She’d gotten them to manage an octave, barely, but she needed one more cricket if she wanted to try for a chromatic scale. Still, practicing having them play simple songs gave her something to do, and it was bound to be at least amusing later on when she started being a cape. She smiled in delight as what could only be an ant colony was wheeled toward her.

The colony had hundreds of workers and even a few queens! An individual ant couldn’t do terribly much, but, working together, ants could do so much more. And, she realized, her smile growing even wider, she could control all of them easily, including the queens. This definitely had potential. She could also tell there was a radio playing, but she couldn’t quite get what the music was supposed to be.

“Hello, Cindy,” she called, looking over as the redhead wheeled the cart into the room. “I see you got an ant colony. And the radio.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “But what kind of music is that?”

“Yeah,” Cindy replied, peeking around the large dirt-filled tank sitting on the cart. “The store I tried to go to only had ant farms with something like sixty workers at most. They wouldn’t give me a queen, either. I ended up having a friend help me dig up a colony and package it up for you. As for the music, it’s dubstep. ”

“Thanks,” Taylor replied. “I haven’t heard of that before. It’s definitely different. The ants don’t seem to be making anything more distracting for me, though I can feel all of them doing their things and can control them if I want.”

Cindy blinked. “If that’s the case, I’m not sure how much more we’ll be able to do for you here, besides bringing in more species. I definitely won’t be able to cart enough bugs in here to really push your limits with numbers.”

“Sounds good,” Taylor agreed. “Maybe I’ll have better luck seeing and hearing with a larger variety of bugs or something.” After a moment, she added, “And I could always have fliers ferry around the slower bugs for me, if I need to.”

“That could work,” Cindy said, “and I’ll look into getting you some beetles to play with for tomorrow. For now, we need to get started figuring out your contract. We’ll need a few weeks to set everything up and start advertisements, but it could take even longer than that, depending on your choices.” She paused for a moment before asking, “Are you up for getting started?”

Taylor sighed. There was really no point in putting it off. “Sure. Do you want to do it here or back in the main room?”

“Well,” Cindy temporized, “that depends. Do you want to use the television screen or sit next to me while we use my laptop?”

“The TV would be easier,” Taylor decided. “And we need to get the ants set up, unless you plan on leaving them on the cart?”

“That was actually the plan, yes,” Cindy admitted. “I’d rather not risk dropping over a hundred pounds of dirt and glass if I can help it. I can always use another cart tomorrow.”

“That works, I guess,” Taylor replied, grabbing the cart and beginning to push it down the hallway. Once she had it pushed into one of the corners of her room, she turned around. “So, got a HDMI cable or something for your laptop?”

“No need,” Cindy replied. “I can stream it directly to the TV instead.” It took a moment to set up, but soon Taylor was looking at an interactive list of options, with handy pictures to break up the monotony of the text and provide a bit of context for some of the odder ideas.

“So...” Taylor began, looking at the collection of options, “where should I start?”

“Well, since we don’t need to make selections in any given order, I’d suggest by choosing what you want to get out of the experience, starting with the main rewards and continuing on to any perks or modifications you may want, before figuring out how you’re going to pay for it all. Trying to keep everything balanced from the start will just frustrate you.”

“Makes sense,” Taylor agreed. “Before, though, what’s with the different difficulty levels it mentions at the top? And why is mine set on hard?”

“Ah, that,” Cindy sighed. “There’s a few different contracts we can use, and each has its own difficulty, which either gives an initial balance or deficit of credits to work with. I’m not sure why they bother showing the options, since the contestants don’t get to choose their own difficulty. The standard difficulty is Hard, which gives you an initial balance of zero credits to work with. The other options are reserved primarily for punishment shows, recurring contestants, or contestants who are only involved due to the primary contestant’s choices.”

Taylor made a face. “And of course, being screwed over by the recruiter isn’t a good reason for an easier contract.”

“Unfortunately,” Cindy agreed. “Though it’ll give you a bit more respect from any other contestants you need to work with, if they find out. Now, what do you want to get out of this, generally?”

“Tricher mentioned something about being able to go home to the same time I left,” Taylor said. “That’d be a good start.”

Cindy winced. “Damn it, Tricher,” she muttered, probably not for the last time. “I really don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but that’d be a really bad idea for you.”

“Why?” Taylor asked.

“That option is usually called New Game+, but they’re referring to it as ‘Was it all a dream?’” Cindy began. “While you’d keep all the changes we make to your body, you also won’t remember any of your time as a contestant. Which also means you’ll probably lose all the progress we’ve made with your bugs.” Under her breath, she added, "And they seem to have gotten rid of the enhanced version."

“That bastard,” Taylor growled over Cindy's quiet comment. “Having time to get used to my powers was one of the only things that kept me from telling him to go fuck himself.”

“It’s not all bad,” Cindy hastened to add. “We also give you three million dollars.”

“That would take care of the bills,” Taylor stated in shock.

“It would,” Cindy agreed. “However, there are other options that I think you might like better. For instance, we could make you your own planet, custom designed for your tastes. Again, not what I think you’d enjoy, but it’s a possibility.”

“So, what would you suggest?” Taylor asked.

“Since I’d like you to join up with the corporate side of Slut Life eventually, I’d really like you to stick around, which means I’d like you to get an apartment and decide to make it your new home,” the redhead began before hurrying on. “I think there’s a way we can get you to both go home and live here whenever you want, which would be perfect for working for us on your Earth.”

“And what’s that?” Taylor asked cautiously. Just because she was beginning to like Cindy didn’t mean she was going to pick her choice without considering it properly.

“Alright, first hear me out,” Cindy began. “There’s this secret society that pretty much controls the multiverse.” At Taylor’s look, she hastened to add, “Not on the individual level, of course, at least not in most cases, and they’ve only just started looking into your corner of it, but it’s there. It’s difficult, but, if you’re willing to put in the effort, we can get you in. That’ll also allow you to choose another two rewards. I’d choose both ‘Was it all a dream?’ and ‘A new home’, so that we have a reason to send you back, let you keep your memories, and give you a way to come back here. What do you say? Want to join the Illuminati?”

“The Illuminati?” Taylor asked incredulously. “Really?”

“Well, no, not really,” Cindy replied. “It’s not really called that, but it was a reference I was sure you’d get.”

Taylor thought about it for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I think I’d better sign up for that. Earth Bet needs all the help it can get, and I’m not sure I can trust a group of shadowy assholes to do the job right.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cindy cheered. “Now, the Secret Society Membership is expensive, but keeping the apartment gets you a few points, so you’re only 110 credits down. Yeah, it sounds like a lot, but it’s pretty easy to make up.”

“Is that a lot?” Taylor asked, having not had a chance to see what other things cost.

“It’s about what we charge for giving you a planet,” Cindy replied. “So, yeah, it’s quite a bit, though I’m pretty sure we grossly undercharge for those planets.”

---

Cutie Coordinator Delia Travieso stood at at front of the auditorium. Before her sat nearly two dozen girls, with another two dozen attending through vidscreens. “Welcome, ladies,” she began. “We’ve recently received word that there is a new Contestant currently being processed. As such, we’ll be narrowing our choices down for the Cutie Position. Keep in mind, her contract has not been finalized, or even finished with the initial selection process, so, even if you become our representative, you might not be selected.”

The girls watched on with varying levels of attention. The newer girls, those who hadn’t had a chance to be an owner before, paid rapt attention. Those who had been around the block a few times were goofing off some, having heard the same speech many times before. These meetings were usually fairly standard, where a little bit of information about the contestant would be shared, those who were no longer interested would leave, and then a lottery would choose between whoever was deemed suitable.

“Now, to start with, the new contestant has been the victim of a prolonged bullying campaign,” Delia continued. “So that we don’t inadvertently cause her any undue stress, I would like to ask that anyone with the names Emma, Madison, or Sophia leave.”

A number of heads snapped up at this. Things had to be bad to make that kind of request. The last time they had requested certain names be excluded, one of the girls had stayed, and had been murdered less than a month into the show. Leaving wasn’t mandatory, but it was damn well encouraged. Anyone who stayed after such a request would be placed under additional scrutiny to make sure nothing untoward happened. If a girl with a declined name thought she could help the contestant overcome her issues and the shrinks agreed, she might still be given the go-ahead. Of course, it was also a great way to get kicked from the Cutie program if they disagreed. Three vidscreens went dark and five girls stood before making their way out of the auditorium.

Delia waited for the room to settle down before continuing. “Next, I would like to ask anyone who is uncomfortable around insects, spiders, and other creepy crawlies to leave.”

One of the girls called back, “Miss Delia, why would we need to be worried about some bugs?”

Delia give a shaky smile and replied, “According to the preliminary information we’ve been given, there’s a good chance that being near her would be like being near an Emotional Magic Girl from the Obsession Pit. For those of you not fully up to date on the various kind of magical girls, I’ll put it this way. There’s a decent chance she will be able to control bugs.”

“Still, it’s just bugs,” the girl called back. “How bad could that be?”

“Have you ever seen the videos of Beelzajaab?” Delia asked, somewhat rhetorically.

“Isn’t that the planet with enough bugs to smother people?” another girl asked.

“Yes,” Delia confirmed. “It is.”

“And that’s a possibility with this one?” another girl asked.

“It is.”

“I’m out!” another girl declared, quickly making her way to the exit. View-screens were quickly turning off as more girls streamed out of the auditorium.

Finally, the room was still again, with Delia on the stage and one girl still at her place in the audience. Delia blinked in surprise. “Are you sure you still want to be here?” she asked.

The girl shrugged. “I don’t have any problems with bugs,” she replied. “Back when Dad was filming on Beelzajaab, I used to love watching them crawl across the mosquito netting when I couldn’t sleep. It was really soothing. I kind of miss it. Even with the nanobots, most of the bugs around here try to stay away from people.” She shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ manner.

“Ah, well, then,” Delia began, somewhat taken aback. Looking down at her tablet, she found the girl’s name and said, “If you’re sure you want to volunteer, Miss Platt, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about the drawing.”

---

Cindy looked at Taylor for a moment before continuing, “Anyway, let’s move on to any modifications you may want. Do you want to keep your current body, or would you like a new one?”

“What?” Taylor yelped. “What do you mean, do I want a new body?”

“Just that,” Cindy explained. “We can keep your current body, exactly how it is except for any other mods you decide on, or we can tweak it a bit more. Change your overall body shape, set your voice how you want, change your eye or hair color, things like that. It’s how I got my unnaturally red hair growing in.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “If there’s anything you don’t like about your body, I’d recommend taking the new body. It’s a bit of a misnomer. They only really replace your body if you want to make a lot of drastic changes. A number of minor touch ups would just involve sticking you in a tube for a while as a few things were tweaked. Anyway, the other reason to take it is that it provides twice the points as staying stock you.”

“Well… I do think my mouth is bit too wide, and I'm a bit too thin for my height,” Taylor began. She looked down at her meagre chest and added, “And I’d like to actually have boobs.”

“That’s easily fixed. We’ll sign you up for an athletic body, tweak the face a bit, add a cup size or two, and… want an apple butt?” Cindy asked, looking Taylor over.

“A what?”

“An apple butt. It’s a bit less extreme than a bubble butt, but it’s a bit more than you have now,” the redhead explained. “You could probably get one with enough squats, but if you’re going to be changing your body to begin with? Why not skip the work?”

“Sure, I guess,” Taylor replied, trying to look at her ass. “What else is there?”

“Well, the next part is also mandatory,” Cindy began. “What do you want your primary genitalia to be?”

“Can you repeat that?” Taylor asked, sure she had misheard something.

“Do you want to be sexless, or have a penis, infertile vagina, or fertile vagina? Remember, they’re not going to change back when you’re done with the show. Of course, anything other than keeping your vagina might make a real new body a necessity.”

Nope, Taylor had heard her right the first time. And, once again, the situation proved how weird her world was now. “I think I’ll keep my vagina how it is, thanks.”

“I’ll mark you down for a fertile vagina, alright?” Cindy asked. Taylor nodded in confirmation. “Right. Next question. Want any additional penises? They cost five credits each.”

“What? No!” Taylor exploded. “Why would I pay for that? No!”

“Alright,” Cindy continued agreeably. “I assume you also don’t want testicles?” At Taylor’s glare she moved on.

Over the next ten minutes, Taylor and Cindy made their way through the list of modifications. While some were obvious choices, such as the repairbots and enhanced immune system, a good number left Taylor wondering, “Why would people pay for most of these, anyways? I mean, I wouldn’t want some of them if you paid me for them!”

Cindy shrugged. “Some people are bigger perverts than you, and some like the idea of forgetting their pasts.” She looked over the sheet again and asked, “So, happy enough with your choices now? We can come back to it later if you want to or if we need to make things balance out.”

“It looks pretty good to me,” Taylor agreed. “So, what’s next?”

“Next up is housing,” Cindy said. “If you want to be at all comfortable, the only realistic options available on this contract are either the hotel room or the apartment, and, since you chose the new home option, you really only have the apartment as an option, though it’s ultimately a net gain in points unless you go completely silly on having tons of empty rooms.”

“I’m going to need a place to keep all my bugs, though,” Taylor pointed out.

“True,” Cindy agreed, “but a careful set up with enough shelves should be able to handle it.”

“Yeah,” Taylor protested, “but then I wouldn’t have any work space. I’m pretty sure I can get spiders to spin silk for clothing, and spider silk is supposed to be stronger than steel.”

“Fair point,” Cindy conceded. “You might want two rooms, then. I’d also recommend upgrading the bathrooms and bedrooms. It’ll make things much less cramped, and a hot bath can be heavenly, even when you don’t technically need to take one.”

“Sounds good to me,” Taylor said, selecting most of the room options. What did she need a bar for, anyway? “What’s next?”

“Choosing what your primary food will be,” Cindy stated, scrolling down the contract form. “I’ll be honest, most of the food choices are either really expensive or just not worth it. That said, bread and water is boring and we still haven’t managed to make MREs properly edible. Both are likely to end in constipation. Of course, you won’t actually get constipated any more, so that might not be as much of an issue. Personally, I suggest going with the baby food.”

“Really? Baby food?” Taylor asked incredulously.

“It’s nutritious and actually comes in a variety of flavors,” Cindy explained with a shrug. “It also gives you a few credits, which is always helpful. If we have enough left over, we can always look into getting you more spare rooms.”

Taylor made a face but relented, “At least it’s better than the left over option. That’s just disgusting.”

“There’s worse things,” Cindy said noncommittally. “Now, with that chosen, there’s a few things they can do with the food, such as weekly fast food runs to give you some extra variety, force feeding your meals for a few extra credits, getting a glass of semen with each meal, again for more credits, or having access to a drink bar and being able to drink anything you want, so long as it’s nonalcoholic.”

“Ooh, fast food sounds nice,” Taylor commented. “I’d probably miss not being able to go to Fugly Bob’s if all I’m eating is baby food all the time.”

“Personally, I think it’s a waste of credits, as it wipes out everything you got from eating the baby food in the first place,” Cindy replied, “but it’s really up to you.”

“And the drink machine. Definitely want that,” Taylor decided. “I like my sodas and tea.”

Cindy shook her head. “Again, it’s up to you, but I’d consider it a waste of credits, myself. Then again, I mostly drink water.” Shrugging, she said, “Come on, I think that’s enough for now. Want to go back to the observation room and watch the Earth while we eat some lunch?”

“Sounds good to me,” Taylor agreed, grabbing the food off of the cart and making her way out of the room.

---

“Greetings, Gentlemen,” the tuxedo clad announcer began from behind the podium. Before him were arrayed a number of tables, laden with hor d’oeuvres and fine wines. Each table had up to five men in fine suits sitting at them. “Today we are gathered to auction off the potential position of Gentleman Caller for the new contestant on Slut Life. As usual, we will begin with an initial round of bidding before adding more details as they are revealed.”

Across the room, the men turned towards the front, abandoning their side conversations to pay more attention to the auctioneer. While there was no guarantee of being selected as one of the contestant’s owners, it would be imperative to have the best chance possible if the contestant suited one’s tastes. After all, if selected as an owner, the prestige earned would be more than compensation for the cost of being put forward. Even if the girl ultimately decided to go with another owner or was on the show for just a short duration, being shown as a proper Gentleman across the universe would only grant more access to potential life partners.

“That said, bidding for the position of Gentleman for one Miss Taylor Hebert is open,” the auctioneer announced. “As usual, the opening bid is for one hundred dollars. Are there any takers?” One of the newer gentlemen, only at his second of such auctions, raised his hand. “Very good,” the auctioneer said, making a note on his sheet. There was always someone more interested in being seen as a Gentleman over ensuring a good match. The various auctioneers did so enjoy betting on who would make the first bid.

“Two hundred!” another of the gentlemen called. Ah, yes, now the bidding war could truly begin.

“Three,” the first man called.

“Five,” the second stated confidently.

Well, the first goalpost had been reached. It’d be interesting to see if this changed things any. “We’ll pause the bidding at five hundred dollars for the moment, as we’ve received some details.” Looking down at the sheet, the auctioneer read off the first line, summarizing and translating it as he went. “Miss Hebert has been the recipient of some rather shockingly uncouth behavior of the last few years. She is likely to be rather skittish. We will now continue the bidding.”

“Seven hundred,” one of the more experienced gentlemen called. He was a fairly decent fellow, with a habit of trying to nurse the injured back to health, both animal and people. All things considered, he would not be a bad choice… if he weren’t an arachnophobe. The auctioneer sighed. He’d need to time things just right. He liked that one, and didn’t want to traumatize the poor man.

“Nine hundred,” the second man called.

“Fifteen hundred,” called another man.

The auctioneer smiled to himself slightly. “And we’ll pause the bidding again, as I’ve just received some more information about Miss Hebert.” The man currently with the highest bid was one of the ones who would give the rest of the Gentlemen a bad name, if they weren’t so good at public relations and damage control. Skipping a few lines on his sheet, he continued “There are also indications that Miss Hebert can control a large number of arthropods. While similar, this is not entirely like the abilities of certain magical girls. Instead, the scientists believe she likely has full control of all arthropods in her range. They currently have her on the containment station in orbit around Earth, in part to prevent her from forming a swarm of biblical proportions.” He paused for a moment, smirking lightly at the number of dropped wine glasses. “Shall we continue the bidding, then?”

For a long moment, there was silence. As it stretched into a full minute, the auctioneer nodded, before resolutely saying, “Very well, then. If there are no further bids?” he asked leadingly, looking around the room. “Very well. Going once, going twice, sold. Mister Bartholomew Parrino will be the Gentleman representative for Miss Taylor Hebert, for the sum of fifteen hundred dollars. Thank you all for coming. You will be informed when the next auction will be held. Good night.” Collecting his papers, the auctioneer made his way out of the room. Hopefully, young Miss Taylor would not be selecting a Gentleman as one of her owners, but if she did, Bartholomew deserved whatever he got. So, all in all, it was a win-win situation, as far as he was concerned, unless the girl did something silly, like undergoing extreme mental modification or choosing to have a shock collar installed.