by Alden Odessa
Listen to me. I’m fucking sick.
What’s wrong with me? I need to think. Cigarettes. Where is my Third Stringers? I scan the room and find them right where they should be, sitting on the nightstand. I grab them and head to the bathroom.
Six dollars. I have six dollars. That’s it. How the fuck is that going to work. I don’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. Tomorrow I will even have two more mouths to feed in Augustus and Beatrice. What the hell was I thinking there? Why was I hiring staff?
When I was younger, I used to bring home sick animals to my father. I would say: Dad, he’s sick, can we keep him? He never said no right away. Instead, he helped the animals that could get better get better, but mostly these were wild animals that had an instinct, an element that was bred into them. They were not domesticated animals I could just keep in my house. They needed to run free.
Why did I feel like I was trying to domesticate wild animals? More importantly, why did I care? Beatrice and Augustus were clearly stranded. They had no place to go and really no way to make money. I mean, if they were actually able to make any money down here then I guess that bodes well for me. I have an attractive group of girls I will hit the streets with.
Why do I feel wrong about this? This is quite literally the name of the game. I have to get these girls on the street and take over the town.
It seemed so impossible at the moment. I’m sitting here with eleven dollars in my pocket and not a fucking clue how to be a pimp.
This would end in disaster.
I sit on the toilet with the lid down and ash my dirt tasting Third Stringer in the sink. I try not to make too much of a mess. They did a hell of a job cleaning the place. Hence, I was sitting my naked ass on the seat.
I look at my harem tab, I now have experience with the new girls, so I would have the opportunity to see their rating.
BRIDGET
FACE: 8
BREASTS: 5
BUTT: 3
SEX: 5
STRENGTHS: Anal, Seduction, Pillow Talk, Oral
WEAKNESSES: Body
I think I would rate her a little higher, personally, in the breasts category just because they were so big. But they didn’t point up that’s for sure. The game was accurate on the face though. She was beautiful.
I think back to that first time I saw her. She looked like hell, and the lighting was terrible. I just couldn't believe the transformation from dirt and sperm covered, used and abused hooker, to coddled hooker. I wondered if I would find any more like these two on my travels down here.
Speaking of cleaning up well—
EMILY:
FACE: 7
BREASTS: 6
BUTT: 6
SEX: 6
STRENGTHS: Kinky/Dirty, Sensuality
WEAKNESSES: Oral
Kinky, that’s a new strength!
As I suspected, she was tops in my harem on a pure total score basis. Slightly ahead of Stephanie. I was stunned.
Once again, I remember back when I had first saw her. I thought they had been disgusting. I seriously wouldn’t touch them with Bogo’s dick. I guess then I would be over a foot away from them!
I laughed to myself.
Well played, inner monologue, well played.
Now, after a quick cleaning, some makeup and perfumes, I’m looking at solid mid-level talent here. I could get a lot of money for her in a better part of town. I’m trying to think back on what Ronette had rated, and I couldn’t remember. I didn’t think I would have to keep track of these sorts of things.
She probably had an overall score in the mid to high thirties, and I have three girls that rank twenty or higher. Emily is coming in at a twenty-five. This was all good news.
But back when I first met them, I would have thought they wouldn’t even break double digits. Never underestimate bathing I guess. That’s the lesson I will take from today.
I look at my stats before I leave the heads-up-display.
H: 65 $: 6 BR: 64 T: 71 DOM: 78 PRW: 86 ST: 8
I guess this was a good news/bad news situation. I had six dollars, that was the bad news, and that’s pretty bad. Other stats, however, had risen, which was good. My DOMINANCE and PROWESS being beneficiaries of last night's antics and it looks like I was, in fact, healing. My STRENGTH had risen and My HEALTH, so that was all good news.
I wasn’t sure how long it would take for my ribs to heal fully, but it didn’t seem like it would be a long process. The benefit of living inside a simulation. They already felt better, and it’s not like I had a restful night’s sleep on a luxury mattress. The healing was probably the best news of all.
I still wasn’t for sure what the PROWESS and DOMINANCE were doing for me, other than I had no problem bedding any of the women in my harem. They never questioned it. The only problem I had ever had was April, and now I can’t shake her from my dick if I tried.
I finish my cigarette and stand up to lift the lid to the toilet. I throw the smoke in it and close the lid. Since I’ve already harped on the cleanliness factor, I decided to go ahead and take a shower.
The water pressure in this place is a complete joke, and I can barely get the water to reach me standing directly underneath it. How Betty managed to get the girls clean is beyond me. There is a part of me (and I know which part) that wishes I had gone to wake up Emily and have her join me in the shower, but I needed to let the girls sleep. I would be asking a lot of them in the next few days and who knows how long it would be before they get another break.
Did they need breaks? As a game construct isn’t this their purpose? It would be like going up to a fisherman NPC in a village game and saying, “Hey, do you need a break from fishing?” This was their one job in all the game Hot House Harem Online; but in the world that is Canny Valley, their lives actually had meaning and purpose. They have shown the ability to be living, breathing creatures, and this changes how I view them. It has changed how I view gameplay in general.
What were the fisherman’s thoughts as he fished? When playing a game and you’re looking for any clues, you could just walk up and click on them and get a black box that said: “They sure are biting today.” Or something similar.
Every day I get a little closer to understanding the rules of this game, and every day I also get more questions. But they are reality questions, meaning what is the reality of this universe.
In my reality, I used to visit a forum that only comprised thoughts you would have in the shower. All the questions I had would fit in that forum.
When I get out of the shower, I grab a towel and dry off. I walk out into the main room, and all the girls are still asleep. I quietly put on my clothes, the same clothes I had been wearing the entire time I had been stuck here. Remarkably, they didn’t smell terrible, but I noticed a definite odor, which, in turn, answered an earlier question. I could smell bad. I perspired, and I was interacting with the more intricate details of the universe. My clothes kind of smelled like this place. This motel.
That wasn’t good.
So the environment affected me in a similar way that it would in my own reality, but it seemed to a lesser extent. Had of I worn the same clothes for a week in my world they would have stunk to high heavens. I know, I’ve tried it out. Working at home sometimes led to poor hygiene.
One of the top things on my list was getting new clothes, but right now I’m not even sure I could afford them.
I guess one benefit of my time here has been that I have probably spent as much time out of my clothes as I have in them!
I finish lacing up my dress shoes and walk to the front door and open it, quietly as to not wake the girls. I step out onto the sidewalk, under the dilapidated overhang above it. I walk out further, closer to the street and I can see the lights from the tallest building in South Light, The Thrill Seeker Casino. Was I ready for that? Should I do more boots on the ground research first or just throw myself into this new life of being a pimp?
I only had one night of whore selling and
, although starting strong, it ended badly. Me with a handful of broken bones and all of us with barely a nickel to our name. I looked to the sky and could tell by its coloring it was early morning. Probably about four or five a.m., Earth Standard Time. I was becoming like an old farmer, reading the sky to tell the time. Instead of wheat, I cultivated women.
It was time to harvest.
I looked at The Side Light’s office. Saw my friend with a predilection for redheads and decided to pay him a visit before getting on with the rest of my day.
15
Tit-for-tat
“Good morning, Ben,” I said, lighthearted and sounding as fancy-free as I could. Not like I actually was, and certainly not like I was relying on this little worm of a man for all of my current needs.
For free.
I don’t know how long he would accept Stephanie blow jobs as a suitable form of payment.
If cock sucking were currency, then my cup runneth over.
“Uh, good morning, uh Mr.—”
“Rockknocker. Buster Rockknocker,” I said with new-found confidence. A new day, a new outlook. Not really. But if these girls were going to believe in me, I had better start believing in myself. Even if it was in voice only.
“Yes, Mr. Rockknocker,” he said. He stammered, and I wasn’t sure why. He seemed nervous around me. It could be from many things. Maybe he was embarrassed about last night. I mean I had stood about three feet away from him as he got a puffer from some of my top talent. “I trust your stay was acceptable last night?”
“Yes, yes, it was. Thank you, Ben.”
I looked around the office; it was just as sparse today as it had been last night.
“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Rockknocker?”
“Coffee.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you happen to have any coffee here?” I had never been to a motel that didn’t have coffee. Even cheap ones had an off-brand Mr. Coffee around.
“I’m sorry sir, we do not.”
“Shame,” I said, and then looked at him, “we must work on that. Ben, can I ask you some questions?”
He got a little more nervous. I think this kid was just a bit shaky in general, but I couldn’t be sure. It could be that he got in trouble last night, or had to answer some uncomfortable questions about why he had rented out three rooms and received no tangible payment. “How can I help you, sir?”
“What kind of foot traffic do you receive around here?”
“You mean guests?”
“Yes,” I was getting the feeling I would have to explain myself a lot to Ben. That’s okay. I was starting to get used to it. “Say from South Light, do many of the gamblers over there make their way over here?”
“No sir, they seem to have plenty of casinos over there.”
“What about girls?”
“The girls that are here kind of just serve the regular clientele.”
“No,” as I thought. Speak slower, explain myself. “I mean, do you have a lot of men inquiring about girls, for the night?”
“Oh, not usually, but lately it has been a little busier, a few more tourists.”
And there it was. It’s possible my theory was true. This was a bargain basement spawning point for customers just starting in the game. Although I don’t think that this was a very good selling point for the game, but for people with not a lot of money to spend it could be a good entry point. Maybe that’s why South Light was so small. This served a smaller group of gamers. Someone just logging in for a quick BJ or some cheap drugs. Or maybe just someone wanting to play a couple of hands of blackjack.
Who knows? The possibilities are endless, but his answer begs more questions.
He specifically mentioned more tourists than usual, which means the game is picking up. More people are purchasing it, logging in, more players. This was good and bad. This meant time outside this place was moving on without me and also that new people were being exposed to this place and all of its wares.
The good news was that more people were playing. This meant more customers for me to service. Time was important in this scenario. I had to service these men before anyone else and get them accustomed to my prices and my quality. Also, The Lower Bottoms were a funnel, almost like a casino itself, they designed it to keep you in. I could barely even see out of it. I could see The Falls, it was hard to miss, but it looked like this was all that there was to the game. I certainly didn’t want people logging in and then logging back out if they couldn’t find what they wanted. I needed to make this place my own, at least for a little while. I would need as many girls as possible to service this place. To keep players playing in The Lower Bottoms.
I needed to find out where they were spawning at.
April had spawned in The Gallows. I was almost entirely sure she was not a gamer. I was still assuming she was an NPC and new NPC’s spawned in The Gallows which was just cruel. Again, I feel that she is a glitch of some sort and I may never know her full story. I find it hard to believe that an NPC would be spawned with no backstory or at least some sort of a purpose.
Contemplating where I had spawned, donating to the game at the highest level, I could base my theory on cheaper gamers spawning in a similar spot, just in a cheaper part of town. I had spawned in an alleyway, across the street for a row of casinos, fine markets, and The Reference. So using that as a basis, it would make sense that the first place they would see, coming out of whatever alley they spawned in, would be The Thrill Seeker. It was the nicest landmark in all of South Light.
The Lower Bottoms was not a huge place, so I wouldn’t have to cover too much ground. But it’s not something I could dedicate all of my time to; I still had to earn while I was doing this. There was only one of me, and I wouldn’t send out any of the girls on their own. Bogo had proven that he could take care of the girls but that last night at The Falls had shown me something else.
I couldn’t let my guard down. Not for a moment. This wasn’t just some fun-loving game I was playing. There were real consequences. Not just to me, but also the women. Bruce had cut up that girl from the bar, just for talking to me. This was no joke; this was no fun little playtime, this was real deal, die if I lose shit.
The Man in Blue had told me that if I die in the game, I die in real life, so this meant that I could die in the game. I doubt he said that for shits and giggles. This was all very real, and I had to remember that. I took a chance the other night and had let my guard down. The Man in Blue gave me a gun for a reason. I answered the door naked for crying out loud. What the fuck had I been thinking!?
Bogo was put in my path for a reason, and that reason was protection of not only the girls but also of me. I had to remember that. I had to treat this game as if I am playing the storyline mode, simply because that’s all I had to go on. The way to win the game was simple, and by playing the storyline, I had to assume that there was very little that had happened to me by chance.
Was it a coincidence that I found Bogo at the exact moment he was getting fired? What about the first three girls they brought back? That seemed a little coincidental. And what about Bridget and Emily? They just happened to be at the motel I was checking into. Weren’t they a little too appealing to be slumming it in The Lower Bottoms? Sure, they started unattractively, but after I spent my “points” to “upgrade” them, they turned into the lookers that they were. Same for the other three and even Betty for that matter. It was all just a little too convenient. To beat this game, I had to think like the game.
More importantly, I had to play the game. I had to use all the things that had been given to me, from money to locations to opportunity. Who knows what I had missed while wallowing in my self-pity about being stuck in a game? I had to keep my eyes open for new opportunities. This was all scripted, I was sure of it.
So what was the next objective?
I looked at Ben and realized that I had been standing there for a while and I couldn’t even remember the last thing I had said to him.
<
br /> Tourists! “These tourists, where do they come from?” I ask.
“South Light, mostly. Most of them lost their money at the Thrill Seeker and are looking for a cheap place to stay, or they picked up a girl.”
“Are there any good card games in The Landing?”
“We used to have one here, but they all moved on. I haven’t heard of any new ones, but if you go closer to the market, you might find one.”
“Noted, thank you,” I said, not really sure why I even asked about the card game, other than it could be a way to get customers. My mind was reeling with these little bits of information he was giving me. I knew I had to move fast. Every second I wasted was an opportunity I may be missing. But thinking like I was now. I had to make sure I had gotten all the information out of this encounter as I possibly could.
“Does the owner know about our little—arrangement?” I asked, regarding the fact that his sperm in my girl's throat acted as a form of interest in our current living situation.
“I am the owner,” he said.
“Good, so I can deal directly with you?”
“Yes.”
“Great,” I said, albeit a little surprised. “I will pay you, but I wonder if I could get a little tit-for-tat?”
“What does that mean?”
“Spread the word for me. Surely you know other men interested in some redheads. And just so you know, those two girls that were outside the office last night, they cleaned up real nice too. You like blondes?”
“Who doesn’t?"
“I got a new girl. Ask for Emily. I’m telling you, primo.” As much as I needed to get these girls working, I still wouldn’t mind having Emily to myself for a little while longer. Can’t think about that though, there will be more, better women in my future. Right now, I have to strengthen my relationship with Ben here so I can have an ongoing base of operations down here.