Chapter Five - Who you gonna call?

“Morning.”

“Morning!”

“You’re naked.”

My step faltered for a moment when I realised we had a guest sitting in the kitchen, eating breakfast next to Livia—who was, unlike me, fully clothed. Then I walked on and sat on the bar stool on Livia’s other side. I greeted her with a kiss before announcing my thoughts. “Gamma already has seen everything.” In a mock whisper, I added, “Including us getting it on yesterday.”

“True,” Gamma confirmed. “I monitored your sexual activities very closely to make sure all was well with your new body. I even had to make some modifications on the fly! Someone included a neck-biting reflex in your racial makeup. Not a good idea with those teeth…”

“TMI, Gamma,” Livia said, rolling her eyes. “Can we just pretend we met for the first time when you showed up in that body?”

Gamma looked a bit confused, so I added, “Just don’t talk about it. That’s pretend enough for us. Ok?”

“Ok,” Gamma confirmed. “Can we have sex now?”

“No,” Livia and I said in unison.

“Why?”

Livia looked at me, so I answered. “Gamma, when we accepted Sally’s proposal, that was for her mental health. I didn’t even expect anything would happen with Cindy but that you would get the Cindy NPC to pretend it had happened. That’s why I agreed to it without talking to Livia first. I’m not her pimp, after all—“

“That would be Silvie. She’s about twice your age, thrice your weight and four times as mean,” Livia added with a grin and put her arm around my shoulder.

“Right,” I said while trying to digest that. “In addition, I had a chance to think about that whole thing, and it is stupid.”

“In what way?” Gamma asked.

“First, why did you need us at all? Cindy is an NPC; she does whatever you want her to do. She’s all programming and parameters. Second, how does a mail-order sex date for her sister help Sally’s psyche anyway? No normal person would do that. At most, you’d arrange for her to meet someone you talked about it to upfront. But dropping her off with a random couple is just bonkers. And no matter how far gone Sally is into her ‘caring for a dead sister’ fantasy, she should realise that or be committed. If you really want to help her, make Cindy become more independent. Let her slowly find friends, maybe even a boyfriend. And in a couple of years, she can get married and move out. You’ve got a million and a half NPCs at your disposal, plenty to work with.”

“And,” Livia added, “are those really the ‘horrible scars’ Sally imagines? The one in your face makes you look cute, not disfigured…” That was laying it on a bit too much, I thought. Cute wasn’t the word I’d used for Cindy’s face, but Livia was right in one regard; it wasn’t horrible or disgusting.

“That is valuable insight. I have relayed your statements to Delta-4, who handles this case,” Gamma said in a way that resembled the AI text prompts she had given me yesterday.

🙚⚜🙘

After breakfast, Livia pulled me into our bedroom to “get me decent”. After a long kiss, she asked, “You kinda not answered that question?

“Which one?” I was slightly confused about what she meant.

“If we will be sleeping with Gamma. You only talked about Cindy.”

Oh, right, those were two different topics.

I sat down on our bed, pulling her down with me. I wanted to look her in the eyes for that, but I was a couple of inches taller. Standing next to each other, I only saw the top of her head.

“Livia,” I started, “we have been having an open relationship for six years. But that was mostly because we were in denial about having a relationship in the first place, wasn’t it?”

She nodded but said nothing.

“I know you got raised by people who never heard about jealousy, and for me, it always was a bit of a turn-on, but we need to set some rules there.”

“I’m with you. What do you propose?”

“Three rules: First, whatever we do for money is fair game. No say about it. It wouldn’t be fair; that’s your job, after all.”

“Agreed.”

“Second, when we’re apart for more than a couple of days, like we were when I was in London, we use our digression and tell the other one about it the next time we talk.” That was pretty much what we had done over the years.

“And send pictures if possible,” Livia added. Oh, those. I nodded. I could do that.

“Third, when we are together, nothing happens unless we both agree. No pressuring either. Full consent or nothing happens.”

Her answer was a deep kiss. Seems I had done something right. Now I just needed to remember that ring when I had my hands free…

🙚⚜🙘

Aside from Gamma barging in and watching for way longer than was polite, the next hour was pure bliss. Where the first evening had been rushed and driven by pent-up horniness, and yesterday’s session was all about exploring my new ‘real’ body, this was a session of love.

That made it even more jarring when, as we lay there enjoying the bliss and afterglow, Livia asked me the question I had been dreading. “What’s next?”

“First, we enjoy the weekend, then I need your help finding a job.”

“I can guide you to the nearest Maccies; they’re always hiring,” Livia teased.

“Oh, glorious dead-end career!” I intoned, trying to match their jingle, making Livia giggle like a little girl.

“So what ya’re looking for?” This was it. Here, I had to commit.

“Could you get me an interview with at your agency?”

“Livia suddenly sat up across my belly and pinned my shoulders down. “Who are you, and what have you done to the real Jane?” she demanded with a devious twinkle in her eyes.

“I didn’t expect that kind of Spanish inquisition.” The last part we said together.

“No, really, Jane. That’s the last thing I expected from you. Maybe not the very last, but close. So, spill that convoluted thought process of yours. You never do something on a whim.” Unlike her, whose life motto was “Let’s see what fun thing comes up”.

“Of course, I thought about it in length. But it boils down to one thing: Can I stand living off your whoring money when I’m too chicken to do it? And the answer is no.”

“You are serious about this.” That wasn’t a question. “Then, no. I can not get you into the agency. We don’t have entry-level positions. You need job experience.”

“Does this count?” I tickled her belly.

“Shush! No, not really. It’s all about customers. I can get you a spot at a private apartment—if you don’t mind it being completely illegal?”

I shrugged, which threw off Livia’s balance and made her come crashing down, smooching my face with her considerable upper body padding. Before I could enjoy it too much, she rolled off.

“Yes, that’d be great.” This only deprived me even more of Livia’s beauties as she turned towards the nightstand to grab her phone. On the other hand, her backside was nice, too. How came I could go months without even thinking about sex, then become horny as a schoolboy when with her? Note to self: Grab those thicker panty liners at the store so I can go out with my fiancée without showing the whole world how much I love her.

“I texted Alessandra about you. And asked her out for dinner.”

“That’s Lessie? The one you worked with back when?”

“Yes. She upgraded to apartment work after she got her residency. We’ve been keeping in contact ever since. She’s one of the good ones, in it to send money to her family, not for drugs.”

“Most of the foreign ones are, I guess. The UK’s slogan isn’t exactly ‘Come here to get better access to drugs’.”

“Nope, it’s more like “stay off our bloody island!’” Livia said with a pained grin.

“This will change with the system, I think. Governments won’t be able to keep borders up if things go as I suspect.”

“How so?”

“Think about what sharding means. There are 314 slightly different versions of Liverpool right now. Each one with a port and an international airport. One of them has magic; others will soon follow with vampires and super-spy-tech. And from each of those, you can drive to Manchester, Stoke-on-Trent, or anywhere else on the isle. Those places have a different amount of Shards, so where do you end up in? And how would London keep control of it all? They are sharded there, too. There are probably thousands of shards, each with its own copy of the parliament and their own prime minister.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Differences will mount up, and in short order, there will be different laws made by those different parliaments.”

“Exactly. Just imagine what happens when vampire-Liverpool sends a vampire’s puppet MP to London instead of whoever vanilla-Liverpools elect…”

“Scary.”

“Unpredictable.”

“Dangerous.”

“Adventure.”

“Death.”

“To our enemies!”

We laughed. Gallows humour, probably.

🙚⚜🙘

“It is not about the ingredients. This spice mix is 800 pounds a pound, but it is not what makes or breaks the dish. What does that is how you prepare it and how you balance the flavours,” Livia lectured Gamma in the kitchen while I was studying a “whore lingo 101” website she had pulled up for me on her computer.

My head would have been red as a tomato had I not dropped the glamour on Livia’s suggestion to familiarise myself with doing stuff in my new form. The page didn’t just explain the terms, it explained in great detail how to do what those terms meant. Some entries even had photos, not just of the genitals, but also of the girl’s faces, to teach one how to fake enjoying it. There was a reason this was a password-protected site that pretended to host knitting patterns.

Sure, it had those, too. But only as long as you didn’t log in. Some of them even looked interesting. I had loved knitting at school, but we didn’t have the free cash for me to indulge in it as a hobby. I may pick it up again. That scarf with a pattern of flowers that resembled Livia’s vulva looked cool. Precisely the type of ‘once you see it, you can never unsee it’ not-actually-dirty stuff I liked.

Then the computer pinged, and a notification popped up in the corner of the screen. I read it before realising it was a text Livia had just gotten.

📱 “Would 😍 2. Pick u up at 6 🍲+🍷? No 🍆 bc 🔻🩲. Englsh 👧🏻 u say? That $$$$”

It went away before I could puzzle out more than that she would drop by at 6. Honestly, you’d have to be born with a phone tucked to your face to be able to read that.

Livia obviously had been, as she shouted through the open door a moment later. “Lessie will come by at six to take us to dinner, so be ready then. Rule three can rest easily today; she’s on her period, in case you’re wondering.”

How did she read that from the salad of symbols? “You’ve been banging her, too?” I asked back.

“Charity work,” she replied at a volume that made me concerned about the neighbours listening in. “She can’t find a boyfriend who’s okay with her job and gets frustrated.”

I walked to the doorway to avoid shouting. “I guess customers aren't doing it for her?”

“Uh? In what world have you been living? They never do. Hadn’t had one who made me enjoy it that way in seven years. Although some agency jobs do come pretty close…”

“Sexual stimulation over a longer period of time is more effective. Your escort jobs typically span the whole evening, not just the act itself, so it is quite natural you’d be able to experience enjoyment,” Gamma barged in.

We both looked at her, not sure what to say after such an AI statement. “We need to get you among people,” I finally said to resolve the moment.

“What? Isn’t it true what I stated?”

“It is. But it also is obvious to all of us without saying and not something you say out loud in such an analytical way unless you’re a shrink.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” Gamma said thoughtfully.

“While you’re already here, grab a bowl. Lunch’s ready.”

“What are we having?”

“A quick bean stew with bacon bits and homemade croutons,” Livia said as she ladled me up. “I know, it’s close to those 50-pence meals you’ve been living on, but I promise it tastes way better.”

It certainly smelled better. That wasn’t hard, as cheap breakfast beans in tomato sauce with some salt and pepper to make them palatable didn’t have much of a smell at all. Yet they were cheap, and cheap was what I had needed. Yet there was something about beans…got it.

“Beans? You’ll fart all night!” Livia was one of those people who only had to lick a bean to make music for days.

“You said you don’t mind that, remember? And I have no booking for the weekend, so I can indulge for a change.”

Huh, I had said that a couple of years back. Meant it, too. Learned the hard way that my face was way too close to the source way too often. Never had the heart to admit that.

“Sure, I don’t, but Alessandra? Tonight?”

“Gets off on it.”

“You’re pulling my leg. Please say you’re pulling my leg!”

“I am. But no, I didn’t think about that when grabbing the beans. Let’s hope she takes us to a loud place then. I will eat this, no matter what.”

“It’s your reputation. Or what’s left of it.” I grinned widely for the last part, lest it hit home. I didn’t think Livia cared about her reputation, but she had ruined it with both hands over the years. “Always high party girl whore” summed it up pretty well for most people who knew her.

“With that ring on my finger,” she held up her still ringless hand in demonstration, “there’s nothing left to ruin.” Tonight, Livia, tonight. I promise.