Home and Healthcare

My thoughts drift ever back to who will be there at home in the morning, who will be alone with me while mom works, and who won’t have anything better to do (as long as I make it good for her): Alice. She’s basically perfect already, but if I focused on making her mine… truly mine… these coming days, then I’ll have secured quite the catch even compared to the characters I happened upon here at the diner. There’s also still that possible turmoil in her, but… well, if the new sexuality and **** upgrades don’t fix that, then I don’t know what will.

But getting a tenth will still be a healthy stack of gems. I contemplate them again: the spooky, stacked nurse, the redhead author, and the discount prostitute. Maybe I’d come around to fetching them all again one day… but for now, the choice rests on one consideration:

How useful and reliable the 10th girl will be at night… and though my Girls arguably need no healthcare, having a nurse “on-call” has its obvious merits for myself. That her options get this wild this soon, and given her exotic appearance… well, what more do I need?

Then again… I don’t want to lose sight of any of these girls, do I…?

BELLE DAISY CORTEZ
Hotkey: Recall Custom Girl (15 miles) 1/day

DIWA JASMINE ALCANTARA
Hotkey: Summon Custom Girl

IVETTE SINCLAIR
Long-Term Care
Stress-Fucker

TOTAL COST: 32 gems. OK? Purchased!

COLLECTOR OF CUSTOM GIRLS
Customize at least ten different girls: COMPLETE. 15 GEMS AWARDED.
Customize at least twenty different girls: 12/20. 50-GEM AWARD.

DAILY BOUNTY
Acquire a new Custom Girl: COMPLETE. 10 GEMS AWARDED.

GEMS: 80/200

I watch as all three girls become… uncomfortable. My title’s “aura,” for lack of a better term, is apparently having its effect on them all, though the hooker seems more annoyed than anything else. Focusing again on my primary target:

IVETTE SINCLAIR
D-Cup Breasts
Night-Shift Tenure
Have You Tried Rutting?
Exposure Sensitivity
TOTAL COST: 75 gems. OK? Purchased!

With her features (and protections) firmly in place, the only thing left to do is approach my newest girl. The others would have to wait; without 50 gems, I couldn’t risk getting the author pregnant or catching something from the suspected hooker.

With my tenth girl firmly chosen, I make my approach. Her features become more apparent as I near: the bags under her eyes are a pale blue-gray against her alabaster cheeks, and no hints of blush, make-up, or even lip gloss seem to decorate her. She wears her color-drained features boldly and, as she adjusts to her newly upgraded chest, with less care for appearances than most of my girls. She's almost ghost-like, and in a world where succubi give me a reality-bending app, I have to wonder why I'd doubt for a second that vampires or zombies were real.

Approaching a stranger like her, mysterious and uninviting as she seems, would have been impossible for me before the app. But now...

“Hey,” I awkwardly greet as I sit at her booth.

Her body tenses and she sits upright as if ready to bolt away; I'm coming on too strong for a stranger in a diner.

“I’m designating myself as your long-term patient,” I quickly explain. “Sorry to bother you at your dinner… or lunch, or… whatever this is. Breakfast?” I ask half-jokingly, but glancing at the coffee mugs I'm going to guess breakfast.

“You’re… well, didn’t think I had a round to go before my second shift, sorry for not getting to you sooner.” There’s a trained routine of bedside manner there, but it is buried in exhaustion; her half-lidded eyes, the droop in her shoulders, and the tired voice all scream it at her latest burden: me. She has a moderate-pitched voice, almost androgynous in strong contrast to the new swelling in her chest. She shifts in obvious discomfort; no doubt her bra is killing her.

“It’s alright,” I assure her, “but could we go to your place for the check-up? I can’t have it happen here and my home needs peace and quiet right now.”

“My… my apartment is…” Her brow furrows. “I don’t really take patients there. I can treat you where... I find you, that's it.”

The app shapes her thoughts before my eyes, but unfortunately it also means she gets to literally interpret her newly accepted work schedule: she can treat me regardless of where I am, but apparently not wherever I want to go. “Well uh... I mean, I figure your apartment would be good since... you look like you could use some help… you know... relaxing?”

“I don’t... think I follow.” Her tone darkens slightly, and therein lies an unspoken clarification: she doesn't want to follow.

“Eh… I mean you look like you could use a good…” The words hesitate to leap out of my mouth; it dawns on me that she's only down for anything to relieve stress, so I don’t have any particular control over her. If it goes south...

“Oh, you mean… I get it.” My mood brightens as I figure she's ready to go... and that mood lasts for a very, very short period of time. In a swift change, even that tired bedside manner melts away... and a very cross, exhausted woman takes the gentle nurse's place. She half-sighs, half-groans in frustration as she mutters, “Another one, huh... Christ, after I just got past HR a day ago for the last time.”

“Oh, uh, maybe you have the wrong-”

“So what kind're you?” she tersely interrupts. “A perv for nurses, an albino fetishist, or just an asshole who hits on any woman who has to clean your bedpan?”

Wh.... What? I glance around, stunned; thankfully no one seemed to hear that over the rancorous laughing a few booths behind us, but more importantly-

“Can't even own up to it, huh?”

“Erm, well I just thought you... wanted it.” Smooth recovery, Dave.

“From a patient I was just assigned? By himself, no less. This isn't a club, asshole, this is work. You want a cheap date, you get yourself checked out as soon as you can. I haven't even seen your chart before, much less you, so- fucking Hell,” she mutters again, addressing the contents of the purse to her side, “med school didn't prepare me for everyone thinking staff was on-call to fuck like animals.”

I can barely follow her angry rant that only seems half-directed at me. “Wha… I-I don’t- no, I’m not... I mean, I'm your patient, but-” Wait, med school? Do nurses go to med school? “You're a nurse, right?”

“I'm your fu- alright, one step at a time. I'm Dr. Sinclair,” she whispers through grit teeth and a smile, “I'm one of the doctors taking care of you, buuuut, and this part's important,” she taunts with a fading smile, “I'm not on the menu of hospital food, I don't want to hear about what anime character I remind you of, and gentle handies do not constitute medical aid. Have I made myself Crystal Springs-water clear?”

“I... uh-”

“I'm not here to moisten your crotch. Better?” My attempts at recovery fall silent, which she takes as an invitation to continue, “So far the only thing that's probably wrong with you is your expectation of what healthcare insurance pays for- you do have insurance, right?”

“Eh, I mean yeah, through my mom-”

“Fantastic. Well I hope you have a pleasant stay in our... well, in or out of our hospital. In our care, I guess.” She slugs back the last of her coffee as I sit there, mouth agape. “God, this coffee is the worst…”

I finally sit up from where I had sunken into the booth. A glance around told me that now people were definitely listening. “I-I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“You came over here during my coffee break, so that's a fair assessment. Fuck!” I flinch along with the others who were leaning in to hear more of our drama. “I was about ready to quit this residency, too... but something about tonight just a minute ago made me think how much of a waste it'd be to quit now, got me thinking about the needy, the call to action, and all those wonderful... ugh, but then you show up. You better be dying, Mr. Whatever your name is.”

“David. David Haines.”

“Haines, like the underwear?”

“And David like the king, yeah.”

“Hardly.” Her vicious dressing down drains me of all the cocksure attitude I had coming over. I'm right back where I started with approaching beautiful strangers, and I'm left wondering which options I bought that made me think this would work. I hurry my phone out to check.

“Alright, I’ve got condoms and the woman's restroom is clean enough.” She stands from the booth, her tiny black purse in tow.

I nearly drop my phone anew. “W-What?”

“I’ll even check your vitals in there, knock two visits in one. But I’m not taking you home like a lost fetish puppy, got it? I'm working a double today and I'm not fucking happy about it... so you better last until I feel better.” She pauses before narrowing her eyes at me. “You don't have Hep, right?”

She leaves a credit card on the table as she waits for my reponse. “Hep? What's...?”

“Hepatitis, B or C in particular. I mean condoms are condoms, so... whatever, just keep your other holes and digits off of me until I finish. Well, until you finish.”

I look around as my face grows hot while the other women present stare. A stray giggle is heard from the trio of classmates. “N-No, I'm clean!” I loudly whisper.

“Then get up, I don't have all night.”