But first Anna, Dot, and an interlude with the new and old sex toys

A simple matter of human engineering.

When you and Dot made it home, your Pleasure Box shipment had arrived. You had ordered a new vibrating dildo with the same model number as the one that you had been lending to Dot for her sexual satisfaction. You would be back to two vibrators, no waiting, just as it had been before Dot had burned hers out.

You hadn't seen it, but you are pretty sure it had been some no-name toy without a serial number or even a model number. Like athletic shoes. Worse, really. You could never get the same ones twice running, and they wore out so quickly. You had finally found a company that made the same model year after year, and you were satisfied.

For shoes, anyway.

You and Dot had the old one and the new one side by side on the table, washed and dried and set up with fresh batteries.

"What do you think?" you ask Dot. "New one or old one?"

They look a little bit different, other than one being your year-old sex toy and the other being fresh from the box, virgin and unused. The vibration sound is a little different, and the new one seems to have a pulse mode.

"It's throbbing?" Dot says. She touches the new sex toy tentatively with her fingertips. "Weird. The old one doesn't do that."

"You can make it like the old one. The old one is off, slow, fast. The new one is off, slow, pulse, fast. See? So just click all the way through, and back two for slow." You frown. "But if it does something different, they should have given it a new model number."

"Yah, my sorority house mother, back, well, Cheyenne, she uses those coil vibrators?" Dot says. "And they call them all the same thing, but she says that past about nineteen eighty, it's a crapshoot whether the thing is any good. They sold the trademark and it's kinda like sewing machines? If you can get an all metal one, it'll last decades, but the hell if you even know even after you get it home."

You're not sure whether Dot's house mother is named Cheyenne or whether that's where her college is, but the rest of it makes sense. Dot may front as a giggly friend-girl, but she cares about things that matter. Does a name mean quality, or does a name mean style? The fact that you can't count on it is like sand between your toes.

You nod in agreement. "Yes. It's good to know your equipment," you say. "You should keep them both until you know which one you like. Almost any one works for me. It just has to go inside, and it has to vibrate."

Dot nods. "Shake," she says, offering her hand. You clasp her warm palm in your cool one. "You're a real sweetheart, Anna."

You feel a moment of dizziness. "Really?" you say. Nobody calls you a sweetheart except diner waitresses.

"Yah. I heard you were like some kinda android ice bitch, but you're totally a sweetheart," Dot says, holding your hand and squeezing it. "You wouldn't rest until I was happy."

"We're roommates," you say. "Of course I want you to be happy. Why did you have that crap vibrator to begin with?"

"I have one I like, but I left it back home because I was too bashful to take it on the airplane," Dot says. "It's bad enough the sky cops can flash your panties, but they always search my purse and I wasn't gonna have them pull that out at security. Or if I checked it and they put in one of those cards that say they opened your suitcase? It just weirds me out that they could have been waving my dildo around. So I got one for cash, um, actually in the airport when I arrived? And that's what they had."

"So that's why it only lasted two weeks," you say.

You wonder if Dot will be okay with Medical Imaging if airline security makes her tweaky like this. Show and tell with pee cups was fine, but nobody was taking pictures, and nothing was happening behind anyone's back today. Kelly seemed uncomfortable with Pathology. Maybe she'd be up to switch.

"Yup," Dot says. "Next time I'll just think of you, and say 'Anna doesn't give a darn, why should I?' and just pack one I like."

"That's sweet," you tell Dot, the compliment rolling off your tongue too easily for such a rare utterance. You squirm, swallow, and recover your composure. There was a blush coming to light up your face bright red. It goes away. You feel cool again. "I approve."

Dot grins and laughs. "I'd kiss you but I think you'd blow a fuse. And it's bedtime. G'night!"

You nod. "Good night, Dot."

When you were younger, you used to blush like a traffic light. It stopped sometime in high school, when you learned to put on an icy mask and cultivate a withering stare. You had shrunk more than one obnoxious erect penis down to a little head atop a pair of balls.

Boys were okay for sex, but they were a hopeless mess between the ears, and didn't respect boundaries. You don't think they even understand boundaries. You had fantasized about getting back at them by sneaking into their bedrooms, tying them up, riding them to climax and ghosting out the window, leaving them in the wet spot. Instead of becoming a sex pest supervillain, you had pretty much settled for girls as sex pals. They understood yes and no and I want and I don't want. And that was what you wanted.

You were afraid of Dot. She might make you blush again. Better to keep her happy. And maybe you should switch with Kelly for this trainee. Everyone would be happier.

You tap out a text to Kelly, offering to switch if she didn't like Pathology.

It was a simple matter of human engineering.

You have 0 XP, +1 Hard, -1 Hot, -1 Cool, +2 Control, and know the CHARACTER MOVES Ass-Licking and Masturbate.

Roll +COOL(-1) to STALK out a sex connection: 9 - 1 = 8. On a 7-9, you have a chance with Jennifer, but she's in public or there's trouble in the way.