But even she has limits.

"Why don't I stick the girlfriend script in her and we can ask go out?" Brad asked. "Two hot girls is better than one, right?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Monica said politely. Brad did a double-take and she shrugged.

"She's not yours yet, genius. That means no taking her out in public," D explained. "Unless you wanna sign for her now you're stuck with me."

Brad sighed. "No, that's alright. Monica, why don't you clean up around here while we're out?"

Monica nodded and turned to go, but D caught her by the arm. "Not so fast. We don't need a classically trained dancer to vacuum." She quickly unbound the Monica, who collapsed in a heap on the floor.

"I don't really care what script is in her when she cleans," Brad said. "I assume they'll all do a good job with basic tasks."

D clapped him on the back and laughed. "Buddy, you just aren't thinking big enough! You can do whatever you want! Here, I'll pick for you."

D grabbed a script from the case and slipped it into Monica's mouth. With a few words Monica was on her feet again, now giggling and bouncing on her tiptoes.

"Hey guys! I'm Monica!" She looked down and gasped. "Whoa, I'm naked! Do you wanna fuck me?"

"What is this shit?" Brad said. "Is she like a bimbo or something?"

Monica scoffed. "Me? Why would you think I'm a bimbo?"

"She's your enthusiastic, completely loyal servant," D told him. "That dancer had the personality of a Roomba. This one will do whatever you want with a smile and look good doing it."

"Damn straight!" Monica said chipperly. She looked around the room thoughtfully. "Roomba, huh? I guess I'd better start cleaning!"

D had already slipped back into her sundress and was holding up Brad's keys. "Let's go," she said impatiently. "I'll drive."

Following Brad's instructions, D made her way to a nondescript sports bar in a nearby strip mall.

"I didn't know I got a self-driving car in the bargain," he joked. D laughed and jiggled her right breast, the nipple visibly hardening under the thin garment.

"Have you ever seen a self-driving car with tits like these?" she asked, and he admitted that he hadn't.

They pulled up to the bar and got out, D tossing the keys over the roof to Brad. As she walked in, she noticed an older man on the patio sizing her up. She stared back and he turned away and coughed.

"Brad, look! That old perv was staring at my boobs," she giggled under her breath. "I totally caught him!"

Brad shrugged. "I mean, they're practically falling out of your dress. Can you blame him?"

"Good point," she said. She approached the man, who studied his phone to avoid eye contact. Brad asked what she was doing in a panicked whisper but she ignored him to address the ogler.

"Hey, pal, sorry if I made you feel guilty about checking me out," she said. He began to stammer out a denial when she pulled down one of her dress straps, revealing a tantalizingly perky breast. "Hope this makes up for it."

The old man's mouth hung open and he stared at her tit that hung inches from his face. Brad quickly covered her back up and led her aside.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. "You can't just expose yourself to strangers! You could get arrested!"

"I'm helping you loosen up," she replied. "Why buy a Ferrari if you're not gonna show it off? Besides, I doubt he's gonna call the cops on me."

Before he could protest, D spun on her heels and, loudly announcing she was thirsty, entered the bar.