Taking an Uber

For a moment, I stand on the sidewalk in front of the BoSS building, wondering what to do next. The apartment is too far away to walk, and I shudder to think of boarding a city bus in my state--assuming any nearby buses haven't been overrun by the marauding pleasure models already. As much as my meager checking account hates the thought, I'm going to have to order an Uber.

I bring up the app on my phone and choose the "Female Driver" option. Fortunately, one accepts--and only a few minutes away at that. Crouching down next to some bushes, I use the time to clean up my inner thighs with leaves, waiting until the black Nissan Rogue comes into view and stops on the street a couple dozen meters away. Seeing no one else around, I dash the distance and wrench open the rear passenger door.

"Lilah?" says the woman driving. She turns to look at me sliding onto the back seat. "What the hell?! You're not wearing anything!"

"I know," I say, bringing the seatbelt strap over my bare chest and buckling in. "I'll explain in a moment, but we have to go...now! And don't stop for anything, unless you want to end up like me!" This jolts her into action, and the SUV accelerates down the road.

When we reach the first intersection, a tan blur in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I turn my head to the right. It's another naked woman, slender, beautiful, black hair streaming behind her as she runs down the sidewalk towards us with cold determination--no doubt one of the pleasure models!

The drivers sees her, too. "Wha--?" she starts to say, but I interrupt.

"Go! Go! For fuck's sake, don't let her catch us!" Her foot mashes the accelerator and we run right through the red light, picking up speed. The pleasure model falls behind, fading into the distance.

"Okay, okay..." The driver takes several short, shallow breaths once we've travelled a few blocks and seem to be out of danger. "Now maybe you can tell me what the hell's going on?"

"The Bureau of Sexual Services. You know, the building where you picked me up? A bunch of the pleasure models they were keeping in inventory suddenly went haywire. I don't entirely understand why," I say, half-truthfully, "but they're running around tearing the clothes off anyone they encounter, then fucking them half to death."

"You don't say..." she murmurs skeptically.

"Why would I lie? Or if I were lying, surely I'd come up with a better story than that!"

"Hey, hey," she says. "I don't judge. I'll just get you where you want to go, and we can leave it at that."

"Fair enough," I respond, leaning back against the seat and closing my eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, we pull up in front of my apartment building. I thank the driver and give her a generous tip--probably more than my budget can bear, but she deserves it for dragging me out of the fire. Striding nonchalantly through the lobby and up the stairs to the third floor, I only encounter a couple of people who stop to gawk.

When I unlock the apartment door with the key from my purse and swing it open, I find I've interrupted something of a get-together. Both my roommates--Tracey and Amber--are sitting in the living room, along with Amber's boyfriend, Robbie, and our mutual friends, Derek and Cassidy, and another blonde girl I vaguely recall meeting sometime before, and a boy I don't recognize in the slightest. Every eye turns towards me.

"Lilah!" Amber exclaims. "Are you a public nudist now? Is that what they told you to do at BoSS?"

"Not exactly. It's a long story. Check out the news--maybe you'll see something about it." I walk towards the bedrooms. "I'm...going to bed now. Don't bother me unless the world's ending."