That was the intention, But...

The photographer's name turned out to be Laura, and she gave you something of a whirlwind tour. Her brunette hair in the pony-tail was let free at some point, you were admittedly too busy taking in the building to catch when exactly it happened. The New Life Fertility Clinic was three floors, the 1st contained the traditional clinic with a lab and several examination and "seeding" rooms. Apparently in this word just having sperm donors fuck potential mothers-to-be while they're strapped down with their feet in the stirrups was a normal thing. The back half of the first floor was the full gym, with a swimming pool / sauna / hot tub combo suite in the basement. You didn't get to see that, but you believe it.

The second and third floors both had about a dozen apartment units with a common "man cave" room at the back wall. Laura said that the second floor was all full but only about half of the third floor units were taken. They're putting you up on the third floor, which since you have no physical possessions in this world. You expected to just be able to slip into your room and get with Laura whose clearly putting off signals - but then you walk by the 3rd floor "Man Cave", and see well over a dozen men through the window, and when they see you they give a loud cheer and try to offer what appears to be beer through the glass.

It occurs to you that you've never even *seen* that many men in one place before in this world, and it catches your attention to say the least. One of them comes to the door, and invites you in.

"Hey, New Fish!"

Laura rolls her eyes, and smiles.

"Take your time, I'll be in the room waiting." she grins. You shrug and chuckle as you walk into the cave.

The first thought you have is that in your world this would make a pretty fantastic man cave as well. Leather seats around a big screen TV, a pool table, a stocked fridge, a poker table, even what seems to be a pinball machine or two in the corner that's currently not being touched. You're immediately approached by a "welcoming committee" of three other men, apparently picked for ethnic diversity by a committee. Whether it was their idea or the administrators of the building you have no idea but they do nail the greeting by handing you a beer before they say anything. Of course a closer look at the beer reveals that it's both Light and ****-Free, but it's cold and it tastes kind of close so you only complain with your eyes.

"Yeah, we know. Closest that they'll pay for." the big black guy explains with a low chuckle.

"I'm Moe, this is Larry, and the big guy is Curly Joe. Welcome to Pussy Central."

Alright, so they had the Three Stooges in this world. Good to know, looking at the TV reveals that they either don't have American Football or it's not nearly as popular - but it's been replaced by a sport that's a lot like Women's Volleyball but 10 on a side that's on the TV instead. Apparenltly "Larry" notices your eyes and he gives a smirk there too.

"Yeah, that's a favority. We do have a Men's Baseball Fantasy League going if you want in, Draft is next month."

More and more of the group's attention turns your way, and when there seems to be everyone "Moe" calls for a moment of silence with his hands and raises his glass.

"To our new Brother-In-Arms."

"Cheers!" the whole room calls out, and collectively everyone takes a long drink then gets back to what they were doing before to relax. This was a party after all, if a low key one. You are the guest of honor, but nobody really knows you.

"We heard about your situation, Joe. So all got together and put some things in your room. Some clothes, some milk crates you can use for funiture, I think Benny tossed in one of his old Franken-Laptops and a burner phone. Just something to help get you on your feet."

"Thank you, I don't know what to say."

"Oh, don't thank us yet. We haven't told you about The Grind. You gay or straight?" Moe chuckles.

"Straight, why?"

"Grind's a bit different if your gay. In your case it's pretty straightforward." Moe starts, handing over what looks like an email address.

"You have 24 hours to have sex with 6 women to completion, and you have to prove it by taking her picture and sending it to this web address. Number 6 has to be in the Hot Tub down in the basement. Timer starts when you leave the room."

6, in 24 hours? You noticed that chicks are a lot easier to pick up in this world so that part of the logistics might be doable - but 6? That seems like it's pushing the limits of biology.

"I thought the clinic picked our women?"

"They pick one of our women. For the rest all they can do is make suggestions."

"I've had sex twice since last night. Do they count?"

"Nope."

"I have a court hearing tomorrow afternoon, does that pause the timer?"

"Nope. But I'd get out there and start soon then, try to be done by then."

"What happens if I fail?"

"We make fun of you. Forever. Benny over there failed and we still call him Bitch Boy." Moe laughs, taking another drink. This sounded like a challenge. One you might be up to. And it doesn't sound like the consequences are too serious, just annoying if you fail. Might be worth a shot to get into society properly...