This program...

You can’t help it. You get sucked into Annette’s game of putting digital dicks on everyone. You do that busty, brunette coach, Tiff. And then the cute, Swedish player. Then Angela, blonde FUTA doctor.

“She’s always so put together and everything,” Annette says drunkenly. “Can’t you just picture her fucking someone’s brains out? Just losing it and pounding them?”

You never pictured that before, but you’re **** to now.

Finally, Annette settles down a bit and pours more wine.

“That’s, uh, a hell of a program,” you tell her. You still aren’t sure what the point of it is.

“Who do you think would be best?” she asks you, sipping.

You think that you understand the question. Annette wants to flash girls with dicks as FUTA’s advertising.

“You mean anyone,” you say, glancing at the screen. “Not just the girls that actually have one?”

“Right.”

“Ingrid. Elena. Duni.” Those names spring to mind. Ingrid is the prettiest girl in FUTA. Elena is the one who is a literal muscle goddess who towers over other girls and makes them wet. Duni is a blend of the two: a tremendous athlete who is also very pretty and girly. You know everyone. Any of those three would be amazing for marketing, although there’s nothing wrong with the girls that Annette has now: Riley and Adella.

“Were you serious about the marketing job thing?” you ask her bluntly.

Annette sighs. “I wish that I was. Are you wanting to make a change?”

“I just need more money,” you tell her honestly. “I have student loans and stuff.”

Annette nods, looking understand. “I’m sorry, Lisa. I just did the budget. You had a raise.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“I can’t do another one at this point. And I don’t have any openings like that,” Annette goes on, absently closing the program on the computer. “But I do know of a way to make a quick buck if that’s what you’re interested in.”

“Photography work?” you ask hopefully.

“Um, no.” Annette gives you a look. “No. It would be a **** thing. Like a clinical trial?”

“Oh.” That’s not what you expected.

She looks at you appraisingly. “I mean, I wasn’t planning to tell you about that. But… now that I think about it, I don’t see why you couldn’t. The money is good.”

“What kind of **** is it?”

“Um, a performance enhancer.”

“Oh…” You’re starting to get it. Well, it’s not like you didn’t know that FUTA was skeevy.

“So are you interested?” she asks.

Are you?

Yes or no?

You choose yes.