Waiting.

After sending some contact information to Robo-Slut corporation, you hang up. All that's left is the wait. Now, you know full well that it's not very likely that you'll be chosen, but feel that you couldn't pass up on this opportunity no matter how unlikely it is you'll be the subject. And besides, something about this makes you brim up with anticipation. The potential to try out a new harem, to make $10,000,000, it all fills you with excitement. The secrecy about it all worries you a little, but that worry is drowned out by your hormones and dreams of riches. Besides, it's not like you'd really be chosen, right?

Roughly 2 months later, you are coming home from work, having spent a wonderful day of answering calls from people who suffered under the heel of wretched bureaucracy that was modern insurance companies. Now, you were good at your job, efficient with few complaints, and it payed pretty well for being your stereotypical soul-crushing white-collar job. But that's just what it was, a job. It paid the bills and gave you some fun money, but not much else.

It seems the same with the rest of your life. You have a nice apartment, and are still on good terms with your family, even if slightly estranged. You have friends from work that you genuinely like and respected. You have very nice things, and even have the money saved up for a harem of robotic sex dolls at some point.

But you aren't content. Now, you knew you have no right to dissatisfied, considering the world you live in, but your life seems to lack a certain something, a spirit of energy that seemed to slowly drain away as you firmly cemented yourself in the rut. Everything seems superficial and stale, like you were going through the motions as they were demanded from you. You wanted something to put the spark back in your life, be it a new friend, a woman, a new job, something.

That's part of why you originally looked into getting a Robo-Slut. You had heard tales of them being so life-like, and fun beyond just the sex. You honestly hoped that if you got one or two, you could have a bit of that spirit again, if just for a little while. 'Boy that sounds pathetic when you think about it,' you thought.

You remember the experiment. You had slowly forgotten about that, putting it to the back of your mind as you went about living your life these past two months. You had lost your buzzing, childlike sense of anticipation, figuring that the chances of YOU, being chosen were nearly laughable. Still, the news of who would be the lucky test subject would be sent out soon, and you had been assured you would be informed as to who was chosen, even if you weren't.

Stalking in from your car, you wave to the doorman in the lobby, and march up to your apartment. 'Chinese tonight? Maybe Italian?' Opening the door, you flick on the lights. You hang up your coat, slide out of your boots, and head for the phone. There, you notice a missed call from Robo-Slut corporation.