Work Text:
"Any questions before you begin?"
"Uh, no, thank you - your brochure was very detailed"
I tried my best not to think about how many times I'd read it, trying to figure out why I'd been sent such an odd joke. The woman across the low desk from me (a `Participant Orientation Engineer' named Sophie, according to her ID badge) nodded, and passed over the tablet on which she'd just double-checked my information.
"Congratulations! You are now a contestant on the popular television reality show "Slut Life."..."
Okay, here we go. No time left for cowardice. I knew the general categories of options, but this was the first chance I'd have to see the credit spread, to make sure I could do what I needed to.
A new body - half the point of doing this was to become someone new, and the best way seemed to be going as far from my current self as possible.
I went with a medium-small woman, long brown hair and blue eyes, slim waist and generous curves. For equipment, a (nonfertile, thank you) vagina and one pair of breasts.
Extreme masochism, an all-erogenous-zone body, and `cum connoisseur' - well, it's in the name of the show, right?
Now for the part where I wanted to hesitate. All four limbs, gone. Prosthetics for after the show, sure, but until then I'd be in a real bind. Arms above the elbow, legs just above the knee, so I'd at least be able to get around a bit on my own, but for everything else I'd be counting on the kindness of strangers. Well, roommates. And owners. Not going to think about that right now.
A few quality-of-life tweaks were pretty affordable after that - magic hair, menstruation control, perfect metabolism, optimized digestion, `always perky', no need for sleep, perfect homeostasis and cleanliness - life after this was going to be swell.
Fuckable nipples, no gag reflex, an open cervix, and flexible but tight holes - no use pretending that the viewers won't want to see me really use this new body.
And now for the real point: mind wipe. timeless body. infinite telomeres. repairbots. hyper-immune system. genetic cleansing. cybernetic organs and brain. A new identity, of course.
It's an open philosophical question if it'll still be me, but I'm going to do it.
Now for the amenities, going to see what I can do. A nice hotel room with all the trimmings and a personal chef (although I'm getting force-fed all my meals). No clothes (a ban on clothes, actually), but I'll be fine.
Neighbours - Marisa, Charlotte, Jenny and Martha.
Entertainment is next. A basic cell phone and education credits, should be enough for the time being. Looking at my credit balance, I'm wondering what I'll have to do to pay for all this.
Owners, twelve-hour days all `round. A `sharing is caring' psychic, an engineer domme, and a sadist domme as roommates. Two days a week for a casting call and two days a week as a public-use fixture.
Punishments - a yearly meet-n-greet raffle, viewer-controlled vibrator implants, piercings and a nanobot-installed fresh cherry. Weekly time in a water chamber and a duffel bag. A viewer-controlled shock collar.
I'm not sure a job's necessary, after all that.
A full decade on the show. Abuse, humiliation, pain and desecration. A body built and modified to mix pleasure and pain and keep on going.
And then, the end. A fresh, eternal body with all sorts of bonuses. Membership in the Secret Society, a spaceship, and - oh, almost forgot - my own private planet.
Whoever the woman coming out of this is, she's going to have a great time.