I put on the semi-transparent uniform that the boss gave me and was led into a room with a blindfold on. "Boss, can I take off the blindfold now?" The only response I got was the sound of a door closing. As soon as I took off the blindfold, I saw a thick hand reaching towards me. With a "rip," the last piece of cloth covering me was torn to shreds.
After changing into the costume for a themed role-play my boss gave me, I was blindfolded and led into a room.
"Boss, is it okay to remove the blindfold now?" I asked, and the only response I received was the sound of a door closing. As soon as I removed the blindfold, a large hand reached toward me.
With a ripping sound, the last shred of modesty I had was torn to pieces.
My name is Alan Moore, a freshman at Thaize Theatrical College. When I first enrolled, the school held a beauty contest, and I won first place thanks to my outstanding natural looks.
Since then, many small companies outside the school have approached me, inviting me to be a model. They claimed it would provide social experience and help me gain work experience, but when it came to discussing payment, it became clear they just wanted free labor.
I vented about this to my roommate, Madison Morley. After joining in my complaints, she suddenly remembered a part-time job posting she had seen a few days ago.
"A thousand dollars an hour?!" I looked at Madison in disbelief, wondering if I had misheard. But Madison looked at me with complete certainty.
"That's right, it's a thousand dollars an hour, and triple the pay for overtime. But their standards are too high; they didn't choose me," Madison said.
Madison's tone was a bit regretful. I admitted that anyone would be tempted by such an offer, especially with my looks, which might even land me a higher rate. So, I asked Madison for the contact information and planned to check it out the next day.
At five o'clock in the afternoon, I arrived at the interview location as directed by my boss. It was a script role-playing game shop and the exterior was impressively decorated.
"Are you Miss Moore?" someone asked me.
I looked up to see a man with half-framed glasses and acne scars walking toward me. I held back my discomfort and nodded.
"As expected of Thaize Theatrical College's freshman campus queen, you look even better than your photos. My name is Jaxton Harrison. You can call me Jaxton," Jaxton said.
Jaxton wrapped his arm around my waist and led me into the game shop. Whether it was my imagination or not, his hand seemed to linger on my waist, making me feel uneasy.
Through Jaxton's introduction, I understood the basic job details. He offered me a rate of fifteen hundred dollars per hour, and without hesitation, I signed the contract.
Little did I know that this contract would lead to unforeseen trouble.
As I was leaving the shop, I inadvertently glanced at a room in the corner and faintly heard the sound of a girl sobbing.
"What is that sound?" I asked Jaxton.
"Oh, Just non-player characters (NPCs), It's perfectly normal," Jaxton replied.
Jaxton's words dispelled my doubts, and I returned to the dormitory, excitedly sharing the news of my successful application with Madison.
"Alan, I'm so envious of you! You actually got the job. When you make it big, you can't forget about me!" Madison said, and her envious expression filled me with a sense of superiority.
"Don't worry, once I make some money, I'll treat you to a nice dinner," I replied.
Three days later, I officially started working at the script role-playing game shop. As I walked in, I saw that the photo I had sent to the Jaxton was printed and posted on the wall. Jaxton said that many regular customers had already booked me as soon as they saw my picture, and I felt a secret sense of pride.
"Come in," Jaxton said, leading me to the room in the corner.
As soon as I entered, my face flushed completely red. The room was filled with mannequin models, and the uniforms on them were even more revealing than those seen in provocative films.
"Pick one and change into it," Jaxton said and his words left me frozen in place.