AMB3R is an avatar living in the virtual world Serenity. She is a virtual being. Therefore, she does not actually exist.
AMB3R is employed as an escort in Serenity. She sells her virtual body for the virtual money she uses to pay the rent on her virtual apartment, buy her virtual clothes, and do virtual activities. AMB3R is one of few Serenity residents to actually have employment. Most acquire their virtual money through a currency exchange; there are a few out there who are content with Serenity’s free content to not want money. And since residents of Serenity did not need to eat, sleep, bathe, etc. AMB3R has little use for having an apartment. But she did find some pride in having a place to call her home, and that was worth the bi-weekly rent.
The world of Serenity was comprised of hundreds of places called sites. The creators of Serenity owned eight, known as “default sites” since newcomer residents first arrive in one of these eight. The rest of the hundreds were owned by residents themselves. It was a hefty sum of money to own a site, and so much more to make that site actually look decent. AMB3R’s apartment as well as her employment’s headquarters was in one of the most popular resident-owned site, Josh’s City. Named after the resident in charge, it was designed to resemble New York City, with various other places contributing inspiration. Other residents paid him to open stores, run dance clubs and casinos, open up apartment buildings (like the one AMB3R lives in), and whatever their imagination desired.
AMB3R very rarely would leave Josh’s City. To visit another site, she would have to get to a transporter, a craft resembling a sci-fi shuttlecraft. It would get residents to their destination with haste, leaving them more time for their activities. It cost money to use, the amount varying on the destination. Money wasn’t the issue, why she wouldn’t leave much. AMB3R had been to other sites, concluded that there was nothing to entertain her, and then never return. There weren’t many sites she would travel to. Aside from the default sites she’d go to for one reason or another, there was a waterpark/ beach site enjoyed spending afternoons, a site that was one giant shopping mall was where she’d do a good bit of her wardrobe shopping, and a site her employer, a resident named Frayle Platterson, called home; AMB3R only went here when Frayle had a party.
Josh’s City was more than stocked to keep AMB3R entertained when she wasn’t working. There were dozens of clothing stores, gaming areas, bars, dance clubs, and so on; there’s a reason why it’s one of the most popular sites. Thusly, it seems like the perfect place to run an escort business; especially since it can’t be done on the default sites. More often than not, business is excellent, each night bringing in profit after cutting out expenses.
AMB3R is one of 25 other girls working for Frayle’s Girls & Escorts, with Frayle keeping everything organized. She was the only escort with light complexion and copper hair, with some freckles in there too; most girls didn’t stray from the blonde and tan look, but a few shared AMB3R’s complexion or hair color, just not both. Each night, around what Frayle calls “high tide” (when residents of Serenity are active the most), there are at least fifteen girls on call at the headquarters. They make a fair base salary plus their cut of whatever the client has paid them for. Any of the girls could come in at points when they weren’t penciled in to be working, but they wouldn’t make their base salary and would receive less of what their cut would be. AMB3R would do this every now and again for a variety of reasons.
AMB3R would start her shift in less than an hour. Her apartment wasn’t very far from the headquarters. There was no call for haste, and therefore she showed none. AMB3R strolled out of her apartment, down the stairs, and onto the virtual streets of Josh’s City. She could’ve just so easily have leapt off the balcony and sustain no damage to her virtual body but, as had already been established, she was in no hurry.
Because of her lack of haste, AMB3R allowed herself to get distracted by some displays on store windows. She even wound up browsing through a virtual shop at some point, but didn’t buy anything in the end. A stranger walked up to her and started to flirt with her shortly after she left the store. She paid him some respect and had a small conversation with him before saying she had to be off to work. Even with those two delays, AMB3R arrived for her shift with plenty of time to spare.
The Frayle’s Girls & Escorts building decorated like an extravagant lobby. Behind the lobby was a changing room for escorts to privately dress themselves for their job, as well as 15 rooms for “business to be done”. Hanging from the ceiling were cages where AMB3R and the other escorts would wait for customers. Customers could choose which escort they’d like or opt for a random selection, in which case a raffle will select one of the girls on call. The customer generally has the choice over all things like outfits, positions, certain talking rules, and so on. Additionally, customers can also call in for an escort to come to them, for additional fees. They make the transaction up front to avoid anyone running out after the deed is done; customers can also opt out at any point, their money being refunded minus for what had already been done.
AMB3R clocked in, her name now in the raffle. In the changing room, she dressed herself in the skimpy lingerie outfit escorts wore while waiting in the cages. She usually ended up in one of the middle cages, halfway between the front entrance and the main desk. Today, she was closer to the entrance. Most of the other girls working this shift had either already reported in or have just now done so. In the cages, AMB3R and the other girls posed while they waited to be called upon. Whenever a customer seemed to not know which girl he/she wanted, the girls heckled them with “Pick Me!”, “You Know You Want Me!”, or “I Love You!”. It was all in good fun.
Everything appeared to go as it normally would. Business was on par with the usual productive days. The clients were straightforward; nobody today seemed to be trying to bend the rules of the transaction (unintentionally or not). Most customers today were able to select which girl they wanted. Either they were returning customers or they saw someone they liked. Everything was going smoothly.
AMB3R had to wait until about halfway through her shift to see her first action. She was the lucky winner of the raffle for an undecided client. The man had medium complexion and short blonde hair. He clearly didn’t seem like someone who spent a whole lot of time and money on his virtual appearance. This made AMB3R wonder just who he was and what kind of business she was going to get into.
Frayle gave AMB3R the details of the transaction. The man made the standard transaction, no special requests or anything. AMB3R led the man to one of the rooms in the back. It was a small room, dimly lit, furnished only by a "sex-bed", and with mood-setting music playing in the background. Once they both were inside, she locked the door so no one else tried to get in.
“You seem like a nice kid,” AMB3R said once the door shut. She always tried to be conversational to her clients. They can go many places for escorts; they came to Frayle’s Girls & Escorts for a reason. “How did you hear about us?”
The man said nothing. His virtual body was practically motionless.
“Right, we’ll just go straight to business. Do you have a position in mind?”
Again the man said nothing. Just as AMB3R was about to speak, a white bubble appeared above his head with the word “sex” written inside.
“You would be a chatterbox,” AMB3R cursed under her breath.
A chatterbox was the somewhat ironic street term for someone who didn’t speak with a voice, but communicated through bubbles floating over their heads with their message in them; being that these bubbles were called chat boxes made the term chatterbox less ironic. Chatterboxes were stereotyped for being immature and unsocial. AMB3R had no impression thus far that this man would be any different.
As mentioned before, the customer gets the say over everything that happens between them and the escort. When AMB3R asked what position he wanted, she was acting by protocol and not by manners. Of course, the man’s blunt answer of “sex” allowed AMB3R to choose the position for them. She might’ve normally asked a second time just to be safe, but she had a disliking for chatterboxes. The predetermined stereotype almost always came through; immaturity and escorts usually didn’t go hand in hand.
AMB3R set the bed to one of the more basic sex animations; no need to crack out the heavy artillery for this guy. Two small balls appeared hovering just above the bed, one pink and the other blue. AMB3R fused with the pink one, hoping the man would figure out what he needed to do. Thankfully, that didn’t take long.
The animation balls did all the work. All of it. It took the liberty of removing articles of clothing that stood in the way of their pleasure making, or in some cases all of their clothes. The balls handled all their movement, determined how long he’d last, even both of their facial expressions. AMB3R was scripted to enjoy the sex. The animation balls would have it no other way. Her true feelings about the sex would never appear during intercourse.
“That’s that,” AMB3R said once the intercourse ended. “Thank you for the business.”
She led him back into the lobby. He showed himself out the entrance as a few other escorted heckled from their cages.
“You got lucky with AMB3R!”
“Come back for me, hot stuff!”
That was AMB3R’s only patron of her shift. Business was still going well; the other girls were just seeing a bulk of that action as opposed to AMB3R. She had never had a busy night, one where she’d have a patron right after she finished business with another. The most she ever had during a typical eight hour shift was four, each client spread out to give her time in between.
The chatterbox sullied AMB3R’s mood. She disliked business with their kind given the stereotypes people had of them. In the past, business with chatterboxes usually left AMB3R feeling guilty or dirty. It was like something about was wrong.
She was hoping to have at least one more customer, just wanting something to forget the chatterbox. As her shift winded down, AMB3R became less and less hopeful of that. Regulars were more inclined to choose a personal favorite of theirs; AMB3R had no one who only preferred working with her. Having already won the raffle, she felt as though she were less likely to have her name come up again, even though she had just as much of a chance as the other girls. During the final hour of her shift, she let her focus shift mainly onto leaving, not even bothering to jeer a potential customer into choosing her.
AMB3R made the walk from the headquarters to her apartment in a fraction of the time it took her to get there to start her shift. Back inside the familiar virtual walls of her cozy apartment, she set everything to “Do Not Disturb”. She wanted to be alone right now, for just ten minutes or so.
She removed the virtual clothes, simple street clothes for the walk to and from the apartment, in favor of comfortable attire. A silk pink nightshirt and matching fuzzy slippers appeared on her body. The comfort these clothes were designed to provide the wearer was all in AMB3R’s mind. These virtual clothes couldn’t physically do anything to her. AMB3R will never know the warmth of sweatpants, the pain of high heels, or even the fuzziness of the pink slippers on her feet right now.
AMB3R turned to her bed. It was the same make as the “sex-beds” at Frayle’s Girls & Escorts, just colored and patterned differently. Right now she would like to go to bed, sleep through the night, and wake up tomorrow morning with a clean slate, having put today behind her. But Serenity residents didn’t need to sleep. Even then, the sex-bed couldn’t even simulate sleeping; it couldn’t animate AMB3R sleeping soundly and dreaming peacefully.
But what AMB3R really wanted to see was a sunset. Not once has she had the privilege to enjoy the sight of the sun descending into the horizon, signaling for the end of the day. This was because Serenity sites didn’t simulate the progression of the day. Everything would remain programmed as it was, and would only change upon the owner’s digression. For example, Josh’s City was a city at night, dark sky and bright lights from tall buildings; there was never daylight on this site unless Josh decided there should be, and he hasn’t ever decided that before. Changing it was easy, but it could only be done by the site’s owner. And there was no sunset setting to choose from.
Sunset-less and sleepless, AMB3R wandered onto the deck of her virtual apartment. She gazed onto the virtual streets and virtual buildings, lit up by their virtual lights. She began to wonder what tears felt like. She would only get to cry virtual tears. Would they be an accurate simulation?
She tried, but couldn’t. AMB3R couldn’t even cry virtual tears.