Chapter 1: The Unexpected Assignment
The fluorescent lights in Margot’s office hummed at a frequency designed to mimic natural daylight, but Aidan’s headache begged to differ. He shifted in the singular, un-comfortable wooden chair positioned directly across from her sprawling steel desk. The rest of the room was a monument to female empowerment; framed quotes about resilience and shattering glass ceilings glared at him from pristine white walls.
“The engagement metrics on ‘Ask Lena’ are plateauing,” Margot said, not looking up from her tablet. Her bob was a perfect, black helmet. “The column feels theoretical. Readers are asking for more than diagrams and bullet points.”
Aidan nodded, though she wasn’t looking at him. His job was to keep the backend of their website from crashing and to make sure the subscription app didn’t glitch during peak traffic. He was good at it. He liked the clear logic of code. “We could try a new interactive format? Maybe a live Q&A widget?”
Margot finally lifted her gaze. It was calm, assessing, like she was evaluating a piece of software. “We need practical experience. Verifiable data.”
“Right. Surveys? We could partner with a university for a clinical study…” His voice trailed off as she stood smoothly and walked to the window. With a soft click, the automatic blinds descended, sealing the room in muted, shadowless light.
She turned, leaning against the frosted glass. “We have a unique asset in-house. One that’s been largely untapped.”
Aidan’s mind raced through the roster of employees—the writers, the social media strategists, the relationship coaches. He came up blank. “What asset?”
“You, Aidan.”
He blinked. “My… app development skills?”
“In a manner of speaking.” She folded her arms. “The column needs to address specific, mechanical questions. For instance, this week’s top query: ‘My partner is well-endowed and I want to deepthroat to surprise him. Any tips beyond ‘relax your throat’?’ Lena’s current draft is quoting a five-year-old Reddit thread. It’s inadequate.”
Aidan felt a flush creep up his neck. “Okay. So… we need to find an expert? A consultant?”
“We have one. You.” She said it with the same tone she’d use to announce a schedule change for the weekly stand-up. “You possess the relevant anatomical equipment. Lena needs primary source research. You will provide it.”
The air in the room felt suddenly thinner. Aidan’s mouth went dry. “Provide… it. You mean, you want me to… let someone…”
“To be the subject of controlled practical tests,” Margot clarified, her voice utterly level. “It’s research and development. For example, the deepthroat question. We need a firsthand account of angles, pacing, tangible feedback. Then there’s the question about logistical positioning for a threesome involving a creampie. Theory is one thing. Physics are another.”
Aidan heard the words, but they seemed to bounce off the surface of his understanding. He was a debugger. A problem-solver. He wrote in Python, not… in whatever this was. “Margot, I’m… I’m a developer.”
“And now you’re being seconded to the editorial team. Temporarily. Your compensation will be adjusted, of course.” She pushed off from the window and returned to her desk, tapping her tablet. “Think of it as a new API. Your body is the hardware. Lena needs to query it for specific data outputs. We document the process, the results, and she translates that into actionable, empowering advice for our readers.”
He stared at her. The clinical precision of her explanation was somehow more shocking than if she’d winked or made a lewd joke. This was a project plan. He was a resource. “This is insane. You can’t be serious.”
“I am invariably serious.” She met his eyes. “The mission of this company is to demystify female sexuality through accurate, experience-based information. We are hitting a knowledge gap. You are, quite literally, the best-equipped person on the payroll to help us bridge it. It’s efficient.”
A laugh, sharp and nervous, escaped him. “So I’m just… what? On call? To have sex… for work?”
“Not ‘just’,” she corrected. “It’s a specialized role. There will be parameters. Protocols. Discretion is, obviously, paramount. Participation is, of course, voluntary.” She paused, letting the word ‘voluntary’ hang in the sterile air. “But your cooperation would be a significant value-add to the company. And to your career here.”
It wasn’t a threat. It was a fact. A data point. Aidan’s mind spun, trying to find the bug in this logic. The error in the code. He thought of the endless, circular dates, the awkward goodbyes, the quiet loneliness of his apartment. This was nothing like that. This was absurd. This was professional.
And a part of him, a part buried under layers of social anxiety and predictable routine, flickered to life. It was the same part that enjoyed solving an impossible bug at 3 AM.
“Protocols,” he repeated, his voice quieter.
“Detailed ones. All testing is conceived and supervised by Lena and myself. Your comfort and safety are factors in the experimental design. You can veto anything at any time.” She was reading from her tablet now. “We’d begin with a baseline assessment.”
“A baseline assessment.” The phrases were so sanitized they were almost meaningless.
“Physical specifications. For the article on size variability and technique adaptation. We need accurate measurements.” She looked up. “Lena has a booking at a private clinic downtown tomorrow at two. They’re expecting you. A Doctor Sharma. She’s discreet and on a retainer.”
It was all moving so fast. The meeting had snapped from server loads to… this. To a doctor’s appointment. Aidan swallowed. The initial shock was hardening into a bizarre, shaky acceptance. It was insane. But it was also a kind of solution. A terribly strange, wildly inappropriate solution to a problem he hadn’t known he had.
“What do I tell people?” he managed to say.
“Tell them you’re leading a new cross-functional initiative,” Margot said, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching her lips. It was the first human expression she’d shown. “It’s not a lie.”
Aidan leaned back in the unforgiving chair. The framed quote behind Margot’s head seemed to blur. Well-behaved women seldom make history. He wondered what the quote was for well-behaved men. Probably something boring about stability.
“Okay,” he heard himself say. The word felt alien. “Okay. I’ll… hear the full proposal.”
“Good.” Margot’s smile vanished, replaced by pure focus. She slid her tablet across the desk. “The preliminary brief is here. Read it. We start tomorrow.”
He took the tablet. The screen glowed with a document titled “Project Paramour: Phase One Overview.” He tapped it open, the text a blur of clinical terms and bullet points.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. A message from his friend Leo: Hey, drinks tonight? Miss your boring face.
Aidan looked from the surreal document in his hands to the sleek, sealed office around him. His old life was on the other side of that frosted glass, humming along obliviously.
He typed back, his fingers steady. Can’t. Got a new project. It’s… complicated.