it easily could if I were to give the dragons in suits free reign.
One of the points on which I absolutely insisted was picking the contestants myself. My criteria was based on a combination of genuine need and potential sexual chemistry. I strongly preferred the million dollars to go to someone who really needed it as opposed to, for example, a trust fund baby looking to add to their family fortune.
The second factor was harder to judge. There was only so much one can tell from a photograph and a write up, no matter how thorough. It was part of the reason for the three-step process. Again, at my insistence, the applications were little more than a preliminary round.
The screen above the treadmill ran one impossibly pretty face after another. They were all glamor shots obviously done by professional photographers and write ups meant to appeal to who they thought I was based on my public image.
All of sudden, one of them caught my eye.
The image struck like a bolt from mighty Thor. The crystalline eyes. The healthy glow. The unpretentious, natural expression. She was beautiful.
I scrolled down so fast the mouse nearly broke. The write-up was different if nothing else. Much of the points of interest were at least similar to mine. For the first time since the whole thing began, I felt the faint pang of true hope.
Try as I might, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Every time I would falter, my mind breaking out of the self-imposed fugue state of turning data, focusing only long enough to process before saving or moving on, there she was. Smiling awkwardly in what could only be a selfie, the amateurishness of the photo adding to her appeal rather than detracting from it.
My natural rebellion extended to my own brain, and I kept finding myself going to the full body photo, also a selfie, taking in as much of her body as I could see or infer. My cock joined the sedition, getting quite hard.
My hands started to move and I grabbed it with the right one as though the left one had become possessed. I wouldn’t go that far. I was attracted. But I didn’t know enough to sexualize. I would need to know her before eroticism could enter the equation.
Dropping the task, I switched the screen to my player, pulled up “Travel in Woods” and took back control, forcing my mind first to go blank and then to my inner realm, a mountain valley I had conceived to be as pleasant and calming as possible. I remained there until I was calm enough to sleep.
Chapter Three - Morgan
It was worse than usual. Not for a lack of choice, but rather the sheer abundance. None of which were particularly pleasant. It was like being able to choose the weapon to administer the thousand cuts by which you die.
Biting the proverbial bullet, I dove in headfirst, trying to distance myself from the questions being asked. My imagination danced in the distance with possible visions of what life as a millionaire might be like, swinging from austere saving to investment options, in which there would be no wild extravagant fantasies of sending sprees.
I was engaging in a sort of chess with myself to see how far a million dollars could really go. I could write a book about it when all the money was gone, thereby earning even more. Probably lasting a good deal longer. My curiosity satiated, my more logical mind settled in for the long haul. I knew myself well enough to recognize the difference.
It was really quite good timing. I had just finished the last of the series of soul prodding by marketeers trying to get in touch with the modern female psyche, as well as deep into the modern female body, when I got an alert. A new message waited patiently in my inbox. To my surprise, it was from Adam himself, letting me know I had been chosen to be on the show.
I had expected, and logic dictated, that the job of reviewing applications and responding to those who made the cut would fall to a functionary. A producer in the first case and more than likely an intern in the latter. But fuck logic, let strange reality reign!
“I made it!” I rejoiced, as soon as the door was open.
“Made it!” Freya echoed from her nursery down the hall.
“Good hearing,” Astrid noted.
“You have no idea,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Made what?” Astrid inquired. “Did