Joining the Guild — The Interview
Guild Scramble is an RPG. Every playable character is an adventurer, and the concept is to take control of them as they knock out commissions across a fantasy world. There are a few mildly suggestive touches here and there, but at its core the game was teen-rated.
Guild Scramble was an eroge. The female characters are female slaves, the male characters are their trainers, and the concept is to take control of them as they knock out every kind of filthy, vulgar commission imaginable. Anyone with eyes could tell at a glance it was unambiguously adults-only.
It was. It was, it— it was, right?
No. Something was off. Something was wrong. The Guild Scramble I knew had never been like this. What even was a "female slave"? I'd never heard of anything like that.
The world of Guild Scramble was built on gender equality. Sure, there were a few tired stereotypes floating around, but nothing this extreme!
The world of Guild Scramble is, at its foundation, a patriarchy. For females — whose reason for existing is to service male lust — becoming slaves is only natural. The goal of every female is to become a useful pussy that men can play with however they please.
...H-huh? It was? That was the worldview? Come to think of it, maybe it was.... I couldn't remember all that clearly, but perhaps.... It wasn't like I had the setting memorized down to the last footnote, right? Maybe there'd been parts I'd just gotten wrong?
No. No. Even if that were true, that didn't mean I had to become a female slave, did it? I was a man. At the very least, I had been one. My memories of my previous life were still vivid — how was I supposed to just roll over and become some female slave of all things....
Man or not in your previous life — you are a woman now. Obeying the common sense of the present is only natural. Clinging to the common sense of the past and throwing a tantrum is an act of utter unreason, and naturally something you cannot do.
No. This is wrong...
This world is broken. I have to get out of here...
"Um, miss? Are you all right?"
"Hweh?!"
"You've been looking pretty rough for a while now. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I-I'm fine."
I wiped the drool leaking from the corner of my mouth and waved her off. Daydreaming right in front of someone. What the hell was I doing?
My body really had been off today. Maybe I needed a checkup.
"If you're all right, then let's go over the confirmation one more time. You are here to register with our guild as a female slave, correct?"
"Uh... yes!"
There were some differences from the real world I'd come from, and I was a little worried about adapting — but once you'd fallen into a game world, keeping step with its current was only natural.
The clue that would get me back to reality might be sitting right here. I couldn't exactly pull my foot off the pedal just because things felt awkward.
Besides, I'd been a player of Guild Scramble to begin with. I couldn't pretend I didn't want to enjoy for real what I'd once enjoyed as a game.
"Heheh, I see. In the case of female-slave applicants, we'll need to check what sort of abilities you have. That won't be a problem, will it?"
"Uh..."
Had this been a thing? It hadn't been on the game screen.
Then again, if you thought about it with any common sense at all, of course it was. Even a two-bit operation takes a resume and runs an interview. You at least have to confirm the applicant is someone you can actually use.
I was nervous, but I answered with as much swagger as I could muster. A man lives on confidence.
"Yes!"
"Wonderful. Then could you start by telling me your name?"
"A-Astera... just Astera!"
Astera von Libenheim's whole concept in the original was that she hid the fact that she was a noble. I decided to play it the same way. A noble bloodline drew aggro just by existing.
"Astera, then. Miss Astera, is yours a used pussy, or a brand-new one?"
"It's still unused."
The guild receptionist blinked at my answer, as if she hadn't expected that.
"Oh my, a pussy nobody's used yet? Just looking at you, I was sure you were the kind of filthy cumrag whose pussy never goes a day without getting wrecked."
"Eh, eheheh. I wouldn't go that far..."
A filthy cumrag whose pussy never went a day unused.
Leave it to a receptionist whose job was customer service to deliver a compliment that smoothly.
In a world where a woman's entire worth was decided by how well she served her pussy up to men, that kind of line was a top-tier compliment. I knew it was empty flattery. I'd originally been a man. And even so, my lips curled up on their own.
"Ah — is there some rule against having a virgin pussy?"
Worry hit me out of nowhere, and the good mood evaporated on the spot.
From the guild's point of view, they'd want a pussy with a proven track record if they could get one, right? Maybe a virgin pussy was a bad thing. That was the thought.
The receptionist answered as if that concern were nothing but a phantom.
"No, no. Of course not. We wouldn't turn away a female slave over something that small. Even if you're short on experience, anyone can become a female slave if they take their pussy training seriously. And depending on their tastes, there are even gentlemen who prefer a female slave with less experience."
"I-I see. That's a relief. Phew."
"So the pussy is a virgin... then at what sort of pace do you masturbate?"
"M-masturbate?"
At least since I'd ended up in this body, I hadn't done it once.
I turned it over for a second, then decided I wasn't going to lie.
"A-about once a day?"
Not a lie. That had been about my pace back when I was a man.
The receptionist looked at me like she couldn't believe what she'd just heard.
"Once a day...? Is that once total — clit, nipples, pussy, ass, everything combined? Or once each?"
"All of it combined... is something wrong with that?"
"It's not wrong, exactly... but someone aiming to be a female slave usually fingers herself at least a dozen times a day, don't they? Once a day is, how do I put this... light. The whole point of masturbating isn't self-satisfaction — it's training, so that when a gentleman uses your pussy he can enjoy himself that much more. Haven't you been neglecting that a little too much?"
"Nngh..."
She was right a hundred times over, and I dropped my head.
Now that I thought about it, once a day really was nothing. You saw it in doujinshi all the time — girls who stayed up all night lost in their own fingers. I should have used that as a reference.
Not that I could have lied about it anyway...
"Ahem! Then I'll move on to the next question. Of all the sexual alms you've received so far, which one left the deepest impression?"
"Sexual alms?"
I'd never heard the word in my life. I just parroted it back at her, looking stupid.
"Yes, sexual alms. You know. Even if a gentleman doesn't give you his cock directly, he might knead your tits for you, or finger your pussy until you climax — that sort of thing. Charity of a sexual nature. Sexual alms. You... don't know what that is?"
"Ah, aah. S-sexual alms? Um, well..."
I tried to invent something — anything — but of course my brain chose this exact moment to turn into a rock. If it was supposed to be memorable, it needed impact, and I did not have the reflexes to improvise an impactful sex story on the spot in the middle of an already chaotic interview.
And the receptionist had no intention of waiting for me anyway.
She shot to her feet and sank both hands into my huge chest.
"Huaaang♥ Ah, w-waiiit♥ W-what are you doiiing♥♥♥"
She'd only grabbed my breasts — hard, sure — but the electric rush of pleasure that bloomed through my chest made it nearly impossible to hold onto my sanity.
A woman's chest was this sensitive? This easy to feel good? Compared to when I was a man, it was like night and day!
"I cannot believe this... You're walking around with a pair of tits this fucking hot and you've never received a single sexual alms worth remembering? Try saying something that makes sense! Even I want to play with these and I'm a woman — you expect me to buy that?"
Her voice was heated, jealousy mixed in, as she mauled my tits like she was kneading dough.
Honestly, it hurt. It definitely hurt... but it felt so good that the pain barely registered. ♥
And whenever her fingers so much as flicked across my nipples—
"Kkhuuuu♥♥ Nngh♥ Hngoooooh♥♥♥♥"
—my pussy soaked through so fast my panties couldn't even pretend to do their job.
"Hah, you fucking slut. Look at how sensitive you are. And you're telling me you barely even masturbate? You're a goddamn natural. A girl like this wakes up once and she turns into a man-eating succubus. Hah. I'm jealous."
The receptionist twisted my nipples, her voice thick with irritation.
If just a light flick across them had my pussy this desperate, then doing that....
"Kahuuuuuu♥♥♥♥♥♥ H-hiiit♥ Huaaaaaaaaaah♥♥♥"
My pussy remembered its very first female climax and sprayed girl-cum like it had lost its mind.
There's an old wives' tale that a woman's orgasm is three times a man's. That's a straight-up lie. Three times? Even ten times wouldn't begin to cover it.
After watching me come apart that pathetically, the receptionist seemed to feel a little better. She let go of my nipples and apologized.
"Ah, I'm sorry. It just made me a little angry, watching talent like that go to waste."
"N-nooo♡ I-i-it's fine♡ Th-that can happen."
As someone applying to be a female slave, I was in no position to get angry over having my nipples wrung out against my will. And honestly, I wasn't angry.
I'd originally been a man, so I didn't have a great handle on a woman's senses, but... this was probably just normal, right?
"Mm, but you have a problem too, Miss Astera. If you've got a pair of udders this magnificent and gentlemen still aren't giving you sexual alms, it's because you've been far too passive. I get them constantly, just for reference. When a man sees a girl who gets him hard, he gives her sexual alms without holding back — and you've received so few you don't have a single one worth remembering. What kind of life have you even been living?"
Going with well, I only possessed this body a little while ago was probably not a viable excuse, was it?
"Haa... what do I do with this? Never mind that it's a rookie pussy — she barely masturbates, and she hasn't even received proper sexual alms... Even so, at this rate you're a little underqualified to be a female slave..."
"I-is there anything we can do?"
It was humiliating.
In web novels, other transmigrators used their knowledge of the original plot as a cheat and got pampered left and right. I was about to wash out of a job interview. I'd already had my fill of flunking interviews in my previous life.
I guess some people were just born winners and the rest of us weren't, huh?
"Mm... that said, I can't exactly turn away someone who wants to become a female slave just because I feel like it. In that case, I think we'd better wait for the Manager's judgment."
"The Manager?"
Had there been someone like that in the original? The guild wasn't a hotel. A guildmaster I could understand, but...
Well. There was no guarantee this world was going to match the game beat for beat.
"Yes! There's someone here who is truly, truly great and magnificent. If it's him, he'll give us the right answer. There's no doubt about it."
She said it with the eyes of a missionary expounding the greatness of God — and then, without asking me a thing, she grabbed my arm and started pulling.
"Ah, w-wait a second..."
I tried to stop her. It did nothing. I would have liked a little more caution before meeting a character who didn't even exist in the original, but it looked like I wasn't going to get it.
If the guild turned down my registration here, there was nothing I could do. I had no choice but to let her hand lead me and follow where she went.
I didn't really understand what was going on — but whatever it was, I hoped it'd work out....