Host Brian Atwood grinned at the gathered contestants. “In just two minutes,” he said, “you will be entering the apartment. You already know what the show is about, but let me just go over the salient points once more. There will be no evictions by public vote – you stay in there as long as you can, with the last person to come out winning one million dollars. You will need a strong stomach to survive in there. It is smelly, gross, and designed to disgust you. We will set you challenges to further test your endurance. If at any time you decide you can’t take it any more, simply come to the Communication Room and say you want to be let out. Many of you will fall by the wayside in the first few days – maybe even on Day One.
“You have all signed release forms, so you cannot sue us or each other for any unpleasant experiences you have while in the apartment. There are, however, for your protection, some rules which you will have to follow or face expulsion. These are as follows. One – you must not inappropriately touch another contestant. So guys – no groping. Two – you must not hit another contestant. Any slapping, kicking, punching or whatever – you’re out. Three – you must not physically force another contestant to do something against their will. No forcing of heads down toilet bowls, in other words, or anything like that. Big Bugger will be watching you at all times, and will tolerate no infractions of the rules whatsoever. Aside from those three rules, however, anything goes – you are encouraged to gross each other out and make each others’ experiences in there as miserable as possible. That’s what the audience is going to want to see – they want to see you grossed out until you crack, give up, and leave. That’s it – now get in there and compete!”
The twelve contestants picked up their suitcases – they had only been allowed one small case each – and one by one they entered the apartment that they would call home for the next … who knew how long? The game might be over in a couple of days, or it might drag on for weeks – even the producers had no idea.
The first person to enter the house was Jo – a twenty-year-old college student with blonde wavy hair that fell to her shoulders. She had a trim, athletic figure, and loved to compete, especially against men. More specifically, she loved to beat men at their own game. And quite often she did. She was absolutely determined to win this game – no man was going to outlast her in a feat of endurance … and she was positive no woman would either. She anticipated that it would come down to a final duel of wills between herself and one of the guys – probably Jim, if she was any judge of character.
Even Jo, however, was somewhat shocked at the state of the apartment she entered. The first thing that hit her was the smell – a rotting, pungent smell that made her feel sick. Grime covered the walls. The carpets were filthy, with garbage strewn all over the floor wherever she looked. A congealing puddle of something sticky was drying out just in front of one of the sofas. And everywhere she looked, cockroaches scuttled to and fro, feeding on all the mess.
Pulling herself together, she advanced into the room and scoped the place out. To the left there was a doorway (no door though) leading through to the kitchen, and to the right a corridor which led through, no doubt, to the bathroom and bedrooms. Anxious to claim the least disgusting bed, Jo walked quickly down the corridor. The first door she passed was painted bright blue and bore the legend “Communication Room”, so she ignored that for the time being.
To her surprise there were just two bedrooms, each with a double bed. Both were as disgusting as the living room. Jo picked one and walked in. Throwing back the duvet on one of the beds, she found the sheet below crawling with cockroaches, which immediately scuttled for cover. Wrinkling her nose, she replaced the duvet and dumped her suitcase on top. Then she watched as other people started to appear.
There were twelve of them, all told – sis guys and six girls, all between the ages of eighteen and thirty. All were very different. As they came and investigated the room she was in, she made mental notes about each of them.
First, there was Greg, the joker. Except that he wasn’t funny in the slightest. Short and stocky, with a shock of reddish hair, he had a higher-pitched voice than one would expect, looking at him. Jo did not like him much.
Next there was Claudia, an attractive brunette with the biggest boobs Jo had ever seen. She had a soft, plumpish figure – not fat, but the complete opposite of Jo’s. Not the kind of girl who went jogging regularly, if at all. She was obviously aware of the effect her chest had on men, and was wearing a thin peasant-girl top which showed a lot of cleavage and clung enticingly to her enormous curves. Her tight jeans showed that her legs, while having plenty of flesh on them, were at least nicely shaped. Jo judged that she was about the same age as herself – perhaps a little younger.
Then came Milton, a man to make any girl weak at the knees. Tall, black and well-built, he had a handsome face, a winning smile, and a deep honey-like voice. He was one of the oldest – maybe as much as thirty.
After that was Marty – a fresh-faced youth just out of university who seemed very nice and easy-going. Jo found him somewhat attractive – he obviously kept in shape and had lovely eyes.
Next was Steve, a laconic, rather surly individual who seemed to be watching everyone around him very closely. She barely suppressed a shiver as he turned those dark eyes on her before they all came in. She did not like him – he unnerved her.
Then there was Justine, a pretty young thing of barely eighteen years of age (or so she said – Jo suspected she might be younger than that). She was dressed in a short blue dress which showed off her slim legs to good advantage. Her low-cut top also revealed several inches of cleavage. She was not as generously proportioned, chest-wise, as Claudia, but in other company she would be considered quite buxom. From the moment they all met, she had been flirting shamelessly with the men, and Jo, disgusted by this, had decided to focus her energies on getting Justine out as soon as possible.
The next person was Christopher, a twitchy sort who fidgeted incessantly. He was tall and lanky, with short dark hair and incongruously pale eyes. Jo dismissed him almost immediately – he was not going to be much of a threat. He was a little older than Jo.
After Christopher came Amy, a tiny Asian girl with a sweet round face and soulful brown eyes. She was much too petite and harmless to survive long in an endurance challenge like this – Jo figured that the girl would flee the first time a bug crawled on her. She was wearing a little brown dress, short but not terribly sexy. Jo happened to know that she was twenty-six years old, though she looked as if she was still in her teens.
Megan, the next girl, was short by western standards but still several inches taller than Amy. She was wearing a tank-top and jeans, and was about twenty-five years old. Quiet and shy, she had not said a word to anyone yet, as far as Jo knew.
Jim popped his head in after Megan had taken a seat on the other side of the bed. He was a good-looking man, with swept-back hair and a casual air that gave the impression of great patience. Jo considered him the biggest threat – she could tell he was here for the long haul.
Finally there was Sally, a slim girl who was perhaps more like Jo than any of the others. ‘Hard’ was the word that sprang immediately to Jo’s mind when looking at her. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, she made no concessions to femininity although she was attractive enough in her own way. She was the oldest girl there – twenty-eight, as Jo had learned earlier.
“Not enough room for twelve to sleep comfortably,” observed Marty. “We can sleep three in a bed, but that’s only six of us. Two more can sleep on couches in the living room. Where are the others going to sleep?”
“There are enough armchairs for the rest,” said Jim, “and they all recline. But the upholstery is seething with cockroaches.”
“Have you seen the beds?” said Jo, pulling back the duvet. Once again the uncovered cockroaches scattered in every direction. “Face it – we’re all going to have roaches crawling on us while we sleep.”
Justine, who was standing in the doorway, paled and looked queasy. She turned and hurried away.
“I’ll take this side of the bed,” said Jo. “It’ll have to be first come, first served.”
“I’ll take the middle,” grinned Greg, who had just walked in. He dropped his case in the middle of the bed, to emphasize his claim.
“I’ll have the other side,” said Marty. “And have I mentioned how attractive I find you, Greg?”
It was Greg’s turn to pale. “You’re gay?” he asked.
Marty nodded. “Is that a problem?”
“N-no,” stuttered Greg. “Of course not.”
The other bed, it turned out later, had been claimed by Claudia, Sally and Christopher. Jim and Milton took the couches, leaving the armchairs for Steve, Amy, Megan and Justine. Neither the couches or the armchairs had bedclothes, but fortunately the apartment was kept very warm. Jo was very curious as to what other people had brought in their cases – she herself had brought three pairs of panties, two bras, two pairs of shorts (one spandex), a t-shirt, a tank-top, two pairs of socks, deodorant, a razor and shaving cream, a hairbrush, a toothbrush and toothpaste, soap, bodywash, shampoo, cleanser, moisturizer, hand lotion, q-tips, tampons, panty-liners, and some antiseptic ointment in case she got a cut in this filthy place. She had had some idea of what to expect, but had not realized it would be this bad. She had not brought any make-up or perfume, those being luxury ‘girly’ items she really had no need of, but she wished she had brought at least the perfume – it would have helped counter the stench of the roaches. She also wished she had brought some cotton wool to put in her ears at night – she had heard that roaches sometimes crawled into people’s ears and got stuck.
It was not long before a rather gruesome discovery was made. Justine, the first to use the toilet, came running out and announced in a horrified voice that it would not flush. All the men immediately crowded around the toilet, and after a moment’s inspection realized that a) the cistern had no water in it, b) the entire flushing apparatus had been removed from the cistern anyway, and c) the toilet was not attached to the plumbing – a metal plate was welded across where the U-bend was truncated.
“No means of flushing,” said Marty, puzzled. “How do we get rid of our shit then?”
“We don’t,” said Greg with a grin. “It’ll just pile up in a great big heap until it’s unusable and we have to go in the bathtub.”
“Maybe the game will be over by that time,” suggested Milton.
Jo heard this exchange from the doorway and frowned thoughtfully. This experience would not last too long if there were no adequate toilet facilities. The smell alone would drive them all out within a week.
Claudia was horrified to learn of this. “That’s just unhealthy!” she complained. “Putting up with bugs and general filth is unpleasant, but without proper sanitation we could really get sick!”
“Want to leave?” said Sally. “There’s the door – you’re free to go.”
Claudia glared at her. “I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” she said.
“Who’s okay with it?” said Sally with a shrug. “I’m just glad I’m handling it better than you. It puts me that much nearer the money.”
Claudia had no response to this, and shut up. The look she shot at Sally behind her back, however, was one of utter hostility.
Jo, sitting on one of the couches, stiffened as a cockroach ran over her chest. She did not like roaches in the least, but did not want to seem weak, so she merely flicked it off in an attempt at nonchalance. Then she froze again as she felt a tickle on her calf. A roach was climbing her leg – inside her jeans! Why had she not thought to tuck her jeans into her socks? She tried squashing it against the couch, but her leg was too soft to crush the hard body of the insect, and when she released it, it merely began climbing again. It reached her knee, then started climbing her thigh. Sweat broke out on her forehead. She knew it would not get much further – her thighs filled out her jeans completely and left no room for a scurrying roach, but it was most unpleasant to have a bug even this far up her jeans.
She got up and went through to her bedroom, where Greg was lying on the bed with his arms folded behind his head. She thought about asking him to leave, but decided against it – he was unlikely to comply, and the request would only tell him that she was uncomfortable undressing in front of him … a fact he would no doubt exploit. Therefore, with an air of apparent unconcern, she unfastened her jeans and pulled them down to her knees, then began to look for the roach. She could not help noticing that Greg was staring at her panties with interest.
“What’s up?” he said. “You been bitten by something?”
“A roach ran up my leg,” she said. “Just trying to find it.”
He grinned. “Wouldn’t want to have bugs in your panties, huh?”
“Something like that,” she replied, turning away from him. Then she found the roach and flicked it off on to the floor. “Whew!” she sighed, displaying more relief than she intended. She started pulling her jeans back up. When they were almost at her bottom, however, a dozen or so roaches suddenly landed inside them, while a couple more bounced off her legs and bottom. She yelped and pulled her jeans back down, then turned and looked daggers at Greg, who was laughing and clapping his hands. He had obviously scooped up a handful from beneath the duvet, and thrown them into her jeans from behind.
“Bastard!” she said angrily.
“Did I scare you?” he asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Momentarily,” said Jo. “I wasn’t prepared for it though – that won’t work again. And beware my revenge, Greg – I won’t let you get away with that.”
“I can’t wait,” he replied.
More rattled than she cared to let on, she took off her jeans completely and emptied them out, only putting them back on when she was sure there were none left. As she pulled them up, she watched Greg like a hawk, but he did not try anything else. Once she had fastened her jeans, she tucked them into her socks, and left the room.
There was very little to do in the apartment. There was a television, a set of playing cards, a few board games such as chess and monopoly, and that was all in terms of entertainment. Unlike shows such as Big Brother, there was no garden here, no hot-tub … there was just the extremely cramped apartment, and thousands of cockroaches to share it with them. She found it hard to believe that it would make for good television.
Cameras were everywhere. There were at least twenty just in the living room. More were in the bedrooms and the kitchen, and even the toilet had at least five that she could see. They were going to be scrutinized in every detail – nowhere was hidden from the public’s view. The advertising had claimed that web users would be able to select any camera they wanted, and watch high-definition streaming video twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The incident with Greg would have been watched by millions, perhaps – not a comforting thought. If she did not want her nudity published on websites all over the world, she would have to get changed under the bedclothes – and with the knowledge of all the roaches in her bed, this was also not a comforting thought. Maybe she would have to simply accept the inevitability of her naked body being watched all over the world by horny, masturbating teenaged boys (and dirty old men). The only comforting aspect of this was that there were several girls in the house whom those boys and men would almost certainly rather watch.
It was not long before Justine was in tears. Tired of being on her feet, she sat down in an armchair, only to have a couple of cockroaches run up her dress between her legs. Another ran over her shoulder and dropped into her cleavage. She screamed and leapt up in a panic, flapping her dress and trying to pull the bugs out. It took several minutes for her to calm down.
Sally was, it seemed, the most helpful in this, though Jo wondered at her motivations. “Justine,” she said soothingly to the young girl, “obviously we can’t all stay on our feet the whole time we’re here. We’re going to have to sit down, and it’s simply inevitable that we’re going to have cockroaches crawling over us. If you can’t handle that, you’ve already lost and might as well leave. But I think you’re stronger than that. You just have to believe that you can handle the bugs, and you will handle them.”
Tearfully, Justine nodded. “I thought I’d be all right with them,” she said. “But when I felt them inside my dress, I just … panicked.”
“You just need to get used to them,” said Sally firmly. “Why don’t you sit back down, breathe deeply, and force yourself to ignore the cockroaches. If you can do that, you’ll have a fighting chance of winning the prize money. If you can’t do it, then you might as well just leave. But I believe in you, Justine – you can do it!”
Looking rather anxious, Justine lowered herself into the armchair again. For a moment, nothing happened – the roaches were not fond of large objects moving in their vicinity. After she had been sitting motionless for about half a minute, however, a particularly large German cockroach appeared, running around from her back to the front of her dress. Another, smaller roach climbed up on to her leg. Justine stiffened and closed her eyes.
“Good girl!” said Sally encouragingly.
The large roach on her front now ran up her dress and climbed on to the skin of her left breast. Then it scuttled down into her cleavage and was lost from view. Justine trembled and bit her lip.
“Keep it together, Justine,” said Sally. “You can do it!”
Jo, intrigued by what was going on, stepped closer in order to see better. She noticed a roach running up the inside of Justine’s thigh, and then another roach running down into her cleavage. There were now four other roaches visible on the outside of Justine’s dress, and a couple more on her legs. There was even one on top of her head.
“Now you can see, can’t you,” said Sally, “that even though you have cockroaches all over you, they’re not biting you or hurting you in any way. They’re harmless and you can quite safely ignore them. Congratulations!”
Justine managed a weak smile, and tentatively opened her eyes. “Can I get them off now?” she said.
Sally shrugged. “What’s the point? Others will climb on you if you continue sitting there. Watch some TV – forget about the bugs.”
To her credit, Justine did so – for about ten minutes, after which she had so many roaches inside her dress that she was getting really freaked out. She stood up, hoisted her dress up around her chest, and brushed off all the insects she found.
“What was that all about?” Jo asked Sally. “Shouldn’t you be trying to make her more scared of them?”
Sally chuckled. “She won’t be much competition. She was about ready to quit, though, and where’s the fun in that? Might as well make her suffer a bit before she cracks and leaves.”
Jo grinned. “You’re evil,” she said, and Sally laughed.
When Jo went to the toilet a little later, she found it half full of pee already. This was a big concern – when it filled up, not with shit but with pee, it would spill all over the bathroom floor, and pretty soon the entire floor of the bathroom would be awash with urine.
“Hey guys,” she said to the others as she entered the living room. “Unless we want the bathroom to be flooded before the end of the day, I suggest we come up with a plan for the disposal of pee.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” said Marty, “but it’s quite a challenge.”
“What about the bathtub?” asked Amy, who had still not sat down anywhere in the apartment, to Jo’s knowledge.
“I second that motion,” said Jo. “We can always wash it out before we need to use it to have a bath.”
“No we can’t,” said Milton. “The plughole doesn’t go anywhere. Also, the bathroom taps don’t produce any water.”
“No water?” exclaimed Claudia in alarm. “How are we to take baths then? And how are we to drink?”
“The taps in the kitchen sink don’t work either,” said Christopher. “You know, I’ve come to a decision guys.” All eyes turned toward him. “I’m leaving,” he said simply. “I know I won’t win, so there’s no point in putting myself through any more of this crap. I hate the bugs, I hate the mess, and I hate the toilet facilities. So it’s been nice meeting you all, but I’m off.”
Stunned, the others watched as he went through to Bedroom Two, picked up his suitcase, and then pushed the button next to the door of the Communication Room. A round light changed from red to green, and he opened the door and stepped through. The door closed behind him, the light changed back to red, and that was that.
“Well! I didn’t think anybody would quit on the first day!” said Steve. “But that will make it easier on the rest of us. May I claim Chris’s spot in the second bed?”
“First come, first served,” said Sally. “I don’t see why not.”
Half an hour later, the loudspeakers buzzed, and a voice said, “YOUR DINNERS ARE IN THE COMMUNICATION ROOM. PLEASE SEND SOMEONE TO RETRIEVE THEM.”
“All right!” said Greg. “Food!” He walked over to the Communication Room door, where the round light was now green. He entered, and then called back, “I’m going to need some help with this.” Milton and Marty were close behind, and the three of them brought out various bottles and packages.
“Take them through to the kitchen,” said Claudia. “That seems to be the cleanest place in the apartment.”
The food was laid out on the kitchen table, and everyone gathered around to see what they had. There were eleven foil containers, each of which was labeled. “Okay,” said Claudia. “Who’s the vegetarian?”
“I am,” said Jim. Claudia handed him a package, which he opened cautiously. It was a Chinese vegetable fried rice dish, and he nodded approvingly. “Not bad,” he said.
There was a bit of squabbling over some of the other containers, but in the end everyone got something they were reasonably happy with. In addition to the food, there were eleven bottles of water and six bottles of wine. Paper plates had been provided with the food.
“Excellent,” said Marty. “We’ll have a fine time with these!”
The kitchen drawers and cupboards were almost empty, but they managed to find cutlery, as well as a whole lot of cockroaches which were feasting on old food remnants in the drawers. It was obvious that the show’s producers had gone to great lengths to ensure that this apartment was as cockroach-friendly as possible.
An hour later, they were all well fed and most of them were at least slightly tipsy. Jim and Claudia were not drinkers, and Greg, Justine and Marty had had an entire bottle to themselves. Justine was now sprawled in one of the armchairs, completely oblivious to the roaches crawling all over her. Even Amy, who professed to be so terrified of bugs that she refused to sit down earlier, was now sitting on a couch with a cockroach perched on her shoulder. Another was inside her dress – Jo had seen it dive into her neckline a few minutes ago – but she was apparently unaware of that.
They had agreed to use the bath – since they had no means of running water into it – as a receptacle for pee, while the toilet would be used solely for solid waste. When Jo stumbled into the bathroom late in the evening to empty her bladder, she noticed that the toilet contained two turds already – one large one that was sitting at the bottom of the bowl, and a smaller one that was floating at the surface. The level of pee was almost up to the top. Grimacing, she pulled down her jeans and panties, hovered over the bathtub (into which a few people had already urinated) and peed, all the while watched by several cameras from different angles.
Then Justine, who had had too much to drink, came rushing in. Bending over the toilet, she retched, and emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl. Jo pulled up her panties and jeans. “Great Justine, just great – thanks for making our visits to the bathroom a whole lot more pleasant.” Disgusted, she swayed out of the room.
Entering the living room, she noticed that the food containers were scattered around the floor, and now crawling with cockroaches. “Good grief guys,” she said. “Good way to attract the roaches. Isn’t there a garbage bin somewhere?”
“Nope,” said Marty, “no garbage bins anywhere.”
Jo rolled her eyes. “That figures,” she said. She went and sat down on the couch next to Sally. “What do you think of it so far?” she inquired quietly.
“Most of them will be gone by this time tomorrow,” replied Sally. “The place will be a nightmare soon – have you been in the bathroom lately?”
Jo nodded. “I was just there. Justine threw up in the toilet.”
Sally grimaced. “Nice,” she said. “She’ll be the next to go, I think. Her and Amy. Then Claudia.”
“Then Megan?” suggested Jo.
Sally shook her head. “Little Megan’s tougher than she looks, I think,” she said. “I’m thinking Steve or Marty next.”
“Why Steve?” Jo wanted to know.
“He jumps whenever he thinks there’s a roach on him,” said Sally with a grin. “He’ll be a nervous wreck in a couple of days.”
Jo did not care to admit that she herself jumped whenever she thought a roach was on her. Perhaps Sally thought that she would follow soon after Steve. If she thought that, then she was wrong – Jo was absolutely determined to win this thing, no matter what!
Later, she used a little of her bottled water to brush her teeth, then she undressed to her bra and panties, and threw back the duvet. No way was she getting into a bed that was full of roaches! She swept off all the offending insects, then replaced the duvet and climbed into bed. She hoped no roaches would crawl into her ears while she slept.
DAY TWO
Jo awoke to find an arm around her. Alarmed, she turned herself around, and found Greg’s sleeping face next to hers. She extricated herself from his embrace, and climbed out of bed. Roaches tumbled from her body, and she nearly screamed, but managed to catch herself in time. She quickly brushed off all the roaches she could see that were still on her, and then a cold sweat broke out on her brow as she realized that there were more actually inside her panties.
She quickly pulled her panties down to her knees and shook two roaches out of them. Another was clinging to her pubic hair, and she pulled it off with a shudder. Then, realizing the cameras had just seen her pussy, she quickly pulled her panties back up. It was then that she felt, to her horror, movement inside her vagina.
Feeling sick, she climbed slowly back under the duvet, where the cameras would not be able to see her, and reached inside her panties with one hand. Working a couple of fingers into her cunt, she felt around for the intruder. Almost immediately she touched something hard, but when she tried to grasp it, it wriggled deeper, out of reach. For the next ten minutes she tried again and again to grab hold of it, but to no avail.
‘Eventually,’ she told herself, ‘it will die, or come out by itself. Or else come far enough down for me to reach it.’ With that rationale, she gave up the hunt, and climbed out of bed again. By this time, there was another cockroach in her panties. She hurriedly removed it, and opened her suitcase.
Her khaki shorts, she immediately realized, would allow roaches to reach her panties whenever she sat down. Her spandex shorts, on the other hand, would be perfect at keeping the little bastards out. She donned them with a certain sense of satisfaction, marred only by the thought that she was locking the stable door after the horse had bolted (except that this situation was kind of the reverse).
Donning a tank top, which would not keep the roaches out but would at least make it easy to remove any that got in, she wandered through to the living room. Jim and Milton were both fast asleep on their respective couches. Megan was lying on one of the reclined armchairs, wearing a pair of pink pajamas. There were no cockroaches on her, that Jo could see – perhaps some were inside the pajamas. Amy, wearing a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, was on another chair – Jo could see two cockroaches on her, and as she watched, one of them disappeared up Amy’s shorts. Justine was on another chair, still wearing her dress of the day before, although it was gathered around her waist so that her white panties were exposed. Jo noted, with a certain evil satisfaction, movement inside those panties.
Heading next to the bathroom, Jo found Marty, with one of last night’s food containers in his hand, scooping urine from the toilet and dumping it in the bathtub. He had already lowered the level of pee to about halfway down the bowl.
“Good grief!” exclaimed Jo. “That’s very public-spirited of you, Marty!”
“Someone had to do it,” sighed Marty. “And it might as well be me.”
“You’re a good man, Marty,” said Jo. “Perhaps people will get the message today.”
“I hope so,” said Marty fervently. “Because I’m buggered if I’m doing this again.”
“Well, would you mind leaving the room for a moment?” said Jo, taking a piece of toilet paper from the roll next to the toilet. “I need to pee.”
“Sure. In fact I’m going to stop there,” said Marty. He left, and Jo pulled down her shorts and panties, and peed into the tub. There was now about half an inch of pee in the bath, and a few bits of Justine’s vomit, as well as some shredded pieces of toilet paper, were floating in it too.
“BREAKFAST IS IN THE COMMUNICATION ROOM,” announced the loudspeakers. “PLEASE COME AND COLLECT IT.”
Jo wiped herself with the paper, which she dropped into the tub, and then pulled her panties and shorts up. Washing her hands with the remainder of the water in her bottle, she went to the communication room, only to discover Marty had beaten her to it.
“I hope you washed your hands,” she said to him with a chuckle as he picked up two loaves of bread.
“I did,” he said gravely. “Those water bottles, I guess, are for more than just drinking from.”
Jo nodded and picked up two bottles of milk. “They’re giving us cereal?” she inquired. “Do we even have bowls? I didn’t see any.”
“Here,” said Marty, showing her a stack of paper bowls which he had tucked under one arm.
They took what they had through to the kitchen, then went back for the water bottles, the cereal boxes, and the little packs of jam, marmalade and butter. The kitchen, though otherwise extremely ill-equipped, had a toaster, so Jo ate an adequate breakfast of cornflakes followed by toast with butter and marmalade. Afterwards they put the milk in the small fridge, and sealed up the bread as well as they could so that the roaches would not get at it.
As they entered the living room, Greg was entering it from the other end, scratching at his head sleepily. He noticed Justine lying on her chair with her panties in full view, and grinned. Then he looked more closely, and grinned still further. Shaking her by the shoulder, he said, “Justine! Wake up! You’ve got cockroaches in your panties!”
Justine came to, slowly at first, but then she suddenly roused herself as Greg’s words took hold in her brain. Shrieking in terror, she pulled her panties down and flailed at the roaches, sending them flying every which way. Greg, meanwhile, was laughing fit to burst, and not once taking his eyes off Justine’s pussy, which to Jo’s surprise was shaved completely bald.
“Oh my God!” exclaimed Justine, “I think there’s one inside me!”
Jo bit her lip and said nothing. She had very little sympathy for the girl, since she herself had a roach inside her own vagina. Greg, however, was delighted at this news, though he forced his face into solemnity. “It’ll lay its eggs inside you,” he said to her seriously. “Soon you’ll be giving birth to lots of little baby roaches.”
Justine screamed, got up, and ran for the Communication Room. Greg punched the air with a whoop of victory. Just as she entered the corridor, however, Justine ran smack into Sally, who had just emerged from Bedroom Two. Both girls bounced back and fell on to the floor. Justine, winded, clutched her stomach and groaned in pain. Sally recovered at once and got to her feet. “Watch where you’re going, you stupid girl!” she snapped. “What’s the hurry?”
“She has a roach in her pussy!” said Greg, laughing. “It’s too much for her! She’s had it – she’s out of here!”
“He said it will lay its eggs inside me!” moaned Justine, and she burst into tears.
“Quite probably,” said Sally. “Off you go, then.”
Marty, however, crossed the room and helped Justine to her feet. “I think that’s highly unlikely,” he said to her. “If you want to leave, then do, but don’t let these guys psych you out. They’ll say whatever they can think of to make you quit.”
Justine turned hopeful eyes towards him, and she said earnestly, “Would you … would you help me get it out?”
Marty’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?” he said. Then he shook himself. “You should be able to get it out by yourself,” he assured her. “Have you tried?” When she shook her head, he said, “Well I’ll tell you what. I have a towel which I can lend you so that you can hide yourself from the cameras. If you can’t get the roach out, then by all means you can give up and leave. But at least give yourself the chance.”
Justine nodded, and Sally made a disgusted sound. “I heard breakfast announced,” she said as she came into the living room. “What’s on the menu?”
“Cereal and toast,” said Jo. “And water to drink.”
“No tea?” inquired Sally. “That sucks.”
Megan and Amy had woken up during the commotion, and now Amy had a sudden panic attack as she discovered cockroaches in her own panties. The others watched her flapping dance around the living room with some amusement.
“I’ll bet they’ve got inside you, Amy,” said Greg, grinning. “They’re probably laying their eggs in your juicy cunt right now.”
“Shut the fuck up, Greg,” said Milton, rousing himself from his couch. “Leave the girl alone.”
Amy finished ridding herself of cockroaches and sank in a quivering heap to the floor. Meanwhile, Megan was calmly reaching inside her own panties (she had worn a t-shirt and sweatpants overnight) and pulling roach after roach out. The way she twisted and bent her arm on one occasion told Jo she was feeling around inside her vagina. Unlike Jo, she succeeded in retrieving a roach.
After breakfast, they were sitting around in the living room, watching television, when the loudspeakers proclaimed, “BIG BUGGER HAS A CHALLENGE FOR YOU. ONE BY ONE, EACH OF YOU WILL COME TO THE COMMUNICATION ROOM AND PERFORM A TASK. WHOEVER TAKES THE SHORTEST TIME TO COMPLETE THE TASK WILL BE REWARDED WITH A NICE HOT SCENTED BUBBLE BATH. WHOEVER TAKES THE LONGEST TIME WILL HAVE TO SPEND THE NIGHT SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR OF THE BATHROOM. WOULD AMY PLEASE COME TO THE COMMUNICATION ROOM.”
Amy, looking very nervous, got up and hesitantly walked over to the blue door. The light was green, so she entered. The others waited with breathless anticipation. “What do you suppose it is?” asked Justine with wide eyes. She had, under cover of Marty’s towel, managed to remove the cockroach inside her, which annoyed Jo no end. She had had another go, under the duvet, but without success. Perhaps she was simply tighter than Justine or Megan.
“Something gross, no doubt,” said Greg cheerfully. “Eating cow’s testicles or something.”
Justine shuddered. “I just know I’m going to lose,” she said morosely.
Fifteen minutes later Amy emerged, looking ill. Her hair looked wet. “That … was horrible!” she moaned.
“CLAUDIA, PLEASE COME TO THE COMMUNICATION ROOM.”
Claudia, looking if anything even more nervous than Amy had, went over to the blue door and passed through it.
“What did you have to do?” inquired Milton.
“I’m not allowed to say,” said Amy.
Greg followed Claudia, and Jim followed Greg. Then it was Jo’s turn. Putting on her bravest face, she marched over to the blue door, opened it, and went through. A door on the far side of the Communication Room was open, and she went through it into a larger room. In there she found Brian Atwood, the host of the show, and another man standing in front of a large fish tank which was full of squirming earthworms. “Hidden in this tank,” said Brian, “are three teddy bears. You must retrieve them all as fast as possible.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” said Jo, relieved.
“With your teeth,” continued Brian. “Your hands will be tied behind your back.”
“Oh heck,” said Jo.
The other man tied her hands securely behind her back, and then Brian said “Go!” With only a moment’s hesitation, Jo plunged her head into the squirming mass of worms and tried to feel around. It was not easy. She found she could barely move her head back and forth. After just half a minute, she had to come up to breathe. Then she plunged her head into a different spot, and almost immediately ran up against something more solid. Turning her head, she pressed her mouth against the object, and then took a bite. Pulling her head back out, she shook worms from her hair and dropped the teddy bear on to the floor.
“That’s one!” said Brian. “Two more to go.”
She tried a different spot, and worked her head down towards the bottom of the tank. Before long she hit another teddy, which she quickly retrieved. “Two!” cried Brian. “One left!” She tried again, but found nothing. On the next occasion, however, she discovered the third teddy almost immediately.
“Well done!” said Brian. “You can wash your face and hair in the washbasin over there.”
Pulling more worms from her hair, Jo went over to the basin and ran herself some warm water. There was no shampoo, but she managed to get her face and hair reasonably clean. She dried herself with a towel next to the basin, and returned to Brian. “Tell nobody in there about this challenge,” he instructed her, “otherwise you will be evicted from the apartment.”
Jo nodded, and went back through the Communication Room to rejoin the others in the apartment. As she entered the living room, she said lightly, “Well, that wasn’t so bad!”
Next up was Justine, who looked very worried. As she passed through the blue door, Jo could not help thinking that she would probably default on the challenge. In fact she would not be surprised if Claudia had done the same.
But Justine emerged after nearly twenty minutes, looking queasy but with wet hair that suggested she had gone through with it. Marty was next, then Megan, Milton, Sally, and finally Steve. Afterwards, the loudspeaker said, “BIG BUGGER NOW HAS THE RESULTS OF YOUR TASK. THE WINNER, WHO WILL BE TAKING A NICE HOT BUBBLE BATH, IS GREG.”
“All right!” exclaimed Greg, grinning around at the others.
“THE LOSER, WHO WILL HAVE TO SPEND A NIGHT SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR OF THE BATHROOM, IS CLAUDIA. FAILURE TO COMPLY WITH THIS FORFEIT WILL RESULT IN EVICTION FROM THE APARTMENT.”
Claudia’s face fell. “Do I get a mattress or something?” she asked. But there was no response. “I won’t get a wink of sleep in there, what with the smell and the hard floor,” she grumbled.