Sara Shaw - Career woman in her early twenties (Finished)

Sara didn't consider herself to be of the jealous type, though it would be a lie if she were to claim she felt nothing when she caught her boyfriend, Mark, eyeing other women. She could live with the occasional glance whenever they passed someone obviously attractive or when a well endowed gal decided to sunbathe braless at the beach, because that's just how men are, right? As of late however Sara was under the impression that there'd been a significant increase in the amount of glances and double-takes that Mark did, and that bothered her A LOT. This accompanied by the recent lack of excitement in the bedroom was what led her to reluctantly click on that sketchy link she'd been sent countless times by now.

Initially she'd just assumed that it was some dumb scam attempt, but the ungodly timing of her receiving the link whenever she was feeling insecure almost made her feel superstitious. It was this little doubt that led her give it the benefit of the doubt.

Clicking the link introduced Sara to a crudely made text-based website that looked as if it had been taken straight from a early 2000's forum.
The bulk of the site was slots to fill personal information such as name, age, ethnicity, hair color, and most importantly; The reason she feels inadequate.

Sara thought it was odd that the site would require so much personal information. "Well, so long as it doesn't need my social security or VISA cards I don't see a problem with it" she said to no one in particular, knowing that Mark wouldn't be home for some two hours as he had to work late again. Getting down to business she started to fill the empty slots as quickly and accurately as she could, while still taking some creative liberties.

As she began to fill out her name a warning lit up her screen. "List only truths. Anything that isn't truth will be automatically corrected to something less desirable. Do you accept these terms? Yes/No

"Less desirable? What the hell does that mean?" Sara pondered as she clicked on the Yes option, expecting not to be allowed to continue until she consented.

Name: Sara Shaw
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Ethnicity: White, Caucasian, American? "What's the politically correct way to address this question" Sara wondered, finally settling on "Caucasian"

Hair color: Brownish almost black. Sara never really knew how to describe her hair, always landing on some mix between dark brown and black. Not really seeing the point in being crystal clear in her answers she was satisfied with what she wrote.

Occupation: Accountant
Height: 5′10. Not entirely true, she was actually 5′8 but who were keeping count.
Bust size: C cup. To be perfectly honest Sara couldn't be considered more than a B cup at best but the site didn't know that, or did it?

Body type: "Body type?! Now how the hell would that be relevant to ANYTHING". Sara was getting a tad annoyed by the obvious superficial questions. Functioning relationships are way more than just sexual attraction, surely. Sara by all means had a decent body, so to put "hourglass" wouldn't be stretching the truth too much.

There were a lot more traits to fill but Sara couldn't be bothered to indulge the site's need to know about every nook and cranny of her body.

Coming up on the final task Sara had to explain why she sometimes felt inadequate. She went on to explain that she often saw Mark looking at other women for a bit too long. Some she didn't even consider to be more attractive than herself, which really made her feel like crap. She didn't dare to confront him abut it, though. After all, it's MUCH easier to vent all her problems to some random site online.

Feeling satisfied with her efforts Sara was ready to click on submit, but instead caught herself thoroughly reading her answers, a routine she had become diligent on back when she was still a university student. Looking through the list she saw some descriptors she'd decided to leave unanswered, such as tattoos and piercings, of which she had none.

After the first and second review she finally pressed the submit button. Upon pressing the button everything around her became blurry, as if she'd ingested a batch of magic mushrooms. It quickly faded though, and she was able to get her bearings. At this point she'd completely forgotten about the website. She sat face to face with her computers screensaver. Glancing over at the clock she was surprised to see that she'd completely lost well over an hour. She quickly arose from her chair and went over to her wardrobe.

The dinner had been in planning for a few days so she absolutely wanted to look her best, despite eating in the comfort of her own apartment. Her sweats fell to the floor and she picked out a tight fitting pair of jeans, her favorite. Pulling the jeans up one leg and then the other it stopped just by her butt. She had a love/hate relationship her butt. She'd made a habit of spending half her time at the gym working on her ass, with little success. Despite countless squats and other exercises focused on her butt it was still flat as a board. Except.. it wasn't? Sara had always been well endowed in the ass department. For the longest time she'd considered it to be her most prominent feature. Admiring the sheer mass of her ass for a split moment she came back to her senses, forcing the jeans over and past her rump.

In the kitchen, Sara made a mental list of every ingredient she had to retrieve before getting started. After getting most if them from the fridge, Sara had to get the spices from the top shelf. Reaching for the oregano she couldn't help but feel that it was farther away than usual. Which was odd, she'd always been 5′1, right? Silly, looking down at her feet the realization of having forgotten her stool hit. Much better, finally having the reach to get all the spices in the world.

As time slowly ebbed away Sara made the finishing touches, setting the mood for a nice dinner as she dimmed the lights, and lit a couple of candles. Placing the final pieces of cutlery she heard the front door unlock. As per usual, Sara went to greet her loving boyfriend at the door, noticing as she walked that something was off about her chest.