Seeking Approval

That sounded like the kindest one, right? Wasn't she (and everyone else) on some level always seeking approval from others, anyways? Wasn't that like, one of those fundamental human things? Surely, that was fine.

Her nail made a little tapping noise as she accidentally bumped it against the screen, choosing her option. In the little corner, her miniature avatar (of course, now adorned with the gaudy, Barbie-pink acrylics), did a little courtesy, making sure to visibly wiggle her butt. Ugh.

Naturally, as today was the day where every single aspect of life, including some fucked-up magical app(?) of sorts, she only got a few minutes to stew and seethe in rage (and a building sense of well-justified panic...), trying to work out what the fuck had just happened - before there was a knock at the door. Shit!

She even said so out loud, after getting over the realization that she'd just experienced what it felt like to experience dread so intense that it made the heart skip a beat. Or feel like it did, anyways. She put her phone down and got up - looking around frantically for something - anything - to cover her nails with. Like a pair of gloves, or a blanket or - that'd look dumb.

There was another series of knocks. "Hello?", a voice called out - a familiar voice, that of her neighbor on the other side of the hall - and out of nowhere, an impulse dropped into her head with the same warning as a piano dropping from the sky.

I shouldn't make him wait.

And before she had a second to question the acute line of thinking, she'd already opened the door, mouth agape, caught like a deer in headlights.

"Oh, hey, Cindy. Thought that was you. Just got home from a protest?" he asked jokingly, before his eyes descended onto her new 'claws'. "Or, ah, salon, I guess?"

God. If there was a god, please let her fall through the floor right this second and vanish into the depths of the earth.

"Uhm, no, they- I mean, yeah. Just got back from a protest. Silly- Uh, Silitech, y'know. The- The plastic guys. Oil. Stuff.", she replied, feeling a warmth settle upon her cheeks as she stood there - only to feel another impulse momentarily pilot her brain. She pulled a smile out of nowhere, and held up her hands in front of her, palms facing Cindy. "Do you like them?", she asked, with audible hope in her voice.

It took a moment for him to formulate his response - finally it was his turn to be stunned, now by the very woman who just a week ago had given him a lecture about how he should stop using single-use plastic bags because of the plastic waste - and now had her fingertips covered in plastic.

"Uhm, yeah, no, they're nice. Pink's a good color on you.", he replied.

And just like that, at least for a lingering moment - Cindy was in heaven. The sensation was comparable to finally getting to scratch an itch that'd bothered one for a full day. A glass of water after a full day spent out in the sun. The apex of an orgasm- well, maybe not that good - but it felt ecstatic.

"Awh, thanks Chris! That's so nice of you!", she replied, stuck in that dream-like stupor for a few more moments before she snapped to - and cleared her throat. "Uhm, did you, uh - did you want anything? Is there anything I can do for you?", she added, like on autopilot.

Her phone buzzed against the table with some notification almost immediately. Shit. No, he can't know about-

"Oh, no, I was just...", his voice drifted to a less confident tone, "Uh, letting you know that I'm having some friends over later, so there might be a bit of noise. That okay with you?", he asked, his face telling the entire story of how much he was expecting for her to lay it on him, thick, which she absolutely did. He hung out with his friends so insanely fucking late whenever they came around that she couldn't sleep, let alone relax inside of her own home! No, it was absolutely NOT-

"Okay! Yeah, no problem!", she blurted out. What? No. What?

He lit up like a Christmas tree. God how she wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face-

"Oh, sweet. Thanks, Cindy. Let me know if we get too loud, okay?", he asked. Oh, she was gonna let him know alright

"I will!"

No, she realized. She wouldn't. Finally she understood what the selected punishment was. She'd been turned into some kind of yes-girl who was more worried about being liked than anything else in this world. This, of course, in addition to these dumb-ass nails! Closing the door behind her all huffy and puffy, she marched towards her phone, grabbing it firmly-

No, because then she might break a nail, so of course she picked it up like some delicate little princess. Gah! Fine, what did it want?

[Offered To Be of Service: +5% Good Girl]

How?! How did it - that didn't matter. Clearly this wasn't just some app. It was cursed, or hexed, or whatever the appropriate term was. No other app could just- just change things like this. She clicked on the notification.

Which launched the app.

Which immediately started a new game.

No. No no no no no no-

Shit! Handicapped because of her stupid claws, she did her best to carefully combine the gems, matching them with each other - doing much better than she had before, now that she had a better idea of how to hold her fingers so the nails didn't get in the way. Which slowed her down significantly, but this time, less than before, thankfully. C'mon. She almost had it. Almost.

The little buzzer of failure rang once more, making Cindy's heart drop through the floor. Not again. Not a new one. No. C'mon.

Oh. What's this?

Gain 10 extra seconds of playtime: Knock on five doors in the hallway while entirely naked.

What? No. No, she wasn't doing that. There was nothing the app could do that'd let her destroy whatever reputation she still had. Whatever fucking options that popped up could not be worse than that. Cindy looked at her options.

Ah.

Nevermind.

[Choose A Punishment]

Microskirt Mania

Aura Of Misogyny

Career Change: Stripper