Tara the Exchange Student

The bustle of Mammopolis Transit Hub was relentless—neon lights flashed, AR displays buzzed, and the air vibrated with the low hum of technology and bodies. Tara made her way through the crowd, her movements careful, almost cumbersome, as her oversized breasts swayed heavily with each step. She pulled her jacket tighter, trying to balance the weight on her small frame. It wasn’t graceful by any means, but she’d long given up on that. Her chest, massive and unavoidable, had always dictated her movements.

As she neared the escalator, her augmented profile popped up in the air around her, her stats instantly visible to anyone who cared to look. And plenty cared. Her presence alone caused a ripple of reactions—men pulling up her public data, eyes glued to the holographic numbers next to her.

• Tara Lumen
• Age: 21
• Bra: 30NN
• Appreciation Rating: 97.3%
• Cum Tributes Received (public and online): 5,125 (all in the last two years)
• Engagements (sexual): 1,175 (all in the last two years)

Two men standing near a coffee kiosk couldn’t take their eyes off her stats. “Damn,” the first muttered, swiping his AR lens to pull up her details. “She’s been here two years, and her numbers are off the charts. Look at that appreciation rating—nearly maxed out.”

“Yeah, man, 1,175 sexual engagements since she got here. And she had what, like none before that? Girl didn’t know what she was sitting on,” the second guy replied, snickering as he sipped his coffee.

Tara overheard bits of the conversation, feeling her cheeks flush despite herself. She wasn’t used to this, no matter how long she’d been in Mammopolis. Back where she came from, her macromastia had made her self-conscious. She’d avoided relationships, avoided sex altogether for most of her life—her breasts were too much, she felt, for anyone to truly want her. But here, in this city, her body wasn’t just accepted—it was idolized. It hadn’t taken long for her stats to skyrocket once people started noticing her.

One of the men continued scrolling through her data, zooming in on her engagement metrics. “Bro, check out the timeline. She went from zero to hero. Barely any action before she landed here, and now look—public tributes, fuck sessions, all laid out for everyone to see. Bet she never imagined this back home.”

“No shit,” the second replied, pulling up a map of her tributes. "And dude, look at this. Her most tributed spot is obviously her tits—over 70% of the guys aim for them. They are like fucking bullseyes. Look at the heat map—red all over her chest.”

As the two men chuckled, Tara’s steps faltered slightly, the weight of her breasts making balance a constant challenge. She saw the usual signals as she approached the escalator—eyes widening, hands adjusting zippers. A young man directly in her path started jerking off almost immediately. "Tara, I swear, your tits make my day. You don’t mind, do you?” he asked with a shaky voice, not able to suppress his urge to stroke faster.

Tara **** a smile, trying to hide her discomfort. “No... it’s fine,” she replied, her voice uncertain. She still wasn’t used to being a walking object of public tributes, but refusing would seem rude here, where this was considered a compliment like any other. The guy grunted as he came, his load hitting the ground near her feet. She gave a small nod of acknowledgment and quickly stepped aside, wanting to move along before more followed.

As she did, another guy approached, unzipping his pants and getting right to it. His AR stats synced with hers, showing his engagement numbers climbing in real-time. “Thanks for making mornings bearable,” he groaned, finishing quickly and hurrying off to catch his train.

At the coffee stand, the two men were still engrossed in their analysis. "Look at her stats from last month alone—she’s had 90 cum tributes just walking through this hub. Her exposure here is insane," the first man commented.

The second swiped through the display, zooming into specific dates. “You think she’s cool with it? I mean, look at her history—no sex before coming here. That’s gotta mess with your head.”

The first man shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s Mammopolis, man. You either adapt, or you drown in it. And judging by her stats, she’s adapting just fine.”

Tara finally made her way to the cleansing pod, her hands shaking slightly as she activated the water jets. The cool spray washed away the cum, a brief reprieve from the intensity of the attention. She closed her eyes, letting the water calm her nerves. Since arriving in Mammopolis, her life had become a whirlwind of exposure—her body, her stats, her every move broadcasted and analyzed.

As she stepped out of the pod, her AR profile updated again, reflecting the tributes she had just received. She adjusted her jacket, trying to cover herself a bit more, though it made little difference. She was a public figure here, whether she wanted to be or not. Another day, another round of tributes.

She caught a glimpse of the two men again, their eyes still fixed on her data. “She’s definitely got a long way to go,” one said, and Tara couldn’t help but wonder if they were right. How much longer would it take for her to truly fit in here? Or was this what fitting in looked like?

With a final glance around the hub, she continued her way through the crowd, her public profile glowing brightly behind her as her appreciation rating ticked up once again.