Your boss

Your boss, Mr. Hartin, He's a very average-looking man who keeps himself fit and muscular. His salty and peppered hair was styled neatly, giving him a fatherly, firm appearance. "Listen here, boy. I don't care if that loser John died. I need those numbers soon. If you don't get them to me today, then I'll have to let you go," you hear him say in a stern tone. You hated this jerk for not caring about your previous life. The phone hung up as you walked over to ask for money. You couldn't believe you got transformed into this asshole daughter.

"Hey daddy." You lay it on pretty thick. "Can you lend me some cash? I need it for clothes; you know girls need them." Your new long blonde hair swayed as you lean forward, allowing your perky tits to almost fall out of your tank top.

Your new dad looks at you; he seems unfazed by your physical appearance. His cold slate eyes scan over you up and down. It's like he's seen plenty of sexy teens in his lifetime, plus you are his daughter. He sighs loudly.

He got up from his seat, took a fifty-dollar bill out of his pocket, and handed it to you. You smile and thank him profusely, kissing him on the cheek. You jump up and run back upstairs to get ready for a day of doing nothing. You look at the contacts on your phone.

You see a few names. Lacy is your best friend. Jack-your boyfriend. Katie-friend. Tyrone, your down-low fuck buddy. You knew you had to complete the demon's wishes. To gather energy to become stronger.

You are horny, and you know you have to go out and have sex. You tried to look for clothing options that would attract lots of guys.

You pick out a cute pink skirt and crop top. You think of your new boyfriend, Jack, and how you can convince him to fuck you today. The memory of what he looks like pops up. Sandy has blonde hair, is taller than you, and has a nice chiseled body from lifting weights. You felt your heart flutter like any good girlfriend thinking about her man. Then you try to push those feminine thoughts away.

Then your pussy quivers while thinking about Tyrone. The black basketball stud that you only fucked when Jack was too busy to please you. A dark eight inches that pounded your body great the last few months. He always picks up when you text.