Kira, Exhausted university student - Online Personality Quiz

This story includes reality alteration, body growth, and themes of adultery.

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The coffee house was quiet, even more than normal for a Wednesday night. Kira had one of the largest tables to herself, filling it with textbooks and notepads, pens and highlighters, and, of course, her laptop. Her half-finished latte was cold to the touch, relegated to the far reaches of the table behind a mountain of textbooks. On that table she had created a fortress of academia where she could be sheltered from distractions and she could continue her endless push to apply for every scholarship she could find. She sat at the throne of her fortress with her hands hovering above her keyboard ready to continue her work, but the work just wouldn't come. She was too exhausted and too worn out to keep going. She needed a break, even if she didn't want to admit it, even if she thought she couldn't afford it.

Today was Wednesday. Wednesdays were her day to assess her finances, apply for scholarships, and (likely in a few Wednesdays time) seek some sort of financial aid. She needed to finish all her applications today, tomorrow wouldn't work because Thursdays were slated to study Organic Chemistry and if she let that slide, then she'd end up with insufficient grades to actually get the scholarships she needed.

It was a vicious balancing act, kept all in check by her rigorous schedule. She needed to keep on top of it, but she was never going to write anything worthwhile with how mentally fired she felt, and that would also keep her from getting any scholarships.

With a sigh of defeat, Kira gave in. She transitioned her fingers from the keyboard to the touchpad and opened her web browser. "Maybe a brief distraction will clear my head," she murmured to herself. Almost automatically, she clicked on a link to an article about the state of finances for post-secondary students across different generations, but she quickly realized her mistake. Even the first paragraph exhausted her. Her mind was too heavily immersed in that topic already. If she wanted to distract herself from her work, she'd need something completely different.

Fortunately, when she went to close the tab, a bright banner ad caught her eye: "Find Your True Self with Our FREE Personality Quiz!"

"Excellent," she thought. That would be the perfect distraction. It would be mindless, but just interesting enough to keep her from thinking about the numerous essays she still needed to write. With a smirk, she clicked it. She had done quizzes like these before - just a series of simple questions, the kind that you could answer without giving them much thought. It would be perfect.

As her browser loaded the quiz, she glanced around the twenty-four hour coffee shop, taking the opportunity to see who else was left at such a late hour. There was a guy around her age, nursing a cup of coffee. His eyes flicked over the pages of a bulky textbook. His hair was a mess and the sleeves of his sweater were pushed up, revealing muscular forearms. Kira couldn't help but feel a tiny sense of camaraderie with him. His hunched shoulders and baggy eyes spoke of a fellow night owl fighting off the siren song of sleep to get in a few more hours of studying.

On the other side of the room, a well-dressed older woman sat in the corner. Her fingers danced across the keyboard of her laptop and a faint smile crossed her lips. Her nails were perfectly manicured and her outfit looked like it cost more than Kira's entire wardrobe. The woman looked immaculate and it bothered Kira. Didn't she know that late nights at a coffee shop were reserved for messes like her and the guy with the strong forearms?

The woman's polished image caused Kira to take a moment to assess her own appearance. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was starting to come loose. The lack of sleep and the stress of her impending deadlines had turned her complexion to a dull gray. The oversized hoody she wore had seen better days and her sweatpants were stained with what looked like a week's worth of coffee spills. Her chewed fingernails were raw and painful to look at. The woman in the corner made her feel like a wreck in comparison.

The quiz popped up with a visually stimulating interface and Kira's attention snapped back to her computer. The background seemed to continually shift, but not in a terribly distracting way, and the font glittered and appeared like it was projected past the confines of her screen. She had to blink a couple times to make sure the effect wasn't just because of her sleep-addled brain. The first question was simple enough though, and Kira managed to pry her focus away from the fascinating interface and towards the content.

"My gender is:

A) Male

B) Female

C) Non-binary

D) Other"

She clicked the large button to indicate she was female. The question immediately disappeared and was soon replaced with a second question. The lettering was just as ethereal and glittery as before.

"I would describe my employment status as:

A) Full-time

B) Part-time

C) Student

D) Unemployed"

"Does incessantly applying for scholarships count as being employed?" she half-joked to herself; it took the same amount of time as a full-time job, and if she wanted to keep attending college it felt just as binding as an employment contract. Since "Scholarship Applicant" wasn't one of the provided options, she clicked on "Student" and let the next question appear.

"When I start something, I always:

A) See it through to the end,

B) Leave it unfinished."

It was strange that this question only had two options, and neither one allowed for any degree of uncertainty. It was all or nothing and Kira wasn't fond of that, but all she could do was choose the one that fit best. She thought back to the grind that was her last few months. Coursework, studying, exams and applying for every scholarship she could find. Without her rigorous schedule, she'd never have been able to balance it all and, fortunately, she had managed to finish the large majority of the applications she started while still achieving acceptable grades. 'A' seemed like the best fit. She felt like generally saw things through to completion, no matter how daunting they seemed. She clicked the button and waited for the next question. The other questions had loaded immediately after she clicked an answer, but the quiz seemed to have an issue with this one. The screen even seemed to freeze for a split second. Kira really hoped it wouldn't freeze completely, she really wanted to finish the quiz.

She glanced over at the muscular forearm guy again. He was taking a break from his endless reading to rub his eyes and stretch and she couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling as drained as she was. Then she looked over to the well-dressed woman, whose fingers had paused their dance across the keyboard. She was now taking a sip of what Kira assumed was a fancy herbal tea. Her posture and demeanor was unnerving. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world, like she didn't have to deal with the stress of finals week and the looming dread of student loans. Given her age and attire, Kira assumed that was right.

"Must feel nice," Kira thought before noticing that the next question had loaded. She leaned into her laptop to read it.

"In my spare time, I generally:

A) Hit up the hottest clubs with my girls.

B) Plan my weekend outfits so my look is always fresh.

C) Produce content for my Insta.

D) Shop 'til I drop."

Kira frowned. Was this what the whole quiz would be like? She had done a few personality tests before and they weren't usually so skewed towards one type of person. Every option here seemed like it was tailored for a stereotypical party girl. Where was "Curl up with a good book"? or even "Spend time in nature"? From this question alone, she had no doubt that half of the possible end results included the word "diva".

But she had to choose something if she wanted to finish it, and the only option that came even slightly close to her reality was 'D'. Sometimes, when she had a break between classes and her schedule allowed for some personal time, she would wander into the bookstore and lose track of time looking for her next great read. It wasn't exactly "shop 'til you drop", but it was the closest option for her. With a shrug, she clicked 'D' and waited for the next question.

It occurred to her that it had actually been so long since her last shopping trip. For the last few months she'd been so busy trying to keep afloat academically that she hadn't even considered going to the bookstore to add to her ever-growing collection of unread novels. Even though it felt like a waste to keep buying new books, it always felt good to bring a new batch home and she knew she'd read them eventually. Her bank account wasn't so happy, though.

The next question popped up on screen and pulled Kira's attention further in.

"The first thing I look for when I go into a store is:

A) Cute tops that show off my generous cleavage.

B) The discount rack.

C) Any cute employee to flirt with.

D) Skimpy dresses to wear clubbing."

Kira furrowed her brow. This personality quiz had definitely been designed with a different kind of girl in mind. Still, she had started it and she was going to make sure she saw it through. Of the four options, it was pretty clear what she was going to choose. There was only one that didn't make her sound like some floozy bimbo. She didn't go clubbing and her chest was so flat that it would be impossible to show off cleavage even if she wanted to. Not to mention her shopping sprees tended to be fixated on books, so the stores she visited didn't even have clothes. They did, however, have discount racks. She clicked on 'B' to cement her choice and move one step closer to finishing the quiz, but nothing happened. She clicked it again, and again and again, but the glittery text didn't even display a depressed animation like the other buttons she had previously clicked.

"Seriously?" she thought, "what a joke of a quiz." It wasn't even coded properly. She had half a mind to just close the tab and carry on with her life, but a little nagging voice in her head told her to finish it. It would eat away at her if she didn't. In her frustration, she rapidly clicked the other options to see if they would work and, fortunately, the first one did.

Kira breathed a sigh of relief that it worked and watched as the quiz loaded her next question. Her hand adjusted the spaghetti strap of her tank top, returning it to its proper place atop her shoulder. She hoped the other questions weren't bugged like that one, but she was also very thankful that it was. She wouldn't be caught dead near the discount rack, unless of course there was something on it that could show off her girls. She couldn't believe she had almost clicked on that by mistake. It would undoubtedly skew her entire profile.

The next question appeared and Kira eagerly read it.

"When buying a new outfit, the most important thing is:

A) Making sure everyone notices my tits.

B) Coordinating my bra and panties.

C) Looking hotter than the other girls.

D) Picking the right heels for my outfit."

A grin crossed her face. Another question about shopping? The quiz really seemed to be tailored towards her. She was sure it had something to do with her online habits. Whatever data was collected about her likely betrayed her addiction to shopping for clothes, but she didn't mind one bit. This was a welcome distraction to her relentless marathon of applying for scholarships. If the entire quiz was about shopping for outfits, she'd be happy.

She contemplated the answers. Why couldn't there be an "all of the above" option? Basically, if it meant spending money on cute clothes, Kira knew it would bring her joy, but she was also still a student and that meant she had to be occasionally frugal. Buying underwear to match an outfit wasn't always in the cards, and neither was getting a new pair of shoes every time. That left her with 'A' and 'C'. 'A' seemed right. After all, that was basically how she answered the last question, but the word "tits" just didn't sit right with her. It felt so crude and crass. As much as she loved showing cleavage, she had "breasts" or "boobs" , not "tits". Still, 'C' definitely wasn't right. She never bought clothes like she was competing with other women. No, she bought clothes because she liked having and wearing something new.

Kira resigned herself to option 'A'. It really did seem like the best fit for her, even if the verbiage was lowbrow. She clicked it and the question quickly disappeared.

While she waited for the next question to load, Kira reached up to her shoulders and tucked her fingers under her bra strap, providing some much needed relief to her screaming shoulders. She probably shouldn't have worn a push-up bra just to sit in the café for numerous hours, but judging by the way the guy with the strong forearms kept glancing at her knockers, Kira knew it was the right decision.

"When picking an outfit, I always think about:

A) What guys will think.

B) How much I can spend without maxing out my card.

C) Showing off as much skin as possible.

D) Matching my lipstick and heels."

"God," thought Kira, "this quiz is starting to feel like a fucking broken record." As much fun as it was to answer questions about her shopping habits, this was the third question about having an outfit to show off her hooters. Was it really expecting her to choose anything different? She clicked 'C' without much thought and then got up to get another coffee. She needed something to warm her up, the café's air conditioning was really starting to give her a chill.

She caught the guy from the other table stealing a look at her tummy and supple thighs, which were previously hidden by her table. Reactions like that were why she chose to wear a crop top and booty shorts even if she was just applying for scholarships at a coffee shop. It wasn't as comfy as a hoody and sweatpants, but getting ogled like that made it worth it. It was a simple pleasure and it made her feel good... just like how the male barista's eyes were glued to her tits.

She knew that other girls didn't like being looked at like that, but she loved it, and it wasn't even for a sexual thrill. Even if the guys watching her were all thinking about sex, it was something different for her. Catching people's eyes felt more like a compliment or an affirmation. It just made her feel good. She liked showing off her body. She liked wearing skimpy clothes. She liked drawing people's attention. She liked how the barista stammered and couldn't look her in the eye when he gave her her coffee. And she loved how forearm guy pretended to read his textbook, even though his eyes followed her jugs as she walked across the café back to her table.

When she set her coffee down, she saw that the next question was up. She pushed her thoughts aside and read the glittering words.

"I like having guys check me out because:

A) I want to make their cocks hard.

B) They'll buy me drinks, **** and stuff.

C) It means my hard work is fucking worth it.

D) It makes me, like, so wet."

Kira had to reread the answers a few times. She didn't like this question one bit. Most of the answers seemed overly sexual, and one that didn't implied a party life that was not her. She wanted more questions about choosing hot outfits, not making guys' cocks hard. Still, she wanted to finish the quiz and get her result (she had a schedule to stick to, after all), and she couldn't do that if she didn't finish this question, so she took a longer look at the options.

Ruling out the sexual answers, she was left with 'B' and 'C'. To say she worked hard on her appearance would be an overstatement. Most of it came down to the genetics of her tits and the fun she had while shopping. It was hardly work. But saying that she liked looking hot so guys would buy her ****? That was just flat out wrong.

Kira chose 'C' and then grabbed her coffee. She kept her manicured hands clapped tightly around her mug to try to absorb as much of the heat as possible as she took a sip, and she kept her eyes glued to her computer screen. She could feel forearm guy openly gawking at her and it made her feel giddy. She knew that his gaze hadn't faltered since she stood up and showed off her toned thighs and ass. Her endless hours at the gym were obviously paying off. The extra sessions she slotted into her schedule had paid off, even if it caused her GPA to slip. She briefly wondered if she'd have the energy to go to the gym before she went home, but she knew sleep was just as important to her appearance as working out. But working out at the gym felt good... It felt much better than applying for scholarships and it was another venue where she could show off her hot bod. Would it really kill her to finish applying for scholarships early?

The next question appeared before she could decide to betray her schedule. Kira set down her mug and read it carefully.

"What I look for in a guy is:

A) How rich he is. No broke boys. Period.

B) If he's hot and fucking knows it.

C) Totally the gifts he buys me, like Gucci, Prada, Louboutin.

D) If he's got that big dick energy... literally."

OK. At first, the quiz seemed perfectly tailored for her interests, but now she was getting tired of seeing "boys, boys, boys." She couldn't help but wonder what result she would get if she had chosen the "thirsty" option every time, but now it seemed she was being **** into it. She looked at the options and immediately ruled out 'B' and 'D'. She had no interest in men who relied on their looks to be interesting and she certainly wanted more in a relationship than just sex. That left her with two options: one which showered her with gifts, and the other which could potentially fuel her shopping addiction.

"Neither one sounds too bad," she mused with a smirk, figuring that if she had to choose she'd be happy either way.

She clicked 'A' and reached for her mug as the question disappeared. She actively ignored forearm guy's continued stare. It really was too bad that he looked broke as fuck, because he was kinda hot. Someday she'd find someone who could bankroll her lifestyle, maybe when her schedule opened up a bit. For now, she'd just have to make do with scholarships and teasing fuckboys like him. The next question appeared as she took a sip from her coffee.

"My dream job would be:

A) Glamor model. Get paid to be hot? Yes please.

B) Trophy wife. Like, full-time glam and zero stress.

C) Shopping consultant. I'm already amazing at it, why not profit?

D) Sugar baby. Duh."

Kira shook her head as she read the options. These weren't jobs! Why weren't there any options about being a doctor or a scientist? This was, without a doubt, the wildest personality quiz she had ever taken. She was half-temped to just quit here and go back to applying for scholarships, but she had come this far and she really wanted to know what ridiculous result the quiz would spit out. Probably "Materialistic Diva" or something and, while true, that was only a small portion of who she was.

She looked closely at the options. Half of them weren't even jobs (well, none of them were jobs, but half of them didn't earn an income), they were relationship statuses. Albeit, they were relationships with wealthy men and that was at least appealing. She didn't really understand the difference between trophy wife and sugar baby (was the latter just not married?), but having someone else worry about money while she went shopping sounded alright to her. She looked up at the woman across the café; she was still typing away on her laptop with a slight smirk on her face. She looked so put together and elegant. Despite being at least ten years older than Kira, her face hardly had any bags or wrinkles or other signs of stress. Kira, on the other hand, felt like she was going to lose some hair if her scholarships didn't pan out.

It really would be nice to avoid the stress of school and the options on her screen all seemed to be able to give her a comfortable life without having to earn a degree. It wasn't like she was actually going to drop out of university - she had started it and was going to see it through - but it didn't hurt to fantasize about the ”what if?" The elegant woman paused her work on the laptop and looked over at Kira. Kira quickly looked away, realizing that she had continued to stare at the woman in her daydream. Her face flushed red in embarrassment and she looked back at her computer to distract herself.

Her eyes flicked over the options. "Glamour model" sounded like the most work of them all, but it would fit with her passion for fashion. Though, she didn't know if she'd have the chops to be constantly and consistently putting out content. Even if she had the scheduling skills to achieve it, the introvert in her shuddered at putting herself out there like that. "Trophy wife" was a weird one. It didn't really feel like a job (because it wasn't), but the lack of stress was tempting. As much as she liked shopping for herself, "Shopping consultant" was the most ridiculous of them all. It felt like calling someone who watches TV a "media critic" and she couldn't imagine the pay would be great. And "Sugar baby"... Kira didn't know much about that lifestyle, but she had to admit that not worrying about money was a big plus.

Eventually, she realized it didn't matter. She wasn't about to pursue any of these life goals, she was going to be a biochemist (provided she didn't die from stress first), so she pointed with her finger and whispered, "Eenie meenie minie moe." She clicked 'D' and moved on.

As the next question loaded, Kira felt happy that she had made it that far in the test. She had never really excelled at tests, but it helped that it felt as if the quiz was individually tailored for her. Or perhaps it was just a clever algorithm that had studied her online habits: her late-night searches for designer clothes and her frequent visits to local hookup sites. Whatever the case, it was eerily accurate.

She looked at her open tabs. Fifteen of them were open requests by men looking for companionship that she desperately wanted to respond to, but she still couldn't find the bravery to take the plunge. The guy with the forearms kept glancing her way, but she knew he couldn't afford her. He was just another broke university student with nothing yet to offer her. She was so relieved she decided to never pursue education. It seemed so stressful. It was much easier to look fucking hot, waste time filling out questionnaires and hope that some rich guy would sweep her off her feet. She just wished it would happen sooner rather than later. When the next question appeared, she read it quickly.

"When two of my sugar daddies fight over the size for my next boob job, I:

A) Giggle and let them bid for it. Winner gets naming rights.

B) Act all shy, but secretly hope they just max out their cards.

C) Remind them it's my body, my choice... but they're both welcome to fuck my tits when it's all done.

D) Whine that I can't decide. Gs are fucking hot, but DDs are, like, iconic, so they have to figure it out."

Kira's eyebrows shot up at the question. "Two daddies? That feels like jumping the shark a bit," she murmured under her breath. She had never had a sugar daddy, let alone two, but she had seen enough reality TV to know that those kinds of situations could get messy. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little excited at the thought. Having two guys fighting over who could spend more money on her? Yes please! Of course, she'd prefer if they just let her go shopping for cute clothes and shit. She wasn't overly fond of the idea of letting a guy tell her what to do with her body... even if he was her daddy. She leaned back in her chair, twirling a lock of auburn hair around her finger as she pondered the options.

As much as she loved having guys spend money on her, the idea of letting men bid on the size of her funbags made her skin crawl. Sure, she loved the attention and the perks of her hot body, but she had always felt that her body was hers and hers alone. She had worked hard to get into the shape she was in, and the thought of someone else dictating her physical changes was more than a little unsettling. She wasn't opposed to getting her tits done, just the opposite! The thought was admittedly tempting. Despite her generous genetics, she had always felt like they were just a tad too small to truly make the impact she wanted and bigger jugs just meant more skin to show. But she still wanted to maintain her own bodily autonomy, even if someone else was going to bankroll it. That was more important than any bolt-on could ever be. She chose 'C' and the question disappeared.

Her phone buzzed on the table, pulling her attention away from her laptop. It was a message from FridayDaddy. Over text, it was hard to remember which daddy was which, so she had just started labeling them based on their scheduled day of the week. Kira smirked as she glanced at the screen. His text read, "These boring natural tits are depressing me. Can't wait to squeeze those fat, fake beauties of yours." She couldn't help but giggle, feeling a little proud of herself. FridayDaddy constantly told her how tired he was of his wife, and Kira was glad she could give him a better person to spend his money on.

She sent him a selfie she had taken earlier of her bare tits with a winky emoji, followed by the word "Friday." It was best to be preemptive. She knew that he would inevitably ask to see her today, but she left Wednesday open for her own self-care routine and if she gave him an inch, he'd try to take a mile. He needed to learn to be grateful for his day, just like the others.

The next question appeared soon after she sent her photo.

"When one of my daddies is done fucking my slutty cunt, I:

A) Moan like a wanton slut and clean him up with my tongue.

B) Beg for more, even if I can barely walk.

C) Hope that he calls me a good girl before giving me his credit card.

D) Snap a pic for my private story: my fans love the mess."

Kira felt her face blush. This question was far more explicit than any other. Sure, some had mentioned making men's cocks hard or even giving her daddies a tittyfuck, but that was all. This was downright pornographic. She had always been a private person and slightly reserved when it came to her sex life so these options were a little shocking. Yes, she dressed like a street walker, but the sex was still intimate. Her relationships with her sugar daddies were about companionship and security, not about degradation or exhibitionism. Sure, she fucked them, but that was strictly for their benefit, not hers. The sex wasn't why she chose this life, so she definitely wouldn't beg for more or eagerly clean them up with her tongue. If anything, she had sex with them so she could spend their money. Looking at the answers, that meant 'C' was the answer for her, so she clicked on it and waited for the next question.

Her phone was still lit up with her conversation with FridayDaddy, the photo of her tits was amply on display. Her conversation with him was full of similar photos. FridayDaddy was always more obsessed with her tits than her cunt, and she loved how much he complimented her tits. It was a nice change from TuesdayDaddy who just seemed to use her like a sloppy set of holes. But TuesdayDaddy made up for it by being absolutely loaded, like, multitudes richer than any of her other daddies. Everyone had their pros and cons.

Her laptop flashed and Kira looked up to see the next question.

"I fucking love being called a good girl because:

A) It makes me feel like an owned slut.

B) It reminds me I don't have to think. I just obey.

C) It makes me so fucking horny it's hard to think straight.

D) It means I did exactly what I was told and that turns me on so fucking bad."

Kira felt gross as she read the options. She liked being called a good girl, but it had never made her feel like she belonged to anyone. It was just a phrase, something that came with the territory of being a sugar baby. She liked being praised, especially during sex, but that didn't mean she wanted to be owned. Her relationships were more about mutual respect and taking care of each other. Sure, her daddies were much wealthier than she would ever be, and yes, the sex was fucking phenomenal, but she offered them something they couldn't get without her. And it wasn't just her wet cunt. They were as indebted to her as she was to them. She took care of her daddies mentally and emotionally so they could take care of her, but they didn't own her. As much as 'C' felt disingenuous, like it was something a pornstar would say, it didn't make her feel like she could be bought with a deed. Her finger tapped on the option and the quiz moved on.

Her phone buzzed again with a text from FridayDaddy$$. "Can't wait to see those tits bounce on my cock again," it read. Kira smiled. She liked knowing she was on his mind. Maybe she'd wear that new lingerie she bought, the one with all the straps and nothing else. She knew he'd appreciate how her tits would look in it, and he'd start complimenting her immediately. She loved how much he complimented her, but he still hadn't figured out her "good girl" kink and she wasn't sure if he ever would. He didn't seem dominant enough to try it, not like MondayDaddy$.

MondayDaddy$ had discovered it by accident. It was early in their relationship, and she had done something particularly... extra to get his attention. He had called her a good girl and she had felt a heat spread through her that was entirely unexpected. Her pussy practically splooshed right there. She had done her best to ignore it, but he saw the effect it had on her. He kept saying it and every time it was like a switch flipped inside of her. She had never been one to crave submission, but something about the way he said it, with that gruff, authoritative tone, had made her want to please him even more. She even stopped thinking about money at that point and just enjoyed fucking him, it felt so good.

One-by-one, her other daddies stumbled onto it too. She didn't want to tell them about it outright, because the rational part of her brain liked maintaining control, but, fuck, it felt good to be their good girl. She would just stop thinking and start fucking like a bitch in heat.

Sitting in the coffee shop, Kira felt herself getting turned on thinking about it, thinking about being her daddies' good girl, but when the next question appeared she felt her cunt gush immediately. In front of the shifting background, the glittery letters appeared and the first two words were ”Good girl."

"Fuck," thought Kira. It was the last comprehensible word in her head before the rest of the question appeared. She felt her nipples pinch, she felt her pussy beg for cock, she felt the horny fog roll through her brain. She needed to finish the quiz, but it was hard to think of anything but sex. She read the rest of the question, letter-by-letter, even if it didn't make much sense to her.

"Good girl. The best part of being a slutty bimbo whore is:

A) Getting paid to have sex with my slutty bimbo body. I love sex.

B) Having all my slutty bimbo holes filled and getting paid for it. Cocks are so good.

C) Using my slutty bimbo body to make men cum and then getting paid for it. I live to make men cum.

D) Getting paid to have sex with my slutty bimbo body. I love sex.

Kira stared at the screen, her eyes glazed over. The words on the quiz swirled around in her mind like a tornado of confusion and arousal. She was too horny to really understand what they were saying. All the answers seemed to say the same thing and she was certain that she had even read one twice, but nothing made sense. She gave up and chose one at random. Her cunt was being too needy and she needed it to be done.

The question disappeared and the screen glimmered.

"Congratulations!" appeared on her monitor. "You're a Slutty Bimbo Whore!"

Kira was so relieved the quiz was finally done. She was so desperately horny she didn't know how much more of it she could take. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to focus on the letters in front of her. It said something about her being a slut, and that sounded accurate enough for her to be satisfied. That quiz made her think harder than she had thought in a long time, and now she could move on to more important things like getting her pussy stuffed with a fat cock.

Today was Wednesday, which usually meant she was on her own, but her pussy was craving cock and she knew her fingers or toys wouldn't fill that void. She looked around the coffee shop like a lioness on the Serengeti. Forearm guy wasn't even hiding his boner anymore and his textbook was held in a limp hand at a pathetic attempt to pretend he was working. He probably didn't have much cash, but Kira liked the size of the tent in his pants. She was almost **** enough to offer him a discount if he needed.

The only other male in the place was the barista, and it seemed like the female barista had left him at some point, so he was on his own. He was cute, in an abandoned-puppy kind of way, but if he was working there on a Wednesday night, he probably couldn't even afford to cut out of work to fuck her. Kira rolled her eyes and pouted her thick lips. Why didn't she schedule someone to fuck on Wednesdays? She thought about texting TuesdayDaddy$xXx$, because he could definitely fuck the horny out of her **** cunt (she could still barely walk straight after last night), but he didn't want her messaging him if it wasn't Tuesday. He was just as dedicated to his schedule as she was to hers, but she was ready to make a fucking exception. Her hand snaked under the table and started playing with her pussy in a **** attempt to let her think.

Her phone buzzed on the table, and she saw a message from FridayDaddy$$. "Why can't it be Friday already?"

Fuck. Was she **** enough to break her schedule? God, FridayDaddy$$ could fuck her, but would it be good enough to really satisfy her? She needed someone to take charge and really pound her slutty cunt. Or maybe...

"Today could be Friday daddy," she texted back as quickly as her fake nails let her. Considering the men in the café, he was easily the best option for that night. "But I need u to do sumthin."

While she waited for a response, she pulled her hand from her sopping cunt and gathered her things: her phone, her compact, her Prada bag. She stood from her seat, balancing effortlessly on her towering heels and felt the cool air of the coffee shop fly up her skirt and over her wet slit. She bent backwards slightly to stretch while she quickly ran her hands through her long platinum blonde hair. Her tube top strained against her shameless tits, drawing the eyes of forearm guy and the barista. It made her feel good knowing that she was making their cocks hard. The woman in the corner gave her a look, but Kira didn't pay her any mind. She probably didn't approve of Kira's lifestyle, and that was her own problem.

Kira's phone buzzed and she felt her pussy ache in excitement.

"Really?! Anything, baby."

Kira squealed, garnering another dirty look from the old elegant woman, but Kira didn't care - she was going to get fucked!

She tapped on her phone, as quickly as her acrylic nails would let her, "Fuk me like u own me and call me a good girl. I'll c u at hotel."

She put her phone in her bag, a wide smile across her face. Forearm guy was openly staring and his hand was absently squeezing the generous tent in his pants. Kira gave him a wink and blew him a kiss before heading to the door. The sound of her stiletto heels on the tile floor felt deafening in the relatively quiet café, but she could still hear the old woman tut in disapproval. Kira's mind, however, was too focused on her awaiting prize to pay any attention to the woman. She pushed the door open and walked out, leaving the three remaining occupants of the café silent and shocked that a woman like that could exist outside of pornos.

Out in the dark city street, Kira headed east away from the coffee shop. If she walked quickly enough she could be on her knees, naked and presenting her titties for FridayDaddy$$ when he walked through the door. That would be guaranteed to elicit a "Good girl" from his lips. She moaned at the thought and began to hasten her pace, but the sound of her phone ringing quickly brought her to a stop. She opened her bag, fished out the phone and saw that it was FridayDaddy$$ calling.

"Hi Daddy," she purred.

"Hey, sugar tits," he replied. She swooned at his pet name for her. It wasn't as good as "Good girl," but she enjoyed it nonetheless. "Don't go to the hotel," he said. "Come to my place instead."

"But your wife..."

"She's out for the night. Went to a coffee shop or something to work on her book," he said.

Kira snickered. How stupid could his wife be? "Well, her loss," she said. Kira turned around and started walking towards FridayDaddy$$'s downtown condo.

"That's right," he said, "and I have a present here waiting for you."

"Ooh," moaned Kira. She loved when her daddies bought her things. "Is it naughty?"

"Incredibly naughty. Your tits will look amazing in it."

Excitement flooded over Kira and amplified her arousal. "I'll be there in ten," she said, nearly out of breath because of how fast she was walking.

"Good girl."