HOME | DD

Description
A new series idea for Prime. Input is great. Suggestions are helpful. I might start a tip jar if anyone thinks they'd have some spare change so I can devote more time to these.

Story Follows: Wonder Date by Bahamat112

Potential Series
Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt. I fumble with the phone on my bedside, eyes blurry as they crustily open. The screen came into view. Apparently, it was show time.

You have a new assignment, Dream-Maker. Please see the details section for your incoming Night Out.

I glanced at the image and raised a brow. "Client has good taste at least. At least I've got time for a shower. Rolling off the bed, I scratch the scruff on my neck, slip into the bathroom and start the hot water. A good scrub later and the ache in my body slipped away. I'd left my phone on the sink, and it was counting down, now at three minutes.

I gobbled down a banana and a glass of OG, then brushed my teeth as the seconds vanished. For whatever reason, the program didn't fix your breath.

Initializing in 5... 3... 1... Prepare for adjustments.

The process was always a little uncomfortable. Nanites spread out inside me from a chip planted beneath the skin of my scalp. Tiny shivers and needle pricks preceded my flesh shifting before my eyes. I used to not look, but now it was like a drug. My height shrank, my hips crunched, then expanded. Curly black strands fell from my previous bald head. I learned to keep it shaved, since it just made a mess if I didn't. My skin tanned and darkened to a lovely brown sugar, and finally, large, well rounded breasts bulged from my chest. I reached up and cupped them, getting a feel for the size.

After a moment of posing, I went into my bedroom closet and checked for an appropriate outfit. The measurements were displayed in the app, so it only took a moment.

"Ahah!" I found a sleek red piece that would be just short of covering my perfectly shaped chest. A little necklace for accent, and a black top underneath to keep from looking like a total slut. The client wanted an actual date, after all, not just a tumble in the hay. Shimming into the soft fabric, I pulled it tight around my breasts, pushing them up as I looked into the mirror.

"Damn, I think these looks could actually kill." I checked the profile again. "I'm Angela Johnson, twenty years old and I love reading, writing and having quiet nights with good food and good company."

I stepped outside my small apartment, carrying a light handbag as an autocar rolled up to take me to a five-star joint that the client had picked out. It hadn't given his name, only a picture. Tall, athletically built, probably on a sports scholarship, and with a very intelligent gleam in eyes. The car slowed at the curb, and there he was, opening the door for me. He offered a hand and gently helped me out onto the street. I offered my arm, and he took it, not even looking down my top as he stood a good foot or so taller than me.

We walked up to the host and he gave the name 'Damien', before we were escorted to a lovely patio spot off the upper floor overlooking the park next door. He pushed the seat in for me before sitting down himself, quite the romantic, this one. He ordered for me, but that was perfectly fine. The Dreamer was in control, within reason. He waited after ordering, calmly gazing at me, silent.

"So, tell me about your favorite novel." I tapped my lips with a finger as I smiled. "I'd love to get my hands on some new quality material." I purposely let my gaze wander over his form. Right now, I was very much a woman, and well, the guy was totally fit.

His lips quirked as he stifled a chuckle. "I think we'll get along, Angela. If we do, you can expect a big tip."

"I'm already expecting a big tip." I licked my lips, covering his momentary break of immersion. "And I hope this won't be our last date."

Description
A new series idea for Prime. Input is great. Suggestions are helpful. I might start a tip jar if anyone thinks they'd have some spare change so I can devote more time to these.

Story Follows: Wonder Date by Bahamat112

Potential Series
Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt. I fumble with the phone on my bedside, eyes blurry as they crustily open. The screen came into view. Apparently, it was show time.

You have a new assignment, Dream-Maker. Please see the details section for your incoming Night Out.

I glanced at the image and raised a brow. "Client has good taste at least. At least I've got time for a shower. Rolling off the bed, I scratch the scruff on my neck, slip into the bathroom and start the hot water. A good scrub later and the ache in my body slipped away. I'd left my phone on the sink, and it was counting down, now at three minutes.

I gobbled down a banana and a glass of OG, then brushed my teeth as the seconds vanished. For whatever reason, the program didn't fix your breath.

Initializing in 5... 3... 1... Prepare for adjustments.

The process was always a little uncomfortable. Nanites spread out inside me from a chip planted beneath the skin of my scalp. Tiny shivers and needle pricks preceded my flesh shifting before my eyes. I used to not look, but now it was like a drug. My height shrank, my hips crunched, then expanded. Curly black strands fell from my previous bald head. I learned to keep it shaved, since it just made a mess if I didn't. My skin tanned and darkened to a lovely brown sugar, and finally, large, well rounded breasts bulged from my chest. I reached up and cupped them, getting a feel for the size.

After a moment of posing, I went into my bedroom closet and checked for an appropriate outfit. The measurements were displayed in the app, so it only took a moment.

"Ahah!" I found a sleek red piece that would be just short of covering my perfectly shaped chest. A little necklace for accent, and a black top underneath to keep from looking like a total slut. The client wanted an actual date, after all, not just a tumble in the hay. Shimming into the soft fabric, I pulled it tight around my breasts, pushing them up as I looked into the mirror.

"Damn, I think these looks could actually kill." I checked the profile again. "I'm Angela Johnson, twenty years old and I love reading, writing and having quiet nights with good food and good company."

I stepped outside my small apartment, carrying a light handbag as an autocar rolled up to take me to a five-star joint that the client had picked out. It hadn't given his name, only a picture. Tall, athletically built, probably on a sports scholarship, and with a very intelligent gleam in eyes. The car slowed at the curb, and there he was, opening the door for me. He offered a hand and gently helped me out onto the street. I offered my arm, and he took it, not even looking down my top as he stood a good foot or so taller than me.

We walked up to the host and he gave the name 'Damien', before we were escorted to a lovely patio spot off the upper floor overlooking the park next door. He pushed the seat in for me before sitting down himself, quite the romantic, this one. He ordered for me, but that was perfectly fine. The Dreamer was in control, within reason. He waited after ordering, calmly gazing at me, silent.

"So, tell me about your favorite novel." I tapped my lips with a finger as I smiled. "I'd love to get my hands on some new quality material." I purposely let my gaze wander over his form. Right now, I was very much a woman, and well, the guy was totally fit.

His lips quirked as he stifled a chuckle. "I think we'll get along, Angela. If we do, you can expect a big tip."

"I'm already expecting a big tip." I licked my lips, covering his momentary break of immersion. "And I hope this won't be our last date."