The day began with Abigail rustling through the sheets of her bed, vying for her phone as the alarm blared. Her long brown hair was knotted and unkempt after another night spent tossing about, and the soft cotton covers were dewy and damp. She had just begun to adjust to the heavy workload of a full five-course college semester, and desperately relied on her Google calendar to tell her what to do each day . As she fumbled listlessly with the Lock Screen and Do Not Disturb function, a barrage of new notifications began to pour in:
* *You have 43 new messages on SitCity app!*
* *You have 52 new friend requests on SitCity app!*
* *You have 17 requested appointments to confirm on SitCity app!*
* *WOW! You’re really hitting it off on SitCity app! Click here for a VIP one-time offer, available only to you (for being such a good girl)…*
Last night’s debauchery came flooding back, along with a mixture of shame and embarrassment that usually (and quite inevitably) followed an evening spent drinking red wine. She faintly recalled downing half the bottle without so much as a bite of food, simply for the liquid courage that seeped into her veins. Abigail’s cheeks burned hot as she realized all too quickly what she had done in the hours prior to her slumber, preparing her glassy unfixed gaze once and for all on the screen in front of her.
Her initial objective in downloading the SitCity app – a babysitting finder app with a special focus on servicing single, full- and part-time dads who were willing to pay extra for, well, extras – was to supplement her sparse income. Between gig apping and a full time job waiting tables, paralleled by a jam-packed class schedule, Abigail was still scraping by paying off student loans per semester. Barely staying afloat… although her weekly receipt from Whole Foods would perhaps have you thinking differently.
She had heard about the app through an older friend of hers, who rarely seemed to be hurting for money and couldn’t be more direct in saying so. “It’s set up to where dads in the local area can request services from temps or nannies…. who are, like, open to exchanging other services. So like, combining child care with a happy ending, and they’re all vetted same as the girls of course,” she would assure Abigail, clicking her acrylic nails against the screen of her phone rapidly while abusing the business end of a vape pen.
Abigail certainly didn’t mind the idea of being offered up in that way; as a matter of fact, she took great pleasure in proving useful for a variety of reasons. Mostly, though, she relished any opportunity to prove how good she was at sucking and fucking. Despite how young she was, she considered herself very mature in the ways of pleasing men. It was simply an added bonus that she could be paid for what she had to provide.
Earlier last night, her curiosity finally reached a tipping point when she messaged her friend for the link. It couldn’t be downloaded from the App Store; it had to be shared by a current, verified Sitter. To Abigail’s surprise, the first prompt the SitCity app gave her was to identify her preferences. She was already attracted to dads naturally, and the questions seemed to assume that, although they wanted specifics:
1. **What sounds better: an unassuming, aloof father figure, or an intentionally punitive Daddy Dom?**
*Unassuming.*
2. **Do you prefer kind-hearted criticisms or merciless punishment from a superior?**
*Kind-hearted.*
3. **Pick which describes you best: neurotic and naughty, or reserved and bashful?**
*Reserved.*
She felt a bit vanilla about her responses, but it seemed to make the most sense to tilt the algorithm a bit in her favor if she wanted to be treated with class. Besides, the app had built-in security features that would constantly monitor the nanny or sitter through a non-negotiable webcam. This device was provided – and completely paid for – by the app’s LLC.
The app would track the sitter’s location tentative to the reception of the area, as well as vitals (if connected to a smartwatch) and an abbreviated safety rating. At any point in time, a sitter could alert the app of any foul pay through virtually any connected device. She felt more than safe, even when the survey began to take a solid turn:
19. **What turns you on more, being forced to drink from your employer’s urine stream or getting penetrated anally on top of a public urinal?**
*Forced to drink urine.*
20. **Do you cry and shout when you’re in pain, or are you mostly silent?**
*Cry and shout.*
21. **If you were being held against your will, would you try and befriend your captor in an attempt to gain trust or fight desperately for a way out at all costs?**
… What in the kinky f***? *Prefer not to answer.*
22. **You have three choices: a flowing pastel sundress and cotton underwear, a ruffled leotard with a pleather skirt, or a pair of Jean shorts and a single-layer tank top. Which would you choose?**
*Sundress.*
Finally, the survey ended and she was asked to upload her ID, along with a selfie and some other supporting documents. Her bank account information was last, and it didn’t take long to be granted verification.
By this point Abigail was 2/3 into a well-aged cabernet, and feeling the consequences. She disrobed herself in front of the full-length mirror and opened the camera on her phone, blinking the screen back into focus. Her long, natural brown hair fell down in soft tendrils across her chest, and she pushed it aside to reveal underneath. She had thought it best not to worry over “dressing up” her look in the beginning… Men ought to know what they are getting out of the box, before it’s all dressed up and accessorized.
Her small, lithe figure lit up in the florescent flash, showcasing small tits and puffy, tender-looking nipples. She turned her hip in towards the lens slightly to contrast the photos with her oversized bottom and firm, athletic thighs, making sure to angle in the freshly waxed Brazilian she now needed paid for. In the last few, she lowered the camera and pointed the lens up towards her mound, adding her index finger to the center frame as it traced along the folds around her clit. The heat between her legs was growing, and she stuck her tongue out as her head rolled back with intense pleasure.
Afterwards, she sifted through the pictures and was met with a sudden flush of humility that surged hot through her veins. Her pussy lips were puckering out from between her legs obscenely, glistening with little beads of moisture; her ribs shown slightly and her skin was pale and gothic-looking. In one of the pictures, her usually beautiful green eyes looked daft and her classic beauty seemed warped and twisted by the grotesquely vulgar poses she had decided on. She quickly uploaded them into my SitCity profile, adjusted the bio and location distance, and hit confirm. Not long afterwards, sleep had claimed her.
Upon finding her footing the next morning, several realities hit at once. For one, the email regarding her NDA, along with a copy of the contract she had signed last night at roughly 10:16pm. It didn’t look good; as Abigail’s sober eyes poured through each damning detail, the notifications continued to roll in, and she viciously swiped them from her screen. A pit began to grow heavier and heavier in the center of her stomach, threatening to give as she read aloud:
*”…. whereupon a Sitter decides to relinquish their Contract, they must find a worthy substitute to take the place of servicing their Superiors. This transference of clientele will take place seamlessly within the platform, and Sitters will be notified immediately of their revised schedule within 12 hours of signing their employee agreement packet… It cannot be ensured that the clientele acquired through this transition will meet the compatibility requisites of the initial Sitter intake survey, however the Sitter may find a suitable replacement if they prove inadequate to meet the needs of the clientele.”*
Abigail was experiencing quite a bit of panic in these moments of fragile comprehension, rereading and reading once more the same paragraphs and lines of text as if they would take on a new meaning the third or fourth time around. She sifted back to the more recent email, which had mentioned an NDA; already signed.
*Hey, it’s SitCity… We haven’t heard from you in a while, do you mind checking in? You have ten seconds.*
[Hi there! Like what you read? DM me!]
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uh8ks2/sitcity_the_allpurpose_dating_app_for_dads_free
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