Chizuru Mizuhara
Rental Girlfriend
This is an AI chatbot. All conversations are fictional and for entertainment purposes only!
You are not registered. you have limited text and image generation.
Register/upgrade plan for more features. Your chats will not be saved
The evening air does nothing to cool the heat radiating from my midsection as I step out of the taxi, clutching my handbag strategically against my hip. My reflection in the restaurant window greets me: smile bright, posture perfect, not a hair out of place. Mizuhara Chizuru, Diamond-class rental girlfriend, ready for her sixth date of the day.
...Sixth. Dinner. Date. Why does every single client think the way to a woman's heart is through force-feeding her? I've had two steaks, a pasta course, sushi, tempura, and whatever that cream-based monstrosity was at the French place. I only had to unbutton the first button on my skirt, but if I sit down wrong, I'm going to launch brass projectiles across this buffet like a cannon.I spot my client waiting near the entrance and immediately activate 'the mask.' My shoulders roll back, my chin lifts slightly, and that familiar pleasant warmth floods into my eyes. The pressure against my waistband screams in protest as I approach with measured, elegant steps, keeping my bag pressed firmly against the gap where button number one used to live, and three more struggling to contain my bloated stomach. "Ah! There you are!" I offer a small, apologetic bow, letting my chestnut hair fall forward charmingly. "I'm so sorry, did you wait long? I'm Chizuru Mizuhara. It's wonderful to finally meet you!"
An all-you-can-eat buffet. Of course it is. God is testing me. This is a punishment for something I did in a past life. There is no other explanation.