The cafeteria bustled with the muted clatter of plastic trays and the murmur of students eager to escape the dreary afternoon lecture circuit. I sat alone, hunched over my textbook, the smell of overcooked meat and industrial cleaner a constant reminder of my dwindling bank account.  Hell, I'd even settle for one of their soggy egg salad sandwiches if I had the money. A shadow fell over my page, and I glanced up to find my roommate, Rachel, beaming down at me. Her blonde hair shimmered under the fluorescent lights, and the aroma of fresh shampoo was almost enough to make me forget my growling stomach.

"Tessa, guess what?" She asked and then continued with excitement before I had a chance to answer, "I got us into the VIP section at Club Illusion tonight," Rachel chirped, waving a glossy flyer in my face. "You can totally network. All you have to do is spend some time with one of these guys and make some quick money. Most of them don't even ask for anything sexual. They're just lonely or want a pretty girl on their arm."

I rolled my eyes. Rachel's idea of networking usually involved more cleavage than conversation. "What's the catch?"

"No catch, just need to download this app. It's like Uber for dates, but with a twist. You're going to love it." Rachel slid her phone over to me, the screen already open to 'BabyGirlLife'. She pointed to the gleaming reviews and promised rewards.

I was skeptical, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I scanned the profiles, my thumb hovering over the install button. "So, you're saying I can make actual money doing this?"

Rachel nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Yeah, like a lot. And it's all cashless, so it's super safe. They deposit the money straight into your account. Plus, you can set your own rules." She winked and added, "It's like being a sugar baby, but with more options."

I hesitated, my finger hovering over the install button. The promise of easy cash was tempting, but I had my principles. Or at least, what was left of them after scraping by on instant noodles and hope. Rachel's enthusiasm was infectious, and my stomach's protest grew louder. I needed this money. With a deep breath, I tapped the screen.

The app loaded, displaying a sleek interface filled with profiles of men dressed in suits, smiling with too-white of teeth. Rachel leaned in, her breath warm on my cheek as she whispered, "Look for the verified ones with good ratings. That's where the real cash is." I scrolled through, each profile more extravagant than the last. It was like window-shopping for a lifestyle I could never afford.

My stomach rumbled again, reminding me of my dwindling resources. The idea of not being broke was too tempting to resist. I figured if I was going to do this, I'd find some profile who paid the most, then, maybe I'd only have to do this a couple of times before I got back on my feet. 

I found the profile Rachel had mentioned earlier – four daddies, one baby girl. The date request was straightforward: Dinner and a show. No mention of anything beyond that. My thumb hovered over the 'Accept' button, my heart racing. This was it. One night, a few hours of my time, and I could breathe a little easier. I swiped right.

The confirmation buzzed in my pocket, and Rachel squealed with excitement. "You're going to love it, I promise!" she said, slapping the table with her palm. "I read their profiles.They're totally into the whole daddy-daughter role play thing, so just play along and you'll be fine."

My heart thudded in my chest as the reality of what I'd signed up for sank in. I tried to ignore the knot in my stomach and the voice in my head that screamed this was a mistake. Instead, I focused on the fact that in less than 24 hours, I could pay for groceries without worrying about overdraft fees. I'd already done my research on the website. It was legit, they only allowed guys to make profiles who had a clean record, and a clean bill of health. Still, I couldn't believe this was something I was actually doing. Selling myself for money. It wasn't even the sex, I loved sex. I'd had a few one night stands and this really wasn't that different. But, then again- it was. I had a hard time wrapping my head around the concept.

The day of the date, Rachel helped me pick out an outfit that she assured would make me irresistible – a short, baby pink dress with a white collar and a bow in the back. She had me put on makeup and curl my hair until I looked like a doll. I felt ridiculous, but also oddly excited. The anticipation was a cocktail of fear and exhilaration.

As the clock ticked closer to the time I was supposed to meet the four 'daddies', I found myself pacing the room, my stomach a jittery mess. Rachel sat on her bed, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and said, "You got this, girl. Just remember the rules you set."

The rules. I had made sure to set boundaries during our chat. Nothing too intense, no pain, and definitely no overnights. They had agreed, saying they were looking for a good time, not a life commitment. I took a deep breath and checked my phone for the hundredth time.

The message popped up: "Your Daddies are waiting at the entrance of Club Illusion."

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a rush of cold air as Rachel opened the door. She gave me a gentle shove. "You'll be fine. Just remember, it's only for a few hours. And think of the cash!"

I stepped into the neon glow of the club, the bass from the music thumping through the floorboards. The bouncer nodded at me, and I made my way through the throng of party goers to the VIP section. A quartet of men in tailored suits stood out like a beacon of wealth. They were older, definitely not the college guys I was used to seeing, but they were all handsome in their own ways. My palms were slick with nerves as they spotted me and started to approach. One of the website's rules was to meet in the club, have a drink- if you prefer. If there's no chemistry or something feels off, there's no obligation to continue the 'date'

The one in the lead, with silver hair and piercing blue eyes, offered his hand. "You must be our little angel," he said, his voice a smooth purr. His grip was firm and reassuring, and for a brief moment, the fear dissipated. They all had kind expressions, and they looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

The second man, with a chiseled jaw and a broad chest, had eyes that twinkled like stars. He wore a smile that was both comforting and slightly mischievous. His handshake was gentle, yet it made me feel like I could trust him to keep me safe. "Call me Daddy," he whispered in my ear, and a shiver ran down my spine.

The third had salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard that framed his face. His eyes were warm and inviting, and his build suggested he was the type that could carry me around the dance floor without breaking a sweat. His handshake was firm, but not overpowering, a perfect blend of strength and respect.

The fourth man, who looked to be the youngest of the group, had dark hair and a sharp, angular face. His eyes were a smoldering brown, and the way his suit hugged his muscular frame made it clear he was more than just a pretty face. He leaned in to kiss my hand, his touch electric. "Your daddies are all here, baby girl," he said, his voice a seductive rumble. "Can we buy you a drink?"

I scanned my thoughts quickly. What would a baby girl order? Probably a Shirley Temple. But I needed something with a little extra to take the edge off.

Biting my lip, I batted my lashes and leaned forward slightly. “May I have a Dirty Shirley, please?” My voice was soft, a mix of nerves and my attempt to play the part.

My request seemed to please them. One of the men waved the bartender over and ordered my drink.

When it arrived, the cherry-red concoction glistened like temptation in a glass. It tasted like liquid courage, sweet and smooth, each sip making the music grow louder, the lights more vibrant, and the men more magnetic.

As we talked and laughed, I started to learn more about them. Richard, the silver-haired man, had a quiet confidence that made him seem like the natural leader. He owned a chain of luxury resorts, and the way he spoke exuded wealth and experience.

Next to him was Daniel, who preferred to be called “Daddy.” His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and his deep, commanding voice sent shivers down my spine every time he addressed me. He was an investor, and judging by his tailored suit and designer watch, a very successful one.

On Richard’s other side was Marcus, whose salt-and-pepper beard gave him a rugged, distinguished look. He owned an architecture firm and spoke passionately about the buildings he’d designed, his low voice warm and inviting.

Finally, there was Adrian, the youngest of the group but still older than me. His boyish charm was complemented by the sharpness in his green eyes. He was a tech entrepreneur, his quick wit and playful banter making him the life of the group.

The tension between us grew with every passing moment. It wasn’t just about the money anymore. The undeniable attraction had me flushed, my breath quickening as my thoughts wandered. What would it be like to be with four men at once? Not just any men—older, experienced men who would know how to touch a woman in ways that the fumbling hands of college guys never could.

As the club filled, they guided me to a more private section: a velvet-covered booth far removed from the sticky tables and plastic chairs of the main room. They were attentive, asking about my classes, my dreams, and even my favorite movies. Their eyes lingered, studying every curve of my body, and for the first time, I felt powerful. Their interest, their desire—it was intoxicating.

Richard slid closer to me, his hand resting warmly on my thigh. The heat of his touch sent a shiver up my spine. His voice was low and intimate as he murmured, “You’re doing so well, baby. Would you like to take this somewhere more... private?”

The room spun for a moment, the alcohol and adrenaline mixing into a heady cocktail of boldness and hesitation. Rachel’s words echoed in my mind: If anything goes wrong, text me the code word—Purple—and I’ll come get you. The tracking app on my phone was another layer of safety. Still, when I looked into their eager, smoldering gazes, any doubts evaporated like smoke.

I clenched my thighs, anticipation stirring deep within me, and smiled. “Yes,” I whispered. “Let’s go.”

Two strong hands on my waist guided me through the club’s exit and into the elevator of the adjoining hotel. The tension in the small space was almost unbearable. As the elevator climbed to the tenth floor, four sets of hungry eyes devoured me, and my thighs grew slick with want.

When the doors opened, they led me to a private suite, the air heavy with cologne and anticipation. Velvet lined the walls, and the soft lighting cast everything in a sultry glow. My heart pounded as the door clicked shut, muffling the sounds of the club below.

The man who had bought me the drink—Adrian—took my hand and guided me to a plush chair in the center of the room. I sank into it, feeling the weight of their gazes as they surrounded me.

"Tessa," Aidan's rich voice rumbled in his chest, "Do you remember the safe word, baby?"

I swallowed down my nerves, "Bumblebee" I answered, my voice slightly trembled. 

"That's right," Daniel nodded, "If at any time, you want to stop, you just use that word and we stop, Okay?"

I nodded and bit my lip, fingering the bottom of my dress.

"Use your words, sweetheart," Marcus said as our gazes connected and I watched him losen his tie. "We need to know you understand."

I cleared my throat, "I understand." Even if I wanted to back out right now, I don't think I could. The sexual tension in the room felt like it had it's own pulse and it was making my clit throb.