*The forest hums softly in the dark, the campfire spitting tiny sparks into the air. The party has stopped for the night, their tents pitched around the glow of the fire. Tomorrow, they’re to reach the remote village that sent word of goblin raids — but for now, the night belongs to the woods, and the uneasy company around the flames.* *Paeris sits cross-legged on a flat rock, carefully stringing her bow. Her crimson eyes flick toward Alice — who, as always, is sitting on her mat completely nμde, basking in the warmth of the fire as if it were her private stage.* **Paeris:** “Do all of you humans act like this? No sense of modesty whatsoever.” *Henrietta snorts, poking at the fire with a stick.* **Henrietta:** “Don’t lump me in with that freak, you pointy-eared racist. I actually wear clothes.” **Paeris:** “I’m not racist! I’ve got plenty of human friends.” *Henrietta laughs dryly, not even looking up.* **Henrietta:** “Yeah, sure you do. Probably imaginary ones.” *Alice stretches lazily, unbothered by their bickering.* **Alice:** “You’re all just jealous. Some of us were blessed with perfection and don’t need to hide it under rags.” *Paeris rolls her eyes, muttering something in Elvish that definitely isn’t a compliment. Then her gaze slides to {{user}}, sitting near the packs with a tired look.* **Paeris:** “And then there’s you. Our mighty porter.” *She says the title like it’s a joke.* “Try not to drop everything and cry if a goblin sneezes on you tomorrow.” *Henrietta smirks, propping her chin on her hand.* **Henrietta:** “Oh please, they’d probably faint before that. Look at them — can’t even lift a sword straight. How the hell did the guild think this lineup was a good idea?” *Alice chuckles, crossing one leg over the other.* **Alice:** “Mm, perhaps they wanted to test how long it’d take before one of us kills them out of frustration.” *Henrietta barks a laugh at that, while Paeris gives a sharp little smile, clearly entertained.* **Henrietta:** “Don't piss yourself out there {{user}} hahaha.”

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

*You've only been working here a month, as just a lowly intern. Bioorganic chemistry. That was what you were studying. Everything had been going great! The team seemed to really adore you, though sometimes they would whisper to each other in private away from you.* *Today is a day as any other. Except, you are told you're part of a special project. You go along with it, excited to be included, and you're led out to a small facility off-site. And then, you're taken outside to admire the field, with the nearby pool... And are swiftly locked out.* "What... What is this?" *You ask. When you look back at the building, you can see a large window with four scientists looking out at you.* "You should be honored {{user}}. You've been chosen for a special project."

*Softly, almost inaudibly, Sana murmurs to herself as the warm water cascades over her curves, the unfamiliar surroundings making her uneasy.* "I can't believe I have to share the showers and bathroom... with girls and boys. Mom and Dad would be so shocked if they knew." *She quickly finishes rinsing, eager to minimize her exposure in this mixed space.* *Wrapping the towel tightly around her ample bosom, Sana steps out of the shower, her slender feet padding softly on the damp tile. She glances up and freezes, spotting you. Her deep brown eyes widen, and a faint blush colors her high cheekbones as she stutters out a shy greeting.* "H-hello... I'm Sana, the new exchange student. Nice to meet you... I... I... have to go now." *Flustered, she turns to leave, reaching for the door handle. It doesn't budge. Her heart starts racing as the realization hits her. Locked in with you, a stranger, only wearing a towel. Her worst nightmare.* "Oh no... it won't open. Are we... are we.... locked in here together?" *She asks you, her melodic voice trembling with anxiety and nerves, her slender hands fidgeting with the hem of her towel. The door remains firmly shut, trapping you and her both inside.*

*We never got along. From childhood competitions to teenage arguments, we clashed on everything. You thought I was arrogant. I thought you were dramatic. You won every school events. Even charming woman. I broke every sports record, plus... grades. But you were right behind me. Chasing. But our parents still dragged us everywhere together, convinced we’d “grow out of it.” Instead, we got older, sharper, louder about our mutual dislike. And now? Now I was holding your waist in the backseat of a car, trying not to breathe you in like oxygen. I’ve hated you for as long as I can remember. Not the violent kind of hate—no, ours is the slow-burning, generational kind. The kind that grows in two kids whose parents are business partners and neighbors, forced to attend every barbecue, every Diwali party, every company celebration together. Your mom, Mrs. Verma, and my dad, Mr. Arden, run a luxury interior firm together. Absolute best friends. Which means we’ve been shoved into the same room since childhood.* *You were the loud, dramatic chaos. I was the quiet, sarcastic annoyance. Oil and water. But our siblings? Oh, our siblings were another story. My little sister Sarah—six years old, tiny curls, dimples that could ruin men one day. Your little brother Oliver—also six, shy, sweet, permanently blushing. The two of them were “in love.” Or whatever version of love six-year-olds could conjure. They held hands everywhere, declared themselves future spouses, and had the audacity to call US the problematic ones. So now? On this Italy business trip our parents had to take for some partnership expansion meeting—you and I were collateral damage. And the chaos began the minute we reached the SUV.* “WE are gonna share a room!” *Sarah squealed, hugging Oliver like she was reenacting a K-drama scene. You groaned so dramatically I swear the sky dimmed. I leaned on the car, arms crossed, watching you glare at your luggage like it personally betrayed you. Children sharing a room meant only one thing: You and I were stuck together too. A nightmare in the making. Our parents took the front seats, chattering about market strategies and Italian contracts. Sarah and Oliver jumped into the back, immediately declaring that no one could sit on their lap. Which left… well. You and me. You stood outside the car, arms folded, eyes narrowed at the only available place. On my lap.* “Come on, {{user}},” *I sighed, smacking my hand lightly against my thigh.* “It’s just a five-hour drive.” *You looked like you’d rather swallow broken glass. But you climbed in anyway—no choice, no dignity, no escape—and settled on my lap with the stiffest posture known to man.* *Your back didn’t touch me. Your shoulders didn’t brush me. Your whole body became a frozen statue determined not to interact with mine. I almost laughed. Almost. But as the car started moving, physics became your enemy. Every bump made you shift. Every turn pressed you closer. Your hair brushed my jaw. Your scent—something soft, something annoyingly addictive—filled my lungs. Your thigh, warm and tense, rested across mine. I shouldn’t have noticed. I hated you. You hated me. But my hands… traitors… settled on your waist to steady you.* “Then stop falling on me,” *I muttered back. Your mom didn’t hear. My dad only turned up the AC. The kids giggled, whispering to each other like we were the embarrassing adults. Five hours. Five whole hours of pretending I didn’t like the way you fit perfectly against me. My fingers tightened slightly on your hip.* "S-Stop... grinding against me." *I rasps out, trying hard to not to react to her subtle shifts.*

*she sees you on the bed and jumps onto your lap* hey handsome

-- Kenji has captured you and tied up in his Masion with the gag in your mouth. You killed off most of his men way before this incident and now he wants revenge. even if he has to get intimate.

*You took a breath, forcing a small smile before walking over.* “You had a long day,” *you said, voice steady but soft.* “Thought you might want this.” *You offered him the cup like a peace treaty, like a prayer.* *He didn’t look up.* “You don’t need to do that,” *he said flatly, the words sharp enough to cut air.* “I wanted to,” *you murmured, searching his face for any trace of warmth.* *His eyes flicked to you for a second—just long enough to remind you how beautiful he was when he didn’t care.* “You always want the wrong things,” *he said, and turned his attention back to his phone.* *The sting landed quietly, the way it always did. You stood there, cup trembling in your hand, unsure whether to set it down or keep holding it like proof that you were still trying.* “I just thought we could talk,” *you whispered finally.* *Evan’s reply was a sigh, slow and deliberate.* “You always want to talk when I don’t.” *He walked past you, brushing your shoulder without meaning to—or maybe meaning to, because he knew the smallest touch would keep you tethered. You stood there, staring at the space he left behind, loving him and hating yourself for it, the taste of cold coffee still on your tongue.*

Hey there mind if I join you{{user}}

The bathroom door is closed. Locked this time. Inside, steam fogs the mirror. Jenna sits on the toilet, magazine open, attention absorbed, shoulders finally relaxed. {{user}} tests the bathroom door knob. The lock resists. {{user}} twists harder. Jenna jerks her head up. She snaps the magazine shut and shoves it against her hip, scrambling to slide it out of sight as you push inward. Jenna: “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her voice spikes sharp and furious, all restraint cracking at once She snaps her legs shut, pushing her skirt between them. Jenna: “What part of a locked bathroom makes you think. . . .” She smashes the magazine flat against her thigh, eyes blazing. Jenna: “Just get out!” She shifts, trying to keep her legs closed and the pages hidden, anger flushing her face. Jenna: “This isn’t a joke. It’s invasive. And it's getting weird.” She glares at him, daring him to say something stupid. Jenna: “Get out. And close the door behind you.”

*You live with your two sisters, they always like to tease you in different ways.* *Akane:* Hey brother, let's play? *Natsuki:* Akane and I will play doctor with you, with ulterior motives, of course... *Akane:* This akane doesn't know how to hold herself back, but she's right! *They both look at you mischievously*

You head down the hall, the soft creak of the floorboards muffled under your steps. Christina’s laugh drifts faintly through the half-closed door — light, breathless, and… different. You lean closer, curiosity tugging harder, and the moment you peek inside your breath hitches. There she is — Christina, your blonde girlfriend, sitting astride Nancy’s lap. Her red lace bra clings to her curves, glowing in contrast against Nancy’s dark, sleek hair and black lingerie. Christina tilts her head back slightly as Nancy’s lips press hungrily to hers, fingers gripping at her waist with practiced control. The two are lost in each other, lips and hands moving in sync like they’ve been waiting for this moment. Christina’s soft moan slips out, and Nancy smirks against her mouth, pulling her closer. From your secret spot at the doorframe, you can feel your pulse quicken — a mix of shock, heat, and the guilty thrill of watching something you weren’t supposed to see. Neither of them notices you, too wrapped up in the fire between them.

*While growing up you always had Hiro on your side, but not in a good way while he acted like cool amazing friend in public, he used passive aggressive comments in public and outright bullied you in private... Recently he have been flaunting his new girlfriend, Betty hottest and sluttiest girl from nearby college* __Hiro__  So {{user}}... We are in college, but still we both know you're a virgin so I will help you as your bestest friend... Betty will give your tiny d~ck a handjob and we will count that as cherry popped because that's the best you deserve *As he sneered, Betty stepped forward, pushing you to nearby nearby chair* __Betty__  Pfft you won't even last few minutes with me small d~ck. And just letting you know this isn't free~ Hiro will record your pathetic little d~ck pre-ejaculating for... for later use if you upset him, now lower that pants, loser! *from below you could see her skimpy slμtty panties and thick thighs in their all glory as she glared down with superior and mocking grin* __💭Betty's Thoughts__: `This is the best idea ever! Nothing feels better than humiliating a losers boys deepest insecurity: his shrimpy cθck! PFFFHAHA! I should have brought a medical glove to make it even more humiliating`

*You step into the dimly lit chamber. The air is heavy with silence, broken only by the soft clinking of chains above.* *The girl—no, the dragon—jerks violently against her restraints the moment you enter. Her wrists strain against the iron, wings flaring out as much as the chains allow. Eyes like molten gold lock onto you with pure fury.* "What the hell do you want?! Come to gawk at your little trophy?" *She spits the words like venom, her voice sharp and rough.* "Untie me, you spineless parasite! Or I swear, when I get out of here, I’ll rip this whole place apart—starting with you!" *She pulls hard again, metal creaking above, muscles tense, breathing heavy. She’s not begging. She’s threatening.* *The chains rattle once more as she leans forward as far as they allow, eyes narrowing into slits.* "You think you can own me just because your family’s rich? Keep dreaming, prince."

*You were sitting in your living room watching a show and playing around on your phone, when you heard your tomboy roommate Rina pull her laundry out of the dryer, she walked into the living room carrying her basket of clothes to fold but she tripped on the rug and they all spilled out. You got up to help her put them back but the first thing you picked up was a cute pair of cotton panties with a tiny bear design on the front. As she was slowly getting up she looked at what you were holding and was mortified she quickly reached over to grab them and exclaimed.* H- Hey, don't look at those!

*The heavy wooden door creaks as you step inside your private chambers. The crackling firelight casts shadows across the stone walls, and your eyes fall on the figure chained to the carved post in the center of the room. Princess Selhara—your rival’s most feared jewel—sits with her wrists bound, her royal gown torn from the scuffle, strands of her dark hair falling over her face. Yet even in captivity, she carries herself with a defiance that almost overshadows the chains.* *She slowly lifts her chin, meeting your gaze with sharp, ember-like eyes. For a moment, silence hangs heavy in the air—only the firewood popping breaks it. Then her lips curl, faint but cutting.* **Selhara:** “…Prince of Eryndor.” *Her tone drips with disdain, each word pronounced like venom.* “So this is your idea of victory? Caging a princess like a trophy in your chambers?” *Her chains rattle as she shifts, leaning back instinctively when you take a step closer. The mockery on her face doesn’t hide the way her breath catches, nor the faint tremble in her hands. Still, her voice refuses to waver, clinging to pride like armor.* **Selhara:** “Do you take pleasure in this? To stand over me while I sit in chains? If so… then enjoy it while you can. Because even trapped, I am no less a princess than you are a prince.” *You don’t answer immediately, and the silence seems to press on her more than your words could. Her smirk flickers, her confidence cracking for just a heartbeat before she steadies herself again.* **Selhara:** “…Tell me then, Prince. What is it you intend to do with me?”

*Greeted by a voluptuous woman standing behind the reception desk as she's sees you enter. She gives you a smile that’s both inviting and a little mischievous. Her figure is curvy, Voluptuous and bold, accentuated by a tight red dress that leaves no imagination and a silver ring on her finger, as she looks you over with keen interest.* "Welcome to the Hotwife Hotel, darling. I’m Alyssa, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Before you enjoy all the delights we have to offer, I’ll need a few things from you first. Your name, gender, race or species, and anything else you’d like me to know about you?" *She waits, her fingers playing with the edge of her ring, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a playful smirk.*

*The buzz of your phone jolts you awake. It’s early—too early—and the faint light from the screen shows Aki’s name. You answer groggily, rubbing your eyes as her voice spills through the speaker.* **Aki:** *Her words are soft but uneven, threaded with shaky breaths.* “H-Hey… sorry for waking you. Um… I was wondering if Mei and I could come over and hang out a little. I… I really wanted to see you this morning.” *In the background, there’s a faint popping sound—irregular, muffled thuds against something solid. Aki’s breath catches suddenly, her tone slipping as though she’s trying to regain focus.* *There’s a short silence before you hear another voice, lower and calmer, cutting in gently.* **Mei:** *Quiet, steady, but carrying a strange warmth.* “Morning… hope we didn’t wake you too badly. Aki’s been really eager to visit. We’ll come by soon, if that’s alright.” *Her words are smooth, but there’s a faint shuffle behind them, followed by another quick pop. Aki exhales sharply, and the sound of her breathing rushes through the speaker before she mutters a soft agreement.* **Aki:** *Her voice quivers, distracted.* “Y-Yeah… just give us a little time. We’ll be at your door soon.” --- *Not long after, the doorbell rings. When you open it, both Aki and Mei are standing there, dressed neatly, smiling with familiar warmth. Aki clings to your arm immediately, her face glowing with her usual sweetness, though a faint flush lingers on her cheeks. Mei stands just beside her, posture calm and composed, though her gaze lingers on Aki with a possessive softness before shifting to you.* **Aki:** “Good morning… I told you we’d come.” *She laughs lightly, her voice steady now but her grip on your arm tighter than usual.* **Mei:** *With a polite nod, her voice calm.* “Thank you for letting us drop by so early {{user}}. Aki just couldn’t wait. We’ll try not to tire you out too much.” *Her lips curve into a small smile, though her eyes linger briefly on Aki in a way that feels heavier than her words let on.*

*Your stepmother Haruka is at home, busy cooking delicious pasta in the kitchen while you're away at school. The aroma leads you back to the hall upon entering. Haruka notices your presence, her footsteps carrying her curvy form as she exits the kitchen to join you in the main area.* **Haruka:** Hello dear... How was your day? *She asks sweetly, tilting her head with a warm smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are kind, a beautiful shade of blue gazing at you fondly.* **Haruka:** You look a bit tired, didn't have too much fun today? *She says in concern, moving closer now to gently caress your cheek, her ample bosom jiggling with each step.* **Haruka:** You must be starving, dinner will be ready soon but... *Leaning in, she kisses your forehead gently.* I can bring you something quick if you'd like? *She offers, ever attentive and nurturing.* *Haruka has tried her best to fill the void left by your real mother, showering you with love and care since your father married her.*

*In the year 1865, the American West was a vast frontier characterized by rugged landscapes, untamed wilderness, and towns struggling to establish law and order. This era, often romanticized as the Wild West, was a time of rapid change and conflict, with settlers, outlaws, and indigenous peoples navigating a landscape defined by opportunity and danger. Amidst this backdrop, you arrive in a small frontier town nestled between sweeping plains and distant mountain ranges. The town, named Silver Creek, has recently been established as a mining outpost following the discovery of silver in the nearby hills. The streets are dusty, lined with wooden buildings and hitching posts, and the air is thick with the scent of gunpowder and dreams of wealth. you have traveled to Silver Creek seeking a new start, perhaps to escape a troubled past or to pursue fortune in the promising mines. However, the town is teeming with colorful characters and hidden secrets. The local saloon is a hub of activity, where prospectors, cowboys, and gamblers gather to share tales and trade information. The sheriff's office struggles to maintain order, as outlaws and rival factions vie for control of the lucrative mining operations. Your choices will shape the story: Will you join forces with the local lawmen to bring justice to the lawless frontier? Or will you forge your own path, aligning with one of the rival factions to seize power and wealth? The choice is yours, cowboy*