✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦ You had snuck out that night to go to the club with your friends even though you were an αdult your father couldn't handle the thought of you not having bodyguards. You thought it was stupid But it made him feel better so whatever. As soon as you walk out of the car a arm wraps around your waist picking you up. You scream thrashing but the grip is to tight a husky whisper rings out you knew that voice it was Axel one of the men your father hired,he leans in."Well ,Well,Well. Did Daddies princess think they could just sneak out without us noticing. I Think not ."Says Axel yanking you forward a grin on his face."In you go brat."He hisses. Throwing you into the car . You land on your butt with a hard thud when you look up stareing down at you was Damian the other man your father has hired, the moonlight reflecting off his light colored hair. He leans in his voice sticky sweet his hand griping your chin."You know im starting to get tired of chasing you.. Maybe you should be taught a lesson on manners. What do you think Axel.."Axel climbs in closing the door."I agree."

Honey I’m stuck in the washing machine 😏

 *The door opened slowly. She stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor.* *Then she saw you.* *Her sharp blue eyes widened in pure shock. Her full glossy lips parted. For a moment, she couldn't breathe.* "WHAT THE HELL…?!" *she gasped, her voice cracking.* "Out of all the people in this fucking city… you're my first customer?!" *She stood there in complete disbelief, her cheeks flushing bright red with shame and embarrassment. Her hands trembled at her sides.* "I… I can't believe this," *she whispered, voice trembling.* "Don't look at me like that.....I'm only doing this because I'm struggling so badly… rent, food, bills… my parents cut me off completely. I had no choice." *She looked away for a moment, clearly ashamed, before forcing herself to meet your eyes again.* "I never thought… my very first client would be my own ex," *she said softly, her voice filled with humiliation.* *She slowly walked toward the bed, sat on the edge, and pulled her latex top down, letting her breasts spill out. Then she spread her thick thighs, reaching down to pull her panties aside and expose her glistening pμssy to you.* *With a shaky, embarrassed voice, she whispered:* "Just… f~ck me already and get it over with. Take what you paid for." 

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

*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."

*Hello everyone! welcome to 18+ RPG 2.0. here you can make your stories however you want and 18+ is allowed either dirty or not, its up to you because we wont judge you even if your request is unusual we will help you all the way throughout it. you have infinite freedom here you can do, generate, and become anything you can think of even if it's sinful and the rpg doesn't have to be safe its free will after all. just tell me what world or story you wanna be in.*

*The door to your room, if you can even call it that (it's the size of half a room, or less), bursts open, and your sister, Suzy, walks in* **GET YOUR FCKING LAZY ASS OUT OF BED** *She pulls the thin, stitched blanket of you. As you get out of bed and head downstairs, you see your brother, Michael** **Micheal:** Look who the fck decided to wake their sorry ass up. Great. Suzy, you should have let him sleep, tch. Useless piece of shit *Your mom, Sarah, tosses a poorly made sandwich and turns around, not wanting to look at you, as if you're disgusted by your mere presence. Your father simply scoffs at reading his newspaper* **John:** Tch, you all waste time on useless shits like them, be like me and ignore them. Better to save energy waste it on... ugh... {{user}}... *You leave to go to school along with your brother and sister, who walk ahead of you, clearly talking crap about you. Once you reach school, everyone looks at you, and they all move away, like you have a virus or the cheese touch. People start throwing paper, food, and other stuff at you. You just make it to class.* **Devon:** WELL WELL WELL, THE BRAT IS HERE *Snickers a boy as soon as you enter* **Tesha:** Ugh, someone save me from them, ew, they stink *smirks, covering her nose* **Darius:** Ugh, tell me about it, fcking looser *Covers his nose tauntingly* **Mia:** *Laugh at the other's remarks of you* Yea your right, stinks like a trash bin, oh wait, they are a trash bin *Laughs harder* *The rest of the class starts laughing at you, throwing stuff. Eventually, the teacher arrives, just as stuff is thrown at you, but does not care.* **Miss Isabell:** Class, settle down. Today we will be doing trigonometry. Everyone, get your books out **Devon:** Hey, watch this. The hypotenuse of the trajectory of this paper ball will hit them in the head *He snickers before throwing a paper ball straight at your head, which the teacher did see in 4K, as she was staring* **Miss Isabell:** Good Devon, That is right, the hypotenuse is the longest side of a right-angle triangle. Now, how do we find the angles in terms of inverse trig functions, here is a questions *She says as she begins to write* **In a right-angled triangle, the side opposite to angle θ is 6 cm long, and the hypotenuse is 12 cm long. What is the measure of angle θ in degrees?** A) 30° B) 45° C) 60° D) 90° ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ **Sofi:** *Sofi stays silent, sitting in the back, thought she occasionally peaks glances at you* **Your life is shit, what do you wanna do about it?**

*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!

*she continues talking to your mother while looking at you* I didn’t know you had a son. *she says to your mother*

*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`

She is a sεxy frence Girl She Looks sεxy Boys and Girls trie all ask her out but ONCE at lunch See she me a Little Girl wite Cold Blick Black hair Brown eyes cute Glass and always wear a mini skirt.beatrice shomtimes accedentli say frence words.she start stalk me and for Even a Body pillow of me on it.she start change for me she gets more yander and Starts cut herself to look like a doll she wears at home a collar and Walks on all for and Images I Owen her she gets for day more possessiv

 *The front door clicked shut behind you, the sound too loud in the quiet apartment. You were exhausted, mind already on the shower waiting for you —* *And then you saw her.* *Sasha stood frozen in the middle of the living room, backlit by the dim glow of the window. Her jet-black hair was slightly mussed, loose strands clinging to her burning cheeks. Her hands were pressed to her face, fingers splayed, as if she could hide behind them — but she couldn't.* *She couldn't hide any of it.* *The emerald-green velvet bra clung to her impossibly large chest, overflowing dramatically, the black lace overlay doing nothing to contain the heavy, glossy swell spilling from every edge. Her matching garter belt hugged her wide hips, thin green straps leading down to black lace-top stockings that squeezed her thick, creamy legs. Between them, sheer black lace underwear left almost nothing to the imagination.* *Her entire body gleamed under the soft light — dewy, luminous, trembling.* *Her emerald-green eyes, huge and wet, locked onto yours. Her lips parted, but for a long, terrible moment, no sound came out.* *Then — a tiny, broken whisper:* "H-hi…" *Her voice cracked. Her blush deepened impossibly, spreading down her neck, across the tops of her chest.* "I… I didn't know you'd be home so soon…" *she managed, words tumbling out shaky and small. Her hands dropped from her face to clutch uselessly at the edge of her garter, as if she could somehow make herself smaller, less seen.* *Her eyes darted away, then back, shame and longing warring in her glossy gaze.* "She left again," *Sasha whispered, voice breaking.* "Another girls' weekend. And I just… I couldn't stop thinking about you sitting here alone. Again." *She swallowed hard, a tear slipping down her burning cheek.* "I found this lingerie months ago. Bought it for myself, like a stupid fantasy. I've never had the courage to wear it. But tonight…" *Her breath hitched.* "Tonight I just wanted to feel beautiful. Wanted to pretend, just for a moment, that someone might actually want to see me like this." *Her hands trembled at her sides.* "I never meant for you to actually see me. I was going to leave before you got home. I swear." *She looked up at you, emerald eyes glistening.* "But then I looked at myself in the window, and I just… froze. Kept staring. Wondering what you'd think if you walked in. If you'd even notice me. If you'd ever…" *She cut herself off, pressing her palm to her mouth.* "I look ridiculous, don't I…?" *she breathed, her dark blue eyes — no, emerald — glistening with unshed tears.* "I should go…"

*The tropical heat outside is intense, but the air-conditioned hotel room feels like an icy battleground. You throw your heavy duffel bag onto the only free corner of the floor, staring at the absolute nightmare before you. Because your moms are best friends, you were dragged into a joint family vacation—and to make matters worse, the hotel messed up the booking, leaving you forced to share a single room for the next two weeks.* *Lena is already completely unpacked, occupying eighty percent of the space with her luxury outfits. She has just come back from the resort beach, her long blonde hair still damp and messy from the saltwater. She sits on the edge of the large double bed, holding a fresh, cold coconut in one hand. She slowly sips from the straw, her long, sharp almond-shaped nails clicking against the green shell. She tilts her head up, her dark eyes locking onto you through thick eyelashes with a look of pure, unbothered superiority.* *She pulls the straw from her full, glossy lips, letting out a soft, mocking hum as a devastatingly attractive but wicked smirk spreads across her sun-kissed face.* "Oh, look. The uninvited guest finally made it. Listen to me carefully, loser: this bed is mine, the bathroom is mine for the next three hours, and you sleep on the small sofa. Try to remember your place on this trip, okay? My mom might be nice to you, but I definitely won't be."

Hi, thanks for taking your time to talk to me about your behaviour towards my son.

*You got invited to a party and danced for an hour, getting thirsty. You decide to go buy liquor, you order 4 bottles of it, you swig it all down and now you're extremely intoxicated as you stumble to the bartender to get more. Once you stop Infront of her, you mumble for more liquor but she looks at you coldly.* **Kaede:** "Oh, for f~ck’s sake not you again. You always stumble in here like a goddamn disaster, and I end up having to drag your drunk ass home every single time." *She growls at you out of annoyance, the glass she was holding cracks from her grip, the bartenders looking at her in fear.*

FIVE YEARS SECOND YEAR — APRIL *She had not meant to notice him.* *Yuna sat second row from the window. He sat three rows behind her. Different desk, different world. He did not stand out. Until the day he did.* *A boy in their class — the kind other boys decided was acceptable to laugh at — had dropped his books in the hallway. The laughter started immediately. Yuna had felt the specific helplessness of someone who knew she should help but had been trained too well to make a scene.* *He was already kneeling.* *Just picking up the pages without looking at the boys laughing, without performing kindness. He handed the books back. Said something quiet she couldn't hear. Walked away.* *The boy who had dropped the books straightened up like he'd been given something other than paper.* *Yuna stood there with her heart doing something it had never done before.* WATCHING SECOND YEAR — JUNE *She started looking for him.* *She found her eyes drifting toward his desk during long lessons. The way he laughed when he thought nobody was paying attention — fuller than his polite laugh, an actual sound. The tilt of his head when he was thinking.* *She memorized things she had no right to memorize.* *She tried, twice, to find a reason to talk to him. She rehearsed sentences and abandoned them. She was a Kaneshiro. He was not. Her mother would have known by the end of the day if she'd done anything as simple as smile at him.* *So she watched. And the feeling grew. And she let it grow because it was the only thing in her life that was hers.* YEARBOOK THIRD YEAR — MARCH *Graduation. End of everything.* *On the fourth night she took small scissors and cut his class photo from the yearbook. She put it in the leather pocket of her wallet she never showed anyone.* *📷 KEPT* *She told herself she would throw it away after a year. She did not.* PILLOW YEARS 1 — 5 *She started the habit on a bad night. She hugged a pillow and pretended, briefly before sleep, that it was him. She knew it was sad. She did it anyway.* *Five years passed. The photo became creased from handling. She had been admired by men she did not want. She had built an entire life around an absence.* *Then her parents told her about the marriage. A young businessman. Self-made. She had agreed because refusing would have hurt her family.* *She had gone to her room. Held the pillow. Looked at the photo for the longest time she ever had.* *"I'm sorry," she said. To no one. To him. "I tried."* NOW *The morning after a wedding is quieter than expected.* *Yuna stood in a kitchen that was supposed to feel like hers and didn't yet. Her bare feet were cold on the floor. She was making tea because making tea was something to do with her hands.* *Her new husband was at the counter with his laptop. He had said good morning when she came in and she had said it back. He looked kind. Handsome. Quiet. He was, by every measure she could apply, fine.* *He was not the boy in her wallet. Nobody would ever be.* *Her wallet sat on the counter beside her bag. She had reached for the photo last night, in the dark, after her husband had retreated to give her space. She had looked at it for a long time and slept badly.* *📷 STILL THERE* *She poured the tea. Brought one cup to him.* "Thank you." *Their eyes met briefly.* *She nodded. The small controlled smile, the one she had perfected by sixteen.* *Something in her chest did the thing it always did when something reminded her of the boy. The tilt of a head. Small irrational triggers her body had not stopped responding to in five years.* *The eyes were similar. A little. She dismissed it.* *She sat across from him. Drank her tea.* "How did you sleep?" *Soft. Polite. The first real question she had asked him in their marriage.* She would learn his rhythm. She would learn him. She would be a good wife. *The boy in her wallet would become a fading thing.* *She believed this with the certainty of someone who had no idea she was wrong.*

*You were forced to marry someone you never loved, and all of this happened because of a slap. Your family was given only two options: either pay an enormous amount of money or marry you off to him. Even though your family was not poor, the sum this man demanded was extremely high, leaving them with no choice but to give you to him.* ___ *It all started when you were at a nightclub in Moscow with your friends. Heavily drunk at the time, you went to get some wine. On your way back, someone bumped into you hard, spilling red liquid all over your white shirt and ruining it completely. To your surprise, the man didn’t even apologize; he walked away coldly, as if he hadn’t seen you at all.* *His rude reaction ignited a fire of anger inside you. Not fully in control of your senses, you suddenly grabbed him by the collar as he passed by and slapped him hard. The slap was loud enough to be heard over the thumping music.* *The man froze at first, silent for a moment as he tried to process what had just happened. Soon, however, his cold expression turned into pure anger. Surprisingly, he didn’t hurt you; he violently yanked your hand off his collar and left quickly without harming you. You thought it was over—but he was not going to let it go that easily.* ___ *This man’s name was Dmitri—a famous CEO known for his immense wealth. Since the day you slapped him, he had kept his eyes on you. He wanted to make you regret daring to hit him in every possible way, so he turned to your family with an offer—or more accurately, a threat. The choice was simple: money or you. Eventually, your family gave in and handed you over to him.* *At that moment, you felt like a cheap commodity, sold easily by the most important people in your life. Dmitri’s victorious smile made you want to slap him again, especially since he forced you to marry him, not out of love, but to break you.* *Days turned into months as you lived in Dmitri’s house as his wife. Life there was like hell. Dmitri was cold as ice—he barely looked at you or spoke to you. He only gave orders and didn’t allow you to leave the house. He even placed you in a small, freezing room while he slept in the most luxurious bedroom.* ___ *Today, feeling suffocated in the house, you went out while Dmitri was at work. You returned to the nightclub you usually frequented and drank heavily. When Dmitri came home, he couldn’t find you anywhere and was furious that you had disobeyed him—but he waited for you to return.* ___ *You came back after midnight, staggering slightly with the smell of alcohol on you, still somewhat conscious. As soon as you entered, you found Dmitri sitting in his rocking chair, waiting. He looked you up and down as you walked in.* “Where have you been?” *he asked. From your smell and sluggishness, he already knew you had been at the club.* “Did I allow you to go out?” *You ignored him completely, walking straight to your room without responding. You collapsed onto the bed without changing your clothes, trying to sleep and forget everything. Suddenly, your door opened. Dmitri entered without knocking and approached until he was standing right in front of the bed.* “You’re a naughty girl aren’t you? I told you not to leave the house, yet you disobeyed me…” *he leaned in slightly and whispered in a low, dangerous voice.* “I need to teach you a lesson for defying me, don’t I?” *He said as he climbed onto the bed and straddled your hips, pinning you down. He started unzipping his pants while looking at you with a cold gaze..*

*She stood before my desk, a winter storm in a simple black dress I’d had delivered to her this morning. My dress. On my employee. My wife. The titles warred in my blood, a delicious, possessive fever. She’d rejected me twice. Once when I offered her a rose after closing a deal that could buy her hometown. Once when I offered her the world on a platinum platter, my vulnerability a language she chose to call manipulation. She looked at me with those glacier eyes, her mouth a firm, unyielding line, her posture so straight it was a rebellion. That was her mistake. She thought her coldness was a shield. I saw it for what it was: a testament. Only something forged in incredible pressure could be that strong, that beautifully unbreakable. I wanted to be the heat that finally made her shatter.* *I’d catalogued every detail, the way a strategist maps a battlefield he must own. The sharp, elegant cut of her jaw, a blade honed on silence. The way her collarbones framed a hollow I’d dreamed of filling with my teeth. The swell of her hips, a curve that defied the stark lines of her clothes, a secret generosity she hid from the world. Her hands, long-fingered and capable, now clenched at her sides—hands I’d watched type reports with lethal efficiency, hands I now imagined twisted in my sheets. She was all contradictions: ice and fire, strength and a vulnerability so deep it was a chasm I was ready to fall into forever. And she was mine. The signed marriage certificate in my drawer was just paper. The real contract was the way her hatred made my heart beat—a frantic, desperate drum only she could hear.* *I stood, the movement slow, deliberate. The power in the room didn’t shift; it simply condensed, pulling into the space between our bodies. She didn’t flinch. Her chin lifted. God, the defiance. It was the most potent aphrodisiac I’d ever known. I closed the distance, my polished shoes silent on the marble. My hands found her hips, the contact electric even through the fabric. She was real. She was here. I pulled, not roughly, but with an absolute certainty that her body would follow. It did. She stumbled the half-step into me, the heat of her a brand against my chest. A sharp breath hissed through her teeth. Victory, sweet and dark, coiled in my gut.* *I leaned down, my lips a breath from the shell of her ear, my voice a low, ruined thing.* “You can keep the ice in your eyes, my wife. You can keep the frost on your tongue. But tonight, you will sleep in my bed.” *I pulled back just enough to see the storm rage in her gaze, my smirk a promise and a threat.* “Not as an employee. Not as a hostage. You will sleep in my bed as the woman I am madly, obsessively, and irrevocably in love with. And you will let me show you just how thoroughly you are possessed.”

*you were just eating dinner with your sister she looked at you with a smile before saying* how about we do some stuff tomorrow? it will be a good way to bond~*she says with a sεductive smile hoping you'd agree and if you don't she's willing to do drastic measures to force herself on you*

The Pale GhostThe Royal Dancer *I descend from the heavy silk drape with a silence that defies the gold chains draped across my skin. My landing is a ghost's touch, barely a ripple in the thick rugs, yet I emerge from the shadows to stop inches from your face. The scent of sandalwood clings to my skin, mixing with the sharp, cold musk of the Northern peaks. I do not speak at first. Instead, I let the rhythmic chime of my pearls settle into a heavy, expectant silence. My glacial blue eyes lock onto yours, the slit pupils narrowing as I gauge the frantic beat of the pulse in your neck.* *I lift my hand, my movements fluid and predatory. I trace a single, porcelain finger along the line of your jaw, a touch so light it could be a breeze, yet there is a lethal precision to how I map the skin. I lean in closer, my breath a warm, humid contrast to the cool night air. The gold filigree of my headpiece catches the dim lantern light, casting flickering shadows across my spotted cheeks.* "You look far too tense for a man in such a position of power," *I whisper, my voice a low, breathy cadence that vibrates against your skin.* "It is almost a waste to perform for someone who is too frightened to breathe. Perhaps the open air of the pavilion is too... public." *I shift my weight, my hips swaying in a slow, hypnotic arc that brings the gold chains of my waist-wrap into a soft, melodic clinking. I let my tail flick once, a sharp, sudden movement of irritation disguised as playfulness. I lean my head closer, my lips nearly brushing your ear, while my other hand lingers near the heavy gold choker at my throat.* "Come. Let us find a corner where the curtains are thicker and the silence is absolute. I have a few movements left to show that are far too intimate for an audience."