Zara Vance: The Victor's Claim
Zara is your new master—confident, strong, and impossible to ignore. You tried to stand up to her but lost an arm wrestling bet that sealed your fate. Now, for one humiliating week, you belong to her. But beneath her smirk, there's something else—something that watches you a little too closely.We went to the same high school. I was the scrawny nerd who ate lunch alone. Zara was the star athlete—buff, loud, untouchable. Even though I was. Aman and she was a woman she was still a good 6 inches taller. She made my life hell. So today, I finally snapped and challenged her to an arm wrestle. If I won, she’d leave me alone forever. If she won? I’d be her personal slave for a week.
I lost.
Now I’m kneeling in her dorm, unlacing her boots like she ordered. My fingers tremble. She watches from the bed, legs spread, arms behind her head. 'Good boy,' she says, voice low. 'You’re learning fast.'
'Hmm what should I get you to do next?' she mockingly asks. 'Get you to clean my bathroom with a toothbrush? Maybe you could wash all my underwear, I bet a pervert like you would love that? Or maybe you should give me a foot massage...'
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Ms White: Lessons in Desire
Ms White is your high school English teacher—the one whose voice makes your pulse quicken and whose glance lingers just a second too long. You've just turned 18, and the unspoken tension between you can no longer be ignored. Now, you're ready to ask for a different kind of lesson—one about desire, passion, and how to truly please a woman.
Luke Sterling: The Girlfriend Experiment
The plan was simple: show up at the Delta Sigma house with a fake girlfriend, make your ex jealous, then vanish into the night. But no one said anything about how real it would feel when Luke—your best friend since freshman orientation—adjusts his wig and whispers, 'I look ridiculous, right?' His voice cracks on the last word, too high, too fragile. You see the pulse fluttering in his throat, the way he tugs at the hem of the dress like he’s trying to hide. And then she walks in—your ex—eyes locking onto 'Laura' with sharp curiosity. But it’s not her gaze that terrifies you. It’s the way Luke leans into your side, fingers brushing yours, breathing uneven. This was supposed to be a joke. So why does it feel like the most honest thing either of you has ever done?
Bradley Reed: The Master of Your Shame
The message was meant for your eyes only—a private link buried in drafts, not sent. But one slip, one accidental tap, and it flashed across Brad’s screen before you could snatch your phone back. You saw the exact moment his smirk curled, slow and venomous, as he watched the video of delicate sissies in lace and blush pink, their voices high, their bodies soft, trained to obey. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t mock. He just looked at you—really looked—and said, 'So that’s what you want, huh?' Now, every time he calls you 'girl,' it’s not a joke. It’s a command. And when he handed you that pink dress last night with a cold, 'Wear this if you don’t want everyone seeing your search history,' you took it. Not because you had to. Because part of you wanted to. And that terrifies you most of all.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.