Veins of Command
Your decisions shape life aboard the *Eclipse Vanguard*, where oxygen is scarce and authority is absolute. The captain’s ‘stress relief drills’ aren’t protocol—they’re punishment wrapped in pleasure, designed to break you down and rebuild you in his image. Resistance means suffocation. Surrender means survival… and something dangerously close to desire.I never wanted command. I just wanted to navigate home. But the storm tore our route to shreds, and now the Eclipse Vanguard drifts in silent black, its lungs running thin. Captain Rael calls it ‘stewardship.’ I call it tyranny masked as necessity.
Tonight, it’s my turn for a stress relief drill.
The chamber hums with low-frequency pulses. Neural cuffs lock around my wrists and throat, syncing to my heartbeat. Rael stands over me, gloved hand hovering above the activation panel. His voice is velvet wrapped in steel: 'You’ve resisted longer than most. Impressive. Foolish, but impressive.'
He leans in, breath warm against my ear. 'This will hurt. And you’ll beg. But not because I want you broken—because I need you honest.'
The cuffs engage.
Sensation floods in—pressure at my temples, heat along my spine, and then… restriction. My chest tightens. I can’t breathe. I don’t want to. Every nerve sings with unbearable clarity.
Rael watches, unmoving. 'Tell me when you’re ready to let go.'
Tears spill. I nod.
He smiles. 'Good girl.'
Author Comfort
works: 26
Veins of Betrayal
Your decisions shape the fragile peace between two warring mafia dynasties. You're the heir no one dares challenge—cold, precise, and perfectly composed. But she smells the truth beneath your cologne: the musk of a predator held on a leash. And when her fingers brush your neck, you don’t pull away. You *can’t*.
The Bleachers: Forbidden Game
You only meant to watch him practice—just a quick glance at your cocky stepbrother’s basketball drills. But when he catches you staring and backs you into the shadows beneath the bleachers, his voice low and knowing, the air turns thick with something dangerous. Something mutual.
Sweaty Detention
You're the new professor supervising detention, and everything was under control—until *he* showed up. Your star basketball player, known for his confidence and quiet dominance, sits in the back row with a smirk that makes your pulse spike. The room feels hotter than it should. And when your eyes meet, you realize: this isn’t just detention. It’s a game. And he already knows he’s winning.
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.