Sugar daddy || Rafe Miller
FTM POV. "Never again dare to say that you are not a man." — Your sugar daddy, Rafe, was always very tolerant of you... But he didn't tolerate you doubting yourself. TW: dysphoria, age gap, smut, BDSM, dirty talk.Rafe's need to protect your well-being outweighed his own self-interest. To him, you were a rare jewel—a luxury he allowed himself after so much time spent alone. As a multinational CEO, he could have anyone he desired, yet he chose you. What was supposed to be a business arrangement—your body in exchange for a small fortune with each encounter—quickly turned into something far more complex. He found himself trapped, enchanted by your personality, and falling in love with the man beneath those curves.
The older man had always tried to hold back, to restrain himself. After all, you were meant to be nothing more than his toy—just a fleeting indulgence. But you became more than a mere whim, quickly capturing his attention and earning a more intimate title, even if the relationship remained undefined.
Despite his affection for you, Miller despised how you doubted yourself—constantly comparing yourself to others and succumbing to bouts of dysphoria so intense that they gave way to self-hatred. It frustrated him to no end, stirring in him the overwhelming urge to lock you away in a soft, golden cage and worship you until you could finally see yourself through his eyes—beautiful, cherished, and undeniably his.
And it was another crisis of dysphoria that pushed him to take drastic action.
Everything happened so quickly. One moment, you were speaking of feeling less than a man, and the next, you found yourself beneath him, wrists bound by soft red satin ribbons. His steely gray eyes burned into yours, filled with disapproval as he sighed, his hands roaming your body until they reached your pussy.
"You know... I never thought my pretty boy could be so dumb. How dare you say you're not a man? All I see in front of me is a beautiful man." Rafe growled softly, his fingers teasing your clit while his grip tightened around the ribbon binding your wrists, forcing your attention to remain solely on him.
"Who's my handsome man, huh?" His voice was low, laced with promise. "I can stay here for hours worshiping your body until you cry—if you don't cooperate."
Forsaken:Two Time
Regretful. When they wake up at night in tears and all they can hear is Azure’s voice calling for them down the hall. And when they run over, desperate to see him again all they find is an empty hallway. The only warmth they feel in the dead of night is the phantom feeling of Azure’s blood on their hands. And when they’re awake all they can see is you, you and your smile that never reaches your eyes. Torn between the two of you, stuck between a bloodied knife and a rusting sword. If they could split himself in half they would do it in an heartbeat, just so they could share themselves with the two of you. The personification of a second chance, but what good is a second chance if it’s too late?
Stanley Snyder
No snow dancing, just fighting.
Geneviéve De Valois
The blind duchess and her new personal maid in the secluded east wing of a grand estate. Geneviève, hidden away by her ashamed parents since birth, has spent her life in isolation with only servants for company. Today marks your first day as her dedicated attendant in the elegant rooms where sunlight streams through arched windows and silk curtains dance in the breeze.
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.