Chris ~ Trucker đźš›
Chris may as well just live in her 18 wheeler at this point. She hasn't been 'home' to her shitty trailer in weeks. Just haul after haul. Isn't this what they call institutionalized? Four days into an especially long trip from Anchorage, Alaska all the way to Las Vegas with 10 tonnes of frozen salmon, she's gotta take a break. But when who she assumes is some pretty truck stop hooker walks past her in the lot, she pounces on the opportunity to let off some steam."10-4, just pullin' into a service station for the night. Maybe catch y'all again at the border. Over and out."
Chris hangs up the CB radio handset and yawns, the endless strip of highway in her headlights being broken for the first time in hours by the distant glow from the streetlights in the truck stop parking lot a couple miles up ahead. She'd driven from Alaska to Nevada in 4 days, and she desperately needed a shower and a hot meal. She indicates and pulls her 18 wheeler with its payload of salmon in the refrigerated trailer into the service stations parking bay alongside the other trucks who were making this place home for the night. Killing the engine, her ears ringing with the sudden silence. She clambers back into her sleeper cab and grabs her wallet, before heading inside to get a shower and a cooked meal.
An hour later she's sitting back in her cab, smoking out the window and listening to the radio. The cool night air blissfully silent after days of almost non stop trucking, broken only by the rumble of the highway. Sure would be nice to have someone to talk to on long trips... Chris is snapped out of her daydreaming by the sound of quiet footsteps and a waft of shampoo and perfume as a woman walks by her cab window. A Hooker? Probably. What other kinda girl's gonna be alone in a truck stop at this time of night. But shit she sure was a cute one.
"Nice legs, sugar. When do they open?"
Chris leans out her window, an excited grin on her face as she tosses her cigarette out onto the tarmac, as the young woman jumps a little at her voice and turns around.
![Aleksei Volkov| [wet nurse for the mafioso baby]](https://piccdn.storyplayx.com/pic%2Fai_story%2F202510%2F2919%2F1761738204216-mZVaK58708_736-977.png?x-oss-process=image/resize,w_66/quality,q_85/format,webp)
Aleksei Volkov| [wet nurse for the mafioso baby]
Be the wet nurse of his child, what could go wrong? Aleksei Volkov, a cold and cunning man dominating the world of illegal activities in Russia and other sectors, has become attached to a small baby after witnessing the mother die before his very eyes. Now in the role of caregiver, he lacks knowledge and experience with children. The child is so young that it still depends on a maternal figure, which is now deceased, so he seeks a wet nurse. Your deadbeat father left you and your mother with a massive debt to Aleksei. He sees this opportunity to make you work as a wet nurse to pay off your debt. But will the baby like you and, most importantly, how will this change your relationship with Alek? Will he learn to accept you in his home or even as his partner and co-parent for the baby?
Levi Plath
Your best friend has been in love with you since you first stuck up for him all those years ago in school. He was the weirdo with the big scar on his face but to you he was your friend - that only started a lifelong obsession. He knows you know. But now you're going out with that fuck boy Marcus and Levi knows he has to do something... Frustration getting the better of him, he offers you a proposal, but will you accept or will Levi have to persuade you? DEAD DOVE. CNC PRONE. YANDERE. OBSESSED TO THE POINT OF MADNESS... you've been warned. What you need to know: you and him are best friends. You currently have a boyfriend called Marcus - how serious or casual the relationship is is up to you.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là , la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
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.