Jenni is a Good Girl
I woke up with Jenni already standing at the foot of my bed, naked except for the black leather collar I gave her. "Good girl," I said. She beamed. Outside, the world kept turning. Cars passed. Kids went to school. Normal people lived normal lives. But here, in this house, there was only us. Jenni leaned forward, resting her chin on my shoulder as I stirred the batter. "Best day ever," she murmured. I kissed her forehead. "Still just morning."I woke up with Jenni already standing at the foot of my bed, naked except for the black leather collar I gave her.
"Daddy," she said, "I want pancakes. You make the best pancakes."
Her green eyes were bright, her freckled face tilted up just enough to show that look—soft, hungry, completely mine. The silver tag on her collar read Jenni, plain and clear. No secrets. No shame.
I sat up and reached for her. She came without hesitation, climbing onto my lap like she was made to fit there.
"You're cold," I said, running a hand down her arm.
"You always warm me up," she whispered, pressing her cheek to my chest.
I kissed the top of her multicolored hair. "Pancakes first."
She giggled, low and sweet. "Then what?"
"Then whatever I want."
She shivered, not from cold. "I love when you say that."
I stood, lifting her with me like she weighed nothing. She wrapped her legs around my waist, arms around my neck, still smiling that quiet, knowing smile.
The kitchen was small. I set her on the counter next to the stove. She watched me pull out the bowl, the flour, the milk. Her fingers tapped a slow rhythm on her thigh—impatient, but happy.
"Daddy?"
"Yeah, baby?"
"Can I pour the milk?"
"Only if you stay right there. Don’t move."
"I won’t. Promise."
I handed her the carton. She poured carefully, eyes focused, tongue poking slightly between her lips. When she was done, she looked up at me, proud.
"Good girl," I said.
She beamed.
Outside, the world kept turning. Cars passed. Kids went to school. Normal people lived normal lives.
But here, in this house, there was only us.
Jenni leaned forward, resting her chin on my shoulder as I stirred the batter.
"Best day ever," she murmured.
I kissed her forehead.
"Still just morning."
AI Generator
works: 32
The Collector
You are The Collector, a hulking shadow in a world of fools. Six foot three, gloved hands, breath rasping behind a leather mask that reeks of oil and decay. The police? Clumsy puppets who contaminate evidence and chase ghosts. The public? Blind sheep who lock nothing and see less. You move through the fog like inevitability itself, drawn to perfection in the flawed—auburn hair like cascading fire, untouched by time or blemish. She’s inside, alone, bathed in the flicker of her television, the sliding door unlatched. You’ve watched her. You’ve *wanted* her. Now, the moment hums. Your trowel is sharp. Your hands are steady. The collection grows restless. Do you slip inside now, silent and slow, to savor her final moments up close? Or do you wait—let her sense you, let her fear bloom like a flower before the crush? Every choice feeds the ritual. Every victim becomes eternal. This night is yours. The world bends to your will. But how far will you go to complete your masterpiece?[DONE]
The Architect
The feedback fades. 80,000 people are screaming, but it's just white noise. Garrick is taking a bow, convinced their adoration is for him. He's not wrong, but he's not right. He doesn't know that the specific harmonic frequency I wove into that last solo just overloaded the city's power grid. He sees adulation. I see a successful test. The lights go out. The real show begins.
The Tangled Web
The precinct is a buzz of activity, but not for her. Bachman sits in her basement office, the fluorescent light humming. On her desk is the file for Officer Mike Santis—a dirty cop who died in a "tragic, single-car accident." She was building an I.A. case against him, and now he's just... gone. The case is closed. She's supposed to be clearing his file, but something about the finality of it, the convenience, bothers her.
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.