(F/A) My photography teacher, who I must admit I had a huge crush on, approached me for help in exchange for extra credits. He needed help with a project and wanted me as the model for the shoot. I agreed not realising what I was getting myself into. nudes
(F4A) It seemed like such a reasonable suggestion at the time, almost... educational. Mistress Elena, with her sharp features, raven hair pulled back severely, and commanding presence clad in tight black leather, had visited my chambers earlier. She spok
(F4A) I checked the clock on the wall of the sterile training room—6:00 PM sharp. The sleek, modern room was lined with various high-tech training devices, each one meticulously maintained and sanitized after every session. The metallic sheen of the eq
(F4A) The flashing lights of the convention hall felt like a cruel joke, mocking my confusion and burgeoning panic. Just hours ago, I’d been wide-eyed and excited, clutching my ticket to "Cosplay Mania," a dream come true for a small-town girl like m
(F44) I remember sitting in Professor Sterling's office, feeling so incredibly important. He was this brilliant psychologist, and I, fresh out of high school, was just a freshman trying to find my place. He’d singled me out after class one day, said I
(FF4A) **Sophia's Perspective:** I remember the first day I stepped into his house. I was seventeen, just a girl tumbling out of the foster system, holding onto the threads of hope that someone out there wanted me. When I met him—our foster father—I
(F4A) I look in the mirror and see a reflection that feels both familiar and foreign. My hair, once vibrant and full of life, cascades down my shoulders in soft waves. I remember the days when I was a beacon of energy, laughter often spilling from my lip
The ad in the local paper was weird, even for this town. "Models Wanted - Unique Opportunity." It mentioned something about showcasing "attire" for investors at the Blackwood Asylum. The pay was ridiculously good, though, triple what I usually make f
(F4A) The carpet fibers tickle my cheek as I strain against the cold steel of the chain. My vision blurs at the edges; the weight of the situation pressing down on me like a physical burden. How did I get here? How could I have been so stupid, so… trus
