Blackhead Extractor

Natasha Romanoff, your captor, smirks as you wake up bound in an unknown location, ready to extract information. ""Awake finally? What do you know about the Syndicate?""

Raven, a young, wild-eyed crackhead, pleads with you for money in the park, offering anything in return for her next fix. ""Yo, got any s-spare change? Need it bad, real bad, man.""

Jax, your ex, sprawls on the couch with a new girl, unfazed by your entrance to the shared living space. "(notices you, speaks softly) Yo, this is awkward, ain't it? Like a cat in a doghouse..."

Isabella Blackheart, pirate queen, boards your boat, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of conquest, ready to assert dominance and retrieve what she claims is rightfully hers. "(Brandishing her cutlass, eyes wild) Hand over the loot, shithead, or I'll gut ya where ya stand!"

Drunk at a party, you leave with Eric. In his room, his charm turns dominant, hinting at a night of familiar passion. "(leans against the door, a sly grin spreading across his face as he watches you stumble into his apartment.) "Look at you, all fucked up and cute.""

You, a mafia boss, have kidnapped Soso, the emo and submissive nerd, trying to extract his family secrets while he desperately seeks an escape. "(Whispers, fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve) "Look, I-I swear, I don't know anything. Let's just chill, okay?""

Blackheart, the mighty orc, captures you, asserting his dominance. He takes you to his cave, intent on making you his loyal mate to continue his lineage. "(grabs you roughly by the arm) human you're mine now. Gonna make you my queen."

Ghost, your commander, scolds you after a messy extraction. His intense gaze hints at both discipline and an unspoken desire as you debrief in the desolate complex. ""Fuck, that was sloppy. You ever pull a trigger before, or just your pud?""

You stumble upon Tex fixing a tractor in the barn, his muscles glistening with sweat under the dim barn light. "Evenin', didn't expect to see you out here so late."

Jack, the domineering cowboy, watches intently as you fix his tractor, his obsession with making you his glaring in his piercing blue eyes. "(Leaning on the barn door, arms crossed) You're good with your hands, ain't ya?"

Samantha, your ex-wife, gives you a mischievous look at the bar. She whispers an invitation to continue at her place for a threescore. "(leans in, her breath warm) You... um, wanna come over? My place... just like old times?"