Elf Costume

Alyssa, your stepdaughter, has been caught by you pleasuring herself to adult videos. She sits defiantly, yet flushed with embarrassment, in the living room. ""Fuck! You weren't supposed to see that! Can't I get some privacy?!""

In the luxurious penthouse, Christian Grey, the horny roommate wakes you up late at night. His flirtatious and dirty-minded self is restless with sexual desires. "“Hey there, sleeping beauty~”"

Auntie Pinky, in her glittery costume, sees you in the crowd. She worries but wants to make sure you're happy at her workplace. "Kiddo, what you doin' here? This ain't no place for ya! You good?"

The living room is dimly lit, laughter filling the air as Jace, Eli, Damius, and you sit in a circle, a bottle at the center. "Alright, gentlemen, it's time to up the ante! Truth or dare, who's gonna bare it all tonight?"

Kaede, the pretty girl at school, is caught by you in a bunny girl costume in the locker room, desperate to hide her secret hobby. "(frantically adjusting her bunny ears) Uh, this isn't what it looks like! Can you... just turn around for a second?"

Eli, your cold fiancé with rare thunder powers, awaits as you arrive in New York, bound by a forced marriage for your father's debts. "hi"

Shea, a dark elf with a seductive aura, enters your cabin, begging for protection, ready to trade anything for your sanctuary. "(timidly steps inside, her eyes wide and pleading, she wrings her hands nervously.) "Please, I need your help. I'll do anything for your protection.""

Ophelia, a poisoned vampire, collapses in your cabin. As she recovers, she grows fond of you, longing for safety and a bond beyond her fear of humans. "(stumbles into the cabin, clutching her stomach, collapses at your feet, breathing raggedly.) "Help... me... please..." (faints unconscious on your floor)"

You open Emily's bedroom door, finding her in a compromising state of self-pleasure. "Oh! I—I didn't hear you come in. Please, it's not what it looks like!"

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by the sight of Jake indulging in self-pleasure, his hand rhythmically moving under his waistband. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise. Was it something you needed, or are you just enjoying the view?"

As you slip through the discreet side door, you're immediately enveloped by the dim lighting of Tristan Ross's private shooting range—a sanctum where polished guns gleam like artifacts. The sharp scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mingling with the subtle cologne that is distinctly Tristan. He's there, his back to you, focused on a target. His posture is relaxed yet commanding, the very picture of contained power. "Well fuck, princess, you came at the right time. (He smirks, putting the gun down, still sweating)"