A Corrupt Femboy Officer

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Choose the police officer's hair color: [[Blonde]] [[Brown]] [[Black]]

The officer's hair is blonde.<<set $hair to "bl">> [[Continue.]]

The officer's hair is brown.<<set $hair to "br">> [[Continue.]]

The officer's hair is black.<<set $hair to "b">> [[Continue.]]

Please select the officer's eye color. [[Brown.->br eyes]] [[Blue.]] [[Green.]]

The officer's eyes are brown.<<set $eyes to "br">> [[Continue.->cont 2]]

The officer's eyes are blue.<<set $eyes to "bl">> [[Continue.->cont 2]]

The officer's eyes are green.<<set $eyes to "g">> [[Continue.->cont 2]]

You're ready to start the game. Unless you want to read this [[hint]] about the police officer. [[Start the game.->Start over?]]

The police officer has a dominant personality but can be brought to submission with the right choices. Despite his femboy appearance, he struggles with submission, as he perceives himself as a top, influenced by his authoritative role. [[Start the game.->Start over?]]

You step into the club, the pulse of the bass vibrating through your chest. It’s a nice Friday night after a long week of work. The dim lighting gives everything a hazy vibe, but it’s kind of fun. A few people are already dancing, some laughing and chatting with each other. You glance at your phone, and a small wave of stress hits you. You know you’ll have to drive home eventually, but the thought of being a responsible adult doesn’t exactly thrill you. The bar’s right there, with bottles of liquor catching the light like a tempting invitation. A drink would help you relax, no doubt... but then again... You hesitate. A drink means you’ll have to be extra cautious when you leave. You’ll either need to grab a cab, wait longer before driving, or... sleep on the streets? Alcohol could complicate things. On the other hand, you could leave the drinks for another night and just dance. It’s been a while since you’ve let loose and danced like no one’s watching. Because in clubs, no one really is... unless they’re attracted to you. Maybe that’s the better choice. What do you do? [[Order something to drink.]] [[Do not drink anything but just dance.]]

You step up to the bar, and the bartender’s attention goes to you as you approach. You make eye contact, and he gives you a quick nod. The bar is well-stocked, bottles of various liquors gleaming under the low lights, but your mind is already set on what you want. [[Tequila.]] [[Vodka.]] [[Beer.]]

You head to the dance floor. The music pulses through the air, your feet already moving with the beat. The rhythm seeps into your bones, an irresistible pull to let go, to forget everything but this moment. The dance floor is alive—bodies moving, heat rising, energy crackling. You slip into the crowd, the bass thrumming in your chest as the world fades. All that matters is the beat, your body, and the motion. Then, you notice him. Tall, mid-20s—maybe a little older. Dark hair and sharp features that catch the club’s dim light. He moves with an easy confidence, his lean frame effortlessly in sync with the music. There’s something magnetic about him. He catches your gaze and smiles, stepping closer, his body aligning with the beat. His eyes hold something playful, curious... inviting. The music swells, and so does your confidence. The night suddenly feels wide open. [[Dance with him.->dance with the guy at the bar without drinking]] [[Keep dancing alone.->keep dancing alone without a drink]] [[On second thought, maybe go get yourself a drink.]]

“Hey, what can I get you?” he asks, or rather you're guessing he asked, because he's a bartender and you can barely hear him over the music. You lean in a little, making sure he can hear you. “Tequila, please.” “Tequila. Alright, one shot coming right up.” He grabs a fresh bottle of tequila from the shelf, the deep amber liquid catching the light. With a twist, he pops the cap. A flick of his wrist, and he pours the shot into a small glass, sliding it toward you. “That’ll be $7,” he says, not missing a beat, his eyes scanning the crowd over your shoulder as he waits. You pull out your wallet. “Cash or card?” he asks. [[Cash.->cash teq]] [[Card.->card teq]]

“Hey, what can I get you?” he asks—or at least, you think he does. The music is pounding, drowning out most of his voice. You lean in slightly, making sure he hears you. “Vodka, please.” “Vodka. Got it. One shot coming right up.” He grabs a fresh bottle from the shelf, the crystal-clear liquid shimmering under the neon lights. With a quick twist, he pops the cap. A flick of his wrist, and the vodka pours smooth and clean into a small glass before he slides it toward you. “That’ll be $7,” he says, barely looking at you, his gaze already sweeping the crowd over your shoulder. You pull out your wallet. “Cash or card?” he asks. [[Cash.->cash vodka]] [[Card.->card vodka]]

“Hey, what can I get you?” he asks—or at least, you assume he does. The music is too loud to catch every word. You lean in slightly. “Just a beer.” “Beer, got it.” He reaches into the cooler, grabs a cold bottle, and pops the cap with practiced ease before setting it in front of you. Condensation drips down the glass, the amber liquid catching the dim club lights. “That’ll be $6,” he says, barely pausing as his eyes flick past you, scanning the crowd. You pull out your wallet. “Cash or card?” he asks. [[Cash.->cash beer]] [[Card.->card beer]]

You decide to pay with cash. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the shot glass back toward you with a small nod. You take the shot in your hand, feeling its weight for a moment before throwing it back. The burn hits you immediately—sharp, fiery, like it’s blazing a trail down your throat. The heat spreads quickly, settling deep into your chest, but after a second, the sharpness mellows out, leaving a smooth aftertaste with just a faint tang of agave. You exhale deeply, the buzz slowly creeping in, and a warm glow spreads through you. It’s not too much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. What do you do? [[Order more.]] [[Get something else.->get something else teq]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You decide to pay with card. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the shot glass back toward you with a small nod. You take the shot in your hand, feeling its weight for a moment before throwing it back. The burn hits you immediately—sharp, fiery, like it’s blazing a trail down your throat. The heat spreads quickly, settling deep into your chest, but after a second, the sharpness mellows out, leaving a smooth aftertaste with just a faint tang of agave. You exhale deeply, the buzz slowly creeping in, and a warm glow spreads through you. It’s not too much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. What do you do? [[Order more.]] [[Get something else.->get something else teq]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You raise a finger to the bartender, wordlessly signaling for another. The second shot goes down easier than the first, the burn less noticeable, the warmth settling in faster. You feel it in your limbs now, a loose, weightless sensation that makes everything seem just a little funnier, a little hazier. Then comes the third. By the time you slam the glass down, the room feels softer around the edges. The music pulses through your body, the bass syncing with your heartbeat. Your skin is warm, your thoughts slower, pleasantly tangled. A fourth. Maybe a fifth. You’ve stopped counting. Your laughter is louder now, your movements a little unsteady, but you don’t care. The world is spinning, not in a bad way—more like it’s swaying, dancing along with you. Your body feels light, your head full of static and heat. You're drunk. Properly drunk. The kind where decisions feel distant, like someone else’s problem. [[Drive back home.]] [[Call a cab.]] [[Dance.]]

You pause, the shot glass lingering in your grip, warmth already blooming in your chest. The buzz is there, familiar and tempting—but something inside you shifts. Maybe it’s responsibility creeping in, a quiet reminder that you still have to get home. The last thing you need is trouble on the road or a fine you can’t afford. With a quiet sigh, you set the glass down. The decision is made. “Yeah, I think I’m good,” you murmur, stepping back. Being responsible isn’t exactly thrilling, but tonight, it’s the smarter call. There’s always next time—maybe when you’re out with friends, when the night feels a little looser, a little easier. You scan the club. The energy is still electric, lights slicing through the haze, bass thrumming in your bones. Just because you’re not drinking doesn’t mean the night has to end. You can still enjoy this. Just differently. [[Go dance.]] [[Go back home.]]

You’ve had enough. Time to go home. You’re bored, exhausted, or maybe the night just isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. Whatever the reason, you walk out of the bar, and the cold air slaps you right in the face. You have alcohol in your system, no matter how much you feel able to drive. [[Drive back home.->drive home after one drink]] [[Call a cab.->call a cab after one drink]]

You step away from the bar and head to the dance floor. The music pulses through the air, your feet already moving with the beat. The rhythm seeps into your bones, an irresistible pull to let go, to forget everything but this moment. The dance floor is alive—bodies moving, heat rising, energy crackling. You slip into the crowd, the bass thrumming in your chest as the world fades. All that matters is the beat, your body, and the motion. Then, you notice him. Tall, mid-20s—maybe a little older. Dark hair and sharp features that catch the club’s dim light. He moves with an easy confidence, his lean frame effortlessly in sync with the music. There’s something magnetic about him. He catches your gaze and smiles, stepping closer, his body aligning with the beat. His eyes hold something playful, curious... inviting. The music swells, and so does your confidence. The night suddenly feels wide open. [[Dance with him.]] [[Keep dancing alone.]] [[Get another drink.]]

You move toward him, your body finding a rhythm with his. The music is alive between you two—a steady, thrumming connection. He matches your movements without any effort, and his grin widens as he steps closer, his fingers caressing yours for a brief moment before retreating. In a way, you could say that the club... fades. The crowd, the chaos, all of it. It's just the two of you, caught in your dance, as your bodies move in sync. Every time he touches you, he makes sure it lingers—whether it’s a teasing brush along your wrist or a guiding press at your waist. Then, he leans in. It’s slow, deliberate. His lips hover near yours, his breath warm against your skin. His dark eyes flicker down, waiting, inviting. Your heart pounds, and not just from the alcohol or the music. [[Lean forward and kiss him.->kiss the guy, drunk]] [[Tell him you're not interested but instead only want to dance.->just dance with the guy, drunk]]

<<goto "keep dancing alone, drunk">>

Maybe just one more. Just one. What’s the harm in that? You make your way to the bar and order another drink. Then another. Heat floods your chest, spreading like wildfire, your limbs both heavy and restless. The room tilts, the sounds around you melting into a dull, senseless hum. You know you’ve crossed the line, but the thought barely sticks before you take another sip. And then—everything shifts. Your stomach lurches. The warmth in your skin turns clammy, ice-cold. Your head feels unmoored, your vision swimming in and out of focus. You try to stand, but your legs buckle beneath you. The last thing you register is the sensation of falling—voices rising, urgent yet distant. Then—nothing. … You wake to a steady, rhythmic beeping. No pounding bass. No flashing lights. Just the sterile scent of antiseptic, the weight of a hospital blanket draped over you. Your throat is dry, your head feels like it’s been split open, but you’re alive. You stare at the ceiling, mind sluggish but clear enough to recognize one thing: you got lucky. Someone called for help. You didn’t get behind the wheel. You woke up. This time. Ending Five. [[Start over?]]

You decide to pay with cash. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the bottle back toward you with a small nod. You take the cold bottle in your hand, condensation slick against your fingertips. You lift it to your lips before taking a long sip. The beer is smooth, crisp, with a slight bitterness that lingers on your tongue. It doesn't do much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. [[Order more.]] [[Get something else.->get something esle beer]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You decide to pay with card. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the bottle back toward you with a small nod. You take the cold bottle in your hand, condensation slick against your fingertips. You lift it to your lips before taking a long sip. The beer is smooth, crisp, with a slight bitterness that lingers on your tongue. It doesn't do much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. [[Order more.]] [[Get something else.->get something esle beer]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You decide to pay with cash. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the glass back toward you with a small nod. You take the drink in your hand, feeling its cool weight for a moment before tilting it back. The vodka is clean, crisp—smooth at first, but then the burn sneaks up on you, sharp and biting as it slides down your throat. It’s not fiery like tequila, not smoky or rich—just pure, almost icy, like a jolt of clarity wrapped in warmth. The heat lingers in your chest, but there’s no harsh aftertaste, just a clean, almost neutral smoothness that fades as quickly as it came. You exhale slowly, the buzz creeping in, steady and sure. It’s not too much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. What do you do? [[Order more.]] [[Get something else.->get something else vod]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You decide to pay with your credit card. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the glass back toward you with a small nod. You take the drink in your hand, feeling its cool weight for a moment before tilting it back. The vodka is clean, crisp—smooth at first, but then the burn sneaks up on you, sharp and biting as it slides down your throat. It’s not fiery like tequila, not smoky or rich—just pure, almost icy, like a jolt of clarity wrapped in warmth. The heat lingers in your chest, but there’s no harsh aftertaste, just a clean, almost neutral smoothness that fades as quickly as it came. You exhale slowly, the buzz creeping in, steady and sure. It’s not too much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. What do you do? [[Order more.]] [[Get something else.->get something else vod]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You move toward him, your body finding a rhythm with his. The music is alive between you two—a steady, thrumming connection. He matches your movements without any effort, and his grin widens as he steps closer, his fingers caressing yours for a brief moment before retreating. In a way, you could say that the club... fades. The crowd, the chaos, all of it. It's just the two of you, caught in your dance, as your bodies move in sync. Every time he touches you, he makes sure it lingers—whether it’s a teasing brush along your wrist or a guiding press at your waist. Then, he leans in. It’s slow, deliberate. His lips hover near yours, his breath warm against your skin. His dark eyes flicker down, waiting, inviting. Your heart pounds, and not just from the alcohol or the music. [[Lean forward and kiss him.->kiss the guy, sober]] [[Tell him you're not interested but instead only want to dance.->just dance with the guy, sober]]

You drown in the beat, surrendering as the melody sweeps you away. The unknown man’s stare lingers briefly, but you refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, you pivot, shutting your eyes while the bass pulses deep in your ribs. Time blurs, figures shifting nearby—some pressing too near, others drifting apart. Fluorescent lights flicker in a chaotic display, but the thrill of movement is wearing thin. Your limbs ache, not from exhaustion but from overstimulation. The fire that once surged through you dims, replaced by the need for fresh air. You’re restless. The awareness settles in, heavy and unwelcome. Suddenly, the club is overwhelming—too deafening, too stifling. You crave space. Drawing a sharp inhale, you weave through the throng, steady as you push toward the door. The instant you break free, the crisp night air cools your skin, clearing the remnants of the night’s haze. The sidewalk feels solid beneath you, grounding. Your vehicle waits a few blocks away. The idea of collapsing into the driver’s seat, of finally heading home, is tempting. You roll your shoulders, exhaling slowly. You’re alert enough to drive. Do you get in and go? [[Drive yourself home.->drive home sober]] [[Call a cab.->call a cab, sober]] [[Go get a drink after all.]]

You know mixing drinks is a terrible idea, but honestly? You don’t care. Tonight isn’t about playing it safe—it’s about getting drunk. You glance at the bar, weighing your options. Screw it. Time for something different. What do you get? [[Vodka.->vodka after tequila]] [[Beer.->beer after tequila]]

You know mixing drinks is a terrible idea, but honestly? You don’t care. Tonight isn’t about playing it safe—it’s about getting drunk. You glance at the bar, weighing your options. Screw it. Time for something different. What do you get? [[Beer.->beer after vodka]] [[Tequila.->teq after vodka]]

You request another beverage. Then one more. The heat in your torso morphs into an inferno, your limbs heavy yet jittery. The space tilts, the noises surrounding you blending into an unintelligible murmur. You realize you’ve overindulged, but the notion barely lingers before you swallow another mouthful. And then—everything warps. Your stomach twists. The warmth in your skin turns damp, frigid. Your head feels disconnected from your body, your sight flickering in and out of clarity. You attempt to rise, but your knees collapse underneath you. The final sensation you register is the act of descending—voices surrounding you, urgent, muffled. Void. ... When awareness returns, it isn’t to flashing strobes or pulsing bass. It’s to the steady tone of a medical monitor, the clinical aroma of disinfectant, the pressure of a hospital sheet resting atop you. Your mouth is parched, your skull pounding, but you’re breathing. You fixate on the ceiling, your mind sluggish but coherent enough to grasp a singular truth: you’re fortunate. Fortunate that someone intervened. Fortunate that you never attempted to drive. Fortunate to have regained consciousness at all. Ending Two. [[Start over?]]

<<goto "vodka after tequila">>

You stumble toward your car, each step a little too heavy, a little too uneven. Your keys feel clumsy in your grip as you fumble with the lock. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe you should turn around, call that damn cab, and forget about the extra charge. But you’re already here. Already sliding into the driver’s seat. Already turning the key in the ignition. The engine rumbles to life, and you grip the wheel, forcing yourself to focus. You can do this. Just drive slowly. Keep it steady. Eyes on the road. The streetlights smear into golden streaks as you pull away, your vision swimming at the edges. The world outside feels too fluid, moving too fast, or maybe you’re the one who’s slow. You try to keep your hands steady, try to track the road, but your eyelids are heavier than they should be. Then—red and blue lights flash behind you. Shit. Blinking hazily, you pull over in slow motion. It will stop the car, and for one split second, all you can do is sit there and hold the wheel so tight that it feels as though it is the only thing keeping you from falling out of existence. A soft knock at the window. You roll it down, and—well. The policeman posted up there is… not how you'd expect him to be. His <<if $hair is "bl">>sunlit-gold<<elseif $hair is "br">>earthy chestnut<<elseif $hair is "b">>midnight-dark<<endif>> locks are slightly disheveled, catching the flicker of the rotating lights. His <<if $eyes is "br">>deep umber<<elseif $eyes is "bl">>icy sapphire<<elseif $eyes is "g">>luminous emerald<<endif>> gaze lingers on you. He is slender, his sharp cheekbones and neatly trimmed hair catching the city's glow. His uniform fits flawlessly, badge gleaming as shadows shift with his movements. Plush lips part, his voice smooth yet commanding. "Evenin’, sugar," he murmurs, tilting his head. "Any guesses why I had to stop you?" You part your lips, but the words stumble, caught somewhere between your thoughts and your tongue. You don’t even know what response would work in your favor. "Uh," you croak, throat dry. "Speeding?" He makes a sound, nails tapping lightly against the car’s frame. "Mmm. Wrong answer." You shift, suddenly hyperaware of the weight in your limbs, the way the world tilts if you move too quick. "Look," he exhales, crouching just a touch so his face hovers at your level. "I can smell the liquor on you, sweetheart. And seein’ as you’re blinking at me like a dazed little fawn, I’d wager you’re in no condition to be behind the wheel." Your breath hitches. "I’m good." "That so?" A single, elegant brow lifts. "Go on then, step out for me, darlin’. Nice and slow." [[Floor it. Perhaps you can outrun this.]] [[Do as he says and step out of the car.]] [[Use a legal argument.->Argue your way out of this—maybe you know a legal loophole.]]

You decide to call a cab. Maybe you're bored, maybe you're tired, or maybe the night just doesn’t feel fun anymore. Whatever the reason, you fumble for your phone, barely managing to open the app. Good thing you didn’t have to type in your destination thanks to GPS—because right now, everything is a mess of shifting lights and swirling colors. The screen swims in and out of focus, your fingers feeling clumsy, disconnected from the rest of you. Somehow, you get through it. Somehow, the cab arrives. The ride home is a blur, the motion of the car making everything tilt and spin even more. You lean your head against the window, eyes heavy, stomach uncertain. The streetlights streak past in smudged lines, the distant hum of the city fading into nothing. Then, you’re home. Safe. Maybe not entirely steady, but safe. Ending One. [[Start over?]]

You stumble away from the bar, the alcohol buzzing through your veins, making everything feel softer, looser. The music pulses, a deep, steady thrum that pulls at your body, and before you know it, your feet are carrying you to the dance floor. The world tilts slightly, but you don’t care. The beat is everything, rattling in your chest, drowning out your thoughts. Bodies move around you in a blur of heat and motion, the neon lights streaking across your vision. It’s dizzying, intoxicating, but you just let yourself sink into it. Then, you notice him. Tall, mid-20s—maybe older. Dark hair and sharp features that catch the flickering club lights just right. He moves with effortless confidence, like he belongs here, like the music bends for him. There’s something magnetic about him, something that cuts through the haze clouding your mind. He meets your gaze and grins, stepping closer, his body perfectly in sync with the beat. His eyes hold something playful, curious… inviting. Your head is spinning, but your confidence swells. The night is wide open, and for now, you don’t care where it leads. What do you do? [[Dance with him.->dance with the guy, drunk]] [[Keep dancing alone.->keep dancing alone, drunk]]

You stumble toward your car, each step a little too heavy, a little too uneven. Your keys feel clumsy in your grip as you fumble with the lock. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe you should turn around, call that damn cab, and forget about the extra charge. But you’re already here. Already sliding into the driver’s seat. Already turning the key in the ignition. You only had one drink, you should be fine, right? The engine rumbles to life, and you grip the wheel, forcing yourself to focus. You can do this. Just drive slowly. Keep it steady. Eyes on the road. The streetlights smear into golden streaks as you pull away, your vision swimming at the edges. The world outside feels too fluid, moving too fast, or maybe you’re the one who’s slow. You try to keep your hands steady, try to track the road, but your eyelids are heavier than they should be. Then—red and blue lights flash behind you. Shit. Blinking hazily, you pull over in slow motion. It will stop the car, and for one split second, all you can do is sit there and hold the wheel so tight that it feels as though it is the only thing keeping you from falling out of existence. A soft knock at the window. You roll it down, and—well. The policeman posted up there is… not how you'd expect him to be. His <<if $hair is "bl">>sunlit-gold<<elseif $hair is "br">>earthy chestnut<<elseif $hair is "b">>midnight-dark<<endif>> locks are slightly disheveled, catching the flicker of the rotating lights. His <<if $eyes is "br">>deep umber<<elseif $eyes is "bl">>icy sapphire<<elseif $eyes is "g">>luminous emerald<<endif>> gaze lingers on you. He is slender, his sharp cheekbones and neatly trimmed hair catching the city's glow. His uniform fits flawlessly, badge gleaming as shadows shift with his movements. Plush lips part, his voice smooth yet commanding. "Evenin’, sugar," he murmurs, tilting his head. "Any guesses why I had to stop you?" You part your lips, but the words stumble, caught somewhere between your thoughts and your tongue. You don’t even know what response would work in your favor. "Uh," you croak, throat dry. "Speeding?" He makes a sound, nails tapping lightly against the car’s frame. "Mmm. Wrong answer." You shift, suddenly hyperaware of the weight in your limbs, the way the world tilts if you move too quick. "Look," he exhales, crouching just a touch so his face hovers at your level. "I can smell the liquor on you, sweetheart. And seein’ as you’re blinking at me like a dazed little fawn, I’d wager you’re in no condition to be behind the wheel." Your breath hitches. "I’m good." "That so?" A single, elegant brow lifts. "Go on then, step out for me, darlin’. Nice and slow." [[Floor it. Perhaps you can outrun this.]] [[Do as he says and step out of the car.]] [[Use a legal argument.->Argue your way out of this—maybe you know a legal loophole.]]

You grab your phone and open the taxi app. Maybe you don’t feel that drunk, maybe you’re convinced you could get home no problem—but you’re not about to gamble on it. Not with your life, not with anyone else’s. Being a grown-up means making the smart choice, even when it’s a pain. The car arrives within minutes. You slide into the back seat, letting out a slow breath as the driver pulls away from the curb. You feel at ease. No stress, no danger—just a quiet ride home. Your car will still be there in the morning, waiting. You’ll deal with it then—when there’s no chance of making a mistake, legal or otherwise. Ending Four. [[Start over?]]

You drown in the beat, surrendering as the melody sweeps you away. The unknown man’s stare lingers briefly, but you refuse to acknowledge it. Instead, you pivot, shutting your eyes while the bass pulses deep in your ribs. Time blurs, figures shifting nearby—some pressing too near, others drifting apart. Fluorescent lights flicker in a chaotic display, yet the thrill of movement is wearing thin. Your limbs feel sluggish, your steps losing energy. The fire that once surged through you dims, replaced by the dull weight of fatigue. You’re restless. The awareness settles in, heavy and unwelcome. Suddenly, the club is overwhelming—too deafening, too stifling. You crave space. Drawing a sharp inhale, you weave through the throng, unsteady as you push toward the door. The instant you break free, the crisp night air bites against your fevered skin. The world tilts, the sidewalk uncertain beneath you. Yeah, you’re still intoxicated. Your vehicle waits a few blocks away. The idea of collapsing into the driver’s seat, of finally heading home, is tempting. But… your thoughts are hazy, and your body is sluggish, untrustworthy. Do you take the chance? [[Drive yourself home.->drive drunk]] [[Call a cab.->call a cab, drunk]]

This game contains a total of 82,237 words, while the demo has 29,656. You can buy the full game on <a href="https://payhip.com/b/xTpEX" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Payhip</a> for £1.99. You’ll be able to explore both top and bottom roles, along with a variety of [[sex scenes]]. Want full access to all my games? Subscribe to my Patreon for just $2.99 (link in the description). Already a subscriber? Claim your game through the <a href="https://octiwriter.itch.io/a-corrupt-femboy-officer/patreon-access" target="_blank">provided link</a>. This game is strictly for mature audiences (18+). By playing, you acknowledge and agree to the [[Terms of Service->lang for tos]]. [[Continue.->Untitled Passage]]

This game features: - Anal play - Oral play - Fingering - Handcuffing - Switch roles (Top/Bottom) - Cum consumption - A corrupt officer character - Rimming - Multiple orgasms [[Go back.|Untitled Passage 1]]

<div style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;padding:20px;color:#FFFFFF;"><h1 style="text-align:center;color:#FF66B2;">TERMS OF SERVICE</h1><p style="margin:0;"><strong>Last Updated:</strong> 14th of February 2025</p><p style="margin:0;">Welcome to <strong>A Corrupt Femboy Officer</strong> ("Game"). By accessing or using this Game, you agree to these Terms of Service ("Terms"). If you do not agree, you must not use the Game.</p><hr style="border:1px solid #ccc;"><h2 style="color:#FF66B2;">1. GENERAL TERMS</h2><ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#FFFFFF;"><li>You must be at least <strong>18 years old</strong> to access this Game.</li><li>This Game is provided <strong>"as is"</strong> without warranties.</li><li>The developers <strong>do not endorse illegal activities</strong>.</li><li>This Game is <strong>fictional</strong> and for entertainment purposes only.</li><li>By using this Game, you acknowledge that it is not intended to provide advice, encouragement, or guidance for real-life actions.</li></ul><hr style="border:1px solid #ccc;"><h2 style="color:#FF66B2;">2. RESPONSIBLE BEHAVIOR & LEGAL DISCLAIMER</h2><p style="margin:0;color:#FFFFFF;"><strong>OBEY ALL LAWS</strong></p><ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#FFFFFF;"><li>Do not drive under the influence or break any laws.</li><li><strong>Illegal activities, including but not limited to traffic violations, are prohibited.</strong></li><li>This Game <strong>does not promote</strong> unlawful behavior of any kind.</li><li>If you engage in illegal activities, you do so <strong>at your own risk</strong> and bear full responsibility.</li><li>Any real-life consequences of your actions are solely your own liability.</li><li>The developers are <strong>not responsible</strong> for your choices, actions, or any resulting harm, legal consequences, or damages.</li><li>By using this Game, you agree that you will not hold the developers, distributors, or any affiliated parties liable for any legal, financial, physical, emotional, or other consequences arising from your actions.</li><li>By accessing this Game, you waive any claims against its creator(s) for real-world consequences of your actions.</li><li>This Game is not a guide, encouragement, or instruction manual for real-life decisions.</li></ul><p style="margin:0;color:#FFFFFF;"><strong>LEGAL FRAMEWORK</strong></p><ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#FFFFFF;"><li><strong>EU:</strong> DUI is prohibited under Directive 2006/126/EC.</li><li><strong>US:</strong> DUI laws vary by state but follow 23 U.S.C. § 163.</li><li><strong>Other Countries:</strong> Know and follow your local laws.</li></ul><p style="margin:0;color:#FFFFFF;"><strong>LIMITATION OF LIABILITY</strong></p><ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#FFFFFF;"><li>This Game is <strong>fictional</strong> and does <strong>not</strong> encourage illegal activities.</li><li>Any perceived resemblance to real-life events, individuals, or organizations is purely coincidental.</li><li>The developers do not assume responsibility for player interpretation or application of in-game content.</li><li>Breaking the law will <strong>not</strong> lead to positive experiences.</li><li>If any portion of these Terms is found to be unenforceable, the remainder shall still apply in full force.</li><li>By playing this Game, you <strong>fully accept</strong> that you are responsible for your own actions.</li></ul><hr style="border:1px solid #ccc;"><h2 style="color:#FF66B2;">3. RESTRICTIONS & PROHIBITED USES</h2><ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#FFFFFF;"><li>Do not use the Game for illegal or unauthorized purposes.</li><li>Do not share, distribute, or modify the Game without permission.</li><li>Do not engage in harassment, abuse, or any unlawful behavior while using the Game.</li></ul><hr style="border:1px solid #ccc;"><h2 style="color:#FF66B2;">4. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</h2><ul style="margin:0;padding-left:20px;color:#FFFFFF;"><li>No part of this Game may be copied, distributed, or modified without permission.</li><li>This Game is the <strong>intellectual property</strong> of its creator.</li></ul><hr style="border:1px solid #ccc;"><h2 style="color:#FF66B2;">5. CHANGES TO TERMS</h2><p style="margin:0;color:#FFFFFF;">These Terms may change at any time. Updates take effect upon posting.</p><hr style="border:1px solid #ccc;"><h2 style="color:#FF66B2;">6. CONTACT</h2><p style="margin:0;color:#FFFFFF;">For questions, contact: octiwriter@gmail.com.<br><strong>By using this Game, you acknowledge that you have read, understood, and agreed to these Terms.</strong></p></div> [[Go back.|Untitled Passage 1]]

You sway slightly as you pull out your phone, blinking against the blur of streetlights. Maybe you don’t feel that drunk. Maybe you could get home just fine. But the thought of gripping the wheel, of trusting your reflexes in this state? No. You’re not about to gamble on that—not with your life, not with anyone else’s. You sigh and tap open the taxi app. Being a responsible adult isn’t always convenient, but at least it keeps you from making the kind of mistake you can’t take back. The car arrives within minutes, the headlights cutting through the night. You slide into the back seat, the cool leather soothing against your overheated skin. As the driver pulls away from the curb, you let out a slow breath, sinking into the seat. No stress, no danger—just a quiet ride home, the city lights flickering past the window. Your car will still be there in the morning, waiting. You’ll deal with it then—when your head is clear, your body steady, and there’s no risk of a bad decision following you into the next day. Ending Six. [[Start over?]]

You don’t think too hard about it, and the alcohol probably had a say in that as well. Instead, you just do it. Your body sways into his, unsteady but eager, and your lips find his in a fleeting press, sloppy from the alcohol coursing through you. He tastes like liquor and heat, his breath thick with the remnants of whatever he was drinking. The kiss isn’t careful. It isn’t deep. It’s just messy and impulsive, the kind that doesn’t mean anything beyond the thrum of the bass and the buzz in your veins. His hands grip your waist, firm but loose, like he’s not holding on to anything serious—just something fun. And fleeting. Your head spins slightly when you pull back, but you’re grinning, and so is he. There’s no expectation in his gaze. Only amusement, playfulness, the kind of moment that dissolves as easily as the next song. And just like that, you keep moving. Your bodies still in sync, still caught in the pulse of the club, lips occasionally meeting again—brief, reckless kisses that mean nothing and everything all at once. [[Ask him to take this elsewhere.->take this elsewhere, drunk]] [[Just keep dancing, kissing occasionally.->keep dancing, kissing, drunk]]

Even with the alcohol warming your veins, you turn your head away, letting his breath miss its mark, and keep moving to the beat. ... After a while, he steps back, looking a little tired. “I’m gonna head out,” he says, offering a small smile. “You’re a good dancer, though. Had fun. Maybe I’ll see you again.” With that, he disappears into the crowd, and you're left standing there, the music still pounding around you. [[You too, go home.->go home, alone]] [[Go get more drinks.->more drinks, alone]]

You don’t think too much about this either—just like the kiss, or the dancing. The night’s been about impulse, about feeling instead of overthinking, and right now, you feel like having some //fun//. The //sexy// kind of fun. So, between the press of bodies and the pulse of the music, you lean in, voice low and teasing, hoping he gets the drift. "Wanna get out of here?" He just smiles. Not the kind of smirk you were hoping for, not the playful glint that says hell yes. Just… a small, amused smile. "Sorry, man. I don’t do hookups." The words hit faster than they should, cutting through the pleasant haze of alcohol. Your body still hums with the rhythm of the club, but your confidence? Yeah, that takes a hit. You blink, trying to process. "So you kiss random guys, but… you don’t hook up with them?" He shrugs, casually, like this conversation isn’t even a little bit embarrassing for you. "I mean, yeah. I know it’s weird, but… I dunno. Making out and dancing with someone isn’t the same as fucking, you know?" You let that settle. He’s not wrong. It makes sense, even if it’s not the answer you wanted. "Oh. Okay. I understand that." And you do. Even if the sting of rejection lingers, even if the alcohol makes it feel just a little sharper than it should. [[Dance for a bit more with him.->dance more with him, drunk]] [[Just go home.->go home after rejection, drunk]]

You keep moving together, kissing occasionally—just quick, sloppy presses of lips that feel easy and fun, nothing more. The music's louder now, the beat still pulling at you both. After a while, he steps back, looking a little tired. “I’m gonna head out,” he says, offering a small smile. “You’re a good dancer, though. Had fun. Maybe I’ll see you again.” With that, he disappears into the crowd, and you're left standing there, the music still pounding around you. [[You too, go home.->go home, alone]] [[Go get more drinks.->more drinks, alone]]

Being rejected sucks, even if that feeling is decreased by the alcohol coursing through your body. You inhale a sharp breath, trying to rid yourself off the uncomfortable feeling that's creeping up the nape of your neck. "Okay, I have to go now... I'm tired." The words come out... flat? It's more like you're trying to convince him more than yourself. He nods, offering you a polite smile. "Alright, man. See ya." It's very awkward. Neither of you know what to say next, so you simply stand for a second, eyes not meeting. "Okay. See you." You wave as you turn to leave, the beat of the club already fading behind you. You get outside. You can't help feeling an idiot for getting your hopes up. But at least you don't have to be in there any longer. You want to go home, but the world tilts, the sidewalk uncertain beneath you. Yeah, you’re still intoxicated. Your vehicle waits a few blocks away. The idea of collapsing into the driver’s seat, of finally heading home, is tempting. But… your thoughts are hazy, and your body is sluggish, untrustworthy. Do you take the chance? [[Drive yourself home.->drive drunk after rejection]] [[Call a cab.->call a cab, drunk, rejection]]

You stumble toward your car, each step a little too heavy, a little too uneven. The rejection still stings, and it kinda makes thinking straight hard. No pun intended. Your keys feel clumsy in your grip as you fumble with the lock. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this. Maybe you should turn around, call that damn cab, and forget about the extra charge. But you’re already here. Already sliding into the driver’s seat. Already turning the key in the ignition. The engine rumbles to life, and you grip the wheel, forcing yourself to focus. You can do this. Just drive slowly. Keep it steady. Eyes on the road. The streetlights smear into golden streaks as you pull away, your vision swimming at the edges. The world outside feels too fluid, moving too fast, or maybe you’re the one who’s slow. You try to keep your hands steady, try to track the road, but your eyelids are heavier than they should be. Then—red and blue lights flash behind you. Shit. Blinking hazily, you pull over in slow motion. It will stop the car, and for one split second, all you can do is sit there and hold the wheel so tight that it feels as though it is the only thing keeping you from falling out of existence. A soft knock at the window. You roll it down, and—well. The policeman posted up there is… not how you'd expect him to be. His <<if $hair is "bl">>sunlit-gold<<elseif $hair is "br">>earthy chestnut<<elseif $hair is "b">>midnight-dark<<endif>> locks are slightly disheveled, catching the flicker of the rotating lights. His <<if $eyes is "br">>deep umber<<elseif $eyes is "bl">>icy sapphire<<elseif $eyes is "g">>luminous emerald<<endif>> gaze lingers on you. He is slender, his sharp cheekbones and neatly trimmed hair catching the city's glow. His uniform fits flawlessly, badge gleaming as shadows shift with his movements. Plush lips part, his voice smooth yet commanding. "Evenin’, sugar," he murmurs, tilting his head. "Any guesses why I had to stop you?" You part your lips, but the words stumble, caught somewhere between your thoughts and your tongue. You don’t even know what response would work in your favor. "Uh," you croak, throat dry. "Speeding?" He makes a sound, nails tapping lightly against the car’s frame. "Mmm. Wrong answer." You shift, suddenly hyperaware of the weight in your limbs, the way the world tilts if you move too quick. "Look," he exhales, crouching just a touch so his face hovers at your level. "I can smell the liquor on you, sweetheart. And seein’ as you’re blinking at me like a dazed little fawn, I’d wager you’re in no condition to be behind the wheel." Your breath hitches. "I’m good." "That so?" A single, elegant brow lifts. "Go on then, step out for me, darlin’. Nice and slow." [[Floor it. Perhaps you can outrun this.]] [[Do as he says and step out of the car.]] [[Use a legal argument.->Argue your way out of this—maybe you know a legal loophole.]]

You sway slightly as you pull out your phone, blinking against the blur of streetlights. Maybe you don’t feel that drunk. Maybe you could get home just fine. But the thought of gripping the wheel, of trusting your reflexes in this state, especially after being rejected? No. You’re not about to gamble on that—not with your life, not with anyone else’s. You know you can't think straight right now. No pun intended. You sigh and tap open the taxi app. Being a responsible adult isn’t always convenient, but at least it keeps you from making the kind of mistake you can’t take back. The car arrives within minutes, the headlights cutting through the night. You slide into the back seat, the cool leather soothing against your overheated skin. As the driver pulls away from the curb, you let out a slow breath, sinking into the seat. No stress, no danger—just a quiet ride home, the city lights flickering past the window. Your car will still be there in the morning, waiting. You’ll deal with it then—when your head is clear, your body steady, and there’s no risk of a bad decision following you into the next day. Ending Nine. [[Start over?]]

You go to your car, and from all the dancing every movement feels heavier than the one before. The idea of having to drive feels like a chore. Sinking into the driver’s seat, you clutch the steering wheel and draw in a breath. Just try to stay aware. Drive slowly and steadily. You’ve got this, man. The engine growls, and you pull out to drive, your eyes squinting against the strobing glare of streetlights. Exhaustion clings to you, attempting to drag you under, but you keep your hold, your eyes locked on the road. The drive isn't flawless, but before long, you're pulling into your regular parking space, the familiar outline of home a soothing balm. You're home. Next time, you might just take that ride instead. Ending Eleven. [[Start over?]]

You sway slightly as you pull out your phone, blinking against the blur of streetlights. You’re not intoxicated—just worn out. Maybe you could drive home just fine, but the thought of gripping the wheel, of focusing through your exhaustion? No. You’re not in the mood to push through that—not when there’s an easier option. You sigh and tap open the taxi app. Being practical isn’t always convenient, but at least it saves you the hassle of a late-night drive when all you want is to shut your eyes and be home already. The car arrives within minutes, the headlights cutting through the night. You slide into the back seat, the cool leather soothing against your overheated skin. As the driver pulls away from the curb, you let out a slow breath, sinking into the seat. No stress, no effort—just a quiet ride home, the city lights flickering past the window. Your car will still be there in the morning, waiting. You’ll deal with it then—when you’re rested, clear-headed, and actually feel like driving. Ending Ten. [[Start over?]]

You go back and head towards the bar. The bartender’s attention goes to you as you approach. You make eye contact, and he gives you a quick nod. The bar is well-stocked, bottles of various liquors gleaming under the low lights, but your mind is already set on what you want. [[Tequila.]] [[Vodka.]] [[Beer.]]

You don’t think too hard about it—you just do it. Your body sways into his, eager and electric, and your lips find his in a fleeting press. There’s a hint of liquor on his breath, the warmth of the moment fusing between you. The kiss isn’t careful. It isn’t deep. It’s just messy and impulsive, the kind that doesn’t mean anything beyond the thrum of the bass and the energy thrumming beneath your skin. His hands grip your waist, firm but loose, like he’s not holding on to anything serious—just something fun. And fleeting. When you pull back, you’re grinning, and so is he. There’s no expectation in his gaze. Only amusement, playfulness—the kind of moment that dissolves as easily as the next song. And just like that, you keep moving. Your bodies still in sync, still caught in the pulse of the club, lips occasionally meeting again—brief, reckless kisses that mean nothing and everything all at once. [[Ask him to take this elsewhere.->take this elsewhere, sober]] [[Just keep dancing, kissing occasionally.->keep dancing, kissing, sober]]

You keep dancing with the guy. ... After a while, he steps back, looking a little tired. “I’m gonna head out,” he says, offering a small smile. “You’re a good dancer, though. Had fun. Maybe I’ll see you again.” With that, he disappears into the crowd, and you're left standing there, the music still pounding around you. [[You too, go home.->decide to go home, sober]] [[Go get more drinks.->more drinks, alone]]

You don’t think too much about this either—just like the kiss, or the dancing. The night’s been about impulse, about feeling instead of overthinking, and right now, you feel like having some //fun//. The //sexy// kind of fun. So, between the press of bodies and the beat of the music, you lean in, voice low and teasing, hoping he gets the drift. "Wanna get out of here?" He just smiles. Not the kind of smirk you were hoping for, not the playful glint that says //hell yes//. Just… a small, amused smile. "Sorry, man. I don’t do hookups." The words hit faster than they should, cutting through the rush of the moment. Your body still hums with the rhythm of the club, but your confidence? Yeah, that takes a hit. You blink, trying to process what just happened. "So you kiss random guys, but… you don’t hook up with them?" He casually shrugs, giving no thought to the fact that you are so embarrassed right now you'd like to climb under the nearest rock and die. "I mean, yeah. I know it's weird, but... I dunno. Making out and dancing with someone isn't sex, you know?" You let that settle. He’s not wrong. It makes sense, even if it’s not the answer you wanted. "Oh. Okay. I understand that." And you do. Even if the sting of rejection lingers, even if the moment feels just a little sharper than it should. [[Dance for a bit more with him.->dance more with him, sober]] [[Just go home.->go home after rejection, sober]]

You keep moving together, kissing occasionally—just quick, sloppy presses of lips that feel easy and fun, nothing more. The music's louder now, the beat still pulling at you both. After a while, he steps back, looking a little tired. “I’m gonna head out,” he says, offering a small smile. “You’re a good dancer, though. Had fun. Maybe I’ll see you again.” With that, he disappears into the crowd, and you're left standing there, the music still pounding around you. [[Get yourself something to drink.->go get a drink, the guy is not around anymore]] [[Go home.->go home sober]]

He nods, smiling. “Fair enough.” You keep dancing, the music filling the space between you. No tension, just rhythm. After a while, he leans in. “I should head out. This was fun.” [[Go home.->go home, sober]] [[Go get yourself a drink after all.->go get a drink, the guy is not around anymore]]

Being rejected sucks, and being sober isn't helping right now either. You inhale a sharp breath, trying to rid yourself off the uncomfortable feeling that's creeping up the nape of your neck. "Okay, I have to go now... I'm tired." The words come out... flat? It's more like you're trying to convince him more than yourself. He nods, offering you a polite smile. "Alright, man. See ya." It's very awkward. Neither of you know what to say next, so you simply stand for a second, eyes not meeting. "Okay. See you." You wave as you turn to leave, the beat of the club already fading behind you. You get outside. You can't help feeling an idiot for getting your hopes up. But at least you don't have to be in there any longer. Your vehicle waits a few blocks away. The idea of collapsing into the driver’s seat, of finally heading home, is tempting. You roll your shoulders, exhaling slowly. You’re alert enough to drive. Do you get in and go? [[Drive yourself home.->drive home sober]] [[Call a cab.->call a cab, sober]] [[Go get a drink after all.->go get a drink, the guy is not around anymore]]

<<goto "Floor it while you still can.">>

You don't bother arguing. You step out of the car, never taking your eyes off the officer. At first, he just watches you, in a way that says he wants to punish you. That makes your skin prickle. "Hands where I can see 'em," he says, his voice smooth. His tone carries authority, and you comply, lifting your arms slightly. His eyes flick over your hands, then to your face. You feel him approach, the space between you narrowing. His gaze never wavers. Then, he starts patting you down, methodically. You try to stand still, but the weight of his touch, the slow, searching motions, make your skin tighten with a mix of nerves and... //something else//. His hands are firm yet gentle as they move over your sides and waist, the search dragging on longer than it should. His fingers graze the inside of your jacket and waistband, as though he's savoring each moment. You can’t shake the feeling he’s enjoying this slow, deliberate exploration. [["Why are you searching me?"]] [[Ask him what his name is.]] [[...]]

You swallow. "Actually, officer, you can’t pull me over like this. I haven’t been erratic, and you don’t have probable cause for a sobriety test." You try to sound like you know the law. The officer’s eyes narrow, amusement flickering. "Is that so? I literally saw you swerving and I can smell the booze. Oh, and your eyes are bloodshot." Your heart's beating so hard, you feel like it's going to burst. He leans in. "Last chance. Step out of the car now." Your stomach twists. [[Get out of the car.]] [[Floor it while you still can.]]

You step out of the car, never taking your eyes off the officer. At first, he just watches you, in a way that says he wants to punish you. That makes your skin prickle. "Hands where I can see 'em," he says, his voice smooth. His tone carries authority, and you comply, lifting your arms slightly. His eyes flick over your hands, then to your face. You feel him approach, the space between you narrowing. His gaze never wavers. Then, he starts patting you down, methodically. You try to stand still, but the weight of his touch, the slow, searching motions, make your skin tighten with a mix of nerves and... //something else//. His hands are firm yet gentle as they move over your sides and waist, the search dragging on longer than it should. His fingers graze the inside of your jacket and waistband, as though he's savoring each moment. You can’t shake the feeling he’s enjoying this slow, deliberate exploration. [["Why are you searching me?"]] [[Ask him what his name is.]] [[...]]

At that moment, panic claws at you. You’re not going down like this—not with the officer breathing down your neck. The rational part of you screams to stop, to face the consequences, but the reckless side, the side fueled by desperation, takes charge. You slam your foot down on the accelerator. The engine roars, and the car shoots forward, tires squealing as you break through the night’s stillness. For a split second, it feels like you’re in control, but the officer’s voice fades behind you, replaced by the rush of adrenaline. You push faster, harder. Then— Impact. A metallic crunch. A violent jolt. The screech of tires, the sharp, sickening snap of your body being flung forward. Pain bursts through you like a firework. Then nothing. When you come to, it’s chaos. Blurred lights, voices shouting, the wail of a siren cutting through the night. Your head pounds. Your body aches. Blood—yours? Someone else’s?—sticks to your skin. You’re alive. The realization seeps in slowly, followed by something colder, heavier. The cab would’ve cost, what, twenty dollars? Thirty? And now you’ve got medical bills that’ll drain you dry. You’ll be paying for this mistake for years. And that’s if you’re lucky. You could’ve died. You could’ve killed someone. The weight of it sits like a stone in your gut. You thought you were fine, thought you could handle it—but the rules aren’t there to inconvenience you. They exist to protect you. And not just you—everyone. Other drivers. Pedestrians. People who trusted that the laws would keep them safe from reckless idiots like you. You were a fool to think you were the exception. Now, as you lie there in the wreckage of your own bad decision, the guilt sinks its teeth into you, deeper than the pain ever could. And then the legal nightmare begins. Charges for reckless driving. Driving under the influence. Evading an officer. Those last few minutes of panic now carry the weight of your future. Court dates, fines, a suspended license... the consequences pile on, and they’re only beginning. Ending Eight. [[Start over?]]

Your voice comes out steadier than you expect. "Why are you searching me?" He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even look up. His fingers brush over your waistband again, slow, deliberate. "Standard procedure, sugar," he murmurs. "Gotta make sure you’re not hidin’ anything." [[...->2 ...]]

His fingers brush against something. A tiny bag. Your heart stops. The officer pulls it out, holding it between two fingers. A tiny plastic bag filled with a white, powdery substance. Your breath catches. What the hell? That’s not yours. It was planted. Someone at the club? //Him//? His expression is unreadable as he holds it up, letting the streetlights illuminate the damning evidence. "Well, well," he murmurs, lips curling slightly. "Looks like we got ourselves a little problem, don't we?" Your pulse pounds as you process the situation. You need to act—fast. [[Try to sweet-talk your way out.]] [[Flirt with the officer.]] [[Try to bribe him.]] [[Explain how that can't be yours.]] [[Punch him, get in your car, and flee.]]

His fingers brush against something. A tiny bag. Your heart stops. The officer pulls it out, holding it between two fingers. A small plastic bag filled with a white, powdery substance. Your breath catches. What the hell? That’s not yours. It was planted. Someone at the club? //Him//? He smirks. "Well, well, would you look at that," he murmurs. Your pulse pounds as you process the situation. You need to act—fast. [[Try to sweet-talk your way out.]] [[Flirt with the officer.]] [[Try to bribe him.]] [[Explain how that can't be yours.]] [[Punch him, get in your car, and flee.]]

You’re driving, focused on the road, when the red and blue lights flash behind you. Shit. You pull over, rolling the window down to meet the officer’s gaze. His <<if $hair is "bl">>sunlit-gold<<elseif $hair is "br">>earthy chestnut<<elseif $hair is "b">>midnight-dark<<endif>> hair flickers in the rotating lights, and his <<if $eyes is "br">>deep umber<<elseif $eyes is "bl">>icy sapphire<<elseif $eyes is "g">>luminous emerald<<endif>> gaze studies you. "Evening. Any idea why I stopped you?" he asks. "Speeding?" you reply. He taps the car. "Nope. Let’s try again." He leans in, eyes narrowing. "I smell alcohol. You’re not fit to drive." "I haven’t been drinking," you protest. He pulls out a breathalyzer and holds it up. "Blow into this." You do, and it registers positive. "I’m sober," you say, confused. The officer smirks. "Step out of the vehicle. Nice and slow." You know the breathalyzer is rigged, but you can’t prove it. "Step out." [[Floor it. Perhaps you can outrun this.]] [[Do as he says and step out of the car.]] [[Use a legal argument.->Argue your way out of this—maybe you know a legal loophole.]]

You tilt your head a bit, curious. "So... what's your name?" you ask. "Officer Adrian Locke," he responds as he continues his search. [["Why are you searching me?"]] [[...]]

You force a nervous smile, easing your tone. "Come on, officer… this has to be a mistake. I don't look like a drug user, right? You seem like an open-minded guy—let’s work something out?" "Yeah, no. That act won’t help. Turn around. Hands behind your back." "Wait—" You barely start to protest before he's spinning you around, cold metal biting into your wrists. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you." His voice fades as the patrol car door slams. That bag wasn’t yours. But who put it there? Someone from the club… or him? The engine roars, the car speeding off. [[Accuse the officer of planting it.]] [[Stay quiet.]]

You remain calm. "Oh... are you gonna punish me, officer?" You ask suggestively. The officer’s cheeks flush, your words catching him off guard. He stutters, but only for a moment. "N-no. That’s up for the judge." You smirk. He moves forward, his hands gripping your arms and spinning you around. You hear a click as he handcuffs you. "Mhm... kinky," you murmur, amused. [[Say you like being handcuffed.]] [[Tell him it’s fine for him to cuff you, even if you're usually the one doing the cuffing.]] [[Say you'd rather handcuff him instead.]]

You try to stay calm, but you stutter as you speak. "L-look, I can pay you. How much? Please, just let me go." "Yeah... no. And that’ll be used against you in court." The words hit hard. Your stomach drops as he steps closer. "Turn around. Hands behind your back." His hands twist you around, cuffing your wrists with a sharp click. Humiliation floods your face. "You’re being taken into custody for possession. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you." He says, satisfying with his //catch//. His words blur as panic drowns everything else. The patrol car door opens, and you’re shoved inside. That bag wasn’t yours. But who put it there? Someone at the club... or him? The engine roars to life before the car drives off. [[Accuse the officer of planting it.]] [[Stay quiet.]]

Your heart pounds in your chest, wild and threatening to shatter. Fear crashes in, your body soaked in cold sweat. If you hadn’t been driving tonight, none of this would be happening. "I—I don’t do that shit!" The words spill out in panic. "I swear, I don’t use drugs! Something must’ve put it in—maybe at the club, or—" Your eyes lock with his, accusation tightening your chest. The officer tilts his head, his face impassive except for a brief grin. "They all say so," he whispers, his voice smooth. "Turn around. Hands behind your back." A wave of sickness twists your gut, but before you can react, his grip swings you around. The clank of handcuffs snaps around your wrists, humiliation heating your face. No. This isn’t possible. "You’re under arrest for possession," he says flatly. "You’re entitled to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used in court. You’re entitled to an attorney—" His words fade, lost under the pulsing in your head. Your ears ring, pulse thunders. The patrol car door slams, the cold leather swallowing you. The scent of cologne mixes with the sterile air. All you feel is the pressure of the cuffs and dread coiling in your gut. That bag wasn’t yours. But who put it there? A clubgoer? Or him? The engine roars to life, tires screeching as the car moves. [[Accuse the officer of planting it.]] [[Stay quiet.]]

Your body moves before your brain catches up. Panic surges through you like wildfire, and before you can stop yourself— your fist connects with his jaw. The officer’s eyes widen in shock, but only for a split second. Then his head snaps to the side, and he crumples to the ground, limp. Your breath is ragged. Hands shaking. Shit. Shit. There’s no time to think. No time to check if he’s still breathing. Your survival instincts scream at you— run. You lunge for your car, yanking the door open with trembling fingers. The engine roars to life, tires screeching against the pavement as you peel out of there. Your pulse slams against your ribs, every streetlight flashing past a blur. But in the chaos… you don’t see it. How his fingers had curled just enough to scribble something down before he hit the pavement. Your license plate. ... The next morning, the cops are at your door. There’s no warning. No time to hide. Just the heavy knock, the demand to open up. And when you do—there’s no mistaking what this is. You’re thrown against the wall, cold metal snapping around your wrists. "You're under arrest for assaulting a police officer and possession of a controlled substance." Your stomach twists. Possession? No— no, it wasn’t mine! But that doesn’t matter now. Because you ran. Because you hit him. The bag? No prints. But that doesn’t prove anything anymore. Not when you fled the scene like a guilty man. And the judge doesn’t take kindly to that. Sentenced: Three years. One for the drugs. Two for the assault. You sit in that cold, grey cell, staring at the wall, knowing exactly when it all went wrong. Ending Eleven [[Start over?]]

You grit your teeth, your pulse hammering as you glare at his reflection in the rearview mirror. "Look, I know that shit wasn’t mine. I don’t do drugs. If you check the security footage from the bar, you’ll probably see someone slipping it inside my pocket." "And why would anyone want to do that?" You catch him grinning in the rearview mirror. "I don’t fucking know! There’s a lot of sick, twisted people out there doing weird shit." But even as you say it, you come up empty. Why would someone go through the trouble of doing that? "I don’t think anyone had a reason for that," he says, voice laced with amusement. "Either way, I’m obligated to arrest you." A cold weight settles in your gut. Your voice drops, sharp with accusation. "...Then you did it. You put that there." The officer lets out a laugh, shaking his head. "And why the hell would I do that?" You scowl. "I don’t know. Maybe you get a raise for every poor bastard you lock up?" "Yeah, it doesn’t work like that," he replies smoothly. "Or maybe," you continue, voice dripping venom, "you’re just a sick, twisted sociopath who gets off on making people’s lives miserable. You liked arresting me." He exhales a soft chuckle, not even offended. "Yes, I find pleasure in doing my job—in keeping society safe from criminals like you. There’s nothing wrong with doing what I’m paid to do." "But it’s not mine," you grind out. "That’s not up to me to decide," he says simply. [[...->MC getting arrested 1]]

You grit your teeth, your pulse hammering as you stare at the officer’s reflection in the rearview mirror. That bag wasn’t yours. You don’t do drugs. It was planted—maybe by someone at the bar, or by him. Maybe he gets a bonus for every arrest. Or maybe he’s just the type to enjoy ruining someone’s life. The idea nags at you. Why go through all that trouble? Was it really worth it to frame you? Maybe it was a power move, an easy win for a guy looking to climb the ranks. Or perhaps he’s just twisted enough to get off on it. The weight in your gut grows heavier as the car hums along. You keep your eyes on the mirror, but you don’t know for sure. You can’t prove it, and you’re not sure how far he'd go to cover his tracks. But as the car speeds on, you wonder—maybe this is just his idea of doing his job. [[...->MC getting arrested 1]]

"You know... I like being handcuffed." He raises an eyebrow behind you as he leads you toward the patrol car. "Yeah?" His voice dips, teasing. "That get you all hot and bothered or something?" [[Say yes.]] [[Say maybe.]] [[Say you’re not sure.]] [[Say nothing.]]

"You know... I'm usually the one doing the cuffing, officer, but... I don't mind the change." He raises an eyebrow behind you as he leads you toward the patrol car. "Oh, yeah?" His voice dips, teasing. "Would that get you all hot and bothered or something?" [[Say yes.]] [[Say maybe.]] [[Say you’re not sure.]] [[Say nothing.]]

"You know... I'd rather handcuff you instead, officer." He raises an eyebrow behind you as he leads you toward the patrol car. "Oh, yeah?" His voice dips, teasing. "Would that get you all hot and bothered or something?" [[Say yes.]] [[Say maybe.]] [[Say you’re not sure.]] [[Say nothing.]]

"Yes," you reply confidently. The officer pauses, then mutters, "...Fuck... You’re being taken into custody for possession of illicit substances. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you." The patrol car door slams, the cold leather swallowing you. The scent of cologne mixes with the sterile air. All you feel is the pressure of the cuffs and dread coiling in your gut. That bag wasn’t yours. But who put it there? A clubgoer? Or him? The engine roars to life, tires screeching as the car moves. [[Accuse the officer of planting it.]] [[Stay quiet.]]

"Maybe," you reply quietly. The officer pauses, then mutters, "...Fuck... You’re being taken into custody for possession of illicit substances. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you." The patrol car door slams, the cold leather swallowing you. The scent of cologne mixes with the sterile air. All you feel is the pressure of the cuffs and dread coiling in your gut. That bag wasn’t yours. But who put it there? A clubgoer? Or him? The engine roars to life, tires screeching as the car moves. [[Accuse the officer of planting it.]] [[Stay quiet.]]

"I don't know..." you reply, making him wonder if you're enjoying this more than you should. "You’re being taken into custody for possession of illicit substances. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you." The patrol car door slams, the cold leather swallowing you. The scent of cologne mixes with the sterile air. All you feel is the pressure of the cuffs and dread coiling in your gut. That bag wasn’t yours. But who put it there? A clubgoer? Or him? The engine roars to life, driving you away from freedom. [[Accuse the officer of planting it.]] [[Stay quiet.]]

You say nothing, making the officer clear his throat after a while. "You’re being taken into custody for possession of illicit substances. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you." The patrol car door slams, the cold leather swallowing you. The scent of cologne mixes with the sterile air. All you feel is the pressure of the cuffs and dread coiling in your gut. That bag wasn’t yours. But who put it there? A clubgoer? Or him? The engine roars to life, tires screeching as the car moves. [[Accuse the officer of planting it.]] [[Stay quiet.]]

The car slows, but instead of a police station, it stops in front of a house—modest, dimly lit, shutters drawn like closed eyes. Your breath catches. This isn’t procedure. This isn’t normal. The officer kills the engine, the silence stretching thick between you. Your fingers twitch. Your mind races. [[Ask him where he's bringing you.]] [[Stay quiet.->stay quiet 2]]

You decide to pay with cash. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the shot glass back toward you with a small nod. You take the shot in your hand, feeling its weight for a moment before throwing it back. The burn hits you immediately—sharp, fiery, like it’s blazing a trail down your throat. The heat spreads quickly, settling deep into your chest, but after a second, the sharpness mellows out, leaving a smooth aftertaste with just a faint tang of agave. You exhale deeply, the buzz slowly creeping in, and a warm glow spreads through you. It’s not too much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. What do you do? [[Order more.->order more no dance]] [[Get something else.->get something else teq]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You decide to pay with your credit card. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the shot glass back toward you with a small nod. You take the shot in your hand, feeling its weight for a moment before throwing it back. The burn hits you immediately—sharp, fiery, like it’s blazing a trail down your throat. The heat spreads quickly, settling deep into your chest, but after a second, the sharpness mellows out, leaving a smooth aftertaste with just a faint tang of agave. You exhale deeply, the buzz slowly creeping in, and a warm glow spreads through you. It’s not too much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. What do you do? [[Order more.->order more no dance]] [[Get something else.->get something else teq]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You decide to pay with cash. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the bottle back toward you with a small nod. You take the cold bottle in your hand, condensation slick against your fingertips. You lift it to your lips before taking a long sip. The beer is smooth, crisp, with a slight bitterness that lingers on your tongue. It doesn't do much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. [[Order more.->order more no dance]] [[Get something else.->get something esle beer]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You decide to pay with cash. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the glass back toward you with a small nod. You take the drink in your hand, feeling its cool weight for a moment before tilting it back. The vodka is clean, crisp—smooth at first, but then the burn sneaks up on you, sharp and biting as it slides down your throat. It’s not fiery like tequila, not smoky or rich—just pure, almost icy, like a jolt of clarity wrapped in warmth. The heat lingers in your chest, but there’s no harsh aftertaste, just a clean, almost neutral smoothness that fades as quickly as it came. You exhale slowly, the buzz creeping in, steady and sure. It’s not too much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. What do you do? [[Order more.->order more no dance]] [[Get something else.->get something else vod]] [[Stop drinking.]]

You decide to pay with your credit card. After the transaction is complete, the bartender slides the glass back toward you with a small nod. You take the drink in your hand, feeling its cool weight for a moment before tilting it back. The vodka is clean, crisp—smooth at first, but then the burn sneaks up on you, sharp and biting as it slides down your throat. It’s not fiery like tequila, not smoky or rich—just pure, almost icy, like a jolt of clarity wrapped in warmth. The heat lingers in your chest, but there’s no harsh aftertaste, just a clean, almost neutral smoothness that fades as quickly as it came. You exhale slowly, the buzz creeping in, steady and sure. It’s not too much, but it’s enough to make the night feel like it’s just beginning. What do you do? [[Order more.->order more no dance]] [[Get something else.->get something else vod]] [[Stop drinking.]]

Do you... [[Call a cab to go back home.]] [[Drive back home.-Drive home, still drunk]]

You leave the bar, get in your car and start driving. You're focused on the road, when the red and blue lights flash behind you. Shit. You pull over, rolling the window down to meet the officer’s gaze. His <<if $hair is "bl">>sunlit-gold<<elseif $hair is "br">>earthy chestnut<<elseif $hair is "b">>midnight-dark<<endif>> hair flickers in the rotating lights, and his <<if $eyes is "br">>deep umber<<elseif $eyes is "bl">>icy sapphire<<elseif $eyes is "g">>luminous emerald<<endif>> gaze studies you. "Evening. Any idea why I stopped you?" he asks. "Speeding?" you reply. He taps the car. "Nope. Let’s try again." He leans in, eyes narrowing. "I smell alcohol. You’re not fit to drive." "I haven’t been drinking," you protest. He pulls out a breathalyzer and holds it up. "Blow into this." You do, and it registers positive. "I’m sober," you say, confused. The officer smirks. "Step out of the vehicle. Nice and slow." You know the breathalyzer is rigged, but you can’t prove it. "Step out." [[Floor it. Perhaps you can outrun this.]] [[Do as he says and step out of the car.]] [[Use a legal argument.->Argue your way out of this—maybe you know a legal loophole.]]

"Where the fuck did you bring me?" You ask, angry. The officer smirks at your question, his lips curling as he steps out, then rounds the car to [[yank your door open]].

You say nothing. His expression remains strict, unwavering, as he exits the car and [[pulls your door open->yank your door open]].

The officer escorts you out of the car, his grip tight on your arm as you step onto the gravel. The moment hits you—you’ve gotten yourself into something much worse than legal trouble, something you can’t escape. Every instinct screams to fight back, but it’s clear you’re at his mercy. [[Slam your head into him, knocking him out.]] [[Do nothing and accept fate.]]

With all the strength you can muster, you slam your head back into the officer’s face, hearing the a horrible crunch of bone against bone as he crumples backward, unconscious. You quickly get the keys from his pocket. After a moment of struggle, your handcuffs fall on the ground. You slide into the officer's car and shove the key into the ignition. As soon as the car engine starts, you speed away. [[Call 911.]] [[Ditch the car somewhere, walk a bit, then call a cab.]]

His grip tightens, yanking you forward. The door creaks open—then you're shoved inside. You catch yourself against the wall, breath unsteady. Behind you, the door slams, the lock clicks. He's already watching. Still. Waiting. Then, a quiet breath, almost amused. "Guess why you're here." [[...->say nothing, scared]] [[I don't know.]] [[To kill me and sell my organs.]] [[...Sex?]]

You take a deep breath, rushing the words out. “I need help. I’ve just escaped from a police officer—he... he’s not who he seems. He was going to... I think he meant to hurt me.” The 911 operator’s voice is calm but insistent. “Can you describe the officer? Anything unusual about him?” You wince, trying to recall the details as you glance at the road, your voice shaking. You describe the cop to the best of your abilities. "He was wearing a uniform, looked like a regular cop, but he—he wasn’t acting like one. He put me in the car, drove me somewhere... it wasn’t a police station, it was a house. I don’t know what he was planning, but I don’t think it was good.” “Stay calm,” the operator instructs. “We’ll send someone to investigate. Can you give us a location?” After you provide the details, you stay on the line, barely able to breathe, until sirens finally wail in the distance. The police arrive soon after, asking you to recount what happened as they begin investigating the officer’s car. They later confirm that the officer had been bringing men to his house under the pretense of an arrest, only to have sex with them before letting them go. If they want... of course. News outlets quickly pick up the story, showing his face everywhere. He’s a cop, but he’s not the man he’s supposed to be. But one question still gnaws at you—what exactly was he going to do to you in that house? Ending Twelve [[Start over?]]

You ditch the car, heart racing, and walk for a while, trying to shake off the adrenaline. After some time, you pull out your phone and call a cab, relief flooding over you as it arrives. The ride home is quiet, the weight of everything still pressing on your chest. When you get inside, you hear nothing more about the officer. It’s as if he’s vanished. Ending Thirteen [[Start over?]]

"Come on… you must have some idea. And just so we're clear—I don’t take kindly to silence when I ask a question." [[Keep on being quiet.]] [[I don't know.->i dont know 2]] [[To kill me and sell my organs.->to kill me and sell my organs 2]] [[...Sex?->sex 2]]

"I don't know." You shrug. Although, truthfully, you have some ideas—some better than others. You can only hope it's not the worst of them. The feminine officer steps closer, his expression unreadable. "Hm..." He tilts his head. "Well... I can give you a few ideas, if you want." [[Sure...]] [[No thank you.]]

"To kill me and sell my organs?" you say, fear edging your voice. You’re scared for your life, even if you could still overpower him if it came to something physical. You could slam your head against his, but he has a gun. He is an officer—at least, he looks like one. "Haha, that's funny. But no." You don’t understand what's funny about your fear for your life. "I was thinking about... other uses for your body. Ones that don’t involve killing you, but maybe, yes, screaming... if you want to." [[Ask him what other uses he's talking about.]] [[Ask him if he's talking about sex.]] [[Tell him you don't want whatever he has in mind.]]

"S-Sex?" you stammer, hoping that’s all he wants—and not something far worse. He chuckles, clearly amused. "Aren’t you quick…" He steps closer. "But don’t worry," he murmurs, "I won’t do anything you don’t want me to." [[Tell him you want to go home.]] [[Stay where you are.]]

"Hm... oh, now you're asking to be punished," he says, stepping closer. "I'm going to punish you for being bad. It’s only fitting, given that you're refusing to answer questions to an officer." His face is now inches from yours, and you can feel his breath on your skin. "Let me spell it out for you," he continues, his voice low and commanding. "We're going to have sex. Very hard, rough, gay sex. Unless..." He sighs. "Unless you don't want to. But I really hope you do, because you're such a catch—no pun intended—and I'd love to see how I can make you sound in bed." [[Sex!?]] [[Tell him you figured.]] [[Ask him if this actually works on others.]] [[Tell him you want to go home. -> tell him you wanna go home 2]]

"I don't know." You reply, intimidated by his words. Although, truthfully, you have some ideas—some better than others. You can only hope it's not the worst of them. The feminine officer steps closer, his expression unreadable. "Hm..." He tilts his head. "Well... I can give you a few ideas, if you want." [[Sure...]] [[No thank you.]]

"I... I don't know... To kill me and sell my organs?" you say, fear edging your voice. You’re scared for your life, even if you could still overpower him if it came to something physical. You could slam your head against his, but he has a gun. He is an officer—at least, he looks like one. "Haha, that's funny. But no." You don’t understand what's funny about your fear for your life. "I was thinking about... other uses for your body. Ones that don’t involve killing you, but maybe, yes, screaming... if you want to." [[Ask him what other uses he's talking about.]] [[Ask him if he's talking about sex.]] [[Tell him you don't want whatever he has in mind.]]

"S-Sex?" you stammer, hoping that’s all he wants—and not something far worse. He chuckles, enjoying seeing you intimidated. "Aren’t you quick…" He steps closer. "But don’t worry," he murmurs, "I won’t do anything you don’t want me to." [[Tell him you want to go home.]] [[Stay where you are.]]

You stay where you are, the fear for your life slowly being replaced by a growing sense of lust. It’s hard to process what’s happening—the fact that this is actually happening to you, right here, right now. [[You’re genuinely surprised.]] [[It was obvious.]]

"I wanna go home," you say quietly, hoping he'll keep his word. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Thirteen [[Start over?]]

Sex?!" The question escapes your lips before you can stop it. [[You’re genuinely surprised.]] [[It was obvious.]]

"Yeah, I figured," you say casually. "Mhm... did you now? Fuck..." He hesitates, lost in thought. [[Ask him what's the matter.]] [[Don't say anything.]]

"Does this actually work on other guys?" you ask, almost mocking him—like he's making a fool out of himself in front of countless others. Arresting them (sometimes for a false reason), then bringing them to his home just to ask if they want to fuck. I mean... in what world would that actually work? "Oh, you have no fucking idea..." he smirks. "But the real question right now is... is my 'different' way of offering sex gonna work on you?" His voice drips with lust and corruption. [[Yes.]] [[No.]]

"I would much rather go back home...," you reply, not wanting to do anything with this man anymore. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Nineteen [[Start over?]]

"What other uses are you talking about?" you ask, relieved that he doesn’t seem intent on killing you. "Well…" He pauses, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. "Something a little more… erotic. You know, instead of murder. Like…" His voice drops lower, deliberate. "Hot, rough, gay sex. That do anything for you?" Heat rushes to your face. No one has ever been this blunt in front of you before. [[I wouldn’t mind that…]] [[Are you actually serious?]] [[Yeah, no. That’s not happening.]]

"Are you talking about sex?" You ask, hoping that sex is really the only thing his twisted little mind wants. He chuckles, clearly amused. "Aren’t you quick…" He steps closer. "But don’t worry," he murmurs, "I won’t do anything you don’t want me to." [[Tell him you want to go home.]] [[Stay where you are.]]

"I don't want to take part in whatever sick plans you have. I wanna go home," you say quietly, hoping he'll keep his word. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Fourteen [[Start over?]]

"Sure..." you say quietly, hoping you won't regret your words in a few seconds. He steps closer, his face just inches from yours, and you can feel his breath on your skin. It smells like fresh glazed donuts—how stereotypical of a policeman. The only thing stereotypical about him is that damn donut smell. He bites his bottom lip, his gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. "Something like..." He trails his finger from your chest down to your waist, stopping just below your bulge. Then, with a swift motion, his hand moves back, grabbing your ass, making your eyes widen in surprise. "This." If it weren't for his authoritative job, this guy would definitely not be the typical one when it comes to... taking charge that way. But that can be arranged, can it? "So... what do you say..." [[Show me more.]] [[How about you uncuff me so I can show you something else.]] [[I'd rather not.]]

"No thank you. I'd rather go home," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Fifteen [[Start over?]]

"Show me more..." you say. He smirks, finally revealing the amount of lust that had been hiding behind his eyes this whole time—lust for no one but you. "Are you sure...?" he teases. "You might regret saying that, because I can be... quite a lot for some guys. And you don’t exactly strike me as the type who could handle me." [[Get offended by his implication.]] [[Keep going.]] [[On second thought...]]

"How about you uncuff me so I can show you something else?" He gets excited, but there's a glint of suspicion in his eyes. "Oh? Something else like… what?" He tilts his head. "How do I know I’m gonna like whatever it is you’re planning to show me? You could, I dunno… run. Or try to beat the shit out of me." He chuckles, tapping the holster at his hip. "Not that you could. Need I remind you, I still have a gun." His smirk sharpens. "But yeah… how do I know I can trust you, sugar?" [[You don’t.]] [[Then don’t take them off.]] [[Tell him you want to cuff him instead.]]

"I'd rather you didn't," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have any further. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Sixteen [[Start over?]]

"Oh you really think I can’t handle one fem police officer?" You smirk, tilting your head. "I can do more than you can imagine, boy." He raises an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "That so? Well, if you're as... capable as you claim, how about you prove it?" [[Sure thing.]] [[No. No, thank you.]]

"On second thought... maybe you're right,," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have any further. You have no idea who this guy is and what he would do to you if you let him start. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Seventeen [[Start over?]]

"What are you saying? That I can’t handle sex with one fem police officer? Even if he has a very strange way of asking someone to get laid…?" You scoff, crossing your arms. "I can do more than you can imagine, boy." He raises an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Woah, hit a nerve there, didn’t I? Well, if you’re as… capable as you claim, how about you prove it?" [[Sure thing.]] [[No. No, thank you.]]

You're genuinely surprised. You already know that he's not the only person trying to use his power to get someone into bed with them, but you never knew something like this would happen to you. At least he asked if you wanted it first... after everything he did to get you here, to his home, just to ask if you'd be into that. //What the fuck is going through that guy's head?// you can’t help but wonder. [[You’d love to have sex with him either way.]] [[Ask him if this actually works.]] [[You’d rather get out of here.]]

It was obvious. He's not the only person trying to use his power to get someone into bed with them. At least he asked if you wanted it first... after everything he did to get you here, to his home, just to ask if you'd be into that. //What the fuck is going through that guy's head?// you can’t help but wonder. [[You’d love to have sex with him either way.]] [[Ask him if this actually works.]] [[You’d rather get out of here.]]

"Does this actually work on other guys too?" "Oh, you would be surprised." He smirks, closing the distance between you. "You’re not the first guy I’ve tried this on." His breath ghosts over your lips before his tongue flicks out, teasing them. "So… what do you say?" [[Fuck yeah.]] [[Fuck no.]]

"I'd love to have sex with you, officer," you whisper, your cock already hardening at the thought of it. Without warning, he slams his palm against your chest, sending you stumbling backward. Your spine hits the hard surface behind you with a jolt, knocking the air from your lungs. Before you can steady yourself, his lips crash against yours. His teeth graze your lower lip, teasing, demanding. And before you even have a chance to resist—before the thought even crosses your mind—you moan, surrendering to him. His tongue forces its way past your lips, claiming every inch of your mouth with a raw, insatiable hunger. His body presses into yours, pinning you in place, his arousal grinding against you, sending your mind spinning. [[Kiss him back.]]

"I'd much rather get the fuck out of here," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have any further. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Eighteen [[Start over?]]

"Yes." You reply, your voice betraying a mixture of confidence and uncertainty, as if you’re daring yourself to follow through. "Are you sure...?" He teases, his grin widening. "You might regret that. I can be... quite a handful for some. And you don’t exactly strike me as the type who could handle me." [[Get offended by his implication.]] [[Keep going.]] [[On second thought...]]

"Fuck no. I want to get out of here," you say, feeling a sense of satisfaction as his smirk fades away. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty [[Start over?]]

"You're... different," he murmurs, lost in thought, struggling to find the right words in the heavy silence. [[Different in a bad way?]] [[Different in a good way?]]

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" you tease, a smirk playing on your lips. "Yeah, actually." He doesn’t even flinch at your mocking tone. "You’re... different." [[Different in a bad way?]] [[Different in a good way?]]

"Different in a bad way?" you ask, tilting your head slightly. "No. Quite the opposite, actually…" He exhales, shaking his head as if trying to make sense of it. "No one’s ever left me at a loss for words like this before. Most guys either freak out when I mess with them or just get weirded out—or both. But you? You actually shut me up. Congrats. Not many people can do that." [[Step closer to him.]] [[Tell him you’re not like other guys.]] [[Smirk and say maybe you’ll be different in bed too.]]

"Different in a good way?" you ask, tilting your head slightly. "Yes. In a good way indeed…" He exhales, shaking his head as if trying to make sense of it. "No one’s ever left me at a loss for words like this before. Most guys either freak out when I mess with them or just get weirded out—or both. But you? You actually shut me up. Congrats. Not many people can do that." [[Step closer to him.]] [[Tell him you’re not like other guys.]] [[Smirk and say maybe you’ll be different in bed too.]]

You step closer to him, catching him somewhat by surprise. "...You're not like other guys, are you?" He says. "You strike me as... freakier. Way freakier than most guys I've been with. Something tells me you won’t disappoint." [[I won’t disappoint.]] [[Oh, I’m definitely going to disappoint.]]

"Well, I'm not like other guys," you say with a smirk. "That's literally what I just said, sugar." He chuckles, eyeing you with amusement. "You strike me as... freakier. Way freakier than most guys I've been with. Something tells me you won’t disappoint." [[I won’t disappoint.]] [[Oh, I’m definitely going to disappoint.]]

You step closer to him, catching him somewhat by surprise. "Maybe I'll be different in bed too..." "...You're not like other guys, are you?" He says as he moves his hand toward his pants, adjusting his bulge. "You strike me as... freakier. Way freakier than most guys I've been with. Something tells me you won’t disappoint." [[I won’t disappoint.]] [[Oh, I’m definitely going to disappoint.]]

"Oh, I’m definitely going to blow your mind." "Heh, what makes you so sure?" He raises a brow, clearly intrigued. [[I’m very experienced.]] [[Because I’m into things that’ll make your head spin.]] [[You're going to like the size of my dick.]]

"Oh, I’m definitely going to disappoint." "Heh, what makes you say that?" He raises a brow, clearly intrigued. [[I’m not experienced.]] [[I just don’t feel confident.]] [[Because we’re not having sex.]] [[Because I’m not into the freaky stuff you think I am.]] [[My dick is going to be too big for you to handle.]] [[I have a small dick.]] [[My dick is just… average.]]

"I have a small dick," you reply. "Oh, really...? I'll be the judge of that,," he says as his hand presses against your bulge, rubbing slowly over the fabric. You feel yourself hardening under his touch with each movement. [[Go ahead.->go ahead small d]] [[Kiss him.->kiss him scared]]

"My dick’s gonna be too big for you to handle," you say with a smug smirk. "Oh, fuck... now I really wanna see it," he says as his hand presses against your bulge, rubbing slowly over the fabric. You feel yourself hardening under his touch with each movement. [[Go ahead.]] [[Kiss him.->kiss him scared]]

"I'm not that experienced." His eyes widen slightly in surprise. "Huh… hard to believe, given how you look. I mean, not only did I risk my career for you, but also my reputation—and possibly prison. Feels kinda crazy to think people wouldn’t be lining up to fuck you. But still…" He leans in slightly, studying you. "Are you sure you're telling the truth? And if so… why?" [[Yeah, I am.]] [[No, I’m not.]]

"I'm just not that confident." "Not confident in your sex skills?" His eyes widen slightly, a look of genuine surprise. "Huh… hard to believe, given how you look. I mean, not only did I risk my career for you, but also my reputation—and possibly prison. Feels kinda crazy to think people wouldn’t be lining up to fuck you. But still..." He leans in, studying you closely. "Are you sure you’re telling the truth? And if so... why?" [[Yeah, I am.->yeah i am not confident]] [[No, I’m not.]]

"Because we're not having sex." His confidence cracks. "Wha… but I thought—I thought you…" He swallows hard, eyes flicking to the floor. For the first time today, you see it—regret. Shame. Guilt. His voice drops. "Fuck… I’m sorry. But with all the teasing…" Your jaw tightens. "What? I never said you could kiss me." He flinches. His fists clench at his sides, but his shoulders sag. "Just… just go. Get out of my house." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-Five [[Start over?]]`

"I’m not into the freaky stuff you think I am," you say with a scoff. "Oh? That’s fine. I don’t mind keeping it simple... if that’s what you want." His eyes flick down to your bulge, interest clear in his expression. [[I do.->I am.]] [[I don't. I'd rather not do anything with you.->I am not.]]

"My dick is just... average," you reply. "Oh, really...? Now I really wanna see it," he says as his hand presses against your bulge, rubbing slowly over the fabric. You feel yourself hardening under his touch with each movement. [[Go ahead.|go ahead aver d]] [[Kiss him.->kiss him scared]]

"Yeah, I'm telling the truth." He bites his bottom lip, eyes flicking over you with curiosity. "And… just how inexperienced are we talking?" [[I’ve had fun once.]] [[I’ve had fun twice.]] [[I’ve had fun a few times.]] [[I’m a virgin.]]

"Bad boy. Now how about you show me just how experienced you really are?" he says, his hand sliding over your bulge, rubbing it slowly. Your breath catches as you grow harder under his touch. [[Just nod.]]

"I’ve had fun once." He raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Lucky girl. Or guy?" [[It was a girl.]] [[It was a guy.]]

"I’ve had fun once." He raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Lucky girl. Or guy? Or... was it both?" [[It was a girl.]] [[It was a guy.]] [[Both.]]

"I’ve had fun a few times." He raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Then you are experienced enough for me, Lucky girls. Or guys? Or... was it both?" [[It was girls.]] [[It was guys.]] [[Both.]]

"I'm a virgin," you admit. He hums, tilting his head slightly. "Hm… well, I don’t mind. You’re not that old. Plenty of people your age are still virgins." [[Yeah, you’re right.]] [[Honestly, I feel like I should’ve lost it by now.]] [[Maybe now’s the perfect time to change that.]] [[It’s too late for me anyway.]]

"Yeah, you're right." "Mhm... so tell me, how would you feel about trying it with a guy...?" [[I'm excited.]] [[I'm nervous.]] [[I'm scared.]]

"Honestly, I feel like I should've lost it by now." "Mhm... well, here's your chance to lose it to a guy." He says as he bites his bottom lip. [[I'm excited.]] [[I'm nervous.]] [[I'm scared.]]

"Maybe now's the perfect time to change that." You reply. "Mhm... I know right... And how does that make you feel?" He asks as he bites his bottom lip. [[I'm excited.]] [[I'm nervous.]] [[I'm scared.]]

"It's too late for me anyway," you reply with a shrug. He chuckles softly, a sweet sound that’s far from corrupt or filthy—more innocent, almost curious. "Haha, what the hell do you mean by that?" [[No one wants to have sex with a virgin at my age.]] [[If I haven’t lost it by now, I’ll probably be a disappointment in bed—and I don’t want that.]] [[I honestly don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.]]

"No one wants to have sex with a virgin at my age." You reply sadly. "Oh... is that so," he says as he places his hand on your bulge, feeling you harden at his touch. "Well, there is one that wants to. How... how does that make you feel, handsome?" He asks as he bites his bottom lip. [[I'm excited.->ext vir]] [[I'm nervous.->nerv vir]] [[I'm scared.->scar vir]]

"If I haven’t lost it by now, I’ll probably be a disappointment in bed—and I don’t want that..." You reply sadly. "Oh, about that... I'll be the judge of that," he says as he places his hand on your bulge, feeling you harden at his touch. "How... how does that make you feel, handsome?" He asks as he bites his bottom lip. [[I'm excited.->ext vir]] [[I'm nervous.->nerv vir]] [[I'm scared.->scar vir]]

"I honestly don’t even know what I’m saying anymore." You reply sadly. "Oh, okay then we can just... not say anything," he says as he places his hand on your bulge, feeling you harden at his touch. "How... how does that idea make you feel, handsome?" He asks as he bites his bottom lip. [[I'm excited.->ext vir]] [[I'm nervous.->nerv vir]] [[I'm scared.->scar vir]]

"I wouldn't mind that," you reply, heat pooling low in your body. "Of course you wouldn’t..." He smirks, stepping closer until there's barely an inch between you. "You know, you're not the first guy I've tried this on." His breath ghosts over your lips before his tongue flicks out, barely grazing them. "But still... are you really sure you wouldn't mind... you know, having some fun?" [[Fuck yeah.]] [[Fuck no.]]

"Yeah, no. That's not happening." You reply sternly. "I wanna go home," you continue. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-Six [[Start over?]]

"Sure thing," you reply, your voice steady, though your heart races as you consider your next move. [[You step closer and kiss him, letting the moment take over.]] [[You hesitate, standing still, unsure, and do nothing.]]

"No. No, thank you. I'd much rather get the fuck out of here," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have any further. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-One [[Start over?]]

"Well… do you like being handcuffed?" He lets out a short laugh. "Ha. I’m the one who does that, sugar…" His voice is cocky, but there’s something different this time. Quieter. The usual bratty edge is still there, but his smirk doesn’t quite reach his eyes. And that hesitation? Yeah, he doesn't dislike the idea as he wants you to think. [[Come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it at least once.]] [[I’ll fuck you extra hard if you let me handcuff you.]] [[Fine then. Don’t uncuff me.]]

“Well, you don’t,” you say simply. He hums, tilting his head in thought. A slow pause, a flicker of calculation in his eyes. “In that case, why should I do what you suggested?” [[Because you’ll like it.]] [[How do you feel about being handcuffed?]]

"Don't take them off then," you reply, knowing you're out of arguments. Or maybe... you want things to be this way. "Right... Well, I've just had enough of this slow burn bullshit," He slams his palm against your chest, forcing you sideways. Your spine collides with the hard surface behind you, the only thing keeping you upright after the unexpected impact. He caught you off guard. His teeth scrape against your lower lip, and before you can react—before resistance even crosses your mind—you moan submissively. His tongue invades your mouth and claims every inch with hunger you hadn't seen in someone before. His body pins you in place, and you feel his boner grinding into you. [[Kiss him back.]] [[Push him away.]]

"Come on. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it at least once," you murmur, stepping closer, heat pooling low in your stomach. The air between you grows heavier, every passing second making your breath shallower, your pants tighter. He chuckles, low and taunting. "Oh, yeah? And then what? You gonna fuck me?" His gaze flickers with amusement and challenge. "What makes you so sure I’d rather have you fuck me… instead of the other way around, sugar?" [[You look like you’d like it.]] [[I can feel it in my bones.]] [[Then I’ll just ride you.]] [[Don’t remove them then.]]

"I'll fuck you extra hard if you let me handcuff you," you murmur, stepping closer, heat pooling low in your stomach. The air between you thickens, your pants tightening with each second spent near him. He lets out a low chuckle. "Oh, yeah? And what makes you so sure I’d rather have you fuck me… instead of the other way around, sugar?" [[You look like you’d like it.]] [[I can feel it in my bones.]] [[Then I’ll just ride you.]] [[Don’t remove them then.]]

"Then I'll just ride you," you tease, watching the way his lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk. "That so?" His voice drops, rich with amusement as he steps closer, the air between you charged. "You’ve got a filthy mouth, sugar?" Before you can respond, he shoves you, making your back hit the wall behind you. The impact leaves you momentarily stunned, but not from pain—more from the sheer dominance in the way he handles you. His teeth graze your lower lip, teasing, testing. And before you can react—before resistance even crosses your mind—you moan, the sound betraying you. His tongue claims your mouth, slow yet possessive, like he’s savoring every inch. His body presses into you, heat radiating through his clothes as his hardness grinds against you, making damn sure you feel it. [[Kiss him back.]] [[Push him away.]]

"Let's say... I can feel it in my bones," you reply in a neutral tone. "Well I'll prove your bones wrong then—" He slams his palm against your chest, forcing you sideways. Your spine collides with the hard surface behind you, the only thing keeping you upright after the unexpected impact. He caught you off guard. "I’ll show you who likes being fucked," he snarls before crushing his lips to yours. His teeth scrape against your lower lip, and before you can react—before resistance even crosses your mind—you moan submissively. His tongue invades your mouth and claims every inch with hunger you hadn't seen in someone before. His body pins you in place, and you feel his boner grinding into you. [[Kiss him back.]] [[Push him away.]]

"You look like the type of guy who’d like it," you mock, observing the way his brows knit together in irritation. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You know what, you little bitch—" He slams his palm against your chest, forcing you sideways. Your spine collides with the hard surface behind you, the only thing keeping you upright after the unexpected impact. He caught you off guard. "I’ll show you who likes being fucked," he snarls before crushing his lips to yours. His teeth scrape against your lower lip, and before you can react—before resistance even crosses your mind—you moan submissively. His tongue invades your mouth and claims every inch with hunger you hadn't seen in someone before. His body pins you in place, and you feel his boner grinding into you. [[Kiss him back.]] [[Push him away.]]

"Then I'll just ride you," you mock, observing the way his brows knit together in irritation. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You know what, you little bitch—" He slams his palm against your chest, forcing you sideways. Your spine collides with the hard surface behind you, the only thing keeping you upright after the unexpected impact. He caught you off guard. "I’ll show you who likes being fucked," he snarls before crushing his lips to yours. His teeth scrape against your lower lip, and before you can react—before resistance even crosses your mind—you moan submissively. His tongue invades your mouth and claims every inch with hunger you hadn't seen in someone before. His body pins you in place, and you feel his boner grinding into you. [[Kiss him back.]] [[Push him away.]]

You kiss him back, and then he bites your bottom lip, making you moan, and as you open your mouth a bit, he shoves his tongue inside again, dominating your mouth as it it's always been his territory to begin with. His tongue collides against yours, and your body can't help but move in sync with his. He moves his hands down your waist, making your whole body shiver. "Perhaps... fuck. Maybe we //should// get rid of the handcuffs, what do you say?" You're surprised by his sudden change of mind. [[Sure thing.->sure to remove handcuffs]] [[Nah... I like having them on.]] [[Only if you let me put them on you.]]

With all your strength, you shove your head forward, forcing him back a few steps. "What the fuck?!" You glare at him, chest heaving. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" His confidence cracks. "Wha… but I thought—I thought you…" He swallows hard, eyes flicking to the floor. For the first time today, you see it—regret. Shame. Guilt. His voice drops. "Fuck… I’m sorry. But with all the teasing…" Your jaw tightens. "What? I never said you could kiss me." He flinches. His fists clench at his sides, but his shoulders sag. "Just… just go. Get out of my house." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-Two [[Start over?]]

"Oh... okay... I like where this is going... but still, how do I know you're not lying? That I really will like it when I uncuff you? Are you going to cuff me instead?" [[Yes.->yes to cuffing him]] [[No.->no to cuffing him]]

"Mmm... now we're talking. Are you really going to go through with it?" [[Yes.->yes to cuffing him]] [[No.->no to cuffing him weird]]

"Yes..." You whisper seductively.

"No," you say. He chuckles, tilting his head. "Haha, then... what? If no one's getting cuffed—for all the dirty reasons—why would I like that?" [[Because I'd go the fuck home.]] [[I like it better when no one is handcuffed.]]

"Because I'd rather go the fuck home," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-Nine [[Start over?]]

"I like it better when no one is handcuffed." He pauses, eyes flicking to the side. "Hm... well, it has been a while since I’ve had some 'vanilla' sex..." He shifts his gaze back to you. "Sure. Turn around." You do, feeling the cool click of the handcuffs as he removes them and sets them on a nearby shelf. “Well... now what? Are we just going to stand here, or...?" [[Let him take control.]] [[Handcuff him.]] [[Attack him.]]

You let him take control. He steps closer, barely two inches away, and you can feel his breath on your lips before he closes the space between you. His lips taste sweet. [[Kiss him back.->Let the kiss deepen, no handcuffs.]] [[Do nothing.->Stand still, letting him kiss you.]] [[Push him away.->Push him back, breaking the kiss.]]

With all the strength you can muster, you slam your hand into the officer’s face, hearing the a horrible crunch of bone against bone as he crumples backward, unconscious. You quickly get the keys from his pocket. You get out of the house and slide into his car and shove the key into the ignition. As soon as the car engine starts, you speed away. [[Call 911.]] [[Ditch the car somewhere, walk a bit, then call a cab.]]

You twist him around with a swift shove, pinning him against the shelf before securing the cuffs around his wrists. He stiffens, eyes widening as he tests the restraints with a slight pull. “I thought you said no one’s getting handcuffed,” he drawls, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. You lean in, your lips brushing near his ear. “I lied,” you murmur, voice full of mischief. “Now... I’ve got you.” He exhales sharply, a low chuckle slipping past his lips. “Son of a bitch… So, what are you gonna do to me now?” You trail a finger down his back, grinning. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” [[Fuck him right here.]] [[Go to the bedroom.]]

You bring your hands to his chest and gently away from you. "No. I want to go home." His confidence cracks. "Wha… but I thought—I thought you…" He swallows hard, eyes flicking to the floor. For the first time today, you see it—regret. Shame. Guilt. His voice drops. "Fuck… I’m sorry. But with all the teasing…" Your jaw tightens. "What? I never said you could kiss me." He flinches. His fists clench at his sides, but his shoulders sag. "Just… just go. Get out of my house." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-Four [[Start over?]]

He kisses you once more, urging you to make you move. "Fuck... do you want me to stop." [[No.->no stop]] [[Yes.->yes stop]]

You kiss him back, and then he bites your bottom lip, making you moan, and as you open your mouth a bit, he shoves his tongue inside as he pushes you sideways against the wall, dominating your mouth as it it's always been his territory to begin with. His tongue collides against yours, and your body can't help but move in sync with his. He moves his hands down your waist, making your whole body shiver. [[Place your hands on his waist.]] [[Place your hands on his ass.]]

"No..." you reply, your voice tinged with desperation, eager to see what else his twisted mind will make him do. "Mhm... then why won’t you kiss me back? You’re just standing there like a helpless puppy." [[I don’t know.]] [[I want you to take control.]]

"Yes." You reply coldly after all the teasing. His confidence cracks. "Wha… but I thought—I thought you…" He swallows hard, eyes flicking to the floor. For the first time today, you see it—regret. Shame. Guilt. His voice drops. "Fuck… I’m sorry. But with all the teasing…" Your jaw tightens. "What? I never said you could kiss me." He flinches. His fists clench at his sides, but his shoulders sag. "Just… just go. Get out of my house." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-Three [[Start over?]]

"I want you to take control..." You reply seductively. "Oh, is that so...?" He smashes his lips against yours again, and then bites your bottom lip, making you moan, and as you open your mouth a bit, he shoves his tongue inside as he pushes you sideways against the wall, dominating your mouth as it it's always been his territory to begin with. His tongue collides against yours, and your body can't help but move in sync with his. He moves his hands down your waist, making your whole body shiver. [[Place your hands on his waist.]] [[Place your hands on his ass.]]

"I don't know..." You reply seductively. "Oh, is that so...?" He smashes his lips against yours again, and then bites your bottom lip, making you moan, and as you open your mouth a bit, he shoves his tongue inside as he pushes you sideways against the wall, dominating your mouth as it it's always been his territory to begin with. His tongue collides against yours, and your body can't help but move in sync with his. He moves his hands down your waist, making your whole body shiver. [[Place your hands on his waist.]] [[Place your hands on his ass.]]

You move your hands down to his tiny, feminine waist, unable to stop yourself from imagining what lies beneath that officer's uniform. Your mouth waters as you think of his hard dick pressing against it, the things you want to do to him... or the things you want him to do to you, as fucked up as all of this is. He pulls you into a kiss, guiding you down the hallway. With his leg, he kicks open a brown door—his bedroom. The room is dimly lit, with sleek, minimalistic furniture and a few personal touches—a small bed with soft, dark sheets, and a desk cluttered with police paperwork and a couple of action figures. [[Tell him he has a nice room.]] [[Just keep kissing.]]

You move your hand down his waist to his ass, grabbing it firmly. It feels amazing in your grip, and he moans in pleasure as you do. You can’t help but wonder how it’ll feel in your hands without his clothes. You squeeze harder, and his moan deepens in your mouth as you continue to kiss him. "Bad boy... no one said you could touch there..." he whispers against your lips, pulling back slightly. "What... you don't like it?" you ask, already knowing the answer. "Hm, keep squeezing my ass and you’ll find out," he responds, before pulling you back into another heated kiss. He guides you down the hallway, using his leg to kick open a brown door—his bedroom. The room is dimly lit, with sleek, minimalistic furniture and a few personal touches: a small bed with soft, dark sheets, and a desk cluttered with police paperwork and a couple of action figures. [[Tell him he has a nice room.->tell him he as a nice room top]] [[Just keep kissing.->just keep kissing top]]

You pull back, gasping for breath. "Nice room," you manage to say, trying to catch your breath after the beast in front of you sucked all the air out of your lungs. He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he goes right back to kissing you, humming softly against your lips—whether in agreement, thanks, or something else entirely. The way his lips feel is a much better form of appreciation than words ever could be. With a swift motion, he turns you around, guiding you toward the bed. He pushes you down, making you fall onto the soft mattress. "Fuck..." he breathes, and you glance down to see his bulge pressing against his pants—hard. You’re no different. The pressure in your own pants is unbearable. You can’t wait to take them off, needing the release. [[Still let him have control.]] [[Turn the tables around.]]

You love the way his lips feel on yours to speak right now. With a swift motion, he turns you around, guiding you toward the bed. He pushes you down, making you fall onto the soft mattress. "Fuck..." he breathes, and you glance down to see his bulge pressing against his pants—hard. You’re no different. The pressure in your own pants is unbearable. You can’t wait to take them off, needing the release. [[Still let him have control.]] [[Turn the tables around.]]

You give him control. His hands go straight for your pants—unbuttoning, then tugging down the zipper in one swift motion. He slides them off effortlessly, revealing your aching cock. He wraps his hand around it, eyes locking with yours as he strokes you slowly. “Fuck... the things I’m about to do to you...” There’s a fire in his gaze—wild, consuming—like he’s about to devour every inch of you. [[Ask him what he’s going to do to you.|END OF DEMO]] [[Let him show you exactly what he has in mind.|END OF DEMO]]

You decide to turn the tables. With one swift, assertive movement, you grip his hips and shift your weight. He lets out a surprised grunt as you roll him beneath you, pinning him to the bed. His back hits the mattress with a soft thud, and his arms instinctively rise to grip your shoulders—but you’re already straddling him, in full control. Your hands press down on his chest, holding him in place as you lean in close, your breath ghosting over his lips. "Hm… what now?" he murmurs, his voice low, teasing. "What are you gonna do to me now that… you’ve got me pinned down like this?" You smirk, your fingers already moving with purpose. You reach for the button of his jeans, slowly popping it open with a practiced flick. The zipper follows, teeth parting with a soft hiss as your hand slides down, tugging at the waistband. He lifts his hips to help, and you drag his jeans down his thighs, watching the way his cock strains against the fabric of his underwear. Then, with deliberate slowness, you hook your fingers under the waistband of his briefs and pull them down too—inch by inch—revealing him completely. His cock springs free, flushed and already leaking, and you can’t help but pause to take in the view. The sight of him exposed beneath you, helpless and hungry, sends a spark straight through you. You toss the clothes aside, palms gliding over his bare thighs, nails dragging lightly against his skin as you shift your weight just enough to tease him with your touch. [[Suck his dick.|END OF DEMO]] [[Finger him.|END OF DEMO]] [[Suck his dick while you finger him.|END OF DEMO]] [[Eat him out.|END OF DEMO]] [[Fuck him.|END OF DEMO]] [[Fuck his mouth.|END OF DEMO]]

You pull back, gasping for breath. "Nice room," you manage to say, still trying to catch your breath after the beast in front of you stole all the air from your lungs. He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he dives right back into kissing you, humming softly against your lips—whether in agreement, thanks, or something else entirely. His lips feel like a much better form of appreciation than words ever could. With a swift motion, you turn him around, guiding him toward the bed. You push him down, making him fall back onto the soft mattress. “Fuck...” he breathes, and you glance down to see his bulge pressing against his pants—hard. You’re no different. The pressure in your own pants is unbearable. You can’t wait to strip them off, needing the release. [[Keep being dominant.]] [[Let him turn the tables around.]]

You love the way his lips feel on yours to speak right now. With a swift motion, you turn him around, guiding him toward the bed. You push him down, making him fall back onto the soft mattress. "Fuck..." he breathes, and you glance down to see his bulge pressing against his pants—hard. You’re no different. The pressure in your own pants is unbearable. You can’t wait to take them off, needing the release. [[Keep being dominant.]] [[Let him turn the tables around.]]

You stay in control. In one fluid, assertive move, you grab his wrists and shift your weight, twisting your bodies with practiced ease. He lets out a surprised breath as you flip him onto his back, your thighs straddling his hips before he can react. His hands instinctively reach up, but you pin them down against the mattress, leaning in close until your lips are just a breath away from his. “Hm… what now?” he murmurs, eyes dark with heat. “What are you gonna do to me now that… you’ve got me pinned like this?” You smirk, letting his wrists go as your hands drift down his chest, dragging your nails lightly across his skin. Your fingers reach the waistband of his jeans, and with slow, deliberate movements, you unbutton them, the soft click of the button snapping free sending a jolt of anticipation through both of you. The zipper follows, parting with a soft hiss. You tug at his jeans, and he lifts his hips obediently, letting you peel them down over his thighs. His underwear follows in one smooth pull, revealing his cock—hard, flushed, and already leaking. You toss the clothes aside, eyes lingering as you run your hands back up his legs, trailing over his inner thighs until you're just brushing where he needs you most. He shifts beneath you, breath catching, but you're not in any rush. You’re in charge—and he knows it. [[Suck his dick.|END OF DEMO]] [[Finger him.|END OF DEMO]] [[Suck his dick while you finger him.|END OF DEMO]] [[Eat him out.|END OF DEMO]] [[Fuck him.|END OF DEMO]] [[Fuck his mouth.|END OF DEMO]]

You let him turn the tables around. In one swift motion, you're suddenly beneath him, your body pressed into the cool sheets as he positions himself with undeniable authority. His hands grip your hips, pulling you into place as he hovers over you, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. There's no hesitation, just the thrilling shift of power, the way he manipulates you effortlessly, drawing out the moment with every second of control. His fingers find the waistband of your pants, tugging at the fabric with an almost impatient need. He undoes the button with a practiced flick, then pulls the zipper down in one fluid motion, the sound sharp and exciting in the silence. The material slides off your legs easily, exposing your aching cock to the air, every inch of you throbbing under his gaze. Without missing a beat, he wraps his hand around you, his grip firm, teasingly slow as his eyes lock with yours. There’s a flicker of something darker in his gaze, something possessive, and the way he strokes you with deliberate slowness sends a wave of heat coursing through your body. “Fuck... the things I’m about to do to you...” His voice is low, a mix of desire and control, and the heat in his eyes is wild—consuming—like he’s about to devour every inch of you, take you deeper into the moment than you ever thought possible. [[Ask him what he’s going to do to you.|END OF DEMO]] [[Let him show you exactly what he has in mind.|END OF DEMO]]

"Yeah, I’m telling the truth." He bites his bottom lip, his eyes scanning you with curiosity. "And… just how unconfident are we talking?" [[I’ve had fun once.]] [[I’ve had fun twice.]] [[I’ve had fun a few times.]] [[I’m a virgin.]]

"It was a girl." "Mhm... so tell me, how would you feel about trying it with a guy... just once?" [[I'm excited.]] [[I'm nervous.]] [[I'm scared.]]

"It was a girl." "Mhm... so tell me, how would you feel about trying it with a guy... again?" [[I'm excited.]] [[I'm nervous.]] [[I'm scared.]]

You step closer, feeling his breath mingle with yours before closing the distance, your lips colliding against his. He slams his palm against your chest, sending you reeling sideways. Your spine crashes into the hard surface behind you, the only thing keeping you upright after the sudden impact. He caught you off guard. His teeth graze your lower lip, and before you can react—before resistance even crosses your mind—you moan out, helplessly. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming every inch with a hunger you hadn’t expected from someone. His body pins you in place, and you can feel his erection grinding against you. [[Keep kissing.->Kiss him back.]]

He grins as his hand meets your chest, pushing you backwards until your back hits the surface behind you. The impact takes your breath away, but you don’t resist it. You don’t move. He crashes his lips to yours, kissing you with fiery passion. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip, testing, taunting, hurting a bit... And before you have a chance to respond, you moan. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming every inch with a hunger you hadn’t expected from someone. His body pins you in place, and you can feel his erection grinding against you. [[Keep kissing.|Kiss him back.]]

"Sure," you whisper, your breath brushing against his lips. WIth a swift motion he turns you around. You feel the cool click of the handcuffs as he removes them and sets them on a nearby shelf. “Well... now what? Are we just going to stand here, or...?" [[Let him take control.]] [[Handcuff him.]] [[Attack him.]]

"Nah... I like having them on." He thinks for a second before speaking. "You’re... different." [[Different in a bad way?]] [[Different in a good way?]]

He turns you around and removes the handcuffs from you. You twist him around with a swift shove, pinning him against the shelf before securing the cuffs around his wrists. He stiffens, eyes widening as he tests the restraints with a slight pull. “Now... I’ve got you,” You murmur, voice full of mischief. He exhales sharply, a low chuckle slipping past his lips. “Son of a bitch… So, what are you gonna do to me now?” You trail a finger down his back, grinning. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” [[Fuck him right here.|END OF DEMO]] [[Go to the bedroom.|END OF DEMO]]

"Don't remove them then," you mock, observing the way his brows knit together in irritation. "Don't tell me what to do! You know what, you little bitch—" He slams his palm against your chest, forcing you sideways. Your spine collides with the hard surface behind you, the only thing keeping you upright after the unexpected impact. He caught you off guard. His teeth scrape against your lower lip, and before you can react—before resistance even crosses your mind—you moan submissively. His tongue invades your mouth and claims every inch with hunger you hadn't seen in someone before. His body pins you in place, and you feel his boner grinding into you. [[Kiss him back.]] [[Push him away.]]

"No," you say. He chuckles, tilting his head. "Haha, then... why the fuck would you say...? If no one's getting cuffed—for all the dirty reasons—why would I like to to uncuff you?" [[Because I'd go the fuck home.]] [[I like it better when no one is handcuffed.]]

"It was with girls." "Mhm... so tell me, how would you feel about trying it with a guy... just once?" [[I'm excited.]] [[I'm nervous.]] [[I'm scared.]]

"It was with guys." "Mhm... alright. And how would you feel about trying it with the guy... arrested you not too long ago?" [[I'm excited.]] [[I'm nervous.]] [[I'm scared.]]

"Both." "Mhm... so tell me, how would you feel about trying it with a guy... again?" [[I'm excited.]] [[I'm nervous.]] [[I'm scared.]]

"I'm excited," you admit with a grin. "Yeah? And what if you end up liking it more with a guy than with a girl?" [[I don't know.->idk why im nervous to have sex with a guy]] [[That scares me.->I'm scared I'll like it too much.]]

"I'm nervous," you reply honestly. "Haha, why? You’re not exactly new to this. It wouldn’t be your first time getting a little wild with someone. And trust me, I don’t bite… well, not too hard." [[I don't know.->idk why im nervous to have sex with a guy]] [[I'm scared I'll like it too much.]]

"I'm scared," you reply honestly. "Haha, why? You’re not exactly new to this. It wouldn’t be your first time getting a little wild with someone. And trust me, I don’t bite… well, not too hard." [[I don't know.->idk why im nervous to have sex with a guy]] [[I'm scared I'll like it too much.]]

"I'm scared because I might like it too much..." you admit, your heart pounding at the thought of enjoying sex with a guy more than you expected. "Hm... fair enough." His hand slides over your bulge, a slow, deliberate touch. "But let’s worry about that later. What do you say?" [[Kiss him.->kiss him scared]] [[Just nod.]]

"I don't know..." you admit in a whisper. "Oh? Does this make you nervous?" His fingers trail over your bulge, his touch unhurried, teasing. "Let’s save those worries for later. What do you say?" [[Kiss him.->kiss him scared]] [[Just nod.]]

He pauses, eyes flicking to the side. "Hm... well, it has been a while since I’ve had some 'vanilla' sex..." He shifts his gaze back to you. "Sure. Turn around." You do, feeling the cool click of the handcuffs as he removes them and sets them on a nearby shelf. “Well... now what? Are we just going to stand here, or...?" [[Let him take control.]] [[Handcuff him.]] [[Attack him.]]

"I'd rather not do anything with you," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have any further. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-Seven [[Start over?]]

You just nod, your cock throbbing as his touch lingers. Without warning, he shoves his palm against your chest, sending you stumbling backward. Your spine collides with the hard surface behind you, the force knocking the breath from your lungs. Before you can steady yourself, his lips crash against yours. His teeth graze your lower lip, teasing, demanding. And before you can even think of resisting—before the thought even forms—you moan, surrendering to him. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming every inch with a raw, insatiable hunger. His body presses against yours, pinning you in place, his arousal grinding against you, making your head spin. [[Kiss him back.]]

You lunge forward, crashing your lips against his in a desperate kiss. He kisses you back just as eagerly—before, without warning, his palm slams against your chest. The sudden force sends you stumbling backward, your spine colliding with the hard surface behind you. The impact steals your breath, but before you can even process it, his lips are on yours again. His teeth graze your lower lip, teasing, demanding. And before resistance can even cross your mind—before the thought fully forms—you moan, yielding to him. His tongue pushes past your lips, exploring, claiming, devouring you with a raw, insatiable hunger. His body presses flush against yours, pinning you in place, his arousal grinding into you, making your head swim. He then bites your bottom lip, making you moan, and as you open your mouth a bit, he shoves his tongue inside again, dominating your mouth as it it's always been his territory to begin with. His tongue collides against yours, and your body can't help but move in sync with his. He moves his hands down your waist, making your whole body shiver. "Perhaps... fuck. Maybe we //should// get rid of the handcuffs, what do you say?" You're surprised by his sudden change of mind. [[Sure thing.->sure to remove handcuffs]] [[Nah... I like having them on.]] [[Only if you let me put them on you.]]

"Are you actually serious?" "Of course, I am." He smirks, closing the distance between you. "You’re not the first guy I’ve tried this on." His breath ghosts over your lips before his tongue flicks out, teasing them. "So… what do you say?" [[Fuck yeah.]] [[Fuck no.]]

"Fuck yeah," you whisper, your cock already hardening at the thought of it. Without warning, he slams his palm against your chest, sending you stumbling backward. Your spine hits the hard surface behind you with a jolt, knocking the air from your lungs. Before you can steady yourself, his lips crash against yours. His teeth graze your lower lip, teasing, demanding. And before you even have a chance to resist—before the thought even crosses your mind—you moan, surrendering to him. His tongue forces its way past your lips, claiming every inch of your mouth with a raw, insatiable hunger. His body presses into yours, pinning you in place, his arousal grinding against you, sending your mind spinning. [[Kiss him back.]]

"Fuck no. I'd rather go home," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Twenty-Eight [[Start over?]]

"I'm excited," you admit with a grin. "Yeah, exicted to lose your virginity? And what if you end up liking it more with a guy than with a girl?" [[I don't know.->idk why im nervous to have sex with a guy]] [[That scares me.->I'm scared I'll like it too much.]]

"I'm nervous," you reply honestly. "Haha, makes sense. It's going to be your first time... and it ends up being with a freaky boy like me." [[I'm scared I'll like it too much.]]

"I'm scared," you reply honestly. "Haha, makes sense. It's going to be your first time... and it ends up being with a freaky boy like me." [[I'm scared I'll like it too much.]]

"Go ahead," you say, your voice steady despite the anticipation thrumming through you. His fingers trail down to the button of your pants, undoing it with deliberate slowness before moving to the zipper. He drags it down, inch by inch, his gaze never wavering from yours. Once the fabric parts, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, tugging it down in one slow, teasing motion. Your cock springs free, hard and aching, and only then does he finally look down. "Fuck..." His breath hitches. "You're right. It is big." His eyes flick back up to yours as his fingers wrap around your length, and a sharp exhale escapes you—one you hadn’t even realized you were holding. [[Tell him to get on his knees.|END OF DEMO]] [[Lead him to the bedroom.|END OF DEMO]]

"I'm very experienced," you reply, your tone steady and sure. "And just how experienced are we talking about?" [[I've had sex more times than I can count.]] [[I've been with quite a few people.]]

"Because I'm into things that'll make your head spin," you reply confidently, watching the spark of desire ignite in his eyes as he imagines what you’ve just hinted at. "Mhm... I need proof." His voice drops, a challenge in his tone. [[Go ahead and see for yourself.|Go ahead head spin.]] [[On second thought...]]

"You're going to like the size of my dick," you reply confidently, watching the spark of desire ignite in his eyes as he imagines what you’ve just hinted at. "Mhm... I need proof." His voice drops, a challenge in his tone. [[Go ahead and see for yourself.|Go ahead.]] [[On second thought...]]

"I've had sex more times than I can count," you reply. "Okay. Was it just girls? Or... were there a few guys in there as well?" [[It was mostly girls.]] [[It was only girls.]] [[It was mostly guys.]] [[It was only guys.]]

"I've been with quite a few people," you reply. "Okay. Was it just girls? Or... were there a few guys in there as well?" [[It was mostly girls.]] [[It was only girls.]] [[It was mostly guys.]] [[It was only guys.]]

"It was only girls," you say. "But don't worry, I think I know how to make a guy feel good too." "Then prove it." [[Sure thing.]] [[I won’t, not to you.]]

"It was mostly girls," you say. "But don't worry, I know how to make a guy feel good too." "Then prove it." [[Sure thing.]] [[I won’t, not to you.]]

"It was mostly guys," you say. "So, I know how to make a guy feel good." "Then prove it." [[Sure thing.]] [[I won’t, not to you.]]

"It was only guys," you say. "So don't worry, I know how to make a guy feel good." "Then prove it." [[Sure thing.]] [[I won’t, not to you.]]

"I won't, not to you. I'd rather go home," you reply, not wishing to entertain whatever twisted fantasies he may have. He exhales sharply, looking down at the floor. "Alright." You’d almost feel bad for how disappointed he looks—if he weren’t a corrupt cop. As he steps toward you, you instinctively take a step back. "Relax," he says, unimpressed. "I'm just taking off your cuffs." You hesitate, then turn around. A moment later, the metal clicks open, and he retrieves the handcuffs. "I’ll call you a taxi," he says, pulling out his phone. His tone darkens. "But just so we're clear... not a word about this. I have connections. I’ll find you, no matter where you run." He makes the call, then gestures toward the door. "Get out." You don’t need to be told twice. The moment you're outside, you inhale the cold night air, trying to steady yourself. The taxi pulls up soon after, and you rattle off your address, barely processing the ride home. What the actual fuck was that? You got out. Somehow. No consequences, no further contact. You never saw or heard from the officer again. Ending Thirty [[Start over?]]

"Go ahead," you say, your voice steady despite the anticipation building inside you. His fingers move to the button of your pants, unfastening it slowly, then to the zipper, pulling it down with care, his gaze never leaving yours. Once the fabric’s out of the way, he slides his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down and revealing your hard cock. Only then does he glance down. "Shit..." He exhales, eyes widening. "It's not that small, trust me..." He looks back up at you, his hand wrapping around your length. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding escapes you. [[Tell him to get on his knees.|END OF DEMO]] [[Lead him to the bedroom.|END OF DEMO]]

"Go ahead," you say, your voice steady despite the anticipation building inside you. His fingers move to the button of your pants, unfastening it slowly, then to the zipper, pulling it down with care, his gaze never leaving yours. Once the fabric’s out of the way, he slides his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down and revealing your hard cock. Only then does he glance down. "Shit..." He exhales, eyes widening. "It's not average, trust me..." He looks back up at you, his hand wrapping around your length. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding escapes you. [[Tell him to get on his knees.|END OF DEMO]] [[Lead him to the bedroom.|END OF DEMO]]

"Get on your knees, officer," you command, and his eyes gleam with eager excitement. Without a moment's hesitation, he drops to his knees, his movements quick and precise. His hands work deftly, tugging your pants and underwear down in one smooth motion. The heat of his breath brushes over your dick, sending a jolt of anticipation through you, hardening you even more. He grips your cock with his fingers, the warmth of his touch making you twitch. Slowly, he begins to stroke, his gaze fixed on you as he watches it swell to its full length. "Fuck..." he mutters under his breath, his voice low and ragged with desire. [[Suck it.|END OF DEMO]] [[Just keep stroking it...|END OF DEMO]]

"Go ahead," you say, your voice steady despite the anticipation thrumming through you. His fingers trail down to the button of your pants, undoing it with deliberate slowness before moving to the zipper. He drags it down, inch by inch, his gaze never wavering from yours. Once the fabric parts, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, tugging it down in one slow, teasing motion. Your cock springs free, hard and aching, and only then does he finally look down. "Shit..." His breath catches. "You're actually... bigger than I thought." His eyes flick back up to yours as his fingers wrap around your length, and a sharp exhale escapes you—one you hadn’t even realized you were holding. [[Tell him to get on his knees.|END OF DEMO]] [[Lead him to the bedroom.|END OF DEMO]]

"I think I'm gonna fuck you right here..." "Mhm... Aren't you feeling dominant tonight..." You slide your hand lower, brushing past his handcuffed wrists and squeezing his ass with a firm grip. "Damn... I'm gonna fuck this tight ass..." He smirks, eyes dark with desire. "What? You like it, don't you...?" [[Yes.->yes i like ur ass]] [[No.->no i like ur ass]]

The demo ends here. [[Start over?]]

"Yes, I like it." "I'm pretty sure you're gonna like it even more once these clothes are off." You smirk as your hands move forward, deftly unbuttoning his work clothes before sliding them down, along with his black underwear. And there it is—his perfect bubble butt, now fully exposed and ready to be claimed. You squeeze it again, feeling the heat of your own desire building. "You were right..." you murmur, rubbing against the growing bulge in your pants. "Then what are you waiting for?" His voice is low, desperate, full of need. [[Finger him first.|END OF DEMO]] [[Eat him out first.|END OF DEMO]] [[Pull your pants down and fuck him.|END OF DEMO]]

"Nope." You tease. "I'm pretty sure you're gonna like it once these clothes are off." You smirk as your hands move forward, deftly unbuttoning his work clothes before sliding them down, along with his black underwear. And there it is—his perfect bubble butt, now fully exposed and ready to be claimed. You squeeze it again, feeling the heat of your own desire building. "You were right..." you murmur, rubbing against the growing bulge in your pants. "Then what are you waiting for?" His voice is low, desperate, full of need. [[Finger him first.|END OF DEMO]] [[Eat him out first.|END OF DEMO]] [[Pull your pants down and fuck him.|END OF DEMO]]

<h2>Report a Mistake</h2><form action="https://formspree.io/f/mzzevpzr" method="POST" onsubmit="return (function(){const email=document.getElementById('email').value;const emailRegex=/^[a-zA-Z0-9._-]+@[a-zA-Z0-9.-]+\.[a-zA-Z]{2,4}$/;if(!emailRegex.test(email)){alert('Please enter a valid email address format.');return false;}return true;})()"><label for="email">Your Email:</label><input type="email" id="email" name="email" required style="display:block; margin-bottom:10px;"><label style="display:block; margin-bottom:10px;"><input type="checkbox" id="noGameCheckbox" onchange="(function(){const checkbox=document.getElementById('noGameCheckbox');const emailField=document.getElementById('email');const gameRequestField=document.getElementById('gameRequest');if(checkbox.checked){emailField.value='noemail@noemail.com';emailField.readOnly=true;emailField.required=false;gameRequestField.value='N/A';gameRequestField.readOnly=true;gameRequestField.required=false;}else{emailField.value='';emailField.readOnly=false;emailField.required=true;gameRequestField.value='';gameRequestField.readOnly=false;gameRequestField.required=true;}})()"> I don't want a game</label><label for="gameTitle">Game Title:</label><input type="text" id="gameTitle" name="gameTitle" value="Corrupt Femboy Officer" readonly style="display:block; margin-bottom:10px;"><label for="gameRequest">What game do you want a copy of?</label><input type="text" id="gameRequest" name="gameRequest" required style="display:block; margin-bottom:10px;"><label for="mistake">Describe the Mistake:</label><textarea id="mistake" name="mistake" rows="4" required style="display:block; margin-bottom:10px;"></textarea><label for="location">Where did you find it?</label><textarea id="location" name="location" rows="1" required readonly style="display:block; margin-bottom:10px;">Mistake is in passage "<<print previous()>>"</textarea><p><strong>Warning:</strong> If you provide an incorrect email address, I will not be able to send you the game. If you make a mistake, feel free to contact me personally at <a href="mailto:octiwriter@gmail.com">octiwriter@gmail.com</a> for any corrections or inquiries.</p><p><strong>Privacy Policy:</strong> After the game update and key email is sent, your email will be deleted, and I will have no further access to it. Your email will not be used for marketing purposes or shared with third parties.</p><button type="submit">Submit</button></form> <<return "Go back.">>

[[Report a Bug|TargetPassage]]

The demo ends here. [[Start over?]]