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When she woke up, there was nothing rude to interrupt her. It was nice and calming for a few seconds, but soon grabbed her attention as something terribly wrong. She hadn't woken up without an alarm or some other noise in months.

Before she could worry about whether or not she was going to miss her morning chemistry class, a realistic concern considering she had to rely on the sketchy bus system, she opened her eyes. It seemed that she was in more trouble than just a simple case of forgetting to set her alarm.

Olivia's dizzy grogginess instantly vanished as she darted out of the bed, which happened to be the only thing in the room she recognized. The entire room was filled with a soft and morbid white all around, and while it was bigger than her tiny apartment back home, it had much less furniture. There was a full mirror over by one of the walls, a desk and chair on another, and a few wardrobes. There were two doors on either side of the room, each just about as blank and uninteresting as the other.

"... Hello?" Her cautious voice sounded out, leading to nothing more than a gentle echo in the empty room. She tried walking around the place to investigate, the cushiony floor of the carpet absorbing her feet with every step. At the very least, she could try to respect that her kidnappers had good taste in carpet. She didn't think about that for very long, though.

On the desk, she found a note and a simple black hair tie. While she leaned over to read the message, she tied her shoulder length auburn hair into a ponytail. It was still messy, but now it wouldn't be invading her face nearly as much.

The note was odd. At first glance the paper seemed like some sort of Valentine's Day card, but all of the words looked like they had been printed with some sort of arial-like font. The only words on it were, in big and bold letters, "MISSION: GET A LIFE!"

"Rude," she hummed to herself. Since no one had been saying anything to her, she started talking to herself again. It was nice to not have a roommate who was going to overhear her.

Continuing her quest, she looked over at the mirror. Nothing seemed off about the mirror itself, it was just a nice looking piece of furniture, but she did notice something odd about her clothes. She was wearing a green nightgown made from a soft and velvety material that she had gotten as a weird birthday gift from an ex-boyfriend. She still kept it, but she could have sworn that she was wearing something else last night. Why had she been put into one of her other clothes?

Shrugging it off for now, she went over to peer through the drawers. She almost immediately regretted this. In every drawer there was an assorted mess of some sort of sex related junk. Mostly there were just toys and lingerie. Curiously enough, there weren't any other forms of clothes available. She went through a few of the less risque lingerie sets just to see if there was anything important. They all had weird tags like "libido" and "memory loss," and... They were all two sizes too big for her basic C-cup self.

"I'm DEFINITELY not a DD. I guess it's good they don't fit me, don't want anyone thinking that they're mine." She wondered about the tags, but she didn't think it was worth it to search them too much. She closed the drawers with a frown.

Suddenly, a high pitched voice played across the room. "Actually, about that..." She guessed that there must have been hidden speakers, as she had no idea where the voice came from. "Miss Olivia, you're here for rehabilitation. You very well may end up fitting into those sooner or later..."

Olivia didn't say anything. She felt her throat instantly clenching with fear and anxiety, wondering what the hell they meant.

"You see, here's the thing, girl. We've been watching you, right?" The voice continued. "You're WAY too fucking boring! I mean, c'mon! You've had sex two times, and I still say that the first one didn't count. You're twenty two now, get a life! You haven't even gotten drunk yet!"

"... What?" Was all that she could muster. "How do you even-"

"We know. We know everything you humans do. Does it matter? No, no it doesn't. I'm not even supposed to do this, but I brought you here because you annoyed me so much."

"Huh-?"

"Okay, listen, I'm already annoyed talking to you. How about this? I'll just explain the rules. Does that sound good?"

She hesitantly nodded.

"Finally. Right, so your boring ass has been transported to here-ville. You can get out and stuff, I'm not gonna kill you or anything, but you have to make your way to the end first. That's gonna involve going through a lot of doors and a lot of challenges. If you win, you move on to the next room. If you lose? Then you can still move on since I'm so nice, but you'll also be permanently affected by the room. There's a chance you could get stuck here, or maybe sold off as an interdimensional slave cumslut, but you have a good chance of actually escaping! Good for you! The door on your left just leads to your bathroom, but the one on the right leads to a hallway with more doors. The game starts from there. Any questions?"

"Yes?"

"Too bad." The voice went silent.

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04.10.2022
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Pleasure Island Ponygirlsby Sarah Sarah and Emily couldn't believe their luck in getting the invitation to Pleasure Island. The two 18 year old teens had survived their first semester of college, with a D average, but it was enough to pass them into the spring semester. Now as the pivotal moment for all new college girls arrived, spring break, the girls had each received in the mail an invitation to what was rumored to be the best party spot for all of spring break. Of course they had...

Pleasure Unit

For as long as she could remember, Gina had wanted to be a PLUN and a level four Pleasure Unit at that, the pinnacle of sexual strength and wondrous joy, the golden and tireless vagina and luscious body. Nothing else would do. All her anatomically correct Barbies were PLUNs and all of them were put away with a virile Space Cadet or well-hung Fleet Warrior between their shapely legs, his gigantic purple-headed phallus jammed into their tight-lipped slot. Her favorite shows were all deep space...

Pleasures at Dressing Manor 2

2: Lyndon learns about little dresses Lyndon Blonding stepped nervously across the polished wooden floor of the pantyfrilling chamber, led by the hands of his stepmother on one side and his governess on the other. He was completely naked, except for the girly-suspender that his nurse had put him into: a one-inch-wide glossy pink waist belt, trimmed with white lace on its lower edge, with a narrow pink ribbon from each hip pulled tautly to the root of his penis, where the ribbon...

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