Choose Your Own Adventure
I will be writing a "Choose Your Own Adventure" style sexual misadventure.
Each chapter will have a poll for which option to choose.
Feel free to comment after each part, as the links will lead to new topics! I'd love to hear your feedback and I'm desperate for votes to help guide me towards which parts should be written next!
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You are a college student in a specialized international program focused on archaeology, anthropology, and cultural studies. Your skill with languages and high grades had earned you a place in this program along with other students from a variety of universities around the globe. This class deals in real world experiences. You don't have a dorm room; you have a bunk and footlocker on an ocean-going vessel, a tiny shared room in a youth hostel, barely enough space for your bedroll in a tent near an archaeological dig. You don't have a lab; you have actual dig sites. There is no lecture hall; lectures are delivered in mess halls, on ship decks, and out in the open desert. …
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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You're about to say something when he pulls you by the hair, half dragging you toward the throne. You scramble to keep up, feeling like he's about to rip your hair out by the roots, and a scream comes from your throat. You hate yourself for making the sound. He lifts you by the hair, pushing you forward. He forces you onto the throne on your knees, facing the back of the chair. You struggle to keep your balance as he moves and pulls you by the hair, your ass pressed out toward him, hands scrabbling on the arms of the chair, and when you finally get a moment to gain your balance, he wastes no time. Holding you by the hair from behind, his other hand spreads your…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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"I will not." You stare up at him, grim defiance on your face and venom in your words. You try to swing at him, but he catches your wrist in his hand. His eyes are filled with fury. The blow lands before you realize he swung. There is a ringing in your ears and you taste blood in your mouth. You are dizzy, barely able to hold yourself in the kneeling position, and not completely aware of what's happening as you hear the sound of fabric shredding. You body is tugged roughly, your position shifted about, and when you are released, you fall back onto your bare bottom on the cold, stone floor. You are naked sprawled on your backside on the floor of the castle. …
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You take a slow breath, forcing yourself to remain still. "You have my word as a noble," you say, your voice controlled, measured. "But if that isn’t enough for you, then search me. If you think I carry a dagger, take it from me yourself." The knight’s smirk widens, slow and knowing, as if he’d been waiting for you to say that. "Very well, Princess." He steps closer, and your breath catches as the space between you disappears. His gloved hand moves to your side, fingers pressing into your waist, skimming over the fabric of your gown as he feels for hidden blades. He is thorough, too thorough, taking his time as his hands slide over your ribs, down your…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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You nod slowly, reluctantly, but you nod. You wish you were stronger, wish you could resist him, but you know that this will end the same whether or not you fight. The only difference is that if you fight, you'll be beaten and bruised... you might even be killed. You can feign obedience for your survival, at least long enough until you can find a chance to strike. "You are in control," you say. "I am at your mercy." His grin grows even darker as you nod your acquiescence. "Good girl," he says, his hand still strong on your wrist. He tugs you closer and you take two quick steps toward him to keep your balance, your slippers sliding on the stone floor. His h…
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You nod slowly, reluctantly, but you nod your agreement. You wish you were stronger, wish you could resist him, but you know that this will end the same whether or not you fight. The only difference is that if you fight, you'll have more bruises, possibly cuts... you might even be killed. Your body is what he wants. You can give him that much for your survival, or least pretend to until you can find a way to escape. His grin grows even darker as you nod your acquiescence. "Good girl," he says, his fingers still curled in your hair. With his other hand, he strokes your cheek slowly, almost as if he were stroking a favored pet. "Good girl," he says again. Th…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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You nod slowly, reluctantly, but you nod your agreement. You wish you were stronger, wish you could resist him, but you know that this will end the same whether or not you fight. The only difference is that if you fight, you'll have more bruises, possibly cuts... you might even be killed. Your body is what he wants. You can give him that much for your survival. It's not like anyone will know. His grin grows even darker as you nod your acquiescence. "Good girl," he says, his fingers still curled in your hair. With his other hand, he strokes your cheek slowly, almost as if he were stroking a favored pet. "Good girl," he says again. This time you feel the sham…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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The knight’s boots thunder down the stairs behind you, but you don’t hesitate, you don’t think, you just move. You veer left, heart hammering, raises your arms up in front of your face, and launch yourself through the window. Glass shatters and explodes outward as you fly out into the day. There is a moment of panicked freefall as the cool outside air hits you and you see everything in a freeze-frame moment. Enemy guards in the courtyard below look upward at the sound, shards of glass reflect the sunlight all around you as blood wells in tiny lacerations all up and down your arms, your feet pedal at nothing below you, and then the moment is past. Your feet hit the sl…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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You make your choice in an instant and dart into the second room, making immediately for the hidden passage. Your feet barely skim the stone as you pivot sharply, lunging through the open doorway to your left. The room is a wreck, its once-grand furniture smashed to splinters, books and papers scattered across the floor. Dust swirls in the air, disturbed by your frantic movements. Behind you, the knight’s boots thunder down the stairs. "Now, now, Princess. I see you!" Your hands fly to the bookshelf, trailing along the carved wood until... there. Your fingers find the notch, pressing inward with all your strength. Click. The shelf groans open, revealin…
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You make your choice in an instant. The door at the end of the hall. Every instinct screams that the quickest way out is straight ahead, no hesitation. You sprint forward, feet pounding against the stone floor, breath ragged in your throat. The ruined hallway stretches before you, littered with shattered furniture, torn banners, and broken weapons. The air is thick with the smell of ash, blood, and something burning. Behind you, the knight is still coming. His boots thunder against the stairs, his laughter rolling through the corridor like a predator toying with his prey. "Run, little princess. Run faster." You don't look back. You slam your shoulder into the he…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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The knight’s smirk deepens, his amusement turning sharper. He knows you lied. His sword is in his hand, his patience wearing thin. This is where most people break. This is where he expects you to stammer, to beg, to fall apart. So you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head, letting your lips part slightly, softening your expression. You let the tension shift, not into fear, but into something else. Something he wasn’t expecting. "I lied," you admit, exhaling as if resigned, as if you’re suddenly very aware of the space between you. Your voice is lower now, a thread of quiet vulnerability woven into it. "But only because I didn't know. I thought you'd be like the rest, no…
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You hold your ground, despite the heavy weight of his gaze, the way his fingers still hover near his dagger. The tension in the air is suffocating, but you don’t back down, you push forward. "If you kill me," you say, voice low, steady, "you will doom your king." The knight lets out a short, amused exhale, but there’s an edge of uncertainty behind it. "Is that so?" You take a slow breath, keeping your expression composed, your lie already forming. You have to sell this. "My father knew this war was coming," you say, inventing history as you go, layering truth with deception. "Before your army ever reached our gates, before the first sword was drawn, he…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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"If your king is wise," you say, voice measured, even, "he will see the advantage in this." You hold your ground, even as he steps closer, his shadow falling over you like a noose tightening. The weight of his presence is oppressive, but you do not falter. You have his attention, and that is power. His fingers graze the hilt of his dagger, but you refuse to acknowledge the threat. You will not show fear. "You have already won the battle," you continue, keeping your voice steady, authoritative, the way your father once spoke in court. "But if you kill me, the war is far from over." The knight raises a brow, intrigued but skeptical. "Is that so?" "You kn…
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Your fingers fly to the strap on your thigh, finding the familiar smooth hilt of another throwing knife. You can’t let him close the distance, not when he’s bigger, stronger, and armored. Not when you’re already breathing too hard, your heart slamming against your ribs like a caged animal. You yank the blade free, steadying your grip even as you backpedal, trying to gain ground. The knight snarls, his bloodied shoulder heaving, but his pace doesn’t slow. He’s fast, but you’re faster. You snap your wrist, sending another blade spinning through the air. This time, he’s ready. His gauntleted hand jerks up, and the knife glances off the steel, clattering uselessly …
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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Your breath hitches, your pulse hammering in your ears. The weight of the bit of chain hanging from your collar is suddenly unbearable, as if it’s tightening, pulling you back into the hands of the monster this man before you works for. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to still your trembling fingers as you drop them from the chain. You can’t fight him. He’s too big, too strong, and you don’t even know how many more are lurking in the ruins, waiting to drag you back in irons. If you resist, he’ll enjoy breaking you. But if you play along, if you act weak, you might get close enough to strike when he least expects it. So you let your shoulders slump, let your gaze d…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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Your grip tightens on the cool metal of the doorknob. The voice from the other side of the door is smooth, controlled, confident, a man used to getting what he wants. A man who expects you to comply. That expectation hangs in the air between you like a challenge. You push the door open and step inside. The room is dimly lit, bathed in the golden glow of a single lamp perched on the edge of a sleek black desk. Floor-to-ceiling curtains smother any outside light, sealing the space in an unnatural hush. The scent of cologne, leather, and whiskey lingers in the air. It feels intentional, designed. At the far end of the room, he sits. The director. An older man, stil…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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Your grip tightens on the cool metal of the doorknob. The words from the other side of the door are smooth as silk but threaded with darker expectations. You breathe in. Steady yourself. You are an actress, not a toy, not a decoration, not prey. You push the door open and step inside, your heels clicking against the polished wood floor. The room beyond is dimly lit, the glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across plush leather furniture and a sleek, black desk. Floor-to-ceiling curtains are drawn over what you assume are windows, their heavy fabric muffling the sounds of the city beyond. The air is thick with cologne and the faint bite of whiskey. At the far en…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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"Hop hop, little bunny," says a voice that is both a rasping whisper and an eager chitter all at once. You jump, and feel your ears stand straight up twitching at the sound of the voice, panic gripping your heart. Your body is frozen in place, your bare feet pressed against the damp, moss-covered floor of the ruined office, your heart pounding in your chest. The scent of mildew and metal fills your nose, but you can smell the creature as well; something about him is somehow familiar. It reminds you of home, the burrow, your family. Then you see it. A shape slinks forward from the shadows, low to the ground, moving with an unsettling grace, half-lurking, half-sta…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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The woman before you is no leashling, no trembling wench waiting for the collar. She stands with her blade low but ready, her stance solid, balanced. She knows how to fight. Her armor is cobbled together from scavenged sports gear, reinforced leather, and rusted plating, but it’s more than just protection. It tells a story. She's survived, she's killed, and she’s not afraid of you. "Looks like you've lost another leashling, Meatdog," she taunts, her lips curling into a smirk. mocking you. You sneer, your grip tightening on the hilt of your machete. The blade is old, its jagged edge nicked and dark with dried blood, but it has never failed you before. Your finger…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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"My Lord, we are victorious! House Valoryn is defeated!" The words ring out through the ruined throne room, heavy with triumph. You breathe in the stench of death, the lingering traces of a battle that was brutal but decisive. This castle, this throne room, belongs to House Edrington now, to you. Your gloved hand tightens around the hilt of your sword as you look down at the lifeless body at your feet. King Valoryn, a man who had once commanded respect and fear, now lies in an undignified heap, his face turned away, his crown cast aside. Even in death, his hand reaches toward it, as if even his final act was to cling to power he no longer held. You allow yourself a m…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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The receptionist’s polite smile is gone, replaced by clinical detachment. Her expression is unreadable, her tone flat, practiced, as though she’s said this a hundred times before. "Step in, strip off your civvies, place them in the box, and wait until you're called." The words are simple, direct, but the weight behind them isn't. Your pulse kicks up despite your training. You’ve been through intake procedures before, the routine of medical evaluations and psychological screenings, but this feels different. Your boots scuff against the floor as you step forward, your muscles tight, your mind already running scenarios. As you walk, you look down at yourself and re…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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The receptionist’s polite smile never falters as she taps a manicured finger against something on the desk, her gaze flicking over you with clinical precision, as if measuring your worth before she’s even spoken a word. "You're the last audition," she says, her voice smooth, devoid of any real warmth. She tilts her head slightly, studying you in a way that makes your skin itch. "Please come in, Miss Hastings." Miss Hastings? The name sits uneasily in your mind, unfamiliar yet somehow expected. Like an old coat slipped over your shoulders without you realizing it. But you don’t correct her. You don’t ask who she thinks you are. You just stand, feeling the weight …
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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The knight is on you before you can move. His hands are tugging at your skirts, exposing your calves, your thighs, your undergarments. He lets out a grunt of approval as he sees your bare inner thigh, and slides his hand up between your legs, groping you roughly. His grin is feral, predatory. His hand closes on your most private parts and he nearly lifts you up off the floor as he gropes you. A jolt of fear runs through you. His hand comes away from your legs, your skirts bunched up uncomfortably between your legs, and he leers over you, pulling you up roughly. You only make it as far as one knee before his hand is fisted in your hair and he holds you there, shoving…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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Your hands tremble, but it isn't fear that makes them shake, it's rage. This man, this invader, this butcher, thinks he can stand here, in the ruins of your home, over the blood of your father, and offer you life in chains? That he can strip you of everything and expect you to kneel at his feet like some grateful pet? Your lip curls in disgust. Over my dead body, you think to yourself, and you spit in his face. The glob of saliva lands just below his eye, sliding down his cheek. The moment it happens, the entire world stills. The air between you is electric, humming with the weight of your defiance. The knight doesn't move, doesn't speak. He just slowly wipes his che…
Last reply by IsabellaRose , -
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Your breath is unsteady, your mind racing. You are beaten. The weight of your father's death, your kingdom's fall, and the cold steel of the knight's grip around your wrist remind you of that with every thudding heartbeat. But submission is not your only option. You lift your chin, just slightly, enough to show him you are still a Valoryn. Enough to make him hesitate, even if only for a second. "I won't beg," you say, your voice quieter than you intend, but steady. "And I won't pretend I have the power to fight you." His smirk remains, but there’s a flicker of curiosity in his sharp eyes. He waits, letting you speak. "But killing me would be a waste," …
Last reply by IsabellaRose ,
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