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I'm Kelly. Everyone calls me Speed. I'm all about control. I'm in control on the racetrack. I'm in control of my car. I'm in control of how I fought to raise my deaf little brother. I live for being in control. Except in my personal life, I have no control and I don't know how to handle it. I don't know where I fit. Should I go with what I have been taught all my life as normal or should I give in to myself and let my true desires come out. I'm Brick. When I first met Speed I could see instantly she needed someone to take control. She needed the Dom in me to help her safely explore her needs and desires. She needed to submit to me and to her true self. She needed me to guide her as she explores who she is and what she wants. She needs a safe place only I can give her to step past what was drilled into her as right and follow her heart. I'm Gretchen. I'm a bunny for the Reckless Renegades. I service the members, most of the time means having sex with them. I was ok with that. Well, I was ok with it until I met Speed. I was drawn to her instantly. I wanted to get to know her but more than that I wanted to be with her. Before I can even make a move she finds out I'm a bunny and won't speak to me anymore. Being a bunny was fine for me but now I want more. I want to help Brick to get Speed to open up. I want to be with her in every way even if that means sharing her with him and giving up my bunny was.

One day, billions woke up on an endless highway. One vehicle each. One life each. No exits. Others got scooters, bicycles, or tractors. Jake Maddox got a beat-up motorhome. Level-one zombies have 20 strength. Humans have 5. And Cthulhu monsters lurk in the mist. This isn't a game—it's a slaughter. But Jake has a cheat: Gold Mods. He glances at his status screen and smirks. "Not enough stats? Gold mods to the rescue." [Fuel Tank] + [Infinite] = unlimited fuel. Floor it and leave everyone choking on dust. [Tires] + [Indestructible] = unbreakable, unshakable, unstoppable. No attack gets through. [Motorhome] + [Spatial Folding] = a mobile fortress that fits it all — storage, pool, villa, armory, and more. [Windows] + [One-Way Transparent] = armored steel to the outside, panoramic views from within. Total safety, zero claustrophobia. While others shiver and barter their souls for half a bottle of gas, Jake sits in his climate-controlled motorhome, eating a steaming-hot chicken pie, watching a Cthulhu boss try to break in. His calm response? "That tentacle would taste pretty good grilled." … From Lv.1 Beater Motorhome to Lv.100 Ark of the Old Ages—as long as Jake can imagine it, no mod is off the table. Gold mods. Show me your limits.

They are in love and they both have the same desire. To safeguard the lives of their respective families and the whole village. Raiden and Harriet are naturally born leaders and hunters. Werewolf hunters are what they're called. Trained to become cowboys and campers. They had their first kill at thirteen and they became addicted. Raiden served as a trainer, dedicated truck driver, and loyal to his advocacy as a werewolf hunter. An accident occurred and it changed him into a monster. How and why did it happen? He wasn't sure. The capture of him by the pack of wolves revealed his real color and origin. He was a half-blooded werewolf. He will soon become the strongest weapon to defeat the enemies. Now, he was confused about who the enemies were. The ones who raised, trained, and gave him much love or the group of new friends who look up to him as their future Alpha king?

My wife, Nova Quill, has grown addicted to the thrill and the fresh excitement of immersive horror games. She spends almost all of her time in the gaming room fighting with the game's boss every day. Sometimes, she even screams things like, "No!" and "Come at me if you dare!". Every time she's done playing, she'll slump on the couch with flushed cheeks, looking very exhausted. But Nova has crossed a line by skipping out on my birthday banquet just so she can fight the boss. Unable to take it anymore, I bring up divorce in front of her. Nova thinks I'm just making a molehill out of a tiny thing. "I'm helping you test out a project that your company has invested in! You should be elated that the game is super fun!" I just sneer at her in return. "Who knows if you love the game or the boss himself? Anyway, I'm definitely divorcing you, no questions asked!"

On the day I won the national esports championship, my girlfriend of eight years told me she wanted to go on stage and personally present me with flowers. Standing on the podium, my heart was racing. I reached into my pocket to pull out the ring I'd hidden there, ready to propose to her in front of the entire nation. But what happened next shocked me. She giggled and, instead of handing me the bouquet, she gave it to her male best friend. Under the bright lights, they became the center of attention. The crowd cheered, and their congratulatory messages flooded the trending topics. Even his fans tagged me in posts, mocking, [I told you not to get in the way of our couple, now look at you.] I simply posted on Twitter, [Respect and blessings. Please be locked together forever.]

To pay off my student loans, I started doing spicy streams online. I never thought I'd actually blow up. Every night, my audience floods the chat, fawning over my face and my body. I love the attention, and I work hard to give them what they want. Until I was dropped into a horror game. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a rotting corpse. And for some reason, my livestream was still running. When the game’s Boss told us all to pick a weapon to die by. The other players all chose to die of old age, or peacefully in their sleep like a baby. I turned my phone to face the boss. "My fans think you're hot," I stammered. "They want me to be killed by... well, by the weapon between your legs. They said 'deeply.' Is that... an option?" The other players whispered among themselves. “This woman must have a death wish.” “Just watch. The Boss is about to tear her to shreds.” But no one expected the Boss to blush.