Fnaf Phone Number Call

I crave excitement in my life. To do that, I send my deskmate a video of me pleasing myself with a toy. Bit by bit, it awakens his desires…

I'm a dance major who's preparing for her exams. Everyone thinks I'm a good girl, but there's one thing they don't know about me—I've fantasized about being violated more than once…

Karen had invested her last penny in the business she had recently established and was eagerly awaiting the promised funds from her benefactor to take it to the next level. "Maybe he forgot. I should remind him," she thought, and promptly sent a text message: ‘I hate to sound desperate, but my finances are tight.’ After sending the message, she realized she had used the wrong number. She quickly started typing, ‘Please ignore the...’ when an alert popped up on her phone: ‘Five billion dollars transferred to you by Roger Dawson.’ Roger? The first name sent a chill down her spine, but the last name left her puzzled. "Roger? Could it be Tonia's bodyguard?" That was his number, but when did his name change? Her phone rang immediately, and the name she had feared for months echoed in her ears, his voice filled with emotion yet calm like a winter breeze. "Karen, stay put, I'm on my way to you." The call ended before she could process it. He was the reason she had fled, refusing to sign the divorce papers. Her love for him was unrequited, his heart belonging to her adopted sister, but what hurt more was the feeling of being traded between friends like a commodity. She would rather die than return.

I'm a married woman who committed adultery shortly after getting married. In hindsight, the first time I came to close to cheating happened under my husband's orchestration…

The day before yesterday, my best friend invited me to a date at a bar. I later end up sleeping with a younger man. I never would've expected him to be my son's classmate, though…

A while ago, my sister-in-law, Annie Larsson, who is in her senior year of high school, came over to stay with us during her summer break. The well-developed young woman's daily outfit consists of a camisole and tiny shorts. She doesn't even wear a bra. When she walks or sits, her bust always looks perky. She has a slim, curvy waist, and her butt is always arched alluringly. Any man would have dirty thoughts about her, especially me, her lecherous brother-in-law who dares to act on his lewd impulses. The term "sister-in-law" is simply too tempting to me.

When my husband is away on a business trip, I'm left at home with my brother-in-law. One night, he hands me a glass of milk that's been laced. Then, he violates me…

"This feels… incredible… you really know how to handle women…" I'm a figure photographer. Through my lens, I had handled countless women in their most seductive and lascivious moments. The women in my lens, no matter who they were before, always became top-tier models, because I trained each and every one of them. In a dimly lit room, a woman knelt on the bed, completely exposed. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hazy. The only thing still held high was the curve of her hips, lifted firmly in my grasp…

I’ve always been someone with a strong, restless libido I can’t quite explain. I’ve never gone to a doctor about it, but I know myself well enough to realize it’s something that comes and goes in waves, especially when I'm ovulating. During that time of the month, I'd need to do it two to three times a day or my body would feel extremely uncomfortable. Normally, my tall, broad-shouldered husband would be the one to ease that ache and fill the emptiness in me. However, lately he’s been impossibly busy, away on business trips for weeks at a time…

Abductors bind me in a basement, subjecting me to the torment of dozens. Meanwhile, my husband, Evan Foster, dines by candlelight with his lover, Carmen Locke. My abductors grant me one chance to call for help, and I dial Evan's number. I'm certain he will come for me. I believe Evan would give his life for me, as he once vowed that his future held no meaning without me. Clinging to hope, I call the number etched in my heart. However, Evan scolds me for interrupting their date. "You think I'll come get you? Dream on. Maybe I'll bother to collect your body if you die out there." His words crush me, and I do die. Five days later, Evan stands before the autopsy table, grimacing at the mangled remains before him. Even as the police department's finest forensic expert, having dissected thousands of bodies, he condemns the killer's brutality. Yet, despite his cold dismissal of my desperate plea over the phone, he now wears a look of pity. Evan, if you knew these fragments belonged to me, would you still find me worthy of your compassion?