Interactive Choice Game Novels & Stories

Let the game begin. --

Touch… Chloe gave a shake of her head in an effort to clear her mind of the foggy haze that seemed to be encompassing her. "I don't know what game you are playing, Timothy, but—" she began "I never play games, honey... Not anymore" he assured her softly. She didn't know what to think about him calling her honey, but for the moment Chloe was too concerned by the threat he represented to her, to her equilibrium, to bother asking him about it. "You are playing one right now. And it isn't funny." she reproved. "Please don't say things like that if...please just don't"

I nodded, "What are the mechanics of the game?" "I have a roulette game on my phone, we're going to put our names here..." he showed me his phone on which the roulette game was the display, "...then, we're going to spin it. Whose name the arrow stopped, that person will choose to answer our question or she/he chooses to drink, but of course, we are going to decide which drink she/he will drink." I smirked. I just have to answer their every question when the arrow points to my name, right?

Landon stands as he pulls me. "What game? This early?" I chuckle. He nods and his eyes looking certain for this game. "It's also an exercise for you so get your lazy bum up." He tells me. "My bum isn't lazy." I disagreed. He chuckles, "It is. But I love your bum." He winks at me sexily. I playfully smack his arm and he chuckles at me before I ask, "So how do you play this game you want to play?" "It's called Shell Competition." He answers.

A tremor runs from my hand up my arm and directly to my dick. Wow. “This one,” she says, looking up at me through inky lashes. I shift in my seat, trying to bring my body under control, and turn up my palm. It’s the gray pawn. “Black.” I turn the board so that the gray chess pieces are in front of her. “Okay. I’ll start.” Four moves in and I’m dragging my hands through my hair. “As usual, you’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?” My tone is wry.

I squeezed Jonas’s hand before moving to Osirus’ side as he called everyone to order. “Our first game is to see how many kills you can obtain in half an hour, only using your Goddess-given abilities. We will hunt in teams of ten. The winner will get their choice of a date partner for tonight. The date will be at any restaurant in the area and paid for by my father. Now, who wants to be in the first group?” he asked. I thrust my hand confidently into the air. “I want to go.”

Queens in a chess game where men thought themselves kings. Amira sipped the champagne a waiter placed in her hand, letting her eyes sweep the room. Every interaction was laced with double meaning. A touch on the arm, a whispered word, a glance held too long. Alliances and betrayals danced in the air, hidden beneath the guise of polite society. Montez placed a hand on her back, guiding her deeper into the crowd. His touch burned through the silk, possessive and unyielding. She stiffened, whispering sharply, “Don’t touch me.”

I curved my lips and said, “This game is too old-fashioned. Let’s change to another one.” Everyone looked at me. My gaze swept over Rican and Ailina and I curved my lips. “How about having a test of tacit understanding.” “How to play?” Everyone asked. “Two people in the group. It's not difficult to guess the partner’s preference and personality. It's just about food, drink, and hobby. The more you guess correctly, the higher the tacit understanding you have.” “It sounds fun, but how do we guess?” Someone asked again. I choose a small game on the karaoke machine and then open the game of tacit understanding.

Under the breathless gaze of thirty pairs of eyes, my finger leisurely scrolled through the betting interface of the internal app, decisively placing a wager on the 1:100 option. A dirty game of probability, and I had just personally activated the very first chess piece.

"There's a difference. Pushing is aggressive. Not being present is just... abandonment dressed up as respect." "I don't know how to do this," I said. "Just move," Eli said. "Just let your hand touch mine. It's not a decision that needs strategy. It's just proximity. It's just connection." I turned my hand, and our fingers made contact on the counter. Not hands held. Just fingertips touching. Just that small acknowledgment of physical presence. The moment stretched. "I'm sorry," I said. "I know," Eli said. "But sorry isn't enough anymore. You need to show me that you're actually choosing this."