It wasn't the epic death he imagined.
One moment, Maxwell "Max" Blake was stepping out of the shower, humming a song from a show he couldn't admit he watched. The next, he was airborne, feet flailing, betrayed by a rogue banana peel on the tile floor.
The last thing he saw was the bathroom ceiling.
Then—darkness.
Max didn't expect an afterlife. He wasn't religious, and his gaming backlog made him more concerned about dying before finishing anything. But when he opened his eyes, he wasn't in a hospital or surrounded by weeping family. He was lying shirtless on a glowing stone altar, with a dozen pairs of… bouncing assets looming over him.
"Behold!" a sultry voice echoed. "The chosen one awakens!"
Max blinked.
Over him stood five women dressed like they lost a fight with a lingerie store. A demoness with violet skin and glowing red eyes leaned in first. Her horns curled back elegantly, her smirk full of wicked curiosity.
"He's cuter than I expected. Look at that confused little face," she cooed, tapping his nose.
Max sat up with a start. "Am I in a cult? Did I get kidnapped? Is this a weird convention?"
"Silence, mortal," another woman barked. She was a towering knight in black armor—what little of it there was. Her breastplate covered nothing but symbolism. "You've been summoned to the Realm of Gaiah. Chosen by the Goddess Herself."
Max stared. "By the goddess… for what exactly?"
A new voice filled the room—deep, melodic, and impossible to ignore.
"For a divine purpose."
The women parted. Floating just above the ground was a woman with long golden hair, dressed in nothing but translucent silk and confidence. Her eyes gleamed like galaxies. A divine aura shimmered around her, part motherly, part seductress.
"I am the Goddess of Lust and Contracts," she said. "You, Max Blake, have been selected as the world's only Breeding Contractor."
Max coughed. "The world's only what now?"
The goddess floated closer, placing her palm on his chest. A glowing symbol bloomed over his heart—an open scroll entwined with a heart-shaped quill.
"A sacred class," she explained. "You forge bonds with powerful women through… physical contracts. Each fulfilled pact strengthens you and your partners. With each union, your magic grows."
Max blinked again. "So… I level up by…?"
She smiled. "Exactly."
He stared up at her, half-naked, half-terrified, and entirely aroused. "You're telling me my power comes from… banging magical women?"
The demoness giggled. The knight crossed her arms. A bunny-eared mage in the back raised her hand. "Do we, like, sign up now or…?"
Max's nose bled. He passed out.
Max awoke to a warm towel on his forehead and the faint scent of vanilla and leather.
"Rise and shine, contractor boy," a soft voice murmured.
He opened his eyes to the sight of soft cleavage and a concerned pair of emerald eyes. The bunny-eared mage from earlier knelt beside him, now holding a bowl of what looked like glowing soup.
"Drink this," she said. "It'll stabilize your mana. And maybe your blood pressure."
Max sat up slowly. "So this wasn't a dream? The banana peel really did me in?"
She giggled. "Yeah. The goddess said it was the funniest death she'd seen in decades."
Max groaned, taking the bowl. "Typical. I survive college debt and LA traffic, but fruit gets the final blow."
Across the room, the goddess floated lazily in the air like some divine pin-up, sipping wine from a glass that never emptied.
"I told you," she said. "You died a virgin with massive repressed potential. Your soul practically screamed for release."
Max choked on the soup. "I didn't die a virgin—!"
She raised a brow.
"…I mostly didn't die a virgin."
The demoness leaned in from the side. "Your power is unique, Max. Most heroes swing swords or chant spells. You? You forge intimate pacts that supercharge your partner's abilities—and yours."
"Through sex," he deadpanned.
"Through breeding rituals," the knight corrected, standing proudly, one armored boot on a stone bench. "Rituals that require dedication, stamina, and… imagination."
Max rubbed his face. "Okay, hold on. Let me get this straight. You summoned me here, gave me this ridiculous class, and expect me to just… start sleeping with women to level up?"
"Yes," said the goddess.
"You summoned me specifically because I have… gifted semen?"
"Precisely."
"Did nobody else apply for this job?"
The bunny mage raised her hand sheepishly. "You were the highest-rated candidate on DivineMatch. Your profile said, and I quote, 'Down for anything but emotional commitment.'"
Max buried his face in his hands. "Oh god, I'm going to save the world with post-nut clarity."
The goddess clapped her hands. "Now you understand!"
A book materialized before him, hovering midair. Its title, written in glowing pink runes, read:
The Pact Ledger: Volume One — Get In, Get Buff, Get Blessed.
"This will record every contract," she said. "Name, species, power gains, fertility rating, stamina feedback—"
"Okay, okay!" Max waved his hands. "I get it!"
The knight stepped forward, eyes fierce. "So? Are you ready to accept your role as the world's first Dungeon Daddy?"
Max stared at the book, then at the five curvaceous women eagerly watching him.
He sighed. "Can I at least put pants on first?"
The goddess smiled. "Only if you're planning to take them off again soon."
Max blinked.
"…Yeah. Alright. Let's do this."