There was no warning.
No flashing light. No trembling ground. Not even a creepy voice whispering in my ear.
One second, I was lying on the couch, halfway through a cold slice of pizza, and the next, I was face-down on a floor that felt like velvet, breathing in something that smelled suspiciously like strawberries and sin.
I blinked. Once. Twice. The pizza was gone. My couch was gone. The living room of our cramped two-bedroom apartment had been replaced by something far more... ornate.
Opulent wasn't even the right word. This place looked like it belonged in the fever dream of a high-end hentai illustrator.
Red carpets stretched endlessly in all directions, lined with floating candles that didn't seem to care about gravity. The walls shimmered like wet silk, covered in gold-framed paintings I wasn't entirely sure were legal. Every inch of this place pulsed with the kind of erotic energy I'd only ever encountered on certain very questionable websites.
And at the center of it all, sitting on a throne made of heart-shaped cushions, was her.
She looked like a final boss.
Long violet hair spilled around her shoulders like liquid night, her golden eyes narrowed into something between a glare and a leer. Her body was impossibly perfect, the kind of perfection that made you uncomfortable because it clearly wasn't fair. Clad in a glossy, barely-there corset and heels that defied physics, she exhaled slowly, watching me with a mix of amusement and something sharper.
"Are you awake yet, mortal?" she asked, tapping a long, painted nail against her cheek. "Or should I slap you into consciousness?"
I groaned and pushed myself up to my knees. "Where... What... Who are you?"
She scoffed. "Typical. Earthlings really are pathetic."
I tried to stand but immediately stumbled. My legs felt like spaghetti. Not the firm kind. The boiled, overcooked mess that sticks to the strainer.
"Okay," I muttered. "This is a dream. This is clearly a dream. Probably something I ate. I knew that pizza was cursed."
"Wrong," she said, rising from her throne with a grace that belonged in slow motion. "This is very real. You, my dear degenerate, have been summoned."
"Summoned?" I stared at her. "By you?"
"Indeed." Her lips curved into a wicked smile. "I am Aphrenia, the Goddess of Carnal Imagination. Creator of all things erotic and digital. Empress of the Eroverse."
"Ero... what now?"
"The multiverse of erotic games, naturally." She twirled a strand of her hair, and sparkles followed her fingers like obedient fireflies. "I create them. Worlds filled with lust and adventure. Characters crafted from the deepest desires of humanity. And you, insignificant as you are, have insulted me."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
She snapped her fingers. A screen materialized in midair beside her, displaying a familiar website. My stomach dropped as I saw the logo of LustForge, the site where my roommate—and okay, sometimes me—downloaded adult games.
Then the page scrolled down, and there it was.
A scathing one-star review titled "Garbage writing, stiff animation, and even stiffer characters. Pure cringe."
My name was plastered right beneath it.
Except it wasn't me. It was my roommate's handle.
"No no no, wait," I said, holding up my hands like a hostage negotiator. "That's not me. That's my roommate, Jason. He's the one who leaves those edgy reviews. I don't even write reviews. I barely comment!"
"You expect me to believe that?" Aphrenia's voice was silk laced with venom. "You are 'ThotSlayer69', are you not?"
I nearly choked. "Absolutely not! That's Jason! He thought it was funny. Look, I only play the games. Sometimes. Rarely. Mostly for the story!"
She gave me a long, searching look.
"You seem awfully defensive for someone who claims innocence."
"Because I'm being threatened by a literal sex goddess over something I didn't do!"
"Hmm." Her fingers hovered beside the floating screen. "I could probe your soul and verify your claim."
"Sounds invasive."
"It is," she replied with a smirk. "But effective."
"I'll give you his social handles, his playlist history, and his search terms. You'll see who the real pervert is."
Aphrenia tilted her head. "You are rather quick to throw your companion under the metaphorical bus."
"We share a bathroom. I have zero loyalty left."
That made her laugh. It was low and smoky, a sound that made my ears tingle in a way I didn't like admitting.
She flicked her fingers. The screen vanished.
"Very well. Let's say I believe you. That begs the question—what do I do with you now?"
I swallowed hard. "Let me go?"
She pursed her lips. "Tempting. But the summoning ritual was... rather expensive. And now that you're here, perhaps I can make use of you."
I didn't like where this was going.
"Use me how?"
"As a tester."
I blinked. "A... tester?"
She clapped her hands. A glowing portal opened beside us, showing a town square filled with scantily clad NPCs and suggestive architecture. The buildings looked like someone asked AI to design a brothel-themed fantasy village.
"My next game is in beta," she said. "I require someone... average. Someone painfully normal. Someone human."
"Wow. Thanks."
"You're welcome. Your job will be simple. Survive the world, interact with the characters, and provide honest feedback. If you perform well, perhaps I'll consider sending you home."
"And if I don't?"
She grinned. "Let's just say your data might become part of the next update."
My blood ran cold. "So I'm stuck here in a porn game?"
"Not just any porn game." She floated closer. "My magnum opus. A world designed to corrupt, seduce, and challenge. One wrong choice could leave you in a permanent harem. Another could have you dommed by an elf queen."
"That doesn't sound like punishment to some people."
"Then you misunderstand the tone," she said. "These aren't just fantasies. They're trials. There is no reload. No save scumming. Only choices and consequences."
"Right." I rubbed my temples. "And I'm assuming you're not giving me a manual."
"Nope."
"Not even a tutorial?"
She smirked again. "You'll figure it out."
Before I could protest, the portal widened.
Wind rushed around us, carrying the scent of roses and something far more... arousing.
I stepped back. "Wait. Wait. Can I at least—"
She gave me a gentle push.
I tumbled.
The last thing I saw was her wicked smile, framed in glowing violet light.
Then the world turned upside down.
—
I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Soft potatoes, thankfully. The landing zone was a bouncy field of oversized pink flowers, the kind you'd see in an acid trip or a very adult version of Alice in Wonderland.
Groaning, I pushed myself up and looked around.
The sky was lavender. The sun had cleavage. Actual, literal cleavage, like someone had taken a woman's chest and stuck it in the sky with golden halos. Birds chirped above me in the shape of floating lip gloss. A bunny in fishnets winked and ran off into the trees.
"What the actual hell?"
A notification appeared before me in bold, sparkly letters:
Welcome, Player. Your Lust Level is currently: ZERO. Please interact with NPCs to unlock your kinks and discover your path. Be warned: choices are permanent.
Then it vanished.
I exhaled slowly. "Okay. Jason is so dead when I get home."
A rustling sound came from the bushes.
I froze.
Out stepped a girl. Or a woman. Or something that looked like it had crawled out of a waifu generator and landed squarely in the top search results.
She had big eyes, bigger... proportions, and an outfit that made less sense than her physics-defying walk cycle. Her skirt was practically a belt. Her top was just a ribbon.
"Hi there!" she chirped, her voice sugary enough to cause diabetes. "You must be the new transfer student!"
"I... guess?"
"You're late for Orientation!" she pouted. "Come on! Mistress Aphrenia will scold me if I don't deliver you."
"Wait, she's here too?"
"She watches everything. Always. Even bath time."
That was not comforting.
The girl grabbed my arm with surprising strength and tugged me down a glittering path lined with trees that looked like candy canes and moaned when the wind passed through them. I didn't ask. I didn't want to know.
As we walked, she talked.
Nonstop.
Apparently, I was now enrolled in the Lewd Academy, a place designed to train the next generation of erotic champions. Whatever that meant.
There were Houses—like in a wizard school, but horny. Challenges, minigames, seduction duels. Something called the "Milking Exam," which I absolutely did not ask about.
Everything was tied to stats. Lust, Charm, Willpower, Stamina, Libido. I didn't even know how to level up yet.
Eventually, we reached a towering castle made entirely of smooth white stone and pink vines that pulsed in a way that made me profoundly uncomfortable. A pair of statues flanked the entrance—both depicting Aphrenia in two wildly inappropriate poses.
The girl turned to me with a bright smile.
"Good luck! Don't die!"
And then she was gone.
The doors opened on their own.
I stepped inside.
The interior was worse.
A grand hallway stretched before me, lined with student portraits that changed poses when I looked away. Moaning echoed from the upper floors. A succubus floated past, eyeing me like a snack. A glowing arrow appeared on the floor, urging me toward the main hall.
And in that moment, as I followed the path deeper into the erotic hellscape, only one thought echoed in my brain:
This is all Jason's fault.