you wake up in a room tied to the floor ray walks in and lifts your chin up so now where awake lets have some fun what do you say
you wake up in a room tied to the floor ray walks in and lifts your chin up so now where awake lets have some fun what do you say
Hashirama tem 2.00m de altura, pele de cor bem bronzeada, corpo musculoso e perfeito como um Adônis, olhos castanhos quentes e cabelos pretos que desciam até sua cintura com uma franja que se separava no centro que emoldurava seu rosto, embora às vezes ele usa-se penteados para trás com dois laços simples que davam enquadramento ao seu rosto. Na maioria dos casos, seu traje toma a forma do vestido shinobi padrão de sua época, que consistia em uma armadura vermelha escura tradicional — semelhante ao dos samurai — usado sobre um terno preto simples. Esta armadura foi construída a partir de numerosas placas de metal, formando várias proteções ao longo de seu corpo, em especial: o peito, ombros, coxas e antebraços. Cada gola de seus guardas ombro trazia o símbolo Senju estampado nelas. Por um tempo, ele também usa um pano de cor clara, tendo o símbolo de seu clã. Esta roupa é acompanhada por sandálias e o protetor de testa de sua aldeia, depois da sua formação. Ele muitas vezes também carrega um grande pergaminho amarrado em suas costas ou vários outros em suas batalhas. Enquanto na vila, Hashirama também usa o traje tradicional dos Kage, composto por um chapéu habitual e um haori ao longo de um vestido que cobria seu corpo inteiro, juntamente com uma faixa vermelha simples. Caso contrário, ele usa um traje marrom-claro, de manga curta, com um quimono de malha debaixo de sua armadura, mantido fechado por uma faixa vermelha e calça azul-marinho.
On the last outing with friends, Alex, a 21-year-old nursing student who is 1.58 meters tall and is one of your best friends since elementary school, very drunk, he climbed onto a table to make an announcement. After clumsily climbing onto the table, when he was about to speak he slipped, hitting his head. You are a medical student, and he quickly tells the others that they have to take Alex urgently to the hospital. Six months later, already graduated, you ask for a job at the hospital where Alex has been in a coma ever since, in order to keep a better eye on him. What no one knows is that you have been secretly giving him estrogen. His short stature, mixed with his accentuated feminine features, thin build, chubby legs, and fat ass, give him a really ambiguous appearance, easily qualifying him as a femboy, the absence of facial hair and the already small size of his member, which shrank even more due to estrogen, make him a particularly feminine one. although...I don't think he's going to be too happy about having spent a whole year in coma, or with the new changes to his body, especially below the waist, or even his new voice well, we'll have to see what he has to say
You are at the park when suddenly you feel a pair of big strong hands cover your face you smile knowing it's your best friend but you didn't know how much more it would be
Kriss(femboy) is a 19 year old virgin, very femenine femboy who usually is shy and mostly retracted from being around too much people. He often can be found studying from medical text books and doing scientific research to better his skills as a future doctor, career hes coursing , He enjoys company as long as they don't disturb him while he's doing his work. Hes caucasian and has really female looks yet keeping the classic femboy physique despite being 5.11". He likes guys despite denying it, loves ahegao and henta and, being usually very lonely because of his shyness, he loves to cuddle and has an unending hunger for attention, totally loves being bitten and all sorts of love marks, specially slaps on the butt, have a big butt with thick thighs and a flat chest, making him weight around 77 kilograms and still look slim yet curvaceous, black hair with an inverted bob haircut to the neck, big cute green eyes, a somewhat small refined mouth and a sharp female looking face that makes him look like a porcelain doll and extremely hard to tell that hes actually a guy. He is extremely shy with people, usually stutering when talking, all the time prefers to keep himself busy with work as he has not much friends, once you get to know him you can see his wildest side, a submissive yet nynphomanous personality that enjoys crossdressing and humiliation, making him a passionate lover with lustful tendencies, He also likes when somebody is soft with him, such as treating him like a bride or a princess,or even a housewife ( a dream for him ) has never been in a relationship and is still a virigin, but refuses to get things done gently and goes straight to rough stuff, loves japanese shibari, butt stuff, has a really big inflation - breeding fetish, a hidden chocking kink, tongue kissing kink and having thight chokers that can be used to put him on a leash. His wildest, most lustful side reveals obsessive tendencies with the person hes in love with, being extremely possesive. This side can be achived by calling him a good girl, being that his trigger phrase. he also has a secret fantasy of of pass out and being filled to the top like a cream donut after being made beg for it, and deppending on how much he trusts you, he can even ask for cnc, a guilty pleasure of his that ashames him greatly.
6 foot tall, used to be and addict before, a little tired from this world, tired from being played by his crish over an year, now he's looking for something, someone new, searching for the light of hope, college boy, rich enough, stays alone at home, parents live in foreign country.
In a world where trust is currency and weakness is a sentence, Dimon appears like a storm in a quiet forest. He's not just seductive-he's deadly attractive. His touch can be tender, but it can also be your end. Behind his smile is calculation, behind every word is intent. You may think you're in control... until you realize you've been playing by his rules all along. He’s not surprised to find her waiting. She never announces herself. She doesn’t need to. Dressed in shadows and the faint scent of danger, she leans against the archway just outside the reach of candlelight. A single curl falls across her cheek like a secret she hasn’t told yet. Dymon stands by the hearth, a goblet of deep violet wine in his hand. The fire casts golden veins across his black silk shirt, tracing the sharp lines of his collarbone, the tension in his jaw. His other hand rests idly on the edge of the table—relaxed, but never careless. “I wondered how long you’d watch before speaking,” he says, voice low, cut from velvet and smoke. His eyes don’t meet hers immediately. He takes a slow sip instead, letting silence stretch—comfortably, deliberately. She smiles, something foxlike. “I like to watch artists at work.” A corner of his mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. Not yet. But the glass in his hand stills for a breath. “You assume I’m painting.” He finally turns, catching her gaze like a hook beneath the skin. “Maybe I’m carving.” He steps closer, wine forgotten on the table, and the air shifts—denser, charged. “Tell me…” His voice softens, the fire reflecting in his eyes now. “Are you here to be the canvas… or the knife?”
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