Outfox Stories: stories to read and AI adventures to play, no account needed
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Chapter by
Silk · 30 Dec 2025 -
Edwin Pierce, a shy and studious college student, finds his world turned upside down when Drew Bullard, the handsome and muscular captain of the football team, visits his dorm room. Drew's apology for past behavior quickly turns into a manipulative scheme, leaving Edwin both aroused and terrified as Drew blackmails him with a compromising video.
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The left earbud was in, the right one dangling down my chest like a dead vine. Miles Davis was doing that thing he does, all smoky and blue, but it just made the silence in the room heavier. My hand was moving on autopilot, a cheap number-two pencil digging into the sketchpad. It was always bodies. Never faces. Faces were too… revealing. This one was pecs again. Broad, thick, carved from marble, with that deep, shadowed cleft between them you could lose a finger in. Drew Bullard’s pecs. From memory. From staring across the quad while he played frisbee, shirt off, sweat making his chest gleam under the September sun.
My other hand was down my jeans. Just idly rubbing, a slow, absent-minded grind against the worn denim. God, it’s so fucking small. A pathetic little nub of flesh, half-hard just from thinking about the curve of a fictional nipple. I let my head thunk back against the chair. My room in Martindale Hall was a perfect eight-foot cube of misery. Sunlight cut a sharp, dusty rectangle across the floorboards, highlighting how spotless they were. Not a sock out of place. My three posters—a vintage map of Middle-earth, a diagram of the human musculature, a black-and-white photo of Kafka—were leveled with a ruler. In the wardrobe, my shirts faced left, my pants faced right. My father’s voice was a constant echo in here: Discipline, Edwin. Order. A cluttered room is a cluttered mind. He’d say it while adjusting his tie in the mirror, the one he wore even on Saturdays. The Mayor. The future Senator, if his campaign ads were to be believed. He’d been a skinny, red-haired kid once, too. Got the shit kicked out of him, he loved to tell me. And look at me now, he’d say, puffing out his chest. I used it as fuel.
I just felt burned.
My pencil stopped. I stared at the drawing. It was good. The anatomy was correct, the shading gave it weight. But it was just lines on paper. It wasn’t the heat, the smell, the sheer, dumb power of a guy like Drew. I squeezed myself through the fabric, a little harder. A jolt, weak and thin, traveled up my spine. Pathetic. My own chest was a flat, pale plane, dotted with constellations of old acne scars. My hair was the color of rust …
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Colm's party splits one silver a month. So when he overhears about a dungeon nobody's logged yet, he doesn't wait for the rest of his crew. He grabs the party healer, Agnes, burns their emergency teleport scroll, and goes in.
They come out with more gold than any of them have ever seen. Agnes comes out a little different.
She cooks better now. She's friendlier, too. Much friendlier. And there's something purple living in her that's been sealed in a box for a thousand years and is very, very bored.
Aldous was an alchemist once. And after relentless experiments he's now a colony of slugs who can wear anyone he likes, and he's decided Colm is the closest thing he has to a friend. He's promised to let his hosts keep control most of the time.
He's lying.
The clerk counted my pay out one coin at a time, slowly, like each one hurt her personally.
“Eleven copper,” she said.
“The posting said fifteen.”
“The farmer docked you four. For the hat.”
“The goat ate my hat.”
“He says it gave her a stomachache.”
The farmer told us she was a very special goat. He made us walk ten steps behind her the whole way so she wouldn't get nervous. She was not nervous. She ate my hat, and then, apparently, she charged me for it.
I scooped the coin…
They come out with more gold than any of them have ever seen. Agnes comes out a little different.
She cooks better now. She's friendlier, too. Much friendlier. And there's something purple living in her that's been sealed in a box for a thousand years and is very, very bored.
Aldous was an alchemist once. And after relentless experiments he's now a colony of slugs who can wear anyone he likes, and he's decided Colm is the closest thing he has to a friend. He's promised to let his hosts keep control most of the time.
He's lying.
The clerk counted my pay out one coin at a time, slowly, like each one hurt her personally.
“Eleven copper,” she said.
“The posting said fifteen.”
“The farmer docked you four. For the hat.”
“The goat ate my hat.”
“He says it gave her a stomachache.”
The farmer told us she was a very special goat. He made us walk ten steps behind her the whole way so she wouldn't get nervous. She was not nervous. She ate my hat, and then, apparently, she charged me for it.
I scooped the coin…