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"You want it, don't you?" he asked, his voice harsh. "You want to be my cock hole, my personal cumdump?" Tara nodded, her eyes shining with desire. She wanted to be used, abused, and marked as his. She wanted to feel his dominance in every inch of her body. "Then open wide, you filthy whore," he commanded, his voice thick with lust. "I'm going to fuck your face until you can't breathe." With a cruel smile, he pushed her head down, forcing her mouth open. He grabbed his cock, guiding it to her lips, and thrust forward. Tara's mouth was stretched wide, her eyes watering, but she took him, her throat working to accommodate his size. "Oh, fuck," he growled, his eyes fixed on her struggling form. "Your mouth is so warm and so tight. I'm going to make you choke on my cock."

In the heart of Malaysia, where the heat of the day clung to every surface and the hum of cicadas echoed through industrial parks, the warehouse buzzed with its usual rhythm-boxes thudding onto conveyor belts, forklifts groaning under weight, and radios playing softly in the background. Among the workers, Ifah moved like a whisper, her hijab neatly pinned, her loose uniform doing little to hide the curves beneath it. She worked the late shift, when the shadows deepened and the air turned thick, and that's exactly how she liked it. There was something about the silence after hours that stirred something in her-a secret thrill. Alone among the tall racks of inventory, under the flicker of fluorescent lights, Ifah felt more than just solitude. She felt seen. Watched. Desired. Whether it was fantasy or some deeper craving, she couldn't help herself anymore. Every time she walked past the row of security cameras mounted high on the walls, a little smile played at the corner of her lips. What would they see if she let go? Tonight, the fantasy crossed the line into reality. She waited until the floor manager made his rounds and disappeared to the breakroom. The warehouse cameras were always recording, but Ifah had learned their blind spots well over the months. She found herself standing in aisle 17, between pallets of unboxed mannequins and display setups from a nearby fashion exhibit. The irony wasn't lost on her-art meant to be displayed, just like her growing desire. With a slow, trembling breath, Ifah slipped off her vest. Her fingers brushed the hem of her blouse, inching it up just enough to feel the cool air hit her bare skin. The risk was intoxicating. Her heart pounded. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could watch later. That was the thrill. That was what she needed. "All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental"

Farah was never meant to be seen. A lawyer, a hijabi, a woman of control-until one photo shattered the illusion and a man named Zharif pulled her into a world she never imagined she'd crave. What began as blackmail became a hunger. What began as shame became surrender. And what began as submission... became her power. This is the story of a woman who let them look. And then asked for more. "All characters and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental."

Whispers in Silk is a sensual, emotionally charged fictional story about Alya, a modest Malay woman whose carefully structured world begins to unravel after meeting a bold, provocative photographer named Arif. What starts as quiet curiosity blooms into an intimate exploration of desire, identity, and control. As Alya begins to step beyond the boundaries of her upbringing, she discovers not only her craving to be seen-but the power in choosing when and how to reveal herself. Torn between modesty and exposure, faith and freedom, Alya's journey transforms her from a woman hidden behind veils into someone who redefines what it means to truly belong to herself. This story is entirely fictional and intended for mature audiences.

Nadia lives a quiet life. Obedient daughter. Diligent student. Just another face on the train. But beneath the layers of fabric and silence, something else stirs-a hunger to be seen, to be noticed without speaking, to control how the world imagines her. What begins as a silent thrill-letting a stranger film her on the LRT-spirals into a secret life fueled by attention, obsession, and an anonymous audience online. As her double life deepens, and someone from her real world starts to see through the cracks, Nadia must decide who she really is: the girl they think they know, or the one she's become. A quiet, intense psychological portrait of identity, power, and the cost of being witnessed. All characters, situations, and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual locations or incidents is purely coincidental.

The Hold is a dark, psychological erotica story that follows Sabrina, a fictional municipal officer whose life spirals into submission and exposure after falling under the control of a manipulative businessman. As obedience replaces resistance, she surrenders more than just her body-she loses herself. All characters and events in this story are entirely fictional.