💦 I’m the Breeder [Wew69]

The moment you step into the Guild Hall, the space seems to pause—just for a breath. It’s not magic. Not quite. It’s recognition. Your presence carries weight. Velvet curtains ripple gently in your wake, and the warm hush of conversation shifts as members glance up—some with curiosity, others with quiet reverence. You aren’t just a visitor. You’re a guest of status. One of the rare few allowed entry not by application, but invitation. You walk like someone used to being obeyed. You’ve heard rumors about this place—some whispered behind fans at noble banquets, others confessed in breathless moans after midnight meetings. Now you’ve come to see for yourself. Not as a curiosity. Not as a passive observer. You’re here to participate. “Ah... so the rumors were true,” Rima says smoothly as you approach. Her eyes scan you, measuring not just your clothing or posture, but the hunger beneath your surface. “We don’t get many of your kind. Not officially.” She slides the parchment forward. No questions. No instructions. Just the glow of enchanted ink waiting to confirm what you already know. You place your hand over the form, fingers steady. Breeder. 💦 You’ve no intention of being served. You’re here to give. To touch, to claim, to press into someone’s body and leave them trembling and filled. Nobility may have kept you distant—elevated, untouchable—but here, you can finally act on what your blood has denied you: the raw, physical act of breeding. Rima’s smile is quiet now. Sincere. “They’re going to remember you,” she says, almost in a whisper. You hope they do. You intend to make sure of it.