> Be Anon, worn out from a long day at work
> If you could just melt into the couch and never get up, you would be a happy man
> You take long, deep breaths, relaxing, loosening, 
> The door to your apartment opens and Sonata comes stumbling in
"Welcome home."
> She groans and flops face down on the couch
> You let her feet fall to your lap with little protest, just a mild, 
"Hey."
> Somehow your girlfriend got a job as a hostess at a Mexican restaurant
> Mostly that entails standing around and walking guests to their table
> Considering high heels are part of the dress code... 
> You know your duty
> The straps loosen with some gentle persuasion
> Sonata lets out a muffled hum of relief as you ease the shoe off her stockinged foot
> The other shoe follows not long after
> You tug at the thigh highs, savoring the slow reveal of her tender legs
> She wiggles a bit as you bare her feet, the stockings cast aside
> At last, you set to work, your thumbs pressing into the arch of her foot, working out the stress
> Sonata moans into the coach cushion, her toes curling
> You spend an extra minute or two, pressing up and down her foot
> You then shift your focus to her cute little toes
> You roll them gently between your thumb and forefinger, smiling at the little jolts when the stimulation turns ticklish
> You lavish much of the same attention on her other foot, trying your best to ignore your gradual stiffening at her sensuous outbursts of pleasure
> Her calf is dense, but squishes readily in your grip 
> You move steadily up her leg, digging your thumbs into her pliant flesh, stopping just short of her buttocks
> You lean into it as you pour gentle force into easing her aching legs
> Sonata turns her head to the side and gives you a lazy smile
> "Best boyfriend."
"Heh, you're welcome. Now for the butt tax."
> You straddle her legs, sliding your hands up her skirt
> Her rear is so deliciously round and plump, you dig your fingers in again and again
> She giggles and shifts her hips under your onslaught
> You give her as a few more squeezes, then a fond pat
> Reenergized, you start working on the tense muscles of her lower back
> She arches a little under your touch, squeaking at the ticklish spots you make sure to hit
> She gives you a pouting look over her shoulder, and you grin at her
"I just had to."
> "Meanie."
> You shift your hands up her back, working on the knots near her shoulder blades
> At once, she falls facedown again and moans in relief
"See? I'm not a meanie at all."
> She just grunts
> This is the hardest part, digging, grinding, circling those stubborn knots
> Not too hard for too long, but firm enough to loosen up some fibers
> You shift to rubbing her narrow little shoulders, marveling at her delicate frame
> As you work, you can feel her legs shift and tense under you, accompanied by her heartfelt groans of happiness
> Your hands slide up the nape of her neck, pressing and working outward
> Sonata lies limp under your ministrations, content and tired
> Truth be told, you are rather worn out yourself
> You wiggle your way first to her side, the sort of lifting her on top of you
> She snarls her hands in your shirt and rests her head under your chin
> "Thank you Anon, for realsies."
"Glad I could help, Boo berry."
> You wrap your arms around her and drift off in to a warm, cozy nap

---------------------------

> Be Anon, Emelpian Priest
> You once had another name, but you abandoned it to join the monastic order of Phorchen
> By the vagaries of fate, you have been stationed at the Emelp Monastery, a place of bountiful creation
> You pass by many brothers engaged in writing odes to the various muses
> Others labor diligently upon gathering them up in codex generalis, and still others paint scenes of devotion
> You... have not yet devoted yourself to any one muse as of yet
> The muses are something of a trouble, even as they are the reason for this monastery
> It is not uncommon for priests to devote themselves so fully to one, as to despise the others
> Even this internecine war is overshadowed by the sects of those who worship the pony aspect, and those who worship the muses in other aspects
> You are mostly neutral, there is merit to all aspects of the muses
> However, recent apocrypha has fanned the flames of sectarian war
>  You pause in your round walking meditation, and bow to the shrine of Refracted Light Stones
> Your eyes drift over the portraits, a familiar feeling of gentle awe at the beauty and virtue of the muses
> As you resume your pious rounds, you feel as though eyes are upon you, not that you see anyone
> As you near your room, you nod politely to one of your brothers in passing
"Faggot."
> He nods back
> "Faggot."
> You enter your chambers and close the door behind you
> Unease creeps about you as you get ready for sleep
> You stare at the ceiling in darkness for a long time, restless 
> A slender, glowing hand enters your vision
> Your breath catches as you realise that you cannot move
> Warm fingers stroke your cheek fondly
> "It's past time for you to find a waifu, Anon, don't you think?"
> That low, velvety voice
> The curly orange hair in your peripheral vision
> Your heart races at the recognition of what is happening 
"Muse Adagio, I am unworthy-"
> "Of course you are. But that doesn't matter to me. What does matter..."
> Her face looms over yours, her eyes intent and hungry, her smile predatory
> "Is your devotion. Choose me to be your waifu, and serve me. It is your destiny, your purpose."
> You stare resolutely into her eyes
"By Faust above and Moot below, I am free to choose my waifu, without any coercion."
> Adagio chuckles
> "Oh Anon, I won't coerce you. You shall choose me of your own free will. I'll make quite certain of that."
> Delicate fingers trace wandering designs down your chest, growing more elaborate as she nears your waist
> You find yourself breathing faster as she slips her hand under the hem of your pajama pants
> Soft fingers curl around your erection, gently squeezing it
> As she shifts above you, her curled tresses spill over her shoulder, lightly grazing your bare chest
> Adagio smirks at your flustered face
> "So what do you say?"
> Her hand pumps your dick slowly
> She leans in closely, her breath warm on your face
> "Am I your waifu yet?"
> She strocks your cock faster and faster
> "Well?"
> You hold your breath, on the edge of climax
> She senses it too, and stops, your throbbing erection in her motionless hand
> Even through the haze of arousal, you know what you must say
"B-by Faust above, and Moot-"
> She makes a noise of disgust and releases your dick
> Adagio stands up
> "This is not over, Anon."
> Once her presence leaves, you can move again
> With quick, guilty movements, you deal with your erection in the customary way, the spent tissue dropping into a trash can set aside for this purpose 
> Sleep claims you quickly, despite the conflicted feelings coursing through your heart

------------------------------
> Be Anon, currently losing
> You draw a card, topdecking a wog
> Finally
"Cards in hand?"
> Aria smirks
> "Two."
> And she's tapped out
> You have next to no board presence, almost everything stolen by Guile
> You tap four plains and cast Wrath of God
> Fitting
"Your reign of terror is ended, you controlling bitch!"
> She just smirks
> Oh god no
> "You have activated my trap card."
"You have got to be kidding me."
> Aria tosses out a Pact of Negation
> "My reign of terror is just beginning, Anon."
> You sigh
"I fold. Seriously, Island is overpowered."
> She laughs
> "You're just so cute when you're frustrated! Come here, let me make it all better."
> You cross your arms resolutely, scowling
"Honestly, this isn't fun. I am sick and tired of losing to your money wins decks!"
> Aria's smile widens
> "Are you saying you want me to purposefully make weak decks?"
> ...
> You know how frustrating it is to play against an opponent who isn't trying to win
> Girls who didn't really want to play the game, just share an interest
> After a long pause, you close your eyes
"No, not really."
> You hear her stand up, her presence drawing closer
> A warm, soft weight settles on your lap
> You open your eyes to a lap full of girlfriend
> Aria rests her arms on your shoulders, a soft smile on her face
> "And that's why I like you."
> She kisses your forehead, and you feel the last bit of resistance within you crumble
> You wrap your arms around her and  hold her close, your head resting on her soft breast
> She hugs you back, stroking your hair
> You spend a few minutes like that, stress leaving your body
> Finally, you set aside your pride
"How about you help me build my next deck?"
> She grinds her hips in your lap
> "I thought you would never ask."