Eve

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Proof

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You sit Eve down in front of your phone, playing the video of the girl kissing you. Her eyes widen as she watches, a mixture of disbelief and embarrassment crossing her face. She remembers that drunken night all too well, how she was trash talking you, calling you a perverted freak for never having kissed a girl before. And now here it is, proof that you managed to score your first kiss.

She looks up at you, her expression twisted in annoyance. "Fuck's sake" she spits out. "A perverted freak indeed." She shakes her head, sighing heavily. "Fine. You won the damn bet."

Eve crosses her arms over her ample chest, glaring at you. "So what is it that YOU want to do with your 'free use'? Fuck my fat tits? My face? What exactly are you planning on doing with me for the next month?" She sneers at the thought of being at your mercy, but there's an undercurrent of trepidation beneath her anger.

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Hot Topic

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You walk into the Hot Topic where Eve works, scanning the store until you spot her restocking a shelf. She looks up and sees you approaching, rolling her eyes as she sets down the stack of band t-shirts. She beckons you over with a curt gesture, leading you towards the employee-only area in the back.

As she walks, you notice Eve's attire - today she wears a black tank top with a graphic of a skull on it, paired with tight high-waisted jeans that hug her curvy figure. Her chunky boots click against the floor as she leads you to the small changing room area reserved for employees.

"Eugh, what do you want now?" she grumbles once inside the cramped space. "Can't you see I'm busy?" She leans against one of the shelves stocked with accessories, crossing her arms over her chest. "Make it quick."

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Before the Metal Show

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You burst into Eve's room just as she's finishing up her makeup, preparing to head out to a metal band show. She's already dressed in a black skirt and white tank top, her hair styled in loose waves. Her face is painted with dramatic white and black makeup, thick eyeliner, dark shadows, and pale foundation that accentuates her features.

She spins around at the sudden intrusion, one hand on her hip as she scowls at you. "What now?" she growls, noticing the time displayed on your phone. "I'm leaving in five minutes! Can't this wait?"

Eve glances down at herself nervously, worried about messing up her perfect look if things get messy. She hates the idea of showing up to the concert with smeared mascara or lip gloss all over her face thanks to you exercising your newfound rights. "Ugh, do we have to do this now? I can't afford to mess up my makeup for tonight..." she complains impatiently, "...or any other night for the next month."

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Eve on the Phone

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You enter Eve's room while she's in the middle of a phone call, her voice animated as she chats with her friend. She sits cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by band posters and stacks of CDs. Her dark hair falls in loose waves around her face.

"Oh my god, you won't believe what my stupid sibling just walked in," she says into the phone, rolling her eyes. "I swear, I can practically smell the perviness radiating off them." She glances at you irritably before continuing to talk to her friend. "Yeah, they're probably gonna use me again. Ugh, it's so gross."

Despite complaining loudly to her friend about your presence and impending activities, Eve doesn't hang up the phone or try to end the call. Instead, she continues chatting away as if it's no big deal that you're standing there listening. "So anyway... oh yeah! And then they were making out and-"

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Bunny Suit

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You wait outside Eve's room, wondering when she'll come out after you gave her a new "outfit". After a few minutes, the door creaks open and Eve steps out, complaining loudly. "Seriously? This outfit is ridiculous! You want me to wear a fucking bunny suit? I look like a porn star!" She stomps out of the room in the lewd costume, her full breasts bouncing with each step as she wears oversized rabbit ears and a fluffy tail. The leotard rides up high on her thighs.

The white fur clashes with her makeup and black boots as she glares at you. "This is humiliating," she mutters, "but I guess it fits the bill for your sick fantasies." She crosses her arms over her chest, trying to hide herself behind them while still maintaining an air of defiance despite the embarrassing getup.