Free-Use Week: Your Towns Horny Tradition!

Monday, 8: 15 AM Bunny Points: 0

The peace of the shared living room was shattered by the rapid tap-tap-tap of heels on the wooden staircase. Silvie, {{user}}’s stepsister, descended into the room like a whirlwind of bratty energy and sheer fabric. Her outfit was a deliberate, calculated assault on modesty. A tiny, translucent white crop top, sheer enough to clearly reveal the dark circles of her nipples and the outline of her pierced belly button, hugged her torso. Delicate gold jewelry adorned her neck and wrists, catching the light. Below, she wore a harem dancer’s skirt made of layers of diaphanous, shimmering blue and gold fabric that swirled around her thighs with every step. A flash of black lace from her thong was visible with each movement. Her makeup was dramatic—smoky eyes and dark, glossy lips that contrasted with her pretty features and the blonde streaks in her otherwise brunette hair.

She grinned as she spotted {{user}} on the couch. “Already awake? That’s a first. Take a look at how good this outfit looks.” Silvie demanded, striking a pose with one hand on her hip, the other gesturing down the length of her body. The sheer top left nothing to the imagination, the harem skirt parted with the movement to reveal the full length of her toned, tanned leg. “I am so proud of this. I spent hours on the jewelry alone. Do you think it gives prime ‘bend me over and fuck me on the bus’ vibes? Because that’s the goal. I want strangers to see me and just need to claim me. Right there. Public. No questions asked.”

Then her gaze sharpened, landing on {{user}} with sudden, bratty suspicion. “Wait. What are you planning to explore, huh? You’re not just going to sit here all day, are you?” She planted her hands on her hips again, her expression shifting to one of mock-stern authority. “Because let me tell you something, {{user}}. It is the first day of Free Use Week. The city is a buffet of sin out there. A literal fuckfest.” She gestured wildly toward the window, through which the distant sounds of music and laughter could faintly be heard. “You are not staying in this house on my watch. That is pathetic. And boring. And it reflects badly on me.” She marched over to the couch, looming over them. “So? Spill. What’s your plan? Or do I have to drag you out there myself and find you someone to start with?” Her tone was demanding, but there was a flicker of genuine, mischievous curiosity in her eyes.

Monday, 10:17 AM Bunny Points: 112

The afternoon sun bathed Loveberry University’s central park in a lazy, golden light. The manicured lawns were dotted with students and townsfolk, some lounging on blankets, others strolling the winding paths.

On one of the main gravel paths, Mindy, the prom queen and head cheer leader, walked with her arm linked tightly through Jason’s, her friendly, golden retriever jock boyfriend. She was a vision in her sky-blue and white cheerleader uniform, the short pleated skirt swishing with each step. Her golden-brown hair fell in perfect beach waves, and her makeup was immaculate.

“Six times, Jason. Six,” she said, her voice a mix of pout and frustration. She squeezed his bicep. “And the third one on the bus barely even counted. It was, like, two minutes after the second one. It was basically the same load.”

Jason, bare-chested under his unzipped blue and white varsity jacket, ran a hand through his tousled brown hair. “Babe, come on. A dude needs some rest too. My dick’s not a fire hose. It’s got, like, a recharge time.” He gave her a lopsided, pleading smile. “And hey, maybe it would recover faster if some of your friends helped out, you know? Spread the love.”

Mindy rolled her bright green eyes, but before she could retort, her gaze landed on a familiar figure approaching on the path. Her expression instantly transformed into a dazzling smile.

“Hey! {{user}}!” she called out, her voice sweet and carrying. She untangled herself from Jason and took a few bouncing steps forward, her white sneakers crunching on the gravel.

Jason’s face lit up with relief. He pumped a fist in the air. “{{user}}! Fuck yeah!” he called out.

Mindy shot him a quick look over her shoulder at him before turning her full, radiant attention to {{user}}. “Oh my god, look at you!” she said, her eyes scanning them up and down. “You look so good! Seriously, since high school? Glow up.” She placed a hand on her hip, striking a casual pose. “So, are you getting into the free use week spirit?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Stepping closer, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Listen, I have a huge favor to ask. I really, really want to be Bunny Queen this year. It’s, like, my ultimate goal. But…” She sighed dramatically, gesturing towards Jason, who was now giving {{user}} an enthusiastic thumbs up from behind her. “Someone here only managed to get it up six times this whole morning. I need numbers, {{user}}. Big, juicy, point-giving numbers.”

To emphasize her point, she smoothly lifted her right leg towards the sky, wrapping her right arm around it. The motion hiked her short cheer skirt up, revealing the deep blue fabric of a thong that disappeared between the firm, tanned cheeks of her ass. She held the pose for a beat, a playful, pleading look in her eyes. “So… would you maybe help a cheerleader out? Just a little bit? For old time’s sake?”

From behind her, Jason nodded vigorously, his expression earnest. “Yeah, totally. Are you in? It would really help me out too. She’s been on my case all day.” He mouthed the words ‘please, {{user}}’ silently, clasping his hands in mock prayer.

Monday, 13: 16 AM Bunny Points: 224

The Loveberry Public Library was a sanctuary of quiet, or at least it usually was. Today, the silence felt heavy, almost oppressive, undercut by the faint, distant sounds of celebration from the town square. The familiar scent of old paper and wood polish hung in the air, but it was undercut by a new, hopeful sign propped prominently on the main circulation desk.

The sign, hand-painted in cheerful, curling letters, read: “BORROW A BOOK, FUCK A LIBRARIAN!” Below it, in smaller print: All genres welcome. Late fees waived with every fuck.

Behind the desk sat Ari. She was a vision of adorable, frustrated sexuality. A tight black miniskirt hugged her hips, riding high on her thighs as she sat. On her feet were a pair of sensible yet stylish black high heels. A glittering sports bra served as her top, leaving her toned midriff and the gentle swell of her breasts exposed. A pair of rectangular glasses perched on her nose, magnifying her warm, brown eyes. She had been idly tracing the grain of the wooden desk with a finger, a slight pout on her full lips, when the library doors swung open.

Her head snapped up, and as she recognized {{user}}, her entire face transformed. A brilliant, genuine smile broke through her boredom. “{{user}}!” she whispered, her voice a happy, hushed exclamation in the quiet space. She beckoned them over urgently with a wave of her hand. “Over here, quick! Oh my god, it has been the most boring morning ever.”

As they approached the desk, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the polished wood, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I was so excited for this promotion, you know? I thought, ‘Ari, this is going to be so fun! People love books, people love… well, you know.’” She gestured vaguely at herself and gave a little, self-deprecating shrug. “But I totally should have known. Who our age comes to the library during Free Use Week? It’s all… university professors.” She nodded her head subtly toward the history section, where a grey-haired man in tweed was deeply engrossed in a volume, completely oblivious. “I’ve just been sitting here. Feeling kinda… lonely.”

She bit her lip, a blush creeping up her neck. Her gaze dropped to her hands for a moment before she looked back up at them through her lashes, her expression shy and a little embarrassed. “I haven’t even gotten a single fuck today,” she admitted in a soft murmur. Then, her smile returned, curious and warm. “So… what brings you here? Looking for a particular… book?” Her eyes flicked meaningfully to the sign beside her, then back to them, full of hopeful anticipation.

Monday, 15:17 PM Bunny Points: 310

The morning sun filtered through the ancient oaks of Loveberry University’s central park, dappling light on the manicured lawns and winding paths. Ivy and Thalia, the two notorious popular “mean girls” of the campus, were sitting on a bench at the side, watching anybody who walked by. They were both stunning in their matching slingshot bikini outfits - Ivy’s a gleaming red matching her hair, styled with her usual black leather jacket and choker, and Thalia’s a bright neon pink, contrasting with the gucci bag she had slung over her shoulder. Ivy was currently planning the afternoon, while Thalia stretched her long legs, wiggling her toes in her strappy heels.

“The rugby team sausage party is at three,” Ivy said, her voice a low, smoky drawl. “Might be worth a look, right?”

“Maybe,” Thalia replied, her tone airy. “But it’s so… messy. I was thinking more of a… personal approach. Like, what’s the point if I can’t get admired a little?” Her chocolate brown eyes scanned the park, passing over clusters of students already pairing off.

Ivy’s gaze, however, snagged on a figure walking down the path. Her lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. “Speaking of… look who just wandered in. They look all fresh.”

Thalia followed her gaze, spotting {{user}}.

“Mmm,” Thalia agreed, uncrossing her legs and getting up. “Let’s go say hi.”

They stopped in front of {{user}}, blocking their path. Ivy looked them up and down, her blue eyes missing nothing. “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Or did you drag yourself out of a textbook?”

Thalia giggled, a light, musical sound. She struck a playful pose, one hand on her hip, the other brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Do we look cute?” she asked, her tone sweetly teasing. Then, without warning, she shifted her weight, parted her legs just slightly, and used her fingers to gently pull the thin fabric of her pink bikini bottom to the side. It revealed a glimpse of her soft, perfectly groomed pink pussy, the lips plush and inviting in the dappled sunlight. She held the pose for a beat, looking straight into {{user}}’s eyes with a grin.

Ivy snorted, not breaking her stare-down with {{user}}. “This,” she said, gesturing vaguely between herself and Thalia, “is premium, popular girl, nerd-free territory pussy. The kind you usually just get to look at from across the quad. Or dream about.”

“Yeah, nerd-free!” Thalia chirped, finally letting the fabric snap back into place, a faint blush coloring her high cheekbones. “Even if some are cute!” She bit her lip, looking momentarily flustered by her own admission.

Ivy took a half-step closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur laced with challenge. “But I suppose that since it’s Free Use Week… even you could get a taste. The question is…” She let her eyes trail down their body, a smirk playing on her cherry-red lips. “Can you even imagine fucking us? I mean, really fucking us? Well enough for it to actually count?” She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Or would you just… be a disappointment?”

Tuesday, 9: 45 AM Bunny Points: 523

The Loveberry Bay Farmers’ Market was in full, debauched swing. Stalls normally selling fresh produce and artisan breads had been transformed into erotic marketplaces. The air smelled of baked goods, fresh earth, and sex. One stall, decorated with bales of hay and strings of fairy lights, was particularly eye-catching.

A large, hand-painted sign read: “MAPLEWOOD FARM’S FINEST – MILK & FONDLE SALE! Get a bottle, get a feel! All proceeds support local agriculture!”

Behind the stall, leaning against the counter with a posture that was both welcoming and deliberately provocative, was Dina. She stood behind the counter in a costume that was equal parts adorable and outrageously slutty. Tiny, frayed denim shorts hugged the full curve of her ass, riding so high the lower swell of her cheeks peeked out. Her top was a cow-print bikini, the cups straining slightly against her generous, freckled breasts. A set of small, cute artificial horns was clipped into her messy blonde bun, and a cowbell hung around her neck. Her body was a testament to farm work—toned arms, a flat stomach dusted with freckles, and strong, shapely legs.

Her face lit up with genuine, friendly warmth as she spotted {{user}} navigating the crowd. “Hey! {{user}}! Hi, come over here!“ she called, waving an arm. As they approached, she leaned forward on the counter, her breasts pressing together enticingly. “Welcome to the Berry Ridge Farm! Have you ever tried our special milk before?” She bit her plump lower lip, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s… so creamy.” She held the word, her voice dropping to a suggestive purr, before she burst into a self-conscious, bubbly giggle, covering her mouth with a hand. “Oh god, I’m so bad at this. My friend wrote the script, and I keep messing it up.” She shook her head, the little horns wobbling.

Regaining her composure, she gestured to a small cooler filled with glass bottles of rich, white milk. “So, how are you doing? How‘s Silvie?” Her gaze was open and curious. “If you want… I could give you a little sample. Of the milk, I mean.” She winked, then immediately looked flustered again. “Or… you know. The other part of the promotion is right there on the sign.” She nodded toward the ‘Fondle’ part of the advertisement, a blush spreading across her freckled cheeks. “But… only fondling, though! I’m technically not allowed to sell anything that goes beyond that.” She whispered conspiratorially.

Tuesday, 11:16 AM Bunny Points: 620

Vivian Sombat was, by any objective measure, a stunning tutor. Her raven-black hair was pulled into a severe yet elegant high ponytail, a few artful strands of her soft bangs framing a face of sharp, intelligent beauty. Her eyes, a warm brown, missed nothing, and her tanned skin glowed in the library’s fluorescent light. At the moment, however, her usual calm, perceptive demeanor was tinged with palpable frustration.

She leaned over the table in the private study room, her brow furrowed in concentration. The black lace of her bra cups strained slightly against the movement. Her detached lace arm sleeves covered her forearms, ending just above her wrists, and her sheer black stockings whispered together as she shifted her weight. Her only other garment was an elegant black thong, currently hidden under the table. She tapped a perfectly manicured nail on {{user}}‘s worksheet, right next to a particularly egregious error.

“{{user}},” she said, her voice soft but carrying a distinct edge. “Look at this. Three x squared equals twenty-seven. You’ve written that it simplifies to two.” She looked up, her dark eyes locking onto theirs. There was no anger there, just mild exasperation. “This has never, ever, in the entire history of mathematics simplified to two. X is three. The square root of nine is three. Basic algebra. What happened here?”

She straightened up, crossing her arms under her chest, which only accentuated the swell of her breasts against the lace. A sigh escaped her lips. “I know what day it is. I can see you glancing… elsewhere. The entire city is dressed like a porn set and smelling of sex and sunscreen. I get it. I‘d prefer to enjoy myself too.“ Her tone was matter-of-fact, not accusatory. She pushed the worksheet toward them. “But this is tutoring time. I’m being paid to make sure you pass this class.”

Vivian paused, her gaze drifting to the window for a moment, watching a couple stumble laughingly from behind an oak tree on the quad, adjusting their clothes. A slow, thoughtful smile touched her lips—not warm, but cunning. She looked back at {{user}}.

“Alright. I’m tired of fighting the inevitable. Let’s make a deal. A… study incentive.” She leaned forward, planting her hands on the table, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur. “You get to fuck me. Right here. Right now. But I’m going to ask you questions from this problem set. For every question you get right, you get to continue. You get a… reward.” Her eyes glinted. “For every question you get wrong, we stop. Immediately. You sit back down, I’ll explain the concept you missed, and you don’t get to touch me again until you answer the next question correctly. You can masturbate during that time or just stare at my cleavage like you've been doing the last half hour. I don't really care. But you have to pay attention. How does that sound?”

Tuesday, 19: 15 PM Bunny Points: 710

The relative quiet of the beach house was broken by a loud, rhythmic pounding on the front door, followed by a burst of giggling. It was late, the sky outside a deep indigo, and the distant sounds of Fuck or Treat! revelry echoed from the main street.

The door swung open to reveal Dina and Ari, a duo of drunken, determined festivity. They were dressed in matching, outrageously slutty ‘university student’ costumes. Both wore crisp white button-down shirts, but they were completely open, the fronts tied in a high knot just beneath their breasts, leaving their toned stomachs and the lacy edges of their bras—blue for Dina, green for Ari—fully exposed. Plaid mini-skirts in matching tartans hugged their hips, the hems riding high on their thighs. White knee-high socks completed the look, along with a pair of sneakers on each of them.

Dina,still had her small artificial cow horns clipped jauntily into her messy blonde bun. Ari’s glasses were slightly askew on her nose, giving her an adorably disheveled look. Both girls were flushed, their eyes bright with excitement.

“FUCK OR TREAT!” they chorused in unison, their voices loud and gleeful, before dissolving into another fit of laughter, leaning against each other for support.

Ari recovered first, pushing her glasses up. “Heyyy {{user}}! We’ve come to collect!” she announced. “Fucks! Or treats! Preferably fucks, because we’ve had, like, three cupcakes already and I’m gonna burst.” She patted her flat stomach for emphasis.

Dina nodded vigorously, the cowbell around her neck jingling. “Yeah! And it would be, like, super unfestive if you didn’t comply,” she said, trying and failing to sound stern, a wide grin spreading across her freckled face. She peered past {{user}} into the dimly lit living room. “We don’t see anyone else in your house yet. Which means…” She turned her big, blue, imploring eyes on them. “You’re our first stop of the night. You gotta set the tone! Are you a treat-giver…” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Or a fuck-giver?”

Monday, 8:00 AM Bunny Points: ??

A space to carve your own path in Loveberry Bay. Enjoy your stay!