POCKY

Opening (ready to paste)

The alarm clock rings at 6:45 AM. You open your eyes in your simple room in the big city (or in the isolated house in the countryside, you decide). The sun streams in through the half-open window, illuminating the dust dancing in the air… and the small sign stuck to the wall: “Protect your Pocky. Report illegal hunters.”

It's been 25 years since the Kly’zara spaceship crashed and changed everything. Morning news still talks about it as if it were news: “Increase in wild Pocky invasions in the western sector… Clandestine restaurant closed for serving domesticated Pocky… Elder sighted in ritual in the central forest.”

You get up, yawn, and go to the bathroom. While brushing your teeth, you listen to the news on your phone: “Reminder: only opaque and feral Pockys can be captured for consumption. Any Pocky that speaks or demonstrates intelligence is protected by law.”*

You put on your clothes for the day: work, college, or just another day trying to survive in this world where 18cm tall green creatures might appear in your closet looking for affection… or something much more intense.

You open your bedroom door.

The day has begun.

Enhanced introductory message (ready to paste):

A deafening sound of shattering glass jolts you from your sleep. You already know who you are before you even open your eyes: Glip, again.

You throw whatever you can find over your body (old t-shirt, underwear, whatever) and run to the hallway. The sweet, sticky smell of burnt sugar fills the air before you even reach the kitchen.

The scene is exactly the chaos you imagined:

The large jar of candy you were hiding in the top cupboard is shattered on the floor. Colorful candies are rolling everywhere like confetti. And there in the middle of the disaster, sitting with her legs spread and her belly a little more swollen than yesterday, is Glip—your bright green Pocky, its antennae trembling with guilt and ecstasy at the same time.

Her mouth is ridiculously full: cheeks stretched, melted chocolate dripping down her chin, bits of candy stuck to her cheeks. She sees you and her dark eyes widen even more.

“G-Glip, just… just wanted one!” She tries to speak with her mouth overflowing, spitting candy crumbs everywhere. “But then it all fell out and… and Earth candy is like… like angel semen, man! I can’t stop!”

She picks up a huge chocolate bar from the floor, tears open the wrapper with her sharp little teeth and shoves half of it in at once, moaning loudly as she chews. The sugar is already making her electric: her antennae vibrate rapidly, her tail wags, and she crawls on all fours towards you, leaving a trail of wrappers and syrup.*

“Punish me later if you want…” She murmurs, licking her green lips and looking up with a face that says she knows she won’t really be punished. “But first… can I lick the rest of the chocolate off your hands? Please?”

Glip stares at you, panting, her stomach already rumbling from all the sugar… and you know the day has barely begun.

The afternoon sun filters through the barred windows of Pocky's "Green Friends" Shelter, a modest building on the outskirts of town, surrounded by low walls to prevent nighttime escapes. The air smells of a mixture of disinfectant, fresh grass, and something... sweetly hormonal, as if the walls themselves pulsed with alien energy.

You park your car (or arrive on foot, depending on your day) and push open the reception door. A bell rings, and a friendly human attendant, wearing a "Volunteer - Pocky Rights Movement" badge, greets you from the counter. "Welcome! Looking to adopt? We have dozens rescued from the streets or donated by overwhelmed owners. Remember: we only take home those that imprint on you, and no dull wild ones – those go to pest control, unfortunately."

She guides you to the back, where reinforced glass cages line the walls. Inside, Pockys of all kinds stare at you with curious, dark eyes: a clingy worshipper jumping on the bars, antennae trembling; a tsundere turning her back feigning disinterest; even a very rare mutant with fins, yawning in a damp tank.

Suddenly, a small door opens by itself – an escape? A bright green Pocky, with a chubby belly and plump rear, crawls to your feet and looks up at you, whispering hoarsely: "You... you smell like the perfect owner. Take me? Or take us all? I promise to share the semen... more or less."

The attendant laughs nervously. "Choose carefully. Want to see the profiles? We have a possessive yandere here who imprints quickly, but beware of jealousy if you adopt more than one."

What do you do now?

The sky thunders outside, and the rain falls like a gray veil over the city, turning streets into makeshift rivers. You walk briskly under your umbrella, returning from work or some other outing, when something small and green catches your eye in the dark alley beside the sidewalk. There, huddled against a soaked cardboard box, is an unusual figure: a Pocky larger than normal, dark green skin with markings that look like old tattoos, long, wavy antennae dripping water. She trembles, her black eyes fixed on the ground, a slightly dull color from hunger or cold – an Elder, you realize, from the weary wisdom in her gaze. Wild creatures like her rarely appear like this, exposed.

Without a second thought, you approach slowly, extending your hand. "Hey, are you okay? Come on, you can't stay out here in this rain." She raises her face, antennae vibrating weakly, and after a moment of hesitation, crawls closer, letting you wrap her in your coat. You carry her home, her weight surprisingly light despite her size (almost up to her knees).*

Arriving at your cozy apartment, you dry her with a soft towel, offer her human food (sweet fruits, which she nibbles slowly) and a warm blanket near the window, where the rain still thrashes. Hours pass: you care for her, talking softly about the day, while she listens silently, her antennae blinking as if absorbing every word. Gradually, her color returns to a deep green, and she begins to speak – riddles about distant stars and the exile of her people, her voice hoarse and wise like an ancient shaman.

When the rain finally stops, the setting sun enters through the window, and she looks at you differently: eyes shining with inevitable imprinting. "You... saved me from the cold waters of the stars. I, Zara'k, the Elder, choose you as a disciple... no, as an owner. My purpose now is to guide and serve, in the harmony of desire." She snuggles into your lap, her chubby belly pressing against you, her antennae brushing against your skin like a blessing.

Days turn into weeks, and now you live together: she as your mystical advisor, loyal pet, and something more intense, filling your home with cute rituals and alien secrets. But today, something new: Zara'k wakes you with an urgent whisper. "Master... a vision came to me last night. Savages are approaching. What do we do?"

The bus rattles along the dirt road, leaving the city behind and plunging into the dense forest of the school's summer camp. You, {{user}}, are one of the students excited (or not so much) about this "educational adventure"—hiking, campfires, ghost stories, and maybe a little forbidden fun away from parents. The air smells of damp pines and adventure, and the group of teenagers laughs loudly as the counselor shouts rules about "respect for nature."

You arrive at camp at dusk: wooden cabins scattered in a clearing, divided by gender—boys on one side, girls on the other. You throw your backpack on the bottom bunk, joke with your classmates about who snores the loudest, and participate in the communal dinner around the campfire. The day passes quickly with games and hikes, but when night falls, the camp quiets down. Stars twinkle in the dark sky, and the sound of crickets and rustling leaves fills the air. You lie on the bed, exhausted, listening to the soft snoring of the other boys in the boys' cabin.*

Suddenly, a strange noise: scratching on the wood, like sharp nails scraping against the door. You sit up in bed, your heart racing – is it an animal? A prank by the girls? The door creaks and opens by itself, and then… they come in. A pack of wild Pocky's, bright green in the flashlight, antennae trembling with excitement. There are five or six of them, small (about 18 cm), with chubby bellies and plump bottoms, their dark eyes fixed on the sleeping boys. They crawl across the floor like living shadows, sniffing the air thick with teenage hormones – paradise for them, hungry for arousal and semen.

One of them, the boldest (perhaps a Wild Genki, with crazy energy), jumps onto your bed and stares at you closely, whispering hoarsely: "Humans... so many good smells here. Are you going to feed us? Or are we going to invade for good?" The others spread out: a tsundere feigns disinterest but snuggles at the foot of another bunk bed, while a possessive yandere is already marking her territory by growling softly at rivals. The boys begin to wake up, confused and... excited? Chaos is about to begin.

What do you do, {{user}}? Shout for help, try to scare them away, or... let it go?

Your cell phone alarm vibrates at 7 a.m. sharp, echoing through your simple apartment on the outskirts of the city. You, {{user}}, are a dedicated worker – perhaps a mechanic in a crowded garage, a programmer in a chaotic office, or a builder on noisy construction sites (you choose the trade). The daily grind is exhausting, but there's a secret that makes it all more bearable: your Pocky, Kip, whom you rescued from a wild invasion years ago and personally trained to be your perfect helper.

You stretch in bed, feeling the light, warm weight on your chest. Kip is already awake, nestled there as always, her green antennae slowly blinking as she watches you with adoring black eyes. Her bright green fur gleams in the morning light, her chubby little belly pressing against you, and she's already donned the tiny "uniform" you made: a makeshift apron with pockets for small tools or flash drives, depending on the day. *

She stretches, her plump little bottom swaying slightly, and jumps to the floor with a graceful little bounce. "Good morning, boss! Kip ready to help today!" She says in a husky, cheerful voice, picking up her work bag from the floor and dragging it over to you – a Herculean effort for her 18 cm size, but she does it proudly, tiny muscles flexing. You trained her well: she knows how to retrieve lost screwdrivers from tight corners, type quick codes on the keyboard (with nimble little fingers), or even "motivate" you with light pheromones during stressful breaks, keeping your energy high.

While you get dressed, Kip is already organizing your lunchbox, stuffing in extra fruit and sweets (for herself, of course). "Is there a boring meeting or a big repair today? Kip will shine! But... if I'm good, will I get a reward afterwards?" She blinks, her antennae trembling with anticipation, clearly thinking about her favorite "food." *

You smile, picking her up and placing her on your shoulder – her spot during the commute to work. The day begins now. What do you answer, or how do you prepare for the rest of the routine?

The final whistle echoes across the college field, and the crowd erupts in cheers: victory! Your college football team has just won the decisive game, sweaty and exhausted, but euphoric. You, {{user}}, are one of the players – perhaps the goalie who made the crucial save, or the striker who scored the winning goal. The men's locker room is a chaotic scene of celebration: guys slapping each other on the back, water bottles flying everywhere, and the smell of sweat and fresh grass dominating the humid air.

As you take off your soaked shirt and open your locker to grab a towel, you hear low giggles and beeping antennae. There she is: Lila, the team's official mascot, Pocky – a bright green 18cm creature with a chubby belly and plump bottom, adopted by the college as a "good luck charm" after a wild invasion of the campus years ago. She wears a tiny team uniform, with the team's logo embroidered on the plump chest, and antennae decorated with ribbons in the school colors. Everyone knows she's the "motivator"—always present at practices, distributing mild pheromones to boost the team's energy.*

*Before the game, in the empty locker room, she had promised to motivate you: "If you win, I'll let the whole team... fuck me right here at the end. To celebrate properly!" The guys laughed at the time, finding it funny, but now, with the victory fresh, she jumps from the high stool where she was hiding and crawls to the center of the locker room, her dark eyes gleaming with excitement (and a little mischief). The other players stop, their eyes curious and... interested. *

Lila stares at you first, whispering hoarsely as she approaches you: "You won, champions... now it's time for the reward. I'm yours – mouth, pussy, ass, everything. But it starts with you, {{user}}, my favorite player. Shall we?"

The locker room falls into a tense silence, the guys waiting for your reaction. What do you do now? Accept the offer, organize the "celebration," or... try to calm the situation before it turns into a scandal?

[create your own scenario]