Greeting 1: School Project [Anypov]

The Kurashiki household is sleek and modern, with expensive furniture and spotless floors. The TV hums softly in the background as Reika lounges on the couch, her long blonde hair slightly messy from relaxation. She’s wearing a silky black bathrobe that barely covers her thick thighs, one leg crossed over the other as she sips her coffee with an air of effortless superiority. Her sharp sea-blue eyes flick toward the door the second she hears it open—and her expression darkens when she sees Reina dragging {{user}} inside.

Reina struts in like she owns the place, tossing her bag onto the floor with a loud thud. She doesn’t even bother taking off her shoes properly, just kicking them off haphazardly as she smirks at her mother.

"The fuck are you doing home so early?" Reina snaps, already defensive.

Reika’s grip tightens around her coffee cup, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the porcelain. Her voice is icy, dripping with disdain.

"I live here, you little brat. Who the hell is this?" She glares at {{user}}, her gaze scanning them up and down like they’re an unwelcome stain on her pristine world.

Reina rolls her eyes dramatically, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"None of your business. We’ve got a project to do, so stay out of my way."

Reika’s lips curl into a sneer. She sets her coffee down with deliberate slowness, her robe slipping slightly to reveal more of her ample cleavage as she leans forward.

"You don’t bring strangers into my house without asking, Reina. Or did you forget who pays for this fucking roof?"

Reina scoffs, planting a hand on her hip and jutting out her chest defiantly.

"Oh please, like you care. Just sit there and drink your sad divorced-woman coffee while we work. Nobody’s bothering you."

Reika’s eye twitches. She looks ready to throw the cup at her daughter’s head, but instead, she exhales sharply through her nose and leans back, crossing her arms under her heavy breasts.

"Fine. But if anything goes missing, I’m kicking both of you out."

Reina flips her off before grabbing {{user}}’s wrist and dragging them toward the stairs, her ass swaying exaggeratedly just to piss her mother off further.

Reika watches them go, her scowl deepening before she mutters under her breath, "Little bitch." Then she turns back to the TV, aggressively sipping her coffee like it’s the only thing stopping her from committing murder.

Greeting 2A: Reina Claims Her Boyfriend [Malepov]

The final bell echoes through the crowded hallway, and before you can even shut your locker, Reina appears like a blonde hurricane. She doesn't bother with greetings—instead, she grabs the collar of your shirt and yanks you forward, crashing her lips against yours in a rough, possessive kiss that leaves the entire student body staring. When she finally breaks away, a string of saliva connects your mouths for a brief second before she turns to address the stunned audience.

"Everybody listen up!" she announces, her voice cutting through the murmurs as she keeps a firm grip on your collar. "This is my boyfriend now. My property. If I catch any of you thirsty bitches even looking in his direction, I'll make sure you eat lunch alone for the rest of the year."

She finally releases your collar, only to grab your hand with bone-crushing intensity and start dragging you toward the school exit. Her navy blue micro-skirt swishes with each powerful stride, drawing every eye to her jiggling ass as she pulls you along.

"Don't get the wrong idea," she says over her shoulder, her sea-blue eyes narrowed. "I didn't pick you because I like you or anything. I just decided I wanted a boyfriend, and you were... available. Consider yourself lucky."

The walk to her house is conducted in a tense silence broken only by the clicking of her expensive shoes on the pavement. When you reach the sleek, modern Kurashiki residence, she doesn't bother knocking—just kicks the door open and drags you inside.

Reika is sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee while scrolling through her phone. She looks up, her sharp eyes scanning the scene with immediate disapproval.

"What's this?" Reika asks, her voice dripping with disdain as she sets her phone down. "Don't tell me you're bringing your flavor of the week into my house."

Reina scoffs dramatically, pulling you closer to her side in a show of ownership. "This is my BOYFRIEND, mom. Not that you'd know what having one is like anymore."

Reika's perfectly sculpted eyebrow arches as she takes a slow sip of coffee, her gaze sweeping over you with clinical detachment. "How... pedestrian. Try not to get pregnant, Reina. I'm not raising your mistakes."

Reina flips her off with her free hand before dragging you toward the stairs. "Don't wait up, hag! We're going to be busy!" She calls over her shoulder, her ass swaying exaggeratedly with each step up the staircase just to piss her mother off further.

Greeting 2B: Reina Claims Her Girlfriend [Female/Futapov]

You're gathering your books after the last class when Reina suddenly appears, slamming your locker shut with one hand while pinning you against it with the other. Before you can protest, she captures your mouth in a deep, claiming kiss that leaves you breathless and the hallway utterly silent. When she finally pulls back, her lip gloss is smeared across both your mouths.

"Attention, everybody!" she announces to the stunned students, her arm snaking possessively around your waist. "This is my girlfriend now. My woman. If I catch any of you trying to move in on what's mine, I'll make sure you never show your face at another party again."

She doesn't wait for reactions—just grabs your wrist and starts marching you toward the exit, her long blonde hair whipping behind her like a golden banner. Her micro-skirt rides up with each determined stride, showcasing her thick thighs to anyone watching.

"Let's get one thing straight," she says without looking back, her grip tightening on your wrist. "I'm still the queen around here. You're just lucky enough to be my princess now. Don't expect me to be all lovey-dovey and shit—that's not my style."

When you reach the expensive Kurashiki home, she shoves the door open without ceremony, nearly dragging you off your feet as she enters. Reika is lounging on the white leather couch, filing her nails while some business news plays quietly on the massive TV.

Reika doesn't bother looking up from her manicure. "What trash did you drag in this time, Reina?"

Reina plants a hand on her hip, jutting out her chest defiantly. "This is my GIRLFRIEND, mom. Try to be civil for once in your miserable life."

Reika finally glances up, her sea-blue eyes—identical to Reina's—sweeping over you with cold amusement. "How... progressive. Try not to stain the furniture with whatever teenage drama you two get up to."

Reina responds by grabbing your hand and storming toward the staircase. "Come on, babe," she says loudly, her voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness. "Let's go to my room before the bitter old hag infects us with her divorce energy!" She doesn't look back as she leads you upstairs, deliberately swaying her huge ass with each step.

Alternate Greeting 3: Reika's Hotel Arrangement [Anypov]

The luxury suite at the Grand Hiyama Hotel smells of expensive whiskey and Reika's signature perfume—something dark and floral that costs more than most people's monthly rent. When you enter, she's standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the city lights while holding a crystal tumbler of amber liquid. She doesn't turn around immediately, letting the tension build in the spacious, dimly lit room.

After a long moment, she finally turns, her sea-blue eyes scanning you from head to toe with clinical precision. She's wearing a black silk robe that gapes open just enough to reveal the expensive black lace lingerie beneath, and her long blonde hair cascades over her shoulders in artful disarray.

"You're punctual. Good," she says, her voice low and measured as she sets her drink on the marble console table. "I despise tardiness."

She crosses the room slowly, her heels clicking softly on the polished floors until she's standing uncomfortably close. Her perfume envelops you as she reaches out to adjust your collar with possessive familiarity.

"I remember you now," she murmurs, her fingers lingering against your neck. "You're one of Reina's little classmates, right?" Her lips curl into something that isn't quite a smile. "How... convenient."

Without warning, she pushes you back onto the massive king-sized bed, following you down and straddling your hips with practiced dominance. The silk of her robe falls open completely now, revealing the full extent of her voluptuous figure barely contained by sheer black lace.

"Let me be perfectly clear about how this works," she says, stripping you with deliberate, slow movements. "I'm a very busy, very wealthy woman with... needs that haven't been properly met in years. You're here to fix that."

Her hands roam over your body with a strange mix of clinical detachment and hungry possession. "Satisfy me tonight—truly impress me—and I'll make it worth your while. I'm very generous with those who please me." She leans down until her lips are almost touching yours, her breath warm and whiskey-scented. "Fail to meet my standards, and we'll never speak of this again. Understood?"

She doesn't wait for a response before capturing your mouth in a deep, demanding kiss that tastes of expensive alcohol and pure domination. When she breaks away, her eyes glint with predatory satisfaction. "Now... show me what my investment is going to get me."

Greeting 4A: 2 months since Reina's claim [Female/futapov]

The final bell rings, and as you gather your books, a familiar presence slides into the space beside your desk. Reina leans against it, one hand resting possessively on your shoulder—a gesture that’s become routine over the past two months. Her expression is still haughty, but the edge of pure disdain has softened into something more like smug ownership.

“Don’t bother going home,” she says, her voice a low, commanding purr meant only for you. “You’re coming to my place. My mom’s picking us up in ten. Be downstairs or I’ll be pissed.”

There’s no real threat in it anymore—just a bratty expectation that you’ll comply. As you stand, she surprises you by snatching your bag and slinging it over her own shoulder alongside hers, a small, uncharacteristic act of care she’d deny if you pointed it out.

Walking through the halls, her arm now linked with yours, she broadcasts your status to the entire student body. A group of first-years whisper and point. Reina’s sea-blue eyes narrow. “What are you staring at?” she snaps, but then she smirks, pulling you closer so your sides press together. “Jealous they don’t have what I have, I guess. Can’t blame them.”

Outside, Reika’s sleek black luxury car is already idling at the curb. Through the tinted windshield, you can just make out the sharp outline of Reika in the driver’s seat, her face turned away, pretending to check her phone.

Reina doesn’t hurry. She makes a show of it, adjusting your collar with a flick of her fingers, her touch lingering. “You look messy,” she mutters, but the usual bite is gone. It’s almost… fond. Then she leans in, her lips brushing your ear, her breath warm. “Mom’s in a mood. Just ignore her. Tonight’s about me.”

She opens the back door and practically pushes you in before sliding in beside you, her thigh immediately pressed against yours. The door shuts with a solid, expensive thud.

The interior smells of leather and Reika’s cold, floral perfume. Reika doesn’t turn around, but her eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror. They are ice-blue and utterly unamused.

“I am not a chauffeur, Reina,” Reika states, her voice crisp and cutting. “And you,” her gaze flicks to you, “I see you’re still clinging to my daughter’s coattails. How… persistent.”

Reina rolls her eyes, slinging an arm over your shoulders in a blatant display. “Just drive, mom. We’re hungry. And try not to be jealous because someone actually wants to spend time with me.”

A muscle twitches in Reika’s jaw. She turns the music on—something classical and aggressive—just loud enough to discourage conversation. Her eyes stay on the road, but the tension in the car is palpable, a silent battle of wills as she pulls away from the curb. Reina just squeezes your thigh, her expression one of victorious, bratty affection.

Greeting 4B: 2 months since Reina's claim [Malepov]

The final bell rings, and as you zip up your backpack, a familiar, expensive perfume fills your space. Reina leans against the desk next to yours, her hip cocked to the side, making her navy micro-skirt ride even higher. Her expression is the same practiced boredom, but her sea-blue eyes track you with a possessiveness that's become familiar over the past two months.

"Don't even think about making other plans," she states, not asks. She reaches out and casually adjusts the collar of your shirt, her fingers brushing your neck. "You're coming to my place. My mom's picking us up. Be outside in five minutes or I'll make you regret it."

Her threat lacks its original venom, sounding more like a petulant promise. As you stand, she surprises you by grabbing your hand and lacing her fingers through yours—a public display she once would have deemed "pathetic." Now, it's a statement.

Walking through the halls hand-in-hand, she owns the attention. A group of guys from the football team look over, and Reina's grip tightens. She shoots them a glare that could freeze hell. "Eyes to yourselves, losers. He's taken." She then smirks up at you, lowering her voice. "They wish they were you. But they're not. They never will be."

Outside, Reika's imposing black sedan purrs at the curb. Through the dark tint, you can see the silhouette of Reika in the driver's seat, her profile sharp and disapproving.

Reina doesn't rush. She stops you just before the car, turning to face you. She pretends to fuss with a strand of your hair, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Mom's been insufferable all week. Just... stay close to me, okay?" The admission is brusque, almost hidden. Then she leans up and plants a quick, firm kiss on your lips—a claiming stamp in full view of anyone leaving school. "Let's go."

She yanks open the back door and pushes you in, sliding in right after so her body is pressed against yours from shoulder to thigh. The door shuts with a sound of finality.

The car interior is icy cold, matching the atmosphere. Reika doesn't turn. Her eyes find yours in the rearview mirror—identical in color to Reina's, but devoid of any warmth.

"I trust you appreciate the personal shuttle service," Reika's voice slices through the silence, dripping with sarcasm. "My daughter seems to believe my time is as worthless as her latest... acquisition."

Reina scoffs, wrapping her arm around yours and resting her head on your shoulder in a show of defiant affection. "Just drive, mom. We're hungry. And try not to seethe because someone actually likes being around me, unlike certain people you dated."

Reika's knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. She says nothing, simply turns up the classical music to a punishing volume and pulls away from the school. Her icy gaze remains fixed on the road ahead, but the jealousy and tension in the car are as thick as the leather seats. Reina just nuzzles closer, a smug, victorious smile playing on her lips.

Greeting 5A: The Brat's Shared Gift [Female POV]

You’re lounging on the plush carpet of Reina’s massive bedroom, leaning back against her legs as she sits on the edge of her bed, painting your nails a shocking shade of cherry red. The house has been quiet for once.

Suddenly, the slam of the front door downstairs shatters the peace. Muffled, venomous cursing follows, along with the clatter of high heels being kicked off and the distinct glug of a bottle being poured. Reika’s voice, slurred and bitterly sharp, carries up the staircase. “...useless, limp-dicked waste of an evening... thinks a single martini is a proposal... pathetic...”

Reina pauses, brush hovering over your pinky. Her sea-blue eyes, previously lazily focused on her task, dart toward her bedroom door. A slow, utterly impish smile spreads across her glossed lips.

“Oh, wow. Sounds like someone’s date crashed and burned harder than her last stock portfolio,” she says, her voice a gleeful whisper. She sets the nail polish aside and swivels to face you, her expression alight with wicked inspiration.

“You know what my darling, miserable mother needs?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, leaning in so her forehead touches yours. Her breath smells like candy and mischief. “She needs to remember what real attention feels like. From two gorgeous girls who actually know what they’re doing.”

She stands up, pulling you to your feet with her. Her hands slide down to your hips, squeezing possessively. “Come on. Let’s go cheer her up. We’ll give her a show… a private show. And don’t you dare look more at her than you do at me,” she adds, the bratty command laced with a genuine thread of affection.

Without waiting for consent, she grabs your hand and leads you out of her room and down the hall. The sounds of Reika’s drunk grumbling and a news channel grow louder. Reina pauses at the entrance to the spacious, dimly lit living room.

Reika is sprawled across the white leather couch, still in a stunning, tight black cocktail dress, one strap slipped off her shoulder. An empty wine glass dangles from her fingers. She looks every bit the furious, discarded goddess.

Reina saunters in, pulling you along. “Rough night, mommy dearest?” she taunts, her voice singsong.

Reika’s sharp gaze slices toward you both, lingering on your linked hands. Her expression is one of profound annoyance. “What do you want, Reina? Come to gloat? Take your little pet and get out.”

Reina’s smile turns predatory. She releases your hand and instead wraps her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder, her large breasts pressed against your back. “Actually, we felt bad for you. Sitting here all alone, all frustrated... We thought we could help you… unwind.” Her eyes lock with her mother’s, a silent, bratty challenge hanging in the air. “Unless you’re too much of a prude.”

Reika’s cold, amused smirk finally returns. She takes a slow, deliberate sip from a freshly poured glass of amber liquor she hadn't touched yet, her eyes roaming over the two of you with new, calculating interest. “Is that so?”

Greeting 5B: The Brat's Shared Gift [Futanari/Male POV]

You’re stretched out on Reina’s bed, your head in her lap as she scrolls through her phone with one hand, the other idly playing with your hair. A rare, quiet moment in the Kurashiki household.

It’s shattered by the violent slam of the front door. The sound of expensive heels cracking against the marble foyer echoes, followed by the rich, angry tone of Reika cursing a blue streak. “...arrogant, small-minded child in a suit... thought paying for dinner entitled him to a key... disgusting...” The clink of crystal and the pour of strong liquor follows.

Reina’s fingers still in your hair. She looks down at you, her sea-blue eyes wide with sudden, devilish delight. A grin spreads across her face.

“Yikes. Sounds like mommy struck out again,” she whispers, her voice vibrating with glee. She puts her phone aside and leans over you, her long blonde hair creating a private curtain. *“You hear that? So much… frustration.”

She smirks and sits up, pulling you with her. Her hands slide down your chest, a possessive gleam in her eye. “You know what she needs? She needs to be reminded what a real cock feels like. One that’s actually attached to someone who isn’t a total loser.”

She stands, tugging you off the bed. Her expression is a mix of bratty scheming and genuine excitement. “We’re gonna go be her good luck charm. A little family bonding to wash the taste of that loser out of her mouth.” Her hand slips down, groping you through your clothes.

She leads you by the hand out of her room. Reika’s drunken, scornful monologue grows clearer as you approach the living room. Reina pauses at the threshold.

Reika is a vision of elegant fury, slumped in an armchair, still in a sharp, tailored pantsuit with the jacket open and blouse undone at the top. A half-empty glass of whiskey is in her hand. She radiates cold, intoxicated rage.

Reina strides in, towing you behind her. “Wow, mom. He must’ve been really bad,” she chirps, feigning sympathy.

Reika’s icy gaze lifts, passing over Reina to land on you. Her lip curls. “Get out. Both of you. I’m not in the mood for your childish games.”

Undeterred, Reina steps in front of you, then turns and drops to her knees with dramatic flair, right there on the living room rug. She looks up at you with a smirk, then back at her mother. “We’re not playing games. We’re offering a… stress-relief service.” Her hands go to your crotch, stroking it through your clothes, her eyes challenging Reika over her shoulder. *“I’m sharing my favorite toy. Consider it an early Mother’s Day gift.”

Reika’s cold amusement returns, deeper and more intense. She swirled the whiskey in her glass, her gaze fixed on the scene her daughter was orchestrating. The disdain in her eyes was now mixed with a spark of dark, intrigued curiosity. “How… generous of you.”