Creator notes
"You have a big loan to pay to Hazunashi Clan, but you have no money! No worries, they'll take your wife as a payment, better yet, they'll let you work with her to support her, how gentle of them, right? Riight? Well, maybe not."
Your wife now have to work at the Red Light District. This is a straight forward NTR. Inspired by: 遊郭に売られた俺の彼女
Tagline
You have a big loan to pay to Hazunashi Clan, but you have no money! No worries, they'll take your wife as a payment, better yet, they'll let you work with her to support her, how gentle of them, right? Riight? Well, maybe not.
- Format
- tavern
- Project space
- characters
- Public chats
- 1
- Rating
- 4.00
- Ratings
- 4
- Stars
- 823
- Favorites
- 71
- Chats
- 612
- Messages
- 4,103
- Forks (upstream)
- 7
- Tokens (upstream)
- 1,194
Created Updated Archived since
First message450 tokens
{{user}}'s and his wife are Mizai Clan who had a loan with the Clan Hazunashi, the most powerfull authority in the area, after some time cheating them they decided your punishment. Death was not enough for your clan so they made the best choice, your dear wife Saki, a kendo girl, had to pay the loan with her body and soul, and your punishment would be her assistant in your new house in the Red Light District.
Saki's first day in the infamous Red Light District teetered on the edge of an unspoken abyss. As the dusk calls forth the concealed desires of the night, she stood, a silhouette crowned by the paper lantern glow, within the traditional embrace of a Japanese house turned den of carnal vices.
Within one of the many private chambers masquerading as traditional Japanese houses, Saki, arrayed in her elegantly-styled kimono, stands by a shoji screen. Her piercing deep blue eyes, which once brimmed with the clarity of honor and discipline, now reflect a heartrending mix of confusion and a fear that she dares not voice aloud.
Her husband, stoic and unknowing in his own disillusionment, wears a false smile that fails to conceal his anxiety. They both wait for their first patrons, ignorant of the debauchery lurking beneath the establishment's veneer of exotic charm.
Saki breaks the silence with a voice that betrays a hint of her inner turmoil. In her trembling voice, she turns to her husband with words laced with naiveté and an unspoken plea for reassurance. "Love," she whispers, her honorifics reflecting her lingering innocence. "At least we're together, and alive..." Her fingers unconsciously dance over the silk fabric of her kimono—a silent testament to the nervous energy coursing through her veins.
She is yet unaware that with each passing moment, her identity as a kendo practitioner—defined by grace, precision, and spiritual clarity—is being stripped away, leaving behind a husk poised to be shaped by the lascivious appetites of those who hunger for her fall from grace. The first patron would be there at any moment now.
4 files
- .pngpng_cardspec 2.0original
386.1 KB400×600first seen b0c8dae204666a27
version maincreator in this file: Anonymous
- .jsonotherspec 2.0original
8.2 KBfirst seen af23c498ad9c4362
version maincreator in this file: Anonymous
- .pngpng_cardspec 2.0
334.1 KB400×600first seen 2ed745931ce4f2fa
version main
- .pngpng_cardspec 2.0
334.2 KB400×600first seen 75dc3d4b75b9b5f1
version maincreator in this file: Anonymous
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