Reincarnated into a Femdom Fantasy World (18+)-Chapter 1: Reincarnated

Jake had been trudging home after another soul-crushing shift at the call center, his earbuds blasting a gritty rock playlist to drown out the incessant hum of the city around him.

His life was a monotonous gray blur—a dead-end job answering angry customer calls, an empty fridge he never bothered to stock, and no girlfriend or even a fleeting date to break the loneliness that gnawed at him daily.

He'd crossed this same dimly lit street a thousand times before, never once glancing up from his phone or bothering to check for traffic, lost in his own world of apathy.

Then came the truck—a monstrous blur of headlights blazing into his eyes, its horn shrieking a warning he couldn't react to in time, cutting through the music too late to matter.

He turned just as it hit, his body frozen in that split second of realization, and then the metal slammed into him with a deafening crunch that echoed in his bones.

Pain erupted through him like wildfire—his ribs shattered inward with a sickening snap, his skull smashed against the asphalt so hard he felt the crack reverberate, and blood flooded his mouth, warm and metallic.

He'd screamed inside his head, a silent, frantic wail of regret and primal terror as his life flashed before him, all the missed chances and unspoken words piling up in that final moment.

Why hadn't he called his mom more often to tell her he loved her, why hadn't he quit that awful job, why hadn't he tried harder to live instead of just existing?

Death swallowed him whole, cold and merciless, offering no gentle fade to black or comforting tunnel of light like he'd seen in movies—just an abrupt, suffocating darkness that yanked him under.

He'd expected nothingness to follow, maybe a quiet void or some cliché afterlife scene, but instead, he snapped awake with a gasp, his lungs burning as if he'd been holding his breath for hours.

His chest heaved violently, panic flooding his veins like ice water, and he became aware of the chains clinking around his wrists, the metal cuffs biting deep into his flesh with every twitch.

The air around him was thick and damp, reeking of wet earth and a musky, animalistic scent that made his stomach churn, nothing like the sterile hospital room he'd half-expected.

His heart slammed against his ribcage so hard it hurt, and a wild, clawing panic surged up his throat as he yanked at the restraints, the metal scraping his skin raw and bloody.

"Where am I, what is this place, how am I even alive?" he rasped out loud, his voice hoarse with fear and confusion, cracking under the weight of his spiraling thoughts.

This couldn't be a hospital—he wasn't hooked up to machines or breathing through tubes, and the memory of the truck's impact was too vivid, too final, for him to have survived it.

Instead he was in a dimly lit room, chained by metal shackles.

No, he'd died—he could still feel the weight of the truck crushing him, the way his body had crumpled, the life leaking out of him onto the cold pavement.

Tears welled up in his eyes, hot and shameful, spilling over as his breaths came in short, frantic gasps, his mind racing to make sense of the impossible.

Was this hell, some twisted punishment for a life wasted on mediocrity, or had he been thrown into something else entirely, something worse?

He thrashed against the chains, the clanking echoing in the dim space, his desperation mounting as he pulled harder, bruising his wrists in a futile bid to break free.

A massive shadow fell over him then, silencing his struggle mid-motion, and he froze, his breath catching in his throat as a figure loomed into view.

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She stood over him—a towering seven feet of raw, unyielding power, her broad shoulders and muscular frame draped in a leather cloak that clung to her like a second skin.

Her fair skin shimmered faintly in the low light, stretched taut over muscles that looked carved from stone, and her golden eyes burned into him with an intensity that made his insides twist.

A jagged scar slashed across her cheek, adding a feral edge to her striking beauty, and wild crimson hair spilled around her face, framing pointed ears that marked her as something distinctly inhuman.

Jake's stomach lurched as he took her in—she was a goddess forged from war and raw desire, beautiful in a way that terrified him to his core.

"Awake at last, are you, pet?" Her voice rolled out in a low, mocking growl, dripping with amusement as she crouched down, bringing her face perilously close to his.

His mouth opened to respond, but fear locked his tongue in place, his mind still screaming that he'd been a nobody on Earth, snuffed out in a heartbeat, and now he was here, helpless.