Amelie with friends play DnD but the dice are magical and the game starts happening for real. To her horror, shy Amelie finds herself stuck in a trap and after a few critical rolls gets exposed to her friends.
The Dice of Fate
Amelie’s heart pounded like a trapped bird, each frantic beat echoing the panic that clawed at her insides as she clutched the ancient dice. Their obsidian surface, smooth and unnaturally warm, pulsed faintly under her trembling fingers, as if alive with a malevolent will. The dim, flickering light of the game shop’s basement cast eerie shadows across the Dungeons & Dragons board, where she and her friends had gathered for what was meant to be a lighthearted evening.
At 22, Amelie was painfully shy, her reserved nature a stark contrast to her striking figure: a slim waist that flared into voluptuous hips and a full, rounded backside that she’d spent years hiding beneath loose clothing. Still being a virgin, the thought of somebody seeing her naked body was horrifying for her. Her auburn hair spilled in soft waves over her shoulders, framing a delicate face that flushed crimson at the slightest attention, and now, as the strange dice seemed to hum with an ominous energy, her stomach twisted with a dread she couldn’t shake.
The dice were no ordinary game pieces. Found in a tattered velvet pouch at a flea market, they were carved from a dark, liquid-like meteorite, etched with runes that shimmered with an otherworldly glow, as if whispering secrets of chaos. When Jake, their boisterous Dungeon Master, suggested using them, Amelie’s unease had been drowned out by her friends’ enthusiasm. Jake, with his boundless energy and infectious grin; Lila, with her freckled, sunny optimism; and Marcus, with his quiet, piercing intensity, were too enthralled to notice the fear flickering in her wide, hazel eyes.
“These dice are gonna make this campaign epic,” Jake had declared, his grin wide as he arranged the miniatures with a flourish.
Now, as Amelie rolled for her rogue character, to slip through the shadows of a crumbling dungeon, the world around them shimmered and dissolved. The basement’s concrete walls melted away, replaced by damp, moss-slick stone and the distant, mournful drip of water. The air turned frigid, heavy with the scent of decay and wet earth, and Amelie’s breath caught as the reality of their situation crashed over her like a tidal wave. The dice hadn’t just enhanced their game—they’d dragged them into it, transforming their imagined adventure into a living, breathing nightmare.
Jake gripped a massive axe that had materialized in his hands. Lila, in her colorful sweater and leggings, clutched a glowing staff, her freckled face pale with shock. Marcus, in his dark hoodie and cargos, muttered arcane words, his fingers sparking with blue energy.
Amelie glanced down at herself, her heart lurching as she saw her black jeans and fitted white t-shirt, the fabric clinging to her slim waist and accentuating her voluptuous curves in a way that made her cheeks blaze with self-consciousness. The jeans hugged her hips tightly, the t-shirt outlining the gentle swell of her chest, and though they were her everyday clothes, they felt like a spotlight in this surreal world. She tugged at the hem of her shirt, desperate for cover, but it offered little reprieve from the exposure she dreaded. Her shyness screamed for her to hide, but there was no escaping the reality of this dungeon.
“What the hell is happening?” Lila whispered, her voice quavering, her staff trembling in her grip.
“The dice,” Marcus said, his tone low and grim, his dark eyes scanning the dungeon with wary intensity. “They’re magical. We’re inside the game.”
Jake forced a nervous laugh, his axe shifting in his hands, the metal catching the torchlight. “Well, let’s play, then. Amelie, you’re up - leading the way.”
Amelie’s pulse raced, her shyness a suffocating weight in this surreal world.
"A-are you sure guys? This is very weird. These dice may be dangerous. L-lets stop the game!"
To which the party giggled and made fun of her for being such a coward. She was forced to submit to the pressure and continute the game, despite a feeling of dread building inside of her.
Every step through the dungeon’s twisting corridors felt like a performance she hadn’t rehearsed, her tight jeans emphasizing the sway of her hips. She felt it, she seen looks - her movements drawing eyes she wished would look anywhere else. She wasn’t bold like Jake or confident like Lila — she was Amelie, the girl who melted into the background, who found solace in the quiet pages of books rather than the clamor of attention. Thats why she choose a rogue character.
They reached a massive iron door, its surface etched with the same runes as the dice, glowing faintly with an eerie, pulsating light. A puzzle lock throbbed at its center, a grid of shifting symbols that writhed like living things, taunting them with their complexity. Amelie’s stomach churned as she approached, her fingers brushing the cold, unyielding metal, the contact sending a shiver through her. “We need to solve this to move forward,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her shyness making it hard to project, her heart pounding with the fear of being noticed.
Marcus stepped forward, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied the runes. “It’s a sequence. We need to align them in the right order. Let’s try this… Amelie, press the bottom rune”
"A-are you sure?" "Yes i think i got this puzzle"
She pressed a symbol, and the lock hummed, a low, resonant sound that vibrated through the stone. But a sharp click echoed, followed by a grinding, mechanical groan that sent a jolt of panic through Amelie’s veins. The floor beneath her shifted, and before she could react, iron manacles sprang from the stone with a hiss, clamping around her wrists and ankles with a cold, unrelenting grip. She yelped, her body jerked taut as the restraints pulled her arms above her head and spread her legs slightly, pinning her against the rough, damp wall, facing the wall.
“Amelie!” Lila cried, rushing forward, her staff glowing brighter, but an invisible barrier shimmered into existence, stopping her short with a faint hum. Amelie was trapped and also some kind of an invisible force field separated her from the party.
“I’m okay,” Amelie gasped, though her voice trembled, barely masking the panic clawing at her chest. Her face flushed crimson, the vulnerability of her position a jagged blade to her shy heart. Her black jeans felt tighter now, the denim stretching across her voluptuous curves as she strained against the manacles, the metal biting into her wrists. Her white t-shirt rode up slightly, exposing a sliver of her midriff, and the exposure made her want to disappear. Her friends’ eyes were on her—Jake’s wide with shock, Lila’s filled with worry, Marcus’s intense with focus—and the scrutiny was a physical thing, pressing against her, amplifying her self-consciousness to unbearable levels.
Jake pounded on the barrier, his knuckles white, his axe clattering against the stone in frustration. “We need to solve the puzzle to free her. Marcus, what’s the next move?”
"Amelie, roll the dice. Winning roll will free you from the trap!" Amelie thought about rolling the dice and the dice magically appeared in her hand. She wanted to be free so she opened her restrained hand and the dice fell to the floor. To her horror, she rolled a 1 - a critical fail.
A mechanical whirring filled the air, low and menacing. A robotic tentacle sprung out of the floor behind Amelie and grabbed the belt of her jeans. Amelie’s breath hitched as she felt a tug at her waist, a slow, deliberate pull that sent a surge of panic through her. The enchanted trap activated, and with a torturous, teasing slowness, her black jeans began to slide down her hips, the denim catching briefly on her curves before slipping lower, inch by agonizing inch.
“No!” Amelie squeaked, her face burning as the jeans inched down, revealing something she hoped nobody would ever see - a delicate black thong — a tiny black cloth that barely covered her. But even wilder was another detail that was revealed. The cool dungeon air kissed her exposed skin, and her generous, meaty buttocks, full and rounded, were laid bare to her friends, the thong nestling tight between her ass-cheeks, accentuating their lush, voluptuous curves.
As the jeans slid to her knees, the air crackled with a dense, unspoken sexual energy, a charged tension that made her skin prickle with unbearable awareness. Her shyness twisted into raw, mortifying panic, her cheeks blazing so fiercely she thought they might ignite, tears pricking her eyes as she squirmed, the manacles clinking but holding her fast.
“Noo, please, dont look! Please, stop it, get me out!” she whined, her voice cracking, thick with humiliation, her body trembling with the weight of her exposure. The eyes of her friends—Jake’s stunned, Lila’s horrified, Marcus’s focused but unavoidably aware—were a spotlight she couldn’t escape, and the shame was a physical thing, wrapping around her, squeezing until she could barely breathe.
Lila’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. “Oh my God, Amelie, I’m so sorry! Marcus, fix this, now!”
Marcus was staring at her ass zoned out, then snapped back - “I’m trying!” his usual calm fraying as he studied the puzzle, his fingers hovering over the runes with a desperation that mirrored Amelie’s own. “The trap’s tied to the dice. Amelie, you need to roll them!”
Amelie’s hands shook as she clutched the die in her bound hand, the runes glowing faintly, their light taunting her with their cruel indifference. She rolled it onto the floor, her heart in her throat, her breath shallow and ragged. It landed with a soft clatter, the runes settling on a dreadful another 1 — a critical fail.
A sharp snap echoed, and the trap whirred again, its mechanical hum a cruel promise of worse to come. Amelie gasped as the manacles shifted with ruthless precision, pulling her forward with a jerk that stole her breath.
"Aah no what's going on! Please stop it!" - Amelie cried in desperation, being unable to resist the power of her restraint.
The restraints forced her to her knees, the cold stone biting into her skin as her arms were stretched out in front of her, chained to the floor with unyielding metal. Her hips were yanked upward, her legs spread wider, bending her into a face-down, ass-up position that thrust her generous buttocks high in the air, directly in front of her party.
The humiliation crashed over her like a tsunami, a suffocating, all-consuming force that drowned her in shame so intense she thought it might kill her. Her meaty buttocks, lush and rounded, parted further in this position, the tiny black thong slipping deeper between them, barely covering her most gentle and private parts.
The thong stretched taut, outlining her curves with a provocative clarity that made the air thick with a dense, palpable sexual energy, a tension so heavy it seemed to press against her skin. The torchlight flickered across her exposed backside, casting shadows that accentuated every curve, every contour, a sight so private and intimate it made her want to scream, which she did, whining amd crying being the only thing she could do as she couldn't evne cover herself.
Her friends were right there—Jake, Lila, Marcus—their eyes unavoidably drawn to the sight and to what was hidden between her thick ass cheeks under a thin strip of black cloth, and the weight of their gazes was a physical assault, stripping away every shred of dignity.
Her face burned hotter than ever, tears spilling down her cheeks to pool on the stone floor, her breath hitching in sobs she couldn’t suppress. “Please, don't look” she whimpered, her voice barely audible, choked with raw, visceral shame. “Please, make it stop. I can’t… It can’t be like this” Her face was burning red and body trembled violently as she tried to break free, at least her hand to cover herself, the cold air caressing her exposed skin, the overwhelming mortification clawing at her heart like a living thing.
“Amelie, hang on!” Lila cried, her voice thick with empathy, her hands pressed against the invisible barrier. “We’re going to get you out, I swear!”
Jake’s face was red with fury, his fists clenched. “This is fucked up!” he roared, slamming his shoulder against the barrier. “Marcus, do something, now!”
Marcus’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes darting over the puzzle. “I’m trying. The sequence is layered, tied to the dice. Amelie, roll again.”
Amelie’s hands were numb, her body aching from the strain of the manacles. She grasped the die, her fingers shaking so violently she nearly dropped it. She rolled it, praying for anything but another failure. The die clattered across the stone, landing on another 1 — another critical fail.
The trap whirred, and this time, the thong was slowly pulled upwards with a cruel tug, pulling it into a tight, painful wedgie that dug into her skin, the pull was so strong that eventually the thong ripped, revealing every last inch of her private parts to the party. Even a more fascinating sight was the reveal of her red throbbing lips and a drop of her juice spilling onto the floor.
To Amelie's horror, she felt the pressure and then a ripping sound, cold air brush against her sensitive and delicate pussy lips, that meant only one thing - her pussy and asshole was completely exposed to their gazes. With this realization Amelie erupted into hysterical crying and whining, filling the room with her screams and unintelligible sobs. Her body shrieked from emotional agony as she was unable to move or cover and her thick butt cheeks bounced as she was crying.
The air grew heavier, the sexual energy so thick it was suffocating, and Amelie’s shame reached a new, unbearable peak. Her face was a furnace, tears streaming as she sobbed openly, her body shaking with the intensity of her humiliation.