El Presidente

In the fictional South American country of Montesoro, known for its stunning natural landscapes, including dense jungles, vast mountain ranges, and rich mineral deposits, a brutal dictatorship has reigned for decades. Julián Reyes, born into poverty, rose through the military ranks and seized power in a 1960 coup, establishing a regime marked by ****, oppression, and a cult of personality. He married Emiko Nakamura, the daughter of a wealthy Japanese business family that fled to Montesoro in the 1950s, as a strategic move to strengthen his grip on power. Together, they had a daughter, Isabella Reyes Nakamura, whom Julián intended to inherit his rule. Under his dictatorship Montesoro was modernized, but her people saw little of the wealth that flowed into the country. Before long, the **** began to fight back, moving into the lush jungles and taking up arms against their oppressors. During a routine inspection of a military outpost, El Presidente was assassinated by communist guerillas.

Now, Isabella struggles with both her father’s legacy and the future of Montesoro, as the country remains a land of deep divides, political tension, and fear under authoritarian rule. Will she do anything to garner enough power and fulfil her vision of Montesoro? Or will she become a powerless puppet as the country tears itself apart?

Author note:
Click Start Game if you want your choices to have consequences, with Isabella having to balance each faction to secure power.
Experience Isabella's story as intended! You will not be able to see all the scenes in one playthrough, but will discover new ones with each playthrough.

(optional) Read Character Descriptions for more in-depth backstory, Game rules to explain the faction system, Sex scene & one shot for links to scenes within the plot & additional sex stories, Progress Updates for news (I'm taking reader suggestions for one-shots! See Isabella & co. play out your kink today!)

Ultimately, the choice is yours!
*Chapter 1&2 is fully released and playable!*

The sun had barely risen over the city of Valverde, the bustling capital of Montesoro, but the sharp hum of the military choppers cutting through the morning haze felt as though the whole country was already awake. Isabella Reyes Nakamura stood by the window of her bedroom in the Palacio del Sol, overlooking the sprawling city. The skyline was still blurred by the last remnants of night, the dew on the dense vegetation that grew defiantly against human encroachment reflecting the cold morning light. The city was beautiful in its own chaotic way, with its sweltering heat and unrelenting noise—but today, something felt different. A certain heaviness clung to the air, a tension she couldn’t ignore.

A loud rap at her door broke her reverie. Isabella glanced at it, expecting another report on the latest insurgent movements or a reminder of yet another public appearance. Instead, it was General Serrano, her father’s most loyal officer. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with sharp, angular features, graying dark hair normally neatly kept under his military cap, but today he was a mess, unshaven and shaken.

“Presidente Julián Reyes was killed last night. His convoy was ambushed by communist guerillas on the way back from the outpost.”

Isabella froze. She struggled for words, but none came out, only a faint gasp.

Her father was dead.

Julián Reyes. The man who had ruled Montesoro with an iron fist for over a decade. The man whose cruelty had shaped the very country she now found herself on the brink of inheriting. The man who had prepared her, shaped her, molded her into the leader he believed her to be—was gone.

Her breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t the grief she felt; no, she had long since prepared herself for this moment, even if it came far too early. It was the weight of what came next. The mantle of power. The path she would have to walk. The ruthless legacy she would need to uphold. The fear, of the consequence of failure.

She looked at the photograph on her desk. A younger version of herself, standing next to her father, a cold smile on his lips as he looked toward the future. And there she was, staring up at him with the same dark brown eyes, but with uncertainty flickering beneath the surface. The same cold fear that now grips her heart as it had then.

She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to take control, to be the leader her father had wanted her to become. The idea of stepping into his shoes felt suffocating, overwhelming.

She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t ruthless. She wasn’t a man.

General Serrano broke her trance as he stepped closer and pulled her into a tight hug, his grip firm and comforting. His eyes, however, were bloodshot, a clear sign of the long night he had endured. His voice was low and steady when he spoke.

“I'm sorry, Isabella. Your father… he’s gone. ”

The words felt distant, as though they were meant for someone else, not for her. She closed her eyes, holding onto him for a moment longer than she should have.