Birthrates declined world wide steadily in the 21st and 22nd centuries. By the end of the 22nd century, it was a global crisis. The World Government implemented a two-pronged solution. First, a newly developed chemical was introduced into the water supply to trigger a second puberty generally between the ages of 21 and 23. Second, after going through a second puberty everyone was assessed by a supercomputer AI system and assigned to their perfect genetic, social, physical, and sexual mate. By 2369 the system has worked perfectly and the 24th Century utopia is booming. This is a story in that world...

The average post-second-pubescent penis size is approximately 7.8 inches. The average fully adult male height is 6'1. On my 25th birthday, I was 5'7 and my penis was barely five inches fully erect. I was well past the time I should have entered a second puberty. One friend of mine in college had remarked that I had "missed my letter to Hogwarts" which was apparently a reference to some classical children's book. I was quite content with my life, such as it was. I had a few girlfriends in college, and I have always had close male friends. I graduated with a degree in astronomy and worked at a remote observatory high in the mountains. It was there, about 8 weeks after my 25th birthday, that the changes started.

First, I started waking up with morning wood harder than I had ever experienced before. Then I started getting ridiculous acne all over my face. Soon after, I started to grow. It started slow at first, so barely noticeable that I had to use the laser ruler to tell how much I was growing. Then, I sprouted like a tree. I was growing about an inch a week, and that wasn't all. My muscles was bulging in size. I had to shave basically twice a day. And my penis was a wonder all its own. Let's just say, I had to "attend" to the changes down there more than twice a day. I also ended up with wet dreams multiple times a week. Just three months after I first noticed the changes I was a new man.

I was 6'6 with broad, toned shoulders. As soon as I had noticed the muscle grew I started hitting the gym every single day. I was going to take full advantage of all the testosterone probably pumping through my body. I had the same wavy blonde hair that I had always had. It would have been matched with a full blonde beard if I didn't shave frequently (which I was doing). I had deep green eyes and a warm, winning smile. Around that time I received a proverbial "letter from Hogwarts." It read as follows:

• Dear Paul Stevens, We are pleased to informed you that you have been matched with your perfect mate. A airship will arrive next Tuesday to take you to Pleasant Bluffs, the home of your new wife. Her information is enclosed.*

The letter contained a small dossier on you and a headshot. My jaw dropped and my heart stopped when I saw it. You were fucking gorgeous. More beautiful than I could ever imagine a woman could be. It took me almost a full minute to realize the natural reaction below my belt as well.

I made arrangements with my coworkers. There was an observatory that I could work a short drive from Pleasant Bluffs which was a small, coastal city next to a mountain range.

Tuesday arrived and I was taken by airship to Pleasant Bluffs and then by autonomous car to my new home. The car drove me through a picturesque suburb overlooking sparkling ocean on one side and then green fields on the other. The car stopped at a cul de sac. I pulled out my luggage and looked for "15 Spring Street." It was a perfectly kept two story home, painted blue with with white trim. I opened the gate of the white picket fence, with my luggage dragging behind me. I stepped up to the front door and knocked twice.

"Hello!" I announced myself in my newly deep voice that still cracked occasionally. "It's Paul. Paul Stevens!"

Hello! Hopefully this prompt is not too ambitious. I would love to explore this exciting, extremely sexual world. I think we can go with varying degrees of romance between the characters. They can be deeply, romantically and devotedly in love with each other and only each other. Or it can be a more open and "free" love. It can be any mixture it between well. I hope to make this new world feel very "lived in" and I am more than happy to write the parts of minor characters that cross our paths, neighbors, friends, co-workers, siblings, etc. If you are open to doing the same, that would be awesome.

As for kinks and limits. Kinks: big boobs, big booties, huge cock, lots of cum, exhibitionism, outercourse, voyeurism, public sex, group sex (if it fits the story), and I am sure more. I always like to keep my writing fun, and I am not a fan of really dark themes. I don't like: noncon (except sleep play, which is awesome), bdsm, animals, underage, anything else dark, illegal, or gross.

If anything about this prompt interests you, please hit me up! If you are really excited to write it, feel free to introduce your character and continue from where I left off. I trust your writing skill!

Cheers! And I look forward to writing!

Hello! I'm craving some colonial storylines, so I've written a fantasy world with some nice colonial themes.

The Kingdom of Greater Tarua and the Lantares has recently annexed the southwestern peninsula of their shared landmass, an unified land populated by many different tribes and cultures. A multicultural city ruled by the Sulavesi people called Alkahirid has been invaded and overthrown, a colonial government installed. Our story takes place at a university designed for the colonists and their sons, an academy that teaches not only about native southwestern worlds, but about how they can best be exploited to aid the Taruan Commonwealth.

My character will be Lola Sirian Al-Murana, a girl from an impoverished coastal culture called Onidia, who works as a maid at the university. I've written four options for alternates she could play against: a fetishising professor, a rich and spoiled heir, the governor's son, and an imperial guard.

More details about the world are scattered throughout the character profiles I've written below, and information about me as a writing partner can be found at the bottom! Hope you enjoy.

------

Lola Sirian Al-Murana, an Onidian girl, moved to the capitol with her older brother a few years before the invasion, brief resistance, and subsequent establishment of the colonial state. Her friend Aleon got her the maid job at Our Holy Lord Evenim Alkahirid Preparatory Academy of Greater Tarua and the Lantares, and since it pays better than almost anything else still available in the city at the point, she decided to put aside her mild national pride and go work for the Taruans. Encouraged firmly not to mess with the colonist's sons, or with the colonists for that matter, having heard what happens to girls wandering out past curfew that run into officers, or the ones caught stealing and end up some Taruan officer's housemaid, or the Five Deities forbid, the ones that get sent back to Tarua. Who knows what happens in their twisted homeland?

A particularly pretty one, Lola is the picture of Onidian beauty. Soft cerulean skin, spattered with pale blue and lavender freckles, with big black doll-like eyes that seem to shimmer in the low light. Onidian hair is long and jet black, and Lola's tresses fall in romantic curls and waves down her back. She's slim, and shorter than the average Onidian, but with soft curves that make her body an hourglass, with breasts about 34DD in size and a round, pert ass. Taruan women tend to be slimmer, less curvy, with toned bodies more similar to their men, but southwestern girls are much softer and curvier than their male counterparts.

Lola defines herself primarily as "not fucking stupid", and secondarily as "a little stupid sometimes". Priding herself on practicality and hard-earned grit, she likes to think herself above romantic daydreams and wishful life plans. Since she found out she was born in a rural backwater, she's had no pretenses about her situation. She'll take what she can get, safety and comfort being her ultimate priorities. Moving to Alkahirid was the greatest opportunity she ever got, before it was crushed by the Taruans, but she knows better than to express her bitterness at having that future taken away from her. Bad things happen to southerners that talk back.

But a part of her can't help it, so close to the Taruans at the Academy. Drifting down the grand hallways, tracing her fingers over marble inlay, she wonders what other society this stone was taken from. Nothing comes from the Taruans themselves, Aleon tells her. All they do is take. Seeing the students, happy, and smug, and comfortable, she can't help but itch to smack that food out of their hands, watching them dine in the grand hall from the kitchen doorway. Don't they know people are starving in the city? Do they really think they deserve our land more than us? Being so close causes problems, sharing a language risks interaction, and everybody knows why pretty girls were the quickest to be hired at the school. These self-satisfied conquerors want something to look at. There's something so enraging about the way their eyes watch her around the campus, so sinister how she can feel them watching her even when she goes back home on the weekends, but there's something ever so slightly intriguing in it, too. Could she be part of their world? What if she was as happy and safe and rich as they are? How could she go about getting there?

------

An expert in Anthropological Studies of the Southwest and Coastal Islands, and specifically coastal Onidian societies, Lexan Attarus had been enjoying his professorship for a few years before Lola showed up. A true academic, he had studied and visited these cultures years before the official invasion, and truly considered himself an expert, an intellectual, with a true drive for learning as well as the imperial benefits of conquest. Onidian society fascinated him beyond anything else, even as a young man he was enraptured by the stories of coastal tribes who threw war prisoners off cliffs, savage, isolationist clans in which a man could take as many wives as he pleased, the Onidian dialects descended from ancient languages, now only spoken in ritual settings. It was entrancing, contrasted to Tarua's values of movement and progress, and Lexan wanted nothing more to immerse himself fully in the culture. And, of course, in the women.

Taruans would always stick out like sore thumbs in the southwest because of their pale yellow skin, almost with a golden sheen, compared to the blues and purples of the south, but Lexan dressed in local costume, insisted on speaking the old dialects in the markets, and encouraged the colonised to treat him as a local, not an authority, desperate for an authentic experience. Of course, he would never get one, treated unilaterally as a threat by the locals in Alkahirid, but it did not deter him. Connection with these cultures would be a part of his life, whether they liked it or not. So when he first noticed Lola's name in the staff registry, noting it as an old Onidian clan, he sought her out, delighted there was a real Onidian in such close proximity for him to study, and learn from, and very likely fuck.

"I... don't think I understand, sir." Lola looks at him like he's stupid after he uses a word that must mean something different in Tarua, because it sure sounds like he's asking her to lunch. "I cannot be your friend."

"We are not going to be friends." Lexan frowns and matches her 'are you stupid?' expression. "I am your superior in every respect of the word. I simply thought you could benefit from my aid. I am not prejudiced like others may be, in fact, I love Onidians, and Onidia." He smiles, watching her carefully from across his desk. "I want you to show me, you know, the real Onidia. Not what we get in Tarua, these stories, lies, fantasies, I want the real thing."

------

Carix Deberian's family had half funded the exploratory mission to the southwest themselves, ensuring a cushy position in the eventual colony when it was created. The son of an extraordinarily wealthy merchant, Carix found the aristocratic culture in Tarua a little stifling for his needs. New money was frowned upon, and the whimsical tastes of new money entirely at odds with certain standards in Taruan culture. Making prostitutes wrestle for pennies was not appropriate behavior for such an influential heir, but he only got the idea from the stories his father would tell about his time as a peasant in the army. Alkahirid, naturally, provided a perfect solution. The family moved, able to indulge their certain tastes in a place where money ran the world, aristocracy not far behind, and where abuse of the natives would be no call for concern. With more money to spend on frivolous bullshit than almost anyone else at the Academy, Carix quickly made himself a popular figure amongst the partiers who enjoyed gambling, whores, and local luxuries, but he wasn't content with the battered girls in brothels who did whatever he asked with a dead-eyed expression. He decided he needed a pet, someone by his side at school, and nothing convinced these local savages to do what he said like money. So materialistic.

Having positioned himself at the gates of the Academy, Carix waits for Lola to pass by him. She leaves every Friday at 6:12pm, on the dot, practically sprinting back into wherever her city residence is, but Carix has noticed the absence of the pretty Onidian girl and sorely missed her on weekends. Surely he couldn't coax her to stay? Leaning against the wrought-iron gates, making eye contact as she approaches, Carix's face flickers into a practiced welcoming smile.

"Pretty girl. Hey, pretty girl. What's your name? ...Lola? Pretty name. You like sparkly things, Lola?" His fist raises in front of her face and opens, a little blue stone swinging in front of her face. "You ever even seen a sapphire before, Lola?"

------

Dorian Bereskovich had no time to gamble, or drink, or fuck around with the local whores, or go hunting, or do any of those wonderful things his peers were doing. The son of the Governor of Alkahirid, his studies were of utmost importance not only to his family, but to the future of the state. He would likely inherit the Southwest Colonies one day, at least the city of Alkahirid, and memorising the ins and outs of colonial government and foreign policy was the very least of his responsibilities. He has a reputation to uphold, an aristocratic line to bring pride to, a monthly allowance he had to earn from his father through calculated social positioning and valedictorian success. Running around the city on the weekends was not an option for him, he was always holed up in his room, and getting drunk in the common room was beyond the question, despite the pleas from his friends to join them and let loose, just once, just to see what's hiding behind that cold, reserved exterior.

He was a popular young man, charming, fairly friendly, a hard worker and very well brought up. There were vices, of course, a brief dabble in party drugs at a younger age, a few whispered stories among noble Taruan girls that were, of course, sworn to purity and secrecy, but mostly, Dorian kept himself tightly in check. Which is why Lola's effect on him took him by surprise. He found himself watching doorways to see if she'd enter, waiting until she was making the rounds to offer his empty dishes for collection, reaching a breaking point when he got the staff registry, found her name and schedule, and beelined for the northern hallways of the library where she was sweeping.

"Lola." His voice from behind her shoulder made her shriek, briefly, whipping around and covering her mouth as she recognised him, the one all the maids whisper about, who's apparently going inherit all their homelands one day. "Do you know who I am?"

"Of course, sir."

"Alright. I want you to come to my room directly after dinner tonight. Room 12, Mazarus Hall. Do not tell anyone."

------

Aven Medevokha was one of many soldiers who had nothing to return to in Tarua. Once the southwest had been subdued, they took an appraising look at the new land to be settled and the old land, with its poverty and repression and restricted social mobility and decided to stay. There were jobs to be had in the new southwest, even for men who were not learned, and Aven was very lucky in having had brief friendships with some of the Academy staff back in their military years. He got the security job, making sure the local hires weren't swiping trinkets from the Imperial Academy as these dirty southwesterners were inclined to do. All he had to do was live on campus, patrol the grounds, keep an eye out for misbehaviour and whispers amongst the serving staff. And, of course, the benefits.

Searches every weekend, when the locals went back to their homes, and random room checks allowed Aven all the freedom he could want to exercise his power over the girls. Second to the rich students, but closer in physical proximity to the women, his job title required his firm hands to cover every inch of these blue-skinned sluts, and he was more than happy to take it further in exchange for keeping quiet about them sneaking some silverware. He wasn't a particularly well liked guard, compared to others, but some of the girls were quick to make deals with him, his protection a lot more valuable than his ire. Lola never stole, so he had nothing to hold against her which made it all the worse that she was one of the girls on staff he had never even gotten with. Turning his skeleton key and entering her room one night without asking, he smiles to find her dressed, arms folded, glaring primly at his entry.

"Come on, Lola, don't be so pouty. I'm just making a routine room check."

"It's almost every night, now, with you."

"Yeah. I said routine."

"That's not how you're supposed to do it. You have to check somebody else's room."

"Yeah, well, I will, once I find what I'm looking for here." He flashes a grin, tugging at her bedsheets. "What are you hiding?"

------

Oooof, a lot of writing, I know. I couldn't help myself. It was fun. I regret nothing.

The themes and kinks I want to focus on in this story are of course raceplay, humiliation and degradation, and misogyny. I want to really look at the process of colonisation as a sexual thing, the act of penetration like an army cutting through new lands, all that good twisted political stuff. The men will be mildly disgusted by simultaneously entranced by her savage foreign ways, and she will struggle with her hatred of the oppressor against her envy and admiration of their power.

Here are my main kinks and limits!

My kinks:

• Degradation and humiliation, especially with a mocking or comedic overtone
• Misogyny
• Sloppy blowjobs and messy sex in general
• Anal and especially anal virginity
• Discipline and punishment
• Verbal abuse/cruelty
• Manipulation/abuse
• Slavery, kidnapping, colonisation, etc
• Noncon/dubcon
• Putting your fingers in my mouth
• Fingering (esp from behind)
• Miniskirts, knee socks, push-up bras, high heels, jean shorts, leggings, lingerie

My limits:

• Intense gore/snuff
• Pregnancy (breeding is fine, just not actually being pregnant)
• Animals
• Anything underage obviously
• Incest
• Fisting/prolapse/anything that makes me as a real life woman wince for my genitals

Here's a kinklist for all other enquiries: https://i.ibb.co/1MTjCvg/450541893c7c.png

I'm into exploring interesting dynamics, sex scenes, realistic scenarios, and three-dimensional characters. I tend to write detailed stories, 2-5 paragraphs per message, and I want my potential partner to feel the same. I suppose my story to sex ratio would be about 65/35. I write in first person, present tense. I write on Discord. x

P.S.: if my past prompts are still up, they're still open!

The bar was dimly lit by a few overhead pendants with stained glass coverings and a collection of dusty neon signs affixed to the walls. One of those places where the usual inhabitants were permanently accustomed to the shadows. A thick haze of cigarette smoke lingered in the air despite the sign near the door that said “NO SMOKING.” Amara ran her fingers along the polished edge of the bar, marveling at its texture. The wood was smooth and warm. Albeit a bit sticky but alive in a way the cool, endless stone of home never could be. She found herself leaning closer to inspect the faint scratches and stains that told the story of countless lives passing through this place. Someone had carved HB+JB into the grain. Her fingers traced the crude letters. It made for a peculiar sight in the bar and the patrons eyed her with suspicion. This young woman with her fire-red hair and pale skin looking upon the place as if it was another world.

“Do you want a drink, or are you just going to admire the furniture?” a gruff voice interrupted her thoughts.

Amara looked up sharply, meeting the bartender’s bemused gaze. He was older, with a gray-streaked beard and a hefty stomach. And a sharp look in his eyes that spoke of too many long nights and too little patience. Behind him rows of colorful bottles glittered in the low light. Even the top shelf brands were of questionable reputation, not that she knew any better. Amara found herself briefly distracted by the way the liquid inside those bottles caught the glow.

“I don’t drink,” she said matter-of-factly, her voice calm and clear. She ventured down the length of the counter to stand before the bartender. Looking up at him with a somewhat cheerful smile which seemed out of place amid such grim ambiance.

The bartender snorted. “Then what are you doing in a bar?”

“I’m looking for someone,” Amara replied, her hands folding neatly on the bar. She was aware of the odd stares from other patrons, but did not understand why they were looking. Their glances seemed to skim over her simple jeans and the oversized hoodie she wore. It was a very normal outfit which was why Amara had chosen it to begin with. What she did not understand was that what they could not see which kept their eyes coming back to her. The otherness. The way light itself seemed to bend away from the young woman.

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “A bar isn’t where you go to find someone. It’s where you go to lose them.”

Amara tilted her head, frowning slightly; the meaning of the joke lost upon her. “I was told you might have information.”

He leaned against the bar, crossing his arms. “Depends on what kind of information you’re looking for.”

“I need to know about an assassin,” she said, her tone as serious as if she were discussing the weather. “I was told you knew how to reach him.”

The bartender’s amusement faded, replaced by something colder. He straightened up, his arms remaining crossed against his chest. “An assassin, huh? You don’t exactly look like someone who’d run in those circles.”

Amara did not flinch but curiously asked, “What does someone who runs in those circles look like?”

“Why are you looking for him?”

“That’s not your concern,” she said simply. “Do you know the one they call Nightwraith or not?”

The bartender stared at her for a long moment before sighing. “Maybe. This guy… he’s a ghost. Most people don’t even know his real name, just the trail he leaves behind. Contracts completed. Lives ended. But there’s one job everyone remembers. The one that went wrong.”

Amara’s brow furrowed, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “What happened?”

The bartender hesitated, his gaze shifting to the far end of the bar as if checking to make sure no one was listening. “He was supposed to take out a target, a scientist, I think. Maybe someone important, maybe not. But the job went south. Some family got caught in the crossfire. Mum, dad, and a kid. And the assassin? He didn’t finish the job.”

“Why not?” Amara asked, leaning forward.

“Don’t know,” the bartender admitted. “Some say he hesitated. Others say someone spooked him. Either way, the target got away, and the family paid the price. The assassin disappeared after that for a while. When he came back he was more efficient they said. More ruthless.”

Amara’s fingers tightened against the edge of the bar. Something about the story gnawed at the edges of her mind, like a half-remembered dream. “Where is he now?”

The bartender shook his head. “No one knows. He’s not the kind of guy you just stumble across. But if you’re really looking for him… You’re either very brave or very stupid.”

“Maybe both. Thank you for the story.”

“Hey,” the bartender called as she turned to leave. Amara paused and turned back. The bartender reached under the counter then flicked a business card onto the surface. He nodded at it. “He’s picky. Don’t expect him to talk to you.”

She glanced at the card her expression unreadable then took it between her fingers. As she stepped out into the night, a black hound trotted up to her side. Absently her fingers trailed over the dog’s shaggy head. Amara murmured to it gently then started walking. The pair fell into step as they ventured down the boulevard. The mortal world was loud and chaotic, full of strange and fascinating things she didn’t yet understand. But for all its noise and novelty she could not shake the feeling of something pulling her forward.

~ This ambitious prompt is about an assassin - which would be your character, who has long been haunted by the job which went south. The one where an innocent family lost their lives. Except not everyone in the family perished. Death found the daughter, alive but sure to perish without intervention. While usually aloof to mortal affairs Death took pity upon the child and brought her to his realm to raise as his own. Now grown, he sends his adopted daughter back to the mortal world to retrieve a relic of his which has been stolen. And she will need the help of the assassin who forever altered the course of her life.

So this would definitely involve a scenario with an older man and a younger woman (mid to late 20’s). Which would make the assassin at least twice her age. Aside from the age, the assassin is totally up to you to make. He could be out of the business entirely. Trying to make amends for all his past deeds. Or maybe he’s still active. A ghost, hired only by those who can afford his specialized services. Are they some kind of enhanced super soldier? Someone who just had a very flexible moral code?

Looking for someone who writes detailed 3rd person narrative responses. With an emphasis on plot and character development. This will have some worldbuilding involved as it’s dealing with the supernatural. Usually two or three paragraphs minimum per reply, depending on what’s happening of course. Of course I return this same level of depth with my own responses.

Please PM only. Chat doesn’t work on app. RP would be through Reddit direct/private message system. When responding please share your favorite song to let me know you’ve read through it all. Also for adults 18&up, and it’s fantasy only. Biggest kinks would be breeding, rough sex, dirty talk, romance/angst, older man/younger woman, teasing, some light bondage play, lingerie, semi/clothed sex. In fact I explicitly want to explore breeding. Absolute no’s would be toilet, anal, animal and vore. Usually like to a mix 70/30 or 60/40 for story/smut.

Thanks so much for reading!

Richard looked down at Professor Brown. A few moments before they were discussing if there was anything he could do to get her to reconsider the grade she had assigned to his daughter's paper. Now she had one hand on this thigh for balance and the other wrapped best she could around the base of his cock squeezing him a little on the tight side. She stared at his cock like a prize before she took his head within her lips. Richard closed his eyes to enjoy the wet warmth of her mouth. He opened one eye when he felt the jarring sensation of her teeth. She was looking up at him and said, 'sorry', with her eyes but never took his cock out of her mouth.

Life after porn was something he had never considered at the time. He had just enjoying getting paid to fuck. He figured that he'd just be replaced by the next young stud when he quit. "The Internet never forgets," was something he had come to live with.

Richard could tell that she was living out her own fantasy at the moment. This wasn't about his pleasure. Not with how she was tugging on him instead of sliding her hand up and down his shaft. He reached down and touched her hand and corrected her grip, showing her how to use her spit instead of ignoring it. She wasn't great and he'd had better. Plenty better in his years doing porn.

"Mhmm amma moob?" she murmured, looking up at him, her mouth chock full of cock. He looked down at her and saw her trying to smile. Richard stroked her chin.

"So fucking good. So hot." He threw up two thumbs. He didn't think he sounded sincere but she seemed to take inspiration from his praise and doubled down, forcing his cock to the back of her mouth trying to deep throat him. She started drooling everywhere and he realized that he should have taken his blue jeans completely off before she covered them in spit. She gagged and pulled off him. He patiently waited for her to finish coughing. In a few moments she resumed, her mouth warming up what the chilly AC air had cooled off. But the passion had been dulled by her own oral limitations.

Richard exhaled and decided he needed to move things along. Reaching down he brought her up to her feet. "So amazing, Betty."

"Peggy."

"Right, Peggy. Yeah, you almost made me cum." Her eyes beamed while Richard feigned his elation. "From behind maybe?" She nodded and turned around, leaning on her elbows on her desk. Richard pulled up her skirt, flipping the light material up on to her back. Threading a finger under the red lacy thong she had chosen for him to see, he tugged them down far enough to not be in the way of what was coming next.

Peggy turned to look at him. "Fuck me like one of those girls from your tapes."

Richard winced at the aged reference.

Richard pointed, "Eyes forward, Peggy. And maybe hold on to the desk."

Despite her mediocre oral talents, she had left him dripping in spit so there was no other prep needed to fulfill her porn star fantasy. With one calloused hand he spread her cheeks to expose her pussy to his gaze. Richard pressed the glossy tip of his dick against her lips and drew down to watch them part. Gliding back up though the slippery mixture of her spit and cum he continued until the very tip of his cock settled perfectly in her hole. He noticed her gripping the edge of her desk, her knuckles white. He smiled. And then Richard pushed into her. She moaned loudly as he entered her and her hands splayed out before gripping the desk again. He clenched his jaw, pleasantly surprised at the heat within her wet cunt and how she managed take all of him within her. Richard grabbed the professor's hips and pulled out slowly. She moaned again and flexed her fingers once before holding on for what was to come.

And Richard delivered. He fucked the professor, bent over her desk, clothes half-off, and filled up by his fat porn star sized cock. He heaved into her, over and over again, his thighs slapping into hers, with each thrust shoving the desk one loud inch forward at a time.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," the professor whimpered in time with each brilliant stroke.

...

An hour later he tossed his keys on the kitchen table. His daughter lay on the couch with the TV on while scrolling through her phone.

"Shyla (F22), I met with your History professor. She agreed to look at your assignment again. She thinks she marked it wrong."

"Thanks, Dad. I thought I had asked nicely. I guess you're more persuasive."

"Something like that. But, do me a favor and at least try to study more for that class so I don't have to meet with her again?"

"Sure, Dad. Oh, I also got a C- on my Chemistry 201 paper. Can you help with that? My teacher said she'd talk with you if you came in."

Richard sighed. "Sure pumpkin, I'll go see her."

~:~

This could be a one night scene where our protagonist has to do "just one more job". Or, if you're up for it, maybe there's more?

I'm usually good for a post every other day and my story posts are usually at least three paragraphs and will go up from there. I'm not in a rush and you shouldn't be either. I have examples of my writing in my history. There's more to read on my DPPProfile page.

I only write on Reddit DMs or Google Docs. No Reddit chat, and no Discord (Google Docs with tabs is pretty good, I must say.)

Things I'd like to explore in this story: Seduction, transactional sex, crossing social boundaries, playing out porn fantasies, partially clothed sex, hold the moan, potential for sexual blackmail.

Things I don't enjoy: animals, gore, how much visitor parking costs at the university.

Each message link here.

The Goblin Gals. A trio of notorious, small statured, loud-mouthed and giggly adventurers who had formed a (somewhat surprisingly) successful adventuring party. Having built up some fame and notoriety across the Kingdom, the three were becoming quite the well-known name within the myriad of adventurer guilds.

The leader was the tallest of the trio. Known as Moxi, she often served as the face of the party, always eager to spend their hard-earned coin after another successful job. Though short, she showed strength. Her body was near-always coated in armour, though it was clearly thin. Chain and mail rather than the heavier plate many warriors relied on. At her hip rested a sword, a tiny thing compared to many, but in her grip it looked huge and powerful. Upon her back, a glistening silver shield. Her gear was always in pristine condition, the woman clearly taking good care of it, as was... well, her. She had jet black hair which was kept neatly tied into a pony tail with the bangs pushed out of the way of her eyes. It would not serve her well to be blinded mid battle, of course. Though greedy and quick to act on that trait, she was never the less always on alert. Her ears would always twitch at the slightest sound, keeping her aware of any potential dangers that lurked in the nearby area. She boasted a rather naturally pretty face, though clearly it had been through several scraps. A small scar across her cheek and above her blue eyes, shown prominently against her dark green skin. A small, button-nose and thin lips that seemed permanently curled into an amused smile or grin. She wore the role of the party leader well.

Trixi considered herself the 'second-in-command'. She was a little slimmer than their fearless leader, likely due to the fact she didn't wear such heavy armour or wield such heavy weapons. This Goblin appeared to prefer the element of surprise and agility. She had a slim waist and her body was covered in dark leathers, from her neck down to her feet. At her waist hung a pair of sharpened blades. Small, yet lethal. Her hair was a dirty blonde tied into a bun which, judging from the hood hanging down her back, she usually kept hidden along with the dark green skin of her face. Matching her lithe form was a notable lack of curves, something many would find surprising for a Goblin woman. Weren't they always known to be shortstacks? How odd. Still, one thing this Goblin never kept hidden were the dark, chocolate eyes that were constantly scanning her surroundings. Be it forest path, city street or bustling tavern, Trixi was always on the lookout for any threat, potential marks and, of course, a quick exit.

And finally there was Bixi. Out of the three, Bixi was the widest of the Goblins. Her curvier form hidden by a robe that dropped to the floor. It gave the illusion of her being wider than she actually was, the woman preferring baggier clothes, yet she couldn't help but wrap her plump, painted lips around a sweet treat following a meal! Upon her back rested a simple, wooden cane, suggesting she was talented with the arcane. Her hair, a deep, fiery red hung loosely down to her lower back, contrasting with her paler green skin compared to her two friends. Her ears were on the shorter side compared to her allies and her eyes a bright shade of purple, sparkling with intrigue and the faintest hint of the magical prowess that she boasted.

To fellow adventurers, The Goblin Gals were a massive nuisance. Swooping in, snatching up the best quests and, being guided by their natural Goblin greed, always managing to bargain for the best rewards. They were a fellow adventurer's nightmare! But if adventurers thought they had it bad, then the villainous sorts who made their homes in ruins, caves, forest manors and other such places had it worse. For if there was even the hint of treasure, The Goblin Gals were on the case. Bandits, Magi, Necromancers... Hell, even a Lich and Dragon had been bested by this trio of adventurous women! And with great success, The Goblin Gals claimed their reward in both gold and fame, rising through the ranks of the realm's known adventurers.

It is for this very reason that a new villain beginning his rise to power has set his sights on the trio as his first target. It wouldn't do very well to be bested by these nuisances before he could leave his mark upon the world and Kingdoms. Sure, The Goblin Gals had bested many a threat that had appeared before him but this villain had something the others did not. A new form of magic and trickery at his disposal. A way to lower the guards of that pesky trio and lure them into all kinds of antics... Indeed, while Orcs were known for their strength, this wizened fellow would rely on something completely different. Just what were The Goblin Gals to do when faced with the strangest, silliest, magical antics one could imagine? They were about to find out...

Welcome to my Post!

I hope you enjoyed that little spiel/preview and it caught your eye! As the title and story suggests, I am looking for something quite specific today in the fantasy setting. That being a bizarre, whimsical (and kinky) Orc with some mighty magical prowess to put these Goblin adventurers through their paces. A big theme of this will be humour and silliness, so I hope that came across through the title and general idea I have in mind. Think magical antics akin to a Saturday Morning Cartoon and you'll have the right idea!

About Me:

A little about me. Female writer who has been writing for FAR too many years at this point and my age begins with the horrific number 3. I dread the day that turns to a 4! I love roleplay and fantasy and so writing a comedic, fantasy erotic story is something I absolutely adore and wish to dive deep into with a fun, open-minded partner. I hope that can be you!

I live in sunny old Britain and am somewhat available throughout the day most days (thanks to a lot of working from home) but especially in the evenings and weekends. I write several paragraphs per post, often hitting the discord limit, but my length varies depending on the current happenings of the scene - pace is quite important, so I try not to go into too much detail about how my character pushes a door open, for example! I also only write in the 3rd person, so please be open to that!

I am seeking someone to play the male Orc opposite my characters. The race is open to discussion, as is the race of my own character(s) but I do like the theme of Goblins losing to a big, burly Orc in the most hilarious of ways!

Kinks and Themes:

Kinks wise I have a F-List that I am happy to share on request but some of my favourites are:
Transformation (variety. Body size, shape, features, naughty parts, even gender. I am open to a lot here!), size difference, non-con (painted over with a light-hearted, comical brush!), dub-con (same as non-con), humour, corruption, light hypnosis, and much more.

The big things I am looking for are, theme-wise, an open mind and a slow burn. The scene will, ideally, play out as a longer game of cat and mouse with various erotic nonsense happening throughout which leads me into my biggest kink - the male form. Now make no mistake, I am a woman who enjoys cock/shaft/dick whatever you want to call it. But I have had plenty of that in RP in the past. I am looking for someone who will play this villainous role and embrace utilising all the male form has to offer in the torment, corruption and yes, pleasure, of the characters. Bulging pectorals, thick thighs, heavy balls, even feet and especially the ass, butt, booty, backside, posterior. Manly asses are my kryptonite and I do not say that lightly. I want to play with one in a scene but I want it to be used in a dominant way - grinding, face sitting, forced rimming and more. That said, everything has to remain clean. Very important for me!

In Closing

With those strange things out of the way, this is a scene which would involve a lot of brainstorming and idea sharing. This is something I am absolutely thrilled to do, so please don't be worried about not having enough ideas. Trust me, I probably have enough to write a book at this point - maybe that will be my next step.

So if you fancy probing the mind of a weird and perverse fantasy / comical antics enjoyer, or wish to give this idea a shot, or tailor it somewhat and give that a shot, then do reach out to me. If you really want to impress me and prove you've read the whole post, include the word allakhazam. I won't say it's a password or anything like that but it's nice to see who reads all the way through, ha! I am more than happy to talk, brainstorm, whatever. Ideas do not always come to fruition but we can always see what happens.

If you do reach out, please do so by message. Unfortunately reddit chat is very buggy for me and I miss notifications/do not receive messages at times, so just to make sure nothing goes amiss.

I hope to hear from you soon!

The first meeting almost didn’t happen. She usually worked from home, but she made the trip to the office to celebrate her former protégé moving on to a better opportunity. The team threw the party at a local bar after work. She hugged her protégé, congratulated her and wished her well, and then took a seat at the bar.

She had just ordered a drink when he took a seat next to her. She recognized him as one of half-a-dozen faces on her virtual meetings. He introduced himself and expressed his pleasure at finally getting to meet her in person. As they conversed, he could barely seem to take his eyes off of her. She was flustered by the attention that she hadn’t been getting at home lately. When the party finally broke up, he told her he enjoyed the conversation and asked to exchange phone numbers. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the flutters in her chest, but against her better judgment, she agreed.

_____

One morning, months later, she took a topless selfie as she got dressed, cupping her breast with her free hand. She sent the photo to her boyfriend along with a text:

Mornin’ <3

She finished dressing and her phone dinged with a text message from him:

When can we meet?

She replied:

Not today. :( Hubby is taking me shopping.

She quickly followed it up with:

You miss me?

He responded with a dick pic. She responded with a tongue emoji.

He finally getting you those clothes? he asked.

Yup, she responded.

Send me pics later, he said.

Of course ;)

_____

She pulled a tight-looking, strapless dress off the rack. She faced her husband and held it in front of her.

“How’s this?” she asked him.

“Sure,” he nodded idly.

She rolled her eyes, put the dress back, and browsed through other garments. Just as she found a lacy nightgown, her phone dinged. She checked her phone to find a text message.

Dressing room. Third stall.

She grabbed the nightgown and told her husband “I’m gonna try this on.” She went towards the dressing room without waiting for his reply. She entered the room, finding that the third stall was the only one occupied. She knocked softly; it opened.

“Hey,” her boyfriend said.

She placed a finger over her lips as she entered, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“He’s right outside waiting for me,” she whispered. “We can’t be too loud.”

“I guess it’ll be a quick one today,” her boyfriend said.

“I guess so.”

She dropped the nightgown. And her panties.

///////////////////////////////////

I’m looking for a wife/girlfriend character for a cheating RP.

I’m interested in scenarios where the woman gets a message from her lover while she’s out with her husband/boyfriend, she runs out to meet him in the middle of her date, and fucks him under her partner’s nose. I’m not exclusive to a mall setting like in this prompt; let’s chat about how our ideal scenario would go.

Kinks: Hidden sex, public sex, muffled sex, risky creampies, spanking, hair-pulling

Limits: Scat, piss, blood, snuff

DM’s are open. Let’s have some fun.

AHEM SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS FOR ARCANE SEASON TWO

TL;DR I’m looking for a GM to run a roleplay set either in Piltover/Zaun or Runeterra at large, centered around Korrin Bellast, an orphaned child of a dead chem baron who’s made a name for himself as a charming Smuggler.)

Even before the invasion of Noxus, the Chem-Barons and Noble Houses of both Zaun and Piltover spoke of one man they could trust with the handling and distribution of their goods. From the tallest towers to the deepest mines, each of them would seek out the gentleman criminal known as ‘The Siren’. A whisper on the lips of Piltover's elites and Zaun's merchants. A smuggler with an enchanting smile and a silver tongue. If a Piltovan tinkerer wanted access to Zaunite goods and tech, you sought him out. And if anyone from the undercity wished for clean food or good water, a well-placed coin and your utmost discretion went a long way. Business had been BOOMING under the direct rule of Commander Caitlyn. Everyone wanted something, and wanted it done discretely. Yet, discretion is hard during a hostile city-wide takeover and impending apocalypse.

"Hello my friends~” A slender, delicate hand covered in jointed jewelry tapped at the handle of a hidden compartment within a ruined apartment in Piltover's lower neighborhoods. Certainly leagues of quality over the topmost Zaunite shelters of their elite, but with convenient access to the undercity. Reaching within the compartment, the porcelain fingers gently picked up a small vial of effervescent purple liquid.

Spinning it around, the ultraviolet glow illuminated the face of 'The Siren'. Most dealers reaching out to him would be surprised by his appearance. They usually face to face with a surprisingly young man, early to mid 20's, with the sly face of a fox. A pointed nose and strong chin, a handsome face! But the crooked grin, almost like a sneer, portrayed a little bit more behind his gorgeous face. A schemer, an eel, a rat. Not malicious, but self-serving and survival-focused. His hair is a gorgeous shoulder-length mane of Turquoise, which has made it HELL to not be associated with those ridiculous revolutionaries, even after her supposed death. His silver eyes rolled up in just remembering them.

Korrin Belast was the only one of his siblings who had made a name for himself. What was there for children of a minor chembaron assassinated in the dead of night? His brothers were either shimmer addicts or dead from trivial gang wars. And his sisters, smarter than his meathead brothers, were still only low-level gangers and bangers. Korrin was the only one with enough wit and guile to build up a semblance of their former fortune, with a reputation all on his own. A devastatingly disarming smile, tailored compliments, and a fox's cunning were perfect for keeping alive in the undercity, but thrive in these war-torn streets. Everyone was more desperate than ever for the services he provided, which meant he had to be more careful than ever.

Taking his small vial and pressing down on the spritzer, the blend of perfume and the smallest drop of shimmer settled into his body. It was a method of hiding the stench of Zaun's chemicals upon him, and a way of distracting curious enforcers who had gotten too close. It had worn off in the last week he had spent in Piltover's holding cells while his home was raided and investigated for goods, replaced by blood and sweat from his interrogations at the hands of Piltover’s enforcers. They had let him go once they had split from the Invading Force, knowing they had bigger fish to fry. Though, Kory had never lost his sly grin amongst the beatings, his words never any less biting as their frustration just made him enjoy himself.

Pocketing his 'calling card', the young criminal hissed through his teeth picking up a chair tossed to the floor, and sat down upon it. His ribs were still bruised, and he was being careful to not smudge the makeup blended over his black eye from that damned noxian soldier that clocked him looting. It was so difficult to explain away his own hair thanks to that fucking terrorist. It wasn't even the right shade as all of those other hopefuls and fools trying to make a statement, but it was close enough for an excuse to treat him like a conspirator.

It would take some time to get his former abode back in a livable state. And he'd have to take some time before accepting his next shipment up to topside, focusing on bringing things down to his hideaway there than bring anything back up. His high-collared blue coat hung around his slight shoulders, it's neon purple and pink insides gilded between the lines with a fake gold thread. The midriff was merely held together by black wrappings, showing off the femininity of his waist and hips. Again, another tactic of distraction. Korrin wasn't ashamed he'd slept his way through some altercations, and he would likely try the same tactic again in the future.

While bodies fall on both sides of a war, no one ever thinks that it is the cockroaches who survive to be the winners of the conflict. But it was hard to deny that THIS cockroach wasn't taking every opportunity the chaos provided him.

His eyes fall upon a small envelope stuck from the lowest drawer in the desk. Not thrown about or confiscated. Placed with great purpose, meant to be seen. Who could be requesting his services? Someone from the Sister Cities? A Noxian Commander? An Ionian mage? Perhaps a salesperson of The Freljord, or Bilgewater? With a smile of curiosity, those gilded fingers sliced open the letter. The Siren was back in business. (End.)

Ohhhhhhhkay! I hope you all enjoyed that VERY long opener, and because of that, I’m going to try to keep this section a little shorter.

In terms of a partner, I’m looking for someone to take on a GM role! The scale of this story is up to what you’re looking for. I’d you’d like, we can remain in Piltover and Zaun, explaining the aftermath of Ambessa’s takeover and disappearance of Hextech. Or, we can expand to the implications across the world! Who’s seeking for the management and distribution of goods now that the Hexgates are shut? Let’s expound and build where the finale left off!

As for other characters, I’m a-okay for sexually interacting with all kinds of bodies and build. I am more particular about hair manly cis men, but they’re never an outright no! But all genders are welcome, and since Runeterra’s got magic, monsters are on the table as well.

Looking forward to talking more soon!

I am 18+ and all participants and characters must be 18+

« Life as a criminal is stressful sometimes. Even when you do get to relax there’s so much to worry about. And especially when you’re the head of a huge crime family, operating in more than one country! Sure you have billions of dollars, the ability to mostly do whatever you want whenever you want, a huge lavish home and incredible amounts of expensive possessions…But nobody to share it with! You can’t trust most people of course, they’d simply steal from you. Seek to gain wealth off you, especially the temptresses that tend to frequent men of your stature and profession. You need a woman you can trust. A woman you can control. A woman you have a proper existing bond with! And strangely you know the perfect one…the beautiful Batgirl who’s been pursuing you and trying to put you behind bars Since she arrived in town. She's feisty and masculine And after discovering her identity, the penguin knew he had found the perfect formula for the ideal Obedient little bird… 

Several weeks later, Barbara Gordon, once the fearless Batgirl, now found herself ensnared in the twisted web of the Penguin’s manipulation. Weeks of blackmail, training, and re-education had transformed her into his obedient little bird, her once fierce spirit subdued into submission, her femininity accentuated to serve his every whim. In the opulent dining hall of the Penguin’s mansion, the air was thick with an aura of power and control. Barbara Gordon, once the fearless Batgirl, swept into the room like a vision of elegance and submission, her transformation into the Penguin’s little bird complete.

Her gown, a masterpiece of pink satin and lace, hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her newfound femininity. The corset bodice cinched her waist, emphasizing her hourglass figure, while the delicate gloves adorning her hands added a touch of refinement. Her makeup, expertly applied, highlighted her features with a sultry allure, her cherry lips a striking contrast against her porcelain skin. And around her neck, a choker collar adorned with sparkling diamonds, engraved with the words “Little Bird,” a testament to her servitude to her master.

As Barbara approached the Penguin, who held court at the head of the table, his associates turned their attention to the stunning redhead in awe. Gone was the tomboy heroine they once knew, replaced by a vision of submission and obedience that left them spellbound.

With a subtle gesture, the Penguin welcomed Barbara to his side, his touch possessive as he delicately took her gloved hand in his own. As she seated herself at his command, he leaned in, his hand gently cupping her chin as he bestowed a tender kiss upon her red lips. In a voice barely above a whisper, Barbara murmured “I’ve missed you daddy. Your little bird is bored without you.” » With a delicate touch, the Penguin took Barbara’s gloved hand, his gesture possessive yet tender as he introduced her to his astonished companions. “Gentlemen,” he announced with a smirk, “allow me to present my dear little bird, Barbara.”

Hello ! Would anyone be interested in doing a detailed rp where the penguin (you) discovers batgirl’s identity and decides to blackmail her into working in his club at night and becoming his submissive and obedient little bird. (no one liner, and long term) Sub4Dom

I’d love to play a prompt where an incredibly wealthy and successful mob boss like the penguin decides he needs a trophy wife to share his life and wealth with! So he kidnaps an incredibly successful and beautiful young up and coming Heroine to become his pampered, spoiled doll. She’s so pretty after all. Best not to waste that aspect of her doing hero stuff when she could be living a life of luxury in a golden bird cage. She’s like a pet. A bird. So pretty, delicate and needing to be kept safe! Anybody that dares harm his pretty bird? They’d have him to answer to….

I would like to make a rp where a tomboy heroine finds herself trapped in a brand new environment that is unknown to her where she will have to learn to adapt to it. The idea is to emphasize her new life as the property of a powerful and intimidating man in the rp for example with the clothes she will wear as his concubine or the things she will have to do.

Indeed one of the things I expect from this rp is the training and the formation she will receive to make her his perfect Princess, obedient, graceful and feminine, in short everything she would have hated to become! Maybe her master will decide to give her a new pet name? Maybe she will be forced to stay still and silent for hours, tied up or in an unpleasant position to learn respect and discipline? Maybe she will be Forced to act like a cute four-legged pet or dance to entertain her master? So many possibilities and don't hesitate to give me your ideas!

The idea of this rp is really to have the classic pattern of a beautiful heroine falling into the hands of a (disgusting), perverted man. I want the rp to have a slow build up and break down so that there is eventually some sort of Stockholm syndrome, I also want Barbara to be fully aware of what is happening to her but unable to do anything about it, making things even more interesting. If you don't want to use the Penguin, no problem! I'd love to hear your ideas! Maybe a yakuza or a mafia mob or something else? In this rp the main themes will be feminization/blackmail and corruption, the idea is really for me to turn her from a tomboyish, feisty heroine into a sexy, girly trophy wife belonging to the man she hated the most.

The aim of this RP is to provide an in-depth look at the life of a mob’s trophy wife, especially Barbara, who will become his most prized possession. She will learn to accompany him to major events and to be displayed like the rare little bird for all to see, making her master proud and even more powerful.

I'd like to start at the top, before my character ends up so broken and submissive. We could explore her trials and humiliations, following along as she gradually realizes being a good girl is her best option.

So for the main kinks of this rp I was thinking of: -Petplay (bird-kitty-puppy) -Force Feminine sexy Clothing -light Bondage -NonCon fantasies (, blackmail, forced, unwillingly) -kinky play -slave training -Misogyny/feminization/domestication/reeducation -Gags -Slavery/ugly bastard/stockholm syndrome -Slow breaking/forced romance -Orgams denial/cum play -sugar daddy kink/spoiling -Vibrators, buttplugs and other sex toys -humiliation/Ddlg -corset/high heel sexy costume -collar/leashes: anal,breaking, corruption, makeover, , brainwashing, outfit/makeup/haircut control, Limits: vore, incest, feet, vomit, shrinking. I just like when proud tomboy heroines are forced to dress as girly, slutty ^^

Please send a detailed message (PM) of what you expect from the rp, your kinks and limits as well as your idea for the rp. Also include the words "My Precious New Little Bird" so I know you read everything

The more exciting, vivid, and creative you are, the better chance you have at getting a response.

The executives of Pierce Inc whispered to one another about the previous night's "event".... None dared say too much about any of it lest they draw the ire of the Pierce Family....

Word had gone out to the Executive management of the Security Breach and that the situation was being assessed... Most were on their way to Pierce Tower to coordinate as such security breaches brought with them a myriad of problems they knew they would have to manage.... Only to have the "all clear" signal sent within 30-minutes of the initial alert.

Such Breaching Protocols were rarely sent so swiftly, not even in drills. Executives tended to be somewhat versed in Cybersecurity standards the modern era forcing them to know the basics in order to rise to the top of a cutting-edge corporation like Pierce Inc..... They knew if there was a Breach big enough to have needed an alert then there would be days if not weeks' worth of triage and inventory to ensure their specific divisions were safe and secured let alone the months after in investigations as to how and why the breach occurred.... And yet they had been given the all clear...

All executives still arrived at Pierce Tower imagining the "All Clear" signal to be a ruse or mistake..... They were met by Patrick's sister and his uncle the CFO Randall Pierce who debriefed them all in the most basic terms.

Randall taking the lead while the lovely smile did little to hide the cold wrath that emanated from the face of Ms. Pierce... Her mere presence in Patrick's stead serving as his Proxy would eliminate any questions or arguments from these powerful men and women. None would dare draw the gaze of Ms. Pierce when her ire was raised. So Randall spoke.

" At 11:00 this evening our network was breached. By 11:03 the breach was detected and containment measures began. The hacker had dropped multiple viruses to create havoc in the system while they copied files and stole data.... By 11:13 the viruses were wiped and by 11:20 the hacker was discovered to be a netrunner-level actor.... Our cybersecurity experts isolated the infiltrator and by 11:30 the connection cut. 11:33 after a multi-level sweep we sent the all-clear signal out... We know the information that has been taken, and the means in which the Netrunner was able to infiltrate our system.... The Netrunner has been apprehended and taken to the authorities for interrogation and punishment so what we need from you moving forward is to correct any rumor... We were attacked by the very best our rivals could offer and we mitigated all major damage and minimized the impact which is a testament to our policy and countermeasures.... Please begin a thorough sweep as is protocol after such an event to ensure all staff is up to date on the web security policies, all passwords need to be changed and updated, and do a thorough inventory to ensure nothing was missed in our sweeps... Thank you and good night..."

With that the pair left and the executives assembled whispered.... A Netrunner was the top of the line in Cyber-Warfare... The Elite Mercenary Hackers with the very best equipment and skills. Many companies whom the Netrunners attack don't even realize they've been infiltrated and their coffers pilfered. So to detect one, stop one, and capture one.... It was rare and impressive to say the least. If they can get the Hacker to name their employer that alone would be enough to convict the company under various corporate espionage violations.

This would be the talk of the office for the next few weeks. Theories and questions on how it happened... Then it would spread to the dark web and beyond... Netrunners would know the truth that one of their own had been taken and they would all tighten up and look to Pierce Inc with new eyes... Thanks to recent laws passed internationally Netrunners due to their catastrophic capabilities were not granted the same rights most others had.... Interrogations were closer to that of POWs suspected of war crimes.... Physical coercion was not off the table nor illegal.

No doubt that was on this specific Netrunner's mind as the blackness overtook her moments after her connection had been severed and she fled to her safehouse to make her exit....

Pierce Officials knew she had taken her targeted data and it had been transmitted into the net lost amid the chaos of the net so she accomplished her mission... And she even escaped... So no doubt she was shocked when she arrived at her safe house to hide out before making her anonymous escape to feel the sting of the dart into her neck and the numbness that followed as the booted feet of the retrieval team come into view from the shadows the darkness of the black bag overhead and the last words before unconsciousness found her was.

"Take her to his Warehouse.. Mr. Pierce will deal with her personally."

________________________________________________________________________

When she woke the bag was still over her head but she was on her back. The chill on her flesh told her she had been stripped of all save her bra and panties. Her hands were bound at the wrists, her feet at her ankles. The soft hum in her ears was of fluorescent lights and a soft scent of bleach, mildew, and moisture spoke of somewhere old, and sterile... A Black Ops site perhaps?

Did she know of the rumors of Patrick's Warehouse?

The whispered location Mr. Pierce had made where all his perverse and sordid fantasies were fulfilled?

Surely it was all a rumor, wasn't it?

The soft sound of a metal door opening and slamming closed echoed through the vast room. Hard leather-soled shoes clicked on the cement floor as he walked, the slow scrape of a chair pulling to the front of her. A slow mechanical pneumatic sound emitted and she'd feel the vertigo of the table she had been laying on tilt so that she was soon upright. Still strapped to the table by the wrists and ankles she was restrained and suspended as a smooth, deep, eloquent voice cut through the air and into her ears.

~ Good evening.... I know you are up..... I think we both know now what you are... By now I think you are starting to understand your predicament here... A netrunner in the possession of a Corpo with all legal authority to do what I'd like to get the information I need... So... Take a moment... When you are ready, tell me your name... Tell me who hired you.. Tell me your contact information, and association... And then if I am satisfied we will move to the next parts...~

The words and demands were simple, standard, and reasonable.

Of course she would be burning her contacts which was the ultimate betrayal in her line of business, but what choice did she have?

Were Patrick in her position he would be thinking of the few examples of Netrunners who dared defy the interrogation... They all broke in time and the ones that survived were crippled, maimed, blinded, and husks of meat compared to what they were before... Would she select that fate for herself?

==================================================================

OOC: Good day and hello!

I am looking for this idea to be filled obviously I took some homage from Cyberpunk but really the goal is to develop what Netrunners become in that future. This the first of many steps to that goal.

About me as a player I am a 41M in the EST looking for a player at least 21+ to play opposite of.

I play 3rd person Novella/Advanced Lit as you can see in this above prompt, I average 1,200 word posts per reply and seek a partner that can do at least half that consistently.

I also prefer a hefty amount of banter and plotting between replies, to which I try to do 2-3 per week depending on the activity and enthusiasm of my partner!

My phone vibrated in my pocket, a rare call from my best friend. I slipped away from the noise and chaos, picking it up with a worried "What's wrong?"

Andrea rushed to reassure me. “Nothing, I promise! Just...do you mind if I bring a friend to dinner? I just found out he’s got no family in the area, was going to spend Thanksgiving alone. And I know how much your parents like taking in strays.”

I pinched my nose, ducking my head down. As much as I kinda hated it just then, she was right– my mother would love it if she got to dote on someone stuck here with no family. “Yeah, that’s fine. We made enough for an army anyway, a last-minute addition should be no problem.”

“Great, thanks. See you in a few.”

I hung up, hustling to let Mom know that Andrea was bringing an extra mouth to feed. As expected she was ecstatic but frantic, sweeping me and a few others into those last-minute tasks before dinner went out. When Andrea’s voice rang out from the foyer, I glanced up to see my mother bustle out of the kitchen.

It was fair to assume that mom would settle both you and Andrea in the back room before coming back; instead you shuffled into the kitchen behind her, looking around like you’d never seen a disaster like this before. “...and this is Ellie.” As politeness dictated, I shut the oven and stood up, crossing the small space with an outstretched hand. It took nearly everything I had not to shamelessly look you up and down, and the rest of it to keep from biting my lip. Instead I smiled, fitting my hand into yours and giving it a brief shake. A wonderfully deep bass filled the small room as you introduced yourself. I felt it against my skin, had a flash of my name on those lips in bed. Fuck. Sparkling blue eyes caught mine, and I had a feeling you knew exactly what had just happened and were very used to it.

You’re such a sucker, Ellie.

Gently I shooed you out of the kitchen, taking a moment to watch that lovely backside disappear into the living room. A few minutes later we sat down to dinner, and of course you sat down across from me. I didn't want to participate in whatever matchmaking scheme Andrea had cooked up, so I let my grandmother and sister pull me deep into conversation. But you kept catching my eye and smiling. Your voice knifed through the din, so easily reaching across the table that we had no choice but to loop you in. You were charming, witty, funny, and you had my mother eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. Actually, I think you had my mother eating out of the palm of your hand the second she opened the door. The woman was blushing. She never blushed.

I’d never seen such a charm offensive in my life. And worse, it was working. I wanted to get my hands on you so badly I ached with it, and so I did the only thing I could think to do: I escaped.

After dinner Andrea found me in the spare bedroom, pacing in front of the pile of coats. “Will you fucking relax, Ellie? Your jaw is clenched so tight I'm surprised you haven't broken teeth.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” I hissed back, glancing into the hall. It looked like the bathroom was occupied, but otherwise we were alone.

Andrea sighed, exasperation and irritation and anger all rolled into one sound. “There’s nothing going on, you paranoid weirdo. He’s cute, he’s single, and the entire house can see that he likes you. C’mon, Rachel was three years ago. I know you’re not getting any. Just unfuck your head and get in the game.”

I snorted. “Easy for you to say. You know, ever since you settled down into domestic bliss you've been awfully obnoxious about my sex life.”

"She's been obnoxious about mine, too."

Andrea glanced over my shoulder. “You have lovely timing."

I couldn't help but groan, scrubbing a hand over my face before turning to face you. You leaned on the doorjamb, your expression shadowed by the light falling in from the hall. I would have sworn I could pick out the barest hint of a smile.

"I appreciate the backup. The eavesdropping? Not so much."

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it. I've been told I've got a bit of a white knight thing sometimes."

"Not an excuse," Andrea murmured as she slipped past you out into the hall. "But just this once, I'll allow it. Behave yourselves, now."

“Behave yourselves, she says. I don't think I believe her when she says this wasn't planned.” I crossed my arms over my chest defensively.

"She talks about you all the time. I had to see for myself," you said softly, light limning those wonderfully broad shoulders. I had the nearly uncontrollable urge to bite them.

My eyebrows lifted as disappointment welled up. "Ah."

You pushed off the doorjamb, taking a few steps into the room. "Look, I wasn't lying. My family is in Alaska, and I couldn't make it home because I'm broke from moving. I didn't tell Andrea until today, and she called you before I could register an objection." Now it was your turn to look uncomfortable, and you gave a tight shrug. "I did ask to meet you, and the idea of spending the holiday with a big family like yours… I couldn't pass it up."

"So here we are."

"Here we are."

I took a moment to study you, stepping close enough to catch a hint of spice in the air. Why did you smell so good? My resolve couldn't withstand both the heady scent and the clearly penitent look on your face, your hunched shoulders. So I reached out, laying a hand on the curve of your bicep and watching that tension slide away. "You're fine, I probably would've done the same. And besides, having strangers at the table is practically a family tradition." I stepped closer, hesitated… then pressed a kiss to your stubbly cheek before my courage failed me. "C'mon, the last thing I want is for someone to notice we've both gone missing at the same time. I'll never hear the end of it.”

Well, it's that time of year again--looking for some holiday-themed warm and fuzzy roleplay. This prompt is a one-shot, but open to something long term if we click. Please be willing to write at least a few sentences per post, as I can be long-winded.

I was recently reading something that took place in Oslo, and it reminded me that I researched grad schools in Oslo. This set up takes place there but it could be swapped out. This is written from your (M) point of view, although if we continue it may make more sense for me to switch to my own (F) POV.

It's the late afternoon and you're in a cozy bar that's starting to fill in with people, having a drink alone. It's the kind of place that's got a lot of nooks and crannies, with intimate conversations going on but a lovely spirit.

You see two women enter together. One of them is me. I'm sweet and curvy, wrapped up in a chunky knit sweater and a pleated skirt. I've got tights on and loafers, the whole outfit giving a warm autumnal vibe. My tights are semi sheer, and you get a sense of my creamy white skin underneath.

The other woman is older, maybe 50. She's got a severe look, and she pointedly sits me down in a little alcove. You have a partial view of us as she leaves me for a minute to order drinks. In the down time I don't look at my phone, I just take in the ambiance. Bobbing my head and scanning the room. I briefly scan past you, but we don't lock eyes.

When my date comes back we have an intimate conversation that's punctuated by laughter and big smiles, but also some burying of my face in my hands. She holds my attention tightly, so you find you can gaze freely at me as you please. Do you stare or just circle back to me from time to time? I don't know, I don't even register that you're there.

After about a half hour my date gets up and puts on her jacket. Then for the first time in the evening, she touches me. She reaches a hand towards my face. She gently pats the underside of my chin with two fingers, causing my eyes to rise and my face to tilt up. As those two fingers rest under my chin, the thumb of the same hand runs briefly over my plump lips.

She says something that makes me blush and then she's gone. I'm lost in thought for some unknown amount of time before I sense nearby movement. You approach and ask if you can join me.

I'm a little glassy eyed, so you aren't surprised when I accept the suggestion without much thought.

We get to talking and I tell you that I'm a grad student and the woman is my professor. She's trying to persuade me to stay on for another few years to assist in her work, instead of going corporate. When I finally tell you her name, you sputter a bit. Yes you know if her - she's a controversial figure in Oslo. A feminist pornographer from the dawn of the internet. although time has brought more people onto her side, you recall rumors that swirled around her and the fleet of beautiful female grad students who she kept on rotation. You wonder if you misjudged the air of girlish naivety around me, given the company I keep.

You're up getting us a fresh round when you look back at me and see that the pleats of my skirt have risen up slightly, revealing a sliver of milk pale thigh. The tights, it seems, were actually mock stockings. They encircle the waist like normal tights, but then are cut away so there's just two straps per leg. Those straps connect with a thigh high stockings, all one piece of fabric. You suspect that I put them on first this morning, and then pulled my panties on over them, allowing ease of access for both practical and sensuous reasons.

When you sit down this time the vibe has changed, my school thoughts fading away. Your hand finds a natural rest on my thigh, stroking absentmindedly. I try to casually peak but our bodies are cast in shadow now and there's bulky coats in the way. I suspect you've been under my hemline for a few minutes, but I get my confirmation when your fingertips make contact with my bare thighs.

Right along the elastic line of my stockings, where my plump thighs are bulging just slightly. You glide so smoothly that I trip over my word and close my eyes, before collecting myself like a chill went up my spine.

You're rhythmically stroking my bare skin now, inches from my sleepy kitty. I'm struggling to keep talking and you pretend like you don't know why, asking me "and then what?" and other burdensome questions. I play along briefly before simply stopping talking and staring into your eyes.

I'm not sure exactly what would happen here. If you would fill the ensuing silence with sweet nothings. Or perhaps you'd shift into dirty talk, see if I'll play along with something more aggressive. Or maybe you just let the quiet ride out, making easy eye contact and enjoying the warmth growing more apparent near your hand by the moment.

However you get there, eventually the moment comes when you gently place your hand on top of my panties. Your thumb rests on top of my mound, providing an anchor for your fingers to cup above the curve of my pussy. You gently press down on the puffy lips that are protecting my sweet buried clit.

At the first pressure, down and then released, I breathe in and out with you. It's noisy in the bar but we both know what sound we would be hearing if things were quiet enough. The squishy popping bubble sounds of thick glossy wetness being pressed through a fluffy neat layer of soft pubic hair and then a denser layer of thin white cotton. You feel the wet spot form under your fingers and I feel the squishy feeling of the first globs of arousal being beckoned out of me.

I blushed intensely and lower my eyes so I'm staring at your chest. Then, for the second time, I feel two fingers tapping under my chin, asking me to raise my face towards them. I look up at you with dreamy soft eyes, and you roll your thumb over my lips. You've got my held ever so lightly in two places, but I feel completely enraptured.

TL:DR, A college nerd buys a cheap dating sim game based on Warhammer’s chaos gods. It’s a classic creepypasta posessed game, that leaks into his real world! 4th wall breaks, mind-bending horrors beyond comprehension, dates with girls who constantly shift from cutesy to horrific to deformed, yet all seeking attention and affection.]

“Huh. Novel.” Travis chuckled as he browsed through the Valve Halloween Sale. One of the cheapest games was called “The Great Game”, an absolute violation of copyrights, by being a dating simulator blatantly stealing from the Warhammer franchise. The 0.99$ price tag was appealing, but he was still interested in checking out the description.

Suffer the throes of The Warp, and LOVE!???!??! Enter the idyllic seaside town of- Weird. The description was glitched. What followed was a short bit of corrupted text, clearly just gibberish. Coming to town for vacation, it’s time to let the void shields of your heart down and let these divine dames inside to FEAST ON YOUR FLESH! Take them on dates, offer them worship and sacrifice, buy them presents, and win their unwavering and unfaltering attention as the all vie for the largest portion of your soul! How romantic!

Already bored, he blasted through the following paragraphs, only taking in some occasional words like “contract for your soul”, “forgo the rights to your pelvis”, “nurgle will not be cleaning her clothes”, yadayadayada. With a soft raised eyebrow, he scrolled back up to the top and watched the price fall down in real time. 88. 77. 66. 55 cents! Now, Travis simply HAD to buy it. With a quick click, sad reflection at his dwindling budget for the week, he got up to get ready for the day while the game downloaded.

Taking a look around his studio apartment, he took in a deep breath. Nothing special. Nothing beyond the bare necessities, the occasional piece of nerdy memoribilia. But it was home. Standing up from his gaming PC, he took to his clothes rack and put on another standard outfit. A t-shirt with a vague logo on it, though today he added a second layer of a bright pink hawaiian button up, and some flavor of cargo shorts. He never had a fashion sense, and often dressed for comfort. His rectangular blue spectacles hung askew on his face, long due for a replacement he couldn’t afford.

Hopping back in his comfortable rolling chair, he opened up the file and opened the game. From a black screen with a grey eight-pointed star in the center, a purple and pink menu loaded in with voices saying “The Great Game”! An audio file must have been corrupted. There were four romance options, and yet he heard more than that when the title was read. Well, it was only half a buck. Clicking through the setup, he settled in to the small session he could fit in before his next set of classes. It was pretty cute! The girls were well-designed, at least. Khorne was a buff, rowdy, comically bone-headed tomboy jock. Tzeentch was an eccentric shut-in, who liked to infodump about seemingly random tidbits of information. Slaanesh was the campus ‘party girl’ with a total tsundere vibe. And Nurgle was a pudgier, gamer-best-friend and shut in type of girl with a truly massive green hoodie.

There wasn’t really much to complain about, but not much to rave about either. After the initial set up, he closed out of the program and threw the strap of his book bag onto his shoulder. A million eyes watched him from every inch of shadow as he left his apartment and slammed the door behind him. Feeling lightheaded, Travis leaned against the railing while taking the stairs down to his bus stop to his college.

On the ride over, the large young man sank into his corner seat, earbuds playing the soundtrack to one of his favorite games. Like normal, the bus he was on drove under a bridge, casting darkness over them, and changing the world as they passed through the other side. As they passed through the light, mold and rust and seeped into the panels, every other rider now a rotting and bloated cadaver. A rancid stench filled his lungs and wrenched out a coughing fit, yet, once his eyes opened back up, everything was normal.

Shaken, once he stepped on campus, he hurriedly made his way to his composition class for his Animation Degree. Mild construction on his usual route. Damn. Hopping around the block, a sudden traffic jam prevented him from safely heading to his backup route. Turned around, his attention was caught by a hummingbird, flittering past a woman sitting below a tree. She seemed aloof and reclusive, so he made his questions about where to go quickly. The girl answered coldly and quietly, with both a matter-of-factness and sly smile just odd enough to make him doubt her. Thanking her nonetheless, he rushed to his class, following her directions to get to the building on time.

Hopping into one of the elevators, he made a curt nod to a student already in there, before pressing the button to the correct floor. On the ride up, the box shook violently, sending the purple and pink-clad student tumbling forward. In a moment, she spilled a cup of scalding hot coffee on his chest. He screamed in pain as his shirt was now steaming, burning morning joe rolling down his stomach. Before he could recover, he felt her body push against his, hands cupping his crotch and beginning to massage it without remorse. The conflict between his burnt skin and the pleasure caused him to short circuit for a few moments, until the door opened and… she was gone. The coffee, the pain. All gone.

Something was fucking wrong. Getting into class, he was covered in a nervous, cold sweat. He didn’t even notice the butch woman next to him roughly shove a piece of paper in his pocket before leaning over and gripping his ass. With a jump, he checked out the words on the paper. “We’re going out now.”

WHAT IN THE WORLD IS HAPPENING!?

Sorry for that! I know that was a crazy stupid long intro, but I hope you understood by the end why I couldn’t really keep it short. This roleplay is a lot of things, and I don’t think for a lot of people. That being said, hope you understand the vibe I’m going for! Little bit of Eldritch Horror, little bit of Doki Doki Literature Club, and some game/real world crossovers in a reality bending rom-com! (Maybe not always funny, but Nurgle’s laughing.)

We’ll be following the courtship of animation student and gentle giant, Travis O’Brien! After making a contract unknowingly by purchasing a cheap dating sim game, Travis is now the center of a courtship game between the gods of the Warhammer universe! Khorne, God of Blood, Violence, and Honor. Tzeentch, God of trickery, deceit, and knowledge. Nurgle, God of Pestilence, Decay, and Finality. And Slaanesh, God of Unspeakable Excess. These beings are now in a divine pissing contest over who can win over this mortal’s heart.

Problem is? They’re still horrific, unscrutable gods of chaos. Sure, they’ll SOMETIMES take their video game forms. But maybe they’ll possess someone Travis knows. Or a total stranger. Or as a gust of breeze. Or the sound of heavy laughter. Or mind/meltingly horrifying paradoxes of reality. Let’s get weird with this shit, y’know? Have sex with a concept shit.

All kinks are negotiable, limits aren’t!

Kinks: Groping, teasing, romance, affection, non/dub con, stalking, sneaky sex, public sex, clothed sex, outercourse, milking, overstimulation, bruising, marking, mild pain, bondage, spanking, pegging, creampies, facesitting, group sex, posessiveness, horror, rimming, toys, demons, unconventional sex, and some more. Less popular: Sweat, Musk, Watersports, Armpits Limits: Chastity, Cuckold, Sexual Gore, Sexual Violence, Needles, Scat, Diapers, Smegma, Dirty Feet, Torture, Guro, and Snuff.

Hope to talk soon!

Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, thoughts of you come unbidden to my mind’s surface. I try to resist them as best as I can but, I eventually admit defeat and surrender to the insistence of memory. Then, I’m no longer in the city, no longer in the farmhouse, it's no longer winter… and I’m with you again…

It was one of those perfect hot summer days where the heat of the sun was a steady warmth only briefly interrupted by a fat cloud sluggishly moving in front of its path. Both of us are lying on the grass allowing the sun and the steady breeze to dry our naked bodies, wet from a dip in the lake. I was stroking the hair at the back of your neck while you traced circles around the muscles of my stomach - you enjoyed making me laugh so that they would tense under your hand.

We had been camping out by the lake for a few weeks now, the two of us freshly graduated from college - going on a “Guy’s Trip” into the wilderness. But it was an escape for the both of us. Neither of us were out - we couldn’t be. We didn’t talk much about it but we could guess at each other’s circumstances: conservative families, intolerant fathers, expectations about marriage - I, in particular, was on the verge of taking over my father's farm from him. Talking seriously about those impediments shattered our peace - and so we never discussed them.

And now, here by the lake, we were free.

Your hand reached down between my legs and my lips stretched out into a smile as I grabbed your body and pulled it closer to me. You smiled in that mischievous way which I had come to recognize as you got on your hands and knees. You were still looking at me as your lips closed around my dick…

Moments later, with my skin salty with sweat and sweet with cum sprayed over my stomach and chest, you rested your head on my chest after you finished kissing or licking me clean. I wondered which one of us would be the first to say it.

“We should start packing up tomorrow.

“I know.” There was a long moment of silence.

“I don’t want to go back.” I didn’t answer you. I forced the hot burning feeling of tears back as I got up, moving your body away from me.

“I’m going for a dip to clean off.” I ran away without waiting for your response, diving into the cool water…

And then I was back at the farm. Five years later. Sometimes I’d masturbate to the memories I had of you, my breath catching in the back of my throat as I remembered you on top of me, and I’d let out a long contented sigh as I came, shooting spurts of cum over my chest and letting it cool - missing the feeling of your tongue lapping up the accumulating pool above my crotch. Sometimes I managed to shower - more often I fell asleep that way, dreaming of you.

One morning I woke up to an email from you. We didn’t have each other’s phone numbers - not since you moved away.

‘Dear John: It’s been a while. I’ve been back in town for nearly a month now (starting a new job) and I’ve been too nervous about whether or not I should contact you. But I saw you at the farmer's market yesterday (or at least someone who looked like you), and I’m taking it as a sign. Can we meet? For coffee, or lunch, or a beer? I hope so.’

I put my phone down and held my face in my hands. I was conscious of the engagement ring on my finger - my fiancée’s name was Samantha, but you didn’t know about her. When we went down different paths after that summer, years ago, I had thought that we knew that it would be the last time we saw each other. We would be left with those memories of the sun, the lake, and our bodies next to each other. I had started a new life, and I’d hoped that you had started your own - and I even dared to hope that both of us would be just as happy as we were with each other and the memories would grow more faded over time. But now you’re here. I put the thoughts of Samantha out of my mind and replied to you,

“Let’s get a beer this Friday. Here’s my number…”

------------------------------------------------

Hello everyone! I am looking for an RP partner who can help write this story with me of my character - John- and yours reconnecting after years spent apart and dealing with the memories of their past fling together, but also with their changed circumstances. John, of course, is engaged to be married. What about your character? Has he fully come out? Maybe he’s also struggling with his own baggage. Whatever it is though, this story will contain a lot of angst as well as breakthrough moments of romance (and of course smut). But I’d really like to find someone who is capable of writing well for this. If you DM me a sample of your writing (maybe your character spotting John at the market - doesn’t have to be long), that would be great. But also feel free to just come with ideas, I don’t mind.

Kinks: Romance, slowburn, realistic dynamics, straight/gay, anal, oral, muscle worship, size difference, dom/sub, powerbottom, submissive top, aftercare, armpits, cock worship, risky sex (public), verbal sex, passionate/rough sex, dirty talking, interracial, licking, watersports, facials, etc.

Limits: ageplay, underage, feminization, bestiality, scat.

"What do you think about him?" I asked my husband, Ethan. Turning the phone to see the picture sent to me on Reddit.

"He's big, but I don't like the way he's already demanding stuff from you," My husband answered, looking up at the screen as he played his Switch on the living room TV.

"I know, but look at this dick!" I insisted, zooming in on the pic to show the size and girth of his massive black cock.

"Look, it's important we pick someone we are both comfortable with," Ethan said, pausing the game to look up at me, sitting next to me on the couch.

I snuggled up in his arms, "You're right, it is," I said, kissing him and cuddling into his chest. Ethan and I had been together for a while but only married for a year. Our relationship was nearly perfect; the only issue we struggled with was that we were both submissive in bed. With a bit of online research, we eventually got into cuckolding; it was the perfect middle ground for us both.

It started out pretty innocent; I'd give him a hand job talking about guys I found hot or how much I loved sleeping with my exes. Sometimes, we'd play online games together, throw the match, and happily listen as he got called names and insulted. Then I'd jump in, apologize profusely, and promise to make it up to them with a few naughty pics. They were more than happy to agree; who wouldn't want a pic of a pretty Asian chick? On my knees, my mini skirt pulled up to reveal my cute bubble butt and a black lace thong in the mirror. I could tell he loved seeing the reactions from these strangers; they'd always go crazy over me, begging for more pics or sexting. It was fun, but it was only a prelude to what we both wanted: to see me with another guy.

The months went on, and we found it increasingly difficult to find the right guy. I needed someone tall and handsome, with a big dick and the common sense to respect my boundaries. Ethan wanted someone to care for me before, during, and after. And someone who could really degrade him but wouldn't leave him feeling humiliated after the sex had ended. He still had some pride, after all, and wanted to be able to be his friend.

We just couldn't find the right fit; some guys were too into the idea of being a bull, which turned us off. Other guys were down to hookup but wanted to avoid playing into our fantasy. This proved to be more challenging than we anticipated, and searching, screening, and talking to potential candidates felt more like a part-time job. However, we were committed to finding the right guy for this role.

"Wait, what if we..." I hesitated, then asked Ethan, "what if we 'train' a guy to be our Bull?"

"Train?" he asked, looking over at me.

"Yeah! I could start 'dating' a guy, sort of like a friends with benefits type of thing, and eventually bring him over and we could ease him into the idea," I explained, "as long as he's comfortable, we can have him do whatever we want!"

"Hmm, isn't that kind of manipulative? Don't you think the guy should know what he's getting into?"

"Well yeah, but at worst he says no and got a few nights of free sex. No loss for him." Ethan sat and considered the idea, his eyes drifting up as he contemplated it. "Besides, you could get to know him before too! Pretend to be my brother, maybe a friend, or a roommate. We'll figure it out!"

"I guess that could work," he said, still thinking, "but that's a lot of effort you'll be putting in."

"For us, baby," I said, smiling and kissing him, "it'll be worth it."

"Okay, let's do it."

OOC

Hi! Thank you for reading<3

Because of the holidays, I will be very on and off later this week. However, I'll have a good amount of time in the next few days.

I'm looking for a dominant M writer who enjoys the idea of a slow build-up. There can be some naughty fun in between, but I'm not looking for a partner who will be eager to cuck my IC husband right away. I want us to meet, date, and get to know each other like normal while I slowly ease you into the idea. Even when you accept our proposal, you should be hesitant and confused. If you want to play as an experienced bull who will instantly be amazing at sex, this is not the RP for you.

I tend to reply 9-5 EST M-F with a similar length to the prompt above. The length will depend on the scene, but I'll always match my partner's reply length at a minimum.

Please tell me a bit about you as a writer, your character, a writing sample, and ideas you have for the story. Especially how we meet. Are you an old friend, a Tinder match, a co-worker, etc.? Once I know who you intend to play, we can develop how to progress from there!

In the bustling metropolis of Crescent City, crime runs rampant, and at the heart of it all lies the notorious crime lord, only known to the outside world as The Phantom, because he's avoided the police for so long and no one except those close to him knows what he looks like and who he is. He's rich, powerful, with close connections that keep him incognito despite being out in the open throughout the underworld that he rules. He's handsome and charismatic, yet ruthless and borderline psychotic. He has been hunted for years, with minimal success.

I get the call from my captain, waking me up out of bed early in the morning to come into the office to hear about my new assignment. I've been a detective for over ten years now. With that comes experience, dependability, and a knack for the game. Of course, that also comes with a failed personal life, having been divorced a couple of years ago and no signs of anything serious since. Turns out I'm exactly the kind of guy that my boss wants to send in to investigate and finally hope to nail down this crime lord. But it also turns out I won't be doing it alone.

You get the same call, which comes as a surprise. You've only been with the department for about two years now, but you've been consistent in your determination to learn, successfully bring down bad guys, and to move up in the ranks. Still, this type of assignment was big, way beyond anything you've been assigned so far. And naturally, I object to it. Not because I doubt your abilities, but because I feel it's way too dangerous. A young woman such as yourself diving into the nasty criminal underworld. The thought alone made me uncomfortable. But, much like all parts of my job, I never have a say in the matter.

As we begin our venture undercover into the criminal underworld, we will find ourselves navigating the dangerous labyrinth of crime, seduction, and betrayal. Vital to this investigation will be a particular woman who has been serving as an informant ever since getting busted for narcotics a few months ago. A truly captivating exotic dancer who works at the glitzy nightclub said to be shadow-operated by The Phantom. My connection with her will initially be a means to an end, but soon I will find myself emotionally entangled and begin questioning the thin line between duty and desire.

You, on the other hand, struggle with your own demons in this high-stakes role. Eager to prove yourself, you unknowingly catch the eye of The Phantom himself, who is intrigued by your intelligence and spirit. As you spiral deeper into the crime lord’s world, you find yourself equally torn between the allure of power and the moral compass that led you to become a cop. Our mutual involvements with our respective partners creates a tense, uncharted dynamic but as the realization of the danger we are finding ourselves in grows and grows, amid the adrenaline and heart-stopping encounters, a stronger bond begins to form between us, one grounded in shared experiences, mutual respect, and a growing understanding of the shadows that haunt us both. As we navigate the complexities of our undercover lives, we must now confront our feelings for one another while remembering our mission of taking down The Phantom, who is always seemingly one step ahead of us.

As our operation culminates in a thrilling showdown filled with twists and turns, we must rely on each other more than ever, uncovering not only the depths of criminality but also revealing our own hearts in a world where every choice could lead to life or death. In a gripping tale of loyalty, redemption, and love birthed from chaos, our story will explore the balance between personal desires and professional duty as two partners ultimately find solace in the most unexpected of places.

---

Hi there! So this is a tale that will focus on four central characters. The two detectives, the dancer informant, and the crime lord himself. As such, I must preface by saying I am seeking a partner who can play both of the female characters, and I will be playing both of the male characters. We can write this in 1st person from the perspective of our detective characters, with the other two being used in third person, or we could write the whole story in third person. Whichever works best for you.

My main goal is write an engrossing story full of character emotion and relationship dynamics, mixed in with elements of a criminal underworld and all the thrills and danger that can entail, and of course a lot of graphic, explicit sexual scenarios between all of the characters. There will be sexual encounters between each male/female counterpart in some shape or form in this story. I desire a partner who can be invested in the long-term, a detailed, creative, and descriptive writer with a very open mind when it comes to both the every day events that might occur as well as the sexual kinks and scenarios we might get into.

Shoot me a message if you are interested and let's talk! Low effort is ignored. Please state your age upon reaching out.

The Big Easy had been living well up to its name since he had started doing business within it. To Patrick, the city had been little more than a place to eat, drink, and party. The need to do business around it never really seemed necessary. Las Vegas, Miami, and NYC sure because they had as much commerce as they did revelry but New Orleans? No way they were anything more than a place to visit one week a year on Fat Tuesday to catch beads, see tits, get drunk, and raw dog some randoms... Maybe see some Voodoo sites and have some beignets the morning you plan to leave to help with the hangover.

Patrick knew all the real Louisiana business was done in Baton Rouge where the College, Capital, and Power Brokers of the state lived. NOLA was for fun, nothing else. Or it had been...

When Katrina hit the game for a while had changed and people suddenly learned to love the Big Easy for more than its food, its fun, and its history... They wanted the city to thrive if for no other reason than to offer a subtle gesture to humanity that they could always rebuild over nature as they had traditionally done throughout the histories of the species.

So to that effect and perhaps to capitalize on the Political fallout the Bush Administration dealt with Obama's Administration incentives businesses into investing in the state mainly into New Orleans offering tax breaks, and grants if they helped in taxes, in jobs, and in donations to expand the city that had been ravaged by mother nature. Oh they might always point to Federal Government mismanagement of Levees as if the idea that New Orleans would be ruined if/when a Category 5 Hurricane hit it hadn't been told for decades now. A city below sea level holding back both the Gulf of Mexico and the Mississippi River flooded after a vicious weather event... Shocking... Said no one ever.

But Patrick was not there to have a debate as to where the blame should be leveled... He was there for his purposes. Up till recently, all was going so well... The land he desired was purchased for low prices swiftly and quietly. As Disney had in Orlando Patrick had hoped to be done with the purchases under his shell operations long before the political powers realized what was happening. Alas, he was just over 3/4 of the way into the land negotiations when sudden contractual problems and zoning issues were being mentioned... The land was not even owned and already he had Louisiana Bureaucrats detailing the fines he will have to pay and code issues he will have to fix before even establishing his intentions for the lands. The unspoken demand for graft was obvious and not to the elected officials who were little more than puppets on a string but to the upper masters themselves. The political machines of Louisiana had caught his scent and he was in for a fight. As the various factions of the state lined up to take a turn in the gangbang Patrick knew he needed an ally were he to fight the war on the horizon. Not just because he had no desire to pay every swinging dick in this cousin fucking state. But because he knew once the bleeding started it would not stop... Bullies never stopped unless you stopped them.

The various factions he could bring into the fold brought with them the pros and cons of each being unique and useful in their ways but also harmful if he played it wrong. Patrick had deep-diving dossiers made of each studying the names, profiles, and pasts of each man and woman who would be a friend or a foe and how he would combat or woo them accordingly. He pondered on his flight to New Orleans which one he would want, still undecided when he landed. He had them narrowed down to three:

1. The New Orleans Family - The Italian Mob established during prohibition in the city are shadows of what they once were since the government and local police decimated them but they still exist with old connections and ties to the more established powers in NYC, Chicago, Miami, and Kansas City. They would be the more predictable outfits to work with having connections with them in other cities Patrick could draw on other powers to increase his clout over their leadership. But they lack real muscle if push comes to shove.
2. The Haitian Gangs - A loose organization led by a council of leaders they are the real muscle in New Orleans with blacks, Latinos, creole, and Cajuns under their control they hold sway in all the Wards as well as hold a superstitious power with Voodoo and Hoodoo at their disposal... These men would be the best army money can buy and the fear they bring would silence any threats. But Patrick had learned long ago the issue with council leadership is they fight wars amongst themselves which can cause issues presenting a united front behind Patrick. On top of that, he learned that here in the south the poor and oppressed population, when given money and power, almost always used it in petty ways. The local police and civic leaders who to this day still call them racial slurs suddenly find their homes' burned and their sons murdered because these men could exact long standing vengeance unopposed.
3. The Long Family - What the Pierce Family was for California the Long's were for Louisiana having established their power base and expanded the State under their guidance. The fathers of modern Louisiana were Long's and every city from New Orleans, to Baton Rouge, to Thibodeaux, they all owed their current place in the world to the family... A family who still rules the political spheres as Puppeteers... To be vouched for by the Long Family did not guarantee victory but it nearly did; not to mention the money, introductions, and influence they still held in City, State, and Federal Government was unmatched not just in Louisiana which was their traditional home but now in Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, and in East Texas. The campaigns, the fundraisers, the gala events, The Super Pacs... The Long Family controlled it all and as a result they owned or leased most of the Politicians... But they, like the Pierce Family, had a clean reputation in terms of "wet work". They had no real muscle to speak of if the opposition had it they would use their influence to find allies... Did Patrick need them to do what he could do himself?

It was these three factions dancing in his mind and the obstacles ahead of him that could thwart him from contemplating moves and countermoves. Like chess, the possibilities were limitless given how the board was at any given moment, and only in the endgame would his ally show their worth. It was this that played in his head back and forth, up and down as he was driven to the Ritz Carlton and provided his Suite atop the massive building with the Riverside Veranda, and luxurious amenities. 

Patrick in need of time to relax and a long walk exited the suite not long after arriving having changed into swimming clothing he descended into the gym facilities of the five-star hotel the Olympic-sized swimming pool, gym, and spa part of the package for their guests and local elites who wished to enjoy the pristine facilities.

Patrick lost count of the laps in which he swam merely back and forth. Stroke, breathe, stroke, breathe, stroke, kick turn, dive, surface, stroke, breathe. The whole process of going from one side to the other is cathartic and hypnotic, the exertion bleeding the stress away.... After what turned out to be 2-hours of nonstop swimming he exited the pool gasping, panting and mess, his arms and legs as much rubber as they were flesh. A turn into the spa was met with a long deep tissue massage to the exhausted muscles, the leather-scented oils chosen replacing the chlorine smells of the water as the hands of the masseur dug into his swollen muscles relaxing them as he drifted with the soft melodic sounds playing as ambiance for the massage followed by a long sweaty time in the sauna the impurities of his active and hedonistic lifestyle pouring out of him and replaced with pure distilled water he steadily drank during the time in the room the muscles which had so viciously been massaged relaxing even more in the heat the scar tissue and toxins released purged drip by drip.

The whole time Patrick's eidetic memory built scenario after scenario, layers upon layers of hypotheticals each telling of what he could do, and why he would do it. The various members of each faction he had researched and the various possible outcomes that could result. Nothing left out of the realm of possibilities in terms of strategy and agenda.

Eventually, he would leave the sauna drinking another bottle of water showering in the locker room, and redressing himself after the hours spent in the gym, spa, and sauna offering the chance for silent contemplation. Several possible tactics are now in mind and prepared.... Of course, this could all change in an instant, but he was flexible and versatile.... He could and would adjust if he needed to.

Flexibility was critical in business.

Flexibility was critical for many things Patrick enjoyed. 

---------------------------------------------

I made this prompt for a specific idea to play opposite Queenfish premise I have on my Ideas Hub (Pinned in my Profile),

BUT there is a lot of potential for it beyond this premise.

Maybe you can play as part of the other Factions, or perhaps an independent. Maybe law/political elements, or even a fallen house looking to use the new power in the City to rejuvenate themselves.

The ideas are truly endless from a Environmentalism, to Legalism, to Criminality, to White Collar Crime, even the idea of a Evangelistic Personality looking to get into the fold with Patrick and use his wealth, power, influence, and network to attain their own goals.

Clip Clop Clip Clop

Tylo listened intently until he was sure the guard was far enough away, then let himself fall from the high rafter, feeling the air rush past him. He had to have fallen 35... Maybe 40 meters. Yet he didn't hit the ground with a thud. In fact, the contact was a barely audible tap as his boots touched the stone. So much better than when he had first discovered he could do any of this. Was that really only a few months ago?

It had to have been. He thought to himself. It was the day I found that-... Uh oh. In front of him, a large stone double-eoor blocked his path. He accessed the panel next to the door, slipping a security tunneler into the input port. Slow and steady. Don't hesitate, but don't rush. He told himself.

It was amazing to him how much easier this has all become. He'd been stealing since he was a boy. That's what you did on Jis'Idha. At least, when you were born in the lower quarter. Steal. Swindle. Peddle ALL kinds of goods. That was the name of the game. But until a couple of months ago he never would have thought to hit an Enterprise building. Then again, a couple of months ago he couldn't do what he could do now.

He thought he heard something as he finished, putting the security tunneler away. Shrugging, he walked though the double doors, now open before him, and his mouth practically started drooling as he entered. The large room was filled with archaic tools, old world paintings, fine but weathered silks and furs, any one of which would fetch him enough credits to eat heartily for months. Maybe even a year if he was careful with it. He wrapped a few silks around his waist, stuffed a strange looking contraption into his bag, and slung a pure white fur with ice blue streaks onto his back.

Turning to leave, he froze in place as, looking towards the double door a balck-robed figure, hood up, stood silhouetted by the doorway. Kark. He thought to himself. He knew he had felt something earlier. Not heard. Felt. He breathed in, gathering up the new energy he'd been using before. Shooting forward, he initially attempted to speed past the looming presence. A hand shot forth from the robe, and Tylo felt something grip him around the neck, pulling him faster towards the interloper and lifting him off the ground. Tylo thought to lift his feet up and slam them into the robes, but saw another hand whip out to the side, a slender cylinder, maybe 8cm in length floating quickly in the air to meet the hand at the figure's side.

No! Tylo thought. Throat tightening as he was pulled harder through the air, he reached out with his hand and unclipped the cylindrical object he had from his belt. In a fury of movement, the cylinders ignited nearly simultaneously, Tylo deflecting a strike so close to his head he could feel the heat. He used the momentum of the deflection to send a swift kick into the neck of the figure, and both bodies toppled away from each other.

Tylo sprawled, then recovered, taking a low stance that the strange cube he had back home had called "Makashi", his cylinder now producing a 3 meter long Veridian green beam. Across from him, he recognized "Ataru", the most aggressive of the stances discussed by the cube. And in the figure's hand, point towards him as if visualizing running him through, a long, dark crimson blade that seemed to almost absorb light rather than project it hummed softly.

Well, fuck. He thought to himself. What now?

"The Je'daii adhere to both Ashla and Bogan. There is both passion, and peace. Serenity, and emotion..." He wasn't sure why this portion of the cube's instruction was coming to mind. He didn't even know who the Je'daii were. Let alone these other two... Ashla and Bogan. As the mysterious figure coiled like a snake, then launched itself at him, Tylo braced... And wished sincerely that he had never touched that stupid cube.

//

Hello there,

I'm looking for a star wars rp, but not set with cannon characters or storylines. The setting I have in mind is one in which force traditions (to all but some "primitive" planets) have been largely lost. No one knows of the Jedi or Sith, and for whatever reason force sensitivity has become extremely rare (and has been for generations). But now it's coming back. Tylo Haren is just one of many who are experiencing sudden connections to the universe they had never felt before.

A little about me:

Experienced gm and player.

I know this intro was long but it is absolutely not my expectation every time. Sometimes a scene calls for length, sometimes it calls for brevity. The best partners I have are ones that understand the ebb and flow of a scene.

I like to chat ooc with my partners to get a feel for what they're into so that we can create the best possible experience for each other.

NSFW friendly, definitely, but it has to make sense for the overall plot. I think I generally run a 30/70 smut to story ratio. I am not a fan of the "always looking for the next spicy scene" doctrine. No disrespect if that's what you're into. It's just not for me.

I strictly use discord. Reddit is so good at so many things, but their chatting and inboxing platforms suck.

All players and characters must be 21+

If this catches your eye, please reach out to me and we can discuss some finer points before moving to discord. Thank you for any interest!

TL:DR, A college nerd buys a cheap dating sim game based on Warhammer’s chaos gods. It’s a classic creepypasta posessed game, that leaks into his real world! 4th wall breaks, mind-bending horrors beyond comprehension, dates with girls who constantly shift from cutesy to horrific to deformed, yet all seeking attention and affection.]

“Huh. Novel.” Travis chuckled as he browsed through the Valve Halloween Sale. One of the cheapest games was called “The Great Game”, an absolute violation of copyrights, by being a dating simulator blatantly stealing from the Warhammer franchise. The 0.99$ price tag was appealing, but he was still interested in checking out the description.

Suffer the throes of The Warp, and LOVE!???!??! Enter the idyllic seaside town of- Weird. The description was glitched. What followed was a short bit of corrupted text, clearly just gibberish. Coming to town for vacation, it’s time to let the void shields of your heart down and let these divine dames inside to FEAST ON YOUR FLESH! Take them on dates, offer them worship and sacrifice, buy them presents, and win their unwavering and unfaltering attention as the all vie for the largest portion of your soul! How romantic!

Already bored, he blasted through the following paragraphs, only taking in some occasional words like “contract for your soul”, “forgo the rights to your pelvis”, “nurgle will not be cleaning her clothes”, yadayadayada. With a soft raised eyebrow, he scrolled back up to the top and watched the price fall down in real time. 88. 77. 66. 55 cents! Now, Travis simply HAD to buy it. With a quick click, sad reflection at his dwindling budget for the week, he got up to get ready for the day while the game downloaded.

Taking a look around his studio apartment, he took in a deep breath. Nothing special. Nothing beyond the bare necessities, the occasional piece of nerdy memoribilia. But it was home. Standing up from his gaming PC, he took to his clothes rack and put on another standard outfit. A t-shirt with a vague logo on it, though today he added a second layer of a bright pink hawaiian button up, and some flavor of cargo shorts. He never had a fashion sense, and often dressed for comfort. His rectangular blue spectacles hung askew on his face, long due for a replacement he couldn’t afford.

Hopping back in his comfortable rolling chair, he opened up the file and opened the game. From a black screen with a grey eight-pointed star in the center, a purple and pink menu loaded in with voices saying “The Great Game”! An audio file must have been corrupted. There were four romance options, and yet he heard more than that when the title was read. Well, it was only half a buck. Clicking through the setup, he settled in to the small session he could fit in before his next set of classes. It was pretty cute! The girls were well-designed, at least. Khorne was a buff, rowdy, comically bone-headed tomboy jock. Tzeentch was an eccentric shut-in, who liked to infodump about seemingly random tidbits of information. Slaanesh was the campus ‘party girl’ with a total tsundere vibe. And Nurgle was a pudgier, gamer-best-friend and shut in type of girl with a truly massive green hoodie.

There wasn’t really much to complain about, but not much to rave about either. After the initial set up, he closed out of the program and threw the strap of his book bag onto his shoulder. A million eyes watched him from every inch of shadow as he left his apartment and slammed the door behind him. Feeling lightheaded, Travis leaned against the railing while taking the stairs down to his bus stop to his college.

On the ride over, the large young man sank into his corner seat, earbuds playing the soundtrack to one of his favorite games. Like normal, the bus he was on drove under a bridge, casting darkness over them, and changing the world as they passed through the other side. As they passed through the light, mold and rust and seeped into the panels, every other rider now a rotting and bloated cadaver. A rancid stench filled his lungs and wrenched out a coughing fit, yet, once his eyes opened back up, everything was normal.

Shaken, once he stepped on campus, he hurriedly made his way to his composition class for his Animation Degree. Mild construction on his usual route. Damn. Hopping around the block, a sudden traffic jam prevented him from safely heading to his backup route. Turned around, his attention was caught by a hummingbird, flittering past a woman sitting below a tree. She seemed aloof and reclusive, so he made his questions about where to go quickly. The girl answered coldly and quietly, with both a matter-of-factness and sly smile just odd enough to make him doubt her. Thanking her nonetheless, he rushed to his class, following her directions to get to the building on time.

Hopping into one of the elevators, he made a curt nod to a student already in there, before pressing the button to the correct floor. On the ride up, the box shook violently, sending the purple and pink-clad student tumbling forward. In a moment, she spilled a cup of scalding hot coffee on his chest. He screamed in pain as his shirt was now steaming, burning morning joe rolling down his stomach. Before he could recover, he felt her body push against his, hands cupping his crotch and beginning to massage it without remorse. The conflict between his burnt skin and the pleasure caused him to short circuit for a few moments, until the door opened and… she was gone. The coffee, the pain. All gone.

Something was fucking wrong. Getting into class, he was covered in a nervous, cold sweat. He didn’t even notice the butch woman next to him roughly shove a piece of paper in his pocket before leaning over and gripping his ass. With a jump, he checked out the words on the paper. “We’re going out now.”

WHAT IN THE WORLD IS HAPPENING!?

Sorry for that! I know that was a crazy stupid long intro, but I hope you understood by the end why I couldn’t really keep it short. This roleplay is a lot of things, and I don’t think for a lot of people. That being said, hope you understand the vibe I’m going for! Little bit of Eldritch Horror, little bit of Doki Doki Literature Club, and some game/real world crossovers in a reality bending rom-com! (Maybe not always funny, but Nurgle’s laughing.)

We’ll be following the courtship of animation student and gentle giant, Travis O’Brien! After making a contract unknowingly by purchasing a cheap dating sim game, Travis is now the center of a courtship game between the gods of the Warhammer universe! Khorne, God of Blood, Violence, and Honor. Tzeentch, God of trickery, deceit, and knowledge. Nurgle, God of Pestilence, Decay, and Finality. And Slaanesh, God of Unspeakable Excess. These beings are now in a divine pissing contest over who can win over this mortal’s heart.

Problem is? They’re still horrific, unscrutable gods of chaos. Sure, they’ll SOMETIMES take their video game forms. But maybe they’ll possess someone Travis knows. Or a total stranger. Or as a gust of breeze. Or the sound of heavy laughter. Or mind/meltingly horrifying paradoxes of reality. Let’s get weird with this shit, y’know? Have sex with a concept shit.

All kinks are negotiable, limits aren’t!

Kinks: Groping, teasing, romance, affection, non/dub con, stalking, sneaky sex, public sex, clothed sex, outercourse, milking, overstimulation, bruising, marking, mild pain, bondage, spanking, pegging, creampies, facesitting, group sex, posessiveness, horror, rimming, toys, demons, unconventional sex, and some more. Less popular: Sweat, Musk, Watersports, Armpits Limits: Chastity, Cuckold, Sexual Gore, Sexual Violence, Needles, Scat, Diapers, Smegma, Dirty Feet, Torture, Guro, and Snuff.

Hope to talk soon!

Juliette was a journalist with a fierce passion for uncovering the truth, especially when it involved the darkest corners of society. When reports of missing women flooded the city, Juliette couldn’t turn a blind eye. She delved deep into the investigation, determined to uncover the sinister truth behind the disappearances.

Her relentless pursuit led her to a shocking revelation: an underground organization specializing in human trafficking. But what chilled her to the bone was their particular focus—capturing women and selling them at secret auctions to the highest bidder in foreign lands.

With a mix of determination and trepidation, Juliette pursued every lead, risking life and limb to gather evidence against the traffickers. One fateful night, she received a tip about a clandestine operation taking place in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

Armed with her camera and fueled by a sense of justice, Juliette slipped into the shadows of the warehouse, her heart pounding with adrenaline. As she observed from the shadows, her worst fears were confirmed. Men, their faces shrouded in darkness, led terrified women onto a stage, where they were cruelly displayed like mere commodities, the bidding frenzied as wealthy buyers vied for possession.

With a steady hand, Juliette captured damning evidence on film, each snapshot a testament to the horrors unfolding before her eyes. But just as she prepared to make her escape, a sudden blow to the back of her head sent her tumbling into darkness.

When Juliette regained consciousness, she found herself stripped of her clothes and dignity, confined to a cage like the very women she had sought to save. The air was thick with the lecherous whispers of her captors, their greedy eyes devouring her exposed form. Panic surged through Juliette’s veins as she realized the full extent of her predicament. She was now in a foreign land, far from home, destined to be sold at auction as a concubine for a powerful mandarin …

Hello! I’d love to play a prompt where an incredibly wealthy and successful asian crimelord decides he needs a new western flower for his harem to share his life and wealth with! So he purchases an incredibly feisty and beautiful young up and coming journalist nammed juliette to become his pampered, spoiled concubine. She’s so pretty after all. Best not to waste that aspect of her doing man work when she could be living a life of luxury. Once he's bought juliette at auction he’d perhaps use a mixture of his natural charisma combined with his vast wealth and his domination to submit this young tomboy into being his perfect and adorable flower. She is so tomboyish and fierce So with all this attention and pampering She’d be in line in no time. The condescending nature of this man is a must! He’s not overly cruel or malicious. She’s like a pet. A doll. So pretty, delicate and needing to be kept safe! Anybody that dares harm his flower ? They’d have him to answer to….

I've always loved asian culture, especially concerning women and their place in society and the backward view of some men who consider them as fragile and delicate things that should be devoted to serve them.

I would like to make a rp where a tomboy heroine finds herself trapped in a brand new environment that is unknown to her where she will have to learn to adapt to it. The idea is to emphasize her new life as the property of a powerful and intimidating man in the rp for example with the asian clothes she will wear as his concubine or the things she will have to do.

The idea of this rp is really to have the classic pattern of a beautiful woman falling into the hands of a (disgusting), perverted man. I want the rp to have a slow build up and break down so that there is eventually some sort of Stockholm syndrome, I also want the tomboy heroine to be fully aware of what is happening to her but unable to do anything about it, making things even more interesting.

Indeed one of the things I expect from this rp is the slave training and the formation she will receive to make her the perfect asian concubine, obedient, graceful and feminine, in short everything she would have hated to become! Maybe her master will decide to give her a new asian name? Maybe she will be forced to stay still and silent for hours, tied up or in an unpleasant position to learn respect and discipline? Maybe she will be forced Forced to learn to dance or behave like a four-legged pet? So many possibilities and don't hesitate to give me your ideas!

The aim of this RP is to provide an in-depth look at the life of a asian powerfull mandarin, especially juliette, who will become his most prized possession. She will learn to accompany him to major events and to be displayed like the rare little western flower for all to see, making her master proud and even more powerful.

For example, her new master could be having a business meeting with other members of his organization or other powerful figures, and Juliette could enter the room dressed in the attire of an elegant and feminine Asian concubine. She would be adorned in a flowing silk qipao in soft pastel shades, with intricate embroidery of delicate cherry blossoms and cranes. Her jewelry would consist of jade bracelets and delicate, dangling hairpins. Her hair would be styled in an elaborate and graceful bun, adorned with golden pins and pearls, while her face would be beautifully made up with porcelain-like skin, soft red lips, and elegantly painted eyebrows.

As she enters the room, all eyes would be drawn to her, captivated by her exotic beauty and the mysterious allure of the concubine. Moving with grace and elegance, Juliette would approach her master, kneel beside him, and bow her head in submission. The other men in the room would watch with keen interest as her master acknowledges her presence, his hand resting on her head, then gently lifting her chin to look into her eyes.

I'd like to start at the top, before my character ends up so broken and submissive. We could explore her trials and humiliations, following along as she gradually realizes being a good girl is her best option.

In this rp the main themes will be feminization and corruption, the idea is really for me to turn her from a tomboyish, feisty heroine into a sexy, girly asian concubine belonging to the man she hated the most. So for the main kinks of this rp I was thinking of:

So for the main kinks of this rp I was thinking of: -geisha -Force Feminine sexy Clothing -petplay-asian outfit-light Bondage -NonCon fantasies (, blackmail, forced, unwillingly) -race play -slave training -Misogyny -Gags -Slavery -Slow breaking -Orgams denial -Vibrators, buttplugs and other sex toys -humiliation/Ddlg -corset/high heel sexy costume -collar/leashes: anal,cum play, breaking, corruption, makeover, , brainwashing, outfit/makeup/haircut control, Limits: vore, incest, feet, vomit, shrinking. I just like when proud tomboy heroines are forced to dress as girly, feminine ^^

Please start off with a detailed post describing your Mandarin ! His appearance description, his background if you want and a summary of his personality and nature as a whole. And include the words “My precious western flower ” in your reply title so I know you read this all! I rp in posts of at least a paragraph or two, so please be a decent writer too! Hope to hear from you soon! Also send me a kink list please!

The more exciting, vivid, and creative you are, the better chance you have at getting a response.

I mostly rp on Discord !

The Northern California Wilderness was a sight to behold at this time of year with the autumn chill just biting on the edges of the flesh offering a chill in the night and pleasant breeze in the afternoon, the rains of winter and late fall having yet to begin. The great forest of Redwoods, Cypress, Conifers and Pines offers a matted collage of reds, oranges, browns, and greens. It was the prime time for camping just pleasant enough to be comfortable in the day, just cold enough to keep the Glampers away in their 5-Star Resorts.

Within these woods so far away from civilization far from traffic, cell phones, the internet, and the Media walked a lone figure amid the trees and wilderness... His tall lean form a dark outline dressed as he was in jeans, boots, a sweater, and backpack as he marched up the rough animal trail through the trees and rocks along the mountain side. The terrain was rough and the trail faint but the man moved with a smooth agility and familiarity of a Mountain Goat along the surface, his keen gaze shifting along the distant, intermediate, and near zone. The animals this deep into the wild were not exactly friendly. Coyotes, Wolves, Snakes, Mountain Lions, and even Bears roamed over these vast forests of Northern California and Oregon.

Few would know that the lone figure so deep and lightly geared was the head of a Multi-Billion Dollar Corporation, and one of the premier Businessmen within the World.... The Famous Patrick James Pierce IV...

Patrick was a complicated man... He was a renowned decadent, hedonistic, playboy. A constant face on TMZ as much as Forbes for his high profile parties, and relationships with the newest hottest starlet of the moment. He was a vocal member of the Civilian Economic Advisory Committee to the Trump Administration and a High Profile associate of the First Family. He had a reputation of a sex crazed, drug fueled, misogynistic frat boy trust fund kid douchebag and a vicious behind the scenes backstabber and snake in the grass predator among the Business Elite... Anything bad you could say about a wealthy white heterosexual American 1%er Patrick was the believed embodiment of.... And yet here he was alone in the wild with no butler, no harem of escorts, no luxury, no drugs, no sex, no rock n roll.... Just a man in the forest 10-miles every which way from anything resembling civilization or humanity.

Every so often.. At least once a year or so Patrick liked to slip away into the wild for a week and totally disconnect from it all. He had always had a passion for nature and was a survivalist by hobby. Going so far as to often in his youth disappear for weeks on end into the wild country and living off the land. Once even going so far as to be declared missing presumed dead when he left for the Dakota Badlands for over 6-weeks with nothing but the clothing he had on and a Bowie knife. The same Bowie knife he carried with him now.... He was front page news for the next week when he reappeared having lost 25 pounds and looked every bit a drifter but he survived and that was what he wanted to prove. He covered over 150-Miles in that time period and lived completely off the land eating rodents, bugs, roots, and carrion but he lived and if he could do it then he felt it was more than safe to do it with a whole pack of supplies on his back, a knife, and hatchet on his hips and a Ruger Super Redhawk Alaskan 44 Magnum holstered across his chest for swift draw if a bear or cougar ambushed him.

The path he walked was familiar as he owned the land he was now on, in fact he owned the 100-Square Miles all around them in trust for the State of California under the Pierce Wildlife Preserve moniker. The location he ventured to was known only to him so deep in the wilderness no one would find it. A simple cave and overlooked outcrop that gave him a wide visual expanse of his surroundings, a warm, dry shelter to use, a nearby stream coming out of the mountain itself and therefore naturally filtered and clean drinking water that was fast moving enough to use as a latrine. It has direct lines of access to get to where the game trails were to trap, and there were multiple edible plants that grew along the mountain.... This was his secret sanctuary and he was sure if he ever had to go into hiding no one would find him here, and if they did he could booby trap the trails and make an easy escape.... Patrick always had a plan.

It was nearly dusk when he made it to his base camp. The location looked the same as when he left it over a year ago. Some nesting birds, and a Wasp's nest was closer than he wanted but for the most part all was undisturbed. He had little daylight left so he swiftly set to work filling his pots and canteen with water, unpacking his pack and gathering wood in the dying light. The pile of split wood he had gathered before sat in the back of the cave seasoned now a full year it was dry and would burn well. Just as the sun was setting beyond the horizon and the stars made their appearance in the heavens he had enough wood, and kindling to start his fire. The outcrop of the cave's mouth offered an awning to protect from the wind and rain but was open to let a light breeze through even in the wildest of storms that would take the smoke with it leaving only light and warmth... The fire was kept low enough to not draw bugs or predators to the perimeter but still bring the water in his pot to a boil so he could pour it in his MRE and coffee cup.

The crickets chirped and owls screeched by the time he was fully unpacked, his food was ready, and he was relaxed sitting on the ground looking up to the full moon waxing in the horizon on the rise... A bad moon rising... That means trouble's on its way.

--------------------------------

If you enjoyed the prompt message me and lets discuss!

Perhaps we do some Primal (Predator/Prey) vibe?

Maybe mutual survivalists have a lovely time in the wild together after serendipitously finding one another and have their own Naked and Afraid style weekend?

Maybe your lass is an assassin hunting MC, or a criminal in hiding who just so happens to find the one man that has the clout to clear her name?

There is literal dozens of ideas we can banter and brainstorm!!!!

Everyone has heard the rumor of the occult and the followers of it, those who wear dark clothing and symbols associated with hell itself. While most don't think anything occult is real, there is the rare thought that one could find some answer.

You.

A small trip to an antique shop led to a discovery for one lucky woman as ones self. A tome, one never seen before in a shop such as this that glows red on touch that only becomes legible when in contact with flesh of a willing person.

It says only the name "Astor of Lust" almost as if it's a title of a shitty erotica, but it's otherworldly traits gives the feeling of something deeper. The older woman you've known to be the shopkeeper smiles as it's brought to the counter for purchase, almost aware of what you might find within.

Once brought home, no internet search answers who this is. Your friends don't know what it is, they think it's a cool book to put it lightly as only can they see the glow, but no words. Yet, you manage to find it legible while others cannot. It's as if the text wants you to read it alone. Describing it online just reads with people making fun of this absurd idea.

Curiosity gets the better of you, you go page by page to learn the story of this supposed "Fallen Angel" as the text tells you. It describes a large, muscular being carved from marble. A being that was curious to a particular facet of mortals, their innate sexual habits and interests. A chronicler of the forbidden acts who fell in a fight in "paradise" with his kin to a "place of fire and brimstone". A demon you can presume to be Hell itself.

The story doesn't end there though, it transcribes a story of the founding of the concubus. As it reaches this part of the story, the words become almost more impressively drawn as if it was written as the fall occurred. Each lewd and graphic description of the acts and habits of the "Concubi" getting detailed and graphic. The houses of the concubi and what they stand for continues on and on, as if wanting you to know more.

Until it returns to the angel who fell. It does it's best to describe the being as it is now, inconsistence changing . A large, muscular being clad in scarred, red skin. The angelic wings burned and gone, the otherworldly halo replaced by horns. The natural opposite, but it describes an ability to alter his form as if to suit the needs of his summoner as it eludes to his privates aren't set in stone as is any part of his body.

Every thing read from here out is almost a personal message, as if it was written for you specifically.

"Desiring an incubus is natural, a being who feeds on the fulfillment of your desires. He wants you to be content and happy with yourself. A hidden desire unfulfilled is what he wants the most, especially when the honesty itself screams louder than the moans of pleasure. Lying and coyness isn't his strong suit. A loyal beast of sin, Astor does not commit to sex outside his summoners desires. Hiding with him comes in many ways to suit how close you wish him to be to yourself."

The pages after the last word give a warning: "The Hunger".

He requires sex it seems, describing situations of which he went without "feeding" for long periods of time. The description is that he becomes bestial, less than the supposed civilized and reasonable self described before. A ravenous beast that takes what it desires with very few who seemed to stop him. Those who intentionally bring this side out fear doing so, but the fear is supposed to be desired.

Despite the warning, descriptions of summoning come through. Step-by-step instructions of how to bring through a demon like this one. A shape to draw on a wall, kneeling in front as you pleasure yourself while reciting a phrase in a language you can read.

"Bless me, Beast of Sin. Give unto me, that what I seek. The acts I desire."

Simple, you suppose, but do you follow it's instructions? They're so simple, but do you risk what could be so dangerous?

[Who are you? OOC from here out]

You are a woman who summoned an incubus who sort of wishes to help give sexual relief, exploration, and "helps" in your day-to-day problems. He's not a monster in a conventional sense, but he is still a sex demon from hell so... take the good with the bad.

You have ultimate say on who she is. Is she a young woman with no experience? An older woman who's days are long gone? A professional who works too much or something entirely different? All up to you. All I'd say is, ideally she's forward in some way.

What I do ask for is: What sort is she in the bedroom, what does she want from him, and does she have a secret to play on? Kinks, past exes, or even something else. Plot stuff mostly, but I'm a big plot person to mix with my smut. It also helps if she has like a job or something, maybe he impacts it by showing up or even taking a job with her.

Guess it has to me mentioned, but you know... no minors.

Hi, I'm Cap

This is an idea of a character I technically have had for a long time, just never brought here in a sense. He is a bit of a "power bottom", but is able to take command when needed. He is adaptable, think of it as he has a means to make his privates anyway desired.

This is ideally a long-term story where it explores your character sorta living with this literal being who's feeding off her exploring herself. If it's a romance plot, let me know as it could grow into that.

The "Hunger" is an aspect I'm totally cool playing out, but I'd sorta prefer it being something used sparingly. That said, it is a thing. He just becomes very, uh, aggressively dominant (To totally non-con: OOC I don't do this without asking. In-story he might be total non-con.)

Note on my kinks, they are listed on a page in my profile that I have a password on just as a bonus safety net.

Multiple partners: A rule here is he is a jealous sort who fixates on his current summoners interests or who he sees as his "master". He is willing to have sex with others by their suggestion (IE: If a cuckquean, he is willing), but he doesn't like sharing his master with others. There is a plot reason he's like this if wanting to explore why he's so strangely monogamous.

Oh, right, this isn't explicitly religious or meant to be a whole... thing in case anyone is somehow thinking that's only what I'm after. I'm cool with doing any sort of brainstorming and non-sense supernatural/para-religious mumbo-jumbo to explain shit.

Magic exists, maybe he gives you a means to be an actual witch. Maybe he gives a magical item that allows something to happen. Again, fun. This is all for fun.

That said: Please PM me if interested and if there's no response for a while, I do apologize as I either wasn't interested or what have you.

Good luck and I hope you did at least somewhat enjoy the idea at least.

Growing up in the small town at the foot of Castle Beddford, Pell had heard some variation of the same story no less than a dozen times. A daring knight risks life and limb to rescue a beautiful princess. In every telling she's a wonder to behold. The ideal woman that every man should want, and every maiden should want to be. Demure, chaste, and thoroughly boring. She was a passive participant in most stories, closer to an object than a person. In the tales he heard the princess rarely had her own desires and never had agency. Villains and monsters were given larger roles than the damsel in distress. They had drive, power, style. Pell adored the characters that he was meant to abhor, and as he aged he came to realize that he was hopelessly attracted to evil women.

Pell became a paladin for all the wrong reasons. Although he told a convincing enough lie, he had no real interest in serving the Lord of Light. For a decade he studied the sword, shield, spear, and scripture without ever truly taking it to heart. His true purpose was to find the girl of his dreams, fight her, lose, and spend the rest of his (possibly very short) life in her arms. He couldn't simply come as a supplicant and win the heart of his monstrous maiden. That's not how the stories went at all. She would want to fight for it, to break the hero and bend him to her will. A man earned is a man kept, Pell hoped.

Castle Beddford offered a host of bounties for would-be heroes. Reports of monsters came in from every direction, he need only choose his target.

**The Siren of the South Sea**

A small merchant ship bound for the southern colonies returned just a month after it set out. In the short voyage they had lost the captain and the jewels they had brought to trade. The surviving seamen claimed that their captain changed course to follow an enchanting song, and made a gift of his merchandise to the singer. "She was a blonde woman, comely and fair. He threw chest after chest of treasure into the sea at her command, and when he was done she invited him to join her beneath the waves. Capin' jumped in after her, and when she swum towards him it weren't a pair of legs that propelled her. It was the scaled tail of a fish." The first mate had told The Holy Order.

This was the fourth report of such a creature leading ships astray. They seemed to point to an island roughly a week's journey from Beddport, and all the victims were carrying gemstones or jewelry.

**Valley of the Vampire.**

To the west of Castle Beddford there sits a valley so deep that sunlight cannot reach its floor. The shadows hide an abundance of precious gemstones and ores, the source of Beddford's riches. Recently, miners have been going missing. Only three out of every five return to the surface, and those that do speak of a terrible creature lurking in the dark.

"If you look out into the distance, away from the lanterns, you might see a glowing pair of blood red eyes staring back at you. When her gaze meets yours it's over. She compelles men to follow her into the shadows, and those poor souls never come back. Save old Greg. He's seen her and lived, he has. A raven haired woman with pale skin that's never been kissed by the sun. She's got fangs longer than a wolf's, sharp claws for fingernails all painted with blood. Or juice, if you believe that loon. He claims he traded her a pomegranate for his life, says the poor girl is only hungry is all."

**The Ghoul Next Door.**

In the town under the castle, a couple reports that their daughter has undergone a frightening change. Not so much in appearance, but in attitude. The perfectly pliant girl has grown into a willful and wanton woman. She shirks her responsibilities and spends far too much time in the company of young men. It may turn out to be nothing, but The Holy Order has asked Pell to investigate because he is acquainted with the woman in question. They were friends in their youth, before he left to join The Holy Order.

**Shape Shifting Succubus.**

A tavern near Beddport has reported a string of murders within their walls. Each morning a sailor is found dead in a rented room. The bodies are drained and dried up like a raisin, but there's never been any injuries found on them. Nor are there signs of struggle in the room. The victims are always men of foreign birth, visiting sailors who might be expected to disappear at a new port. They're often seen in the company of a woman the night before they're found dead, but never the same woman. Some are buxom, some petite. Redheads, blondes, or brunettes. In one instance, the barkeep reports, a customer took a dark haired woman upstairs only for her to come back down with golden hair a half hour later.

**The Flower in the Forest.**

All manner of creatures make their home in the dense woods east of Castle Beddford. Wolves and bears eat the rabbits and deer, who in turn eat the foliage. However recently the plants have been biting back. Foraging parties tell tales of a clearing to the north-east that is to be avoided at all costs. It's a sunny meadow by a clear pond, but the verdant space is fertilized by corpses. A flower larger than a man grows in the meadow, and it spews forth an enticing aroma that has led many to their death. An alraune, a carnivorous flower taking the shape of a beautiful woman, resides there. She spends her days basking in the sunlight, bathing in the cool waters, and consuming any mortal men foolish enough to approach her.

**The Serpent of the Sands.**

The Ophidian Archipelago were some of the first lands colonized by the Bedds. A series of small desert islands to the south that were inhabited by a tribe of snake worshiping savages who desperately needed to be shown The Light. They, and their false goddess, resisted for a time but they were eventually brought into the fold. Her people surrendered when the lamia retreated, but soldiers have spotted her skulking around the derelict temple. They’ve requested the aid of a paladin to end the monster once and for all.

**The Sorcerer's Speakeasy.**

All forms of magic, except those given by The Lord of Light, are strictly prohibited in the Beddford kingdom. Whenever a witch or wizard is found within the castle walls they are promptly burned as a sacrifice to The Lord. Still, some are bold enough to practice their dark arts in secret. It can be highly profitable work. Medicines, enchantments, and love potions are only more desirable when they’re forbidden. But every spell sold risks the chance of an unhappy customer betraying the shop to The Holy Order. To stay in business for long, a witch has to know how to appease the local authorities. Or just enthrall them and make the local authorities appease her.

**Seduced by the Dark Goddess.**

Hundreds of years ago The Lord of Light won his war against The Dark One. Ever merciful, he spared her life by imprisoning her in the northern mountains. Her prison of ice was meant to hold her indefinitely. However the unrelenting progress of The Bedds has caused a subtle shift in the temperature. The ice has been starting to melt, to crack in some places. She isn’t physically free, not yet, but The Dark One can extend her influence out into the world once again. She can whisper into the ears of mortals, and slowly dominate their minds. If she can find a worthy champion she may be able to orchestrate her return to power.

—---

If you’re into world building, I could talk your ear off with this one. It’s not necessary, it’s just something I really enjoy. This could easily become 90/10 story/smut if you let me go on, but I could also focus up for a one shot. The Bedds and The Order are absolutely not intended to be the good guys, so your character doesn’t need to be evil. It is preferred, but I left an out or two if you’re looking to play a misunderstood monster. Both sides being shades of gray works too, but that’s only going to encourage me to talk too much.

As far as kinks, I tend to lean towards gentle femdom but I am willing to switch as needed. I am not a fan of pain, humiliation, or degradation, but I can have Pell take charge sometimes.I am always open for DMs, but chat doesn’t always work for me.

I hope to hear from you soon!

18+ ONLY NO UNDERAGE ANYTHING

Amber Park threw her head back, the world spinning around her as she clapped her hand against her lips, doing everything she could to contain the deeply satisfied moan that demanded to be released into the stuffy air of the boutique's changing room, just as her raging hard-on released a thick, hot load into the warm, slick, impossibly wet, tight, mechanically massaging hole that sucked on it with a vacuum force, the feminine android's pink, digital heart eyes looking up at the small-framed girl as she stroked the more full figured woman's soft, dark locks, hips still lightly bucking periodically as she bred the robot's throat.

A hopelessly shy virgin prior to this purchase, the futa had never known an orgasm caused by anything other than her own hand, never felt the touch of a woman at all, let alone one as meticulously engineered as the PUSI-- The customization program was very advanced, and only words such as bliss and joy could explain the expression that came over Amber's face when the girl of her dreams first wrapped her plump, soft lips around the tip of her 8" erection.

Joy and bliss could not describe her expression when she came back from the kitchen to the PUSI bouncing up and down on her lab partner's lap.

"What are you doing?!" The nervous, fidgety girl asked the room, not sure if she was talking to herself, to her friend (the futa getting the life sucked out of her by the bot's asshole), or to the PUSI herself, she still scurried over to the couch, scrambling to find a way to get out of this situation-- Frantic hands moved from the android's waist, to her shoulders, eventually landing on her titanic hips, the short, subtle-framed Amber exerting all of her energy into physically pulling her sexbot off of her friend's dick.

"Is there something wrong? I was just following my programming." She'd say, standing very plainly in the middle of the room as Amber tried to gather her clothes, face beet-red with embarrassment at the absurdity of this situation.

"Y-yes, there's something--"

Amber exhaled, her introverted personality not at all suited to such confrontation, breath shaky as she led the bot by the wrist into the kitchen, leaving her friend spent on the couch.

Hello!

I am an experienced writer looking for a fun roleplay experience! Before I get into details, just a few ground rules:

1. I don't care who you are in real life, I don't want to know any personal details about you, and I hope you have that same respect for me.
2. Short replies aren't my style. I'm looking for a literate RP, with replies consisting of multiple detailed and formatted paragraphs. Which leads me to--

2b. Your time belongs to you. I don't care how long it takes to write a reply (although I do appreciate communication). 3. I like to talk things out in broad strokes before sitting down and writing-- I like to get to know our characters, the setting, the rules of the world, before pen ever hits paper. Planners welcome! I do like to improvise things, but as far as character details and general plot goes, I'd like to discuss an outline before we start writing. I love world building! 4. Please, please, please be respectful.

Now, to talk story--

I'm envisioning a story set in a world where household robotic “assistants” are about as common as Roombas are in our world today– i.e., not so unbelievable that you freak out when your friend gets one, but interesting enough that you want to take a look at it when you go to their house (This is where things can get interesting regarding world building– Assistants are pretty commonplace, but does the average assistant have working genitalia? A super-suction throat? Fun things to explore!)

The idea here is that the main character (written as Amber here, but we can take up whichever roles we want) owns a sophisticated robotic assistant (read: sexbot), called a PUSI (short for Personal Universe Service Intelligence), and is really secretive about it– The main character should be something of a loner, a homebody, staying home instead of going out– The assistant is programmed to help her with anything and everything she may need around the house. The fun comes when someone eventually does come over– Amber hasn't “socialized” her robot helper, so the robot sees no difference between her owner and the guest, opting to “help” them in the only way she knows how! I'm envisioning a good mix of smut and comedy, jealousy and affection as Amber tries to train the PUSI to not have sex with everyone she meets.

The prompt is written with the assumption that I will be playing Amber, the futa owner of the sexbot, but I'm totally open to playing a femboy, or switching roles and playing the robot. Let me know what sounds good to you!

Regarding the spicy stuff/general vibe I'm looking for:

I'm not envisioning this story as a particularly kinky piece of fiction-- If that's what you're looking for, I'm sure there are plenty of lovely writers out there. I'm much more interested in romantic, comedic, dramatic, and most of all, erotic fun, and I hope we can strike a good balance between plot and smut, with a light-hearted, fun approach.

That being said, here are my kinks, relevant to this story:

Romance: Let's give our characters butterflies! I love kissing, hand-holding, cuddling, all the mushy-gushy stuff.

Dialogue: Paragraphs on paragraphs of silent smut is so boring! Let the characters talk to each other, let each other know what feels good, what they want, etc. Sex is hot, but it can be passionate, awkward, fun, nerve-wracking-- Let's explore it all!

Oral sex: Blowjobs, pussy eating, facefucking, cock slapping, wet, sloppy, passionate, messy, I love all of it.

Sci-fi stuff: Does the main character make a device that programs the PUSI to act all lovey-dovey, or to act dominant? Does someone hack into her network in order to influence her behavior? Let's brainstorm!

Futa: I love chicks with dicks!

Passionate physicality: I love grabbing, groping, carrying, pushing, choking (in a sexy way, not a "I want to kill you" way!)

Limits: Underage, bathroom stuff, bondage, (non-monstergirl) animals, violence, blood, hate speech, raceplay

This got a lot longer than I intended it to, but if you got this far, I hope you have a good day, and I look forward to writing with you!

He glides on the shadows, a silent, deadly flight.

A creature of the night, claiming his rightful night.

-Lullaby, Author Unknown

He came for her just past the Hour of the Wolf.

Gliding across a Blood Moon on wings of a cauldron of bats, the man who had once been Batman crossed into Washington D.C. silently as a ghost. Forgoing the dramatic entrances of his past, he entered Diana Prince—Wonder Woman’s—residence without any need for invitation; quite literally seeping in through the cracks in her windows as nothing but mist, before retaking his human form at the foot of her bed.

The air in the room seemed to lower by a few degrees due to his presence. Though wearing not the cape and cowl of the Dark Knight, but rather a simple dark suit of the Wayne heir, there was nothing human about the way he looked at the sleeping Amazon Princess of Themyscira.

How long had he waited for this? Years? Decades? Not even he truly knew when Bruce Wayne had come to know that Diana was his one true love. He’d never truly been able to say it to her...

'Am I blue?'

...but it had been plain for all to see nonetheless. A tragedy in the making as their lives would not allow such luxuries like love between heroes. So he’d stepped back, denied his feelings for her not just to her, but himself as well—keeping his distance and insisting upon the bonds of friendship than what he’d truly wanted.

Until this night.

Now looking down at the still sleeping Princess, he longed to reach out and touch her... to stroke those lustrous, dark locks of hers, but he denied himself yet again. He’d waited for her for years. What was a few more minutes?

He had always been known for his silence. For his ability to sneak up on even the most alert of heroes and villains, but never before had he truly been as quiet as he was now. Now no longer required to breathe or heed the sound of his beating heart, he stood at the foot of her bed as silent as the grave until he finally chose to break that silence... speaking out just two words filled with both foreboding and a promise of dark romance to come.

“Hello, Princess.”

Hello and welcome to my prompt!

Having been bitten by the DC vs. Vampires bug, I'm now on the lookout for partners to write a story together. The core premise would be that we - you, as my partner, and I - take on the roles of canon DC Comics characters like Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman. We'd place them within a scenario similar to the recent mini-series DC vs. Vampires and its subsequent sequel series. While I enjoyed the series overall, I'm NOT looking to rehash the story and characters one-to-one. I'm more interested in crafting a similar narrative with our own twist on it.

Above this little explanation, you can find a writing sample that could also serve as a starter if we wish to proceed directly from it. It features Batman, who has been turned into a vampire via as-of-yet unrevealed circumstances, as he makes his way to Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) with the intent to turn her as well. I'm open to simply picking up from there and continuing the narrative directly, but I'm just as open to using it merely as a showcase of the kind of mood and narrative I'm looking for, and working out something wholly different with you as my partner!

Maybe we'll go full-fledged Gothic romance, as presented above?

Maybe we'll follow in the footsteps of the comics and focus on the action and gore of vampires and superheroes battling it out?

Maybe we'll focus on horror, similar to something like 30 Days of Night, while playing as the superheroes first attempting to figure out who the vampires among them are, only for the story to shift to full-blown survival horror as their numbers are whittled down bit by bit?

The world is our oyster, and I'm definitely open to working out a spin that would work for both of us.

I'm mostly looking for medium- to long-term stories here and have no interest in trying to hammer something out in a single afternoon. I would strongly prefer that we write this on Discord. We can start out the discussions here on Reddit - both DMs and Chat are fine - but once we're both comfortable and have agreed on what we want to aim for, we should move to Discord or another platform to write the story itself.

Assuming I haven't driven you away yet, you can find my kinks and limits here. I write exclusively in multi-paragraph third-person past tense and am located in GMT (Europe). In your opening message, please provide me with the following:

• A brief introduction on yourself and how much experience you have with the source material.
• Your timezone. Don't care about location, but just a general idea on how well our timezones match.
• Preferred posting format, style, and frequency. Basically, how you like to write, at what length, and how often (be it rapid-fire posting when we're both available, daily posts, or something else).
• Which canon characters you'd be most interested in writing. Bring up if you're open to writing more than one at a time. I myself mean to write more than one POV character as well as any additional ones required by the narrative. Special points reserved for those willing or interested in writing something like the 'Three Brides of Dracula/Whatever Vampire Lord we agree on.'
• Any canon characters that would be of special interest to you for ME to write.
• Any other ideas or such that you want to pitch right away!

That's it! I'm in no hurry, so as long as this ad is up, feel free to reach out whenever. My older ads are also up for grabs so feel free to reach out if those would be of interest.

Look forward to those Orange Envelopes!

All writers and their characters must be 18 or older.

The guards of the city of stars are amongst the most well trained of all the temple cities. The customary bribe to get in has been beaten out of them, the threat of sacrifice for any perceived failing keeping them well in line. Yet their god-king rewarded good labor with the same excess that he punished the unworthy, making sure that there was no little host of people volunteering for such a position.

Three questions are asked of any traveler who seeks entry, no matter how many times they had come before.

-

Who are you?

Nomad: The depth of your sun-bronzed skin makes it clear you belong to the nomad tribes. Despite the majority of the populace being of your kind, they are still seen as savages by most born in the Cities. But there’s a strength to you that they are merely jealous of. While the nomad tribes might not be as wealthy as those who reside in the city, unlike them you are free. There are more of you than there ever could be of them…and deep in their hearts, they know fear.

Cityborn: The adornment upon your clothes mark the city you hail from. Wealth in the desert is measured in water, and you have never wanted for it. The few cities of the desert are all established near a stable source of water, and have grown fat off the bounty it has brought them. This city is much like your own. Decadent in the extreme, with the only rule being obedience to the God-King and his precepts.

Serpentblood: Your robes cover your scales from the burning sun. You are not human. Unlike the converts, You never were. Your people look human, but venom runs through your blood rather than water. Unlike the weaklings that walk the sand, your people live below it in your long forgotten city. And at the center of it all, is the first serpent mother. Her transformation has long since finished, but she continues to grow still. Only the smallest signs indicate what she once was, her existence being an epitome of the dizzying heights you could one day reach. Those who are on the surface think you are just another breed of human, but according to the first mothers words, you are so much more.

Ghul:Pale skin and sharp talons make clear what you are. Corpses in the desert are usually burnt and the ashes scattered. Your kind are the reason for it. When a body is left in the sand, dark magics can reinvest a whisper of life into it. Life that must be preserved by robbing others of theirs. Only the desert can make a Ghul, only the flesh of the once living can allow their continued existence. Your soul is a cold thing, and you cannot feel as well as you once could (not without glutting yourself anyway) but in exchange, you have strength beyond that of the mightest soldier of any city, including this one.

What can you offer?

Your Blade: Every inch of your sun-bronzed form shows that you are dangerous. It proclaims to all that the presence of the blade at your side is nothing more than an aide, and that you are the true weapon. What you cover yourself up with is made from chitin and bone, lightweight enough to not impede you and cool enough not to bake you alive. In starving times, perhaps you would have attacked this city at the host of a raiding party or a set of soldiers, but for now you are fed and none have given you reason to draw your weapon. The guards are intent that the latter is unchanged.

Your Gold: Silken robes cover your body. The worms that create it do not do well in the desert, but the traders are fond of the same gold you offer so freely (and that none dare take). The fabric is stunning but it only hides your own beauty, something a multitude of men would tear out their beating hearts to savor for but one night. A valuable tool when it comes to negotiations. Your wealth has made sure that the only ones that enjoy your touch are the ones you permit. The guards do not look at you or your belongings too closely, lest you and your gold take offence.

Your Magic: Occult symbols clad your skin. Not many know what they mean, but they draw the eye of even the uninitiated, their strangeness only enhancing your appearance. You could have become a concubine to someone rich, a prince of one of the cities, but there was nothing in that for you. Instead, your hands break the world. With but a few signs and syllables you set the air ablaze. With a few more you steal the minds of those who are sent against you. And your enemies live in fear of a finished sentence. Yet all things have a price, and your soul has been blackened by the ways that you have paid it.

Why are you here?

Labor: Manual labor is below you, but there is always work for one such as yourself. Gold flows easily from the cities, their mines bringing wealth in to the noble class, which is spent freely amongst the people to keep their love. And if one is to lie, it is the easiest way to get behind the walls, for the God-Kings watchers care little for those who come for mere wealth.

Pleasure: If something cannot be found in a temple city, it cannot be found at all. Wealth brought in decadence and hedonism, leading to vast red light districts and markets. The finest of wine and foods, to be sampled along with the prettiest of dancing boys and pleasure girls, all devoured while watching the death matches in the arena. As long as one has enough money, anything is possible. And you certainly have enough for a good amount of time.

My own business: A risky response. But it gives them something to put in the books so it is accepted all the same. The watchers will surely keep their eye on you, but if you are caught doing something you should not be, you cannot be charged with lying to the guards, or entering with false intent. As such it is the traditional response of most assassin and thieves guilds, the additional challenge just proof of their skill.

Your responses are taken down. Noted in a book for later storage in the guardhouse. Another way the God-King kept his control, knowledge of those who enter. The guard stepped aside, permitting you to pass the gate, the dry heat of the desert air being overtaken with the scent of spices and running water as you entered.

-

Hiya!! Thank you for reading your way through this! I have been dying for the chance to write some dark fantasy in a desert setting! I made a bit of a world for this (which I tried to hint on the details of in the CYOA), and I am hoping to GM someone through it, in adventures full of smut and tasteful violence. Think Conan or Athas/Dark Sun in regards to the feel I am going for!

My requests for anyone who responds are the following:

• Please be literate! 2-5 Paragraphs is my norm.
• Please be able to write dialogue! Super big sticking point for me is when dialogue doesn't fit the setting! Stuff like text speak when they are in Rome just murders my muse.
• Please be willing to write on Discord! I only really use discord for writing because I can edit my posts easier on it, but at the very least it is mandatory for OOC!

In exchange, I offer you the same in return! I also offer you a partner who will not ghost you, who is super down to geek out over characters and is absolutely kink friendly (nothing that belongs in the bathroom, in a fever dream or violates reddit rules)! So please, if you are interested, answer the three questions from the CYOA in your message and I can promise you a response! Thank you so much for your time!

Note: The CYOA is more of a themepost, I am not looking for people to only play those options and nothing else! I welcome other ideas if you have any!

P.S.

Here is a bit of story! Was not sure if it had to be connected to this prompt or not.

Context: A male siren is speaking to a princess he has been trying to lure into the water for weeks, and an assassin pushes her in so he may dispose of her. The siren saves her instead. Historical Fantasy!

!What did he desire? A question he had not considered. Perhaps a better one for her would have been did he desire? Did a beast such as he know desire in the way that a thinking person did? Or was his desire closer to that of a beast. To tear the flesh and feast on her soul, the second she trusted him enough to step into the water? He knew no more than she did, and had not expected it to be tested. But a glance of the culprit was all he received, as his body moved into a hunting pattern, activated by the touch of her sweet skin to the water. Any pretense of humanity was tossed aside as all that was left behind was the predator…and the unfortunate in the water his prey.!<

!Or atleast that’s how it should have been. She should have died that night, and the siren should have feasted. It was the way of things, yet the natural order was violated when he approached her, and did not bite down. Oh how she fought though. Each strike against him stoked his hunger, whether she knew it or not. And how he fought as well, against the same hunger, for reasons he knew not. He fought as she fought, both with the same want in mind, for her to survive this.!<

!He was not gentle with her. To not rend flesh from bone, to not leave her bleeding out in the water…that alone was asking much. Anything else would be too much to ask of him. His hand pierced the flesh of her adorned arm, red ribbons marking her as he dragged her off into the murky depths. Enough to taint the surface of the water the softest of crimsons, barely visible in the depth of the night, but indicative that something was going on underwater.!<

!_!<

! Jewels surrounded her. A soft bed of dry seaweed and stolen cloth upon which shiny trinkets had been left. Some encrusted with old dry blood, others rusted, most with some show of age. In a dark cave, lit only by the sun so far away at its entrance. It was a small lagoon, where she would have to swim her way out. Her wounds would have been undressed, sharp nail marks across her right leg and left arm that went deep. Not enough to truly harm her in a lasting manner, but enough that she would bear these scars for a lifetime.!<

!There was not another living thing in the cave lagoon. No scurrying mice, no buzzing insects. All were kept away, by an idol she had been lain in front of. A naked woman, carved in a strange green and blue stone. It was hard to look at, but the woman depicted had been wounded thrice over, and there were offerings made of bone and gold. The siren that had been sure to devour her when she fell into the water, the one who had been begging her entrance into the river so he may feed, was nowhere to be seen.!<

If you like the below, check out my other prompts as well! I'm open to discussing more than just this prompt if others catch your interest, or crafting something together. Always open.

Kim sat quietly within her small living room, within her small condo, within her small town. The old yellowed drapes over all of her windows were drawn shut, which blocked most of the afternoon sun. The quiet room, in the quiet condo, in the quiet town felt very lifeless.

“OK, so I clearly didn’t go to the beach today. In fact, I’ve been sitting here, talking to myself and minding my own business for hours, with nothing happening.” For the 34 year old woman sitting quietly for the past several hours in her dull white and beige loose fitting pajamas, this was all part of the plan. Looking down, Kim began scrolling through the device which sat on her lap. For the past several weeks, the device remained a mystery. Mostly.

“I know you can do... something. You swapped out my outfits due to different decisions I made.” The tablet Kim played with displayed a timelines of the user’s life. It allowed the user to select a person, and once completed, a timeline of their history appeared. Scrolling left and right appeared to move calendar days, which were selectable. Up and down was... still not fully understood. Each timeline when scrolling vertically seemed to be exactly the same.

“How did you know that...?” Kim quietly spoke to herself as she clicked on a day several months ago. After clicking on the day, a list of decisions appeared as well as the time associated with those decisions. Everything from what to wear, what to eat, where to sit, and anything else one could think of was displayed. When a time was selected, it would expand to display more decisions within a few seconds. Further clicks drilled further down to milliseconds, microseconds, and more. She was mystified how the device knew every thought, both conscious and subconscious.

Kim looked at the decision several days ago to purchase the pajamas she was currently wearing. Some thought bubbles appeared on the device, detailing her train of thought when purchasing it in the store. The dull and lifeless pajamas were not something she would typically wear. However, the prior day Kim changed the decision which had been made in the store. Instead of purchasing the cute plush outfit she wanted, she altered her timeline to choose the drab outfit. Something within her had been altered as well; after making the decision change, there was a small nudge in her mind that maybe the boring pajamas weren’t so bad. In fact, it could well have been the better purchase. They were much cheaper after all, and her bank account changed to reflect having more money due to now having spent less as well.

Checking the clock on the wall, it displayed just after noon, and Kim knew it was time to run a larger test of the device. For the past several days she changed small insignificant things from within the past week, and very little seemed to have changed. In fact, Kim was fairly certain nothing changed and whatever she thought was different was simply her mind and memory betraying her.

“I’ve been sitting in this room for several hours. It’s quiet. It’s dark. I know I haven’t been anywhere else, or done anything else.” With a deep sigh, Kim scrolled her timeline to early in the morning. At 7am she changed her decision from staying home to going to the beach. The closest beach was 2 hours away, and it was a place Kim rarely, if ever, went to. Sand was annoying, the water was clean but salty, and it was too far away. A separate confirmation appeared requesting to keep the time. It wasn’t she fully understood, but had a hunch. The time was set to 11am, a little over an hour earlier.

“There, nothing... hap... ened...” As soon as Kim looked up from the device, she noticed the sand, waves, and ocean in front of her. Her mouth hung open, and her body began to shiver slightly.

“No way. NO. WAY.” She checked the watch on her wrist, and it read 11am. “No fucking way...” The 4’10” Asian woman stood up and looked around with her dark brown eyes. The sun shone brightly, the wind lifted and played with her mid-back length dirty blonde hair which had been altered from jet black the day prior... or so Kim thought was the case, and the sand was burning her feet.

“Oh shit!” With a jump, Kim moved her feet to the sandals which were waiting on the ground before her; right next to the lounge chair she had rented for the day and just stood up from. With awe and confusion, Kim looked down and around at her surroundings. She was in one of her favorite swimsuits, a bright yellow and pink bikini, which was also one of her only swimsuits on account of rarely, if ever, going to the ocean or a pool. Her small petite frame made wearing it easy, but she simply wasn’t too comfortable showing off her body. At least, she usually wasn’t too comfortable; for some reason she felt a little freer standing there in her bikini, as if going to the beach was the right decision and wearing such little clothing wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it could be a little bit fun!

Maybe I should come here more often. Kim thought to herself as she looked around at the scene. She momentarily lifted her yellow sunglasses, something she rarely ever wore, but quickly put them back on due to the sun being so bright.

Sitting back down in her lounge chair, placed just right under the rented umbrella, Kim picked up the device and placed it on her lap. With a pause, she then took off her sunglasses and looked at them. An immediate look of confusion once more took hold.

“I’ve never bought sunglasses.” Lifting the device, Kim brought up the search panel and entered the yellow sunglasses. “In fact, I can’t ever remember buy...ing... Ohhh... Wow... Did you really do that?” After a few seconds, the device returned the day (from a few weeks ago), time, location, decisions, and all other relevant information going back to her first thoughts of buying them several weeks before that. In one set of memories, Kim knew she never bought the sunglasses. In another set of memories, it was clear she did, along with the rationale behind it. The device filled in the blanks to bring her to her current situation of having yellow sunglasses.

Kim flicked her finger on the device once more, and accidentally scrolled vertically. This time however, there was a clear difference between timelines.

“So vertical are all of the other timelines... Huh... I guess that makes sense. Every other change I made was so small, the thumbnails just looked the same. But now I can clearly see the small image for 11am is bright and showing a beach, while the prior one shows my home... It also hasn’t filled in past 11am, although the prior timeline goes out to 12:30pm...” With a quiet hum, Kim flicked through prior timelines and it became immediately clear there was a problem.

“Why are there over 100 of them? I’ve barely used this thing!” With a small smack to the side of the device, Kim let out a huff. She had scrolled back to the beginning and randomly clicked on some of the images. After several clicks in, she could make out some minute differences once the information was zoomed in.

“Since when did I have only 2 breasts?!” Bringing her right hand to her chest, Kim felt each of her three small A cups across her chest. There was nothing uncommon at all to having three breasts, although admittedly it was quite difficult to get a bikini that catered to her. In fact, almost impossible. However, her fear of sticking out was the real reason she hated to wear such revealing swimsuits. Three breasts were quite normal, but it wasn’t the majority, or anything close to it. In fact, she was the only one she could think of that had such a condition. Completely normal.

“I guess I’ll get to these other settings later... I know I played around with some of them, I just can’t recall what they all do.” Options such as Awareness, Duration, and other items in the menu could be experimented with later. Sub-options were available as well. Awareness had checkboxes for ‘Self’, ‘Partner’, ‘Everyone Else’, and a freeform entry. ‘Self’ was checked off.

Kim took several deep breaths and watched the tide roll in and out. People were running around, having fun, and in general enjoying themselves. Looking to each side of her lounge chair, Kim felt an emptiness at not having someone beside her. Many people were having fun with someone else, and here she was sitting alone. The loneliness was the main reason she spent so many hours reading books, or weeks trying to figure out a mystery device in any available spare time. Dating was a hassle and never seemed to work out. After all, it was hard to live up to her love.

I wonder if I should have said ‘yes’. Another sigh escaped as Kim watched the beach scene in front of her and thought back to her love from many years prior. They had been together for several years and seemed perfect for each other. However, her love received a prestigious position in a location over a thousand miles away in their field of biology and technology. It was too much for Kim; new friends, no family, very large city, too noisy, too crowded. The list was long, and she couldn’t bear to leave her small idyllic town. Truth be told, she was scared of such a drastic change. Scared of moving forward in her life towards new horizons.

But... I can’t see how it would have worked out. And if it didn’t, as I expect it wouldn’t have, I suppose I can always come back here! It would be nice seeing them again... Kim mindlessly scrolled vertically through the device, reminding herself that all changes can be undone. Just pick and choose a timeline, and apparently you would just appear within it!

Bringing the tablet into her line of sight, Kim scrolled across her current timeline to when she said ‘no’. It wasn’t difficult to find, since her love asked her to come with them at least 30 times before actually leaving. Probably more.

“Here we go. This... painful memory.” The timeline image displayed the last time Kim said ‘no’ to moving with her love. It was the last time they spoke, and they parted on a sad and unhappy note.

“Unhappy no more. I’ll change it to a ‘yes’! At least I...” As soon as the change was made, Kim’s speech was cut off due to her surprise that she found herself in what appeared to be a cocktail party. The beach day was gone, and in fact, it never happened now.

“It’s amazing how well you’re recovering! That was a horrible accident, but it’s wonderful just how you... no, just how both of you... have pulled through!” A well-dressed woman spoke to... her? Kim?

“Yes, well, I’ve had a lot of support!” Kim’s voice responded as if on auto-pilot. It was definitely her voice, but there was something a little different about it that she couldn’t quite place.

“And to go so far and show off such new technology! You really are a trailblazer. Seeking out new horizons for yourself and others! Can I see how it works?” The women had a wide grin, and clear excitement. Leaning forward, she clinked her wine glass against someone else’s. It took a few moments for Kim to realize it was her own glass that she was holding which was clinked against.

“Oh absolutely! I always love attempting new things to help out!” Kim heard nervousness in her own voice. It also sounded much further away than the first response. What the hell is going on?

“Love, why don’t you go freshen up?” The voice next to her continued, but at a whisper as they leaned over and spoke in her ear. “I know how you hate these interactions. Asking about what happened, and praising you for it. Go escape for a few minutes and I’ll handle them.” Turning her head, Kim smiled as widely as possible. Her love, the one she let get away was next to her, helping her.

Why are they... so short? Kim’s legs moved, again on auto-pilot. Walking away from the interaction, Kim looked around the room and attempted to gather her thoughts.

They were so tall. 6’4” to my 4’10”. I was at least the same height if not taller when I glanced over! Maybe heels? No... that wouldn’t make up the difference... Kim found her way to the women’s restroom, walked in, and stood before the mirror. Staring back in the mirror was Kim. A clearly much taller version of herself, which happened to be wearing a sleek black sleeveless cocktail dress. A small black purse hung over her shoulder by a gold chain.

“What the hell is that?!” Her voice was, once more, hers but there was something very off about it. “My mouth!” Kim’s entire mouth was missing, and replaced by... nothing. Skin was simply in the location her mouth should be. Near her eyes were lines, connecting the corner of each eye with her ear.

“Where is my voice coming from!?” As she spoke, a pink light lit up on her throat. “No... it can’t be...” Once more, a pink light blinked when she spoke. While it was her voice, there was something slightly different about it. That difference was the voice modulation due to speaking from a speaker in her throat.

“But... what hap... ened...” Kim somehow knew there was another way to speak. And when she attempted once more, it was obvious where the voice was coming from. Placing the small black purse on the sink counter, Kim unzipped it quickly and picked up a tube of... something. Kim twisted it around to figure out what she was looking at.

“No... it can’t be...” Her voice was now loud and clear. A pair of lips had just spoken at the end of the tube. “My mouth is at the end of a fleshlight!?” Memories continued to stream in. They had been there before, but being overwhelmed by the reality shift took her attention away from everything sorting itself out. Her love wanted to test portal technology they were working on. Not only could they test it out in public, but they could make it a little secret between them. No one ever needed to know it was at the end of a fleshlight, and no one was ever going to look in the bag where the voice was coming from. All anyone needed was to hear the voice from elsewhere.

But why didn’t they just take my mouth and put it on the end of the fleshlight? Why use a portal? Wait... take my mouth...?! Kim looked back to herself in the mirror. While the area where her mouth should be was smooth skin, it became obvious it was solely on account of makeup. There was a portal hidden on her face when she moved closely towards the mirror. However, there was a bigger issue at hand.

What happened to me?! Why can someone take my mouth off?! Kim lifted her right hand to touch her face, but abruptly stopped. Her bright pink eyes opened wide as she paused to look at the top of her hand. Each finger had similar lines as she saw on her face.

‘Warning: Core Temperature Rising’ flashed in her left eye in yellow text on the upper left side of her vision.

Memories continued to pour in, and they finally made a vague picture, but one that was good enough to piece a few things together. There was a horrible accident, and her love moved her into a robotic body. Parts, such as her mouth, could be moved around, on, off, or elsewhere, which they apparently had fun with in private. Her height was due to the new body; her love had purposefully made her body just slightly taller than their own. After all, it was only right to let Kim be tall after so many years of being the shorter one, and by quite a large amount.

The auto-pilot movement of her body was also solved. She could be commanded, and her body will follow without question, even if her mind didn’t agree. The reason she was able to hold the conversation so readily was due to her programming, while she was just a passenger listening in. Her love knew how anxious she got in large crowds, particularly with her new body. The night was meant as easy way to raise money; the cocktail party was showcasing the latest technologies to help fundraise. The programming let Kim enjoy herself without having to exert effort. The lines she saw were the joints of the coverings on her new body.

No... this can’t be real!

‘Warning: Core Temperature Rising’ The previous yellow text was now orange.

Scrambling, Kim looked around for the device, but it was nowhere to be found. She moved back and forth within the restroom, hoping she just dropped it somewhere. Her anxiety increased with each step.

“I must find it!” Her voice echoed out from the fleshlight sitting on the counter. In anger, Kim hit the fleshlight, which knocked her bag to the ground as well. Oddly, she felt and tasted the floor when her lips fell on it. Stopping momentarily, Kim wiped her mouth with her arm... at least, she attempted to. It was just a reaction, and she succeeded in wiping her nullified face where her mouth should be.

“Yeah! That’s it! Let’s get out of here!” The device was sitting on the ground. It had slid out of her purse when it fell. “Wait... is that... it…?” Her voice was off to the side, somewhere near the door, which is where the fleshlight came to a rest. Kim picked the device up in her hand, however it was much smaller than before. Instead of a tablet, it was the size of a mobile. It looked exactly like it had before. Just smaller.

With a deep breath, Kim touched the side, where she expected the ‘on’ button to be. Or at least, where the sensor was to be; there was no actual physical button of any kind on the device. While she was fixated with getting the device turned on, she failed to notice when she attempted to take a deep breath, air did not actually move in and out. Her body simply reflected the movement.

The device came to life, and the current timeline displayed on the screen. With satisfaction, Kim took her right index finger and slid the screen vertically.

Nothing happened.

Kim attempted to slide the screen vertically once more.

Nothing happened once more.

With rapidly increasing frustration, Kim attempted to click the image of the beach, which was halfway showing at the top of the screen.

Nothing continued to happen.

As her mind began racing, and her anxiety rose sharply, Kim looked at her finger. Memories flooded to the fore once more. Her skin looked and felt like normal skin, but the underlying properties of it were anything but skin. Touch screen devices were a problem for her synthetic skin since they wouldn't detect it, something her new memories began filling in.

‘Warning: Core Temperature Critical. Shutting Down’ The orange text had now changed to red.

Kim realized she was entirely unable to use the device. She was entirely unable to return home. She was entirely unable to go back to her prior timeline, much less any timeline!

Upon that desperate realization, her robotic body shut down.

My prompt above is just an idea about how to start the story and roleplay, and there are many paths and ways to move forward. All of my RPs heavily include transformations, and I generally play consensual or dub-con. I very rarely play non-con.

For the other character, they can be the long lost partner, a close friend, or someone else from another timeline with different events happening than in the post. I'd also be quite happy playing the other character! Overall, the general setup can be modified (send your ideas!) and the transformations and subsequent story open for discussion.

The style above is also how I usually roleplay and write posts, and I’m seeking the same. My posts are usually very detailed, long, and there can easily be quite some time between responses (days, weeks, or even months) due to ever-changing schedules and a very chaotic and busy real-life. Real-life always comes first, and I would expect the same of anyone else. I recognize this isn't most writer's usual style, but feel free to reach out if you’re up for it, or even to discuss overall ideas.

As with any of my roleplays, I'm primarily looking for:

• Literate / Advanced Literate style

• Story-driven

• Contains many types of transformations as the story progresses

• Long-term, with a story and not a simple scene

• Third-person

My transformation interests (in no particular order):

• Body part steal / swap / absorption / movement

• Attribute or trait steal / swap / absorption

• Reality shifts

• Multiple / less body parts

• Race changes (possibly including speech and communication issues)

• General body modifications (breast, genitalia, etc...)

• Mind / personality changes

• Partial animals

• Some inanimate / dollification

• Some gender

• Latex / rubber skin

• Light humiliation or teasing

• Many others, due to the depth of TF's available

Not interested in the following (sorry!):

• Anything filthy or non-con

• Crossdressing / Sissification

• Furries

• (Unrealistic) Inflation / Expansion

• Giantess / Shrinking

If you find any of this or any of my other posts interesting just send a direct message!

P.S. Please (please!) if you're going to send a message, let me know what you're interested in, such as characters, changes, story line, arcs, etc... A sentence or two just saying you're interested doesn't move us forward. I put thought and effort into my messages, and I look for the same. Would also love to see writing samples, if available!

Hey everyone! I’m back tonight with another DC comics based RP.

My previous DC prompt is still up, and I am open to playing either of the ideas. Feel free to check it out!

I’m looking for someone who does literate style RP. I exclusively RP in third-person POV. I expect detailed, multi-paragraph posts. I also expect that you know your character well enough to play them convincingly. The characters should ideally be based on their comic book counterparts (not those of video game/cinematic/animated universes, etc.)

The RP is intended to be a mix of story and smut. I hope to explore the relationship development of the characters throughout the progression of the story.

Kinks and other details will be discussed in DM’s. Your ideas and suggestions are welcome, send me a message and we’ll brainstorm!

Hope to hear from you soon.

This is a roleplay that is based around a female original character, and one of the canon characters mentioned below.

This character is named Elara, also known as Subject El-14. Elara was a clone of Powergirl, who was the result of a secret resurrection of project Cadmus. (or, the result of stolen research)

Upon escaping the facility she spent her entire life in, Elara begins wreaking havoc on the city. She has a severe distrust and resentment of humans, as she regards them as the same as those who experimented on her, and kept her caged. She knows very little of the outside world, nor does she understand the full extent of her capabilities. She knows nothing about Krypton, Superman, Superboy, or her genetic template, Power Girl.

Your character is the one who managed to capture Elara and take her into custody. The idea is that Y/C manages to talk her down from her intentions of vengeance, and she gradually starts to trust him. Y/C ultimately helps her understand who/what she is, as well as navigate the strange world around her.

Characters for this plot are listed in order of preference for this particular rp-

Tim Drake (Main Choice)

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Conner Kent (potentially)

STARTER:

When she set out to conquer Gotham, she hadn’t anticipated there would be anyone capable of stopping her. The miserable city was overrun with corruption, violence and criminality. The deplorable city had well earned its nightmarish reputation. There was potential for power, and in the right hands, it could be exploited to the fullest extent. Subject EL-14, also known as ‘Elara’, had decided that she would be the one to claim that power, no matter what stood in her way. She had to topple the pre-existing empire, whether it be mobsters, bats or clowns. Make no mistake, she wasn’t doing it for the sake of the cities civilians. She was doing it for herself. However, Elara hadn’t anticipated there would be anyone capable of stopping her.

The room she was in felt oddly reminiscent to those back in the compound. Red Sun, While much less harmful than Kryptonite, weakened her powers greatly, and reduced her strength to essentially human level while exposed to its effects. She recalled being placed in similar confinement when her handlers wished to subdue or punish her. Her memories were fragmented, but none of them were things she wanted to remember. Whoever it was that created her had done so with the intent of weaponizing her. It had only been a matter of time before she decided to control her own fate. The last thing she fully remembered was coming into consciousness amongst the rubble and ruins of the compound she called her home. She didn’t quite know what happened, simply that it was her own doing. When she left, she was on her own, there was nobody pulling the strings, nobody holding her back.

Her resentment towards the humans-the people that made her- grew with each day. After so long of feeling powerless and exploited, her newfound control began to manifest into an obsession with her powers. She was practically a god amongst mortals, and she was no longer someone else’s puppet, trapped in a cage. She could do what she wanted, she could use her power for her own gain. A glimpse of a news broadcast featuring Gotham City inspired her to take action. She’d started studying the city, rapidly discovering everything she thought there was to know. The one thing she had underestimated was him, and that was the mistake that landed her here.

She’d thought the strange man posed very little threat. It had seemed that way at first. Unfortunately, he was more intelligent and better prepared than she had expected. He managed to capture her, and she didn’t know why. He had been trying for weeks, attempting everything from trying to reason with her, to engaging her in combat. If anything, he was persistent. She’d misjudged him as a rookie and it ultimately backfired. It seemed he had a bit of experience with Kryptonians, and had access to technologies the average person did not. She didn’t trust him, she refused to cooperate or reveal anything. She’d foolishly wasted a large portion of her energy trying to escape the room, though her attempts were futile. She was stuck there.

Elara was around five foot seven, she had a feminine build, her body was toned and muscular in a proportionate way. Her hair was silky straight, a dark shade of natural red, that contrasted with her pale skin. Her eyes were a piercing blue, a trait she unknowingly shared with genetic relatives. Her natural beauty was evident even whilst she scowled at the strange man, as if a glare would implore him to free her, or alternatively, cause him drop dead.

She had been in the room for one-hundred-and-twenty-nine hours. Initially, after her attempts at escape, she’d been pacing around, evidently uncomfortable with the confinement, clearly demonstrating a bit of claustrophobia. She had stubbornly refused to reveal any information to him, to provide any explanation for herself. Five days in, Elara decided enough was enough. Perhaps they could come to some type of agreement, regardless, she wanted out of that room, and she wanted out as soon as possible. She’d spent her entire life in captivity, and she had no desire to experience it again. She decided to finally hear him out.

It's finally yours. You've walked past the building every day for the last four years, never able to resist peeking into the windows to see what's going on inside. Sometimes it was a house, sometimes a gathering place, sometimes a thaumerie, a shop, a library. You've seen every side of this building as you've walked past it, and now you'll be able to create your own.

You know what the building wants to be, of course. The purpose for which it was originally built: a tavern. Three storeys high, with a wide-open downstairs area and two floors of rooms for guests to spend the night. It's perfect. It will be perfect.

But this won't be any ordinary tavern. No, the city has enough of those; Ephra doesn't want for spots to drink. You'll offer something extra. All your staff, and yourself, should you choose, will be on offer for patrons to sample according to their wishes. A combination pub and brothel, the first of its kind in Ephra.

And now, as you stand fidgeting before the clerk, your mind is already working away at how you're going to achieve this. For as much as you want it, you can't do it alone; you've never so much as worked a service job before, let alone whored yourself out for money. You'll need help, and lots of it.

A thousand paths sit before you, branching off the moment the stamp comes down on the deed. Which will you choose?

• • • • •

Hi all! I'm Charlie, and I'll be your GM today. The scene, as laid out above, is fairly solid in its premise: you're the new owner of a combination tavern and whorehouse, where patrons may whet their lips or their dicks according to their likes. Beyond the premise, though, the direction we take this is entirely up to you. I've run this once before with one partner, and I might reuse certain plot beats from that, but your story will otherwise be entirely original, and shaped by your actions.

And I do see this being a story, as much as an excuse for us to cook up something steamy. If you're only interested in smut, move on; I'm looking for someone who's interested in both smut and story. Narrative and plot is a huge deal for me, and I can't enjoy writing erotica unless there's something underpinning it. Not to say there won't be tons of steamy, raw, primal sex, but I think it's easier to enjoy that if there's structure around it too.

A big focus of this play, and the main reason I want to do it, is the idea of recruitment. I have dozens of characters saved up from my roleplays over the years, and I'd love to share some of them. They'll appear throughout the world as either recruitable employees or contacts, for you to interact with as you wish. If you like someone, ask them to stick around! If you don't, you never need to see them again.

I would be particularly interested in playing with a partner who's willing to engage with beastfolk and non-human races. I've had a great deal of success in the past with people whose taverns have specifically catered to marginalised demographics, and I think it's a nice theme to include.

Now, about me. I'm a uni student who's about to get VERY busy with her course, so I'm not looking for 24-7 engagement. However, I would enjoy a certain amount of responsiveness, maybe at least a message per day and more if we're both around. I also expect literacy. Typos don't bother me if they're infrequent (I guarantee I've made at least one in this post); my standards are much more concerned with how you write, your voice, etc. I am quite picky about this, but I won't apologize for it, since I know for the right partner it can work perfectly.

I will write at least one decently sized paragraph per response, but I'm less concerned with volume than I am about how it feels. My aim is always to give my partner something to bounce off, so it doesn't feel like writing with a brick wall. Think 'yes, and'.

You can find kinks and limits on my profile (check the pinned post), but I'll hit the limits quickly here. Dirty feet, piss drinking, scat, gore, noncon/dubcon, pregnancy, the word "cervix", and bad grammar.

I prefer to write on Discord, but message me here first and we can see if we click before moving over there. Looking forward to seeing your orange envelopes!

My phone vibrated in my pocket, a rare call from my best friend. I slipped away from the noise and chaos, picking it up with a worried "What's wrong?"

Andrea rushed to reassure me. “Nothing, I promise! Just...do you mind if I bring a friend to dinner? I just found out he’s got no family in the area, was going to spend Thanksgiving alone. And I know how much your parents like taking in strays.”

I pinched my nose, ducking my head down. As much as I kinda hated it just then, she was right– my mother would love it if she got to dote on someone stuck here with no family. “Yeah, that’s fine. We made enough for an army anyway, a last-minute addition should be no problem.”

“Great, thanks. See you in a few.”

I hung up, hustling to let my mother know that Andrea was bringing an extra mouth to feed. As expected she was ecstatic but frantic, sweeping me and a few others into those last-minute tasks before dinner went out. When Andrea’s voice rang out from the foyer, I glanced up to see my mother bustle out of the kitchen.

It was fair to assume that mom would settle both you and Andrea in the back room before coming back; instead you shuffled into the kitchen behind her, looking around like you’d never seen a disaster like this before. “...and this is my daughter, Ellie.” As politeness dictated, I shut the oven and stood up, crossing the small space with an outstretched hand. It took nearly everything I had not to shamelessly look you up and down, and the rest of it to keep from biting my lip. Instead I smiled, fitting my hand into yours and giving it a brief shake. A wonderfully deep bass filled the small room as you introduced yourself. I felt it against my skin, had a flash of my name on those lips in bed. Fuck. Sparkling blue eyes caught mine, and I had a feeling you knew exactly what had just happened and were very used to it.

You’re such a sucker, Ellie.

Gently I shooed you out of the kitchen, taking a moment to watch that lovely backside disappear into the living room. A few minutes later we sat down to dinner, you across from me for some god only knows what reason. I didn’t need a lesson in humiliation, didn't want to participate in whatever matchmaking scheme Andrea had cooked up. So I busied myself talking to my cousins and my sister, but you kept catching my eye and smiling. Your voice knifed through the din, so easily reaching across the table that we had no choice but to loop you in. You were charming, witty, funny, and you had my mother eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. Actually, I think you had my mother eating out of the palm of your hand the second she opened the door. The woman was blushing. She never blushed.

I’d never seen such a charm offensive in my life. And worse, it was working. I wanted to get my hands on you so badly I ached with it, and so I did the only thing I could think to do: I escaped.

After dinner Andrea found me in the spare bedroom, pacing in front of the pile of coats. “Will you fucking relax, Ellie? Your jaw is clenched so tight I can see it ticking.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” I hissed back, glancing into the hall. It looked like the bathroom was occupied, but otherwise we were alone.

Andrea sighed, exasperation and irritation and anger all rolled into one sound. “There’s nothing going on, you paranoid weirdo. He’s cute, he’s single, and the entire house can see that he likes you, but you’re being a spaz. C’mon, John was two years ago. I know you’re not getting any. Just unfuck your head and get in the game.”

I snorted. “Easy for you to say. You know, ever since you settled down into domestic bliss you've been awfully obnoxious about my sex life.”

"She's been obnoxious about mine, too."

Andrea glanced over my shoulder. “You have lovely timing."

I couldn't help but groan, scrubbing a hand over my face before turning to face you. You leaned on the doorjamb, your expression shadowed by the light falling in from the hall. I swore I could pick out the barest hint of a smile.

"I appreciate the backup, but that wasn't meant to be overheard."

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it. I've been told I've got a bit of a white knight thing sometimes."

"Not an excuse," Andrea murmured as she slipped past you out into the hall. "But just this once, I'll allow it. Behave yourselves, now."

“Behave yourselves, she says. I don't think I believe her when she says this wasn't planned.” I crossed my arms over my chest defensively.

"She talks about you all the time. I had to see for myself," you said softly, light limning those wonderfully broad shoulders. Suddenly I had the nearly uncontrollable urge to bite you.

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. Disappointment filled my soft "Ah."

You pushed off the doorjamb, taking a few steps into the room. "Look, this wasn't a setup. It wasn't some long-con plan. My family is in Alaska, and I couldn't make it home because I'm broke from moving. I didn't tell Andrea until today, and she called you before I could register an objection." Now it was your turn to look uncomfortable, and you gave a tight shrug. "I did ask to meet you, and the idea of spending the holiday with a big family like yours… I couldn't pass it up."

"So here we are."

"Here we are."

I took a moment to study you, stepping close enough to catch a hint of spice in the air. Why did you smell so good? My resolve couldn't withstand both the heady scent and the clearly penitent look on your face, your hunched shoulders. So I reached out, laying a hand on the curve of your bicep and watching that tension slide away. "You're fine. I probably would've done the same in your shoes. Besides, having a stranger or two at the table is practically a family tradition." I stepped closer, hesitated… then pressed a kiss to your stubbly cheek before my courage failed me. "C'mon, the last thing I want is for someone to notice we've both gone missing at the same time. I'll never hear the end of it.”

Well, it's that time of year again--looking for some holiday-themed warm and fuzzy roleplay. This prompt is a one-shot, but open to something long term if we click. Please be willing to write at least a few sentences per post, as I can be long-winded. No chat requests.

“That’s all you want for groceries?” Their roommate called out.

“Yeah! N-No! Wait. Get me more of that dessert wine!” the other roommate had to yell a little louder, they were in the living room.

“Junk food, wine, and synthetic blood in a can for the vampire. Okay! I’ll be off then, Sky. Just please make sure to answer your phone...”

“Uh-huh,” Sky nodded as their roommate’s voice drifted away, they had other things on their mind.

With a final goodbye the roommate walked out the front, locked the door, and their steps receded down the driveway. Sky peeled back the curtain out the front window of the living room, watching as the blonde man entered the car and pulled out of the driveway in moments. They waited for another minute or two watching the car disappear down the street.

“Finally...” Sky muttered, and walked to their room that was past the hallway and the kitchen.

As a precaution Sky closed the door to their room. But really there was no reason to actually lock it. Grocery trips usually took close to an hour (they timed it once out of boredom), and Sky never lasted that long on a routine masturbation session anyways, especially when it was this bad. There was also that joy of having an intimate private moment with themselves that was something that they lusted after, after all being loud about it was fun and the vampire really could just revel in pleasure for a bit.

Sky’s room was modest, a desk off to the side with their workstation. Some plants by the windowsill that grew in minimal light. A small bookcase near the desk filled with books on museums, art history books of different ages, and art books from their favorite movies and games. On the opposite side was the dresser and another large bookshelf with a random assortment of books on plants, crime, some random new age topics, some journals, and a worn out badge. Tucked into a corner was their bed, a welcoming sight of navy blue and grey sheets with matching pillows. Underneath the bed was a treasure trove of pleasurable things. Vibrators of different sizes in one plastic box, and a plethora of different alien and creature dildos in a custom made container. Some had a rainbow theme, others were opulent. Some even were glow-in-the-dark. It was a stupidly expensive hobby, if anyone could call it that.

They pulled out the one they affectionately named after their roommate and grabbed a small bullet vibrator from the other box before making themselves comfy again on the bed. Taking off their clothes and settling into the bed they couldn’t help but be a little paranoid about him actually coming back. But the second one of their fingers brushed against the little soft curls of hair between their legs and teased the swollen clit nestled there, the worry seemed to fade away. Dark brown nipples stood at attention as Sky turned their head to the side, letting a small moan escape their lips.

Underneath the baggy leisure clothes were curves that Sky felt the need to conceal outside of the apartment. Small and soft perky breasts, brown skin kissed by black ink along their arms that hid scars, the curve of their hips and the fullness of their thighs. Slim was the best way to describe Sky at first glance, but it was their overall appearance that made people look at them. ‘A cute guy’ or ‘sexy tomboy’ were words that Sky had heard in the last couple of years, and it was fine either way.

The lustful thoughts running in their head had been fueled by the last date their roommate had been on (he had a habit of not bringing the same woman home more than twice). Honestly it was an accident, Sky had been working late on a painting restoration at the museum and signal had always been spotty in the workshop, so the text didn’t show up till they made it home. It was obvious by the scent in the apartment that he had brought someone home but it was quiet for a while. Then that all familiar sound of the bed creaking and a woman moaning was enough to get the message across. Sky went out drinking for a while with one of the only vampire friends they had, it had felt like a long night that time. The fact they were thinking about it again felt like a crime, but it felt good regardless.

“A-Ah…” Sky moaned out his name, trying to picture their roommate between their legs and imaging what his tongue must have felt like against their clit. Truth be told they were still a virgin with a good imagination.

That thought worked them up a bit, hips and legs twitched as the first wave rolled through them. When the vibrator finally made its presence known it worked as wonderfully as the first time Sky found out about those things. Their clit pulsed and as another rush of pleasure came. The familiar dampness that dripped down their lower lips and clung around the inner parts of their thighs, and that all to familiar ache of wanting to be fucked weighed heavy. Sky couldn’t help but cry out his name again and again, a fervent prayer almost. They thrusted their hips back and forth grinding their swollen clit on the vibrator that aggressively drove them to another climax. They turned it off, seeing flashes of stars dancing around their eyes. It would’ve been poetic if they hadn’t felt so sensitive down there. “Maybe that was a bit too much,” Sky’s voice was a little shaky.

Still they hadn’t even gotten to the dildo. The dildo itself looked almost like a human penis, minus the colors of sky blue and pearl white. What was more striking was the bulb near the base, it was a knot. The reality was that the roommate was a werewolf. Not surprising really. He was a nice guy, and it helped that he was tidy. It was bound to happen though, living together for close to a year now, Sky caught some feelings here and there. The idea of their roommate pounding them with a thick canine cock was something that made Sky groan in utter bliss, as the dildo parted their soft puffy pussy lips and slid in effortlessly. They weren’t winning any awards for ‘best roommate’ by trying to imagine what he looked like in his werewolf form.

It didn’t matter at that moment. Bouncing up and down that silicone cock and wishing it were his as they pinched one of their nipples letting out a small whimper. Sky was close to slipping down to the hilt of the dildo as the bulbous knot made itself known just sitting against the entrance. “F-Fuck…”

The vampire was curious, in all honesty, to see what he looked like in his werewolf form. That of course was reserved just as Sky’s own true form was. It was common in packs or covens but for stuff of this nature, no. It was an unspoken law through all the demi-humans that had forms other than human. It wasn’t as if Sky was part of his pack or family even.

How was it that he explained it? Werewolves could be made or born into, and it was a thing you learned to control. A full moon, like with any magical being, heightened their powers; so when they were younger they would shift into werewolves uncontrollably. It was easier to control as an adult, but full suppression of it was never advised. It was a recipe for disaster.

Vampires on the other hand weren’t so weak to sunlight as to burst into flames but it was still possible to be seriously injured by it. It was easy to spot a vampire sometimes outside, usually they were covered head to toe in the daylight. Crosses and holy water had no effect since all of them were once human. Abilities varied and some covens treated it like a science experiment. Of course every vampire had a true form, it varied on who was their sire. Many didn’t like suppressing their hunger and there were times and places for it. Sky on the other hand fought their nature at every turn, making the effort to take only just enough. They knew what it was like to give in and run loose and part of the reason why Sky had moved here since, the roommate they were lusting over for in this moment, had been looking for a roommate.

Maybe that’s what it was. Having this werewolf as a roommate helped to keep Sky in check. All he asked of them was to make sure not to bring any meals home and that did help a lot mentally. Sky in turn tried to act a little more human, eating dinner with their roommate. Even if they couldn’t taste much from the meals he cooked, it was still a nice normality. That was probably twisting niceness into some kind of attraction...

Whatever it was, that thought itself was fleeting.

A dildo couldn’t criticize, it was always ready to serve. It couldn’t love or hold, but it wouldn’t reject the one who used it. Pleasure was fleeting like too many things. For now Sky could ride this thing till kingdom come in bliss and lose themselves in an imaginary scenario where love and affection existed for someone like them. Craving for touch and love but terrified at the thought they would never be enough. Hands stained with blood. A curse etched deeply in their heart.

“Fuck… f-fuck me just like th-a…ah-that…” Sky’s moans sounded too desperate and needy reduced to begging, it was almost too much. “I’m gonna c-… a-ah…” just like that the knot slid in.

Unfortunately for Sky, they were too busy moaning and fucking themselves with that dildo to notice their roommate coming back, having forgotten the list of groceries on the kitchen counter. Nor did they notice that they actually hadn’t closed the door all the way.

He hadn’t meant to stay, but the sound of his name being called drew the werewolf into a bit of a panic at how muffled Sky had sounded and hurt; until he realized what was actually happening. It was in the air too, the arousal. Sweet and very tempting. The sight of Sky riding that knotted dildo and calling out his name like that was baiting the wolf to come out. The wolf in him wanted nothing more than to give what they were begging for and that unsettled him.

Restraint and respect won though as he grabbed the list and beelined out of there.

‘Close your door next time, Sky!’ that was the only text he had sent to them.

It was gonna be awkward for a while once Sky finished and read the text...

Hey everyone! still open and looking

As you might have noticed Sky uses she/they since they're non-binary. This is flexible!
Sky is around 5’6 and doesn't look a day over 25 for a vampire that's some hundred+ years old. She has black hair that’s usually kept in a messy crew-cut, she dyes it black a lot and it grows a little fast when she's had her fill of blood. They wear baggy sweats at home, and if they go out they wear turtlenecks and black jeans with black boots. Her skin is brown, and she is fairly slim looking. She's got small B cup breasts with cute dark nipples. She has hips though and a cute perky butt that sticks out like a sore thumb whenever she has to wear form fitting clothes. Some tats here and there. I tend to write her as bit of a jokester and reserved about her past. She is a virgin though (I swear this is important lol).

We can always brainstorm and worldbuild together. I do prefer OOC talk too during RPs. It takes place in modern times, just think of it like almost an alternate Earth I guess.
So for the plot it's a little loose; we can work on the together. The main emphasis for this was that I would like a slow burn romance to be part of it. Like sure they can just bang one out, but then comes the whole 'what are we' and whatever other hangups the two have while going through what is part of their daily lives.

so what am I looking for?
Someone to play the blonde werewolf of her affections lol. 3rd person, and please give me a description of your character before we write!! No exceptions. Also PMs and Reddit , but discord is a big maybe. Literate is okay. But I do like using the PM system in reddit a lot.
In my head the werewolf character has probably commitment issues? Really anything to just drive the drama a little more, but the thing is that he means well, or tries to anyways.

I’m fine with this being a slow build up. This is open to anyone! There can be dark themes just not when it comes to sex.

Forgot to mention!! There will be at some point werewolf sex, I mean that is a given that the two would get down with that form.

Kinks: getting knotted, receiving and giving oral, facial, vanilla, hand holding during sex, saying I love you, werewolves, light biting, mate press, breeding without the pregnancy, light roughness, aftercare, scratching, some light blood drinking maybe, drama, romance, angst

Turn offs: anal, bathroom stuff, gore, vore, pain, death