I’m 25F and I have long had a fantasy of a travel fuck buddies.. I term that as when a married man and married woman who are sneaky decide to go on a vacation together. Its more about the sex and the scenery than the actual travel. Sure in the morning we might be going up the mountain cable cars in the alps admiring the scenery together but at night you are balls deep inside and our room is filled with nothing but our moans. We spend the nights together talking about our lives while parttaking in the lust that we have for each other. Wouldn't it be nice? A sweet beach facing room and you over me sliding back and forth in to me as we kiss each other and the sun glistens over us from the windows. That quick butt grope from you when we get on a ride or a bus. That stare I give you at times when we are out exploring or right after dinner...

I would love to chat about this with you. What excites you about a scenario like this? Where would we go for vacation? How often would we have passionate lustful sex? and more!

If you are interested then send me a chat and lets get chatting! I prefer to have a conversation than a RP and prefer someone that is detailed and intimate 🙂

Gotham was quiet. Not the usual kind, it was as if tonight the city was on a break. The police radio was silent, there was no disturbance in Arkham, and it seemed as if even Joker was on vacation, at least while in prison.

"All seems good tonight, Master Wayne. Would you be coming in early perhaps?" Alfred's voice came through, as Bruce peered down the street, his eyes moving and looking for anything that seemed out of the ordinary, yet it appeared that even the rats had taken a break. He could do another round of patrol, maybe catch up with Jim and see if there were any cases that needed his attention.

"Maybe...hold that thought, Alfred." A familiar rush of air hit his back, his cape being ruffled just a bit as he felt someone land just behind him, a smirk forming on Batman's face.

"And here I thought I would get an early night off." Turning around, it wasn't the familiar 'S' symbol that greeted him. It was instead the figure of a curvaceous, strong, and alluring woman. Dressed in her usual crime fighting attire, Diana flashed Bruce a smile, a chuckle escaping her lips.

"Did I ruin that for you?" Diana, also known to the world as Wonder Woman, teased her fellow Justice League member, who simply shook his head, all traces of humour gone from his face.

"Not at all, just a bit surprised. You don't come to Gotham often, something the matter?" Diana rolled her eyes, coming closer as she could distinctly smell his cologne, raising an eyebrow at the paranoid man.

"All business with you, isn't it Bruce? Still, I appreciate you getting to the point. As much as I would have liked to drop by for idle chatter, there is a matter that I need your assistance with."

Bruce had a feeling his quiet night was about to become extra long, the smile from the slightly taller woman sending a shiver down his spine.

'Hopefully it doesn't involve any more singing.'

Hey there. Thanks for taking the time to read the post. I'm looking to play out a long term and detailed roleplay for the prompt above. I recently binge watched a lot of JLU and DC content and wanted to see if someone else was interested to play out this pairing. Also if you get the reference I posted in the prompt, please let me know!

Diana, aka Wonder Woman, finds herself in Gotham, needing the assistance of fellow League member Bruce Wayne, or better known to the world as Batman. The specifics are up for discussion- it could be one of her rogues has escaped and landed in Gotham, or there is a mystery artefact that is about to cause havoc if not contained quickly.

I would love to discuss the details and see how this relationship develops by the end of the night. Smut and romance are a big thing, and I would love to add if there is an underlying between the two right from the start. I also prefer if Diana is slightly taller than Bruce, not by a whole lot, but just a bit.

In terms of appearance I'm more than happy going in any direction you prefer. If you're interested please share your detailed intro, kinks and limits, and any ideas you had for the roleplay. My kinks and limits as below, hope we can chat soon!

Kinks: Blowjob, Deepthroat, Creampie, Heels, public, risky, groping, spanking, romance, foreplay, cuddling, wholesome, teasing elements, slow burn, group, different outfits, rough, recording, photos, height difference, casual intimacy, double penetration, interracial, breeding and more

Limits: non and dub con, abuse, vomit, scat, piss, gore, blood, food play, musk, sweat, feet, incest

I remember when I first came to your home. I was nervous to meet my boyfriend's parents. My home life wasn't great, and I generally associated family stuff with neglect and being ignored. So when dinner went well, and everything was great, and I got to stay the night, and the morning was even better...is it possible to fall in love with a family unit?

As the days, weeks, months passed, I was spending more and more time at my boyfriend's house when he wasn't even there. The guest room became my room. I took on chores. I became part of the family. Doubly so for your wife-we started baking together, watching shows together, shopping together, doing girl talk together. She became the mom I wished I had.

She was happy that her son had such a beautiful girlfriend, but I became much more to her. The daughter she never had.

One day, you came home from work to a completely different household. I broke up with your son. He was moping. Yet I was still there. Your wife defended me, that after everything I'd done for your family, and considering how I didn't have anywhere else to go, it would be wrong to kick me out. So I stayed.

As much as your son hated it, it became the new normal. He sulked. I was as curt as possible with him. Me and your wife spent even more time together.

Your wife went on and on about me. "Such a pretty girl", she'd say. Nights where the two of you went to bed without her talking about me, became rare. It got a lot...odder. She mentioned that I had mentioned thinking about getting into the dating game again. That we hugged an extra long time the previous morning. That we went bra shopping.

One of those nights, she threw a major curveball. She suggested...spicing things up in your bedroom. You were afraid when she mentioned "bringing a 3rd person in", but she clarified she didn't mean a man. She meant a woman.

Did she have someone in mind?

(Also open to people who want to play the son or the wife instead!)

Hope you enjoyed that read! I'm looking for someone to play this bizarre combination of cuckqueaning, swinging, threesomes, and cuckoldry (does it count if we're broken up?)

Besides the leadup to our first night together, I'm interested in playing the resulting dynamic. I'm not like your daughter anymore after that. And we can only imagine what happens when (or if) your son finds out.

Aside from that, this is pretty open-ended! Do you have any other sons? Where does the wife fall on the scale of "wants to fuck this girl" vs "cuckqueaning herself"? What are your family’s bodies like? Do you knock me up? (Please yes!!!)

My character description is as follows:
Allie, 5'6", pale white, with long, straight, red hair. Bright green eyes, with a slightly skinny but mostly curvaceous bod. Thick hips, and a 40HH bosom.

Hope to hear from you all soon!

It started off as just harmless fun, I couldn't help myself. I was finally living alone and could do whatever I wanted, let my imagination and inhibitions run wild. I tried to focus mostly on university at first but the thrill of being risky kept pulling me back in. I started off as harmless fun, just a naughty comment on Reddit here and there. Liking and scrolling until my feed was an endless torrent of depravity. Teasing myself for hours as my head was filled with filthy fantasies, it was so addictive. It felt so natural, so right. The shivering pleasure of giving into it.

I was an excited, nervous wreck when I posted my first slightly risqué photo. Nothing too naughty but enough to get that trickle of comments coming through. Each one sending a shiver of lust up my spine, debating if it was too risky to reply to them. I quickly became addicted to that too, I started to daydream about what kind of photo to take next. Spending all day excited to get home, expose myself to all the perverse strangers and hump my pillow until I passed out.

I became more and more risky, writing out all my fantasies as I read every piece of erotica I could find. Fuelling my imagination as I started dressing up, making up my own naughty cosplay ideas and posting them. All the depraved old pervs encouraging me, telling me every detail of what they wanted to do to me. It was too good, I couldn't control myself. Before I knew it, it was all I could think about, my posts becoming more and more revealing.

Some of the messages I got were odd but I couldn't help but talk back, listen to what they had to say. It seemed some all repeated strange, seemingly unimportant words. I didn't think anything of it, I was too busy giving into my overpowering addiction to be risky. I just read each message, confident that I was being careful enough. But the messages kept coming, repeating the same words over and over again, then there were voice messages. Then these pretty, colourful videos. I loved it, it felt even more naughty, what was the harm after all?

Then the final message came, somehow to my own private email. That set alarm bells off in my head but that wasn't enough to stop me from taking a peek. Everything is a blur after that, I answered question after question, telling them everything they wanted. Those same words flowing into my head, making me want to obey, to do what they tell me to. To give in completely.

The next thing I know I'm bound into a helpless ball. Stuffed into a suitcase, blindfolded and gagged, headphones nestled over my ears. A tight collar around my neck. Filled to the brim with my captors cum and plugged with thick, vibrating toys. Being stealthily taken out of my flat to my new life as a Fuckpet to the old pervs who had been hunting me.

____________

I probably got a little carried away with this one but I couldn't help myself! I'm sure it's fairly self explanatory but I love the idea of being too risky, getting slowly brainwashed by a group of old ugly bastards and ending up their pet. The last part is more or less a teaser of what could happen but I'd love to hear all your ideas! Huge plus is your into legs and feet!

I like to write detailed replies that are on the longer side and I often play myself so I really love getting into character.  
My favourite kinks are: mind control, hucow, getting messy, breeding, bondage, BDSM, legs/feet, outfits, monsters, pet play, latex, blackmail, being hunted, erotic horror and many more.

​

I lean over and give my lover one more long lingering kiss. Neither of us want me to get out of the car and go back into my house. Its been the most amazing, intense, passionate 24 hours. The first time I slept over at his place. Sure, we've fucked plenty of times but every other time I've returned to my spineless wimp of a husband. I felt it was best to keep up appearances. But this time I thought "fuck it" and I stayed. So in the post-coital bliss I had slept in my lover's bed, wrapped in his warm, strong arms.

"I cant wait to do this again" I said to him.

"Me neither, you were so hot!" He grinned at me.

"You weren't too bad yourself" I giggled.

"Let me know what your hubby says."

"Oh I will, dont you worry."

I got out of the car and strolled to the front door of the house.

"I'm home" I called out as I hung my coat up.

"Oh my god sweetie, I was so worried, are you okay? What happened?" My hubby came round the corner from the kitchen as soon as he heard the door close. I could see from the look on his face that he hadnt got much sleep and he looked like he'd been crying.

"You really want to know? I asked with a smirk.

"Ummmm...I...I just...I was worried about you."

"Well you needn't have worried, I was in VERY good hands" I laughed to myself. "Now, I'm hungry, go make me breakfast. I built up quite an appetite last night."

"Yes sweetie, of course, I'll make pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup."

"Good boy" I said patronisingly as I flopped down on the couch.

I pulled out my phone and started messaging my lover, "He said nothing. Just like I said, he's too much of a doormat to stand up for himself."

"Noooo, you're kidding, nothing at all?" Came the response.

"I'm not kidding, the wimp is making me breakfast as we speak."

"Oh my god, I got to meet this guy. This is hilarious"

------

I'm not great at roleplaying but I have a deep and intense love of power dynamics, emotional cruelty and unrequited love.

Would be interesting in chatting about these kind of humiliating, semi-abusive cuckolding scenarios or could roleplay if the vibe is right. But please take note, the thing I like is when the cuckold doesn't enjoy it. But he accepts the situation and sacrifices his dignity because of his love for me.

"-vir…"

Her voice couldn't reach him, his mind was awash with the sight before him. The way her brown skin shimmered under candlelight, how her back arched when his hips slammed into her, the sounds she was making. Her hair spilled down her back like a cascade of moonlight, strands clinging to her shoulders as sweat was pooling around.

"W-Wait…" her little pleas fell on deaf ears.

The bed underneath them creaked and groaned, if it broke again so be it. It wouldn't be the last time it did so either.

"Iluvir!" she called out his name so sweetly, he couldn't help but lose himself, grabbing her hips harder and claiming her over and over again. He was forgetting why he rejected her proposal in the first place.

He was giving into pleasure, mind turning into nothing but the beast he was always meant to be. Chasing after her groans and sweet melodic moans, the way she said his name, how she hugged him with her body. He wanted everything she had to offer and more. To claim her as his bride and become a master of his own fate. To be unbound and free.

"Eira," his teeth nipped at the tip of one of her ears, her inner walls squeezed him tightly and he had to fight to control himself, the beast in him was close to winning.

He had been deprived for so long of affections. Just a beast chasing pleasure and taking out all that pent up longing on this poor half-elf. He was almost forgetting about the woman who had chained him to this terrible fate…

Iluvir, a name in old elvish that meant 'moon legs' a large wolf that long ago had terrorized a land. A brave woman from a little village called Nelseserin had used herself as bait, to trap the giant wolf into a marriage and have him pledge his life to protecting the village at her behest. Little did he know it was a trap, cursed forever to protect Nelseserin, for if the little village fell so too would he.

The way the stories went was that every couple of years a 'sacrifice' was offered to Iluvir, the savior of the village in order to spare them a terrible fate. Plagues, sickness, crop failure, events that would wipe out a small place were almost nonexistent, because every year without fail Iluvir would make good on his promise.

Until one year.

Eirawen had been born under a red moon, and already for the little half-elf their existence spelled doom for the village. A place rife with old traditions. The gods had cursed her, leaving her an orphan after a while and in the care of the village elder and his wife. There she had been raised to be the next sacrifice for the Iluvir, learning the old elvish tongues and reading up on the history. All to be a perfect 'wife'.

Little did she know that it just meant being a mortal sacrifice. Anyone who was chosen never was heard from again. The northern mountains where the Iluvir lived was a terrifying place. A place of unending winter, or so Eirawen had been told.

An unending winter graced Nelseserin, and so it was up to Eirawen to save them. At least that's what the village folk and elder had said. She was around 24 summers old, if not a little older; no one had kept track of her age.

Eirawen was no fool though, she knew it was a death sentence for why would someone who was an omen be considered to be the Iluvir's bride? This was just to send her off and have her die in the mountain pass to the Iluvir's home. As far as the village was concerned they were getting rid of an omen who was responsible for the unending winter.

Does the Iluvir find her lost in the mountains? A small thing dressed in white robes and furs like a bride on her wedding, or is he surprised to find her at the foot of the mountain? Or maybe something else, he comes to her and tells her to turn back at the base of the mountain?

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

Hey everyone! So if you squint this is kind of like the 'Bride of Ignat' which I haven't read but I loved the premise of it. It can kind of be like that or something compltelyt different. I'm not super duper married to this prompt, but it's just more of a 'this is how it can go' kind of idea.

I'm looking for someone to play the role of the Iluvir! His name can be whatever you want, the only rthing I ask is that he have a human form and a giant wolf/werewolf form. I'm fine with him looking more like a guy with wolf ears and a tail in his human form, but I like a good monster romance too so there are some hard requirements.

Eirawen's life wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, for her being away from the village's influence is a good thing so she'll do whatever she can to stay with the Iluvir, even if it's not in a romantic capacity. She's around 24-26, a virgin in some capacity (never had sex but knows what handjobs/oral sex is kind-of-thing, because she's done that). Her hair is white like snow fall, her eyes look just like that too, her skin is a warm shade of brown with little beauty marks here and there, scars along her back tell of a rough life. Shapely hips and squeezable thighs, but she's not as curvy uptop. Still the dark brown sensitive nipples are alluring on their own.

Slow burn romance is a must. Story to smut ratio is around 80:20

Multi paragraph (4+) and character description in message (otherwise I'm not looking). Reddit for brainstorming, disc. for rp only. I love yapping OOC and talking about OC stuff too.

Likes

sloppy kisses, tongue kisses, ridiculous amounts of cum, getting knotted, beast, romance, smut, affection, holding hands, saying I love you, bites on the neck (a little bit of blood drinking), light amounts of forcefulness, oral (giving and receiving), size difference, clothed sex, werewolf, hand holding, affection, titjobs, worlbuilding, angst, tragedy

Maybes: exhibition/risky places

Dislikes:

pain, gore, vore, feet, bathroom things, centaur, minotaur, anal, corruption,

That guy looks like a greek god. How can a body be so… defined? Like, he flexes muscles with every move he does. Not even on purpose, it just happens. Picking me up twice would probably be easy for him.

I bit my lips, the thoughts in my head distracting me from the book I was reading. Well that was a lie, what was really distracting me were my brother and his best friend Noah going for an afternoon stay in our whirlpool. They were both incredibly muscular, but Noah was simply hotter… plus unlike my brother we didn’t fight, he was nice to me. Like at this point he had spent so much time at our home that I simply called him my second brother and he called me sis.

So of course I felt bad when I saw him take of his shirt for the first time and all I could think about was him using all those muscles and stamina to pound my pussy into oblivion. It was like there had been a wall and that moment had blown it up. Now he was… hot… desirable… and the fuel to many… many of my fantasies.

Yesterday I had played the weak girl card and had him open a jar for me, while mainly imagining him grabbing my throat with the same tight grip. When I saw them workout with those heavy medicine balls all I wanted for him was for him to throw me around like that too… well it was obvious that the central fantasy was he was a strong men and I wanted the raw experience of what those muscles could do to me.

Sure, it was practically a match made in heaven… the hopeless masochist and the buff guy with enough strength to give me the world. He looked so hot sitting in that pool and I wanted to join him so bad… put on a cute bikini and seduce him, until that was on his mind would be me.

There was only the problem that he was my brother best friend and a really good one too, he would never touch his best friends sister… probably even if I were naked in front of him and begging him for sex.

/—

Hello there, today I am looking to play out the relationship between a sister and her brothers best friend. Mainly I wanna focus on the tension that builds up with my character teasing yours and making her desires increasingly apparent obvious, while your character should be into the idea but also try to resist banging his best friends sister. Not as taboo as the usual incest, but they will have known each other for so long that they treat each other like extended family.

Do you snap or will her desires stay unsatisfied?

Obviously I already mentioned that she is a masochist and definitely wants to get roughly pounded by him, amongst a lot of other kinky things as well. Though the important part this time is the tension! How do I tease you and what do you do to resist? She obviously touches herself to him, but does he too?

Actual sex and kinky interactions should feel earned in this RP, like there was actual work and waiting for it to finally happen. If that sounds interesting, wonderful! Just don’t expect to jump into sex quick, not this time.

/—

Message me with your name (Whatever name you go with on here) and age. If you have any ideas or changes from the prompt, please add them as well. Saying it probably won’t make a difference, but a simple „Hey“ wont do it or simply copy pasting your kinklist and calling it a day.

Open to messages from any gender. If you already messaged me at another point and we fell out of touch, you are kindly invited to message me again as well.

More information on me, like my full kinks and limits can be found on my DPP profile linked at the bottom of this post. So if you wanna learn even more about me take a look at that.

Some important Kinks for this…
Teasing, Obsession, Forbidden romance, Tension, Masochism/Sadism, Emotional conflict

And Limits…
Snuff, Gore, Pregnancy, Furry, Anything Illegal

Lots of Love, Lilly <3

https://www.reddit.com/r/DPPprofiles/s/lNzCF04fGr

A long time ago, you and the man who is now my husband were the closest of friends. You grew up down the street from each other, and your parents were friends, so it's only natural that the two of you were close. He's adventurous and caring and kind, while you're smart as a whip and as anxiety ridden as a horse who's about to get hit by one. Since you were kids, he's been your constant. The one person in your life that you knew was always going to be there. And that made you feel a lot calmer about everything. Of course, it only makes sense that you two would try dating. You lost your virginities to each other in college and had so much fun with it that you kept banging until you both thought your naughty bits would fall off! But as for romance... it just didn't work. Having known each other for so long, it was hard to imagine your friendship changing into something else. Sex was one thing. Sex was just making each other feel good. You two loved having sex! Romance was... something different. Something neither of you wanted.

And, eventually, you wound up having to move. You got accepted into an amazing Master's program at a top tier university and had to leave, at least for a while. It's not too terribly far. Just a few states away. But it's far enough that your best friend can only visit a few times a year. It's devastatingly sad for both of you, but you're doing your best to make it work, and I'm cheering you on!

Sorry, I should introduce myself. I'm Natasha, and I'm your best friend's wife. The two of us started dating around a year before you left, and it's been fantastic so far. We're thoroughly in love with big plans for the future, and here's the most important part: I'm not jealous. Him having a close female friend doesn't bother me. In fact, him having a close female friend *that he fucks* doesn't bother me. I want him to be happy. I want you to be happy. And as long as I'm the one he comes home to at the end of the day, I'm going to be happy. It took a while to convince you that I was actually okay with you two getting it on, but after a long sit-down talk where you tearfully explained how much you (platonically) love your best friend and how awful it felt to feel like you'd never have his hands on you again, I gave you a smile and a hug and made sure you knew that your sex life was hardly going to change at all.

Now, he and I have been married for a few years. You two fuck like rabbits whenever you comes to visit, and sometimes you give him a little video call to enjoy. But now, you're coming down to visit for his birthday, and I thought that you and I could give him an extra special present. No, not a threesome. That's a bit too kinky for me, and there's a lot that can go wrong with something like that. I was thinking... you and I find a way to get some time alone, set up a video camera, and... show him how well his two favorite women can play together. Sure, I'm straight, and you're straight, so that complicates things. But you can't tell me that it wouldn't be the best birthday present he ever gets. So... what do you say?

The orb pulsed thrice beneath Aelira's palm, humming low and warm as it worked.

She'd walked away from everything to get here. Silk and silver, expectations and obligations, titles spoken with reverence. Princess Aelira Duskbourne didn't exist in this town. She didn't exist anywhere. Renouncing her claim had seen to that, every bridge back to that life burned the moment she signed the papers. With no home to return to, she was just another hopeful here, stood before the Guild's assessment orb, waiting to see what she was worth.

The Guildmaster hadn't asked where she was from. Didn't need to. Bloodline meant nothing here. Only the orb's verdict did.

Every conceivable stat, scanned and weighed against every conceivable path. Strength. Mana reserves. Aptitude for the divine. The orb found all of it, and from all of it, decided. It was never wrong.

Years of sword forms. Books on magical theory. Every ounce of discipline she could scrape together, aimed at this single moment. She'd pictured herself a Warrior. A Sorceress, if the gods were generous. Something with weight behind the name.

The orb flashed bright, then settled.

"Class assigned: Vessel of Communion."

The name meant nothing to her. That unsettled her, but not as much as what came next. The Guildmaster's face did something complicated, somewhere between surprise and pity, and he didn't explain right away. Instead he waved over a thin, older woman in Guild robes, who took one look at the orb's readout and went very quiet.

"It's rare," the woman said carefully. "Communion mana doesn't regenerate the way normal reserves do. It's not drawn from meditation, or rest, or study." She hesitated. "It's drawn from touch. Arousal, specifically. The more intense, the more it replenishes."

Aelira didn't move. Didn't breathe. The words sat in her skull, repeating themselves louder each time like they was trying to make sure she'd heard them right.

"There's a binding," the woman continued, quieter now. "Comes standard with the class, soon as the orb assigns it. Your reserves will drain regardless of whether you use your magic or not. If they hit empty, you don't just lose your abilities. You lose consciousness. Sometimes worse." A pause. "You can't refuse the class. And you can't survive long ignoring what it needs from you."

Aelira's fingers clenched around the edge of the pedestal, nails digging into the polished wood. Princess, a voice inside her screamed. You were born to lead armies! This was her grand destiny?

She'd walked away from a crown to become somebody powerful. Somebody impressive. Instead, she'd escaped her gilded cage only to be trapped by her own body.

"Don't look so worried," the Guildmaster said, some of his earlier smirk creeping back now that the shock had worn off the room. "Plenty of parties would kill for a Vessel. You'll have your pick, once word gets around." She didn't feel flattered. She felt like livestock being appraised twice in one day.

The orb's glow dimmed beneath her hand.

Aelira had wanted to be a hero.

Fate apparently had other plans.

I'd love to play out the rest of Aelira's story with you! We can figure exactly what her new class means for her. Flesh out her party and her role within it. Take her on a series of quests as she sinks deeper into her role suffers humiliation after humiliation.

I've played D&D both as as player and DM for around 7 years now, so I'd love to work together to flesh out this world and it's characters.

I know I'm asking a lot of you here, but I'd be happy to share the load (heh), of pushing the world and "NPCs" forward, with you maybe taking on a main character in the party for yourself?

Would really love this to be a long term thing, so if you're just interested in a one off, sorry but that's not really what I'm looking for!

Some Kinks (Not all need to be included, I also have a full kinklist):

messy sex, sloppy blowjobs, deepthroat, throatfucking, outfit control, high heels, nails, bimbofication, public sex, light bondage, cheating/cuckolding, dp, gangbangs, cum and spit play, CNC, cock worship, incest, huge cocks, age gap, size difference, interracial, degradation, hair-pulling, spanking, slapping, anal, rimming

Limits: scat, gore, hyper sizes, musk, sounding

I actively check my "additional requests", so don't be scared to get nasty in your first message!

My younger brother Ben was always getting bullied by the same guysat university, and one day, much to my brothers annoyance I decide to confront him.
My Demands turn into pleads, my pleading turns into negotiations, negotiations end with me doing whatever you all want.
Maybe you secretly film me, all 3 of you using the video to blackmail me, having me bounce around all 3 of you on a constant rotation so you don’t spread the video. Maybe it’s all 3 of you at once.
Who knows, maybe you make more and more videos each time I come over, letting you all use me in private so the public don’t see how you used me in private.
Maybe you come over to mine and my brothers rented apartment, using the excuse of me being your tutor, but in reality your here to remind me of my place, while I’m desperately being quiet so my brother dosent realise I’m filled with his tormentors cock.
Maybe it ends with you all revealing to Ben why you’ve all been so nice to him recently, letting him see how good of a big sister he has.

Try to impress me with your first message, low effort will be ignored.

Kinks : light bdsm, CnC, Degradation

Limits : scat, toilet play, excessive violence

Hey there!

I’ve been roleplaying for upwards of 10 years now and I’m looking for a partner. I generally love doing dramatic, smut filled roles, I really enjoy having a partner who is open to ideas and can contribute his own ideas as well! I love having a partner who can brainstorm with me! I generally can write a good 2-4 paragraphs depending on where we are in the role.

I usually stick to original characters but depending on the fandom can branch out. I enjoy supernatural/fantasy, time period pieces, forbidden romance, or occasional slice of life. I also only roleplay in the 3rd person and can handle multiple characters as needed for background characters. I also use face claims exclusively! (AI for the most part).

“He was the one man she couldn’t afford to love. Unfortunately, he’d already been her husband.”

They survived bullets, blood, and betrayal. Their marriage was the one thing they couldn’t save.

Three years ago, Isabella Hayes walked away from her husband, her marriage, and the life they’d built together. Once an inseparable pair of intelligence operatives, they’d survived assignments that should have killed them both. But when personal tragedy fractured their marriage, neither knew how to put the pieces back together. She buried herself in work. He tried to hold on. And when she accepted a dangerous, long-term undercover assignment in Colombia, their divorce became the final casualty.

Now thirty-two, Isabella is living under the alias Valentina Reyes, serving as the trusted head of security for one of Colombia’s most powerful and ruthless cartel bosses. She’s spent three years earning his confidence, building a case against his empire, and becoming someone even her former colleagues might struggle to recognize.

Cold. Calculating. Dangerous. Until a new American contractor arrives at the compound.

Her ex-husband.

He’s been sent to infiltrate the very organization she’s spent years embedding herself within. Neither was warned about the other’s involvement, and neither can afford to acknowledge their past.

Because the man who once knew every inch of her body, every secret she whispered in the dark, and every crack in her armor is now the greatest threat to her carefully constructed identity.

And the cartel boss? He’s far too intelligent not to notice the tension between his most trusted lieutenant and his newest recruit.

One wrong look could expose them. One stolen kiss could destroy them. And one more chance at love might cost them everything.

⸻

The Characters

My Character — Isabella “Izzy” Hayes | 32

A petite, athletic blonde with subtle dark lowlights beneath her golden hair, striking green eyes, freckles, and a sharp tongue. Formerly a brilliant CIA deep-cover operative, she’s spent three years reinventing herself as a ruthless security professional. She’s sarcastic, fiercely independent, stubborn, and exceptionally skilled at hiding what she feels.

Beneath the hardened exterior is a woman who never truly recovered from losing her child, her marriage, or the man she once thought she’d grow old beside.

Your Character — The Ex-Husband | 33–36

A former U.S. Army Ranger turned CIA paramilitary operative. Tall (around 6’2”), powerfully built, broad-shouldered, and ruggedly handsome, with tousled dark-blond or brown hair, striking eyes, stubble, and a few tattoos earned over the years.

Disciplined, dangerous, intelligent, and fiercely loyal. A man equally comfortable in a firefight or trading sarcastic remarks across a kitchen counter.

He once loved Isabella more than anything. Whether he’s forgiven her, moved on, or still carries their wedding ring is entirely up to you.

His name, personality nuances, military history, and what he’s been doing during their separation are yours to develop!

What I’m Looking For

I’m seeking a creative, collaborative partner who enjoys detailed, third-person, past-tense writing, strong character development, and a healthy balance of action, romance, angst, and tension.

I love flawed characters, witty banter, complicated relationships, dangerous situations, jealousy, and chemistry that refuses to die even when the characters desperately wish it would.

This is an adult, mature romance with espionage, cartel politics, violence, emotional baggage, forced proximity, and plenty of opportunities for passion. I want the relationship to develop organically alongside an actual plot, with both characters contributing to the story.

Bring me your dangerous, emotionally constipated ex-husband who can stare down an armed cartel enforcer without blinking but completely loses his composure when his former wife calls him by an old nickname.

After all, the divorce papers said they were finished. Their hearts apparently never got the memo.

Experienced writers only please! Also I always vet my partners before exchanging discords! Thanks!

Sabrina hitchhikes to the country club where she's meeting her boyfriend Barry and his wealthy family for the first time. She's wearing a slutty tied white t-shirt that constantly shows off her saucer-sized areolas and offers nip slips with every little movement, and barely-there denim shorts. Her feet are completely bare, showing off her perfectly painted white nails against tanned skin. She knew her boyfriend's parents were uber rich, which is why she didn't bat an eye when the father picked her up in his 2000 Pontiac Bonneville (she'll later find out he still drives it because it brings him good luck).

Both Sabrina and the father can't reveal what happened during the drive—at least a blowjob or tit fuck—since they both cheated on their spouses. When she sees him at the bustling country club by the golf course and beach, Sabrina says "Holy shit" as they recognize each other simultaneously. The country club is hosting a casual all-day beach event, but the atmosphere is charged with unspoken tension as Sabrina and the father struggle to maintain a facade of normalcy while dealing with internal panic about getting caught and the awkwardness of their situation. Both find it difficult to get a moment alone with each other or even with themselves. Barry, who's completely clueless about Sabrina's wilder side and doesn't even bat an eye at her extreme proportions, introduces her to his "perfect model family," including his reserved and formal mother Susan.

The father is wearing the exact same clothes he had on when he picked up Sabrina hitchhiking, just as she's still in the same outfit. Sabrina's internal monologue is sexy and sassy, reflecting her confident personality despite the predicament: "Well, this is just perfect. Met the parents and already had intimate relations with one of them. Guess that's one way to make a good first impression. Note to self: always ask for a family photo before giving road head." The tension builds during the first two hours as they navigate the lavish and expansive country club with its multiple pools, private cabanas, and beach tents. When Sabrina gets nervous, her tits get sweaty, making the thin white fabric completely transparent and her pencil eraser nipples even more prominent. The situation reaches a breaking point when the father accidentally blurts out that Sabrina has "Ball draining tits" in front of his wife and son, then tries to cover it up by claiming he said something else entirely.

Later, when they head to the beach, Sabrina faces a dilemma as her tied shirt and shorts aren't appropriate beach attire. Through a chain of events, she ends up completely naked, rationalized as the only option available to her. Both Sabrina and the father are definitely going to pass on using the family sauna when it's suggested as a family activity. From here we see two options: We start at the country club and navigate this sticky situation with all its tension, near-misses, and the father's eventual slip-up.

Kinks: non-con, dub-con, Boob focus (movement, pencil eraser nipples), Cheating, betrayal, massive cocks, sneaky, almost caught, dirty talk, corruption, groping, lying, body worship, comparisons, scantily clad, barefoot (just me), fun realistic dialogues, weed and aphrodisiac pills, COMPLIMENTS...

Specific Specific Kinks, not every scene has to follow this, but if you see fit by all means. I enjoy being barefoot, I am not really into feetplay like that but I just find it sexy to be barefoot idk just a small detail I always like to have, very primal, very sexy (not many would agree), or maybe I like showing off my white nails too much.

Wearing next to nothing but still can appeal decent at a first or second glance, wearing a very small satin robe, her breasts just spilling out even showing off some of her nipples, and if you looked down you can typically see the robe parted and see my bare vagina or ass. Like to be that exposed and everyone just like ignoring the fact that I am indecent is something I am into. When I walk the loose belt unravels revealing my nude upper half.

Limits: scat, vore, gore, one liners

Your sister's career as a successful idol never really made a difference to you. The money was cool, sure. The house she bought for the family was really nice, and your parents always seemed content, if not always happy. It was pretty common to see her face in coffee shop windows and on billboards, dancing and singing on TV promoting one skin care product or another. It was a regular occurrence for people to ask you about her ("What's she like at home? Is she as pretty in real life as she is on TV? Does she really hate cucumbers that much?), but you never really had an answer for those questions. They were things you asked about a celebrity, not about a member of your family. You never really saw her as someone influential or famous, she was just... Your sister.

bonus points if you're willing to use Korean honorifics!

[If your character is masculine, he'll call my character Nuna if she's older (think onee-san), and she'll call him Oppa if he's older (think onii-san). If your character is feminine, the older one will call the younger one Unnie.]

---

Hello!

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

✦ 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.

✦ 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!

✦ Please, please, please be respectful.

Now, to talk story--

The basis of this idea is that your sister is a famous idol-- Your character's feelings about this are up to you! Are they ambivalent to her fame, unable to see her as anything but their sister? Are they obsessed with her, getting jealous of fans who spending exorbitant amounts of money on her? This is a very loose idea with a lot of potential for fun brainstorming, so feel free to bring ideas with you!

I've got a few more ideas regarding potential scenarios we could explore, but feel free to come brainstorm with me!

The Government is Pushing Everyone to Procreate and I'm Not Letting ANYONE Else Have My (Sibling)

This is an adaptation of my 'Idols Do Porn' idea, with a fun incest twist! The filming/porn elements are optional, the important part is the soft yandere/jealous sister aspect!

There are tons of reasons for the decline of South Korea's birth rate.

Economic downturn, political unrest, social divide, competitive education, there are a lot of reasons not to get nasty in the peninsula, or, if you do, there are a lot of reasons to keep it wrapped up-- The most prevalent of which always ends up being the hyper-capitalist, conservative culture. See, if success was screamed from the rooftops in South Korea, *sex* is hardly even *whispered,* which is funny, when you consider that the country's largest cultural export is vapid, sensual pop music, sang, danced, and promoted by the most beautiful women imaginable.

These idols can sell anything-- A single photo of a fairy-faced cutie holding a tube of lip balm can lead to worldwide shortages in a matter of days, an interview with a direct recommendation shutting down eCommerce in a few short hours. A vlog where these girls go on a "vacation" full of local restaurants and "challenges" can hold up international travel for weeks. This advertising machine is capable of bringing entire countries to their knees for the benefit of the South Korean economy , but they never seem to be able to make the connection that they need to.

The Korean music industry clearly knows that sex *sells,* they just decide to only participate in said sale when it happens overseas, keeping their precious Confucian purity untouched, unsullied, and most importantly, *un-pregnant.*

The irony in the idol industry is as deep as the "pure, innocent, eternal virgin" girls' skirts are skimpy, leg, thighs and hips on every billboard, but *God forbid* a woman show a little chest or collarbone, then she's a *harlot who brings shame on her family, and will never be good for marriage...*

You get the picture.

Something has to change, and while economics and politics are always up in the air, there's one thing that always rings true, no matter what language it's written in:

*Sex fucking sells,* and it's time for the K-pop industry to cash in on its investment in cultural influence, to film a new kind of "challenge", one that's definitely too steamy for TikTok's Terms of Service.

Maybe some rumors have spread around the idol industry that Yebin has a good-looking sibling who's single, and she just can't stand the idea of someone else whisking them away? Maybe the siblings get matched up by the breeding program, and have no choice but to continue the human race in the weirdest way possible? Come brainstorm!

Idols can't have boyfriends, but nobody said anything about...

It's a classic case of East Asian conservatism-- Sparky, pretty girls, dolled up and dancing, flirting with everyone in the entire world, eternally frozen in time as a forever-virgin for the fans to pour their parasocial love into-- At least, as long as they're still in the public eye. Even the most famous of idols, even the most booked, even the most busy, have to go on vacation sometimes, and for Yebin, that always meant going back home to her family, where she was always loved, in more ways than one.

This could involve a dominant, submissive, or loving sibling, older or younger-- The exact nature of their relationship is totally up for discussion!

Kinks:

✦ Free use: The robot is yours (and your pet's), use her however you like!

✦ Breeding/breeding talk/pregnancy: We're gonna continue that bloodline, even if it doesn't make sense.

✦ Cumplay: Whether it's going on me, in me, around me, in a cup, or on my dinner, I'm into it.

✦ Oral fixation: Finger sucking, licking, biting, body worship, face worship, blowjobs, cunnilingus, facefucking, cock slapping, wet, sloppy, passionate, messy, I love all of it.

✦ girl!penis/futa: I love chicks with dicks!

✦ Femboys: I love the girlier guys, especially when they're cute and hung!

✦ Passionate physicality: I love grabbing, groping, carrying, pushing, choking, hair pulling, slapping, spanking, being tossed around...

✦ Intoxication: Get me fucked up, and then get me fucked, up, down, sideways, left and right.

✦ 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!

✦ Dub/Non-con

...and much more! If there's something you're into but don't see it here, please ask!

Limits:

✦ Bondage: Super turnoff for me in sexual contexts. For plot reasons, it's okay, but sexy-time restraints are a hard no.

✦ Bathroom stuff/general unhygienic things: sweat/natural musk is lovely, smegma etc is not for me.

✦ Cruel violence

This is a discussion about the scenario

Imagine a nerd named Michael who hasn't much luck with the ladies. He gets rejected most of the time he approaches them, which just makes him more sexually frustrated

But one day, he gets very lucky. He spots this hot asian lady in tiny shorts named Penny reading by herself at a table outside a coffee shop. Its a pretty busy city where there's many people around and socializing. But she's there all by herself, stuck in her own little bubble, face buried inside her book. Her shorts are so short, you can see all of her sexy thighs!

Her thighs and the fact that she's all by herself reading when everyone around her is socializing, really turns him on. He approaches her and tries to ask her a dumb questions like "where is the nearest train station?". She gets startled, jumps up and scared by the sudden approach. She then is like "What?! Is there something you want??"

She was very guarded, aggressive and feisty by being approached. He repeats the question and she awkwardly answers it....in a really annoyed way. He then plays dumb and asks some follow up questions just to chat her up, and her tone starts to get aggressive. She raised her voice saying "Ok I really don't know what station that is". You can tell that she's visibly getting mad

But then he laughs and reveals that his true intentions are to talk to her cuz he thinks she's attractive. She suddenly smiles and lets her guard down.

He teases her about being in her own bubble and being scared. They laugh and have a nice chat. As they talk, she crosses her legs, moves around in her seat and her shorts get even shorter! He even blatantly looks over and stares at her thighs as they flirt and chat. She doesn't even call him out for it!

Her being scared at first, feisty, aggressive, angry and then becoming warm turned him on so much. Also her thighs and how she's such a bookworm, studying out in the open like that. At the end, he even gets her phone number ;) He felt like such a winner. He went home and busted the fattest nut ever, replaying the scenario in his head

Did the dynamics of the situation turn u on? The tension and intensity especially in the beginning

Send me a reddit chat with your asl and lets talk about it in detail!

I've been staying at the hotel for a few days while attending a work conference, and after spending the evening making small talk with colleagues over dinner and drinks, I'm more than ready for some time to myself.

But not keen to just sit in and watch mindless TV, I decide to check out some of the amenities, when pictures of the pool catch my eye. I'd bought a bathing suit for this exact purpose, a simple royal blue two piece with ties on my hips and behind my neck.

I change into my swimsuit and head down to the indoor pool, hoping a late-night swim will help me unwind before bed.

The pool area is almost deserted, softly lit and quiet except for the gentle hum of the ventilation system and the occasional ripple of water. I leave my towel on a lounger, slip into the pool, and spend the next twenty minutes swimming leisurely from one end to the other, enjoying the privacy and the feeling of having nowhere else I need to be.

I'm just finishing my last lap when I hear footsteps approaching the pool deck.

Another hotel guest appears in the doorway, carrying a towel and looking about as tired as I feel. We exchange a brief smile, and they explain that sleep hasn't been coming easily either, so they thought a swim might help.

- - - - -

Me: 29, 5'4, 130ish with brown hair and green eyes. Smaller shoulders, chest, etc...bigger hips, butt and thighs. Adventurous, exploring my sexuality and love connecting with new people. I'm an attentive, giving roleplayer and am very interested in my partner's pleasure and satisfaction.

You: Male or female, creative, responsive and eager to play through this scenario and, if the connection is good, others as well.

I really like weird transformation scenarios, and one I've been thinking about a lot lately is the idea of being in an extra-intimate scenario with my partner. And what could be more intimate than being actually physically attached to you?

The most common version of this is cock-TF, where my body changes (usually completely) to become your cock, while my mind sticks around inside, with some means of communicating with you. Someone who responded the last time I made this post liked the idea of me being just his balls, without any of the pleasure or strength of even being a cock. If you're female, I could become a pussy, my mouth opening to become a new path into your body, my nose reduced to a clit. Or I could be a breast, destined to plump up at the right moment of your cycle, and ultimately to make "our" milk once you're ready to have kids. (Usually not an ass - sorry, folks who're into butt stuff, just not for me.)

Usually I'm imagining my mind staying largely intact, and having some degree of mental link to you, though that isn't a necessity. It just seems like the natural next step to the intimacy of being a literal extension of you.

I like hearing weird body-horror-sometimes-minus-the-horror ideas you have even if they're not ones I list, but in the interest of giving some real suggestions:

• It could just be me experimenting because I like the idea. But if something goes wrong, I might get stuck like that longer than either of us expected - and it might be quite the adjustment period! In this situation, I'd be imagining a fairly interaction-heavy relationship, with a lot of focus on how strange it would be to be so intimately connected to another person. How do you get used to your most intimate moments always being shared? How do I get used to the indignities of being a part of you, and the fact that I no longer really have a life independent of you? Is it almost romantic, with a kind of intimacy and gentleness between us?

• I've got a heart condition that can't be treated, not even by a mechanical transplant. But if I were physically attached to someone else, they could do the pumping for the both of us. Unfortunately, that doesn't work for a full-sized person, and you're not going to lug me around, so it necessitates other...changes. This also looks like it'd be pretty adjustment-heavy, but with a little bit less of the "oh, shit" angle and a little bit more of the "look, I know this isn't what you wanted, but I promise I'll do my best to treat you well once you've changed" one. Also leaves room for a lot of in-scene discussion before the transformation happens, about what expectations are and what we can do afterwards.

• An experiment or accident in a gene research lab. (Yes, cliche as hell, but oh well.) Gene editing isn't just hard because it's tough to copy over the DNA, it's hard because cells mark their DNA as belonging to specific organs or functions. And if that DNA were to ever escape by accident...well, it would mark a living person's DNA as all being part of some organ. Here the change could be slower and more progressive, with a lot of scientific and clinical examination of whether it remains possible for me to live as a independent being, the eventual conclusion that I cannot, and a very scientific reason that it's neither reversible nor preventable.

Overall, this prompt is about the weirdness, the transformation, the bizarro-intimacy, the helplessness of the form, the adjustment to it, etc. It is not about corruption or about my control of your body, even in part. You should enjoy the idea of having me trapped in there, or the shared experience of exploring what it's like to have me as part of you, or the adjustment period of me having to figure out how to be less than a person, or the actual transformative process itself.

Please do not message if:

• You are mostly looking for "and then you make me really horny and drive me to have lots of sex"-style scenarios. The changes and adjustment are what I find sexy, and I am not interested in taking on a dominant role in any way.
• You want me to domme you. Seriously, not any way.
• You want me to feminize you, including "why don't you become my pussy to turn me female".
• You're going to have a bunch of misspellings or obvious grammar mistakes right out the gate. This is a written medium! Writing quality matters!
• You can't say anything about what you enjoy about this and why. I want us to both have a good time, and I can't do that unless I understand what you enjoy.
• You have a blank profile and your name is Word-Otherword1234.

My girlfriend is everything I could hope for. She’s beautiful, smart, funny, and a perfect match for me. When we first started dating she wanted to take it slow, waiting months before we finally had sex. I was nervous, of course, and it didn’t last long… but she kept reassuring me that it was about the emotional connection. At one point she even told me “size doesn’t matter to me,” which brought me huge relief. She always makes me use protection and play it safe, making sure I never cum inside her.

But sometimes I wonder if there’s another side of her I haven’t seen… and as it turns out, my girlfriend had a “thing” with your man.

As you know, your man used to get around quite a bit, and his experience shows in bed. It’s by far the best and hottest sex you’ve ever had. Not only does he know exactly what to do and say, he’s incredibly attractive, confident, and hung. The kind of guy girls used to throw themselves at just for the chance to spend a night on their knees for him. He got off on being the best they’d ever had (or ever would), and he loved the idea of “ruining” them for other men. More than once he’d start with a girl who insisted on playing it safe… only for her to be begging him hours later to fill her up and breed her. For most it was thanks to modern science and birth control were they spared, for others he pulled out at the last possible second despite their pleas.

And unfortunately for me, my girlfriend was one of his conquests. He was drawn to her immediately with the long black hair, the mixed-race features (White/Asian), the pretty face, and that body with big breasts and a thin waist. Just like the others, within days (or even a single night) of meeting him she was on her back, legs spread with her panties soaked, about to find out if size really didn’t matter. But your man didn’t want to make love to her. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted her to remember that night for the rest of her life, to pull sounds out of her that she didn’t know she could make and that I’ll never hear. He wanted to make her feel like a complete slut for him. To create dirty little secrets she can never fully share with anyone else.

She’ll never be able to open up completely to future partners. When her future boyfriend asks if she’s had bigger, she’ll sidestep the question. When they ask if she’s ever come from just PIV, she’ll keep it vague or outright lie. And when the inevitable “does size matter?” discussion comes up, she’ll blush, smile, and say “of course not”… while flashing back to being face down in the mattress, screaming “oh my god I’m cumming, please don't stop...” as she had the best orgasm of her life all over your man's big cock. Knowing there’s another man who made her moan and scream in ways she never will again, who filled her up more then I ever could will bring her a sense of guilt and shame... but also over whelming arousal every time she thinks about him. Deep down knowing while I have her heart, your man owns her pussy.

Looking to chat if you found any part of this hot or interesting. Can be based on experiences you had, fantasies you have, or anything else related (pretty open to different kinks/fantasies or just chatting about it).

There was no telling what one might discover within the Wyrdwood. When the sun rose over the land for the very first time, the ancient forest had already been there waiting for its warmth.

Sprawling across the valley, sturdy trees the likes of hardwoods and impossibly-large willows made up a near-impenetrable canopy of leaves, and beneath their gnarled sprawling roots, all manner of shrubbery and plant life grew uncontested to the point of overgrowth. There was no knowing what form of beast, monstrosity and otherwise might have made its home within the untouched depths of the Wyrdwood; and it was because of these inherent dangers that very few save for those foolish and brave, and foolishly brave, ventured off the beaten path.

Life was not so inhospitable around the woods thankfully. The land was lush and bountiful.

Those with entrepreneurial desires made good coin from the lumber harvested from the trees, the medicinal plants that grew throughout the wood, and the animals hunted for their pelts and horns and meat. In time, the population grew—healthily at that, and those that chose to make their homes at the edge of the Wyrdwood erected walls around their villages and towns to keep their families safe. Over time these little settlements grew and grew, living off the land and the Wyrdwood’s bounty.

Despite so many flocking to these new towns and villages, Gwenna was happy to keep away from all the noise and hubbub.

She had come to the area as a much younger woman, all her worldly possessions fitting into a single cart that she had hitched onto a lone horse. Gwenna had spent a great portion of her life wandering, as her parents had been nomads following the beckoning of the breeze, but upon coming of age, she had decided she wanted something different for herself. Someplace where she could put down her roots.

So she went wandering as her parents had before her, searching for the perfect place to call home—and by the grace of the gods, she found it in the Wyrdwood. A small clearing that had a pool nearby that was fed by the babbling brook. Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the leaves overhead. It was well suited for Gwenna’s needs, of which there were not many.

As the towns and villages grew, so did her little homestead. First the cottage, then two outer buildings, one for her chickens and the other for the hanging and drying of meats and furs. And since then, almost a half dozen other buildings had been erected, all with their own various purposes to make good use of the forest’s bounties.

Hers was a solitary existence, a woman of twenty-five now, but Gwenna never felt truly alone. As she went about her chores and caring for her flock, she nursed an awareness that there was always someone—or something—nearby. Watching her. Keeping her company.

Gwenna was familiar with magic to some degree. Her parents had fancied themselves practitioners of a force far older than themselves. They lived cheek by jowl with nature, protecting it and enjoying its bounty, and they had passed their learnings onto their daughter in turn. It was simple magic: to keep from getting lost in the woods, to be able to read the weather as to when to perfectly dry laundry. As such, though she was no great practitioner, Gwenna could tell when something seemed more than what met the eye.

The clearing that she now called home had suited her needs perfectly, as if it was meant for her. When she needed wood, it would conveniently be found near her borders. If she needed food, deer and rabbits were funneled through where she set her traps. The wolves and other beasts never bothered her chickens or goats or her for that matter, no matter how far out she wandered. Gwenna found clusters of mushrooms whenever she searched for them, and saw fields of wildflowers spring up by her doorstep practically overnight.

Whatever it was that had seen fit to shower Gwenna with nature’s gifts had witnessed her care for the woods, and had intentions on returning her affection.

As the sun set, bringing about another cold evening on the brink of winter, Gwenna fixed herself a quick supper and reclined in her rocking chair by the fire to finish her mending. Outside her window the forest was swallowed up by the night, only a few slivers of moonlight illuminating the void otherwise.

A knock came at her door, disturbing the silence and Gwenna stopped her mending, and turned her head towards the sound.

It was already quite late, but she was no stranger to visitors in the dead of night. Most times it would be a neighbor from any one of the towns or farms nearby in need of medicine for a loved one. Other times it would be a lost traveler or a woodsman or a logger, unfamiliar with the area and an easy victim for the Wyrdwood’s twisting paths. Gwenna had cultivated a cloistered reputation for herself living alone in the woods, but she was never one to turn down those in need when they came knocking at her door.

But tonight—she could tell her visitor was not anyone that needed her help. The knocking was what gave it away, leisurely it was, as if a suitor coming to call. And Gwenna recognized this presence, had felt its gaze on her back more times than she could count.

There came another knock. Unhurried once more.

“Oh, just a moment!”

Setting aside her old skirt and sewing needle, Gwenna rose to her feet and wrapped a woolen shawl over her shoulders. She was ill-dressed for company, wearing only a simple linen shift that was so well-worn it was beginning to thin. Beneath the fabric the womanly curves of her body pushed up against the fabric with full, heavy breasts and wide hips, her skin the color of oak. Her hair fell down to her hips in thick tumble of waves, as dark as the soft earth underfoot. Gwenna’s eyes darted to the gap between the door and floor, wondering what she might be able to glean from the shadows there. She slipped her feet back into her old, soft-as-butter leather boots and strode to the front door.

As she grabbed the latch, Gwenna felt her heartbeat quicken.

A small part of her hoped that perhaps—perhaps—she might finally meet the mysterious presence that kept her company over the years as she established her homestead. Whoever they were, Gwenna had longed to meet them.

She undid the latch, opened the door, and peered outside.

“Hello? It’s awfully late, what is it that you need?” She questioned, her soft voice echoing out into the night.

If a young woman living out in the middle of the woods invites a mysterious stranger into her home for the night, that’s her own business.

Limits: Anal, Gore, Snuff, Piss, Scat, Violence, Blood, Humiliation and Degradation

She was never exactly ordinary, even in her youth. An introvert, a loner who never seemed to get along with the people around her.. but she was a star student, some called her a prodigy! She always had her face buried in one book or another, so motivated by her passion for her field and love of work that she'd forget to take breaks, forget to eat, lose sleep.. it wasn't healthy, but it had obviously paid off. She graduated early and went to an Ivy League, where she still excelled! Before long she had her doctorate, a sought after candidate with a hundred different invitations to continue her studies, to become a professor, work at this company or that startup..

It went fine for a time, until he came along. Her first love, it had come seemingly out of nowhere! She had spent her life so dedicated to her studies and career that she'd never allowed herself to date, or even really develop friendships beyond tolerating work colleagues.

Suddenly, work seemed unimportant. Nothing seemed important, except him! But her obsessive all or nothing mentality wasn't gone, far from it! Whatever had motivated her before was still there, only now he was the object of her obsession, the only thing she lived for.

()

TL;DR - Workaholic woman is madly in love, possibly insane, and probably willing to commit a felony or two.

Anyway, hi everyone! I'm 23 years old and female, and I've been absolutely CRAVING a romance story lately! And uh.. I figured, why not a dark romance? I've always enjoyed playing clingy characters in a more positive way, so I figured it might be fun to just take that to the extreme! Ideally this plot won't be TOO dark though, I'd like it to actually still be a sweet romance! Just, you know, it could be toxic at times considering how she is..

I intentionally left the setup quite open, I love the collaborative process of making a unique story together! So character details, how they'll meet, all of that will have to be discussed! I'd love to give this a very "golden retriever x black cat" vibe though, with the male character being very sweet and.. not insane. I'd be happy to share more preferences, as well as hear your own preferences regarding my character.

As far as writing style goes, I expect at least a few paragraphs per post, in third person. I'm not a stickler for length, but I put thought and effort into my writing and you'll need to do the same. I only roleplay on discord, also.

My character could be played as a cis or trans woman if it matters, and I'm even willing to flip roles and play the male character in this story if desired!

This plot will always be open, so if you see it posted then feel free to reach out with an introduction!

()

As far as kinks go.. obviously obsession and romance! I also enjoy things like some manhandling, praise, teasing, body worship, breeding talk, and more! I prefer a very intense, but somewhat vanilla kind of smut.

Limits include submissive or effeminate male characters, femdom, abuse, heavy BDSM, and gross things.

I travel a lot for work and pass through cities, airports, new environments. I like to wander around them and explore the emptier parts. Vienna Airport was no exception.

I had walked into one of the long wings that extends out with many gates. Quickly I left the noise and people behind and found myself alone with just the odd maintenance man. I arrived at a corner and found a beautiful passageway shaped like a sail with golden light filtering through small windows. I walked along marvelling at the architecture when I saw something at the end of the corridor. An escalator took me down to a huge window and in front of it a figure was hanging from the ceiling with ropes and pullies installed in an elaborate contraption. With a shock I realised there was a girl in the centre, suspended by the ropes a couple of metres off the ground. You were completely naked, tied up and gagged. Taut ropes bound your wrists and ankles cutting into your skin and holding you in place. I walked closer and gazed at your soft, exposed skin. Your nipples were hard and you were covered in goosebumps from the cool air. I walked around behind you and watched your ass shivering slightly. More ropes were digging into the tops of your thighs, just under your ass, acting as a harness which attached to the larger body of ropes.

I circled around you slowly, admiring the way the light hit your body, the way the ropes cut into your skin. You watched me intently. A couple of times you tried to move or wriggle around but the restraints held you tightly and did not let you move an inch. Your eyes met mine, pleading but silent, begging for something I couldn’t quite decipher and you made low whining noises from behind the gag.

I walked around in front of you and for the first time wondered who had put you here and why. How long had you been here? Hours? Days? Weeks even? This was a quiet part of the airport, granted, but it was still a public place in a major airport, thousands of people passed by each day. You must have been seen by untold numbers of strangers, tied up and exposed, over the last few days.

Slightly to one side was a small table with a number of levers and a variety of sex toys. There was a handwritten note on the table which simply read ‘Play with me. Use me. Leave marks on me.’ The levers were unlabelled but were clearly connected to the ropes and pullies. I reached for the nearest and tugged it towards me. There was a whirring noise and the ropes around your ankles were pulled away from each other, forcing your legs further apart. The next lever moved you vertically up and down so I brought you down, almost to ground level with your legs splayed wide and your feet just off the ground.

I walked up to you and put my hand on your inner thigh. I ran my fingertips up and down. I felt a rush of adrenaline at the thought of being able to do anything to you. To use your body and inflict whatever I wanted on you. To be so intimately acquainted with a total stranger and have such power over them, only to disappear onto a plane and never see them again.

———————

Hey! Describe your character and share your kinks. Feel free to ask any questions. Then we can get started.

(Playing M is a MASSIVE kink of mine, so for this detailed, long term ERP I am looking to play M)

I was getting two different vibes from either side of the grand lecture hall. On one side, warmth, admiration, wonder. There were a lot of women in class, most of them looked down at me up towering rows upon rows of seats, smirking and smiling and gossiping to each other while their eyes lingered on me striding with such confidence into the room.

The other side was so far removed from such things. Helmed by only one singular person, she crossed her arms and let out a little grumble on the back of her throat, a scowl forming on filled out lips. She wore her long, thick hair loose down her back, in a tight button up white shirt with the sleeves pulled taught over her arms. With that, an equally tight pair of red slacks that fitted well over her long legs and alluring thighs. Along with golden bangles on each wrist, a gold necklace sitting on her collarbones, and the large round buckle on her belt, my professor really did look the part of a workplace vixen.

"Sit the fuck down and turn to page three hundred and ninty-four." She spat, with a venomous hiss.

Why was I so cocky around her? Well, for the same reason that she was wearing the exact same outfit as yesterday. We fucked till the early morning. Her lipstick staining my body, and my impressive appendage. She moaned like a whore, and made love like one too. She seemed so different with her clothes peeled off and her tits wrapped around my cock, with ropes of my cum sticking to her mature, sexy features. I knew she hated me for this forbidden affair between professor and student, and hated me even more for being so damn good at making her squirt all over my dorm room.

Behind those hateful eyes lied a deep hunger for more. The look of a woman who needed to further bloom her sexual rediscovery. For me? I just loved older women, and she really was a goddess amoung cougars.

*

Hey! I'm looking for a detailed, dirty minded, sexually expressive person to play this long term, detailed ERP with. I would prefer to have a discussion regarding the story, kinks and limits and such before we begin, as this starter post was more of a placeholder for the general idea. Please send me a message if you are interested, and long openers always catch my attention ;)

Looking forward to hearing from you!!

I have seen a few prompts and figured I would reach out as it got me wet thinking about it. I want to RP as a SJW who ends up degrading herself and becoming sex obsessed doll for a misogynist. I want to be broken down, transformed and manipulated away from focusing on equality, racial rights, etc. Instead focusing on being the prettiest and most humiliated cocksleeve out there. My new place should be in the kitchen, barefoot, pumped full of plastic, pregnant, and probably making you a sandwich, or another delicious meal. Always wet and ready for fucking me and reminding me of the endless joys of just submitting to a superior.

I'd love for you too play some rival of mine in college. Someone whose also going all in towards valedictorian of our class. Someone whose beliefs are directly opposite of mine. Someone who knows where I belong and that I just need a strong hand to guide me. Other options are absolutely available! Alternatively, as incest is a kink of mine, maybe your my brother, mother, or sister?

Or we could do a political twist and maybe I'm already in Politics, obviously seeking to join the clique the moment I join the Senate. But this race, against a fellow new, up - and - coming Senator is close. Real close. We're both getting desperate to do anything. Unfortunately, where as I may be looking for dirt, you are planning something far, far different.

Perhaps we can go a willing route. I'm a super stressed out SJW. The world is awful, and no matter how many protests, rallies, or speeches I go too, nothing is changing. My work load from college is only getting worse and worse. I'm fraying at the edges, and my tightly held control over my world is falling apart. I picture you (You can decide whom you are) notice that I'm going to burn out and self destruct, so there's only one route to stop it. It's a hard conversation, one I fight against, but you show me every way I have been absolutely miserable. Maybe it's time for me to stop trying to 'save the world' and just spinning my wheels, and instead focus on my wants and needs. One time, giving up control, and the release it gave me was world shattering. That release becomes almost as much of an addiction as the pleasure you force me to experience. soon, I will begin to pursue it more and more until everything I was is gone, and all I am is your giggling, busty fucktoy.

Or, perhaps a meta spin on the above idea. Maybe I've found myself getting off to posts on various misogynistic subreddits / websites (I clearly went down the wrong hole on Tumblr lol)... Somehow we started chatting and today is the first day you're going to get me to start REALLY exploring this growing kink of mine. I mean, it's just a kink, I can stop any time I want right?

I specifically want this to go in the route of bimbofication or hucow, preferably, but can just enjoy being a willing cocksleeve for you and your friends. Bonus points for incest, breeding, bdsm or any other ideas that are more unique to this prompt.

As always, my other prompts are always open as well.

[Currently I'm in mood to have fun with some girls that love being cumdumps just like me. So I'm looking for people that would like to play out dynamics between hot sluts as they get gangbanged and destroyed!]

God is Dead

I had a passing thought as a thick cock was forced into my ass, with only a bit of spit as lube. It hurt, but existence was pain anyway, and pain filled the void where my soul was supposed to be.

The campus pastor didn’t wait for me to get used to his cock and just forced himself balls deep, grabbing my hair to force it even deeper, what did it matter if it hurt me.

He promised to buy me a pizza after seeing me too broke for food for 3 days straight. Then he wanted a fuck first. I talked him into anal, as I was at least decent enough to not bring anyone into the misery known as existence. The pastor ran away after shooting his load inside me. At least I got to snack on cum I dug out of my ass.

I figured that black was really the best color as white jizz nicely contrasted with it. I licked the last bits of it from my lips and reapplied my lipstick, black like my life.

Steady clicks of high heels were the only sound I made as I left the public bathroom.

We killed Him

It was the curse of knowledge. I used to be different. A normal sheep like others. Though I like to think that I was always special. It doesn’t matter anyway. Life has no meaning. Nothing matters. Our reality is just temporary suffering among eternity of nothingness.

I had a philosophy class today, the only thing that made sense in uni, and so it was the only class worth going to. It was here where everything clicked for me.

I had only started dressing up like this two weeks ago. I woke up at 4AM. With online tutorials I managed to doll myself up in only 3 hours. Pale foundation, fake eyelashes, black mascara, liquid eyeliner and of course black lipstick. Since the philosophy class was metaphorical light in the dark, I chose a glossy black lipstick to go with the flow. It only took three full retries before I got it perfect enough. My makeup supplies were quickly running out as I needed to learn, since I never really wore it much before. Well I can always take more student loans to buy more.

It was almost 8AM when I was dressed. Matching thong and bra, lacy and black. A tank top with a skull, two sizes too small that showed both my belly and plenty of cleavage, a mini skirt didn’t even cover my whole ass. I used to be self conscious about my curves. Now I know we are just meat living on a rock. Might as well be a fuckmeat then.

A big black plug was a pain in the ass, but so was life, so if you aren’t plugged can you actually be considered alive? A tight metal collar snapped against my neck, bit too small so it made it hard to breathe. Just like we do by pumping tons of smog into the air every second. Finally a pair of silver hoop earrings matching my collar swung from my ears, and a pair of tight fishnet stockings clung to my milky thighs.

Why? I’m a stereotypical gloomy goth slut and I'm just in my first (and last) year of philosophy classes. I don’t have a gloomy metaphor for everything. Yet

By 10AM I just made it to class just on time, I only had to skip breakfast. It’s hard to walk in 6 inch heels with only two weeks of experience. Extra hard when you have sore feet from walking in 6 inch heels for two weeks straight. I also missed the bus and had to walk all the way. Public transit is a waste of road space anyway. We could have more cars instead. BTW I don’t have a car.

The few girls in class that still try to make conversation ask me if it doesn’t hurt to walk in my heels. Bitch that's the point. Existence is pain, reality is an illusion of suffering, life sucks. Imagine wearing shoes that don’t hurt.

There is no Future

A cock was thrusted all the way into my throat, my gag reflex did not matter. We've been at it for a while now and there was nothing left to throw up by now. Just a cock using my throat as a cocksleeve. Tears ran from my eyes as I struggled to breathe and mixed with my mascara. My face was a mess, with all the retries and hours spent to get it perfect, it might have been like 50 bucks worth of makeup. I only get the best stuff. And now it was ruined with cum, spit, piss and finally my own tears. Everything is temporary anyway, might as well invest into something that won't outlast me.

Once he was done another took his place. Two hookers next to me were getting spitroasted by MBA frat boys and it was only a matter of time till I got a cock in my ass.

I didn't need to wait long for a rich jerk to want to prove his masculinity as he decided removing my latex leggings normally was gay and real men only break stuff. And so my bubble butt, I spent over 5 minutes trying to fit in the size too small pants, spilled out as he tore, and received it deserved attention. The latex leggings were 250. I bought them last week. I wore them for the first time 5 hours ago. And now they were ruined. It proved their fuck-appeal so worth it I guess.

They ran a train on my ass, together with the hookers. I got fucked the hardest as the escorts were bitching something about extra pay when the guys took out phones and started recording. I didn’t listen much as I was busy sucking dick.

By the morning my 100 dollar top was in shreds and my 50 buck choker was snapped. I wasn’t attached to them as I had them for less than a month. The guys paid each hooker a few thousand. They could afford it, they had a good allowance and once they graduated they would get their office, with a slut secretary to bang when they don’t feel like doing their bimbo wife. It was only a matter of time since they started leading big corporations. They knew what mattered the most. Quarterly profits obviously.

I didn’t get paid anything, I was a slut, not a whore. So the whole night cost me 500 hundred bucks in clothes and makeup. Money was a social construct anyway. The ease of getting more student loans proved my point.

Instead of money I got fame, my phone was now constantly ringing from notification as people talked about the videos of me that were shared on social media. My makeup, leggings, even the top looked great before and now others could see it too, buying designer stuff was worth it.

As for my reputation. I did not give a fuck as long as it was not some fake shit. Ruining my future? Who cares, our world is going to collapse. Those MBAs with cushy jobs waiting? They have no future either. They are the ones ruining the world afterall. We are the same. At least when I ruin my future people can see I'm authentic. Life fucks ass all over sooner or later, I just don’t hide it.

Fortunately my heels survived the night. I wore these when I was raped for the first time. They made it impossible to run away when a guy jumped me. So I was rather sentimental about them.

The World is Broken

I didn’t think much at that moment. For once I was full. It was all lies, but it felt like I had a soul for once. Pain. Coke. Pleasure.

As I cried on dick in my throat, I felt a big dick forcing itself in my ass. As the guy roughly pushed in, causing me to be spitroasted I felt the burn deep inside. Earlier tonight I learned to associate it with coke, and it filled my void with sweet lies. Again this night I felt alive, instead of being in a constant state of dying. I know bullshit, but who cares, there is no god to judge me.

And so I found myself moaning on cock in my throat as my ass got an extra rough pounding by a coke fueled cock. Life is rough and it doesn’t coddle you. So why should fucking be different? It hurt, they didn’t care how I felt, but I liked it that way. Our meager existence was a mistake, so it sucked. That lovey dovey gentle stuff? Bullshit and lies. Rough me up, don’t hold back and don’t give a fuck about me. Life is the same, so treat me like life. It's the only proper way to have an actual sincere connection that has basis in reality as opposed to some fluffy BS.

As I felt a deep metaphysical connection with two frat boys whose names I forgot, I realized that the pain I felt was muted. Another load was being shot straight into my stomach and it came to me that I was choking on cock. I was lightheaded and close to fainting, but my head was clear. They warned us about drugs and the risk of addiction. Bitch try giving up oxygen, we are already addicted to life, so what worse can there be?

I had almost fainted before the guy in my mouth finished. And as I grasped for air I felt my mind break. I was a moaning mess, my ass was on fire and I needed it to be fucked harder, I didn’t want it to stop, from depths of my black heart I wished it could go on for the rest of my meager existence. I felt like I was in Heaven. Or Hell, I didn’t know which one. If that was the draw of religion I understood why people did it. Too bad we killed it. No God to take me to Heaven. No Satan to take me to Hell.

Eventually I stopped spasming, and after my brain rebooted I realized I just had my first orgasm. Before I just went with sex, because life wants to fuck you over, might as well cut the middle men and just get fucked directly. Now I know. Pain is Pleasure. I feel stupid it took me so long to realize. Still it changes nothing, goth fucktoy is a goth fucktoy no matter how she feels. But even though I understood the nature of existence and the meaninglessness of life, I was shallow enough to embrace little lies from time to time.

The gangbang went till the morning, I came 4 more times. And my ass still gaped after the guys decided to do double anal, fisting and eventually double anal fisting. At the time I hated it and actually wanted for it to stop and get away. The pain was insane. Now I feel disgusted at myself.

When I realized nothing matters and we are hurrying towards collapse into dystopia, I promised myself to accept the truth that life is pain. No sugar coating, just a raw dose of the bleak reality. I did not want to be a sheep like others that ignored the truth in front of her. I accepted and embraced all pain in life, and it made me free.

But I almost broke my promise. Fortunately the guys ignored my pleas and cuffed me in place. My videos being shared definitely paid off. Even though I never fucked them before, people listened to me and knew who I was at a deep level. Why else would they force me so hard to go through something, If I wouldn’t strongly regret avoiding it in the future?

I woke up almost naked, with cum leaking from my gaping ass on campus. Other students were taking pics of me.I had no idea where my clothes or phone were and my makeup was ruined. I just felt like lazing in the summer, content that I’m still the same me, a gloomy goth fucktoy that can handle anything the world throws at her. I might have been miserable, but it was true misery, rather than fake happiness.

Alas misery breeds company and I couldn’t be left alone suffering quietly in the sunshine. Someone from the dean's office was telling me that I missed all my finals and failed to pay for some classes as well as last month's rent due to overdrafting my student loans. So I was kicked out and evicted.

As I learned my lesson last night, I took in the news of what had been my established life crumbling away well. It was inevitable anyway. Credit cards were like free money so it would be fine.

I would buy some clothes and makeup first and once I was a proper goth fucktoy I could look into getting a place to sleep and some food. I almost never slept at my old place anyway nowadays.

No matter how shocked I was, I had my priorities in order. We are all always getting closer to the end of our meaningless lives. So what's the point if I don’t vibe along the way?

At least I still had my high heels, as I always kept them on during sex. Swaying my hips, clicks announcing my presence, no running and constant soreness were the certainties I needed in my life. The world sucked, but I could always be me, a cumdump that took cum as well as whatever else life threw her at her. As long as my heels were high enough I would not run from myself.

And it broke me

Porn is everywhere and everyone loves it. So I grew up watching it. Anal, throatfucking, spitting, abuse, gangbangs, piss, tears, choking, fisting. Oversexualized girls, big boobs, big butts, tiny skirts, tinier tops. Obviously high heels and heavy makeup. When it is girl on girl, oversized toys and some form of crazy anal is the norm. There is no place for romance. Only fucking. The harder the better.

Obviously we are raised with standards and expectations and feel like we should avoid that sort of life. But the porn remains. We tell ourselves that it is just fantasy. That it is not a way to live. That it is fake and a lie. But porn still remains ever present.

When everything you grew up with is a lie, what do you do? Nothing matters. Society is just a bunch of lies convincing us to ignore the truth and remain content sheep. And when you know the truth you know you can’t change anything anyway. Everything is getting fucked, we just lie to ourselves to feel better.

That was my curse of knowledge. And I couldn’t return to the lies that society calls normal life. So I looked for the truth. It ultimately didn’t matter, I would never amount to anything, and so would no one else. But I still tried to find some truth.

Porn was obviously a lie. But it had a kernel of truth. Everyone watched it. Everyone wanted it. It might have been a lie, but society wanted it to be true. For all the fakeness it was closest to the metaphorical nature of life. It fucks you over without care, life, society porn. Deep down all are the same.

So I will make it my life. Raw and true. All the pain and misery. I will embrace it. I’m going to get abused and degraded. But it’s going to happen directly to my face, rather than behind my back. Life like this sounds horrible and depressing. But that's the universal truth, normally it is just hidden. It makes me cry, but tears are the essence of reality.

At the moment I hate what I’m planning to do. But the world is cruel. And so I will welcome the cruelty. It is no way to live. I know I will hate every moment of it. But it’s impossible to go like that for long. Eventually I will go crazy. I will break. It is inevitable anyway, so I’m just rushing the process.

Once I break I will forget what it feels to be happy. I won’t have any self respect. There will be no boundaries left to be violated. The only thing remaining will be a shell of a girl that only knows to suffer. Raw obsession with sex, self objectification carved into her very core. No aspiration or higher yearning. Just knowledge that she exists to be fucked, and habit that leaves her keeping up appearances so that cycle can repeat. There won’t be happiness to miss. There will be no expecting better of life, only knowing how to live with the worst. The misery of reality will keep delivering. As everything breaks I will be content as I would be already broken.

I like dressing comfortably and having fun with my friends. I find it important to live a healthy and frugal life and try to make the world a better place. I feel uncomfortable being stared at, and hate creepy comments about my appearance. I don’t care much about sex, and I hate anal after several horrible experiences with my ex. I dislike cocky jerks. And I hate high heels and the expectation that women are supposed to wear them.

I will be a goth fucktoy. I will be obsessed with looking like one. I won’t care about friends, fucking strangers will have priority. The world already sucks and is a lost cause, so I might as well share the truth to those who listen. As for health. I will be too busy between looking like a perfect fucktoy and being one.

I already shiver at the idea of stares and catcalls that await me tomorrow. Still I’m going to spend hours to embrace every stereotype about goth sluts with issues. I will be an anal addict. Those guys I hate and make me uncomfortable? I will offer them my ass. And I will beg them to be rougher when I cry from pain.

My clothes and shoes are already burning. I spent 20k on a new wardrobe and I'm paying extra 5k for same day shipping. Fuck appeal obsession is my only allowed hobby, and if it makes me more objectified I don’t look at cost or consequences. Reviews about quality or comfort don’t matter, looks are the only point.

Another 10k was spent on toys. I threw out my vibe. I rarely used it as I didn’t like sex much. I still don’t but that doesn’t change the fact that I will be a desperate nympho so I better act like it. Big plugs, huge dildoes, cuffs, whips and so on. All of them will hurt, but I will keep breaking my ass until it becomes reflex. As an anal addict it is only a matter of time before I start obsessing over it passively without forcing it.

Finally my heels. Fuck me shoes. 6 inches tall at minimum. Stilettos over blocky ones. What if they are not meant for walking? What if my feet feel like falling off? I will hate every step. I don’t look for opinions if the heels are comfortable. I look for complaints. Louboutins? 1k torture devices. So I got them. I will suffer to be even more sexualized. Fuck appeal over comfort is my motto. No one will ever see me without heels anymore. Making my ass look more fuckable is the only thing I can care about. Pain is irrelevant.

Hi, I was in the mood to write a goth girl prompt. And made this. Yes I got carried away.

Rather than a prompt I hope you like the vibe my collection of vignettes gives. Instead of a plot I hope you somewhat understand the hyper stereotypical goth slut character I made. A pure doom and gloom goth slut. A girl that learned about nihilism and now deep sounding yet empty metaphors are her entire personality. A bundle of depression and misery with a killer body who only exists to be sexualized. A masochistic nympho slut, who sees rough abuse by everyone as the relationship goal.

If you read all the way here and got aroused, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Know that normally I average 3+ paragraphs per reply, so this prompt is an exception rather than my standard.

If you are a guy, know that one cock is not enough and I want to make gangbangs a norm. If you are a girl we can play anything from you domming and breaking my character in your preferred ways, to being a younger sister or simply less experienced sub that is curious about my character and finds herself pushed into a merciless gangbang. I’m a switch and always happy to enlighten others to the misery of the world and make more broken sluts. If you are trans, nb or femboy feel free to also send a message. Of course if you have your own idea that could use my character for it feel free to shoot.

As for my kinklist I especially love: Slutty outfits and makeovers, high heels, tendon shortening, anal, anal stretching, ass to mouth, throatfucking, facials, bukkake, gangbangs, body writings, slutty tattoos, rough sex, abuse, CNC, BDSM, bestiality, watersports, drugs and drug abuse, mind break, social suicide, porn shooting and others.

As for limits I won't do scat, vore, gore, blood and unrealistic hyper. But I’m quite open minded to a lot of stuff.

Finally I RP on Discord, and prefer people that can play multiple characters. If you want a guaranteed reply tell me what sort of high heels do you like. We can just take it easy, chat and figure out how we vibe with each other.

A

“Well… well FINE!” I shout, stomping my foot onto the pavement.

My so-called friends walk away, undeterred from what I’ll admit was a bit of a tantrum. I stand just off the curb, plastic jack-o-lantern bucket hanging from my elbow, the rather sultry vampiress cloak flowing in the gentle breeze around my legs. Fortunately, the heel I’d stomped into the concrete remained intact, and I somehow avoided losing my balance.

Other trick-or-treaters giggle and scream as they run around the street. The sidewalk is swarming with ‘appropriately sized’ gremlins and superheroes, many of whom are accompanied by an adult. I watch small groups of friends talking amongst themselves, hearing one group talking about which house to get to next. There’s more than a little envy in my heart as I watch my ‘friends’ from a distance, still standing right where they left me as if expecting them to come back.

They don’t. My lower lip pouts out, tears actually forming in my eyes as they get into the car we drove here. The lights come on, all doors close, and they start driving away. No ghouls were harmed in the making of this abandonment, but one vampire in particular is more hurt than she’d care to admit.

’Christ, I am being juvenile,’ I think, rolling my eyes at how pitiful I am.

I wipe the stubborn tears away and force a shrug. More candy for me, right? It’s lame, a pitiful attempt to reclaim my night, but it works just enough. They can go find a party somewhere, they can get drunk and fuck. Last I checked, none of us are exactly old enough for alcohol anyway. Stuck in the void between legal drinking and ‘frivolous’ fun, but I’d rather have this frivolous fun anyway. Who says college kids can’t trick-or-treat? Where is that written?

The one-sided debate rages in my head as I walk up to the next house. I’m distracted, alone, and working myself into a rage that threatens to bring an abrupt end to my night, so I take a moment to ground myself on the porch before ringing the bell. Whoever is inside probably witnesses a vampire giving herself an internal pep talk, but I don’t care. After taking a calming breath and checking my reflection in the glass embedded in the door, I extend a hand and press the doorbell.

~~

Heya!

Looking for a rather festive slice-of-life RP. I’ll consider this RP available to and through Halloween, always looking for fun partners who want to get a little creative with their writing. Detailed partners wanted, I tend to match my partners for length, but will often default to 5+ paragraphs per response.

Who you are is completely up to you. Whether you’re some older man handing out candy while the wife and goblins are out on their own adventure, a house of roommates just itching to find someone for some illicit entertainment, an actual vampire in need of a warm body to sink more than just your fangs into, or something else entirely! Just come with an idea, and feel free to dive into it!

Character description: A young woman with a petite frame. She stands juuuuust over 5’ and will fight you about it. Though, officially she’s 4’11”. Her figure comes from over 15 years of gymnastics, plus another five years of cheerleading. Taut legs thick with muscle, toned ass begging to be slapped, shallow muscles framing her navel, and perky breasts that aren’t quite a handful.

She has silky, crimson hair that reaches beyond her shoulders, naturally curled with the ends bouncing between her shoulder blades. Her eyes are like dazzling emeralds, with a slight sparkle when she gives a nose-crinkling smile. Light freckling decorates her face, stretching over her nose from cheek to cheek. The freckles stand out a little more after getting some sun on her fair skin, which never seems to tan. Only going from pale, to varying tints and shades of red, back to porcelain.

Tonight, she is wearing a vampiress costume that is partially store-bought, and partially thrifted. She got her friends on-board with trick-or-treating with a compromise; she’d make her costume more slutty than it needs to be, and then they could take her to a party. Instead of the plastic fangs that came with the costume, she is using hand-made artificial teeth she learned to make on YouTube. The flowing cloak came out of the costume package, fishnet stockings from a different store, and the heels were a lucky find at Goodwill. Other parts of her costume were traded and sourced from her friends, making it all look equally authentic, and darkly seductive.

Limits: Scat, vomit, waterworks, poor hygiene.

Kinks: Size difference, big dicks, big balls, extreme loads, monsters, being manhandled, choking, biting, scratching, spanking, impact play, creampie, breeding, talk/threat of pregnancy, rough sex, passionate sex, hair pulling, belly/throat bulge, hentai logic, gangbang, and plenty more.