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Danielle's Request Thread

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danielle_h35

Banned
Banished
Joined
Apr 9, 2015
Location
Florida
Hey everyone! I've decided to completely revamp my request thread, and include every plot that I'd like to try out in one single post, rather than update it with only one idea at a given time. And so, this is my attempt at doing so. It'll be a work in progress, and so, please pardon the dust, so to speak. Things may be confusing at times, such as if I haven't completely finished laying out the details for an idea yet, or if I haven't completely removed an old plot as of yet. Anyway, on with the new thread, which I'll edit and change over the next few days, probably pretty heavily. This probably won't be an organized post for a few days :)

My kinks will vary, depending on the plot which is chosen. I'll do my best to include the kinks that apply to the plot within the plot description itself as well as for each plot, so don't mind me if things seem to repeat themselves at times. Multiple kinks apply to multiple plots, is basically what I'm saying.

My limits however are a different story. I have hard limits for all but one in particular, which I'll have an explanation for, should you open the plot that it refers to. So basically, I'll list my limits in list form in this section, and just say that one of them has an exception. You'll find out, if it matters :)

Limits:
**I cannot and will not play the dominant role - neutral or sub only**
Oral-to-anal contact of any kind
Anal fingering
Pregnancy (risk is okay)
Incest
Bestiality
Blood
Mutilation of any kind
Mid-to-heavy violence (light is okay under the right circumstances)
Scat or anything of the sort
Public scenes​


And now, here are the plots which I personally enjoy playing. My cravings are constantly changing, so if you're unsure, just ask me :) I'll try and update the post regularly to reflect my current cravings, but I'm in no way guaranteeing that it will be updated at all times, or even at all. I'll always be open to playing any and all of my ideas, but if you're interested in what I'm currently craving, then I'd ask just to play it safe. Also, feel free to suggest a plot of your own. Obviously there are no guarantees, but I'm more than happy to at least consider any ideas you'd like to send my way :) One last thing: this list will have a combination of quick plot summaries, detailed plots, or sample intros which reflect the entire plot within them. It all comes down to what I've worked out in a way that I find to be really good, as opposed to having not worked with an idea all that much and hence only having a very short outline of it, or somewhere in between. My plan is to create detailed sample intros for all of my plots eventually. For now though, just expect something along the lines of those three things.


My main plot list:

Here, my plots will be titled by the pairing that suits them. I've found that that's the best way to go about it, since kinks and details tend to come after that's been settled anyway.​

Disclaimer:
For the most part, I choose to play as myself, except for canon plots (obviously). At times I may add a character in for me to play the part of as well as myself, but my first and strongest preference is that I use myself as my "character". There will be times where that changes, but you can largely expect that I'll be looking to build a plot around myself with YC.​


Plot summaries
(general plot ideas, very open to change as preferred)


**Preferred**
[Naive Wife/Girlfriend] x [Amateur/Professional Porn Stud]
Length: Mid/Short-Term
MC's age range: 20-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
raceplay, infidelity, conversion, con/semi-con, spanking, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking

Plot summary:

Happily in a relationship, I would be living life with my boyfriend/husband with no reason whatsoever to suspect that anything is wrong. Basically, as far as I know, we're as happy as can be, and I'm madly in love with him. Then, one night as I'm using our computer, I'd find that he left a folder open. Naturally curious, I'd look at what was in it, only to be more shocked than anything else to discover that it was his porn folder. Not only that, but all of the videos involved some kind of interracial theme, mostly involving a white girl being absolutely overwhelmed and dominated by a black or Latino guy. There would even be one marked as his "favorite", which was literally named as such. Stunned, especially since he's got a racist streak going, I'd close the folder and pretend like I never saw it.

As the days went on, I'd find myself curious to see more of the videos. Not because I liked what I saw, but because I was trying to figure out what it meant that he seemed to have so many of them, and what it was about his "favorite" one that seemed to be different than the others. And after spending nearly a month of snooping around the folder while he was away, I'd come to the conclusion that its gotta mean that he has a kink for it, but also that it must mean that he has a fantasy to see me in the sort of situation that his favorite video depicted. I wouldn't talk to him about it, and I wouldn't mention that I found the folder or his favorite video. Instead, I began convincing myself that it would be a nice surprise to let him find a new video in his folder, named exactly the same as his favorite one, but instead replaced with a video of me in the exact scenario. At the time I thought it would be a great idea. It doesn't matter that it would be a huge mistake or misconception, and it doesn't matter that he would clearly get upset about it. The idea is that I'd be naive enough to believe that this is the only reason he would have such a collection of interracial videos.

And so, I would place an ad somewhere (perhaps Craigslist or a made-up site that caters to this sort of thing) seeking a nonwhite guy willing to remake the video with me playing the part of the overwhelmed and dominated white girl. Once our characters talk online and YC discovers how this came to be, he would try and talk sense into me by pointing out that this in NO way means my man would want to see me like that. I'd be the one to push back on that by saying that YC doesn't know him like I do, and so on. So basically, YC would eventually be like "okay... if you say so..." and go forward with it. I'd basically be not only naive, but convinced that I'm giving my man a pleasant surprise. The scene would involve us remaking the video. This also works for "[Naive Wife/Girlfriend] x [Dirty Old Man]"



Coworkers 1
MC's age range: 20-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
raceplay, taming racism, conversion, con, spanking, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking

Rough plot outline:
1.) We meet
2.) YC learns about my racist upbringing
3.) YC now motivated to "set me straight"
4.) YC gets the opportunity to execute a plan
5.) I take the bait
6.) I fall right into YC's trap, exactly as planned​


Rough plot summary:

I just started where you work, and you end up as my trainer. Naturally, you ask things about me - I have a bf, live with him, blah blah - and we make normal conversation everyday, like anyone else would, but one day you hear from someone else, "did you hear about the new girl? I heard she doesn't like (YC's race)". Surprised by what you hear, you pay attention to try and pick up on signs that its true, but you don't find a single one. So instead, you decide to try and draw it out of me - maybe I'm hiding it because of (YC's race), after all? And so, you start asking baited questions, and that's where you start to notice clues. "Welfare this" and "deadbeat dad" that, careful to say "but you're different, you work" after anything that I say to you. You start asking me to explain why I say the things that I say, and realize that I have nothing to say of my own, that it now seems that I'm simply reciting what I'm told by someone, and after a little digging, you learn that my parents hate (YC's race). Finally it all makes sense, but now I have a bulls-eye on my back. Not because you want to harm me, but rather because you want to teach me to learn from experience. The message you'd send to my parents after I'm hooked on you and bringing you places with me would be just an added bonus.

When a training opportunity arises, and you're the first to know about it, you raise your hand immediately, since you know it involves taking your trainee with you, halfway across the country. Knowing you'd have me far from anyone I'd know, you figure you can seduce me into trying out submitting to you for a night, confident that it would change my tune about (YC's race) by the time you're done with me.

Your plan is simple: some drinks at the hotel bar to get me good and buzzed, but not quite drunk, and back to the hotel room we would go, where you'd turn up your game, enticing me with intense promises of what you could do to me, and watch my resolve melt right into the palm of your hand as I clearly haven't ever had anybody talk to me like that before. You won't force me, you want me to make the decision myself, and that's exactly what I do.




**Preferred**
Coworkers 2
(an "improvement" of coworkers 1)
MC's age range: 20-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
raceplay, taming racism, conversion, con, spanking, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking

Plot summary:

Basically, I'd meet you at my new job, and it wouldn't take long for you to learn about my "biases" and all that. I'd never intend to be openly racist, but it just comes through way more than I intend, and it eventually becomes obvious to YC that I was raised that way. So now that YC knows about my feelings and where they come from, just realizes that sense can't be talked into me, and that the "damage has been done" so to speak

At first, YC just dislikes me right off the bat. Rude to me when he can be, and standoffish with me when I don't see it coming. Basically, I'd learn real fast that YC just doesn't like me in the least. I just get ready to have an enemy at work that I figure at worst I'll need to deal with a comment or two here and there and that'll be it. However, in actuality, YC would have a far different approach, because he wants to "correct" my ways, rather than let me live the way that I am now. And so, the next time that I interact with YC, instead of starting a fight with me, he's pointing out things about me that I'm clearly insecure about, and it continues that way for the next few months, until eventually my confidence is eroded to an all time low.

At that point, YC switches to "backhanded flirting". Basically, he would use those insecurities I have that I clearly can't "fix" and basically talk about them like they're "perfect" for a man of his race. At first, I'd ignore it, but eventually, they get to me. YC made me feel the lowest I have in my life, but now he's convincing me that they make me perfect for a man of his race. So his comments work their way under my skin, as he convinces me that the stuff I try so hard to get rid of is actually not only accepted by desired by guys like him, that my work could be "done" if I were to just accept that I've been misguided and to realize where I should have been looking all along, and that I was raised to hate what I was built perfectly to be with. After a while, the comments have done their damage, as I'm now finding myself wondering what life would be like as a "perfect white girl" for a guy like YC.

From here, YC would know that he's got me, and moves ahead with the final stage of his seduction (which I'll let you decide how it would work) in an effort to get me, alone, to his place, where he can put the exclamation point on me and not only convince me "how wrong I've been my whole life", but also start my conversion into the worldview that he wants me to have.



[Bully] x [Victim's Girlfriend]
MC's age range: 20-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
raceplay, taming racism, conversion, enemies, con, spanking, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking, territorial fun

Plot summary:

**Note that this is more of a story than a summary, and that our scene can start anywhere within the story. It also goes on beyond where this stops. This is just a full layout of the details of how I see it going**


My relationship with my boyfriend started out great, but as time went on, we began to fight more and more. While this may be common in many couples, the difference with us is that it stems from the stress I'm experiencing because of his inability to perform in the bedroom. Eventually, even he begins to realize that something needs to be done, and so he starts a discussion about it with me one night. That conversation inevitably leads to a result that he wasn't happy at all to hear - I'm thinking about leaving him. In a desperate scramble to keep me from leaving him, he suggests a "solution" to the problem. One that's so outlandish that he figures that I'd surely reject it, but perhaps see that he "tried" and change my mind about leaving. However, much to his shock, I tell him that I'm seriously going to think about it. His plan had backfired - his suggestion was that I could have one "fling" with someone besides him, if I felt that it would satisfy me, and I just bluntly told him that I'm seriously going to think about it. He wasn't sure what to do now.

Over the coming days, he spent his free time thinking of how he could deter me from doing this, without looking like the bad guy. However, he just couldn't think of anything. And so, he was left with one option - give me his good graces, with traces of guilt mixed in, and just hope that it would make me change my mind. It didn't work out as he had hoped, but by now, he had resigned himself to the fact that it was this or nothing, and he wasn't exactly confident enough in his chances with finding a new girlfriend to get in my way. Instead, he begrudgingly watched me walk out the door, on my way to a "date" with a man who I had arranged to meet at a local place. Neither of us had any idea just who I was meeting.

Showing up where we had arranged to meet, YC and I would hit it off really well right from the start. After the introductions, things quickly picked up and soon we were talking about our personal lives (which was never intended given that this was supposed to be a one night thing), but it couldn't be helped. The chemistry between us was really good. YC had already known from our texting and emailing just why I was doing this, despite having a boyfriend, but after talking as much as I had, YC was able to discover something interesting - my boyfriend was the same person YC had bullied throughout his school life. Suddenly, I had a giant bullseye on my back and I didn't even realize it. Not only had YC spent his school years making an example out of my boyfriend, but he was about to bring his girlfriend back to his place. It would be the ultimate icing on the cake for YC.

Coming home the next morning after the best sex of my life, my boyfriend would interrogate me at the door, since I was supposed to be home last night. But I was carefree - I simply shut him down by waving him off and walking right past him, making sure he knew that I was in an excellent mood and would talk about this later. He would drop it for now, and life would go on as usual... until YC messages me again a few days later, which I was incredibly receptive to. Soon enough, we were talking on a regular basis, even though we were supposed to have cut all ties and never continued this. YC knew he had me hooked though, and he knew who my boyfriend was too. There was no way he was going to let this slip away that easily, and his plan worked. By the end of the week, I made plans to meet YC again, and I even made sure to tell my boyfriend. I wasn't going to hide behind any of it, but I was stern now. Either he let me continue this here and there, or there would be no "us". Once again cornered, he agrees to my terms, which were now that I would be allowed to do this regularly, within reason, and we settled on once a week. He hated it, but until he "solved his issue", it was his only option.

After a few weeks, YC would begin to shift gears in an attempt to meet at my place for a change. Obviously this would be largely in part to see the look on my boyfriends face when YC was at the door, but at the moment, I still had no idea about the history between you two. And so, I gladly said that we could meet at my place this weekend instead. Telling my boyfriend about this, he would be pretty upset, but would also remember his place in all of this, and decide that it would be best to just leave the house for the night when YC would be over. And it continued that way for the following few weeks, but then one night, my boyfriend had no place to go for the night. His friends had plans, and they hadn't known about why he had to be out one night a week. He just let them believe it was a new thing he was doing. So he found himself at the bar. After a few drinks however, he began to decide that it would be a good idea to show up and stand up for himself, and tell me that this isn't happening again and that I was done meeting this guy. And so he would head to the house, quietly sneak inside, only to hear us upstairs in the bedroom. As he approached the stairs, he could hear enough to finally tell what was happening - I was in the middle of giving YC a blowjob. This infuriates him, since I've turned down giving him one since we started dating. So he walks upstairs, turns the corner, and freezes in place as he makes eye contact with YC, knowing full well just who he is.

After a moment of standing in place in shock, he would call out to me, only to have me ignore him. He would call out to me again, proclaiming that I never do that to him, and to get up, that this was over. But once again, I ignore him. YC finally chimes in at this point, saying "she's busy man, come back later", which only infuriates my boyfriend further, but YC cuts him off before he can go any further. "Your girl knows her place now, she won't answer you until she's done... only me. I'm serious." Standing there, dumbfounded, heartbroken, and no idea what to say, YC would once again break the silence. "Right, Danielle?", to which I would make a muffled "mmm-hmmm..." while continuing YC's blowjob. YC would then go on once again. "Like I said, you're gonna have to come back later...", and with that, my boyfriend turns around to leave, not knowing what else to do, but not before YC once again speaks up. "You know, we're gonna need a couple of drinks before you go... mind taking care of that for us?", and with nothing to say, and feeling utterly defeated, he begrudgingly obliges, without saying a word, before leaving us to ourselves once again. At this point, he would admit defeat, and actually stick around downstairs for our meetings from now on, to actually do things like that for us (get us things we need, and so on). He would also finally stop trying to control how often we meet.



Interracial seduction
MC's age range: 20-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
raceplay, infidelity, conversion, semi-con, spanking, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking

Plot summary:

Having just started dating my boyfriend 6 months ago, I'd start putting off my friends for him more and more often. Most of them would understand, but one of my friends, Liz, just grew to dislike him for it. To Liz, it seemed like he was taking me away from my friends and trying to control my life. In reality, he just wasn't originally in our "circle of friends", but Liz felt that anybody I dated should be somebody we already knew, for no reason other than selfishness.

However, as the months dragged on, the static between my boyfriend and Liz only grew. She'd called him out and accused him of things he had never done, at least not intentionally, such as "keeping me from my friends". And so, the backhanded comments that were bouncing back and forth between the two of them had finally pushed Liz to do something about it.

Out of all of us, Liz was probably the one with the most "connections" when it came to getting things done by way of trouble. So when she had set out to do something about my boyfriend, of course she had somebody waiting in the wings to try and "set me up with". All she had to do was convince me that my boyfriend was no good for me, and that she knew somebody who not only found me attractive, but was actually into me. The only catch being that he's black - something she knows I've never been into. But after weeks upon weeks of feverish persistence, she finally managed to get me to agree to a "double date" at this friend's place, but I also made it clear that I was doing it to shut her up about it.

I'd lie to my boyfriend about where I was going, but my intentions weren't to cheat. I was simply going to hang out for as little as possible before leaving at the first chance I had. The plan was simple, but Liz knew me better than that. Her plan was simple as well: tell her black friend all about me, including my "weaknesses", and then use them to win me over. Sure, she hadn't told him about my lack of attraction to men like him, but she did make sure to mention that I'd never been with black before.

And so, when the night came for the four of us to hang out (Liz and her boyfriend, along with YC and I), we would all be sitting in the living room, talking for the most part, except for me, who's mostly staying silent on the couch, my nose in my phone, doing my best to show my lack of interest. But since Liz expected this, she gets up with her boyfriend, as planned, and simply walks out of the room, making sure to mention that she'll "leave us two lovebirds alone". I was pissed, but I didn't want to be rude. And so I didn't ignore you. Rather, I let you use what you knew about me to slowly seduce me, which along with a few drinks, would have Liz coming back to find a trail of my clothes leading to YC's bedroom, the sound of hips smacking into me over and over being clearly heard from behind the door, right alongside my moans and my crying out of YC's name.



**Preferred**
[Black Dad] x [Spoiled White High School Girl]
(inspired by a nonsexual situation that actually happened to me)
MC's age range: 16-17 (option for 20-21)
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
virgin, ageplay, age gaps, raceplay, taming racism, conversion, non-con/semi-con, spanking, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking, collaring

Plot summary:

This plot would take place back when I was 16 and in high school, throwing a sexual spin on a nonsexual thing that actually happened to me.

There was a black girl who I was pretty good friends with when I was 16, or at least good enough friends to be invited to go on a family trip with them to Virginia. I gladly went, but once we had all gotten there, my "friend" had all but abandoned me, ditching me to hang out with one of the girls who lived in the house we were staying in when we got there. I was pretty mad about it, especially because it went on for more than just one day. By halfway through the second day, I was on the phone with my mom, who drove to get me and bring me home. I never talked to her again.

What I was thinking was that this could take a sexual spin on the second day that I've been ditched by my friend. While she simply heads out, leaving me behind with the rest of her family, maybe I can't help but say something under my breath, but just loud enough to be heard, because I want them to know how mad I was. To let them know that they screwed me over, because I just couldn't let it go and just call my mom without antagonizing them.

Well, as I'm dialing on the phone, clearly angry, her dad would manually hang up the phone with his finger before I can finish putting in the number to call home. Looking at him, I'd watch him take the phone from my hand and tell me that I'm coming with him. More than intimidated, I'd be speechless, but I wouldn't resist or protest as he pulled me with him, leading me downstairs, and locking the door behind us.

Once the door was locked, he would turn around and face me, a look on his face that would send chills up my spine, and from that moment on, I wouldn't lift a finger to fight him. Rather, I'd obey every instruction, let him do whatever he wanted to me, but most of all, I would be more than willing to do exactly what he would tell me I wouldn't leave until I did - apologize, and mean it. And so I'd spend as long as he wanted, "convincing" him just how sorry I was, not leaving until he knows that I sincerely mean it, and spending the rest of the trip happily accepting what I was getting so upset about after we'd gotten here.

Sample intro - "Crossing Mr. Crump":

To say that I was pissed didn't even begin to scratch the surface. For the second day straight, one of my best friends - a girl I've been friends with for 6 years - had opted to leave me by myself back at the house we were staying in. We'd traveled halfway up the coast to stay in Virginia for two weeks in her father's business home in the city of Richmond. He had traveled for business quite a bit, but found himself in Richmond nearly 75% of the time. And so, he bought a small place on the outskirts of the city.

My friend traveled with her dad a lot, and so she had a friend in the area that she would meet whenever she would be in town, which she'd never once told me about. Once we arrived, she wasted no time in driving off, leaving me behind when I told her that I wasn't feeling the city so soon after arriving and that I'd rather relax before anything like that. It pissed me off, but I let it slide for the day. Now that we were on the second day, I was fully expecting things to return to normal, but they hadn't. Instead, she was gone before I had even woken up, and I wasn't having it. There was very little to do, if anything at all. I wasn't spending two whole weeks alone and stuck out here with no car. More furious than pissed by now, I acted on instinct once I discovered that she was gone that morning, before I had even woken up.

I walk toward the bedroom door, hearing her dad out in the living room, I headed out there to confirm that my friend was in fact gone. I knew that she was, I wasn't stupid. But somebody had to know that I was pissed, and somebody had to see me get on the phone about it. I thought about instead asking her dad what I could do, why she was ditching me, but I knew that he would likely express that he felt sorry for me or perhaps even call me a cab to get into the city for something to do. He was always overly nice when it came to things like that, but it wasn't worth it now. I wanted to go home, and I knew that he couldn't bring me home. And so, I took the low road, and decided that I'd show my clear anger to him in the hopes that he would pass it along to his daughter. She was out for over 12 hours yesterday. At that rate, I was sure to be gone by the time she was back, never to speak to her again.

Walking outside, looking around only to see with my own eyes that she was gone, I walk back in, shaking my head. "I don't even know why she asked me to fucking come along... she ditched me AGAIN!" and walked off to the phone. I found myself growing only more angry by the second, as I was now digging up hunches that I've had in the past and treating them like truths, just to justify why she would do this to me. Such as the hunch that I've always had that she felt like she was better than me, and that she herself was racist, while ignoring the fact that I was brought up to be. Turning around, unable to keep from venting even further, I go on. "You know... your daughter is a fucking racist bitch...! I'm sorry, but it's true and somebody needs to hear it! She's never treated me like she treats her other friends and I'm fucking done with it... I'm getting outta here...!"

Picking up the phone, I start to dial home, but with only 4 numbers dialed, I watch a black finger reach from behind me, slowly pressing down the switch to hang the phone up while I'm still holding it to my ear. Then, feeling a hand on my shoulder, the phone is lifted from my ear, and hung back up on the wall. I felt a pit in my stomach, as I was turned around, my eyes widening a bit, to face none other than the man who had heard me say enough. "Why don't you head on downstairs, Danielle... so we can have a little chat..." After staring at him, petrified, I nod slowly. "O-okay..." and with that, I turn where he had been pointing, and find my way downstairs with him in tow.



**Preferred**
The Easy Way Out
MC's age range: 20-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
raceplay, taming racism, conversion, con, spanking, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking, collaring

Rough plot outline:
1.) I'm happy (or happy-ish) in my relationship
2.) My boyfriend and I are financially desperate
3.) (I/we) are presented with an opportunity to change that
4.) After reluctance and contemplation, (I/we) take said opportunity
5a.) (If just me): The "deal" changes my sex life forever, and for the better, leaving me craving more
5b.) (If I'm with my bf): The "deal" leaves me satisfied but craving more, whereas my boyfriend silently regrets the entire thing
6.) Our financial situation gets solved
7.) My boyfriend is stuck coping with my newfound desire for sexual exploration, just not with him

Rough plot summary:

I would be happily in love with my boyfriend (or only somewhat happy, up to you), and depending on the age that I play (from 20 to 27 in this plot), I may or may not be a mom. Other than that, my boyfriend and I are in a bad financial place, and its all or nothing for us pretty soon. Not able to afford Las Vegas, we instead drive to Atlantic City in the hopes of hitting it big. We would go off on our own to gamble at times, and the first time I go off on my own, I bump into YC, a black man in the porn scene, seeking out his next "girl" for his business. Getting a hunch when he sees me, he strikes up a conversation, and I play right into it. In no time at all, YC learns about our "financial situation" after digging into why I came to Atlantic City with my boyfriend, among other things. Being an incredibly observant man however, it doesn't take long for YC to pick up on the fact that:

1.) I'm racist, or at least have racist tendencies
2.) I see our financial situation as being impossible to dig ourselves out from
3.) I'm the kind of girl who would much prefer the "easy way out" of a bad situation

All in all, YC sees what he needs to see to think that I might be an easy bribe, and since this is how he finds his "girls" anyway, he decides to go for it, figuring he has nothing to lose, and gives me an offer that I just can't refuse - he'll bail me AND my boyfriend out of our financial woes, if I sign on the line and do a "black on white" video for his site. At first, I'd be blown away by the offer, immediately explaining that I'm not exactly into black men, which YC would boldly proclaim was easy to see, and was exactly why he chose that theme - he felt that a scene where a racist white girl hooks up with a black man to tame her racism would be a nice addition to his site. Left speechless, I would watch as YC handed me his card, in case I reconsider. It would take a few hours, and I would either discuss it with my boyfriend or leave him in the dark about it, depending on what you'd prefer, but YC's phone would be ringing about halfway through the afternoon, as I call to tell him that I'll do it.



Dirty Old Man x Desperate Girl
MC's age range: 16-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
virgin, ageplay, extreme age gaps, raceplay, semi-con/con, focus on oral sex, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking, collaring

Plot summary:

Due to some kind of problem in my life (such as financial distress), I would be going about my daily routine with a constant scowl on my face. YC - a much, much older man in my daily life - would have noticed that I wasn't always like this. Even less than 5 years ago, I was happier, smiled a lot, had a contagious laugh... but those things were all but gone from my normal behavior now, and he was concerned as well as curious. And so, when the opportunity warranted the question, YC asks me about my apparent change in happiness. At first, I'm bottled up about it, but it doesn't take long for YC to get it out of me. Having known me for as long as he has, YC would know how to talk to me to get the info he wanted out of me, and on top of that, he knew for a fact that he was far smarter than I was. Having easily pushed my buttons to learn what he wanted to know, YC had only gone on to realize that he's the perfect person to solve my problem.

YC was known for being a really nice guy, and it was widely known. Even so, he's been feeling "lonely" at home lately. Living alone, YC's daily life involved waking up, and hanging around the house doing chores and eating when necessary, only occasionally leaving the house for anything other than necessity. So when he found himself in the situation where he could help me out of a situation I clearly was desperate to get out of, he couldn't help but let his mind wander.

It wasn't long before YC had made up his mind - he would offer his help, but it would come at a cost. In exchange for fully and entirely solving my problem, I would need to go to his house, alone, to "keep him company" for the night, and to discuss the terms of our deal.





Plots with sample intros
(more lengthy, less able to change)


Enemy Neighbors
MC's age range: 16-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
raceplay, taming racism, conversion, semi-con/con, spanking, handcuffs, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking

Sample plot intro:

I was living a happy life. I was in my 20's, happily living with my boyfriend, and pretty well liked by anybody in my daily life. Somehow, I'd managed to gain the reputation as being one of the most fun people to be around, at least with most of the people I knew, despite exhibiting the effects of a racist upbringing from time to time.

Those who knew me well enough told me that I was all smiles on the surface, but also that when someone got to truly know me, it was beyond easy to see the racial biases that I was raised with. I was always easily able to shrug such comments off, but I didn't really see what they were talking about. I did my best to be nice, and I wasn't simply spouting at the mouth with offensive comments, and so that was the "me" that I felt I really was. So when a relatively new black neighbor and I started having issues, I had all but placed the entirety of the blame on him for our conflicts, because I was convinced that I was smart about hiding the effects of my upbringing, especially from someone such as him. Truthfully, it was so ingrained within me that there was no way to stop it, nevermind realize what I shouldn't be saying or doing. I just didn't see it, because that was all normalcy for me.

At first, I actually stressed over what was happening between him and I. But after a while, I started to write him off. After all, who was he to tell me that I was an absolute bitch? I was here first. If he doesn't like it he can go to the city where he belongs! - these were thoughts which I found myself consistently having about him, and were precisely why I had offended him in the first place. I felt that I was in the right in thinking those things, simply not seeing just how wrong they were to believe. I was carefree about it all, and I made it apparent in any of the arguments that we had. So much so that my arrogance was shining brightly for at least him to see - an arrogance that I had no idea I even had. My parents had raised me with the mentality that I was better than people like him, amongst other horrible ideals, which led to my typical behavior of not really considering how my actions affected people like him, negatively or not. But since I was never taught to worry about it, it was only a matter of time before I would be forced to face the consequences of my actions. In my case, you would be the first one to stand up to me, as well as give me my first reality check.

It wasn't long before your complaints about me led to verbal wars between us. These wars always ended the same way - with me laughing and smiling while you went off furiously about something I said or did. And it wasn't long before even that escalated. You quickly learned that calling me out on my actions would get nowhere fast, and so your complaints quickly turned to simple but direct comments. Comments that were sure to offend me like I had done to you, but also get directly to the point, and it worked. My smiles vanished, my laughter was gone, and all in all, you could tell that you were reaching me finally. You weren't naive enough to believe that it would change anything, but at least you knew that I was hearing you finally.

With that, there was only one way you could think of to vent your frustrations on a regular basis - you started a journal. After all, you were finally reaching my ears, but you knew that I wouldn't do anything about it regardless. And so venting on paper was a reasonable way to get the stress of our conflicts off of your shoulders. It didn't solve any problems, but it sure it made you feel better, at least briefly. You didn't exactly hide it either. Every single entry you made seemed to be out in the open. After every offensive comment you made to me after I did something, I watched you head out to the back porch with a book and start writing eagerly. At first I wasn't sure what you were doing, but it didn't take long for me to realize that you were most likely venting on paper. Once I realized that, I absolutely needed to see what you were writing. Along with my racially ignorant upbringing, I was always given what I wanted, and because of that I simply couldn't let it go. I saw you writing in your journal, and from that point on I was determined to get my hands on it, simply just to read it. After a few weeks, I would get my chance.

I was walking into the back yard when I was watching you write in your journal, right after we had just fought about yet another thing that I felt I never did. You got a phone call and stepped away from the table. With my eyes trained to watch you as you were writing, I noticed immediately that you got in your car, somewhat hurriedly, and sped off. Must have been an emergency, but I wasn't thinking much about the reason why you left - you'd left your journal right there on the table. I wasted no time whatsoever in sneaking over to grab it either. After I snuck it off of the table on your back porch, I decided it would be best if I took it back home with me, just in case you showed up again. I'd rather you found it missing than to find me with it, after all. Once I made it back home with it, I smiled victoriously as I held it in my hands, and opened it up. I was beyond stunned after just reading the very first page.

Each entry in your journal was a summary of what we fought about or what you said to me for each conflict between us, but that wasn't what I found so shocking. Rather, it was the much longer explanations following these summaries, where you'd explained, in vivid detail actually, some rather specific fantasies involving my submission and my surrender to you. In each of these fantasies, there was one common denominator - I was on my knees, giving you a long, slow, sloppy, sensual and loving blowjob, taking breaks to apologize and announce my surrender to you, admitting how wrong I was, and acknowledging that this will break me of my racism.

But that was only the beginning. You had me taking breaks to kiss your cock from base to tip, drag my lips along the shaft and head, sometimes both lips, but others just my lower lip, licking the shaft with the flat of my tongue and the head with the tip of it, and rubbing it on my face to dry it off and start all over again, detailing times of over an hour for it to last, with you controlling your own orgasm by having me follow the pace you set for me to do it, and waiting for the longest possible time you could bear to let it go on before "blowing your load" all over my face and in my hair.

To put it bluntly, I was absolutely shocked. I'd obviously never been with a black guy before, but on top of that, I'd never gotten a facial before, and so it hit me especially hard to see that you, of all people, wanted so badly to give me one. It actually threw a whole new spin on what a facial could imply to me - some kind of symbolism of defeat, in a weird way, and it STILL wasn't done.

Following the longest blowjob of my life, having surrendered and submitted to you, there were various different ways that your handwritten fantasies had gone. Despite the differences between them, they centered around the idea of me getting to my feet after allowing the man I was raised to hate to be my first facial, to leave it on my face while he would take and put me into his favorite position, and proceed to fuck me into absolute submission, all the while with me saying his name, calling him by some "larger than life" title, and basically admitting my wrongdoings while I was fucked to orgasm multiple times, which, in your apparent opinion, would then shatter my racism so convincingly that I would be begging you to forgive me. To ALLOW me to serve YOU and to be more than your girl - to be your BITCH. It left me beyond speechless, but I knew that you would be back sometime soon. You were never gone for long unless you were at work, and so I hurried outside to return the notebook.

I'd successfully snuck it back to your table on your back porch, and hurried inside before you could come home, and I spent the weeks afterward unable to get what I read out of my head. It ate me alive. I couldn't concentrate at work or at home, and people were making comments that I seemed spaced out, and I was. I just played it off like I didn't know what they were talking about. At first, I was a mixture of stunned and offended. But eventually the offended feeling went away, replaced by curiosity. And eventually after that, my stunned feeling went away, leaving me with only... curiosity. Before long, that curiosity would manifest itself into something I couldn't resist, because I'd never truly experienced it before - I grew to crave the idea intensely. I didn't even realize that I hadn't created one single conflict with you at all during that time either.

I spent my free time during my days envisioning what it would be like to be looking up at you from my knees on the floor. At night, when I was alone, I found myself actually kneeling in an empty room, imagining you sitting or standing in front of me. I had no idea why I was doing it either. All I knew was that part of me found it hot to be on my knees surrendering to the only black man who ever stood up to me. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. It was eating me alive and had actually driven me to the point of considering knocking on your door at night to see what would happen if I literally approached you, surrendered, and saw where you went with it. Would you really go through with this? I honestly had no idea, but my mentality was telling me that I needed to challenge you on this, and my body was telling me that I was ready to go through with it, should you actually be serious. I was getting in way over my head, but I couldn't see that. All I could see was that you clearly had intense surrender and conversion fantasies for me and I wanted it - bad. It didn't matter that I would realize I was in over my head while it was happening, because there I was, knocking on your back door, at 10:00 one fateful evening.

Standing at your back door, having just knocked, I took a deep breath. At 5'4" and 150 lbs, I was in no way skinny. So my confidence hadn't exactly been running high, given the intention of my visit. But you clearly seemed to not mind it, and so I shut it to the back of my mind. My nerves were running high though, and I halfway hoped you'd chicken out based on the reality of the "opportunity" presented to you, and having no idea what to do with it. Yet there I stood, waiting for you to answer my knock. There was no turning back once you opened that door.



Enemy Neighbors 2
credit: lilwhitegirl34
(my "enemy neighbors 1" plot was inspired by this)
MC's age range: 16-27
(FxM)
Possible kinks:
raceplay, taming racism, conversion, non-con/semi-con/con, spanking, handcuffs, coercion/blackmail, willing verbal submission/surrender, (temporary) marking, collaring

Sample plot intro:

Tori was a 17 year old white girl who had grown up in the same neighborhood that she had lived in today, and was a senior in high school. 17 years of building friendships with the neighbors, as well as learning more and more about them everyday. She'd been raised by overly protective parents, for the most part. They allowed her to say much of what she wanted (within reason), and gave her just about everything she asked for. The end result was a 17 year old girl who came off as down to earth, with episodes of bratty moments, and one hell of an ego. And with that ego came a disdain for other races that her parents had instilled in her, and only grew with her own ignorant opinions.

Most of the neighbors had lived there since she was little, but a few houses had people come and go. Next door was one of those houses. Tori had, for the most part, never once even considered the possibility of a black person moving into the neighborhood, but when it did in fact happen some time ago, a disgust and anger found its way into her system just about every time she was somehow reminded of his presence. Not only that, but her anger and disgust only built off of itself as her family would gossip at the dinner table, talking about the "bullshit" on TV of the removal of the confederate flag, as well as complaining about black people demanding fair treatment on TV. Basically, her resentment wasn't going anywhere but up.

Her friends were similar in a lot of ways, but for the most part, they were far less passionate in their dislike for black people than Tori was. When they would get together and drink in the guest house on the back of the property, they made it a habit of getting Tori fired up about her neighbor, and about black people in general. Once enough alcohol was consumed, they would even throw hypothetical situations back and forth to each other, joking at his expense. Questions like "would you rather go to jail for a year... or be raped by your black neighbor?" or "would you rather have sex with a woman, or with him?" - basically, it was all in fun, but only resulted in the jokes getting more and more serious, eventually becoming less of a joke and more of a consideration. And a fateful night like this was only a matter of time to arrive.

"Hey, Tori... bet your neighbor's stolen from you before..." "Hell, I bet he does it once a fucking week!" - Tori's friends went on and on about the black man next door, in a showing of what their "jokes" had evolved into. "Yeah... remember that ring you lost? I bet he took it!" It went on and on, and while normally, even Tori would be of the mind that her black neighbor couldn't have possibly done anything like that, she had begun to succumb to the antagonism. "You know what...? He probably did..." as she took a big gulp from her beer. "...and that's fucking bullshit..." Shaking her head, as her friends went on, and on still... Jess spoke up: "Tori, he's treating you like a fucking pushover... you're white! Come on! Letting him get away with this shit is ridiculous!" "Okay... and what the hell are you suggesting that I do? I'm not exactly gonna attack the guy... he's fucking huge..." "I never said that...! Eye for an eye! Fucking steal from him! Show him what it feels like!" It was enough to make her think. She paid attention. She knew when her neighbors were home and not, and this particular neighbor was no exception. "Well... he's out with his friends I think tonight, or where ever he goes on this night every freaking week..." "Perfect! Do it!! Go get him back!"

The conversation eventually led to a specific dare: Tori had been convinced to actually go over and break in. Not only that, but she had made the mistake of mentioning that she's learned enough over time to know that he kept his most expensive stuff in the basement... jewelry, fine liquor, the keys to his ridiculous cars... all of it. And once Jess had heard that, it was "the Audi or don't come back!", and Tori took the bait.

Smart enough to realize that when the neighbor left his house out the back door, only to walk around his house, past the front door, and out to his car or down the street, that he likely had left it unlocked out of sheer laze. She'd never tested that theory, but there she was, quietly sneaking over in her pink checked shirt with white top underneath, her jeans on as well... sneaking over, as she finally reached the back door to his house. Her heart racing, she turned the knob... only to see it open. Stunned, Tori froze for a moment. Right now, she could run back, and nothing would come of this. However, the pressure was on to come back with results, and the alcohol was too strong to allow her to be smart about this. Coupled with her entitled upbringing, she snuck inside, determined to take back what she felt was hers... in the assumption that he stole her lost ring in a drunken surety.

Sneaking through, finally finding the doorway to the basement, Tori quickly opened and closed the door behind her, hurrying downstairs. She grew more terrified by the moment, and decided that she would just grab anything and go. That's all she had to do, when it came down to it. But as she roamed the basement, she couldn't find anything small enough to grab that would mean anything. And after a few minutes of searching, there it was: a ring. Not hers, but a ring clearly belonging to a woman. Snatching it quickly, she hurried back to the door, only to discover, to her horror, that it was locked from the outside to begin with. "No... NO!!" She desperately searched for another exit, but there was none. In a teary-eyed panic, Tori desperately struggled with the door, bawling her eyes out as she slowly began to realize that she was plain and simply... fucked.


Captured Cousins
MC's age range: 20-27
(FxFxM)
Possible kinks:

extreme age gaps, raceplay, taming racism, conversion, non-con, light bondage, coercion/blackmail, forced (romantic) incest

Sample plot intro:
"Danielle... you were supposed to turn left back there!"

"Gina! I can't see shit out here!"

"Ugh...! I knew this would be a stupid idea...!"

Gina and I were lost, driving at night down a single-lane dirt road in an area of mostly woods/swamps, and growing more and more frustrated by the second. We'd gone from happily on our way to the nightclubs, but as our GPS steered us into the woods, only to go out shortly afterward, we'd been driving and driving for at least an hour. Our frustrations grew to the point of arguing with each other, and honestly, were only planning on going home at this point, at least once we were able to find the way that is. Things were going badly for us, but things took a turn for the worst as I accidentally drove off the road at a bend, not seeing the turn, and ending up in mud up to the grille of our rental car.

Both of us getting out of the car in time before it could sink to that point, we stood behind the car as we watched our situation go from bad to worse. We were furious, and after a small amount of arguing right there on the road, we were quickly reminded that drawing attention to ourselves might not be a good idea. Who knows what was out here with us, or so we were afraid of. Truthfully, nothing of concern was out there, but the two of us weren't exactly okay with being alone in the dark, in this muddy swamp we were stuck in. At one point while we were arguing, Gina stopped me, pointing to a light about a mile away. "Danielle, look!" Turning around, I look where she was pointing. "Is that... a house??" Gina started walking before I did. "Hey, wait for me!" as I hurried along to walk with her.

The walk wasn't as far as we expected, and we had reached the house in about 15 minutes of walking. We stood out front, looking the place over. Not that it mattered - no matter what, we were knocking. We were really just waiting to see just which one of us would work up the nerve to knock first, and as usual, Gina would be the one who was gutsy enough to do it. But I didn't leave her alone to do it, I kept behind a few feet or so, afraid to knock, but desperate enough to stay close by, just in case. So, as I stood at the bottom of the front steps, watching Gina knock on the door a few times, I stood, and waited for somebody to answer the door.


Sex Slave Sisters/Cousins
credit: redsoxfan569
MC's age range: 20-27
(FxFxM)
Possible kinks:
extreme age gaps, non-con, focus on oral sex, light bondage, coercion/blackmail, forced (romantic) incest

Sample plot intro:
It was supposed to be a fun vacation. Renee and I were sisters, close as could be, stripping down side by side as we locked eyes, tears down our faces for what we knew would be the longest two weeks of our lives. Two weeks that we would make sure were never spoken of again, even if we would never see each other the same way again. We were supposed to be traveling to Las Vegas for a little over two weeks. We had more than enough money to spend, but that wasn't the point. The idea was that we would sightsee, gamble a little bit, go clubbing, and partake in all manner of other things that Las Vegas had to offer. Instead, our plans were cut short rather early on, all because of one gamble we never should have taken.

Where things went south was on our second full day there. Renee and I had just had lunch, and walked to the Monte Carlo to hit the slots for a while. But something had left us just... bored. At least with the slots. So we ended up agreeing on going to the tables to try our luck. Unfortunately, anything we wanted to play that we could also afford to play was totally full. So, we opted to leave and find another place. There were plenty of casinos to choose from, but somehow, we ended up walking off the strip, finding what seemed like a promising place off a little ways into Old Vegas. We walked in only to find slots as far as the eye could see.

We should have turned back right then and there, and Renee wanted to, but I was all for checking the place out. After all, it was only moderately busy. If there were tables, we were sure to have seats at the first one we found. And after about 10 minutes of walking around, I managed to find a hallway with one table at the end, with only three people sitting there. "See Renee? I told you... lets go check it out..." Renee hadn't said a word, only followed me, and once we got to the table, we took our seats. It was blackjack, and we could afford it. The best odds that a casino could offer - we felt pretty safe. And if we were losing, we would leave. That was it.

Time went on, we were winning hand after hand, losing around 1 out of 5 for the most part. Along with the free alcohol that kept streaming to us, we were both feeling heavily buzzed. Enough to skew our judgement, but not enough to consider either of us "drunk". We made sure not to get to that point. We had each walked in with about $500 a piece, and now I'd worked my way up to $1300, and Renee about $1400. We were doing great, actually, but its at that point which things took a fateful turn for the worst.

A man approached the table, introducing himself to us as the owner of the casino. At first, I began to wonder if he thought we were counting cards, but that was quickly cleared up. The man made sure that we had everything that we needed, and assured us that he would keep the wait staff focused on us for anything that we should need. Renee and I were both thankful, and nothing had seemed off, not yet anyways. That all changed about another half hour into blackjack, were we had each climbed to about $1500 each. The owner had approached us again, this time to make a special wager to two very "lucky" girls. In order to properly make the offer, we were to follow him into the office that sat behind the desk across the room. Renee and I looked at each other, and while I could see that she had her reservations about it, she got up when I did, and we both followed him into the office.

We were both sat down, a rather intimidating looking bouncer standing in front of the door. The owner took a seat, smiling. He had this "deal" for us, should we be in agreement with it. He did as best he could to prime us for what was coming, complimenting us on our "beauty" and our "charm", going on about how we were both rare finds in a woman, and so on. To tell the truth, I don't remember everything that he had told us. I just remember that he was a smooth talker who worked his way right under our defenses with compliments. Once Renee and I were both good and weak from his tactics along with the strong buzz we each had going, his tone changed to a quite serious one, as he made the official "offer". If we won, we would end up with some obscene amount of money. I don't even remember how big the number was. It was insane. It was enough for us to be set for life, easy. If we lost? Well, that's another story. If we lost, we were to be this man's personal sex slaves for two whole weeks, with a special focus being placed on having slow, romantic sex with each other as a personal "show" for him. No amount of smooth talking or alcohol was able to let either of us ignore that. At first, I figured that the man was mistaken. I even spoke up about it. "Sir, th-there's clearly some mistake...! Renee and I... w-we're not just friends... we're sisters... and not only that, Renee is a lesbian... you clearly have the wrong girls..." I honestly thought that would render us null and void for this whole "deal", but the man wasn't phased. Instead, he had calmly informed us that he had known all of that from the time we spent at his table, simply by hearing what Renee and I had to say to each other at the table, and my jaw dropped. He KNEW everything I just said, yet STILL made this offer? It was enough to make my jaw hit the floor, and by the looks of it, Renee's as well. Obviously, as sisters, sex with each other was the furthest thing from our minds, but the fact of the matter was that the money figure was so large that neither of us rejected the wager because we were sisters. We rejected it because we were positive that the deal would be off should you learn the truth. Now that we knew it was already known when the offer was made, Renee and I looked at each other in a way we'd never done so before. "C-can you give us a moment?" as I pulled Renee off by her arm to the corner of the room. We didn't talk for long - we were back at the table in less than two full minutes. "W-we... accept... your wager..." It was never really a question once we knew that the man had known the truth. My own little sister and I had seriously just agreed to a wager that could possibly put us up to having sex with each other, all for the perverted man who made the offer. Wearing a huge smile, the man slid over a set of papers, three to be exact, highlighting the deal, which would make it a binding agreement. Humiliated by what we had just done, Renee and I still signed each page, and then, the real pressure was on. There was so much more at stake this time. All we had to do was win three out of the next five hands. Best of five - and we were set... for life and beyond.

My heart raced as we sat back at the table, the owner overseeing it all. My confidence had taken a massive blow once we lost the first of five hands. Sure, we had four left, but we had to win three of those four. And then, we lost the second hand. Our faces had flushed pale white, our smiles gone, grave concern in their place instead. Then, we'd won the third hand. We could finally breathe a sigh of relief, until the fourth hand, where we once again lost. That was it, it was over. Renee and I had gone still, staring at the table with wide eyes. How could this happen? We were doing so well... we just... how?! I thought to myself. Renee's expression was of sheer panic. "S-Sam... I... I think I'm gonna be sick...!" But regardless of our reactions, the man who had made the deal with us had put one hand on each of our backs, guiding us away from the table. Our money was still ours, but that didn't matter, not now. All that mattered was the quiet instruction that he gave us in the corner - "The suite, here are the keys. Go get cleaned up, I'll be up shortly after the hour for... well lets just say a lovely blowjob from two lovely looking ladies..." and left us in the corner. Renee and I had both scanned the room with our eyes, but seeing the set of bouncers who were clearly there for this very reason, we knew it was a lost cause. We were done for. And once we got to this suite, that would seal the deal.

Which all finally brings us to where this story started: Renee and I, standing side by side, stripping down without a word to each other, and waiting for the man to arrive who would put us through the most humiliating act that we've ever been through, over the course of the two longest weeks of our lives.​
 
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