ImperatorArcos
Going through the motions.
- Joined
- Nov 23, 2019
- Location
- Florida, USA
The Wolf's Lair!
You can call me Luke, and I'm a male located in the EST timezone that enjoys role-playing smutty, erotic fantasy scenes and have been writing for a few years before finding this site.
Genres: Fantasy, medieval, modern
Fandoms: Game of Thrones, Witcher, etc. but I usually prefer OC.
Roleplaying Preferences: Third person, past tense, Discord is highly preferred, though PMs may work.
F-list - Warning; Work in progress
Queen. Elven whore. Bitch. Slut.
The Elf Queen of Illyiath had been called countless derogatory names throughout her millennial rule over her kingdom, but none of it could phase her. The words had come from Elven lords, men, Dwarven kings, and more that had all failed to bed her properly and have their seed fertilize her highly desired womb, costing them everything the following morning as she conquered them herself. To have an opportunity to claim her womb, the cost came at the suitor's life, freedom, or manhood, becoming her personal eunuch porters, serving her in disgrace for their failure to pleasure and fulfill her needs. She was cruel in that regard, but was unrivaled by all the women in the lands and deserved better than what they had provided her.
She was a Queen with fair light skin, platinum blonde hair, curves in all the right places, with an overall body rivaling that of a Fertility Goddess. A Queen with a robust bust, perfect child bearing hips, luscious thighs, and eyes to lure you into her clutches or your demise. Boasting a smirk and eyes that stir the depths of any men, yet a rare smile that could lift the hearts of her people a thousand times over. She was the Queen of a people imbued with magic, power, and strength that had unfortunately been at war with countless enemies to survive, but still the elvish people thrived in the forests and woods in which they resided. Her bed had been filled with countless males that had all failed in their promises to give her a night worth remembering and providing her with virile seed to sate her uncontrollable lust, impregnate her, and meet her body's carnal needs that had not been met in centuries. Being so proficiently imbued and intertwined with magic, she was capable of knowing whether or not she had found **the one** yet or not. She was skilled in the fine, intricate arts of high magic, lethal with a blade, and none more precise than her with a bow. Gifted with foresight and able to glimpse into the future, often she knew in advance whether or not a male would be viable and have any at filling her womb, but that was a secret well-guarded between her and her high ladies that tended to her. No good could come if her secret was well-known to men beforehand, as it was a powerful way to rid herself of any unworthy foes.
Was it too much to ask to find a man that'd pound her into a new life, binding her life to his own as he unleashed his virile seed into her depths? To find a man so hung and thick that'd she would eagerly spread her legs apart at the mere sight of him, or perhaps turn around have her pummel her luscious rear that'd yet to be touched by any man? All she wanted was for the man who'd make her instinctively wrap her legs around and embrace as he would pump waves of his virile seed inside, to fertilize her precious eggs, one after another, as he endlessly knocked her up. Happily she'd wrap her lips around his shaft and pump him dry any chance she could get, or have him lie back as she'd mount him for hours after a long day. She would fight him for sexual control in their bed, wanting him to lay back as she rode him harder than any man could bare as he emptied himself of his seed nightly. But, apparently it was too much to ask for the past thousand years.
However, when her most powerful enemy offered to end the war between them in exchange for her hand in marriage, she felt a stirring and longing that could not be ignored. Her foresight believed this would be the one whom she had waited all her life for, the male that’d bring her meaning and purpose in life, and yield her a full womb for the ages to come. For the sake of her people, she publicly decided to accept the terms of ending the war, hoping he was the one she'd submit and rule alongside, because he was no ordinary man. That man was the latest Lord Alpha, the King of Werewolves, a hardened warrior with whom she had been at war with for countless years that was searching for his own queen and had chosen her to bond with, allowing both of their kingdoms to grow in more ways than one.
At worst, if the accords were signed and he proved incompetent, she would either slay him the following morning and rid herself of their primary foe, bringing peace to her people or castrated to become another eunuch porter in her employ. At best, however, she’d have brought peace and be royally fucked and mounted like a queen deserved. She would be mating with the most powerful man in the land, ravishing each other as they saw fit, and produce the finest heirs their kingdoms needed.
Rumor had it that he had gone through hundreds of women to find a mate, to find a woman that could handle him in bed and keep him interested longer than a few hours. Word had spread he appeared exclusively to the women in his ranks, on the night of a woman’s first bleed during her twentieth year, claiming her for a few years to test compatibility before leaving once done, earning her loyalty forever, though he may have ruined other men for her. Though it hadn’t been confirmed to the queen whether it was true or not, it was intriguing enough to ride to meet him, to test him and bed him at least once, to see if he was the key to unlock the treasures and pleasures of her body.
And so the story takes place with both royalties marching to meet one another, their armies at their backs protecting them in the meantime until the Queen is united with her King.
The Elf Queen of Illyiath had been called countless derogatory names throughout her millennial rule over her kingdom, but none of it could phase her. The words had come from Elven lords, men, Dwarven kings, and more that had all failed to bed her properly and have their seed fertilize her highly desired womb, costing them everything the following morning as she conquered them herself. To have an opportunity to claim her womb, the cost came at the suitor's life, freedom, or manhood, becoming her personal eunuch porters, serving her in disgrace for their failure to pleasure and fulfill her needs. She was cruel in that regard, but was unrivaled by all the women in the lands and deserved better than what they had provided her.
She was a Queen with fair light skin, platinum blonde hair, curves in all the right places, with an overall body rivaling that of a Fertility Goddess. A Queen with a robust bust, perfect child bearing hips, luscious thighs, and eyes to lure you into her clutches or your demise. Boasting a smirk and eyes that stir the depths of any men, yet a rare smile that could lift the hearts of her people a thousand times over. She was the Queen of a people imbued with magic, power, and strength that had unfortunately been at war with countless enemies to survive, but still the elvish people thrived in the forests and woods in which they resided. Her bed had been filled with countless males that had all failed in their promises to give her a night worth remembering and providing her with virile seed to sate her uncontrollable lust, impregnate her, and meet her body's carnal needs that had not been met in centuries. Being so proficiently imbued and intertwined with magic, she was capable of knowing whether or not she had found **the one** yet or not. She was skilled in the fine, intricate arts of high magic, lethal with a blade, and none more precise than her with a bow. Gifted with foresight and able to glimpse into the future, often she knew in advance whether or not a male would be viable and have any at filling her womb, but that was a secret well-guarded between her and her high ladies that tended to her. No good could come if her secret was well-known to men beforehand, as it was a powerful way to rid herself of any unworthy foes.
Was it too much to ask to find a man that'd pound her into a new life, binding her life to his own as he unleashed his virile seed into her depths? To find a man so hung and thick that'd she would eagerly spread her legs apart at the mere sight of him, or perhaps turn around have her pummel her luscious rear that'd yet to be touched by any man? All she wanted was for the man who'd make her instinctively wrap her legs around and embrace as he would pump waves of his virile seed inside, to fertilize her precious eggs, one after another, as he endlessly knocked her up. Happily she'd wrap her lips around his shaft and pump him dry any chance she could get, or have him lie back as she'd mount him for hours after a long day. She would fight him for sexual control in their bed, wanting him to lay back as she rode him harder than any man could bare as he emptied himself of his seed nightly. But, apparently it was too much to ask for the past thousand years.
However, when her most powerful enemy offered to end the war between them in exchange for her hand in marriage, she felt a stirring and longing that could not be ignored. Her foresight believed this would be the one whom she had waited all her life for, the male that’d bring her meaning and purpose in life, and yield her a full womb for the ages to come. For the sake of her people, she publicly decided to accept the terms of ending the war, hoping he was the one she'd submit and rule alongside, because he was no ordinary man. That man was the latest Lord Alpha, the King of Werewolves, a hardened warrior with whom she had been at war with for countless years that was searching for his own queen and had chosen her to bond with, allowing both of their kingdoms to grow in more ways than one.
At worst, if the accords were signed and he proved incompetent, she would either slay him the following morning and rid herself of their primary foe, bringing peace to her people or castrated to become another eunuch porter in her employ. At best, however, she’d have brought peace and be royally fucked and mounted like a queen deserved. She would be mating with the most powerful man in the land, ravishing each other as they saw fit, and produce the finest heirs their kingdoms needed.
Rumor had it that he had gone through hundreds of women to find a mate, to find a woman that could handle him in bed and keep him interested longer than a few hours. Word had spread he appeared exclusively to the women in his ranks, on the night of a woman’s first bleed during her twentieth year, claiming her for a few years to test compatibility before leaving once done, earning her loyalty forever, though he may have ruined other men for her. Though it hadn’t been confirmed to the queen whether it was true or not, it was intriguing enough to ride to meet him, to test him and bed him at least once, to see if he was the key to unlock the treasures and pleasures of her body.
And so the story takes place with both royalties marching to meet one another, their armies at their backs protecting them in the meantime until the Queen is united with her King.
Daenerys Targaryen was a proud woman, one who was destined to sit on the Iron Throne as the rightful ruler and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. Khal Drogo had come and gone, same as Daario, but Jon Snow was the current man in her life, though she hoped he'd be the only one as well now. Ever since their night on the boat, they both eagerly sought each other, fucking as if their lives depended on it and each moment would be their last.
She hadn't been prepared when he talked of his desire to breed her, the mere idea scaring her at first, however her body seemed to know it was the right thing to do. Daenerys couldn't help but give in, and slowly the proud Mother of Dragons was finding herself as the *Direwolf's bitch*, her body begging her lover to use and fill her womb endlessly that they might have a family soon, before the Battle for Winterfell starts and before they together march for the Iron Throne.
She hadn't been prepared when he talked of his desire to breed her, the mere idea scaring her at first, however her body seemed to know it was the right thing to do. Daenerys couldn't help but give in, and slowly the proud Mother of Dragons was finding herself as the *Direwolf's bitch*, her body begging her lover to use and fill her womb endlessly that they might have a family soon, before the Battle for Winterfell starts and before they together march for the Iron Throne.
Sansa Stark had felt she might never get the chance to tell Jon how she really felt, and his return with Daenerys didn't help her. There had been growing tension between them throughout the years, but neither of them dared to act on it. What could they have done, especially before the Battle for Winterfell?
When they had initially reunited, Sansa knew she belonged to him, in heart and body. She should be the one bent over whenever he pleased as he pounded her endlessly, filling her eager cunt and womb with his virile seed so the Stark line could remain strong and continue. She couldn't offer her virginity to him, but at least she could give him as many heirs he saw fit. Sansa would eagerly ride him in return, going past her point of exhaustion, do whatever it took, as long as he'd breed her as his mate, and that's exactly what she'd do, now that they had won and prepared for the final war.
She fantasied of how much better Jon would be than Ramsay. How large was he? How much deeper could he reach, or make her scream in delight as he ravished her? How sore might she be each time, and how full of his seed? Jon may have been a bastard Stark, but he was the Alpha Direwolf she needed in her life, the one she'd happily be a breeding bitch for. And so she lay in wait, naked and perfumed in the very bed the Lord Eddard and the Lady Catelyn had consummated time and time, now for Jon Snow and Sansa Stark to consummate and breed.
“My lord, your presence has been sorely missed among the pack. If it pleases you, shall we strengthen it, together?” She asks softly when the door opens and her King in the North arrived in the chambers, watching his hands begin to undress himself as he made his way over, preparing to rut and continue the Stark lineage.
When they had initially reunited, Sansa knew she belonged to him, in heart and body. She should be the one bent over whenever he pleased as he pounded her endlessly, filling her eager cunt and womb with his virile seed so the Stark line could remain strong and continue. She couldn't offer her virginity to him, but at least she could give him as many heirs he saw fit. Sansa would eagerly ride him in return, going past her point of exhaustion, do whatever it took, as long as he'd breed her as his mate, and that's exactly what she'd do, now that they had won and prepared for the final war.
She fantasied of how much better Jon would be than Ramsay. How large was he? How much deeper could he reach, or make her scream in delight as he ravished her? How sore might she be each time, and how full of his seed? Jon may have been a bastard Stark, but he was the Alpha Direwolf she needed in her life, the one she'd happily be a breeding bitch for. And so she lay in wait, naked and perfumed in the very bed the Lord Eddard and the Lady Catelyn had consummated time and time, now for Jon Snow and Sansa Stark to consummate and breed.
“My lord, your presence has been sorely missed among the pack. If it pleases you, shall we strengthen it, together?” She asks softly when the door opens and her King in the North arrived in the chambers, watching his hands begin to undress himself as he made his way over, preparing to rut and continue the Stark lineage.
- Daughter of Opposing Werewolf Alpha x Werewolf Alpha (modern day arranged union setting)
- Omegaverse: Modern day Alpha x Omega
Have an idea you'd like someone to play and figure you want to ask? Feel free to do so!
- Sarah Rafferty
- Emily Bett Rickards
- Bridget Reagan
- Others YOU come up with and find!
Thanks for reading my prompts and I hope you liked it enough to send a reply! If you'd like to make some changes, feel free to ask and see if it'd work! I'd prefer if we can become friends over the course of this and get to talk OOC with my partners!
Interested?
Add me on Discord at firelegend240#7242
- Send me your thoughts/questions/additions/modifications to a plot.
- Send me your kinks/limits.
- Let's work something out!
Hope to hear from you!
Last edited:
