Mx Female Occam's Curious Quest For The Fabled Female Unicorn.

[Occam's Razor]

Hey all, it's Occam here!
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Post 1: About me and general information, kinks etc
Post 2: Plots
Post 3: Writing samples

About Me:
I'm a male, who plays mostly dominant characters, always on the search for fun partners. To save wasting both our time before you read any further, please note that when I say I play dominant characters, that relates to them possessing a dominant persona, and should not be perceived as a label. It also does not mean I'm looking to write opposite submissive female characters; I'm not.

My intellectual and carnal interest, which extends to my preferences for fictional characters, is garnered by independent women who possess a desire for autonomy, an inclination to act of their own volition and are sexual beings in their own right. If my character is to dominate - in any context over and above a naturally existing propensity to take-charge in the bedroom -, I'll only partake in scenes that require the wresting of control from those who'd prefer not to give it up and which involve forced/unwilling short-term situational submission and domination.

I won't entertain any request for long-term or willing D/s, M/s etc scenarios as those ongoing relationship and static sexual dynamics bore me to tears. Additionally, I have no interest in scenarios in which the male is drawn to a woman for no other reason than she's female and breathing, creatively one-sided premises centred entirely around his motives and agenda for the female character, and/or opposite women who bring no plot-driving motivations, intent, purpose and agency - sexual and otherwise - of their own to the scene. If she's incapable of switching it up and leading the dance - both inside and outside the bedroom - in (relatively) equal proportion to the male/s, she has absolutely nothing of interest to offer me.

Now the above is out the way - which I felt only fair to state upfront - a little more about my preferences and what I am looking for. xD!

What I am Looking For:
Although I possess a slight leaning towards psychologically dark themes and characters, I do also enjoy romance and lighter themes. I just find it harder to come up with plots for those (possibly because of less obvious sources of conflict) and have found that's led to me sometimes being pigeonholed as a writer of dark stories only. Please be assured this is not the case and don't be afraid to approach me if you are looking for something lighter.

My characters can range from brutal rapists and sadistic serial-killers without empathy or remorse to flirtatious small-time thieves, cocky charlatans, manipulative porn producers, or playful familial rivals as the Three 'Bears' in a re-telling of Goldilocks and many points in-between.

I'm here to write a variety of personalities and themes, from the darkest imaginable to the light and fluffy or sugary-sweet romance, generally preferring modern settings but potentially open to others such as historical or light fantasy as long as any concentration on that aspect of the plot doesn't detract from the importance of character development and dynamics. The latter being, in any story, where my main interest lies.

Whilst I am looking for erotic stories centred around a sexual dynamic(s)/premise(s), that is not synonymous with wanting them to be 'smut-driven'. In that regard, the majority of my stories tend to be around a 70/80-30/20 story-to-sex ratio as I find scenes that contain little but copious amounts of 'he thrusts/she moans' sex, lack depth, and swiftly become tedious to both read and write. It's the character interaction, buildup, foreplay, tension, and psychology of a sexual scenario that interests me as much, if not more, than the physical act. An intrinsically sexual, character-driven plot with smut rather than a lot of smut with minimal plot. I also like my stories with spice so a little (or a lot) of kink and/or taboo adds to the fun.

As for specific plots, although I do have a few below, I'm fine if none of those are your particular cup of tea as many of my most successful long-term collaborations have come about with those who weren't interested in any of my plots, or me in theirs, to begin with, but where our overall preferences matched and we thought we could still mesh as writing partners! Therefore, I prioritise finding those potentially compatible partners with whom I can, in collaboration, develop something unique - or rework a basic concept tailored to our individual tastes - over deciding upfront on any set plot. My plotting creativity also kicks up a few gears when I have someone to bounce off.

On Posting:
My posts are generally in the 400 - 800 words range and I write on threads only - no IM/PM/Conversations/Email, sorry - preferring slower paced replies from both sides, with a substantive response around once a week and no concerns if it's less often than that. As long as OoC communication is maintained, I'm good with extremely relaxed posting rates. To commit myself to any more than once a week places too much stress on my poor little brain due to my curious thought process and the length of time it can take me to translate the jumbled jigsaw-puzzle pieces in my head into logically constructed words on the screen, working full-time, and my time zone likely being much different from most others.

The same in regards to receiving rapid-fire replies as I'll then place pressure on myself to meet that pace in return, and due to that reason am possibly one of the very few people who's unfortunately had to drop stories for replies coming too fast. Long-term over short term.

OOC Communication:
I keep my 'real-life' and my roleplay life separate, however OoC banter and causally getting to know my partner is a must. Roleplaying is a collaborative endeavour and I spend a lot of time and creative/mental energy on each post. I'd prefer to expend that energy on those I feel a sense of camaraderie and shared enthusiasm for the story with over those I don't and struggle to stay invested in any collaboration where it's not present. I never have and never will drop a roleplay without first discussing it with my partner and have very rarely had it happen to me. That rapport built through good communication is one of the reasons for that.

On a related communication note, I'd appreciate if some effort is put into any approach. I don't like to be rude but I do like to be honest so I will mention that I'm unlikely to reply to simple one or two line 'I'm interested' type messages that leave me with nothing to work with and respond to.

Kinks and Anti-kinks

See more

In regards to acts/kinks I won't include a lot of detail or expand on the why's and wherefore of specific ones. As with most everything else with me, it's the context an act takes place in that makes something enjoyable for me to write rather than a specific acts in and of themselves, and I'm open to many and varied. Although I will say, my characters do have a particular penchant for digital and oral, on both sides.

For more detailed information, please refer to my F-List, and presume that anything not in the same vein as any of my hard no's is negotiable. Even some of those may be negotiable as well depending on if they're appropriate to the story.

What I'm into:

*Intelligent and independent-minded females; my biggest kink, by far
*Good dialogue, banter, humour, a battle of wits
*Provocation/Power plays
*Sexually confident women. Confident women in general
*Dangerous and/or taboo situations
*Public Sex
*Ménage à trois/Threesomes, MMF or MFF
*Exhibitionism
*Infidelity
* Taboo pairings
*Consensual
*Rough Sex
*Force/manipulation (psychological/verbal)
*Force/Hard Rape - no compassion, no remorse.
* BDSM - Just because I have no interest in Dom/sub doesn't mean I have no interest in BDSM practices, but I will quickly become bored if this is the only sexual component to a story
*Age differences
*Teasing
*Foreplay/Buildup/Sexual tension
*Multiple partners/gangbangs (forced or mutual)
*Seduction

What I'm not into:

*Tentacles and Non-humanoid
*Typical 'Master/Slave' and/or 'Dom/Sub' pairings - way too cliché and overdone. I was bored of them before Shades of Grey was released
* Naive/innocent/blushing virgin type female characters
* Solely sexually submissive female characters
*Rape scenarios where she 'ends up loving it'. I find these unrealistic, and as mentioned previously, if I am going to write a rape scenario, I will only write those which do the full horror of the heinous act it is in real-life, justice.
*Beastiality
*Scat
*Impregnation/Pregnancy
*Vore
*Willing subservience / submissiveness/deference

 

[Occam's Razor]

Plots

Light Plots

The Proposition

Just completed this story. Not looking to rewrite it at the moment
She's an eighteen year high-school senior, near graduation and looking forward to moving to a new state to attend college after the Holiday's, and beginning her quest for independence. Attractive, but not stunningly gorgeous, neither a virgin or a slut, she's your typical, studious, girl-next door. He's an elder man, around thirty or so and handsome enough, who approaches her outside the school gates with a proposition.

One night, $5,000 an hour, and all she needs do is to entertain he and some high-flying business colleagues for the evening at his mansion. A chance to let her hair down; in total confidence, without judgement; and experience something many women fantasise about. It will be her secret to keep forever and she's free to leave at any time with the money earned, however, a further $100,000 will be paid if she stays until morning. Enough to ensure she'll be able to be concentrate on her studies and enjoy College life without the need to work.

A once in a lifetime offer, and it's only one night.

Infidelity

A young novelist, wealthy beyond his apparently limited success, receives a call from an old friend, who he hasn't spoken to since College. Upon hearing he and the man's girlfriend plan to travel to his city for a month as she attends job/college interviews, he offers them a bed, unaware of the others true intent.

Consumed with old grudges and long-contained jealousy and believing the novelists success had come off the back of his ideas after uncovering the truth behind his wealth, the man intends to demand his fair share. Simultaneously, he can show of his new trophy; the one thing, beautiful and perfect, he had that his old buddy, always more successful with the ladies and in life could never claim as his.

Or, is that true, because what will happen when she discovers that her boyfriend's old college dorm-mate, under a pseudonym, is the responsible for a series of bestselling erotic novels that speak to every sexual fantasy she'd ever possessed?

Wanting someone flexible in their kinks/sexual dynamics as I'd like it to incorporate a little of everything and a lot of variety, in that context. Too many options to list here, but happy to discuss further if anyone's interested in the above concept.

The Road To Fame

Set in the 1960's, an intentionally cliche-ridden, fun romp about the (mis)adventures of a small-time thief on the run from the Law in his home state and a down-on-her-luck Nightclub singer intent on making her fame and fortune in Vegas who, using his experience and her 'assets' to their advantage, team up and embark on a petty-crime spree throughout the Western United States.

Dark Plots

Hypothetical

A base idea that's been in my head for a while that I'd like some help to flesh out.

My character, out of pure mischief, decides that he requires psychological treatment to help resolve his anger issues. Very selective about who he'd bare his soul to, she'd need to be female and attractive. Not one to easily trust, he doesn't intend to reveal all immediately or admit to the series of brutal rapes that's garnered all the media attention even if she is bound by patient confidentiality, but to keep it all hypothetical. And if the Doctor happens to become aroused by what he hypothetically could have done to these women that's her problem.

So, is he telling the truth or lying? To get into his mind and discover that answer in order to be able to help, she'll need have him explain everything in exquisite detail and perhaps perform physical demonstrations. All in the name of medicine, of course. Just how was the victim kneeling and were her hands tied behind her back or in front, and with what? Was she screaming, crying or begging when he raped her? Is that position even possible?

I imagine this as a game of intellectual cat-and-mouse with their exchanges remaining couched in hypothetical terms for quite a while and incorporating a lot of buildup and wordplay as the talk/actions become incrementally more intense. However, it requires more than just counselling sessions and interaction between Doctor and Client so am looking to add another over-arching plot element.

Does she become a partner in his crimes, enjoying watching him rape other women? Is she married with a boring sex-life and her relationship with her husband change as her demands for him to become increasingly sexually rougher and more violent grow stronger? Does she step outside the relationship, putting herself in dangerous situations, and risking her marriage, career and reputation to sate her new desires? A combination of all or something else entirely? Is he a rapist at all or just a deluded, but ultimately harmless fantasist?

The Betrayal

He’d managed to conceal it his entire life, to hide it from those who would try to change or 'help' him. Sure, some had their suspicions, but it was nothing they could put their finger on, nothing which could be proven – he'd never allow that to happen.

Some knew more than others, of course; the ones he'd hurt before and a couple of his friends. Friends? Maybe acolytes was a better word, 'friends' implied that he was capable of caring for someone other than himself. It wasn't like they'd tell anyone though, the acolytes reaped the benefits, and the others? Well, they'd seen what he was capable of.

Still even then, they didn’t really know, not the whole truth. That underneath the charming, intelligent and friendly exterior there lay a true sociopath totally incapable of remorse or empathy; one whose sole pleasure in life came from the pain of others, who could only feel true emotion through their suffering.

From the moment he saw her, he knew. She was just another victim, another toy to play with. He’d charm, befriend, manipulate and isolate her until, in the end, he was the only one she could depend upon, the only one she could trust. In return, he'd be the only one who cared for her and once she trusted him completely, he'd betray her.

They had yet to speak, but he knew how it would be, it would be as it was before. He closed his eyes and the images ran through his mind, as if watching a silent movie. He could see the look of pain and disbelief on her face; the dawning realisation that this is what he'd always wanted. Although there was no sound, he knew through her wide open mouth she would be screaming and begging for him to make it stop, pleading for it not to be true.

And he'd watch, and he'd laugh and he'd mock as his friends systematically used and violated her and her mind and body were broken, but most of all he would feel. Her emotions and her pain would be his emotions, his pain, and for that fleeting moment in time at least he'd be able to feel something.

Looking for a particular dynamic in this, in that not a female 'victim' type, but a normal, girl-next-door, and for the relationship to include consensual sex/kink initiated by either/both parties as subtle manipulation occurs behind her back, leading to a brutal, non-consensual coup de grâce.

Jack-The-Ripper

One rather messed-up idea I have is for a Victorian England, Jack-the-Ripper mixed with a dash of Frankenstein and Dr Jekkyl and Mr Hyde dark romance serial killer slasher theme. I've the basic (fucked-up!) premise for sitting in my head, but need someone to help me flesh it out along with them keen on going to dark - both emotionally and in a graphic sex-and violence sense - lengths with it.

That is, Jack being motivated by never having recovered from the trauma of being responsible for the accidental death of his first love, and believing he can bring her back to life if only he can find all the right parts. Paired opposite a married/taken woman of status obsessed with the news of his depraved deeds; needing to maintain the facade of a normal existence as she searches him out and becomes ever more consumed by the dark.

Unholy Conspiracy

In a Christian safe-house for women eighteen and up, residents are being systematically abused by those they've been raised to believe of as 'Men of God', whose words cannot be questioned and where, contained in those words, the threat of Hell is ever-present.

These safe-houses, dotted around the country, are condoned, even encouraged, at the higher levels of the church hierarchy. After all, if it's going to happen, best it happen to the 'dregs of society' rather than 'respectable' parishioners, whose claims of clerical abuse are more likely to be believed and attract media attention. They've already had enough of that.

Pimped out, sold off, raped, abused, degraded, forced into pornography and exchanged for political favours, the residents are trapped with nowhere to run and no-one to trust; they don't dare. Except for one. Can she, in collusion with an Investigative journalist, bring the unholy mess to an end or will those in power discover the treachery and like others before them, the duo simply be made to vanish into thin air?

Asking For It

Asking For It - I haven't read the novel - yet - but the premise of Asking For It by Lilah Pace intriques me. Would be interesting in finding a partner to work up something along similiar lines.

What I'm looking for in this story is the character dynamic with a concentration on the negotiation of their limits and the agreement. Plus a focus on the guilt/regrets both have in regards to their specific kinks, the psychology behind them and how they deal with that in the context of what appears to outsides to be seemingly 'normal' relationship particularly as they develop more romantic feelings towards each other.

Obsession - (Taken. Writing on E)

He frequented the clubs, not because of the women, well girls really, dancing naked on the stage. He did it because since Amy died and his wife had left there wasn't really much else. At least it took his mind off things for a while. That and his job, it helped keep the anger at bay.

From the moment he saw her, he couldn't get her out of his mind. Not in a lustful way or not that he recognised as such. It was her looks, her smile, her youth, how she reminded him of his daughter. He had the money, he might be able to help her. To help her leave that dirty business, to find something else, to maybe even to go to College.

She was young and she stripped for a living. It was as simple as that. She got naked for strange men and she loved it. She loved the attention, the admiring glances, the money, the fact that all those men wanted to touch her. To have her. Who would want to work their ass off eight hours a day at minimum wage when they could do this?

All he wants to do is help; to offer her the future his daughter never had.

All she wants is what's in his wallet, and will use any means at her disposal to get at it.

As he twigs to her lies and manipulations, kindness turns to hatred and lustful obsession.

There'll be no happy ending.

This is the darker version of 'The Businessman and the Stripper Plot' below, which I've previously played out to completion in a lighter vein and I've further ideas on how it could take some very dark turns. including a few tweaks to incorporate strong thematic incestuous elements, depending on preferences, but that latter is in no way a must.

Internet Killers

He was a thirty-something security consultant, highly intelligent and respected by his peers. She was a twenty-something college student, bright and attractive, your typical girl next door. He was a closet psychopath. She had a dangerous kink. He fantasised about raping, torturing and killing young women. She got off to seeing others in pain. They met in an underground chat-room. She issued him a challenge. Did he have the balls, or was he all talk? That was how the partnership began.

I'm in the mood to unleash my dark side and write something violent, misogynistic, and depraved. Whilst I expect the interactions between the two main characters to at times be mentally and physically violent, both sexually and non-sexually, I am looking for a fellow protagonist and equal agent of darkness, not a 'Villain/Victim' relationship. Not for the squeamish, I envisage this being a Richard Laymon-esque serial killer/slasher movie parody along the lines of 'Natural Born Killers', on steroids, but with more character development/plot and quite an amount of dark humour. Depraved, but fun, and light-hearted at times. Many kinks and acts of perversion are on the table in service of the story, depending on limits. I've a lot of ideas of where it could go, and how it could work, and am open to suggestions.

Adam and Eve - (Taken/On Hiatus)

Psychologically damaged by physical and emotional abuse received as children adopted brother and sister, Adam and Eve, had only each other to depend upon when they escaped the home of their bible-thumping, evangelic Foster Parents. A few years later, closer than ever, and with both working menial jobs in a different state, the old voices and visions come flooding back when on the television news they see their Step-Father, his City's long-term Police Chief, nominated as preferred Senatorial Candidate for that State's Republican Party.

Frightened that a position of such status and importance will provide him the means to bring about the much talked of Armageddon, sending them to burn in the depths of Hell for all eternity, they need to take action to avoid his world-ending wrath, but how can the duo be expected to be able to face down one who is virtually Omnipotent? Only by thinning out his blue-uniformed protective Army first, with the added benefit of pissing him off in the process, do they even stand a chance.

But, how many will be enough and who is stalking them as the cop-killings grow ever more frequent. Friend, or foe?

Light or Dark Plots

Curiosity Tempted The Cat

Would like to do a coercion/blackmail roleplay where a female 'victim' is complicit in her own corruption. Basic concept that comes to mind is a daughter/wife of a well-known businessman bored with her safe life or disciplinarian upbringing escapes for an evening of excitement. Leading to her, of her own volition, hooking up with the 'wrong guy'; a drug dealer/criminal or the like, who on discovering her identity sets out to extort her for sexual favours and possibly as a drug-runner. The point of difference being rather than a hatred of the situation, the female character would be aroused by it with any 'resistance' not real but used as self-justification for her to enter (and pro-actively place herself) into increasingly depraved and dangerous situations. Thinking the scenario would jump between that relationship and the one with her Father/Husband, where she'd need to maintain her 'good-girl' persona and keep her secret life hidden.

The Businessman and the Stripper

He frequented the clubs, not because of the women, well girls really, dancing naked on the stage. He did it because since Amy died and his wife had left there wasn't really much else. At least it took his mind of things for a while. That and his job, it helped keep the anger at bay.

From the moment he saw her, he couldn't get her out of his mind. Not in a lustful way or not that he recognised as such. It was her looks, her smile, her youth, how she reminded him of his daughter. He had the money, he might be able to help her. To help her leave that dirty business, to find something else, to maybe even to go to College.

She was young and she stripped for a living. It was as simple as that. She got naked for strange men and she loved it. She loved the attention, the admiring glances, the money, the fact that all those men wanted to touch her..to have her. Who would want to work their ass off eight hours a day at minimum wage when they could do this?

All he wants to do is help her, all she wants is what's in his wallet. Who'll win this little game of manipulation. And what will become of the loser?

The Girl-Next-Door

“Models (female), 18-19, required for catalogue, website and private photo shoots. Great hourly rate and flexible conditions with a reputable company. Afternoons, weekends or evening work available. Perfect opportunity for college students, all welcome to apply. No nudity required. Contact Connor on ..............."

That was the advertisement thirty-three-year-old Connor Adams had placed in local newspapers and on the college community boards a week ago and as far as he was concerned it spoke the truth. His company, Girl Next Door Productions, was reputable - within the pornography industry - and nudity wasn’t a requirement. Not, that was, unless you wanted regular work and the ability to earn ten times as much as you could flipping burgers in a fast-food joint. A small fish in a big pond, Connor planned to become a shark.

The films the larger porn production company's made and the girls they used - pretend 'teenagers' with bleached blonde hair, pierced lips, noses and eyebrows, tramp-stamps and the most incredibly fake orgasms he'd ever witnessed -. were all too similar and no longer offered the public anything they hadn't seen a thousand times before, so he'd come up with a new idea. The girl-next-door. A barely legal, articulate and personable young woman with a bright future ahead; one who Father's would be proud to claim as a daughter and Mother's to think of as a son's future bride.

And once he found that Girl-Next-Door, he'd take those Mothers and Fathers along with brothers, sisters, friends, lovers and peers on an ever-intensifying journey; able to watch every minute of the once normal teenage girl's life as she was transformed into an Internet sensation, and filthy, depraved, insatiable, cock-craving whore. There, but for the grace of God, goes my daughter. It was a sure-fire winner.

If, deep down, she desired what he offered so much the better. Now he just had to find her.

Note: This scenario is incorporated as a plot element in my 'The Heiress and the Hacker' story, but with that currently on hiatus, I'd be tentatively open to writing this with another partner if we could find the right dynamic.

The Reincarnation of Peter Proud

Supernatural isn't usually my forte, but this was a book I pinched off my parents and read when I was about thirteen and for some reason, it's always stuck with me.

From Amazon:

"Dr. Peter Proud’s ordinary life as a professor in California is threatened by recurrent dreams that all end the same: with his murder in a lake at night by a mysterious woman named Marcia. These dreams—which he comes to believe may be flashbacks from a previous life—become so disturbing that he seeks answers from a sleep researcher, a clairvoyant, and an expert in psychic phenomena in order to recover his past. But he soon discovers a new dimension to his dilemma while watching a television show called “America, Past and Present”—and realizes the show is set in the town in his dreams.

He travels to Springfield, Massachusetts, and comes face to face with the woman from his nightmares. The woman, Marcia Curtis, is shocked to see in Peter personality traits and characteristics that precisely recall those of her dead husband, Jeff, including his voice. Peter meets and falls in love with Marcia’s daughter, Ann, just as Marcia realizes that he is a reincarnation of Jeff. Will a second tragedy occur just as Peter is about to unravel the mystery behind his dreams?"

Though, probably not the same precise storyline as the novel, I think the premise could make for an interesting collaboration.

The Tease

She was known as the Tease, but that's what he always called a woman who refused to sleep with him, however, in this case, he was right. She knew she was attractive and she loved to flaunt and taunt. Usually, he'd take things into his own hands, but this time there was a problem. She just happened to be his boss. If only he could find a way to turn the tables, what with the business convention coming up and all. The entertainment at those things was always so boring, he'd love for her to become the main attraction.

Twisted Fairy-Tales

Snow White and the Seven Perverts

The concept I have is for a long-term play with separate chapters based/themed on the name of each dwarf. Bear in mind that what's below is just a rough draft. If anyone is interested, I'm sure we could brainstorm and tailor it to better match both of our kinks. Of course, the chapter order isn't set either. Because I've been asked when I had this idea up before, my original idea to play the perverts as normal-sized males, but hey, if you really want dwarfs, I'm amenable to it.

Prologue

Chapter 1 – Sleepy, anything but a prince
Snow White awakes to receive her first inkling that the Evil Queen may not be so bad after all

Chapter 2 – Doctor, Doctor
Snow White is instructed on the rules of the house and prescribed her medicine

Chapter 3 – Snow White gets Grumpy
Snow White discovers what happens when she disobeys the rules

Chapter 4 – A Dopey Night in
Drugs work better than chains

Chapter 5 - Happy times
Snow White receives a reward

Chapter 6 - A Bashful excursion
Snow White entertains at the local tavern (It could also be a bashful/shy 'dwarf', where Snow White takes control of the situation)

Chapter 7 –Sneezy shares Snow White (and Snow White!)
A cocaine-fuelled night of debauchery, and sharing

An Epic Fairy-tale Adventure

Goldilocks has come of age and in her desperation to escape the evil clutches of her widowed Step-father and his plans of betrothal - to him - she leaves her cottage in the dead of night. Tired and hungry, she breaks into an empty house usually occupied by a Father and his two son’s, the Bears. On her discovery and on hearing the story of the young woman a plan is hatched to keep young Goldie on as a household maid. From there begins a tale of sexual initiation and high-adventure as the four protagonists undertake a perilous quest to save all those other Fairy-Tale characters in need.

I have lots of ideas for this and whilst most of the story would be written from the viewpoints of Goldilocks and the Three 'Bears' I am looking to delve into other Fairy-tale pairings, incorporating the writing of their stories and putting our own unique spin on them. Filled with fun and adventure it wouldn't be all sunshine and roses and I envisage it also containing dark elements as any good Fairy-Tale should with some characters-in-peril being saved by our dynamic foursome and others meeting a bad end, possibly at our protagonists' hands. As well as a multitude of different sexual themes and kinks, for instance, as we perhaps pose some of the following questions or others of similar ilk;

Just how close were Hansel and Gretel and was their punishment deserved?

Why was Jack's crown broken, and who was responsible; Jill, before she came tumbling down? Is there something we have been told about what happened on that hill?

What's the best method for an attractive woman to distract a giant from Beanstalk surveillance?

How high a price will Goldie be prepared to pay, and in what currency, for her and her fellow traveler's to be allowed cross the Troll's bridge?

Is the wolf the only one to blow the Three Chauvinist Pigs, and if not, did the other do it willingly? Maybe he had reasonable justification for revenge?

Not to mention the possibilities offered up by Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, Rumpelstiltskin, and Little Red Riding Hood to name a few others. However, please note nothing is set in stone nor am I stuck on any specific scenarios. They're all just random ideas off the top of my head intended to hopefully, provide a better idea of the overall concept I'm looking to write and I'm fully open to suggestions/changes/preferences within the overarching framework.

Of course, everyone would be aged up appropriately, and I'd also be looking to keep the characters human, or at least humanoid (such as with any troll or giant, etc) in appearance, with the fairy-tale designation being used a metaphor for personality and/or looks.

If anyone is attracted to in the basic premise, and/or helping me flesh it out, just shoot me a PM.

Parodies

Good Guy Lucifer

I've had a vague idea I've mentioned to a few people about writing a story inspired by the 'Good Guy Lucifer' Memes, whereas Satan is the misunderstood good guy, and God, the Evil one who by virtue of having her book published first claimed all of the credit for being 'Good'. I'd envisage it as a parody with a female God, but as far as fleshing out a greater story I've a few ideas but am finding them hard to coalesce in my mind.

Possibly Satan and God are a couple having trouble with their sexually precocious teenage daughter, Eve, and wayward adopted son, Jesus, with every earthquake, tornado and tsunami a result of marital bickering and a 'Just because we're married, you can't tell me what to do' attitude from God, met with a "I think we need counseling, honey, you've just killed another three-hundred-thousand people," one from her husband. Of course, would also like to throw a solid overarching story-line in there as well.

One other thing that attracts me in this idea is that with the concept of God being eternal and omnipresent, time-lines and location wouldn't matter. We could move from the present day in one post to God, in a fit of pique, flooding the Earth in the next, then onto Samson and Delilah or Sodom and Gomorrah soon after, potentially playing the characters out and putting our own unique spin on each scenario. Ah, my brain has a habit of getting ahead of me with possibilities, there's now about a gazillion different ideas rattling around unchecked in my head and how they could all fit together.

Game of Tropes

Despite my requests or persona sometimes coming off as formal or even a little cold, it's because of the organised structure they require, which doesn't suit my non-linear thought process, and those who know me well outside of that are aware that I have an affinity for, and great love of, sarcasm, hyperbole and also more subtle humour.

In that vein, I've always wanted to write a complete story as a parody and would love to find a partner interested in joining me for a fun, comedic collaboration.

I've nothing set in stone as details are open to discussion however the idea I'm looking to play around with is for us to chose a

common pairing or two, or twenty

Christian Grey/Anastasia Steele inspired

Dominant Daddy/Virginal Daughter

Bad Boy/Good Girl

Jock/Cheerleader

Vampire/Lycan or Vampire Hunter

Teacher/Student

Experienced Older Male/Inexperienced Younger Female

Edward Cullen/Bella Swan inspired

Vampire/Human

Vile Rapist/Innocent Victim

Naive Woman/Male with Seductive Intent

Pretty much all other standard tropes open to discussion

and drop them in the middle of a

familiar plot theme(s)/trope(s)

An innocent daughter of a man whose ancestor crossed the ancestor of a Mafia Don three centuries before is made into a slave to repay the never-forgotten debt

A damsel in distress requires a rugged, dominant male to rescue her from peril

A virginal Princess is pressured into an arranged marriage to a Dominant Prince - from whom she'll learn the arts of submission and diplomacy - in an attempt to avert all-out war between two kingdoms

A naive, shy, innocent, never-been-touched girl needs the strict hand of an experienced older man to teach her about the birds and the bees

Either an Investigative Journalist or a Cop undertakes a secret mission to infiltrate a Biker Bar/S&M Club only to, in the second post, have her intrepid plans foiled by an evil villain who'll turn the once 'strong' - obviously, just look at her profession! - woman into a submissive little fuck-toy to be used and abused for the members amusement

A young daughter is fantasised over by Daddy, who can't restrain any longer his need to teach her a lesson

An impressionable student is taken advantage of by her handsome Professor, who threatens to fail her and treats her like shit before she grows to love it and together they sail off into the happily-ever-after sunset.

A teen, after being forced into prostitution, instead of trying to escape, finds it arousing, leading to her happily spreading her legs for as many men as humanly possible whilst falling romantically for her woman-beating pimp

A woman lost in the woods happens upon a lone man living in a cabin who, desiring nothing but solitude and to be left the fuck alone, - hence why he forwent his Calvin Klein underwear modelling contract for an isolated cabin in the woods - randomly finds himself wanting to seduce her when she knocks on his door in the middle of the night, and will not allow the buxom beauty to leave until she succumbs to his roguish, masculine charm.

A younger sister to play opposite an older brother who has nothing else on his mind than his desire to ravage and dominate her; no matter what. But, don't worry, she'll like it.

A lone hitchhiker's car breaks down in the middle of nowhere where the first people who happen to drive past unfortunately turn out to be a bunch of vile, but extremely good-looking, rapists, rather than the more statistically probable neutrals or Good Samaritans. Or even ugly rapists.

A human girl who attracts the attention of a Demon intent on turning her into his pet. For something extra unique, she could accidentally summon him by innocently reciting a spell from a dusty old book she just happened to stumble across in an attic.

An 'independent' woman reluctantly enters a BDSM club for the very first time only to experience an epiphany, three-and-a-half seconds after meeting the steely gaze of a man she's never before laid eyes on, where she realises that being a sub is her true calling in life and she's just found her Dom

A female Vampire's inhuman strength and extraordinary abilities are made redundant in the context of the story due to the plot requirement that regardless of how great they are, they still must be lesser than the Lycan or Vampire-Hunter she'll (for that very reason) invariably submit to

A girl falls in love with the man who mentally, physically and sexually abuses her, because:
a) Stockholm Syndrome
b) He was doing it out of love, lust and desire and to show her what it was she truly needed; isn't that romantic?
c) Just because
d) All of the above

A naughty schoolgirl or workmate discovered showing off her boobies by a peer/colleague is subsequently blackmailed into becoming the biggest, most depraved cock-hungry worthless whore in the history of the Universe. Because, well, that action is much more logical than going to the Police and risking a slap over the wrists from her parents, teacher or boss

Again, all other standard tropes open to discussion.

To create our own unique -or not so unique!- story. Then, once we have that, proceed to mercilessly rip the shit out of every cliche that we can possibly manage to incorporate.

For instance, an extreme plot example (and also an extreme example in the use of nouns and adjectives!):

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Edward Gray, a dominant, bad-boy Jock Sports Teacher, also later revealed to be blushing virgin Anastasia Swan's biological Vampiric Daddy and a billionaire entrepreneur, uses the threat of failing grades to blackmail the gullible and naive student Cheerleading Princess into becoming the Universe's biggest cock-craving submissive bimbo-slut, imprisoning the long-haired beauty, turned sex-slave, in a tower dungeon before the damsel-in-distress is stolen away from her sparkly captor by a Beast of a Prince Charming who helps her overcome Stockholm Syndrome, and together they live happily-ever-after!

Think along the lines of like Airplane/Scary Movie/Naked Gun/Monty Python and the Holy Grail/The Life Of Brian, etc; something ridiculously over-the-top in concept, characterisation, stereotypes and plot-elements, but still written in a serious tone akin to any other story, as if the characters truly exist as they are within the fictional world we place them in, not as slapstick.

I know this is rambling and possibly nonsensical, but if it the general concept does strikes a chord with anyone who shares my interest in writing a story that is pure intentional parody, just hit me up to discuss.

Plot Bunnies

Plot Bunnies

*A story centred around high-stakes gambling or a high-stakes gambler, possibly set in the Casino's of Vegas and/or other exotic locations Mystery, seduction, danger, but would like to say away from Mafia tropes.

*A prominent defence lawyer takes on the case of a serial rapist, only to discover that the accused is the very same man who raped and left her for dead, years before.

* A young woman accused of the murder of her family and boyfriend is bailed old by a relative/family friend who believes in her innocence, only to discover the girl is much more than appears to be, leading to a sexual powerplay, infidelity, betrayal, and death. (as usual, have ideas for this sitting in my head, but need someone to bounce off to help flesh them out)

* An expose on the world of porn. Possibly some very dark content, even to the extent of snuff films, somewhat along the lines of the film 8mm with Nick Cage. Not looking for a 'victim' female main character, but one to work alongside mine, possibly the friend of a girl who's gone missing after entering the industry, however, would envisage multiple characters and various scenario for the female as she goes underground to obtain information. As usual, the vague idea sits in my head, and need help to solidify it.

* Lost luggage; nothing set in mind here, but a story centered around two plane passengers who accidentally collect the others luggage, leading to who knows what. Depending on what that luggage contained, could be a quirky rom-com, or turn out to be something much, much darker.

* Something with a seedy vibe; illegal gambling den, exotic dancers, drugs, and crime. A journalist/cop and a dancer/woman with her own intent for being there. Perhaps she gained a job there, casing the place for a sting? Or she's looking to take them own, even one entering the life undercover to write an expose for her college thesis, a woman living a double life

*Similar in some ways to the above, I've tried a couple before, but neither worked out in the long-term and lately have another itch for an investigative journalist story, this time set in the glory days of print media before computers, the internet and cellphones et al existed. Where rough and tumble, hard-working, hard-drinking tough men and just as rough and tumble, hard-drinking, hard-working women are prepared to use any trick in their arsenal; legal, ethical or otherwise; to first get the scoop and then deliver the copy to the newsroom before deadline. Maybe themed around illegal gambling dens and/or houses-of-ill-repute, potentially with political implications, though I'd rather it stayed away from Mafia tropes.

*A Female Cop/FBI agent, relatively young and newly promoted, looking to prove her mettle, and a serial-killer pairing. Maybe her promotion received a lot of media attention and he targets her for communication, which she hides from her superiors, determined to take him down alone. Leading to a battle of wills and words, and potentially a partnership/affair between them.

*A young woman becomes involved with the mysterious owner of 'The Manor' and drawn into a world she's never dreamed of, where any desire can be satiated for the right price.

*A young trophy wife sets out to embark on an affair to gain vicarious revenge on her philandering husband. In a twist of fate, the man she meets himself had an eye on her husband's company. After discovering each others identity, the duo decide why buy it when, with her inside knowledge and access and the right manipulations, they could gain control of the company for free. In the process, taking her husband and his wealthy reputable family down a peg or three. (Likely multiple characters for each in this story)

* A female investigative journalist sleeping with her sources to gain information. Possibly something in either the political or organised crimes spheres

*A high-profile athlete in the media spotlight after a recent break-up employs the services of an up and coming model to pose as his new girlfriend, enhancing her profile in the process. However, the relationship leads to unexpected consequences. Could be light-hearted romance, or turn to something much darker.

*If anyone knows Richard Laymon, a story concept similar to that of In the Dark or a splatter-punk story in general. Over the top, but at time also light-hearted violence, horror and sex in his vein.

*The Watcher - Able to see into her apartment from his, MC likes to watch yours living her life. As he becomes aware of the voyeur, she begins to puts on shows for him, wandering around naked, bringing home men so he can watch and more. I have in my head this being a story about two damaged people, possibly he's agoraphobic or housebound as he recovers from an accident, and a slow burn romance rather than anything dark with their communication progressing to phone calls and text messages, IM exchanges to an eventual meeting, but need help fleshing it out!

*A Bonnie and Clyde inspired story. Set sometime between 1930's-1960's. Two young lovers embarking on a cross-country lust-fueled crime spree.

*Stalking the Stalker - A TV weatherman/minor celebrity in a small town becomes the object of a woman's obsession after a chance meeting. As she begins to stalk him, little does she know the dark secrets she'll uncover, or that soon enough the stalker will become the stalk-ee.

*No concrete plot in mind, but a 'power-play' theme with a true female switch, who's happy to dominate as much as she is to submit. Potentially even two couples; I tend to always write be restricted to writing the 'dominant' character and am strongly craving the chance to try my hand at writing the opposite side of the coin. Even if just as part of a larger story/dynamic.

*A romance, with an older women locked in a stale marriage embarking on a torrid affair with a young man. Have a few different concepts floating around in my head re a setup for this.

*As an avid reader of Wilbur Smith, I'd love to write a story set in Colonial Africa. Potentially, a forbidden affair between the daughter of an English Aristocrat and a big-game hunter or poacher.

*A tale of differences; or a romance between two people from different status with differing ethical views and life values, who despite the odds, fall for each other.

*A story inspired by one of favourite films,

Leaving Las Vegas

[
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0x-yBuCV6tM
']

Two dysfunctional people, each struggling with their inner demons, involved in an ultimately doomed relationship. The alcoholic/prostitute dynamic would be nice, but not necessary. Plenty of other pairings possible.

*And another film-inspiration. I've been craving to play a 'descent-into-madness' vigilante by the movie Taxi Driver and its unforgettable protagonist,

Travis Bickle

[
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQkpes3dgzg
']

While I'd like to find someone who appreciates the film as much as me, and to use the basic premise of the movie, I'm totally open to ideas and partner preferences in developing the broader plot. Especially in regard to the role of the main female character.

*A stripper or escort, etc and her partner enter dangerous territory when they conspire to blackmail lucrative clients.

*I've been wanting to write a 'sliding doors' story - ala the movie (late missing word edit! with Gwyneth Paltrow; a RomCom where the film alternates between two storylines, showing the different paths the central character's life would take depending on whether or not she caught a train or missed it.

I'd like to take the base concept and turn it into a story with three paths instead of two - one light themed/romantic, one dark themed/non-con and one neutral - written over a defined in-character timeline of say, a week (or even a day).

However, as opposed to where the film went with it, I envisage all three strands converging at the end to culminate in the same exact finale; Ie; showing that no matter what journey she undertook or the path it took to get there, in the end, she couldn't escape her 'fate' - whether that end fate also be light, dark or neutral.

*A corruption story with a difference. An ex-criminal out to make amends and go straight meets a woman determined to see him return to his old ways for her own purposes (could be relatively light to extremely dark)

 

[Occam's Razor]

Writing Samples

Below are some writing samples from stories played on BlueMoon and Elliquiy which will hopefully help demonstrate the variety of themes and tones I enjoy writing, along with the different characters/personalities I can portray.

Dulce Periculum

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Todd glanced at the clock on the wall, hands illuminated by the moonlight that streamed in through the half-drawn living room drapes in his twelfth-floor apartment. Time for bed, he'd just mentioned to Mr Biggles. For most normal people anyway, it being well into the morning hours, and as if the cat had understood him, it mewled and scratched at the door leading to his bedroom, anticipating the warm comfort of its Master's bed.

"Sorry Biggles, not yet." The cat peered back at the sound of Todd's voice, pausing before it padded back over to nuzzle his leg, then jumped back into his lap and curled into a ball. He'd just have to sleep there again, as he had on other occasions when Todd had remained awake all night perusing the message board, working, or trolling the dark web for videos. The majority of snuff films he came across were obvious fakes, but occasionally he chanced upon one that appeared authentic enough to arouse him.

Despite an appointment at nine o'clock in the morning, he was in no rush to hit the sack, for ever since childhood he'd required very little sleep to function and with his curiosity spiked, was keen to see if he'd receive a reply to his message. After scanning the immediate deluge of other posts and comments his reply elicited, he swiftly brushed them aside and waited patiently. When the one he hoped for appeared, Todd displayed little reaction except for a slight tensing of his muscles and a purse of the lips.

Unsure what to expect, although doubtful that he'd receive a name or any details of a crime, the man nodded in appreciation at the Schrodinger reference. Regardless of who it was and what else they had to say, they'd already demonstrated vastly more intelligence than he'd become accustomed to on the boards. "Well, well," Todd absently stroked the cat's fur as he read the message, brow furrowing the further down he went.

As for what he means to me; a few hours of mutilation and practice. If you’re telling the truth; then I’m the person who cleans up your messes.

The lack of emotion he sensed in that statement puzzled him. The body, and by extension death itself, had no meaning, particularly to a woman? That latter piece of information - the girl who'd look inside the box - hadn't escaped him, causing a quizzical tilt of his head as simultaneously a thrill of he wasn't quite sure what flowed through his veins, causing goose bumps to briefly rise on his arm. Unusual. Most of the browsers on the board were men, and the women he'd come across were fan-girls and sycophants begging for attention. This one was different.

A Policewomen or FBI, accustomed to seeing the worst of what humanity had to offer, attempting to lay a trap? The authorities were known to occasionally frequent the site - not that Todd cared, for with his computer expertise, and profession as a cyber-security consultant, he ensured his location was completely untraceable -, but that didn't feel right.

Mutilates them, and cleans up the messes. Practice.

Paramedic, Doctor, Nurse? Then why the reference to mutilation? Who mutilates a corpse, and cleans up the mess. Undertaker?

No concrete answer immediately coming to mind, and not wanting to waste time by contemplating it further, Todd mentally filed the information away, giving it time to brew without conscious thought. At the most random of moments, new possibilities would coalesce. For the moment, he was more interested in the totality of the reply.

If you're telling the truth.

Her tone conveyed an arrogance and surety unlike he'd often encountered, and that phrase in particular irked him. The expression of disbelief more subtle, but still present; another who didn't believe. So did the fact that whilst she'd answered his questions, that was it. No expansion or details, no requests or queries, no apparent care for who he was, what he'd claimed to have done or in the quid pro pro offered. No attention. Fucking bitch.

So, what the hell was she after, why respond at all?

Thinking it through, his gaze moved back to the Schrodinger comment, and the sentence that followed:

Why rely on anything but what is true?

Then flicked down to the end.

If you're telling the truth..

And up again.

I would be the girl who looked in the box.

With his eyes darting back and forth, a connection sparked in Todd's brain. Curiosity killed the cat, and if she wanted to fuck with him, he'd fuck right back.

Do you like cats?

Sorry, I digress.

Speculation is enjoyable, but if you prefer truths, let's talk about those.

If the dead mean nothing to you, why are you on this board?

What truths are you searching for, what proofs?

That men like me truly exist, that we aren't all crazy, that we look like your co-worker, your neighbour, the handsome stranger in the bar.

That you're incapable of recognising us until it's too late?

When you log off, how long will it take to delude yourself that I'm a fake and a braggart to ease the discomfort of uncertainty, of not knowing for sure.

Maybe you already have.

Am I monster or liar?

What is the truth to that question?

It's one only I possess.

Todd posted that to the public board, then opened up windows explorer and navigated to a set of time and date stamped, encrypted j-peg files buried deep in his hard drive.

He selected one and zoomed in on it, cropping and saving a new image that contained nothing but a close-up of a heart-shaped pendant with the initials CM embossed in cursive script on the front. Then Lowry returned to the web-page, right-clicked on her user icon and selected the direct message option, to make the communication private between them.

After attaching the file, he added a brief sentence,

Because only I've seen inside the box.

and hit enter.

Goldilocks And The Three 'Bears'

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The weasel shook like a leaf in Papa Bear's grasp and his head bobbed up and down in agreement as Rupert whispered in his ear, and explained the way things were to be. It was easy to order a young woman around, but not such a simple task when faced with a man your own age and twice your size. Jacob Slint was receiving an idea of how poor Goldilock's must have been made to feel and it was obvious the man didn't enjoy it.

However, unlike Goldie, who'd mustered up the courage to defend herself and denied being his possession - which had only furthered the Patriarch's admiration for the young woman - Jacob offered no resistance. Though Papa's words were rough and so was the grip by which he held Slint, he was a gentle soul underneath and had no intentions of maiming the man - if he even deserved to be thought of as such. He wasn't one to cause hurt for hurt's sake, though that wasn't to say that putting the frighteners through Mr Slint didn't bring him any satisfaction. The wink and sly grin he shot the boys as they entered the house attested to that.

Walter and Edmund reached the door at the same time and each emitted an 'oomph' as they became stuck half-in, half-out, of the entrance in their combined rush to be first. It took a few seconds for them to untangle their limbs from the others with Edmund, the eldest and strongest, gaining the advantage. He arrived at the room where Goldie was just in time to see the undergarments she held being slipped into the trunk. His eyes followed the movement of the lacy material and he opened to his mouth to comment, but that turned into another 'oomph, as he felt an elbow dig into his ribs. He tilted his head and the look on Walt's face and way he appraised Goldie made it obvious that his sibling had noticed the same as he. The elder boy rolled his eyes and shook his head as if to scold his younger brother for an obvious lack of maturity, and moved further into the room. Just as she clicked shut the trunk and stood to face them.

"What bath?" Walt's tone was one of confusion as Edmund moved closer to the young woman.

The shyness with which she had spoken and the way her cheeks blushed made the elder boy smile. He completely ignored his sibling's query as he reached out and brushed her elbow with the pads of his fingertips. "Sure, the offer still stands. We'll stop and bathe in the river. That way you won't have to wait until we get all the way home." The images that brought to mind caused Walt to flick his gaze to her chest - the one which contained her clothes, of course, although he was also tempted to glance at the other - , and swallow down the lump which had suddenly formed in his throat, and momentarily forced him to stop talking. He couldn't help but imagine what she wore under the filthy dress. And what, exactly, she'd bathe in.

'What bath?" Walt asked again, but this time his tone contained more annoyance than confusion.

Before he could ask a third time there came stomps on the floor and Rupert popped his head through the entrance. He took in the scene, then focused his attention on Goldie. "Your step-father was very reasonable, and we've come to an agreement. You're free to stay with us as long as you want."

"See Goldie, we told you everything would work out. My papa never lies." Edmund's voice was filled with admiration and he shot her a wide grin. At the same time the fingers which touched her elbow slid down the soft, warm skin of her arm to take hold of her hand. "Let's go".

Walt stood open-mouthed and stared at the two of them. He didn't move an inch as Edmund, with Goldilocks being gently dragged along with him, passed and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder. "Do something useful, and carry her trunk, will you".

Edmund's eyes raised to Papa's. "Goldie asked if we could stop on the way so that she could bathe in the river. I told her we could now that everything is okay. We can't make her walk all the way home as she is." That wasn't precisely what she'd said, but Edmund thought phrasing it as such would make it more difficult for Goldie to resist his plan. And his plan it was. He had no intention of asking his Father or brother to join in the fun. In fact, he hoped they could be convinced to continue the journey home whilst he spent the night by the river, 'bathing' with their new house-guest.

It wasn't until they'd almost made it to where Papa stood that he realised in his enthusiasm, he hadn't even given a Goldie a chance to respond or to see if she was ready to leave. He stopped so abruptly that he stumbled, his expression one of nerves and apology as his eyes came to rest on hers. "I mean, that's if you have everything you need, and you're ready?"

Papa chuckled at one son's actions as he watched another collect Goldie's trunk and place it over one shoulder. Walt's pupils narrowed at his brother and the look said that whatever Edmund had in mind, he wasn't to be allowed to get away with it. Not if Walt had any say in the matter.

"Are you ready, Goldie?" The Patriarch stepped inside to give her shoulder a reassuring pat. "If so, just follow me, your Step-Father won't cause us any trouble."

I've Come To Stare. You Want Me To Stare?

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Jensen could feel it. The adrenaline surging through his body, and the power. That sensation of having control and adulation. Ever since he was a child, he'd been the one to talk loudest, do the daring and dangerous stunts, and take risks that the other kids wouldn't. All to impress, and be the centre of attention. That's why he'd eventually gotten into the club scene. So that he could have a bevy of gorgeous young women at his beck and call. Women who would follow his orders and do whatever he wished. Women who feared him, and his power. As much as he'd wanted Jinx, cared for her and, in his own way, even loved her, those emotions weren't strong enough to over-ride his need to be the man. One who demanded respect and subservience from those beneath him.

And the slut had disrespected him by spreading her legs for Parker Kane. Now she was to face the consequences. This wasn't only about Jinx, but also every other dancer in the club, and any who may work there in the future. They'd hear the story, they'd hear what he'd done. How he'd fucked a virgin stripper in full view of the audience, and ripped away what was precious to her, simply because she had disobeyed his wishes. No-one would dare do that again. No-one. Sacrificing Jinx to ensure that happened was a hefty price to pay, but Jensen had no choice. His pride demanded it be paid.

His erection grew as he pulled her head up by the hair, and saw the knowledge in her expression, that yes, he was going to go through with it. Jensen was going to make her suck his cock, and then he was going to fuck her. Right here, in full view of a hundred screaming and cheering men, all of whom would be wishing they could be in his place. He'd never experienced what it was like to perform on stage, as the girls did, removing their clothes in front of adoring customers, but he began to sense a little of how it must feel. He was the centre of attention, like he'd hadn't been in years, and he realised why some of the girls kept coming back. Why they became addicted to performing, and couldn't give the game away.

Like the whore on her knees in front of him who, at that moment, had no idea that after he humiliated her, he'd rip away the opportunity to keep feeding her addiction as well. He knew every club owner in the city, and none of them would dare employ her without his approval. After he threw her out on the street, she wouldn't be dancing again. Not for hundreds of fawning, pussy-whipped men. Men who screamed for her attention, and showered her with money and gifts. Men whose glazed eyes evidenced how much they wanted her. How much they needed her. After tonight, the bitch would have to go cold turkey, and Jensen wasn't sure which would hurt most. That, or the humiliation he was about to put her through.

Although he'd wanted to ravage Jinx for so long, this moment wasn't so much about the sex, and feeling her tight, no-longer-virgin pussy clamped around his cock, than it was about revenge. "That's right Jinx, after this it will be different. You have no fucking idea". Raimi spat the words out, then gasped as he tugged her head forward and her tongue slid up his shaft. His eyes narrowed, and darkened. "Suck it, slut", He didn't give her a chance to refuse as he thrust his hips forward, and slammed his entire length in her mouth.

The next fifteen minutes were a blur. Afterwards, Jensen Raimi would have no real memory of the detail. Just snippets here and there; the cacophony of noise; every bouncer in the club lined up at the front of the stage to stop it from being stormed; grown men, in business suits and ties, jeering like rowdy children watching a school yard fight. He would later recall how his hand ripped at her hair, and his balls slapped her chin as he fucked her mouth. That, from somewhere, a table from the floor had been thrown on the stage, and a chant had gone up from the crowd, "Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her". That he'd slammed Jinx face-down on the table, and fucked her without mercy, and left scratches on her skin and bruises on her thighs.

It was only when he'd released his seed deep inside her, and his breath slowed, that the arena came back into focus. Men stood and applauded as he placed one hand on Jinx's head, and shoved her cheek down onto the cold wood, so that he could withdraw his cock and move to his feet. The crowd quietened. With the young stripper splayed out, face-down, her skin bruised and marked, and cum leaking from her pussy, Jensen whispered. "Goodbye Jinx"

Then he raised his voice, and motioned to the security staff. "Get the bitch out of here, and make sure she never comes back".

The club owner didn't even so much as glance over his shoulder as he walked back to the office, and two muscled bouncers - four times Jinx's size - each grabbed an arm, and dragged her away. "You heard the boss". The audience parted like the Red Sea to allow them through, and thirty seconds later Jinx was thrown out onto the street, the club doors slammed shut behind her.

The Heiress and the Hacker

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Richard, as best he could, articulated the details of the planned meeting in a direct, businesslike manner, as it allowed him to focus on concrete action. He needed to maintain a calm demeanour and appear in control of his emotions, more for his own sake than Lexi's, fearful that revealing his innermost concerns and mental turmoil could induce the Heiress to respond in the same vein. If that were to occur, he was uncertain if he could deal with the emotional fallout, which could be potentially much more intense than his own. For, despite what he'd endured, it paled in comparison to Lexi, who'd constantly been the one victimised and forced to face the threat of imminent consequence, whilst he'd remained free to decide the next move on his own terms.

It hadn't been Treloar who'd risked discovery placing the flash-drive in Huntington's home network, nor was it him who'd been forced to travel to LA, confronted by Karl Williams, and imprisoned in a room, unsure if his lover would arrive to whisk him to safety in time to avoid the retribution that would undoubtedly follow as punishment for his perceived crimes. If he'd desired, he could have walked away anytime, leaving Lexi in the clutches of her Father, and gone on with the rest of his life. Not that he'd ever have abandoned Alexandra, but the fact was that he'd always possessed choices, where she hadn't. Now he expected her to play the victim once more, this time willingly, and suffer humiliation in a scenario arranged by her lover.

As gut-wrenching as it was for the Hacker, he couldn't even begin to imagine what went through Lexi's mind when he relayed that she'd meet with the pornographer alone, images of her naked body on full display for him to comment on, and from his position of power, use to verbally degrade her. That, Treloar knew with innate certainty, was the purpose behind Levine's demand. However, it was best not to contemplate it, or delve into further detail, for what other option had he had, but to agree? "I don't think he trusts me not to beat the crap out of him. It's the type of man he is, Lexi, a coward, who preys on the weak. But you're not weak, and although I won't be there, I'll only be a phone call away. " Hints of the restrained anger he'd been keeping under wraps escaped Richard, as Alexandra's anxious reaction elicited a brief expression of anguish and remorse. Reluctantly, he released her fully from his grasp.

Not surprised at the initial negative response, he bit his lip and resisted the temptation to offer advice or encouragement as she paced the room. Hopefully the Heiress would arrive at what he believed could be the only correct verdict, of her own volition. When it eventually came, Richard did all he could to not betray his relief. "We really don't have a choice. I wish I could say something to make it easier, however, I can't, but we will get through it. Your strength and determination are the reasons I could never forget you. Anyone else would have bowed to the whims of your Father by now, but not the Alexandria Huntington I fell in love with. She's a fighter."

Forcing a smile, but with a guilty conscience holding him back from approaching to offer his arms for comfort, not even sure if he did so soon after the part he'd had to play in the decision just reached that Alexandra would accept his embrace, Treloar stepped to the window. He drew back the curtains, and surveyed the moonlit parking lot in silence for half a minute, then returned his gaze to Lexi's. "It's going to be a long day, so at least one of us should try and get some rest. I'll keep watch.

Not So Snow White

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Stuart Thomson had viewed a lot of pornography in his young life; a lot; and in each and every one of the video's, the women had revelled in being treated like a piece of meat and called every name under the sun. Slut, whore, bitch, tramp, hussy and more that he couldn't even recall. From their reactions and expression when the men - often more than one - issued their orders, and forced them to their knees to insult and degrade them before they bent them over, whipped their asses, pulled on their hair and fucked them, cuffed, bound and at the male's complete and utter mercy, it appeared every woman's fantasy come true. Those men, to Stuart, were the epitome of what a 'Dom' should be.

Obviously the poor boy was a little confused, and unaware of the vast difference between Gonzo porn and a Dominant, or that the women on screen were actresses, and the screaming, writhing orgasms; the likes of which Stuart had never elicited from a girl; were in fact, faked. Luckily for Sofia White, although not the sharpest tool in the shed, Stuart hadn't been denied every last vestige of common sense, and was somewhat cognisant of the possible effects of his own inexperience. He couldn't risk harming Sofia and having her found unconscious, or worse, in his dorm room. That would not reflect positively on Delta Tau Chi and could well see him excommunicated. He'd need to take it carefully, but that wasn't an issue, as she'd stated this wouldn't be their first and last time. There was always the next for both to look forward to.

That he was already on the right track was evidenced by the raven-haired woman's reaction to his authoritative voice when the door clicked behind her, and it elicited a smile from her new 'Dom'. As did her acknowledgement of his importance in the Fraternity hierarchy, and the touch of her fingers which brought goose-bumps to his skin, and a shiver to his spine. "That's right." Stuart's chest puffed out as he followed her gaze to the paddle and handcuffs; the wristbands the last thing on his mind at that moment; then turned back to her with a cocky smirk pasted across his features. "I can have any girl I want now, and I got myself the hottest piece of ass on Campus." Just because she was his toy for the night didn't mean she wasn't worth a compliment.

He grinned and took a step forward, then stopped as her words reverberated in his ears, "Are you ready for me to be your slut?" The girl was really getting into it, and Stuart nodded and squirmed at the sensation of his jeans tightening around the crotch as his gaze dropped to the sight of Sofia's fingers commencing to undo her pants. He gulped, and stood as though entranced until a lightning bolt struck him. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work; he was meant to be in control! Suddenly, with his burgeoning erection forgotten for the moment, Stuart's arm snaked out, and he gripped an elbow. "Did I tell you to get naked yet?"

Quite proud of the commanding tone he'd managed to convey, Stuart arched a brow and shook his head. "No, I didn't. You gonna be my slut, you need to learn to do what you're told. Got it?" It was a rhetorical question, asked as he released her arm and motioned to the floor without allowing Sofia time to respond. "On your knees, and......." The boy's mouth flapped open and closed, and his pupils widened as, with green orbs locked on Sofia's, words failed him. What the fuck did he do now? He licked his lips, and his Adam's apple bobbed as his gaze flicked uncertainly around the room. Confidence was restored when his eyes lit upon his implements, and he turned back, released his grip on her arm and lifted a hand to point. "You need to be spanked. Fetch that paddle and bring it to me."

He then stepped to the two-seat sofa, turned it to provide a full view of the room, smiled at the woman, and completed his instructions as he dropped into his seat. "Between your teeth. And remove the top, I want to see your tits." Stuart Thomson was starting to get the hang of this domm-ing thing, and could only hope that Sofia was enjoying herself nearly as much. With new-found composure, he waited for his command to be obeyed.

Scaremonger

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Zai's cheerful good-humour and repartee had Kyle grinning like an idiot all the way back to the highway, and beyond. It was a treat to see her emerging from her shell and becoming a woman, proud of her femininity and attractiveness again. At least that's how Kyle perceived it; that he was seeing a different side to Azairah D'Amici, and possibly one that had been displayed to very few others.

That her charm, wit and sensuality contrasted against the murder she'd so viciously perpetrated in the forest, evidenced by the blood-smeared features and crimson stained dress, was not contemplated by Kyle as it may have been by others. You could be a cold-blooded, brutal killer, and simultaneously be a desirable woman. It all depended on perspective, and who was deserving of seeing which aspects of your personality. Kyle had viewed a number of Zai's and looked forward to even more. He wanted to know her completely, and for there to be no secrets between them. Along with the sweet sound of her voice, and the entrancing laugh, those internal contemplations caused him to feel content on the journey to the Motel, and not speak about the details of what had occurred. He was caught up in his own world.

It must have been the cooler night air, which caused his brain to switch modes, or the profile of Azairah viewed through the window that mingled with the image of an Angel he'd seen as she walked towards him in the forest, and the Army veteran realised he'd never felt as he did with Zai with any other woman. Not even Amy. That had been love, but a love ignited simply by physical attraction and base carnal desires, which had quickly burnt out in his absences, and left naught but charred remains when he returned from Afghanistan.

However, with Azairah D'Amici, he sensed an infinitely deeper connection was possible; that which was granted to so few, and mocked by so many. A soul-mate. In mind, and in body, for Kyle couldn't deny that, for the first time since the destruction of his marriage, he'd begun to consider sexual intimacy. But, for the moment, that only lingered in the back of his brain, and what was most important was Zai's emotional well-being. That's what led to his question.

The concern carried in his expression and tone was evident, as Kyle had swiftly decided that, although he'd meant the words of sacrifice he'd spoken before, this was the true make-or-break time for he and Azairah, and that sent a jolt of fear through his entire body. If she'd displayed hesitation, regret, remorse or blame, he'd have departed in the dead of night, leaving her to deal with the pain of his betrayal, but with his conscience clear that he'd cause no greater agony. Even if her choice of words had been ambiguous, he may have well done the same, however, thankfully, the question of how both would have handled that, and what would have become of them, was one that would never require an answer when she responded in the manner that he'd so fervently hoped for.

The man's eyes brimmed with tears, and he nuzzled his cheek against her hand when she scooted over and touched him. "Thanks, Zai. I wanted to make sure, for my own piece of mind." Those softly spoken, almost sad, words were the only ones he uttered before he lightly kissed her palm, forced a small smile, and headed towards the check-in office. When he arrived, his full cheer had returned, and Kyle then called out, "However, if you don't plan on doing anything perverted to me, I may as well get two rooms," over his shoulder, before disappearing through the door.

He'd parked the vehicle under a broken light so that his passenger would be out of sight, and as opposed to her, Kyle's body and clothing displayed no evidence of their brutal crimes, so obtaining a room was a breeze, and Kyle swiftly returned with the key. The accommodations were small and cluttered, as he'd envisaged they would be, with just the one bed, and a bathroom off to the side, but at least the room was clean and comfortable enough. "Go on, wash that blood off if you must. I'm sure this won't be the last time I get to see it, and we wouldn't want any of the men from the bar getting as worked up as I over the sight. Or am I the only male who appreciates how sexy it is?"

Kyle winked, and then, when she entered the bathroom, headed back outside to appraise his truck. The bull bar was coated in hair and blood, and scraps of flesh from the brunette, and the undercarriage was sure to be worse, but it wasn't noticeable in the darkness unless you peered closely, and Kyle concluded that if anyone came to inspect the vehicle during the night, that would be the end of them, regardless. They'd find a hose in the morning and wash the remaining trash down the drain, where it belonged, amongst its sewage brethren.

By the time Zai was ready, he'd changed into a pair of jeans and a buttoned up blue and white shirt, which didn't come anywhere near to matching the class of the woman who'd be accompanying him. "Damn.' Kyle wolf-whistled again, and allowed his eyes to roam Zai's form. "Red definitely is your colour," he grinned as he approached to gently grasp her elbow. "Let's go have some fun."

A Royal Catastrophe

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Watching the machine gun turret slowly turn towards them, Ben was in a quandary of exactly how to make it to their destination without being shredded to pieces, when Sky grabbed his arm. Bullets ricocheted around them, and there didn't appear to be a clear path, even if they continued to ziz-zag. Then he noted their one opportunity, however, Sky had beaten him to it, and before he could open his mouth, she'd already commenced to drag them towards the opened doors of the elevator; a slug furrowing his scalp as the metal doors closed behind them. "Fuck, that was a little." Weapon in hand, he urged the car to move faster, and checked himself in the mirrored rear wall patted down his newly-parted hair, and forced a smile when he turned to face Schuyler. "Hair-raising."

The joke intended to calm the woman before they exited on the top floor, and were once more in the midst of a war zone, the Spy swiftly realised it hadn't really been required. Sky seemed to be even more composed than he was, and a quick-thinker to boot. Nodding as she spoke, and keeping one eye on the floor numbers flashing past on the LED display, his full attention was soon drawn to her. 'What the fuck?" Shaking his head, the man's eyes followed her movements, even at a time like this, lingering on the revealed cleavage a moment longer than was totally appropriate, before he refocused on her face, and gripped Schuyler's shoulder. "Are you kidding me?"

His expression changed when the elevator bell dinged; it wasn't like he had a better plan. "What the hell, it just might work." Hardly able to believe he'd said that, the doors opened, leaving him no chance to regret it before he jumped out, and called back over his shoulder. "You better not die when I'm just beginning to like you. And don't forget those valuable assets now belong to the United Kingdom."

Rushing forward, Ben missed Sky's shedding of her trench-coat, but not the group of rebels eyes widening, and pupils opening in shock, and some other, more lustful expression, as he allowed his legs to buckle under him. The MI6 agent's ass hit the floor, and forward momentum drove his feet into the knees of two men, sending them tumbling like bowling pins. Once through, and clear on the other side, he backflipped to his feet, and left Sky to deal with the rest.

"Shit." Spotting the barrel of a gun aimed directly at his head, the Spy immediately hit the floor again, this time initiating a forward triple-somersault, and a slug whizzed in the air where Ben's brain would have been, simultaneously as he slammed his head into the man's stomach, eliciting a surprised groan, and sent him catapulting over the railing. A scream following all the way behind him, until it abruptly stopped when his body impacted the ground floor with enough force to break every bone. However, the spy didn't pause to witness the landing.

Instead, as the man fell, he'd slipped the knife from the scabbard on his belt, turned, twisted, and hurled it end over end, impaling the heart of the ninja who stood on the skids of the helicopter. The Russian's death throes caused his finger to jam on the trigger of his weapon, and shoot a hail of bullets into the air, before he fell forward, and hung upside down off the skids, suspended by one foot. He was the last, and with the path cleared, Ben's instinctual reaction was to stop and assist Sky behind him, but as he turned to do so, the Helicopter pilot, obviously aware of their intent, began to lift the aircraft towards the roof line. Five or ten seconds and it'd be out of his reach, so she'd need be left to her own devices.

Certain, at least, that Schuyler remained alive, by the banter he heard, he could only think, "at least they didn't call her a hooker", before sprinting towards the chopper. No gymnastics on this occasion. As soon as he gained leverage, Ben clambered up, avoiding the boot that attempted to stomp his fingers, hooked the man's ankle with one arm, and dumped him on his ass, then entered the cockpit, and planted a bullet in his head. At that precise moment an explosion ripped through the air.

His heart sunk, and Ben was consumed with a sense of failure, as his gaze searched for what remained of Schuyler Lassiter. Flames and amputated limbs shot out from a cloud of smoke, and he consoled himself with the fact that at least she'd gone painlessly, and taken a few with her. Then, a female voice split the air, screaming his name, and a huge smile broke out on his face. He should have known she wouldn't have gone that easily. However, his pleased expression swiftly dissipated when he noted her precarious location, and the throng of machine-gun wielding thugs remaining on the lower floors.

There was no way he could both retain control of the chopper and run to her aid, so he scanned the area to find a solution. "Hang on Sky, I've an idea." Ben's gaze landed on the dead Russian hanging off the skid. Acting swiftly, he removed the knife embedded in his chest, sliced at the man's clothing, then kicked him over the edge, met Sky's eyes, and tossed the leather harness, attached to a thick nylon rope, he'd been wearing, in her direction, expertly landing it two inches away. "Clamber into that," he screamed over the cacophonous noise of the rotors, and glanced over his shoulder. "And hurry." Two dark specks had appeared on the horizon, headed towards them.

All Ben could hope as he ensured his end of the rope was securely fastened to the frame of the chopper, then dropped into the pilot's chair, placed his hand on the throttle, and began to raise the aircraft higher, in order to facilitate their escape before further company arrived, was that Sky's dance training incorporated climbing practice. Or she'd be left dangling in the air, like a worm at the end of a fisherman's hook, until he could dare stop to assist. At least the two disparate groups of assailants were now apparently too occupied shooting at each other that it appeared they'd momentarily forgotten their real quarry. Fucking amateurs!

Though They Walk Through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death

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Face pale with terror, Adam's shaky hand moved to switch on the bedside lamp. Images of Fire and Brimstone, and writhing figures - men, women and children all - screaming in pain as flames consumed their bodies, flowed through his mind. Eyeballs exploded and liquefied flesh oozed into fiery lava pits, leaving nothing but a collapsed pile of charred bones on the ground before moments later the victim's human form was resurrected in its entirety and subjected to the same agonising fate again. Over and over, ad infinitum.

"DO YOU DESERVE TO BURN?"

The Pastor stared at him and Eve, feverish gaze darting between the children seated in the front row next to their Uniformed father and oh-so-sweet-acting Mary, pointing the Crucifix at each in turn.

"DO YOU?"

The question screamed at one child, then the other.

"OR DO YOU DESERVE TO BE SAVED?"

"Hell for you, boy." David twisted his arm and painfully pinched the sensitive flesh above Adam's elbow, the previous day's misdemeanour neither forgotten nor forgiven, but the boy knew not to protest. Or, even worse, to plead to his Step-Mother for assistance.

Father O'Malley, a friend of David's and Police Chaplain, approached from the pulpit.

"REPENT YOUR SINS AND LOVE AND OBEY THY FATHER, OR YOU SHALL BE TORTURED FOR ETERNITY."

The Man of God frothed at the mouth and screamed at Adam and Eve in front of the entire Parish, continuing even as the boy cried and cowered away in abject terror. A man who was meant to be loving, and care for his flock. A man who.....................

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Adam's head struck the wall of the trailer with a harsh thump, eliciting a grunt of pain, but at least it brought an end to the memories before the howl of denial escaped his lips, further scaring Eve. It allowed him to avoid having to think about what the same Priest had later done after David had offered Adam up as an altar boy on his sixteenth birthday. Where the phrase, In Service of The Holy Father, assumed an entirely new meaning and no amount of soap had been able to cleanse the vile taste from his mouth.

Panting and puffing, he returned to reality and wrapped his arms tightly around Eve, as always feeling guilty that she endured the same nightmarish memories as he. For as much pain and abuse as he'd suffered, it was his little sister's that most pierced his heart and encouraged the relentless mental demons to never rest. Not only what he knew, but the depravities Eve couldn't bring herself to fully reveal after they'd reunited. Maybe if they'd unconditionally loved David, as he'd demanded, things would have been different, but then how can you love and respect one on command who has done naught to earn either?

If there really were such a thing as Angels, why didn't Eve have wings? Adam clasped a hand over hers, and ran a palm lovingly up and down her back, admonishing himself to remain strong for his sister. "Too much power, we can't let him." He repeated her words, and flicked his gaze back to the television, fearful that the channels might have changed by themselves when he'd looked away and David would be there on the screen shaking his head in mocking contempt at Adam and Eve. Then her next comment penetrated his consciousness and the expression on his face when he returned focus to her was one of disbelief, as if she were crazy. "Kill him?" Thunder cracked outside and Adam jumped a foot in the air, expecting the ceiling to cave in and crush them to pieces where they lay.

However, it didn't, and as Eve crawled up his body and his touch drifted down her skin, the spark in her eyes ignited confidence in her elder brother. "Murder him, eviscerate him, cut God's fucking head off and feed it to the dogs." Excitement and glee lit up Adam's features, mostly in surprise that he'd actually uttered the words aloud before his countenance sobered. "Do you think we could, but how? He has his army and would turn us to dust before we even got near. Unless." Adam's brows furrowed in concentration, the last word barely audible.

Leaning forward, he tugged on Eve's arm, bringing her closer, and peered into her deep brown eyes. "Do you recall that movie we watched one time, Evie? The Wizard of Oz." Whispering, he cupped her chin and caressed her cheek. "Sometimes when I have a good dream, that's what I dream about." A light smile caused the corners of his lips to curl upwards as he recalled one of the few pleasurable events from childhood. "That God is like the Wizard, all booming voice and scary threats, but once you get close, you discover he's actually nothing but a pathetic little man, terrified of his own shadow."

Shrugging, Adam sighed, and kissed the tip of Eve's nose, then her forehead, "Maybe that's just wishful thinking, but we're not helpless children any more, and if we took out his minions first?" The very same blue-uniformed minions who, after a few too many beers at David's poker nights lured the teenage Adam down to the basement and forced him to perform acts condemned in the Bible, but apparently condoned by The Lord for certain of his Acolytes. "Weaken his defences and make him frightened of us, before we confronted him." Kissing Evie's nose again, then her mouth, Adam Magdalene lightly bumped his head against his sister's. "If it doesn't work, we're destined for Satan anyway."

 

[Occam's Razor]

Bump. No submissive females, thanks.