Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
ElaineSubRP
Meteorite
- Joined
- Sep 12, 2019
- Location
- Australia
Hello everybody
The personal things you should know about me is that I go by Elaine, I'm a university student who works part time. I love creative writing. I’ve always had a very active imagination. Pairing that with my natural interest in BDSM dynamics during role play tends to work well.
As you may have gathered, I am a submissive.
I am seeking (though not opposed to) something a bit more than your regular slave/master scene. I am looking for a smut-based story that details the lead up to submission, what MC is feeling, what YC is feeling, how it all happens (who, what, when, why)- usually, it is a gradual process with lots of build up.
Here are a few kinks that I’m into:
- Verbal humiliation.
- Corporal punishment.
- Sexual & out of bedroom degradation.
- Fear.
- Embarrassment.
- Being taken advantage of.
- Bulge and cock worship.
- Musk.
- Ball smothering and worship.
- Begging (either for YC to stop, or to keep going).
- Edging and teasing.
- Abuse and violence.
- Cuckqueaning (certainly not required in all role plays).
- Cheating.
- Deception.
Things that I do not find appealing are:
- Death.
- Body modifications (bimboification etc).
- Incest.
- Unrealistic body sizes (monster cocks, balloon-like breasts).
- Animals.
- Underage characters.
Roleplaying with me:
- My post lengths vary, depending on the stage of the story and how much you provide me with.
- A typical post length would be 3-10 average sized paragraphs.
- I only role play on this site, as I do not have discord.
- I tend to lean towards the I/You POV. This does not mean I want to have sex with you, or have your babies. So rest assured. It is just a POV I have grown used to.
- I am very open to writing in third person.
- My typical post times are usually once every 1 or 2 - 7 days, depending on my schedule.
- I am not very into fandom settings and tend to use my OCs.
- I write on a mobile phone; I always try to keep typos to a minimum, but if a strange word comes up, that is most likely the reason.
- I do not have any issue with you continuing directly on from a scene/idea given, and I also have no problem with a proposition of an idea; just keep it detailed.
- Huntsman x Lost woman/Criminal/Banished witch.
- Boss x Intern/Secretary/Rival.
- King x Failed soldier/General/Devoted servant.
- Police Officer/Criminal x Trainee Officer
- Solider x High fae/Village girl/Cook.
- Brother or father in law.
- Step siblings.
I look across from you, seated at the dining table, my hazel eyes bearing into your soul before I watch your fork stab into the dinner I had spent all fucking day making, my eyes unmoving as you raise the fork and put the contents into your mouth.
Taking a deep sip from my glass of wine, I finally speak, having uttered little to you since you had gotten home from work. “How is it?” I bite out, a dispassionate look on the girly features of my face, my full lips pursed as though I had tasted something sour.
I eye your loosened tie, a surge of jealousy flitting into my stomach. I knew it was wrong of me to be so angry at you, to be so bitter. It wasn’t your fault that we were born in a traditional community. Our marriage was pressured you, too. You didn’t want it as much as I didn’t. But I couldn’t help it. You got to leave everyday, to go somewhere knowing you would be doing something meaningful. Before our engagement, I was doing the same. Regardless of my father’s wishes, I had gotten myself into a law degree and had started my internship at some firm in the city. Your family kindly paid off the cost of my first year that the university demanded when I left.
It had been just over six months since our wedding night, but I was still as cold as ever. Every chance I had, I seemed to glare at you, and you had mostly given up on making conversation with me. Even in bed, I brooded, laying like a lifeless fish when we rarely had sex.
It was a tense situation.
Taking a deep sip from my glass of wine, I finally speak, having uttered little to you since you had gotten home from work. “How is it?” I bite out, a dispassionate look on the girly features of my face, my full lips pursed as though I had tasted something sour.
I eye your loosened tie, a surge of jealousy flitting into my stomach. I knew it was wrong of me to be so angry at you, to be so bitter. It wasn’t your fault that we were born in a traditional community. Our marriage was pressured you, too. You didn’t want it as much as I didn’t. But I couldn’t help it. You got to leave everyday, to go somewhere knowing you would be doing something meaningful. Before our engagement, I was doing the same. Regardless of my father’s wishes, I had gotten myself into a law degree and had started my internship at some firm in the city. Your family kindly paid off the cost of my first year that the university demanded when I left.
It had been just over six months since our wedding night, but I was still as cold as ever. Every chance I had, I seemed to glare at you, and you had mostly given up on making conversation with me. Even in bed, I brooded, laying like a lifeless fish when we rarely had sex.
It was a tense situation.
The rain pelts down on the fabric of my large tent, thunder echoing in the background as I pace up and down, boots thumping on the ground as I try to grasp at what was about to become my reality. The thought of seeing your face made me nauseous, especially in these circumstances.
The campaign had gone lopsided. My second campaign. It had only been a month, but the king had demanded that you come down at once, or all would be lost. Somehow, everything that could’ve gone wrong had; including the weather. Somehow, three of our battalions were attacked from behind, a possibility I had overlooked. Many of the grain farmers and merchants disapproved of my leadership, and had encouraged their underlings to take the longer route to the camp, my soldiers therefore growing hungry and disgruntled. On top of that, two advantageous pieces of lands that the kingdom once possessed were taken over by our opponents, leaving us completely screwed.
My stomach flipped as I only imagined what they were saying back home, at how the King himself would be fuming with anger, at how likely it would be for one of my own soldiers to slip in at any moment while I slept to slit my throat and hang my head upon a neighbouring pole.
The colourful imagery entering my mind is interrupted by your arrival, a disgruntled faced followed by an intimidating body entering the tent. I look up at you, hiding all reservations, feats and disappointment from my face, bowing my head for a moment before returning my eyes to yours.
“General, it has been a while” I greet you.
The campaign had gone lopsided. My second campaign. It had only been a month, but the king had demanded that you come down at once, or all would be lost. Somehow, everything that could’ve gone wrong had; including the weather. Somehow, three of our battalions were attacked from behind, a possibility I had overlooked. Many of the grain farmers and merchants disapproved of my leadership, and had encouraged their underlings to take the longer route to the camp, my soldiers therefore growing hungry and disgruntled. On top of that, two advantageous pieces of lands that the kingdom once possessed were taken over by our opponents, leaving us completely screwed.
My stomach flipped as I only imagined what they were saying back home, at how the King himself would be fuming with anger, at how likely it would be for one of my own soldiers to slip in at any moment while I slept to slit my throat and hang my head upon a neighbouring pole.
The colourful imagery entering my mind is interrupted by your arrival, a disgruntled faced followed by an intimidating body entering the tent. I look up at you, hiding all reservations, feats and disappointment from my face, bowing my head for a moment before returning my eyes to yours.
“General, it has been a while” I greet you.
[You resist the urge to groan as you peer out the peephole, seeing me standing there, your favourite bottle of wine in my hands, dressed in some outfit that did little to hide my legs and the natural shape of my slim body. Your girlfriend of around a year had broken up with you only a few hours ago. Something about her not being able to commit. It was a shame, she really was hot. You wondered how on earth I knew so quickly; you hadn’t even changed your Facebook status yet.]
I stand at your front door, feeling slightly ashamed about how excited I was when I heard the news. Finally, the bitch was gone. For a year, I had to watch the two of you grab at each other, kiss one another, having to restrict how often I was over at your place. It was terrible.
From the moment we met, I knew you were special. I worked at the café you and your friends from the prestigious, expensive college (university) you all attended often visited. When you were alone, I sometimes gave you free coffees, it slowly progressing to offers to help with your assignments, and even to do your laundry on the side. I was persistent that you kept me around for when you needed something, often being when you needed to be picked up after a night of drinking. 2 years later, I still stuck around, remaining single. I disregarded any other male, even when you eventually started dating. I knew it would eventually end, anyways.
I figured you’d want a glass of wine, and that you would be taking the day for yourself. Maybe we could even watch that show you liked. Regardless of what we were doing, I was excited at the prospect of you being mine for the day.
I stand at your front door, feeling slightly ashamed about how excited I was when I heard the news. Finally, the bitch was gone. For a year, I had to watch the two of you grab at each other, kiss one another, having to restrict how often I was over at your place. It was terrible.
From the moment we met, I knew you were special. I worked at the café you and your friends from the prestigious, expensive college (university) you all attended often visited. When you were alone, I sometimes gave you free coffees, it slowly progressing to offers to help with your assignments, and even to do your laundry on the side. I was persistent that you kept me around for when you needed something, often being when you needed to be picked up after a night of drinking. 2 years later, I still stuck around, remaining single. I disregarded any other male, even when you eventually started dating. I knew it would eventually end, anyways.
I figured you’d want a glass of wine, and that you would be taking the day for yourself. Maybe we could even watch that show you liked. Regardless of what we were doing, I was excited at the prospect of you being mine for the day.
I study your rigorous work with an odd fascination, my novel laying open on my lap as I sit perched upon the wooden bench, my hazel gaze unmoving as you push the firewood you had just retrieved from the nearby wood in a wheelbarrow along the stone path within the lavish gardens that I call mine.
You weren’t like the other servants here. Most were born in the manor; their parents had also served my family, as did their parents and so on. Not you. You were given as a gift to us by Commander Kingsley, who seemingly had many men to spare for domestic servitude. My father was at first reluctant- you were once a soldier from the enemies, after all. What kind of threat would that pose to his precious family?
Mr Kingsley reassured him that you were harmless nowadays. You were very well behaved in the camps, and he even swore on his mother’s grave he had no inkling of a doubt that you would serve our family with unquestioning obedience. My father, at best wanting to be polite, accepted, and many months down the track, was elated that he did so; the gardens had never looked better, and the stable master no longer needed to find an apprentice to handle the horses. My father often joked that he hoped Kingsley would bring a female maid next visit, as a few of our female staff had been betrothed to local farmers and were due to leave the estate soon.
I break my stare to glance down at the shiny diamond on my own finger, reminded of my own engagement. I couldn’t wait. Despite my mother’s warnings of being over-zealous, the idea of marriage had me swoon, primarily due to the fact my husband-to-be was a very wealthy duke who lived in one of the larger cities.
Lifting my eyes back up to you, I watch as you raise the axe, sweat beading down your forehead as you split the log in half. Getting to my feet, I pick up my skirts, inching closer to the stables in which you work outside.
You weren’t like the other servants here. Most were born in the manor; their parents had also served my family, as did their parents and so on. Not you. You were given as a gift to us by Commander Kingsley, who seemingly had many men to spare for domestic servitude. My father was at first reluctant- you were once a soldier from the enemies, after all. What kind of threat would that pose to his precious family?
Mr Kingsley reassured him that you were harmless nowadays. You were very well behaved in the camps, and he even swore on his mother’s grave he had no inkling of a doubt that you would serve our family with unquestioning obedience. My father, at best wanting to be polite, accepted, and many months down the track, was elated that he did so; the gardens had never looked better, and the stable master no longer needed to find an apprentice to handle the horses. My father often joked that he hoped Kingsley would bring a female maid next visit, as a few of our female staff had been betrothed to local farmers and were due to leave the estate soon.
I break my stare to glance down at the shiny diamond on my own finger, reminded of my own engagement. I couldn’t wait. Despite my mother’s warnings of being over-zealous, the idea of marriage had me swoon, primarily due to the fact my husband-to-be was a very wealthy duke who lived in one of the larger cities.
Lifting my eyes back up to you, I watch as you raise the axe, sweat beading down your forehead as you split the log in half. Getting to my feet, I pick up my skirts, inching closer to the stables in which you work outside.
I resist the urge to bite my nails, knowing full well you hate the habit, despite being the one who often started the onslaught of nerves that triggered me to do so. “Do you like it?” I ask, a soft smile on my full, glossed lips, my hazel eyes darting from your face, to the shiny new watch in its box, to your face again. “I know you said no gifts this year... but it is our second anniversary, and I’ve saved up enough money from the babysitting I did for Mrs Kens to buy it” I explain, my demeanour oozing with self-doubt.
Despite the marriage only being two years old, it seemed as though I were constantly fighting for your attention; between work, your friends, your family that I constantly sucked up to... that stupid secretary of yours. I hated the feeling of disappointing you, of being a disappointment. The feeling became more recurrent, especially with the fruitless voyage of attempting to get pregnant.
I shift closer to you; I had dragged you down onto the rug before presenting you with the gift, the fireplace alight within the living room, my petite frame radiating a sense of warmth, similar to a pet’s; one that exploded with excitement whenever it’s owner stepped through the door.
I can’t help it, I bring my nail to my mouth, biting down gently as I await your response.
Despite the marriage only being two years old, it seemed as though I were constantly fighting for your attention; between work, your friends, your family that I constantly sucked up to... that stupid secretary of yours. I hated the feeling of disappointing you, of being a disappointment. The feeling became more recurrent, especially with the fruitless voyage of attempting to get pregnant.
I shift closer to you; I had dragged you down onto the rug before presenting you with the gift, the fireplace alight within the living room, my petite frame radiating a sense of warmth, similar to a pet’s; one that exploded with excitement whenever it’s owner stepped through the door.
I can’t help it, I bring my nail to my mouth, biting down gently as I await your response.
Appearance
- Height: 157cm/5ft2.
- Weight: Around 55kg (120lbs... I think, sorry, I’m not American).
12 Cs in Australian sizing; quite perky with light pink nipples. - Sizing: Smaller C cups, Size 6/8 dress size (Australian).
- Build: Petite. Small, defined waist and hips large in comparison. Wider eyes, a slightly prominent nose and full lips.
- Hair: Brunette, just below shoulder length.
- Complexion: Quite pale, with lots of freckles.