Fx Any Creatively Sadistic, Professionally Compassionate: Power Play and a Battle of Wits

Joined
Mar 5, 2019
Hello hello!

I am Breadstick, and I am looking for a partner (or two) for some sick and twisted writing practice.
First, about me:

- I work full time and spend a lot of time with family. I am also spending a lot of time focusing on some emotional turmoil that may upset my ability to engage in the topics that I like to explore here on BMR. I'll let you know if one of these spells hits, and when I predict I'll be able to return to the roleplay!

- I love writing, and I think it can and should be more work than play. The work is the fun for me. My first around this site, I was pretty casual with my writing and tended to reflect the writing of my partner. I don't have a problem with that reflection, but I'd like to find a partner that meets my expectations. I'm picky on grammar, sentence structure, and the ability to pull the classic improv and "Say Yes" in situations- be flexible, and don't make me lead the plot.

- I am big on OOC chatter, and believe that the relationship with your writing partner often directly ties with the flow of the roleplay, but that doesn't have to mean anything beyond regular check-ins and discussions on plot and character development. I am a naturally chatty person, so I like to chat about anything and everything that doesn't put me and my loved ones at risk (when talking to a stranger on the internet, you know the drill). If you prefer to preserve your energy for the story, just let me know and I will happily respect any and all boundaries.

I am hoping to use BMR as an emotional outlet and a way to hone my creative writing. Alongside all this bunk, I am also processing plenty of good ol' fashioned trauma. I want to use BMR to feed into the cravings, needs, and wounds that I want to dig through and heal. Granted, I don't expect you to give me aftercare or anything. I just want to write and tell a story that feeds into all these horrifying fantasies that I just want to get out.

Onto potential plots! I am looking for dark and realistic, and I am looking for a story in which MC plays the role of that manipulative, abusive dom. This can include anything within the following:

- MxM, MxF, FxF. Honestly, gender means very little to me as long as I'm not playing a submissive woman!
- Blackmailing
- Rape
- Incest (non-consensual, nothing romantic)
- CNC in general
- Kidnapping
- Held hostage
- Tabboo/Sexual Harassment in the workplace
- Teachers/Professors/Educational field
- Older guy/younger girl or vice versa
- Ideally a long-term plot planned in our OOC conversation
- Smut/plot ratio either 50/50 or 30/70, but this certainly isn't a big deal

Pretty much anything that suggests extortion, lack of consent, physically, emotionally or mentally forced into things, etc. I'm sure you get where I'm going. If my personality and ideas seem interesting to you, shoot me a message! I will be reading through sample work (and provide samples of my own below) and I will do my best to be understanding and polite as we work together to find our optimal partners to fill all our needs. I want a partner who will also enjoy our work, someone who invests as much as I do into this story. I want dark, sad. I need a sadist šŸ„°

My F-List

I don't have any samples right now of my writings as a dominant character, but this should give a good idea of my style.

Panic sent searing pain into Taylor's gut, like a lobbed spear sinking into its target, while she watched Stephen yank at his belt. Finally he'd turn her into just another statistic, another notch on his belt. Instead of freeing his cock, he folded the belt in half, then again. Her head swam, and she became suddenly aware of the dizziness sinking into her vision. Eyes crossed, then focused on the belt again, trying to keep herself as alert as she was able with his hand around her throat.

Then he let go. She took a shallow, shaky breath, and held it while she listened to his words. Her eyes fixed on his lips while they moved, reading whatever her mind couldn't decipher audibly to be certain she heard every word. His accusing tone stung, and filled her with fear, but this fear was quickly blurred with confusion. Them? Pictures? She had filled the report, but hadn't actually told the police anything.

He doesn't know.
He's right here, he'll find out if you don't tell him, and it'll be worse.
HE DOESN'T KNOW

Taylor gave a sharp cry of pain as the belt snapped through her thoughts. Her eyes snapped shut and she flinched back instinctively, which only allowed him to tug harder at her hair, pulling her close to him. She looked into his eyes, and felt all of her panic, uncertainty, and fear at once.

"The police," she said, without hesitation. "But I- I haven't told them anything yet, I went in to file a report yesterday and I couldn't do it so I brought the paperwork with me, it's- it's in my bag." Tears had begun to flow as she spoke, and now they ran freely down her cheeks as she realized that she had just given up her last chance of getting out of this.

Fear pulsed through Madison's veins, and his gaze served as the IV. She let out a muffled yelp as the belt laid another lash across her bust. His voice cut through the crack of the leather- "No."

Her body had begun to relax, perhaps simply accepting her fate for tonight. Now, those muscles tensed- coiled and prepared to flee. Her back straightened, hips shifted, and his cock nestled against her upper wall. A groan slipped from between the plug and her lips, and humiliation rushed through Madison, pushing any feelings of fear to the side so it could make its way to her cheeks and the tips of her ears in a bright red flush. His words only encouraged this. She dropped her dress around her hips and pressed her hands firmly against his chest. Her eyes held shut as if they could stop the tears that welled and raced down her cheeks.

Madison's mind swirled with the sound of his voice. Shame twisted through her stomach, her heart, and her throat as he spoke, and she found herself nodding along. As the leash tightened, her doubts dropped away again.

It will be okay. It will all be okay... Just hold on. A little longer.

She raised her head, let her eyes open again, and blinked away her remaining tears. Viktor's eyes seem to have never left her, and this sent a shiver down her spine. Madison did not care to know whether this shiver was from fear or pleasure.

"Yes, Tati," she mumbled through the plug. The tremble in her voice had dropped to a small shiver.

Her hands slipped back to her thighs, bunching the dress in her fists but otherwise leaving it there.
 
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