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Manic Pixie Nightmare
Meteorite
- Joined
- Jan 29, 2022
Oh. Oh, my, it looks like you caught me. Caught me...composing a list of story possibilities for roleplay. Scandalous, I know. Naughty, one might say. But I just can't help myself when I have this overwhelming, insatiable desire to...write. That's right. I'm a language-craving little minx and I need to conjugate all of your verbs.
*Cough* Sorry, got a little carried away there. Welcome to my seeking thread! I hope you find something you like, but before we get into the potential plots, here's the basics about me and what I'm looking for. I'm Pixie (or Pix, or...I mean, I'll answer to all kinds of names), and I'm primarily seeking dominant/submissive scenarios where I play the submissive role. Which is not to say that I play doormats who will just passively parrot whatever your characters say, because that's rarely fun for anyone. I enjoy a mix of non-con and dub-con plots, and at the moment I'm exclusively looking to play via private messages. I prefer to write in third person.
I don't really mark a degree of desired separation between plot and smut, because I think it really depends on the story: some plots could merit tons of character and plot and others vigorously demand to get right to the action. I enjoy stories set in the real world (or at least, a perverse take on it) and in fantasy/sci-fi settings. World-building is fun!
My only hard limits are snuff, vomit and diapers (they just don't do anything for me kink-wise), and extreme gore/mutilation. Some of my favorite kinks include public humiliation (I love this), gangbangs and bukkake, forced clotheswearing (slutty/embarrassing outfits, lingerie, etc), forced body modifications (anything from piercings and tattoos to breast implants), collars and leashes, misogyny (my favorite), forced lesbianism, monsters/inhuman partners, blackmail (yummy), slut-shaming and sexual assault.
And here are all of my plots available at this posting (3/8); I'll update these over time. If you see something you desire, send me a private message and we can talk more! In any event, thank you for reading, and I hope you have a great night.
*Cough* Sorry, got a little carried away there. Welcome to my seeking thread! I hope you find something you like, but before we get into the potential plots, here's the basics about me and what I'm looking for. I'm Pixie (or Pix, or...I mean, I'll answer to all kinds of names), and I'm primarily seeking dominant/submissive scenarios where I play the submissive role. Which is not to say that I play doormats who will just passively parrot whatever your characters say, because that's rarely fun for anyone. I enjoy a mix of non-con and dub-con plots, and at the moment I'm exclusively looking to play via private messages. I prefer to write in third person.
I don't really mark a degree of desired separation between plot and smut, because I think it really depends on the story: some plots could merit tons of character and plot and others vigorously demand to get right to the action. I enjoy stories set in the real world (or at least, a perverse take on it) and in fantasy/sci-fi settings. World-building is fun!
My only hard limits are snuff, vomit and diapers (they just don't do anything for me kink-wise), and extreme gore/mutilation. Some of my favorite kinks include public humiliation (I love this), gangbangs and bukkake, forced clotheswearing (slutty/embarrassing outfits, lingerie, etc), forced body modifications (anything from piercings and tattoos to breast implants), collars and leashes, misogyny (my favorite), forced lesbianism, monsters/inhuman partners, blackmail (yummy), slut-shaming and sexual assault.
And here are all of my plots available at this posting (3/8); I'll update these over time. If you see something you desire, send me a private message and we can talk more! In any event, thank you for reading, and I hope you have a great night.
It's so hard to be a good girl. My character is a college superstar, a straight-A brainiac on her way to being valedictorian. Couldn't ask for a brighter future. She got there the right way, by being a good girl, by following the rules.
And at night, when she thrills herself to the cruelest, most degrading porn she can find, this bespectacled nerd-girl imagines another life entirely.
Then comes the day her family's old neighbors move out and new ones move in. Reclusive ones, with scantily-clad women coming and going at odd hours, and rumors of drugs and wild parties. Trouble, in so many words. More trouble for her, since she catches a glimpse of one of the house's residents and realizes they're the director of her favorite (very) guilty pleasures. The house next door is a porn studio operating just under the radar. Making the kind of movies she's always dreamed of starring in, and experiencing for herself.
She's about to make some very, very bad decisions.
And at night, when she thrills herself to the cruelest, most degrading porn she can find, this bespectacled nerd-girl imagines another life entirely.
Then comes the day her family's old neighbors move out and new ones move in. Reclusive ones, with scantily-clad women coming and going at odd hours, and rumors of drugs and wild parties. Trouble, in so many words. More trouble for her, since she catches a glimpse of one of the house's residents and realizes they're the director of her favorite (very) guilty pleasures. The house next door is a porn studio operating just under the radar. Making the kind of movies she's always dreamed of starring in, and experiencing for herself.
She's about to make some very, very bad decisions.
"You can put on a little show for the hard-working men of the company after work tonight," her blackmailer's note read, "or you can talk to the police tomorrow. Either way I get what I want, but only one choice keeps you out of prison. Choose wisely, slut."
Krysten rose to the top of her class at law school, and then to the top of her own firm, through a policy of unrelenting ruthlessness. Deals were made to be broken, people were made to be stepped on, and underlings were made to be exploited -- or just terrorized for the fun of it. Money and power were all that mattered; she had plenty of both, but an endless hunger for more.
Then she made one little mistake.
The mistake wasn't the money she was embezzling; the mistake was not covering her tracks, forgetting that she had no shortage of enemies who wanted to tear her down from her pedestal and make her wallow in the dirt. Her blackmailer could have destroyed her with a single phone call to the cops, but they had a far darker, and more fitting, fate in mind.
She's going to embrace a new career path, going from the senior partner to the firm's new minimum-wage office girl, demoted and stripped of her power and authority. And behind closed doors, to become their plaything, slave, and stress-relief fucktoy. To go from wearing pantsuits in the boardroom to wearing slutty lingerie while serving drinks, cigars and blowjobs to the men she used to dominate.
And the cruelest part? Only the blackmailer knows the truth. She has to pretend that this was all her idea. That she wants this, needs this, to convince them that she craves all the humiliation and abuse they can pour onto her and smile as she begs for more. Destroying her life isn't enough of a revenge: her blackmailer intends to break her spirit. Utterly.
Krysten rose to the top of her class at law school, and then to the top of her own firm, through a policy of unrelenting ruthlessness. Deals were made to be broken, people were made to be stepped on, and underlings were made to be exploited -- or just terrorized for the fun of it. Money and power were all that mattered; she had plenty of both, but an endless hunger for more.
Then she made one little mistake.
The mistake wasn't the money she was embezzling; the mistake was not covering her tracks, forgetting that she had no shortage of enemies who wanted to tear her down from her pedestal and make her wallow in the dirt. Her blackmailer could have destroyed her with a single phone call to the cops, but they had a far darker, and more fitting, fate in mind.
She's going to embrace a new career path, going from the senior partner to the firm's new minimum-wage office girl, demoted and stripped of her power and authority. And behind closed doors, to become their plaything, slave, and stress-relief fucktoy. To go from wearing pantsuits in the boardroom to wearing slutty lingerie while serving drinks, cigars and blowjobs to the men she used to dominate.
And the cruelest part? Only the blackmailer knows the truth. She has to pretend that this was all her idea. That she wants this, needs this, to convince them that she craves all the humiliation and abuse they can pour onto her and smile as she begs for more. Destroying her life isn't enough of a revenge: her blackmailer intends to break her spirit. Utterly.
There's no doubt that the crown princess is a proud young woman. Haughty, even. (Some would use words like 'imperious,' 'arrogant,' or 'an utter bitch,' just not where she can hear them.)
Few would guess that beneath her callous, cruel demeanor lies a hunger for submission, humiliation and pain that would make a seasoned whore blush. Her fantasies run riot with dreams of collars, leashes and whips, of men's strong hands and leering eyes, of the taste of boot-leather as she crawls like a trained animal.
She dreams of wearing nipple-clamps under her regal robes, and attending parties in scandalous slut-wear while her inferiors mock her. Of kneeling for stable-boys, of rewarding filthy peasants and corpulent merchants with her royal lips and tongue. Of giving herself to gnoll-packs and goblin-tribes for "diplomatic relations," reduced to a groveling slave-bitch.
It's her little secret.
But repressed fantasies have a way of forcing themselves out, don't they? Especially if someone intuits her true nature and sees an opportunity to advance themselves. Turning the next in line to the throne into a devoted slave can only reap long-term rewards, after all...
I'm open as to the nature of the princess's tormentor, though a few ideas suggest themselves: perhaps someone close to her, like a guard, one of her maids, or the daughter of a noble; her father's harem-keeper or dungeon-keeper; or a courtier or merchant (a slaver, even) seeking to curry royal favor.
Few would guess that beneath her callous, cruel demeanor lies a hunger for submission, humiliation and pain that would make a seasoned whore blush. Her fantasies run riot with dreams of collars, leashes and whips, of men's strong hands and leering eyes, of the taste of boot-leather as she crawls like a trained animal.
She dreams of wearing nipple-clamps under her regal robes, and attending parties in scandalous slut-wear while her inferiors mock her. Of kneeling for stable-boys, of rewarding filthy peasants and corpulent merchants with her royal lips and tongue. Of giving herself to gnoll-packs and goblin-tribes for "diplomatic relations," reduced to a groveling slave-bitch.
It's her little secret.
But repressed fantasies have a way of forcing themselves out, don't they? Especially if someone intuits her true nature and sees an opportunity to advance themselves. Turning the next in line to the throne into a devoted slave can only reap long-term rewards, after all...
I'm open as to the nature of the princess's tormentor, though a few ideas suggest themselves: perhaps someone close to her, like a guard, one of her maids, or the daughter of a noble; her father's harem-keeper or dungeon-keeper; or a courtier or merchant (a slaver, even) seeking to curry royal favor.
Students whisper, mostly in envy or awe, of the Wall of Shame. It's a special display of photographs, kept in the frat-house's basement, of some very special ladies. Once per semester, they pick a single candidate, generally from their sister sororities, and break them. They're exploited, forced into compromising positions, recorded and blackmailed, and spend the rest of their academic career as fraternity slave-girls. Serving the brothers as maids, as waitresses, as strippers, as whores. Washing their cars, licking their shoes, and spreading their legs at the snap of a finger. It's a celebration of raw misogyny, of their power -- and the power of their families' money -- to reduce any bright-eyed co-ed to a groveling, pathetic piece of fuck-meat who learns to worship men as gods.
The school's professor of women's studies has spent two years trying to shut the notorious party-house down, and she's all too aware of the Wall of Shame. What nobody realizes -- what she's tried to deny even in her own heart -- are her own secret and starving hungers.
She wants to go up on the wall.
It's a betrayal of everything she believes in, of everything she claims to stand for, but she spends her nights dreaming of surrendering, of kneeling, of offering her body and her soul to the fraternity. And they wouldn't go easy on her. Normally they pick girls who seem vulnerable, ripe for the picking, or just hot; they've never had a slave they truly, genuinely hated, the way they hate her for trying to ruin their fun. They'd probably ruin her life when they were done with her.
And all the same, she hungers.
Maybe it's a slip of the tongue that gives her away. Maybe she finds the courage, one wine-fueled night, to beg for her audition. But she wants this. She needs this. And her destruction is looming.
The school's professor of women's studies has spent two years trying to shut the notorious party-house down, and she's all too aware of the Wall of Shame. What nobody realizes -- what she's tried to deny even in her own heart -- are her own secret and starving hungers.
She wants to go up on the wall.
It's a betrayal of everything she believes in, of everything she claims to stand for, but she spends her nights dreaming of surrendering, of kneeling, of offering her body and her soul to the fraternity. And they wouldn't go easy on her. Normally they pick girls who seem vulnerable, ripe for the picking, or just hot; they've never had a slave they truly, genuinely hated, the way they hate her for trying to ruin their fun. They'd probably ruin her life when they were done with her.
And all the same, she hungers.
Maybe it's a slip of the tongue that gives her away. Maybe she finds the courage, one wine-fueled night, to beg for her audition. But she wants this. She needs this. And her destruction is looming.
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