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Sekah
Star
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2021
- Location
- Your mom's house.
MOST WANTED
QUEEN & CONSORT [DOM F WANTED]
There are many other races in the Three Worlds, but Crow has never found any that were like himself: shifters who flew. Only one race is known to do that: the Fell; predators who feed on groundlings, destroying their cities and towns, eating the inhabitants, stealing their clothes and possessions, and moving on.
Crow knows he isn't a Fell.
As for what he really is? Trying to find out has gotten him into worse trouble than anything else in his short, miserable life. He's done looking.
Until one day, out of the blue, the truth finds him.
He's a Raksura; more specifically, a Raksuran consort: a fertile male, the only Raksura capable of breeding with a queen. Consorts are supposed to be delicate, sheltered, shy creatures brokered in alliances and never straying far from their home court. A feral one is nearly unheard of - he's automatically presumed to have committed a great and terrible crime, to have been banished. A queen takes him in, then, not out of mercy, or any desire to breed him and further her line, but out of a feeling that a Raksuran consort shouldn't be out here alone, and after all, he's awfully pretty, and indulgently helpless. There are multiple queens in any court, all gathered under the Reigning Queen. Crow is an unwanted, strange oddity, titillated over, a unique fascination, for all the court, men and women who make up the sterile warriors and the fertile but flightless arbora.
Will he sink or swim in a world of politics when last week, it was a struggle just to find shelter and food?
ALTERNATE VERSION OF THAT PLOT:
Taiga is a bratty consort, grown up pampered and spoiled in a court.
But the time has come. A foreign queen is here to solidify a trade agreement, and the rumors of the beautiful consort who's just come of age leads her to agree to him as the consort to solidify the deal.
Only one slight problem.
A few weeks before the queen is due to fly in and take him away, Taiga viciously and unwisely insulted a queen come personally to lend her weight behind creating a powerful trade agreement. That queen is one of the rulers of a court fighting an active war - a court known for its viciousness and bloodthirstiness.
The queen, vicious and bloodthirsty herself, can't shake Taiga's insult - or the way his pretty face looked while giving it - from her mind. Now that he's of legal age, she arrives as well, with the intent to either fight the queen who'd laid claim to him and take him in her stead, a time-honored tradition among Raksura, or steal Taiga - a practice that is looked down upon but fairly common, though it can lead to sparking a war between the courts. What's stealing, you ask? Well. In our world, we'd probably call it kidnapping. Taking a consort without his birth queen's and reigning queen's consent, or when already bound to another queen.
Potential Starter
What do you do in your final hours at home? Many consorts talk amongst one another on the proper way to say goodbye, when they leave for their new queen's court. Quiet introspection; hugging friends and leaving lovers; preparing one's body to please the new queen.
All warned stringently against this, which was barricading himself in his room in the bower for consorts of his lineage and ignoring any annoyed, weary attempts to summon him to meals and parties, like Taiga was doing now. The reigning queen had decided for him where he was going, as it was done, and Aurora Sea wasn't the worst of the possible options. A gamely sister queen had been drawn to his loveliness and presumably didn't fear his cutting tongue.
It was true he was lovely, with long, soft golden hair like silk and a face that many thought made him look like a doll, a statue, a painting done in careful repose; in both forms he was distinctly lovely, known for it, a fact that had gone straight to the boy's head. He hadn't had to wait long, upon coming into maturity, for his match. It was all very simple, which is how the worst problems come about. He was mature enough to take a queen, now, and he was taken.
He wanted the process done with.
He heard a knock on the door and simply grunted, refusing to get up from his long stretch on the bed, one ankle over the other, hands interlaced on his chest. His pointed chin was tipped back with a fierce scowl marring it.
A warrior with dark blue scales with a crimson undersheen came in, one of Taiga's favorites, Fig, an occasional lover. "The reigning queen wants you downstairs, looking presentable."
"Does she," Taiga said. He hid the flicker of horror that made his heart flutter in his chest. Was she here, so soon? The queen whose face he couldn't recall? His lips twisted up further, angry with himself over that slight tell.
"Taiga. You can't fight her will on this. It'll be infinitely more embarrassing if you're dragged down there to meet them by a queen."
Taiga growled deep in his throat, but the warrior wasn't moved. He crossed his arms stolidly.
Taiga asked, "And why, pray tell, is it any business of yours what I do?"
He saw it too clearly, that they sent his lover. They'd try a clutch mate next, but Fir and Balsam wouldn't move him anymore than a fucktoy, he'd be pleased to report to them.
"It's not your queen," Fig told him, softly. There was no appealing to better nature with Taiga—only appealing to worse. "It's that queen you insulted, the one who couldn't stop staring at you for the rest of the party."
Taiga finally cracked an almond eye and turned his head. "Her?"
"Yes. Wouldn't you like to come down to see the spectacle?"
Taiga paused briefly, trying to decide whether to be offended by his wheedling, his knuckles turning white. Finally he sat up, graceful and languorous. "Very well. Help me with my toilette, would you?"
He didn't just go down. He submersed in the private consort baths as arbora attendants scattered herbs and petals. They swam about him in little whirls of his body, while he shredded the rose petals to bits as he bathed for something to do with his nervous hands, and tried not to see the gentle indulgence in the arbora's faces.
He rubbed his skin with subtle balms, and had his long hair woven into a braid and inlaid with flowers. He put on fresh clothes, briefly had his claws attended to, and was carefully loaded with jewels. He was the youngest consort of the reigning queen's line, and his time of maturity had been only weeks ago; a net of pearls was placed over his hair, his one pierced ear hung with a fang earring that was gifted by his mother after a successful battle against a vicious enemy who he couldn't remember or name. He painted his face subtly, as was the habit in his court, but slapped the wrist of his attendant, batting away the headdress that would have marked him a member of Midnight Sun.
He lost his family today, and he'd not meet either the upstart bitch who he'd delighted in making squirm or his to-be suitor still in Midnight Sun's regalia.
By the time he had come downstairs, the queen's greetings had already progressed to the point that the queen was laid out in the reception hall before his mother.
The wood of the mountain tree in the cavernous reception hall had been burned deeper black and lighter grays, as was Midnight Sun's tradition, into a beautiful mosaic of a Reigning Queen with her wings spread, the model of so many generations ago her name had been lost, as had the name of the artist. He knew from those who'd visited other courts that they were unique for painting with patterns of burning; most courts carved their art onto the boles of the tree.
His reigning queen Dusk was resplendent, a massive copper-bodied queen with bands of yellow threaded through her coat like an adder; of impressive size and lineage, with more consorts born to her and her consort Mint over the years than she perhaps could remember.
By the time Taiga entered, the feasting was well underway, but one glance at his mother from a private viewport of the reception hall as he walked in gave Taiga the impression that Dusk was contemplating eating this queen, not treating with her.
Taiga was just glad to have a vent for his childish anger at the life he was born to lead.
He walked in with supreme self-possession, folding to his knees and bowing to the queen and her party.
"Taiga, of the line of Dusk and Mint," he heard, and started naming the others of his lineage idly in his head, getting to Midnight Sun themselves as he knelt onto the pillow put out for him with his eyes downcast.
"I think we all know what this is about," Dusk said, sounding a bit like her teeth hurt from smiling.
Taiga slit his eyes up at her, cocking one sculpted brow, because he didn't.
All warned stringently against this, which was barricading himself in his room in the bower for consorts of his lineage and ignoring any annoyed, weary attempts to summon him to meals and parties, like Taiga was doing now. The reigning queen had decided for him where he was going, as it was done, and Aurora Sea wasn't the worst of the possible options. A gamely sister queen had been drawn to his loveliness and presumably didn't fear his cutting tongue.
It was true he was lovely, with long, soft golden hair like silk and a face that many thought made him look like a doll, a statue, a painting done in careful repose; in both forms he was distinctly lovely, known for it, a fact that had gone straight to the boy's head. He hadn't had to wait long, upon coming into maturity, for his match. It was all very simple, which is how the worst problems come about. He was mature enough to take a queen, now, and he was taken.
He wanted the process done with.
He heard a knock on the door and simply grunted, refusing to get up from his long stretch on the bed, one ankle over the other, hands interlaced on his chest. His pointed chin was tipped back with a fierce scowl marring it.
A warrior with dark blue scales with a crimson undersheen came in, one of Taiga's favorites, Fig, an occasional lover. "The reigning queen wants you downstairs, looking presentable."
"Does she," Taiga said. He hid the flicker of horror that made his heart flutter in his chest. Was she here, so soon? The queen whose face he couldn't recall? His lips twisted up further, angry with himself over that slight tell.
"Taiga. You can't fight her will on this. It'll be infinitely more embarrassing if you're dragged down there to meet them by a queen."
Taiga growled deep in his throat, but the warrior wasn't moved. He crossed his arms stolidly.
Taiga asked, "And why, pray tell, is it any business of yours what I do?"
He saw it too clearly, that they sent his lover. They'd try a clutch mate next, but Fir and Balsam wouldn't move him anymore than a fucktoy, he'd be pleased to report to them.
"It's not your queen," Fig told him, softly. There was no appealing to better nature with Taiga—only appealing to worse. "It's that queen you insulted, the one who couldn't stop staring at you for the rest of the party."
Taiga finally cracked an almond eye and turned his head. "Her?"
"Yes. Wouldn't you like to come down to see the spectacle?"
Taiga paused briefly, trying to decide whether to be offended by his wheedling, his knuckles turning white. Finally he sat up, graceful and languorous. "Very well. Help me with my toilette, would you?"
He didn't just go down. He submersed in the private consort baths as arbora attendants scattered herbs and petals. They swam about him in little whirls of his body, while he shredded the rose petals to bits as he bathed for something to do with his nervous hands, and tried not to see the gentle indulgence in the arbora's faces.
He rubbed his skin with subtle balms, and had his long hair woven into a braid and inlaid with flowers. He put on fresh clothes, briefly had his claws attended to, and was carefully loaded with jewels. He was the youngest consort of the reigning queen's line, and his time of maturity had been only weeks ago; a net of pearls was placed over his hair, his one pierced ear hung with a fang earring that was gifted by his mother after a successful battle against a vicious enemy who he couldn't remember or name. He painted his face subtly, as was the habit in his court, but slapped the wrist of his attendant, batting away the headdress that would have marked him a member of Midnight Sun.
He lost his family today, and he'd not meet either the upstart bitch who he'd delighted in making squirm or his to-be suitor still in Midnight Sun's regalia.
By the time he had come downstairs, the queen's greetings had already progressed to the point that the queen was laid out in the reception hall before his mother.
The wood of the mountain tree in the cavernous reception hall had been burned deeper black and lighter grays, as was Midnight Sun's tradition, into a beautiful mosaic of a Reigning Queen with her wings spread, the model of so many generations ago her name had been lost, as had the name of the artist. He knew from those who'd visited other courts that they were unique for painting with patterns of burning; most courts carved their art onto the boles of the tree.
His reigning queen Dusk was resplendent, a massive copper-bodied queen with bands of yellow threaded through her coat like an adder; of impressive size and lineage, with more consorts born to her and her consort Mint over the years than she perhaps could remember.
By the time Taiga entered, the feasting was well underway, but one glance at his mother from a private viewport of the reception hall as he walked in gave Taiga the impression that Dusk was contemplating eating this queen, not treating with her.
Taiga was just glad to have a vent for his childish anger at the life he was born to lead.
He walked in with supreme self-possession, folding to his knees and bowing to the queen and her party.
"Taiga, of the line of Dusk and Mint," he heard, and started naming the others of his lineage idly in his head, getting to Midnight Sun themselves as he knelt onto the pillow put out for him with his eyes downcast.
"I think we all know what this is about," Dusk said, sounding a bit like her teeth hurt from smiling.
Taiga slit his eyes up at her, cocking one sculpted brow, because he didn't.
GENERAL PROMPTS
MATRIARCHAL SOCIETY [DOM F WANTED]
There's a tendency in media that explores matriarchal societies to either make them men's fantasy worlds where tall, ball-busting women kind of all exist as leather dommes that fulfill every subby man's fantasies. I'm not so interested in that. There's also a tendency to view them as some kind of utopia, without war or prejudice, where racism and classism and certainly sexism are cured and mankind joins hands to fulfill a peaceful future. I'm not at all interested in that, either. I'm interested in something far closer to the actual matrilineal societies that have existed and continue to exist in many places today.
Here's an example of how it would look in a modern Western or Westernized society: Femininity is powerful. The positions and ideals of power are feminine. It's a world where when someone thinks who historically rules a country, they think, of course, a queen. A world where every leader of your country since its birth as a nation was a woman, and people debate whether it's time for a man, whether the country's ready for a man. Where men and maleness are casually linked to weakness and eroticism, to beauty and objecthood. Where people think a man who stays at home to watch the children is being a good father, but a woman who does so is compromising her career. Where nobody looks twice at a fit, waxed, attractive man with an overweight, unkempt woman, on TV or in real life, but it's something of a revelation when a larger man even gets a part in a romance, let alone a leading role. Where a male actor will be cast in romantic roles until he's about 28, and then be moved into doddering father or even grandfather roles, whereas a woman in her 60's will still be starring with twenty-year-old men. All of the houses of congress, all three branches of government, nearly every fortune five hundred company has a woman at its helm. When men fight for equal rights, they're told they never faced the draft, even though nobody has faced that for 70 years and when they did, it was women who instated the draft, instigated the war, and controlled all aspects of the battles that were fought, not to mention penalized the draft dodgers.
You can sort of fit this into any patriarchal society mold and come out with what I'm talking about. I've used modern America for the formula, but you can put it anywhere and the shoe will fit. This doesn't have to be on Earth, though I would especially love playing an alternative history where, for one reason or another, women just became socially dominant over men. It could be high fantasy, where we make a new world, maybe even a new species of creature, like the excellent series of novels by Martha Wells, the Raksura Chronicles, starting with the Cloud Roads, which deals with a matriarchal group in which breeding males are objectified, sexualized, and seen as weak and needing protection.
The manga Ooku is a good example of this, and a model for how we could do this: in that manga, a plague called the Red-Faced Pox wiped out 65% or so of the population of men in Japan. This actually has a historical precedent: the black plague disproportionately affected young men in Europe and Asia. The Red-Faced Pox was just so specific to men that it led to a lowering of the men's population in relation to women's. Naturally, the whole world flipped upside down. If sons don't often live to adulthood, daughters by necessity must be the inheritors--and then they're the only inheritors legally allowed. With no men, why would anyone buy women prostitutes? But male prostitutes--many women can't afford to have a husband. There just aren't enough men going around. If you want a kid, you need semen. If you want semen, a prostitute is a very cost-effective solution for the poor. (Also, women in power can commodify sexuality the same as men in power often have.) Honestly, male prostitutes make more sense than women--no risk of pregnancy to stop work for periods. Since everyone is terrified of their sons getting sick, sons aren't put to work, certainly not to hard labor. In only one or two generations, this leads to the social perception that men are too weak and fragile to handle such things, exactly as happened to women historically. Culturally, what people believe is often what is so for us. Then we end up with a world in which men are the ones sold to their wife's families for dowries, and an infertile, poor or ugly husband might be mistreated or even killed (see: bride burnings in India). Men are under constant sexual threat, and socialized not to learn to fight, and afraid of ending up in the brothels. A lot of societal norms we take for granted would be turned on their head, don't you think?
Anyway, I want to explore that. Historical, high fantasy, modern, really any iteration you want to create with me, just a society where the default gender is women, and in which I play one of my boys.
Note: This one will take some real world-building, and a really unique and interesting female character. This one isn't one I'll be fully satisfied with just straight porn, I preference about 70 story / 30 porn for it, and I will be pickier than the others on this list who I write it with. But please, if you're interested, hit me up! I'd love to talk to you about it.
GORILLA PIMP [DOM M OR F WANTED]
Mean old pimp gets his hands on one of my boys, and sells their bodies and their souls by the hour, with brutal retribution for failing to satisfy or not bringing in enough money.
THE CULT [DOM M OR F WANTED]
This could be modern, historical, high fantasy, sci fi, wherever. Just, my character being dragged into a cult. Whether the cult is the state religion and my character can't escape it (think: The Handmaid's Tale), or whether it's a group of crazies isolating their members from real life, cults are fun. Particularly interested in a boy being born and raised in a cult. The cult can be magic or it can be like any abusive fringe religion. It's whatever! Just, cults.
ABUSIVE PARTNER [DOM M OR F WANTED]
Basically any story in which you want to play an abusive dom for my boys is appreciated. Did Gareth cheat on your character? Is Karim an easy victim? Give me your abusive doms and I'll love you forever.
EMPRESS [DOM F WANTED]
A war is being fought at sea, and the Empress of Xishan needs a suitable place to set up camp and move the army through. Lord Taiga Hisoka's seaside holding Whitecliff is the perfect staging ground for the escalating conflict. And so, the entire Imperial Court is being run from his manse, at considerable personal expense, by an Empress who is delighted to remind the young lord who is ruler of this country, and who ... is not.
Random smattering of ideas for this:
—Taiga's nasty letter about the Empress to a lover is intercepted
—Taiga gets his arrogant ass in deep, deep shit
LORD TURNED SLAVE [DOM M OR F WANTED]
In the ruins of this Earth, the City stands tall. It has always been, and it always will be. The lands outside this supernatural city are impoverished, isolated, producing at paces they can't sustain. But they must sustain them, for a dragon must eat as well as a man, and better he eat cattle than human meat for his dinner. To be a slave is to be the ghost of a person. To be a master is to be without limits. And if the humans suffer and die, they reproduce at a rate no other being can match. Rats die soon, too, but there's never any lack of them. And do you really weep when you put out the traps and poison?
The City rules this world, but through the City, Taiga ruled his estate. There are humans who are complicit in the brutality of the City, who aid and abet and make a profit through their sycophancy to the City. Taiga, a young human lord who killed his brothers and their wives and children to ascend to his throne, is one such man. Taiga's brutality and lust for luxury and power led to enemies, which led to a violent climax in which an enemy lord laid siege to his castle, and dragged Taiga out into the ashes of his holdings. Taiga was sold to the City as a pet, to squeeze every last drop of wealth from his former estate, which was incredibly grand for a human's. Taiga is now a slave, and one who dreams of power and prestige.
QUEEN & CONSORT [DOM F WANTED]
There are many other races in the Three Worlds, but Crow has never found any that were like himself: shifters who flew. Only one race is known to do that: the Fell; predators who feed on groundlings, destroying their cities and towns, eating the inhabitants, stealing their clothes and possessions, and moving on.
Crow knows he isn't a Fell.
As for what he really is? Trying to find out has gotten him into worse trouble than anything else in his short, miserable life. He's done looking.
Until one day, out of the blue, the truth finds him.
He's a Raksura; more specifically, a Raksuran consort: a fertile male, the only Raksura capable of breeding with a queen. Consorts are supposed to be delicate, sheltered, shy creatures brokered in alliances and never straying far from their home court. A feral one is nearly unheard of - he's automatically presumed to have committed a great and terrible crime, to have been banished. A queen takes him in, then, not out of mercy, or any desire to breed him and further her line, but out of a feeling that a Raksuran consort shouldn't be out here alone, and after all, he's awfully pretty, and indulgently helpless. There are multiple queens in any court, all gathered under the Reigning Queen. Crow is an unwanted, strange oddity, titillated over, a unique fascination, for all the court, men and women who make up the sterile warriors and the fertile but flightless arbora.
Will he sink or swim in a world of politics when last week, it was a struggle just to find shelter and food?
TUTORING AN ASSHOLE [DOM M OR F WANTED]
YC is an important legacy student with a mother who's the dean of Hana's school and a father who's boss of the place Hana's doing an internship at. Crow loves his little sister Hana—he became the legal caretaker of her when she was ten and he was eighteen. Mostly, he's tried to keep her safe from the life he lives, and where their money comes from—he's a hooker, not a fashion model, as he's told Hana. YC finds out about his double life, illegal as it is, and uses it to blackmail Crow. If YC talks, Crow goes to jail for prostitution. If YC's father is angered, Hana loses her important internship, and maybe faces repercussions at school. Crow allows things to get way out of hand, trying to protect Hana.
THE REIGNING QUEEN [DOM F WANTED]
She is the regnant queen, a term which means she reigns the country without any king by her side. The day-to-day minutia of the country and the court are rarely easy burdens. She's called the Virgin Queen—a term that's put to the test when she finds the presence of one of her young gardeners, Karim Mahmoud Magdi, soothing.
POSSIBLE FACE CLAIMS (Others very welcome!)
PRIYANKA CHOPRA
CATE BLANCHETT
ADELAIDE KANE
CATE BLANCHETT
ADELAIDE KANE
THE SMALL DOMME [DOM F WANTED]
Inspired by Firefly. Tisu Bagci is a human who set out on a colony ship with seed crops and essentials, wanting to start a new life on a new planet. The pirates who raided his ship killed his wife and enslaved him, dragging him heartbroken to the slaver's block. He towers over the race of the world he's sold to, but still wishes he had a chance to see his wife—bury her, at least. A family buys him as a guard for their child (son, daughter, third gender/genderqueer all welcome). What business does a slave have forming a relationship with the young mistress? He doesn't see her as anything but a child, and an arrogant one at that. She wants to change his mind.
[Domme is 16+, as per BMR's rules.]
THIS IS ONE POSSIBLE PROMPT, BUT OTHERS OCCUR TO ME, TOO—JUST A VERY SMALL LADY DOM FOR A VERY BIG MALE SUB!
INSPIRATION IMAGES
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