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Tassu
Bloodthirsty Sadist
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2020
Hello and welcome. ^_^
Please have some refreshments while you are here. This might take a while.
What I seek
I am seeking for someone eager to write submissive character(s) in a long term(ish) plot-driven stories using DM’s or threads here. By long term I mean a scene that takes roughly 2-3 months to wrap up with both players posting 3-5 times a week. Ideally, the story should also have a concrete well defined end point - I haven't had much luck with open ended stories. By the story being plot-drive I mean that even if we are here to write smut, I would want the story to be the motivation for the character interaction. I expect to write 600 to 800 words per post and you to match that.
If you reach out to me, please tell me which of my plots you’d like to write out (or offer your own plot bunny) as well as give me a rough idea on what sort of kinks you’d like to include. I am usually more than happy to entertain those writing with me as my own tastes are wide and varied.
About me
I am in my late 30's and I have been roleplaying longer than I care to admit. I have been GM-ing non-smutty forum games for a good while, so I have a fair bit of experience with writing and world-building as well as playing a wide variety of characters. I have also done thousands of pages of one-on-one roleplay. That said, I am not a native writer, in case that is a non-starter. While I would love to promise everyone a riveting story that keeps them at the edge of their seats, in reality chemistry is a fickle thing and sometimes people just do not click. Because of this, I prefer to chatter a bit with my potential partners before diving head first into the scene.
Unsurprisingly, I lean heavily on the dominant side, preferring to play into submissive female characters. That said, I don't really like 'bimbos' or characters that flop down the moment someone scowls at them. I would highly prefer the submissive character to have spine, guts and fire in their eyes. I want to see their determination and their confidence. I want to see the fear and despair in their eyes when they are eventually overcome. I want to hear how they gasp or moan when they are touched. I want to see how they shudder and tremble, I want to see and hear how characters eventually come apart and yield.
You can find my f-list here. I can play and enjoy playing anything from a sweet and caring owner/top to a brutal abuser, so you get to pick your poison, so to speak. My kinks are mainly the dynamics and how characters react to a given situation - and how those dynamics might change as time passes. The journey is more important than the destination, so to speak. I prefer to write in 3rd person, but I can work with 1st as well.
Should something get in the way of writing, I will let you know. Should I happen to lose interest or my muse, I will also let you know. I generally hate to leave people hanging. You can also expect clear and concise OOC communication from me and I pretty much expect the same from you.
For a non-smut writing example, see
Settings and fandoms
However, I only really enjoy fantasy ans historical settings as I enjoy world building alongside role-playing and that is a bit hard to achieve in a scene taking place in the real world. Alas, modern stories are not my thing. There are few canon settings I am willing to dive into, such as Kushiel's Dart, Legend of the Five Rings and Wheel of Time.
Plot bunnies
Here we go. These are all a bit vague on purpose - I want my partner to be able to bring something to the story if they so desire.
Sacred and Profane
Your character is a nun or priestess either struggling with her pious way of life. Turns out that the priest (MC) she is turning for help is abusive or faithless himself, leading her into a wicked and taboo relationship that slowly erodes her confidence and sense of self - or alternatively turns her into an obedient little pet.
The Beast
Your character is either a witch trying to help a young man with lycanthropy (MC) or a hunter seeking to slay the beast. Either way, as the full moon rises and the beast awakens, YC finds herself at the mercy of a monster. Will she welcome the beast, allowing herself to be dragged into a world of depravity or will she try to fight him, only to become his plaything?
The Fall
Your character is an adventurer, either novice or master of her art. Taking up an assignment regarding a several young women gone missing, she infiltrates a local cult thriving in the shadows. My character is the charismatic cult leader that either turns YC into his plaything or corrupts her, turning her into his most trusted lieutenant.
The Bargain
Your character, daughter of wealthy and influential noble family finds herself sold into indentured servitude to pay of the debts her family has accrued. There are two ways I see this going. Either MC turns YC into perfect little prostitute or his personal little pet. Either way your character has to forget what she was and learn to embrace her new life.
Please have some refreshments while you are here. This might take a while.
What I seek
I am seeking for someone eager to write submissive character(s) in a long term(ish) plot-driven stories using DM’s or threads here. By long term I mean a scene that takes roughly 2-3 months to wrap up with both players posting 3-5 times a week. Ideally, the story should also have a concrete well defined end point - I haven't had much luck with open ended stories. By the story being plot-drive I mean that even if we are here to write smut, I would want the story to be the motivation for the character interaction. I expect to write 600 to 800 words per post and you to match that.
If you reach out to me, please tell me which of my plots you’d like to write out (or offer your own plot bunny) as well as give me a rough idea on what sort of kinks you’d like to include. I am usually more than happy to entertain those writing with me as my own tastes are wide and varied.
About me
I am in my late 30's and I have been roleplaying longer than I care to admit. I have been GM-ing non-smutty forum games for a good while, so I have a fair bit of experience with writing and world-building as well as playing a wide variety of characters. I have also done thousands of pages of one-on-one roleplay. That said, I am not a native writer, in case that is a non-starter. While I would love to promise everyone a riveting story that keeps them at the edge of their seats, in reality chemistry is a fickle thing and sometimes people just do not click. Because of this, I prefer to chatter a bit with my potential partners before diving head first into the scene.
Unsurprisingly, I lean heavily on the dominant side, preferring to play into submissive female characters. That said, I don't really like 'bimbos' or characters that flop down the moment someone scowls at them. I would highly prefer the submissive character to have spine, guts and fire in their eyes. I want to see their determination and their confidence. I want to see the fear and despair in their eyes when they are eventually overcome. I want to hear how they gasp or moan when they are touched. I want to see how they shudder and tremble, I want to see and hear how characters eventually come apart and yield.
You can find my f-list here. I can play and enjoy playing anything from a sweet and caring owner/top to a brutal abuser, so you get to pick your poison, so to speak. My kinks are mainly the dynamics and how characters react to a given situation - and how those dynamics might change as time passes. The journey is more important than the destination, so to speak. I prefer to write in 3rd person, but I can work with 1st as well.
Should something get in the way of writing, I will let you know. Should I happen to lose interest or my muse, I will also let you know. I generally hate to leave people hanging. You can also expect clear and concise OOC communication from me and I pretty much expect the same from you.
For a non-smut writing example, see
The lands surrounding the Hawthorn manor were as miserable as the manor itself, the few small villages they had passed had been wretched, the small shovels in a state of disrepair. The fields surrounding the hamlets were soggy and desolate, the harvest long past. Oil lanterns clung above the doors of what Elizabeth could only assume to be taverns, dim yellow light visible through the foggy windows. Largest of the villages had had an old stone church, its windows dark, the wooden fence surrounding the graveyard fallen into disrepair years ago. The roads were poor, the driver having had to bring the cart to a halt more than once as he navigated the muddy paths that the locals called roads. Miserable as the weather was, there was hardly anyone outside, Elizabeth able to spy only a few of the locals on the roadside, woodcutters heading home judging by the large axes they carried on their shoulders, the burly men as dour as the lands themselves. The driver had murmured something under his breath as she had told him where she wanted to go, but her coin was good and with the unwashed, middle-aged man having no paying customers for the day, had still agreed, though he had reached to clutch his rosary for a moment before opening the door for his passenger.
The gate leading to the manor showed the weather-worn Hawthorn coat of arms, a gules wolf rampant on a field quartered in silver and green. The legends had it that the Hawthorns had been gifted their lands by Edward the third, the first count Hawthorn having been a Scottish turncoat who had raised his banners against Robert the Bruce, seeing a chance to win fame and fortune by siding with the callous regent. The real name of the man and his deeds had been lost to the times, though the locals agreed the old count had been a monster of man - a savage killer who had drenched his hands in the blood of his kin. With such tumultuous times long past and with the Scotland firmly under the English control, few paid attention to such stories, the people living in the ever growing cities more keen on continental matters. The young nobles debated the merits and faults French and German philosophers even as they compared them to the English classics. Works and ideas of Schopenhauer and Hegel clashed with those of Hume and Bentham as the well educated youth sought the moral guidelines for their lives, few of them questioning the power their families held. Here, far away from the fine lounges and opulent smoking rooms, life was still much as it had been for centuries, with most sons learning the trades of their fathers, eventually passing their skills to their sons. Young girls would marry, fall pregnant and have children while tending to the needs of their husbands. In many ways, a journey through the dark woods and slowly dying hamlets was a journey to the past.
A morose looking, slender manservant pushed one of the manor's doors open even Elizabeth climbed the cracked and moss-covered stairs. The scruffy-looking man bowed his head to bid her welcome, his tone mellow. "Welcome miss Lang." She could hear from the man's tone that he was local, no-one quite speaking like him in any of the big cities, his English heavily accented by Scottish even if she could understand every word he uttered. "Count Hawthorn is waiting for you." the servant told Elizabeth, a wry smile dangling on his lips even as he extended his hand to her.. "May I have your coat?" He would hang her travel coat on an iron coat hanger, that stood in the corner of the dim lobby, an old oil chandelier hanging from the soot covered ceiling bathing the room in yellowish light. Despite its gloomy exterior, the manor was kept rather warm, the smell of mold and old wood rushing to wash over Elizabeth as he followed the man-servant in worn green and grey livery, their shoes clacking against the uneven stone floor. The hallways were dimly lit, though this was hardly anything unusual. Lamp oil was expensive even in the cities, only the most affluent families showed their wealth by keeping rooms lit when it wasn't strictly necessary. "Not much longer, miss." the servant would assure her when he thought she was hesitant, turning as if to make sure that she was still following him. "The count and the countess are waiting for you in the library." True to his words, the Hawthorn servant lead Elizabeth a little bit further before pausing at a door, knocking rather hard before pushing the door open to announce her arrival.
Count Hawthorn, clad in dark green coat and matching pants sat on an old armchair, lifting his gaze from a book in his lap as Elizabeth stood at the doorway. "Welcome miss Lang." he beckoned her to enter, his voice low and rough, his accent more refined than that of his manservant, though anyone listening to him could have told that he had grown here. Unlike the lobby and the hallways, the library was well lit, a large chandelier wrought in the shape of an octopus grabbing the lambs dangling above a small table. "We have been waiting for you." A faint smile lingers on his lips, his thick beard making it perhaps a little hard to read his true expression. "Lilian has told me everything about you." Much to her horror, Elizabeth would find her old friend sitting on a pillow by her husband's feet.
The gate leading to the manor showed the weather-worn Hawthorn coat of arms, a gules wolf rampant on a field quartered in silver and green. The legends had it that the Hawthorns had been gifted their lands by Edward the third, the first count Hawthorn having been a Scottish turncoat who had raised his banners against Robert the Bruce, seeing a chance to win fame and fortune by siding with the callous regent. The real name of the man and his deeds had been lost to the times, though the locals agreed the old count had been a monster of man - a savage killer who had drenched his hands in the blood of his kin. With such tumultuous times long past and with the Scotland firmly under the English control, few paid attention to such stories, the people living in the ever growing cities more keen on continental matters. The young nobles debated the merits and faults French and German philosophers even as they compared them to the English classics. Works and ideas of Schopenhauer and Hegel clashed with those of Hume and Bentham as the well educated youth sought the moral guidelines for their lives, few of them questioning the power their families held. Here, far away from the fine lounges and opulent smoking rooms, life was still much as it had been for centuries, with most sons learning the trades of their fathers, eventually passing their skills to their sons. Young girls would marry, fall pregnant and have children while tending to the needs of their husbands. In many ways, a journey through the dark woods and slowly dying hamlets was a journey to the past.
A morose looking, slender manservant pushed one of the manor's doors open even Elizabeth climbed the cracked and moss-covered stairs. The scruffy-looking man bowed his head to bid her welcome, his tone mellow. "Welcome miss Lang." She could hear from the man's tone that he was local, no-one quite speaking like him in any of the big cities, his English heavily accented by Scottish even if she could understand every word he uttered. "Count Hawthorn is waiting for you." the servant told Elizabeth, a wry smile dangling on his lips even as he extended his hand to her.. "May I have your coat?" He would hang her travel coat on an iron coat hanger, that stood in the corner of the dim lobby, an old oil chandelier hanging from the soot covered ceiling bathing the room in yellowish light. Despite its gloomy exterior, the manor was kept rather warm, the smell of mold and old wood rushing to wash over Elizabeth as he followed the man-servant in worn green and grey livery, their shoes clacking against the uneven stone floor. The hallways were dimly lit, though this was hardly anything unusual. Lamp oil was expensive even in the cities, only the most affluent families showed their wealth by keeping rooms lit when it wasn't strictly necessary. "Not much longer, miss." the servant would assure her when he thought she was hesitant, turning as if to make sure that she was still following him. "The count and the countess are waiting for you in the library." True to his words, the Hawthorn servant lead Elizabeth a little bit further before pausing at a door, knocking rather hard before pushing the door open to announce her arrival.
Count Hawthorn, clad in dark green coat and matching pants sat on an old armchair, lifting his gaze from a book in his lap as Elizabeth stood at the doorway. "Welcome miss Lang." he beckoned her to enter, his voice low and rough, his accent more refined than that of his manservant, though anyone listening to him could have told that he had grown here. Unlike the lobby and the hallways, the library was well lit, a large chandelier wrought in the shape of an octopus grabbing the lambs dangling above a small table. "We have been waiting for you." A faint smile lingers on his lips, his thick beard making it perhaps a little hard to read his true expression. "Lilian has told me everything about you." Much to her horror, Elizabeth would find her old friend sitting on a pillow by her husband's feet.
Settings and fandoms
However, I only really enjoy fantasy ans historical settings as I enjoy world building alongside role-playing and that is a bit hard to achieve in a scene taking place in the real world. Alas, modern stories are not my thing. There are few canon settings I am willing to dive into, such as Kushiel's Dart, Legend of the Five Rings and Wheel of Time.
Plot bunnies
Here we go. These are all a bit vague on purpose - I want my partner to be able to bring something to the story if they so desire.
Sacred and Profane
Your character is a nun or priestess either struggling with her pious way of life. Turns out that the priest (MC) she is turning for help is abusive or faithless himself, leading her into a wicked and taboo relationship that slowly erodes her confidence and sense of self - or alternatively turns her into an obedient little pet.
The Beast
Your character is either a witch trying to help a young man with lycanthropy (MC) or a hunter seeking to slay the beast. Either way, as the full moon rises and the beast awakens, YC finds herself at the mercy of a monster. Will she welcome the beast, allowing herself to be dragged into a world of depravity or will she try to fight him, only to become his plaything?
The Fall
Your character is an adventurer, either novice or master of her art. Taking up an assignment regarding a several young women gone missing, she infiltrates a local cult thriving in the shadows. My character is the charismatic cult leader that either turns YC into his plaything or corrupts her, turning her into his most trusted lieutenant.
The Bargain
Your character, daughter of wealthy and influential noble family finds herself sold into indentured servitude to pay of the debts her family has accrued. There are two ways I see this going. Either MC turns YC into perfect little prostitute or his personal little pet. Either way your character has to forget what she was and learn to embrace her new life.
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