Mx Female Sins of a Saint

[Saint Saccharine]

Hey There.


There's a condensed TLDR version of this at the bottom, in case you don't want to read this essay.

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There's a million and ten ways to start something off. A thousand ways to say hello, a thousand ways to say it, and a thousand ways you can furrow your brow, or curl your lip. Unfortunately, none of those translate from the land of flesh and bone, to the stretched out space of ones and zeros. They're little more than words on a screen, lacking inflection and emotion alike. They can be read any way you like, and by reading them differently, you'll find that the vibe, the emotion, the feel of every word that comes after it changes. But, enough about that; unless you're here to explore the wonders of the human mind, and exactly how it works, we have more important things to discuss. I'll tell you who I am, what I do, and how I do it.

I'm a man in his mid-to-late 20's, who has a deep, deep, deep love for writing. I try and write something every single day, even if it's a single paragraph that makes no sense. I like to make things pretty, but between real life, and the constant desire to zone out, and stare at the wall for at least six hours a day, I simply don't have it in me to learn bbcode. So, I do what I can. I put things to the left, the right, sometimes I'll even blur them. Very neat. But that's neither here nor there. I'm a man with no plan, idle hands, and the lay of the land. That brings us to what you and I can stand.

I tend to be verbose (Bet you had no idea, huh?). My posts will more often than not match my partner, but my posts tend to be anywhere from the 800-1500 word range. If a scene calls for less, due to dialogue, sex, fighting, what have you, so be it. If a scene calls for more, you'll find yourself with more. Fun how that works, right? I like detail. I like it to the point that it's almost disgusting. There's never, ever, ever, any such thing as too much detail. And if anyone tells you otherwise, that's their preference and we respect that, but with me, in this house, with these sins? We love detail. I adore detail. The more, the better. And that goes for everything. I don't care if you go on a three paragraph tangent describing a throw-away person that neither of us will ever see again. If anything, I'll love you for it.

My posting frequency is difficult to pin down, even for myself. I'm almost always available for OOC communication, but that doesn't always translate to me being in the proper place, physically or mentally, to write. When I write a post, I like to devote every ounce of attention I have to it. So, it's possible that I won't post for a day, maybe two, three if things aren't going well at all. But that's very rare. Adversely, I can sometimes post several times a day. But it all depends on the story, the partner, the situation. You understand, I'm sure. You're pretty smart. Smart enough to see where this next part's going, at least.

What I like, and what I don't. I like lots of things. I don't dislike many things. It's hard for me to narrow the things that I do like down, but I'll try. I write Doms, and these doms range from Sadists with more apathy than Los Angeles has money, to Daddies who are absolute teddy bears. My favorite though, is the man that rests squarely in the middle. The man that will kiss your forehead while he chokes you. The man that whispers in your ear, and tells you how good you look while you're sobbing. The man that pulls you over his knee, rips an open palm across your ass, and tells you that you need to keep being a brat, because he loves breaking you. And then, when it's all said and done, he pulls you into his arms, brushes your hair behind your ear, and kisses you. He's a good man, deep, deep, deep...deep down. You just need to find him. I like curvier, shorter women. Brats, with plenty to grab onto, and sharp little tongues that cut as well as they lick. I made an F-List, and while it doesn't cover everything, it covers the important things. You can find that here.

Below, I'll lay out a few ideas, a few plots, nothing special. Just things that are floating around in my head that sound good at the time. None of these are set one way or another; so by all means, come to me with suggestions, additions, add-ons, subtractions, multiply it if you're able, divide it if you're brave. What I'm trying to say is, all of these plots are open for discussion. That's all there is to say for now, I suppose. If you enjoy music, send me your favorite song at the moment, and I'll gladly send a couple back. I can listen to, discuss, and discover music for hours on end. So even if we aren't a fit in terms of a story, maybe we're a fit in terms of music.

TLDR

Hey There. How's it going? Weather's nice, huh?
I'm in my 20's, and I like writing. I like it a lot. I hope you do too. I've got a journal. It's kinda odd. I no longer have a journal. Oops.
I write a lot of words sometimes. 800-1500 on average, but it can also depend on what you give me. Detail's pretty cool.
I post sometimes. It can be a couple times a day, or a couple times a week. You know how it goes.
I like writing a Dom character, because I think they're neat, and it's what I like.
I like big butts, and I can't really lie about it. Here's an F-List.
I have some plots below, let me know if you like them. That would be cool.
Send me music or I'll attack my lawyer advised me not to finish that thought.

Sugar Baby Blues

Age-Gap // Apathy // Casual Sex // Slow-Burn

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So, you wanna be a sugar baby? Can't say I blame you. Maybe your friend turned you on to the lifestyle. Maybe seeing her with her sixty (or was he fifty?) year old Sugar Daddy wasn't enough to dissuade you, and now you're writing a profile of your own. Maybe you came to this decision on all your own, realizing you really needed a way to get rid of all that debt. Or maybe? Maybe you were just bored. Maybe you wanted something exciting. Maybe you wanted a life you knew you would never life, if it weren't for some rich schmuck who wants a pretty little thing like you on his arm; and his bed. Whatever the reason, you're here now. But, where's here? Is it Paris? Or was that next week? Oh, you were supposed to see a show on Broadway this weekend, weren't you? Either way, no matter the reason, or the way, you find yourself in a relationship that's mutually beneficial. Everyone wins.

Turns out, maybe this whole Sugar Baby deal is a little harder than you thought. Stand up straight. Quit slouching. Smile for me. Smile again. Look in the camera. Make friends with these women you have nothing in common with. Wear this dress. Wear that dress. Come to bed. Come to bed. Buy yourself something pretty. So on, so forth, until you want to rip your hair out, scream and cry, and tell this disgustingly sexy bag of bones that you hate his fucking guts. Right? Because you do. Let's be real. You hate him. Or maybe you don't. Maybe you have a little crush on him, and you want more. Maybe you like the way he kisses your neck, and the slit between your thighs. Maybe you like the way his cologne smells on your dress, and the way his hand sits on the back of your head, encouraging you to take more. Maybe you fucking love it. Maybe you love him.

Either way, when he looks at you with those eyes, you know you're in for something.

Of House and Home

Ghost // Light To Heavy Horror // Possible Non/Dub Con[/I]
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You did it! You finally bought your dream home; a beautiful seaside cottage, with views of the cliffs, the lighthouse, and the beach, all while only being mere minutes from town. The realtor seemed awfully happy to close the deal, and while you possibly pressed on why the price was so low, she didn't seem to have an answer. She just shrugged, and laughed about how pretty a house it was. And in such a good location, too! So, of course you were giddy to get the keys. The first night was normal, maybe a little scary, but it's never not scary staying in a new house, right? The next morning, a neighbor came over, bearing gifts! He's a delightfully handsome man, and the bread he baked you is absolutely wonderful. Maybe your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked him why the house was so cheap. But, even if you did, you wouldn't get your answer from him. He would pardon himself, and tell you it was nice to meet you.

Night fell, and you found yourself staring out the window, watching sea spray crash across the rocks, vanishing against the abyssal backdrop of a starry sky. That's when you heard it. The floorboards began to creak, a door on the second floor slammed, and a crash of shattered glass. Before you know it, he's there. Staring back at you from the hall. He doesn't look like any man you've ever seen. Something tells you he isn't even actually there. But that doesn't stop you from tugging your robe a little tighter around yourself, and asking what he's doing in your home.

Your home? You mean his home.

Straight A Student

Teacher // Student // Secrecy​

It all started with a simple question. You asked if there was anything you could do to bring your grade up a little, because your parents have been on your ass about it lately. Something about getting into a good school, or something like that. Your teacher looked at you, thought for a moment, clicked around on his computer for a few seconds, hmm'd in thought, and then told you that if you came back around after the final bell, he might have something for you. So, you did that very thing. Maybe you told your friends, and they laughed, saying he was totally going to try and do something with you. Maybe you rolled your eyes, and told them they were dumb. Either way, when you walked into his classroom, and sat at your desk, you realized that maybe there was more to this whole Extra Credit thing than you realized. Maybe he slipped you his number, telling you that he could give you some private tutoring. Maybe he circled your desk, rubbed your shoulders, and asked just how badly you wanted that grade. Or maybe, he dropped a packet on your desk, and told you that it was due by the end of the semester, completely missing the glint in your eye, and the way your legs spread under the desk, just right.

Or maybe, you're not even the student. Maybe you're the teacher, a few years out of college, teaching your subject of choice. Your classes are always well behaved, and attentive. You enjoy your job, and you get a real sense of fulfillment out of seeing your students learn. But of course, that was bound to change. Maybe a student comes up to you after class, and tells you he needs to bring his grades up, or coach won't let him play this year. Maybe he tells you that he wants to learn more from you, because he can't get enough of your cl(ass). Maybe you're receptive to it. Maybe you've had your eye on him for awhile, sinking back into a teenage crush that you've been doing your best to ignore. Or maybe, you see this as an opportunity that you could take. Maybe one thing leads to another, and you're driving that same student back to your house, where you'll drink wine, and go down on him, only to go back to being the perfect teacher the next day, while he sits in the front row.

As long as they bring their grades up, right?​

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Pairings/Ideas/Wordbank
In no specific order
Come at me with ideas

Knight X Queen ||
Convenience Store Employees || Teachers |
Hitman X Target || Android X Creator || Warlord X Princess
Cop X Cop || Detective X Perp || King X Commoner
Boss X Employee || Pornstar X Pornstar || Mage X Apprentice
Demon X Summoner || Hunter X Hunted || Blind Date




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