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Lonely Secrets
Moon
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2023
Me, in Brief
I'm an experienced male role player in my late thirties. I'm looking to RP exclusively with female characters. I've been a regular around these parts before, but after a mental-health related absence I've decided to return with a fresh account.
I've organized this thread to lead with who I am and what I'm about. If that doesn't work for you and you'd like to see my kinks & my specifics plots and pairings just scroll down a bit.
What I Offer
Some highlights, if it's not on this list just ask!
I'm putting these first because I find this is what people are really looking for. I'm happy to mix and match 'em. These aren't necessarily meant to be inclusive of all the things that interest me, you should think of them as as just some potential starting points. I will update this section as more inspiration comes to me, and please do come at me with your own concepts and ideas!
I'm an experienced male role player in my late thirties. I'm looking to RP exclusively with female characters. I've been a regular around these parts before, but after a mental-health related absence I've decided to return with a fresh account.
I've organized this thread to lead with who I am and what I'm about. If that doesn't work for you and you'd like to see my kinks & my specifics plots and pairings just scroll down a bit.
What I Offer
- Partnership: For me, RP at its best is like improv jazz. We'll riff off of one another, and while at any given moment one of use may be taking the lead, both of us are bringing something to the table. Ultimately it's a partnership between equals, and that's what I offer.
- Literacy. I don't want to like pin myself down to some arbitrary literacy level, so I'll say this: I typically post four to six meaty paragraphs. I tend toward detail but I'm not like masturbatory about it; you won't get six sentences of thesaurus words about my character's cerulean orbs. Rather I prefer to judiciously offer details that seek to make the imagined moments more concrete. I also like to linger in my characters' heads, exploring their thoughts and feelings. Especially during sex scenes it's fun to explore the mental and emotional side of our characters' connection. I also enjoy playing with time, employing narrative techniques like flashbacks and flash-forwards, parallel narrations, that sort of thing.
- Presence: I am on the West Coast of the United States, and I'm available most weekdays and some weekends. I typically won't go more than a couple of days without replying. If something comes up and it's going to be more than that I'll try and be proactive and let you know, I don't want to leave you hanging. I'll also let you know if something isn't working for me, or if I feel like our play has just run out of steam. That being said I'm ghost friendly; we all have our own shit going on and I'm the last to judge anyone.
- Communication: I think it's good to keep the out-of-character lines of communication open, just to make sure we're on the same page.
- Respect: I am totally OK with the word "no." It's important to me that both of us enjoy the RP, otherwise what is the point? You can also expect me to ask for consent when it comes to the smutty stuff; while most of us have our kinks and limits I'll certainly be asking if there's something your lists don't include before I introduce it to the RP.
- Dominance: Not OOC of course! But my characters tend to lean toward the dominant side of the spectrum. That said, I prefer the stern-but-loving Daddy-dom archetype to the cocky, brutish type.
- In terms of the ol' plot/smut ratio, what I'm seeking are Smutty Stories. What I mean by that is all of our RP will be centered around a sexual relationship between one (or more?) characters. But that relationship is happening in the context of a broader story. The story could be world-shaking events in a fantasy setting, or it could be about the crew of a seemingly doomed interstellar voyage. Or it could just be about a failing marriage or an office affair. The point is that there is a story happening and we are going to explore it, in no small part via our characters and their sexual interactions.
- I love to RP characters who share Intense Chemistry: I want our characters to be almost completely unable to keep their hands off of one another. Smoldering looks that send the space between them aflame. Obsessive thoughts that occupy their minds when parted. Maybe they're soulmates, or maybe the sex is just that damn good. Regardless, that's the kind of thing I want to develop.
- I think it's very important for my partner and I to have Good Communication. We don't have to be best buddies or anything (though I'm perfectly friendly and happy to kibitz OOC), but we do have to be able to talk through scenes to keep our RP working.
- I am a writer who enjoys Lingering on Details: I'm not going to hold you to some paragraph or word limit. But detail is what helps me get into the story. I'd say my typical post ranges from 500 to 1200+ words.
- I think Forbidden Fruit tastes sweetest. I enjoy having taboo themes in RP. Anything from adultery to age-play to power dynamics to incest.
- I very much love Bratty Subs. The shy, naive submissive doesn't do much for me. I'm much more into the kind of sub who loves provoking my character into showing her where (and to whom) she belongs.
- I'd really like to find a partner to stick with for the Long Term: Hey, a boy can dream, right? While I recognize that as often as not RP fizzles, I'd certainly love it if I could find a partner with whom to craft a longer-term story with the attendant ups and downs and complications and plot twists and challenges.
- I have a modest preference for playing on-site. That being said I do have a discord account, feel free to ask me for it.
- I write in third person, past tense. I'm flexible on this one however, it's just my default.
- I use graphic language when describing sex acts. If your preference is to use flowery euphemisms I do not think we will be compatible.
- I don't like to do fandom RP, sorry. I prefer original characters. I'm open to canon settings, but only if you're willing to relatively de-emphasize them.
Some highlights, if it's not on this list just ask!
- In Dom/Sub terms I lean dominant.
- As I mentioned, I am not a fan of shy submissives. I like brats!
- I also do not mind at all if a bratty sub does a little topping from the bottom.
- I don't do non-con, sorry. Dub-con is very situational and is also usually a pass for me.
- I enjoy portraying rough sex
- Think: slapping (face, ass, breasts, wherever), hair pulling, scratching, nipping/biting, choking.
- My limit here is probably anything that would cause outright injury: blows with closed fists, drawing more than a trickle of blood, things like that.
- I enjoy age and size differences, with my character being older/larger.
- I like dirty talk, using pet names, things like that.
- I like it when my character is called "Daddy."
- I also love father/daughter incest, though I recognize that's not everyone's particular sip of whisky.
- I love pain sluts. It's not that he wants to hurt her, it's that she wants it so bad and he just can't tell her no.
I'm putting these first because I find this is what people are really looking for. I'm happy to mix and match 'em. These aren't necessarily meant to be inclusive of all the things that interest me, you should think of them as as just some potential starting points. I will update this section as more inspiration comes to me, and please do come at me with your own concepts and ideas!
- Corruption/Awakening: The obvious direction is an older, more experienced man taking a younger partner and molding her to his preferences. But does it have to be so nefarious? Perhaps she's getting something out of it, learning just how much power her sexual allure has over him and others. Or perhaps the roles are reversed, with the younger woman awakening a dominant side in her lover that he's never been aware of.
- If you're open to playing more than one character, I'd love to play a variant of this where a young vixen is corrupting both my character and his daughter, playing a twisted game as she manipulates them into an incestuous affair. Would especially love it if the vixen in question was his wife / her mother.
- An Affair: So what if he's got a wedding ring, that's not going to stop her. In fact, that's part of the thrill.
- This can be taken any number of directions: the stereotypical boss/secretary relationship, a daughter living out her Electra complex, that sort of thing. The emphasis though is on my character being claimed by another woman.
- Would very much enjoy this incorporating themes of rivalry, with the affair partner being explicit about desiring to replace his current partner.
- This can be taken any number of directions: the stereotypical boss/secretary relationship, a daughter living out her Electra complex, that sort of thing. The emphasis though is on my character being claimed by another woman.
- Pygmalion: A wealthy man takes in a wayward younger woman. To the world she presents as an adopted daughter, someone he's taken pity on. Behind closed doors? She's very keen on making her adopted father her new Daddy.
- Cuckqueen: A married couple, where the wife gets off on her husband sleeping with other women. She goes so far as to serve them up for him, and sometimes really enjoys watching.
- Would love to combine this with the above corruption plot; with my character's wife conspiring with their daughter to seduce him.
The message--and more importantly its meaning--had been received.
William often spent the afternoons before dinner dealing with correspondence. One of the rooms of the apartment given over to his use served as an office, and his ever-loyal seneschal and secretary Gerard had already sorted them into three categories: those relevant to his modest holdings in Halton, those relevant to his unofficial and largely unknown role as King Harold's spymaster, and those that were personal. Among the latter were a note from his eldest son, presently squiring to Duke Robert of Surrey. And, of course, the note from Princess Yvette.
His personal correspondences were always put off until he was through with the more official missives, and it wasn't until after Gerard had poured him a cup of wine that he'd gone ahead and read through them. And when he came to Yvette's letter, he was momentarily grateful that Gerard's discretion was beyond reproach. By the staid standards of the Calderi people, her final words were downright scandalous. "... Since leaving the palace, I have been a flower wilting without the sun. If you are there upon my return, surely I will feel its warmth again." William's eyes widened at the brazenness of her words, which were then exceeded by the outline of her plush lips on the paper, and of course the small charm. He picked it up between thumb and forefinger, rubbing the lace between them as his lips curled into a faint smile.
He'd be lying if he claimed to feel no sense of delight at the way it felt between his fingers. Lying as well, if he said he was surprised. After all, this was but the latest of a series of small things she'd left for him to find. Though a Calderi man through and through he was no provincial, in his role understanding the customs of other kingdoms was a necessity and he'd spent quite some time indeed brushing up on the finer points of Rhiannon etiquette in preparations for the marriage negotiations that had brought Yvette here.
The question, of course, was what to do about them.
The sensible--not to mention safest--thing to do was to ignore them of course. Yvette was now a Princess of Calder, married to Crown Prince Phillip and intended to produce the heir to a dynasty that had sat on the throne for nearly two centuries. Spymaster or no, her evident infatuation with him could be quite dangerous. All the more dangerous if he acknowledged it. And were he to encourage her infatuation? Or embrace it? Then it could turn deadly.
And yet he had encouraged her. Subtle flirtation and innuendo were not arts reserved solely to the Rhiannon, even a Calderi man could master them given time, as he'd demonstrated during some of their conversations. And so he sat in his office, sipping wine and absently handling the garter charm as the setting sun finally broke through the clouds that had plagued them for the previous two days, his eyes drifting once again to the impression of her lips on the paper.
An hour later he was taking dinner with some close friends when word of Yvette's return reached him. He hadn't had his people watching for her particularly, rather it was simply custom for them to notify him of the comings and goings of all the royal principals. After he was done with his meal it was simple enough to confirm she was in her chambers, alone, with the only person likely to pay her a call there after dark a day's ride away.
The palace was honeycombed with side passages. Some were the result of generations of building, as architects and craftsmen layered new parts of the palace onto the old. Others were there for servants to move about unobserved. Still others were deliberate secrets, made for spies to ply their illicit trade, or--as was the one that brought him into her sitting room--provided as means of escape, should the need arise. Given the circumstances, he felt it appropriate that no one mark him visiting the Princess that evening.
With the passage shut behind him and once more invisible unless one knew how to spot it, he moved from the sitting room to the antechamber, turned to admire some art, which meant that his back was to the sitting room should she emerge without clothes. When he'd entered he could hear faintly the sound of water splashing as she took her bath, and it was difficult indeed not to imagine it lapping at her pale flesh. But now, the splashing had gone silent. For what seemed like the dozenth time he questioned himself. This is madness. What is it you think you're doing?
The answer had been the same every time and it took the form of her lips on the page and the small garter he was again holding between his fingertips, tucked into his coat pocket.
William often spent the afternoons before dinner dealing with correspondence. One of the rooms of the apartment given over to his use served as an office, and his ever-loyal seneschal and secretary Gerard had already sorted them into three categories: those relevant to his modest holdings in Halton, those relevant to his unofficial and largely unknown role as King Harold's spymaster, and those that were personal. Among the latter were a note from his eldest son, presently squiring to Duke Robert of Surrey. And, of course, the note from Princess Yvette.
His personal correspondences were always put off until he was through with the more official missives, and it wasn't until after Gerard had poured him a cup of wine that he'd gone ahead and read through them. And when he came to Yvette's letter, he was momentarily grateful that Gerard's discretion was beyond reproach. By the staid standards of the Calderi people, her final words were downright scandalous. "... Since leaving the palace, I have been a flower wilting without the sun. If you are there upon my return, surely I will feel its warmth again." William's eyes widened at the brazenness of her words, which were then exceeded by the outline of her plush lips on the paper, and of course the small charm. He picked it up between thumb and forefinger, rubbing the lace between them as his lips curled into a faint smile.
He'd be lying if he claimed to feel no sense of delight at the way it felt between his fingers. Lying as well, if he said he was surprised. After all, this was but the latest of a series of small things she'd left for him to find. Though a Calderi man through and through he was no provincial, in his role understanding the customs of other kingdoms was a necessity and he'd spent quite some time indeed brushing up on the finer points of Rhiannon etiquette in preparations for the marriage negotiations that had brought Yvette here.
The question, of course, was what to do about them.
The sensible--not to mention safest--thing to do was to ignore them of course. Yvette was now a Princess of Calder, married to Crown Prince Phillip and intended to produce the heir to a dynasty that had sat on the throne for nearly two centuries. Spymaster or no, her evident infatuation with him could be quite dangerous. All the more dangerous if he acknowledged it. And were he to encourage her infatuation? Or embrace it? Then it could turn deadly.
And yet he had encouraged her. Subtle flirtation and innuendo were not arts reserved solely to the Rhiannon, even a Calderi man could master them given time, as he'd demonstrated during some of their conversations. And so he sat in his office, sipping wine and absently handling the garter charm as the setting sun finally broke through the clouds that had plagued them for the previous two days, his eyes drifting once again to the impression of her lips on the paper.
An hour later he was taking dinner with some close friends when word of Yvette's return reached him. He hadn't had his people watching for her particularly, rather it was simply custom for them to notify him of the comings and goings of all the royal principals. After he was done with his meal it was simple enough to confirm she was in her chambers, alone, with the only person likely to pay her a call there after dark a day's ride away.
The palace was honeycombed with side passages. Some were the result of generations of building, as architects and craftsmen layered new parts of the palace onto the old. Others were there for servants to move about unobserved. Still others were deliberate secrets, made for spies to ply their illicit trade, or--as was the one that brought him into her sitting room--provided as means of escape, should the need arise. Given the circumstances, he felt it appropriate that no one mark him visiting the Princess that evening.
With the passage shut behind him and once more invisible unless one knew how to spot it, he moved from the sitting room to the antechamber, turned to admire some art, which meant that his back was to the sitting room should she emerge without clothes. When he'd entered he could hear faintly the sound of water splashing as she took her bath, and it was difficult indeed not to imagine it lapping at her pale flesh. But now, the splashing had gone silent. For what seemed like the dozenth time he questioned himself. This is madness. What is it you think you're doing?
The answer had been the same every time and it took the form of her lips on the page and the small garter he was again holding between his fingertips, tucked into his coat pocket.
Had Sloane whimpered meekly in the face of his sudden strength and aggression he would have been deeply disappointed. That wouldn't have stopped him from venting his sexual frustration on her of course--his cock was already throbbing painfully--but once he'd taken his pleasure from her it would have been the end of things. After all, meek submission to his will was something he could find almost effortlessly. Any number of household slaves would happily bend over or fall to their knees mouth open for the Master's cock. Nearly as numerous were the noblewomen who would all but debase themselves in exchange for proximity to his rising power. At their last encounter, the Lady Lucia--perhap sensing his waning ardor--had bent forward over a divan, reaching behind her to spread her cheeks wide. You can fuck my ass, if you want, she'd offered, as if hoping it would keep his interest.
Of course it hadn't. Marcus hadn't wanted Lucia to simply acquiesce to him taking her, ass or otherwise. He wanted her to demand it. To need it. To need him: his touch, his lips, his cock, his cum. Lucia had thought it sufficient to offer up her body for him to use for his pleasure. One could only imagine the combination of shame and rage she'd feel, to know that a lowly foreign slave had managed to attract Marcus in a way she hadn't.
Sloane couldn't see it because he was behind her, but her answer brought a wicked grin to his face. The idea of the lovely slave's face buried between another woman's thighs excited him. Of course had he known that the juicy pussy he might yet taste on her lips was his own daughter's he might have felt otherwise. Or perhaps not... To use a metaphor that wouldn't exist for a few millenia, Sloane was pulling him down the rabbit hole with him. And the rabbit hole was deep indeed...
"You are a greedy little slut, aren't you?" He'd leaned over her so that his mouth was close to her ear, she'd almost be able to feel his breath as he growled the words. With his free hand he was pulling at her dress, hiking it upward to expose the curve of her bare ass. A moment later he struck her, a full armed blow that sent a sharp crack echoing through the room. For just a moment he caressed the reddening flesh where he'd struck her, then he lifted his hand and delivered another stinging blow.
"Why should I care what it is you need, little one?" he growled. His hand moved from her ass, going between her thighs to stroke her hot little pussy. As he did he used his grip in her hair to maneuver her head slightly, tilting it to expose the back of her neck. She'd feel the brush of his lips, and then the sharpness of his teeth against her skin. "Tell me why I shouldn't just fuck this little cunt and then send you on your way?"
Of course it hadn't. Marcus hadn't wanted Lucia to simply acquiesce to him taking her, ass or otherwise. He wanted her to demand it. To need it. To need him: his touch, his lips, his cock, his cum. Lucia had thought it sufficient to offer up her body for him to use for his pleasure. One could only imagine the combination of shame and rage she'd feel, to know that a lowly foreign slave had managed to attract Marcus in a way she hadn't.
Sloane couldn't see it because he was behind her, but her answer brought a wicked grin to his face. The idea of the lovely slave's face buried between another woman's thighs excited him. Of course had he known that the juicy pussy he might yet taste on her lips was his own daughter's he might have felt otherwise. Or perhaps not... To use a metaphor that wouldn't exist for a few millenia, Sloane was pulling him down the rabbit hole with him. And the rabbit hole was deep indeed...
"You are a greedy little slut, aren't you?" He'd leaned over her so that his mouth was close to her ear, she'd almost be able to feel his breath as he growled the words. With his free hand he was pulling at her dress, hiking it upward to expose the curve of her bare ass. A moment later he struck her, a full armed blow that sent a sharp crack echoing through the room. For just a moment he caressed the reddening flesh where he'd struck her, then he lifted his hand and delivered another stinging blow.
"Why should I care what it is you need, little one?" he growled. His hand moved from her ass, going between her thighs to stroke her hot little pussy. As he did he used his grip in her hair to maneuver her head slightly, tilting it to expose the back of her neck. She'd feel the brush of his lips, and then the sharpness of his teeth against her skin. "Tell me why I shouldn't just fuck this little cunt and then send you on your way?"
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