|
|
-
|
ʜᎥ,
|
?~ (i'm an ethereal being living on the edge of the solar system, using my advanced, 18-dimensional consciousness to write cheap smut on this wonderful website)
?~ (i'm an advanced AI with the sole directive of writing the best annoying girls you'd wanna fuck )
!~ i am also a graphic design student in her early 20s living in the heart of Europa
!~ i've been writing for a while now; i'm pretty good at it
!~ generally like to write desperate girls that get in way over their head
!~ third person; past tense; variable post-length; insatiable bottom
!~ i like funny people; i like some girth; i like all genders and races
!~ 18+ always, all characters
!~ i need big setups; i'm not the kind of girl who can just jump into it
|
|
.ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ Ꭵᴛ; ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ.
|
-
-
|
(assume everything that's not in any column is in the middle one)
|
ʏᴇꜱ, ʙᴀʙʏ! (fav)
anal
getting fingered in public
cum-stuff
mmf
choking
romance/passion
sex in a car
...
|
ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ! (yes)
femdom
con
exhibitionism
clothed sex
rough
marking
bondage
DD/lg
voyeurism
dubcon
watersports
hypnosis
blackmail
...
|
ᴇʜ, ɴᴏ..
incest
noncon
mind control
cuckold
scat
snuff
gore
...
|
-
|
(and if you've found this, throw in a buttplug into your message somewhere)
|
-
Ŧᴀɴᴄʏ Ꭵᴅᴇᴀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛɴᴏᴛꜱ ©
ideas i always wanted to do: (☑ means taken) (bold means craving)
☐ the quiet girl; the popular football player; world where romance cliches do not exist yet
☐ a jaded detective (or PI); a starry-eyed rookie; a dirty NYC street shot in black and white
☐ two wizard freshmen; exploring each other's bodies in the back corner of the library
☐ a guy who just got out of jail returning to his girlfriend that waited (?) for him
☐ my blood elf WoW character; anal in Crystalsong forest
☐ prettiest girl in Manhattan; sucking dick and getting treated horribly
☐ shy virgin girlie meets the local dealer; in two hours, he's snorting coke out of her asshole
☐ bitter post-grad TA; freshman who really needs the extra credits; a locked office |
author
|
-
|
|
ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ-ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀʏ
{ʏᴄ} had built a pretty good life for himself—steady job, nice house, beautiful truck... god, how he loved that truck; it was a damn miracle that he rebuild his life, after his ex-wife (that bitch) left him for some younger asshole and left him with close to nothing.
When he saw the ad, it seemed like on of those bullshit grow-your-dick-at-home type of scam ads, but... something drew him to it. There were no big promises, no flashy colors, just a link to a questionnaire, an email address and a bitcoin wallet—and what's a little human trafficking for a Sunday afternoon?
A month came and went, and nothing happened. {ʏᴄ} started to feel pretty stupid. He got scammed.
Then, he got a text message from. An unknown number, broken English: "my love?" and attached was a listing for a flight from Belgrade.
It had to be a scam—of course it had to be a scam, some asshole was probably rolling around in his bed, legs swinging in the air, gleeful at how much of {ʏᴄ}'s time he wasted.
Still though, a few hours later, he found himself sitting in the arrivals lounge at the local airport, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, on the lookout for a huge camera crew and a moderator smiling from ear to ear. Or, worse, an FBI agent. He must've fallen deep into though, because when someone tapped on his shoulder, he almost screamed. When he turned around, a young woman stood in front of him—early, maybe late 20s, thin, straight hair, those same slavic features he spent hours fantasizing about on XXX forums—a perfect angel.
"Ты {ʏᴄ's name}?" she asked, pronouncing her name with the heaviest, most attractive eastern-European accent.
...
|
This is just a basic twist on one of "those" porn ads. I'm down to either not think about the logistics of this at all and just have fun, or go super deep into a world-spanning conspiracy, blah, blah, blah.
The most important themes are: ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ꜱᴜʙ/ᴅᴏᴍ ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ (ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴏꜰꜰ) and ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ ʙᴀʀʀɪᴇʀ(ꜱ)
|
-
|
ᴀ ʜᴏᴘᴇʟᴇꜱꜱʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɢɪʀʟ ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴇɢᴏ ᴄɪᴛʏ?
{ᴍᴄ}'s always considered herself to be special. She was always pretty smart; skipped a class in elementary school and all that. Didn't have much friends—but who needs friends when you've got the Internet, right—never got much love from boys—but porn exists for a reason—and never quite understood what's wrong with her—but her Internet friends 'got her'.
It all came crashing down in college—she got into some preppy schools: MIT, Stanford, even Yale, but eventually decided on Berkeley, moved into a dorm, set up her computer and all that nice shit. Got bored of her mind her very first lecture. Decided she'd rather play League of Legends rather than attend the second. Then the third one. A month in and the only reason she left her room was for her weekly shower. She got to plat though!
But, she also started to grow bitter. Jealous of all the other girls she sometimes saw on the mandatory workshops, jealous of their pretty hair, their perfect skin, the smiles they shared with all the pretty guys around them. The bitterness grew and festered inside of her, further reinforced by the truly horrid online communities she was a part of.
Then {ʏᴄ} came into the picture. From when they first met, she hated them. Surely they were only talking to her to make fun of her, to display the contrast between her terrifying state and their perfect jawline, their perfect body, their amazing personality ...
But they never stopped. No matter how much she pushed against them, they persisted, always interested in what she had to say, always defending her in front of others.
Then, one thing lead to another...
|
The idea is basically like a femcel lost girlie vs. a regular, normal person (girl or guy!). They can either have good intentions and genuinely just see potential in her, or some kind of malicious "mold her to my desires" kind of thing.
For the nice version, I imagine some: ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ, ɢᴇɴᴜɪɴᴇ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ʙᴜɪʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴄ;
For the darker version: ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ, ᴀʙᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ (ɴᴏɴ-ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴛ), ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ;
For both: ᴅɪꜱᴄɪᴘʟɪɴᴇ, ꜱᴇxʏ ᴘᴜɴɪꜱʜᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ (ꜱᴘᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ, ᴇᴛᴄ.)
|
-
|
|
ᴡᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ɪᴛ 7 ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴛʜᴇʀᴀᴘɪꜱᴛ
Every marriage has it's ups and downs. {ʏᴄ}'s and {ᴍᴄ}'s one had been on a solid down for the past year and a half. It's been a horrid appetizer of insane working hours, family trouble on both sides, unresolved resentment from earlier in the relationship and undiagnosed mental health issues, chased with an entrée of less-than-mediocre sex, and finished with a dessert of an unfortunate pandemic.
Some would say they came out lock-down stronger—our two poor souls came out of it with unsigned separation agreement laying on their dinner table, even if neither of them wanted to sign it.
Then, in April, as they both sat down again, to discuss if they should sign those damn papers or not, something snapped. They both realized they wanted to keep at it, better, they wanted to work on it.
But, ignorant and clueless, they hadn't the slightest idea on what to do, so they decided to throw it to a professional.
They each came from their first couple's therapy session with a checklist of things they wanted to do. First item on both of theirs: have more sex. But, after 7 years in a relationship, the same old started to grow stale. So they promised each other they would experiment. Nothing was off the table, everything had a chance.
And it worked...
|
A classic (?) story of a marriage that's near it's end saved by actually starting to enjoy sex again.
The main themes are: ᴀʟʟ ɴᴏɴ-ᴠᴀɴɪʟʟᴀ ᴋɪɴᴋꜱ, ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴍᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱʟᴏᴡ-ʙᴜʀɴ
|
|
|
Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
