RE: Looking for Long-Term Roleplay [ MxF ]
Plots
Plot One - Insatiable
“Mmf… mmm…”
Several thin figures pale pressed repeatedly into her olive-skinned body, the front of their arousals mashing into repeatedly into her pussy, her mouth, her hands, her rear hole - everywhere. The strong stench of their musk was overpowering, causing her eyes to barely lift open. She was on all fours, her arms trembling from keeping in the same position for such a long period of time. They’d been going at it for an hour and a half now, each moment feeling like the best in her life. A wave of ecstasy and pleasure swept over her mind, causing her to close her eyes. Even during all this, the young elf wore her red scarf across her lithe neck.
Her breathing grew heavier, a pair of testicles slapping against her backside with tremendously powerful thrust. “I…is this your last time?” she asked sweetly. She felt him hit her g-spot, causing her to stifle a moan that threatened to escape her plush lips. “We’ve been… doing this… for a while now…” Her voice was threatening to break from exhaustion, his body leaning over her with his hands on her curvy hips. Several of the men watching her grunted, forming a semi-circle around. All of them began beating their cocks furiously in their hands as they stared at her. She giggled, sticking her tongue out to catch any cum that came her way. “Cum for me…”
Aska Verrans was a slut, which was just a fact. She was the town’s cum dumpster, the place where everyone went to relieve their stress. She was incredibly developed for her young age, only seventeen years old. She had scarlet red eyes, beautiful, silky smooth brown skin, large breasts, curvy hips, an hourglass figure, a plump rear, lush lips, a voice that sounded like a siren’s… she was coveted by every man in the town – even her own brother.
Especially her own brother.
She worked at the local brothel, attending to the clients and their needs. She was used to having sex for money ever since she was twelve, working her way up in terms of experience. Her maturity both physically and emotionally made her a fine catch, and a fine fuck. She was still so young, a tender age of seventeen yet she had been used hundreds of thousands of times, all by different men. On a normal twelve hour shift at the pub, she was ejaculated on or into at least seventy times. She’d go home, and her brother would keep her busy with another few rounds. Sometimes she did more, sometimes she did less. Regardless, the fact was she was a slut.
Always was, always would be.
Aska Varrens
x x x x x x x x x
Major Themes
- Incest
- Multiple Partners
- Prostitution
- Very Experienced Partner
- Forced Sex
- Smut
- Gang bang
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Plot Two - Hell's Bells
The bells chimed.
Silence.
They chimed once more.
Silence.
The sermon began with an obituary from the preacher, his white gown sprawled down his old, raggedy figure. He spoke several words silently, calmly, without so much as looking around at the grieving family members in front of him. His voice barely broke a dull roar, even when he was reciting the most emotional parts of the lecture. Tears dripped down pale cheeks, two children and a wife cried hysterically, strangers watched emotionlessly, summoned here only by ties to the deceased man. It was such a gloomy day, a dark, ominous cloud gathering overhead, spreading itself far across the reaches of the sky.
"Oh shut up," she groaned between her lush pink lips, slowly descending to the ground. The winged woman stretched herself out, poking the preacher in the forehead. "You're boring as hell." Why didn't he respond? Simple - he couldn't see her. No one could. She was a devil, here to claim the soul of the man and drag him to Hell. She was a malevolent force, a force of lust, desire, hate, anger...
She was invisible to mere mortals.
... But then why could he see her?
She turned her attention to him, a surprised expression etching over her once calm face. "Hm? You can see me?" she asked curiously, tilting her head to the side. She giggled and reached for a massive, sharpened scythe, "Well, we can't have that now, can we?"
Everything stopped.
"I'm the Angel of Death. Pleasure to meet you - and good-bye ~ !"
Alexis, Angel of Death
Major Themes
- Consensual
- Demon
- Inexperienced Partner
- Modern
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Plot Three - Cherry Popping
"That'll be seven gold coins, thank you very much!"
The perky redhead grinned with a chipper smile, a heavy rose eyeliner accentuating her blue eyes. She brushed some of the crimson red hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. The girl had a large chest, a beautiful complexion, and in incredibly skimpy maid's apron that left her backside completely revealed. She certainly was a fruit vendor most of the time, often selling her stock to strangers that happened to come to her stall solely based on her looks. She loved flirting with men, which is why she dressed so revealingly. She never even considered using her body for money, it was a disgusting thought to her. She was happy just selling fruit.
Her gaze averted to a man walking by, her eyes calming and her lips pursing. "Why, hello there," she said to him teasingly, a hand on her chin with her elbow supporting her arm. "Fancy seeing you around here, what do you want to buy?"
He was her best friend. They were neighbors at a young age, yet kept a closeness between them that remained forever. She spent more time with him than her actual family. Whenever she was scared, alone, tired, hungry, or just bored, she would go to his house and chat with him, spending hours and hours talking about the most nonsensical topics. That was back then, when she was called the 'ironing-board' for lack of any development on her chest, and a 'klutz' because of her clumsiness.
But... as others could see, things changed with time.
Her eyes suddenly widened with surprise as she flipped the stand over, the wooden beams breaking and collapsing on top of her head. She groaned as she remained in the debris, hardly moving.
Well, at least some things changed with time.
Lily Orelvun
Major Themes
- Consensual
- Cuddling/Teasing
- Inexperienced Partner
- Drama
- Modern
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Plot Four - Terra Incognita
"Incoming V-957, can you read me?" There was no response, only static. "V-957, can you read me?" the voice repeated. And again, the low hum of static responded.
Everything was a blur.
Suddenly, the ship ejected him from the passenger seat with a parachute detachment activating immediately after. Great, his vessel was crashed and malfunctioning too. He landed softly on his feet groggily, holding both hands to the sides of his head. He looked up and saw the sky, was it pink like this before? He quickly checked his holo-map to figure which quadrant of the Vitera System he was located in. Apparently, he wasn't in any. The map was clear space. No stars, no worlds, nothing.
He was completely lost on this uncharted world.
In the distance were magnificent porcelain white structures built upon floating rock, waterfalls streaming from the holes in the mountain. The brilliant sun emitted a pink glow, even when it was perched high in the middle of the sky.
Then, a lovely, melodic serenade raptured his ears. It resembled a siren's call, beautiful and seductive. On the edge of a cliff, he thought he saw something move... a person? Slowly peeking over the side, he caught sight of a woman. She was suggestively dressed with both of her knees in the clear pool of water, her hands gently stroking the fish in the pond. She suddenly looked up and turned her attention to him. She was just as surprised as he was. Slowly, she lifted into the air and glided to his position, her soft eyes gently observing his brusque figure. She smiled, her lips parting so she could say:
"Welcome to Haven."
Eve
Major Themes
- Cyberpunk
- Isolation
- Consensual
- Action/Adventure
- Plot intensive
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Plot Five - C'est la vie
"Please, I'd like everyone to welcome our new student Briggit Gravois." Mrs. Rose stepped aside humbly, revealing the fancifully clad girl behind her. She was remarkably beautiful...
...This was a freshman in
highschool?
The teacher quickly pressed the bridge of her glasses up and cleared her throat, "Now, Briggit, would you like to say anything to the class?" she asked in a raspy voice, speaking slowly so that the foreigner could clearly understand everything she said.
"Ah, yes. Perhaps there is something that I can be saying first," she said cheerfully, turning her stare to the class. Her limpid pools of blue twinkled, her brown hair flowing like cat-tails against the wind on a frog-bank. She stepped on her tippy-toes, both of her hands behind her back. The girls immediately started calling her vicious names, and the boys commented on her attractiveness. Great first impression. "My name is Briggit Gravois, as you are just being told. It is much pleasure to be acquainted to you! I am hoping that I can be earned your friendships." She bowed gracefully, her hair daintily falling over her lithe shoulders. She took the seat next to you, crossing one leg over the other. And then, she looked right at you... and giggled. She covered her mouth to suppress her laughter, and quickly returned to her normal, calm state of being.
This girl was a freshman indeed, though a very mature one. She was a famous model back in her homeland of France, but wanted to seek education in America. Her English was clunky, a thick exotic accent coating every word she spoke, but it was harmonious and soothing at the same time.
What incredible luck that she had come to this school. Out of all the institutions in the States, it was this one.
Yet it didn't end there. This girl, this model, this lovely vixen... she was a foreign exchanged student that needed a residence.
And it just so happens that you're it.
Briggit Gravois
Major Themes
- Consensual
- Foreigner
- Close Quarters
- Drama
- School-themed
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Plot Six - Ragnarok
"There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard,
It curls the blood-red crescent, the crescent of his lips,
For the inmost sea of all the earth is shaken by the ships."
And the cold wind blew.
The sun didn't rise over the horizon - not today. An infinite melancholic silence filled the vast reaches of the Earth. For as far as the eye could see, darkness settled over the land, its shrouded guise casting doubt over the throngs of warriors that stood bravely to oppose it. They made not a motion nor a noise. The waters of the ocean did not crash into the shore. They remained staid at the banks of every sandy beach. Even the sky, which cannot be contained, did not utter the smallest of breezes. Everything was still.
"And he strides among the tree-tops and is taller than the trees,
And his voice through all the garden is a thunder sent to bring.
The North is full of tangled things and texts and aching eyes,
And dead is all the innocence of anger and surprise."
And the cold wind blew.
Doom. Doom. From the other side of the valley, a rhythmic beating of drums started. It was so distant, so fragile, almost inaudible, but it was still there. In that silence, it was the only noise to pierce their ears. Doom. Doom. Then, it grew louder. The sound of feet and oars, trampling over blades of grass, shifting over plains of sand, paddling across rivers of water, all these sounds suddenly became more focused with higher clarity than before. Each moment, the sounds grew louder. The soldiers held their ground. Doom. Doom. Doom.
"They rush in red and purple from the red clouds of the morn,
From temples where the yellow gods shut up their eyes in scorn;
They rise in green robes roaring from the green hells of the sea
Where fallen skies and evil hues and eyeless creatures be."
And the cold wind blew.
A roaring din broke the fragile peace. A sea of giants, monsters, and other horrific abominations charged headstrong at the crowds of mere men. Their number was infinite, their strength was vast, and unlike the humans, they had one solace to bear credence to - they would be victorious.
In the End of Days, the Armageddon, the Ragnarok... the forces of light, goodness, purity, sanctity, they would be completely destroyed, engulfed by the all consuming Darkness.
It was their ultimate fate, nothing could change it.
... But she wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Death screams hateful curses boisterously through the sky,
And all of those throngs, torn by his blade, alas, will surely die.
Yet they brace their courage, steel their hearts, find their mettle within,
When they fall by Death's cruel sting, least they fall with kin."
She smirked, her brilliant white wings spreading fully wide. She turned around and gave one final nod to her soldiers, "It is an honor to fight at your side one last time. Though we are destined to fall, know this - you will fall defending all that is right." She dove into the enemy crowd, her helmet fastened, her spear readily armed at her side.
And the cold wind blew...
Forces of Good
Reginleif -
Mortal Form Valkyrie Form Goddess Form
Sylvanas
Vesperia
Forces of Evil
Lilith -
Lesser Demon Form Greater Demon Form
Major Themes
- Action/Adventure
- Drama
- Consensual
- Fantasy
- Apocalypse
- Plot intensive
- Multiple Characters
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Plot Seven - Breeding Grounds
"Unngh, what's going on?"
She felt a slimy, slithering wet tendril suddenly reach underneath her shirt, sliding in the crease between her breasts. The suctions on the ends of the appendage began making smacking sounds, sticking on and off of her large chest. They poked against her skin, the warm flesh caving in on the small puckers. She could feel a cold fluid seeping down her body, traveling to pool in her bellybutton. She winced, trying to move her arms. No good. She opened her eyes... everything around her was red. She found herself lodged in a fleshy wall of tentacles, most of her clothes completely torn from her body. What was remaining barely covered her modesty, the torn fabric hanging loosely from her waist. She grunted, squirming back and forth. "Rnngh... what the...?"
Leah was a fledgling spy sent on a mission to scout and navigate the major enemy forces on the planet of Selure. Her mission led her to an abandoned outpost, riddled with corpses and lit aflame like a candle. She had no idea how or why... but everyone was already dead. Before she could call headquarters, she noticed several hissing sounds coming from the bushes behind her. She couldn't catch a glimpse of her assailant, and everything went black moments later...
The red-head bit her bottom lip, relaxing her body once she realized forcing her way free would be impossible.
"Why is it that I always have to deal with this crap?" She heard a few incomprehensible voices from next door. They were speaking some sort of foreign language that derived from tongue clicks and guttural noises. Oh good, they were going to deliberate with her. Her expression calmed, though she still felt uneasy around this sort of binding. Live tentacles...? Were the denizens of this planet that primal? She saw two figures emerge from the shadows... and her heart sank.
These weren't humanoids of any kind. They were beasts, rather, with highly intelligent and sapient thoughts. They resembled insects... arthropods with hard exoskeletons, huge heads, massive mandibles, a slithering tail, and scythe-like arms. She looked nervously at them, the tentacles slowly raising her to their level. The towering monsters cackled with delight. "Play... nice..." One of them managed to said in a cracked, distorted voice. At first, Leah didn't understand what they were saying...
At least, not until she saw the tentacles start to move down her body.
"Why is it always me?"
Leah Kessling
Major Themes
- Light bondage
- Tentacles
- Forced sex
- Futuristic
- Beastiality
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Plot Eight - Lights, Camera...! Sex?
"I don't think I can make it... Henry," one of the soldiers whispered breathily, his pupils slowly clouding into a slate gray. "They shot me real good... I... I can't even feel my legs."
The other handsome, blonde soldier quickly rubbed away the tears forming along the sides of his eyes, trying to put on a strong face for his best companion. He held onto the man's hand with one gloved hand, the other supporting the back of his head. He didn't have the heart to tell him that both his legs were blown off by a blast of shrapnel. "You're gonna make it Johnny, I know you are. You and I are gonna go home, you'll see. We're gonna see our wives again, see our kids, everythin'll be alright!" His lower lip quivered involuntarily.
"D' you really mean that...?"
"Yeah, I really mean that Henry. Listen... I know..." There was a long pause, followed by an irritated groan. "...Shit, what's my line?" he called out angrily.
The entire filming crew sighed in unison, dropping their equipment and removing their ridiculously large headphones. "God damn it, can we at least get through one scene without a fucking retake?" bellowed one of the employees, leaving the filming studio in a fit of rage and frustration.
She sat in the director's seat with an unhappy expression over her face. "Hmph, he'll be back," she mumbled, putting her hands against the wooden arms of her chair and standing herself up. "You guys better not screw up another scene, alright?" she ordered, crossing her arms strictly. "I'm not going to take another shot if you screw up again. We're on a low budget already, we can't afford many more re-takes."
The bossy woman was best known as Victoria Henderson, a mediocre director at best in Hollywood. She created such classics like, "Legend of the Bridge Troll", and "Silent Night, Deadly Knight". Naturally, her next film was expected to be about the same caliber as the other two. She wanted to prove all those media heads wrong, show them that she did belong in the film industry. However, things started to look bleaker. This guy was a great actor... but he didn't remember any of his damn lines. "If this goes on, I'm gonna have to cut him," she informed her assistant, a stout man with rectangular glasses. The man quickly nodded and scribbled down the note onto his clipboard pad. Victoria sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. "Alright, take a ten minute break. I want everyone back here in exactly, ten minutes... got it? Good."
Hollywood or bust was her motto. Maybe it was time to get a new one.
Victoria Henderson
Major Themes
- Modern
- Consensual
- Slow-paced
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Plot Nine - Condemned
"You have been judged by the pharaoh herself. Your sentence is... life imprisonment in the catacombs of Cyreineca. You will remain there until your bones break and your body festers and rots. May Osiris have mercy on your damned soul, sinner." The man rolled the scroll dutifully back into its case, walking calmly with the message tucked underneath his armpit. To be honest, you probably shouldn't have tried to steal from the Pharaoh's tomb. It wasn't a smart idea before, and it sure as hell wasn't a smart idea now. Life imprisonment in a cell... you knew that you'd be dead within a week. To imagine an entire week inside a cramped holding room with no outside contact, food, or water, it must have been terrifying. Well, then it's a good thing that there's a little secret you don't know about... yet.
The catacombs of Cyreineca were created to commemorate the honor of Cyreineca, a pharaoh that ruled Egypt over two-hundred years ago. Inside the tombs were booby-traps, all of them incredibly lethal and incredibly deadly. No one knew the correct way to the center chamber; it was all trial and error. It became a place where men were killed after conventional means had been overdone and exhausted.
But those that did make it to the center on instinct alone were rewarded.
In the heart of the burial sight was a beautiful room ornamented with Tyrian purple curtains, a sculpted wall exterior with fancy hieroglyphics coating the tall ceiling, a fountain with flowing water, the floor made of solid gold, illuminating the faintest of lights with a dazzling sparkle. There were several rooms with living quarters, as well as a massive bedroom in the main courier. This was the pharaoh's greatest secret - her personal spire.
She occasionally led condemned prisoners who would have otherwise received a gruesome death to the room, letting them rest until they were believed to be dead. She felt pity for them, since she knew that law was far too harsh in some aspects, yet even she couldn't change what was permanently written down. She would free the prisoners secretly once their infamy had died down. In a sense, she was just being a good Samaritan.
The fact that she fucked all the prisoners was also another positive benefit. What could she say? She had an affinity for bad boys. Maybe she'll take a liking to you too...
Isis Philopator
Major Themes
- Smut
- Multiple Partners
- Consensual
- Very Experienced Partner
- Ancient Egypt
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Plot Ten - Teach Me
"Parry, slash, stab, turn, kick, stab, slash, turn... or was it? Wait no, I got it this time! A'right... parry, slash, stab, turn, kick, stab... turn...? UNGH!" She threw her weapon on the ground in frustration, both of her hands running through her bright blonde hair until her fingers locked along the back of her head. She exhaled and looked up at the checkered pattern of light the sun was making through the huge brush of deciduous oaks. Cassandra wasn't used to this sort of combat training. It bored her to death to learn about checks and balances, when to time attacks, when to kick, when to parry, all of it. She just used her brute force before, and it worked out relatively well! But apparently her master told her that "swinging a blade wildly won't do against a swordsman that has honed their skills." She would have called it bullshit - except for the fact that her master easily trumped her in one on one combat. She never won a single duel, not one.
Cassandra Alexandra was orphaned at a young age. She had a sister at one point, but her sibling too abandoned her to the harsh world, just like everyone else. She knew nothing of her heritage or of her family. Ever since she was a baby, he was her father. He wasn't much older than seventeen when he found her, yet the two kept a tight-knit bond that never faltered. She was beautiful, funny, overzealous, ambitious, and was coming of age. It wouldn't be long until she found someone to marry and settled down - but she still needed to perfect her sword skills before she even dreamed of living a normal life. The fact was, she was abandoned for good reason. From her conception she held a sacred power inside of her, something she didn't fully understand either. All she knew from her master was that it was, "very dangerous and highly coveted. You will need to know how to defend yourself, otherwise you will surely be slain." She progressed quickly, yet never came close to matching her master in skill.
Picking up her sword, she sheathed it once again and looked around. It was getting late... probably a good time to return to the make-shift house. Cassandra's master was a nomad ( in other words, he was unemployed ) that traveled from area to area, making his own living conditions with nothing but nature. "Hey, where are you old man?" she called with a chuckle. "Are you still...?" She paused, seeing something by the river. As soon as she saw who it was, a large blush filled her face. Her master was taking a bath: completely naked. She didn't even pretend to be modest. She took in his entire figure, feeling dirty for staring so long afterwards. Naturally, since she was a teenager, she had these... unsatisfied urges. She usually gave no thought to who or what she would pleasure herself to... but after seeing that...
Was it so wrong for a student to love her master?
Cassandra Alexandra
Major Themes
- Consensual
- Action/Adventure
- Master/Apprentice
- Inexperienced partner
- Age difference
- Fantasy
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Plot Eleven - Captivity
"My name is Elise Brises. If you are reading this, please help me. I'm trapped in a location underground on the third district of Pyrestone, the slums. I was passing by the area on my way to the Forum, when I noticed that there was somebody behind me. There was no one else in the street at this time of hour, so you can guess I was frightened. I started running faster, but so did the person behind me. Before I knew it, there were at least seven men chasing after me, cornering me into an alley. Everything went black after that... I only remember they put a bag over my head and carried me somewhere... somewhere cold.
I awoke in a cell with most of my clothes ripped. It is a dark, damp place, with a broken ceiling. From there I could hear women screaming in torment, and men laughing. I only imagined what horrors were going on in the other rooms. These women were all beautiful and hand-selected, which immediately made me believe I was kidnapped by a slave-trading company. But it was far worse than that - this was an underground crime syndicate that made profits by capturing women and having men pay large amounts to rape them. It wasn't long before I was chosen, and a group of men broke me in. I cried so much that night... I don't know how I made it this far.
Every day for three months was the same routine. I woke up, had maybe a small portion of bread and a glass of water, and was washed off by a bucket of water thrown on me. Then the men started lining up. Two, three, four, five, six at a time; they ruined me every day over and over again. They constantly humiliated me, they constantly degraded me... It was a never-ending spree... I didn't have a moment's rest. I was turned into a cum dumpster. I remember biting one of the men once, which made them nearly choke me to death. I never did anything like that again.
I have been able to smuggle various items over the past three months, including some dye, a feather, and a scrap of paper. It's how I'm writing to you right now. Please let this reach someone - please... someone help me. I can't last much longer down here... I can't..."
The rest of the letter is smudged in illegible black ink.
Elise Brises
Major Themes
- Forced sex
- Gang bang
- Public sex
- Smut
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Plot Twelve - Sisterly Love
"Nnggh, what?" She rubbed her eyes, giving her a half-open stare. It was way too early for her to be up. "What... we're going to the beach?" she groaned, obviously unenthusiastic for their summer vacation. "Seriously, school just ended like yesterday. Can't I have, like, three or four freakin' weeks before I do anything productive?" She groaned and buried her face in her feathery pillow, covering both of her ears with its sides.
Paige was just another average high-school freshman. She had mediocre grades at best, ranging from C+ to A-, a good clique of friends, and was voted the 'hottest girl in the school'. Okay, maybe she wasn't average. For her young age, she was incredibly mature, boasting a fine physique and a beautiful complexion. She was offered a job as a model, but easily turned them down, saying that she didn't care for stuff like that. She often had on and off relationships that didn't lead to anything other than simple kissing or groping. High-school drama was a pain in the ass, and she was glad it was over with... for now.
Her brother was the only person she ever really felt comfortable around, the only person she felt like she could talk to without being too awkward. Oddly enough, they had a strange relationship too. She felt like she was being a sibling to him, but he usually acted a bit more... touchy-feely than she was comfortable with. He slept in the same room as her, helped put on her clothes... hell, he sometimes took a shower with her. Naturally, this raised some concern, but she was too embarrassed to tell anyone.
None of that mattered anyways. She'd be going to Bermuda with her brother in the afternoon, though personally Paige felt more like sleeping in and playing video games. Their parents would be away to Paris for the entirety of the summer, so it'd just be her and her older brother. She scrunched her nose, sniffling gently before letting loose a loud yawn. "Hey, do you think they have video games in Bermuda?" she asked, half-joking.
This was going to be a fun summer.
Paige Valentine
Major Themes
- Incest
- Beach setting
- School setting
- Consensual
- Close Quarters
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Plot Thirteen - Amnesia
Waking up at 5:30 A.M. always sucks, especially after a good night's sleep. That ever happen to you? I'm sure it has. You're lying down one moment dreaming about something good, or just finally getting into that relaxed position where you're comfortable in bed, then the next minute your mom or dad's shaking you violently to wake you up. Those first few seconds are hell. Your eyes are heavy, you want to go back to sleep, and your head hurts like none other. Your senses are dulled and the only thing crossing your mind is sleep. A cup of piping hot coffee usually does the trick by revitalizing the senses and such.
But not today.
For a minute everything was pure white, like I was staring straight into a strobe light. It nearly blinded me. My eyes tried to force shut, but I could still see the brightness through my eyelids. I tossed and turned, pressing my face against the back of the cold capsule, groaning in displeasure. A monotonous woman's voice echoed throughout the holding cell and my personal chamber. "Good morning. You have recently woken from the time periods of..." Its speech suddenly turned robotic and stale. This was obviously some kind of prerecording. I didn't they'd be that lazy to use somethin' like that. "Time periods of... 2-0-4-2, A.D., to 2-1-9-5, A.D. The current time is... 5:30, A.M., of the year: 2-5-9-6, A.D. Your eyes will take time to adjust to the lights. Please, remain in your capsules until further notice. Do not attempt to break the glass casing of the capsule. Keep your body still while you lie in your compartment. A support team will soon come to satisfy your needs. Thank you for your patience." Hmph, I was just glad that she shut up. That loud noise felt like someone was shoving a screwdriver into my temples.
It took me several moments to collect myself. I was unable to fully regain consciousness until about 6:45. Still had a massive headache, and everything was just a blur. Actually, more than just a blur... a faded memory. I swore I remembered everything a minute ago, yet now nothing was clear. I replayed the events over and over in my mind: nothing. I forgot everything that happened prior to getting put into the capsule. So now I'm here inside, writing on my holo-graph, waiting for an assistance crew to unlock my capsule. And I don't have the faintest idea who I am.
SFX-4423
Major Themes
- Mystery
- Plot intensive
- Disability
- Cyberpunk
- Futuristic
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Plot Fourteen - The Beast of Gévaudan
"The Beast of Gévaudan.
'Monster' was a more appropriate term.
The Beast was a real creature. She was a massive gray wolf that prowled the provinces of Auvergne and South Dordogne during the years 1764 to 1767 in France. She killed over two-hundred victims, sparing not a single passerby. Men, women, children, they all fell to her bite. What was most bizzare was the fashion in which they were killed - they all died in the same way. Their throats and hearts were viciously torn out of their cadavers, but no other part of their bodies were harmed. It was so precise and systematic that the locals believed this to be a
versipellis, the literal translation being 'skin changer'. Or, for layman's terms: a werewolf.
She haunted these regions for three long, treacherous years. Every week she would claim at least one victim, then recede to her den in the woods. The King sent expeditions to kill the sylvan creature, but to no avail. She was far too elusive to be hunted. An entire generation was wiped off the face of the Earth because of her. The Beast was a quadruped about the size of a horse. She had a long pig-like snout, lined with large, razor-edged teeth. Her ears were small and round, lying close to her head. Her neck was long and strong, her tail somewhat resembling a long tail of a panther, but was so thick and powerful that the Beast used it as a weapon, knocking men and animals down with it. The feet of the Beast were like cloven hooves, or that each digit is tipped with a hoof, thick and heavy claws accentuating each tip.
One day, the locals decided they had to put an end to her once and for all. They caught her killing live-stock and shot. The Beast fell lifeless to the ground - or so it seemed. She quickly rose and ran, but not before being shot four more times. A copious trail of thick red blood led into the woods, staining the leaves of the underbrush. Everyone assumed that the monster wolf was mortally wounded, and she would die within the hour. However, to their horror, the killings continued. The wolf was truly unkillable.
A legendary hunter, whose name is still unknown to this day, supposedly entered the woods one hot day on June 19th. He was a foreigner, obvious by his tanned skin, but had an odd arsenal of weaponry. Stakes, silver bullets, holy water... what exactly was he hunting? No sooner did the man enter the woods when the killings completely ceased entirely. The man was never heard from again, and neither was the beast.
But, if you believe it's truly dead: then you're sorely mistaken.
Oh no, The Beast still lives. In fact, she's much closer than you think. She might even come out on Halloween and... get you!" She let out a loud roar with her hands stretched outwards, her fingers curled to resemble claws. The children all screamed and laughed, giggling hysterically afterwards. "Alright guys, let's go get you something to eat! You must be starved after all that Trick-or-Treating."
Kelly was just your average pre-school teacher. Loving, caring, and tolerant, she cared for the children like they were her own. She always kept a warm smile over her face, never frowning for a moment. She never became upset with her pupils, and she never scolded them for making mistakes. She was everything a kid wanted in a parent... at least from what she showed everyone else.
The woman moved to the kitchen, checking to see if the chicken was done. She put on two mittens and opened the oven, a blast of hot air hitting her face. "Mmm, nope! Still needs more time." Just as she closed the door, she looked into the sky - the moon was almost full. She gulped, biting her bottom lip. Would she have to lock herself in again tonight? She couldn't escape her haunting past. She could still remember children and women screaming, men begging for their lives, shattered families breaking down into tears over the mangled corpses of loved ones. When she said the Beast of Gévaudan was much closer than it seemed, she wasn't lying. It would appear from the deepest crevice of her soul...
Every time the moon went full.
Kelly Human Form
Kelly Wolf Form
Major Themes
- Angst
- Drama
- Consensual
- Werewolf
- School-setting
- Modern
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Plot Fifteen - Cum Dumpster
Most children are forced by their parents to go to school, coerced one way or another. Everyone except for a certain Julie Bennet, but she didn't go to school for an education - she went for a profit. A seventeen year old American student in Japan, she found that she could easily turn her little sessions into a money-raking payload. At the age of thirteen, she began selling herself for sex. Blowjobs at first, of course, nothing too serious. Her first time was with a senior in high school, around when she was fourteen. He was cute though, so she let him take her virginity. After he graduated, they never spoke again. A shame, since he was a good fuck too.
Julie was like a perfect whore. She learned that she was infertile and couldn't become pregnant under any means, which only helped her profits. Boys that sought a little relief wouldn't need to pull out in case they were afraid of giving her a baby. The girl always set up in stall two - it was her stall. Graffiti and tally marks covered its three marble walls, each one signifying a time she serviced a customer. The names were usually reoccurring boys that came once or twice a week, sometimes more. She took in anyone so long as they paid well. Teachers knew what she was doing, and some of them even joined in on the fun. The principal attempted to suspend her - until she showed him a technique with her tongue that would make God ashamed.
It was what she was, it was what she always would be.
A cum dumpster.
Julie Bennett
Major Themes
- Smut
- Multiple Partners
- Prostitution
- Very Experienced Partner
- Gangbang
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Plot Sixteen - Ain't no Rest for the Wicked
"Good-bye."
The erratic blue aura in her gauntlets flashed red and then faded. She straightened her back and brought her arms to her sides, her legs shoulder-width apart. The girl rolled her shoulders individually, then tilted her head from side to side. Her feet suddenly changed direction... and she was walking away. Every step she took cast a haunting echo, was she really going for good? The footsteps stopped. Her motionless figure stood with clenched fists, her head pivoting slightly over her right shoulder. Her eyes... those red eyes... They penetrated through his body and saw into his soul. The impling demon wailed in terror, his frail legs scurrying as quickly as they could as he tried to escape.
"Taste fire, fucker!" she screamed, her pupils dilating. A sudden blast of blue fire shot from her fingertips. The sheer happiness on her face from the joy of killing something was enough to frighten the most brazen of men. Her voice wasn't normal anymore. A poignant, dark reverb fashioned itself into her words, like there was something demonic resonating the same words she said. It sounded like evil incarnate.
The imp lit aflame, its skin charring with burning flesh. It fell onto its knees and screamed in agony, the most blood-curdling scream you could possibly hear. It tore at its stomach and scalp, the skin melting like butter off the body. Its skull and bones became visible, eyeballs falling out of its sockets, and then... silence. The mangled corpse of the demon remained on the ground, the skeleton still smoking with heat. The girl blew on the tips of her digits, rubbing them playfully against her chest. "Hmph, guess I'm too strong for my own good."
"You brat," muttered a second voice. The face of a demon suddenly appeared behind her, its arms placed where hers were. "You're too strong for your own good? Remember where you received your powers, mortal. It was I, the Great..." He was abruptly interrupted by a swish of her hand in his hazy illusion. "Gah! Stop that! Pffft! Get your... dirty little... human fingers out of my face!" He swatted at the air crazily, his eyes closed and his cheeks flexed.
She giggled and dug her hands into her pockets, casually walking out of the sewers with a calm expression. No one else could see the demon behind her - that was, except for other demons. She leaned her head backwards and looked over her shoulder, saying, "You sure don't like it when I do that, huh?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She stuck her tongue out and pulled down on her eyelid. "Sucks for you then!"
"Mortal... when I regain my physical form, you'll be in a world of pain. I will ensure that every waking moment of your life is spent in misery and solitude, and the only solace in your bleak, insignificant little world will be..." He was interrupted by another hand running through his foggy image. "WOULD YOU STOP THAT?!"
"Oh lighten up," she grumbled, rubbing the back of her head. "I am helping you kill demons, aren't I? I still don't get why you'd want to do that, aren't they your kind or something?"
"My kind? Feh, don't make me laugh. They aren't anything but fodder. The reason we're killing them is because they are a disgrace to my kind. None of them are worthy of life: it disgusts me more to look at a weak demon than it is to look at you... fleshy humans."
"So, I guess that's good enough grounds for a friendship, heh?"
"Not a friendship in the slightest. You are merely a vessel to contain me until I break free. I will not hesitate to kill you the moment I can, mortal." He was met by Sheena blowing in his face childishly. "... I really hate you, I really do."
She beamed another warm smile, shrugging her shoulders. "Hate me all you want, you still need me for now." She paused and replied, "And I don't hate you at all. I think you're probably the funnest thing that's happened in my life." Another silence.
"... Thanks."
Sheena Harukami
Major Themes
- Demons
- Action/Adventure
- Fantasy
- Consensual
- Plot intensive
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Plot Seventeen - Tales of Leviathan
Once upon a time, in a land called Leviathan, there was a young maiden trapped in the highest tower of the land. She was the daughter of the Goddess, oracled by the prophets to end the suffering of the people. Yet the evil, corrupt tyrant king known by the name of Balthazar learned of her. He quickly saw her as a threat to usurp his ruling with an iron-fist over the land. Fearing that her death would rouse the Goddess to divine intervention, he locked her in the Castle of Verdun. He put her into a dark trance, causing her to fall asleep for the entirety of her life.
In the castle was a scourge of monsters and beasts, the likes of which no man ever saw. They guarded the tower so that no mortal would ever rescue the fair maiden.
Yet prophecy spoke of a man that would come and eventually free her of her bonds and shackles, a man who would help bring an end to the tyrannical rulership of Balthazar - and countless other feats of strength.
Test your mettle. Perhaps you are the mortal they have mentioned.
Avelia Pandaros
Major Themes
- Action/Adventure
- Plot intensive
- Consensual
- Fantasy
- Epic Quest
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Plot Eighteen - Desolation
Dead, everyone was dead.
The great apocalypse snuffed out all life on Ion. A massive world the size of ten suns teeming with trillions was somehow purged over night. None of the buildings were damaged, none of the cities were touched, and none of nature's other creations were harmed. However, the bodies of humans were scattered all across the land. Some mangled, some bloodied, some unrecognizable. Whatever happened managed to wipe out 75% of the human race. Of the other 25%, 20% died of events occurring after the fact. In effect; only 5% of humans remained.
Was this the End of Days?
Her feet brushed against the slab stone street. She furrowed her brows, holding a tightened hand to her chest. Summoning the rest of her courage, she continued. Bodies riddled the city with blood and debris. A cool breeze of air tickled her face, nipping gently at her warm cheeks. She wrapped a veiled hood around her body, covering her stomach from the cold. She could see her own hot breath in front of her. The fog was growing denser as she went further into the destruction. At one point, she couldn't even see two feet in front of her. There were snickers and giggles surrounding her presence, silhouettes fading in and on of existence. "Whore." "Slut." "Cunt." "Bitch." "Die. Die. Die. Die. Die." She covered her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the hideous noises.
A monstrosity leaped from the darkness, tackling her to the ground. She shrieked with panic, feeling both her arms pinned down to the pavement. This monster was a bipedal creature with a horribly twisted face. It had a large thick tail, scaled-diamond skin, eyes that protruded inside-out, sharp razor-edged teeth, and a wide smile. It began clawing at her frantically, though she pushed it away with her forearms. She closed her eyes, trying not to look directly at its face. Saliva began dripping down the beast's gaping mouth, spilling onto her skin. She jostled back and forth, trying to shake it free, but to no avail. The monster kept hissing and scratching, trying to rip her face off. This was it...
Suddenly, the blue crystal essence tied around her waist slipped off and became visible, illuminating the shadow around her. The monster eyed it with shock and quickly fled, howling boisterously the entire way. The elven girl sat up, her breathing heavy, her eyes clouded. She held onto her arms and gasped, hiccuping slightly between pants. The shock hit her like a boulder, and she buried her head into her knees, crying silently.
The monster was her father, mutated into something else. Something... wicked.
"Please... help me... someone..."
Aelia Lightmoon
Abandoned City:
x x
Major Themes
- Apocalypse
- Drama
- Fantasy
- Plot intensive
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Plot Nineteen - Shipwrecked
A luxury boat sinks in the middle of the sea. Men and women abandon the ship, though the captain sinks with his pride intact. You're the only survivor of the fateful wreck. You find yourself on a strange island. Odd, you heard that there was no land anywhere near your location only moments before the ship capsized. Your legs feel wobbly like jelly and you collapse face first into the sand. Everything goes black.
The next minute you find yourself in a hut. There are beautiful women wearing skimpy clothing crowding around you, chattering in their exotic, native language. One of the women can translate into English. "Are you alright?" she asks sweetly, putting her mouth to your ear. You nod. "Good... please be still and do not move." One of them suddenly begins stripping and straddles you. Naturally, seeing her like this, your arousal starts to grow.
"I am sorry, but we need you. You see - this island is only women. We cannot reproduce unless we have men. You are the first male we have seen in twenty years... so we need you." She smiles and kisses you on the cheek. "Please, I apologize once again for our treatment to you."
... Hm. Maybe you died and went to heaven?
Harem
Major Themes
- Gang bang
- Multiple Partners
- Forced sex
- Smut
- Harem
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Plot Twenty - Short on Time
The cherry blossom is considered the most beautiful flower in all of Japan. It's blooming signifies a great beauty, yet sadly, it is followed by an unfortunately swift end. Thus was the way of the flower, also known as Sakura.
And, by a twist of unfortunate events - she shared the same fate as her namesake.
She was born into a normal family with a normal life, nothing too interesting that stood out about her. Sakura Yamamoto was a smart, kind, beautiful young girl with everything going for her. She was going to attend University of Tokyo in a few months, a school well known for its prestigious students, amazing facilities, strong community, and famous name. She studied and worked all of her life to achieve this. She was proud of herself. She had in a few applications before her acceptance with a scholarship was finalized, her medical records being one of them. Sakura checked into the hospital nine months.
... Her heart broke.
She was diagnosed with an incredibly rare form of heart cancer. She had several benign tumors, but further scans showed that they were located around the arteries and muscles of her heart. The cancer had already spread to other parts of her body through angeogenesis. She tried everything to stave off the disease. Taking medications, following all sorts of lifestyle options, chemotherapy, nothing worked. She was terminally ill. Her life was over. Her dreams, her loves, her drive, they were all gone.
She wanted to become a doctor, a martial artist, a painter, a writer... none of those wishes would come true.
The only comfort she could find was in her best friend.
Sakura Yamamoto
Major Themes
- Consensual
- Best friends
- Drama
- Angst
- Illness
- Modern
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Plot Twenty-One - S.A.M.
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Conducting request: Angelus Project Series XXF4 in the archives...
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File 1AX - We have just started experimenting on human-cyborg relations. We plan on using test subject Unit 003: S.A.M., an acronym that stands for Semi Automatic Machine. She is semi automatic because she is unable to make any movements without the control of a human. She is a mere prototype of the shell of a robot, with no features or design. We plan on inputing a human brain inside of the vessel as soon as possible.
File 1AZ - Day four of the experiment. A major breakthrough. The machine has gained consciousness without a human nervous system empowering it. We are perplexed by this mystery. We have increased the aluminum percentage of her make-up from 2.56% to 2.80%, simply for better inhibition of electricity. We have decreased the mercury content of its interior gears from 5.22% to 2.81% in the case that a sudden melt-down occurs from the reacting mercury levels of 3% or higher. Change in Br from 3% to 6%, change of Cu from 2.1% to 9.02%, sig. fig. 4.02% Fe changed to 4.00%. We hope this new model will suffice.
File 4BD - Everything and more than we could have wished for. S.A.M. has become fully operational, complete with thought and sentience. We have attempted to disconnect her 'nervous system', which led to another successful experiment. She cannot operate with actual thought without a source of energy. If deprived of energy, she reverts to her mechanical programming set in the chip in her brain. We plan on testing a few new things tomorrow.
File 6EP - Subject Unit 003: S.A.M. is missing. The room is left without a trace of intrusion, and there is no sign of forced entry or escape. We only know that the power source and S.A.M. are both gone. The assailant stole nothing else. Police are already searching for the culprit. We must not let this information be revealed to the public - at any cost.
End transmission.
Unit 003: S.A.M.
Major Themes
- Science Fiction
- Cyborg
- Obliviousness
- Conspiracy
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Plot Twenty-Two - Hot and Bothered
He was having a pretty crappy week. Losing his job and his long-time girlfriend wasn't exactly something taken easily without a bottle or two of alcohol to drown the sorrows. Without anything else to do or anyone else to spend time with, he decided the beach would be a good place to cool off and get some relief. He was only half right.
He got to the beach around noon with an empty stomach. All that driving got him hungry, so he looked around for a snack bar. When one didn't present itself immediately, he tried asking around. As he stood in the middle of the crowd he caught sight of a beautiful woman... who returned the eye contact with him. She stared walking towards him... his heart nearly skipped a beat.
"You look awfully lonely, what're you doing here?" she asked, putting her hands on her shapely hips. She moved closer him while looking up into his eyes, her posh lips pursed. She slowly twirled her hair side to side, bringing both hands to his cheeks. She moved her head towards his, kissing him gently on the chin, then moving her way up to his lips. She hovered over them... and backed her head away. "You look like you could use a little company." She giggled and turned around, her rear cheeks grinding against one another as she walked, her hips swaying from side to side.
"If you can pay me well," she spoke to him over the shoulder, "I'm sure we can come to a mutual agreement. See you later, sweetie." She winked and the man and blew him a playful kiss. She knew he'd be coming to her. They all did.
Ayane Otake
Major Themes
- One night stand
- Beach-setting
- Smut
- Consensual
- Drama
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