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- Joined
- Sep 17, 2013
- Location
- Markarth, Skyrim
After some unexpected life events, I am back and ready to RP again! So! On a happier note, I am looking for some new RP partners, please message me if you're interested, I prefer to keep things via email, or PM.
I don't think out whole plots, I enjoy coming up with things as we go. I will not play a pre made character. Fandoms are okay, but I will always play OCs in them. I want to keep things a good balance between smut and story. Smut has it's place, pleases keep it there. Most of my ideas right now are very smutty in the description, but do not have to be when actually being played!
NOTICE*
I am pretty flexible with plots and such, and if you have an idea, please feel free to bring them to me. The premiss for all of these stories are fantasies of my own, so as I am open to other ideas and adding things to them, I would prefer to keep the main ideas the same. Details are always negotiable as well as some of the plot.
I'm super easy to get along with, so shoot me a message and let's see where things go!
What I have to offer:
What I expect:
*These are not expected in non-fetish roleplays.
If you, by chance, don’t meet one of a few of these, but are still interested in doing one of my roleplays, or have something in mind, let me know! I would still love to talk something over, maybe we can find a middle ground.
Limits:
All of my limits are firm, and non-negotiable.
Fetishes/Likes
*These will be expected.
If you aren’t into some of my fetishes, don’t worry, I’m sure I won’t be into some of yours! I’m really into lots of things, these are just the ones that come to mind at the moment.
Pairings:
*These are usual cravings, so if you’re interested in one of these pairings, let me know, even if you don’t have an idea for a plot, I’m sure we could come up with something!
CRAVING UPDATE: January 31, 2014
This is a fandom. I am looking for someone to play either Bane, or Isaac Barsaad, while I play and OC!
Bane of Humanity Mega Craving!
The hospitals had been overflowing ever since the bridges had been shut down. They had expected the bomb to blow any second now, so really, what was the point in trying to help people now? That’s what most of the doctors at Gotham General had thought, yet there CiCi Forbes stood, a white lab coat around her waist, a pair of light green scrub pants covering her long muscular legs and a pair of bright yellow shoes on her feet, a hospital issued clipboard firmly planted between her fingers. CiCi had been the only doctor in the hospital for weeks, but she did her best to keep all of the patients, the ones that stayed of course, as comfortable as possible. CiCi had only been a doctor for 6 years now, but her moral standards were on the high end, and she would never let anyone be hurt on her watch, even if she only had hours left to live.
Her body trembled of exhaust, and her eye lids hardly stayed open as she wandered one of the many empty wards in the massive building. It had been 48 hours since she had last slept, and now it was just a matter of finding a comfortable place to lay her head, even if just for an hour or so. Her mind was completely numb to the world outside of the building, not that that was much of a change, so she had not a clue how much longer it would be, but she planned to be asleep when it happened. To her, that seemed like the best way to end it.
The sound of footsteps, however, did not escape her hearing, leaving her head to whip to the side, seeing nothing. Her mind had to have been playing tricks on her… That was what she thought. It was a trick, like a mirage, all fake. Her body soon found a clean bed, the sheets made, a corner pulled back inviting her even more to lay down. She leaned over softly, pulling back the corner more, stepping on each heal of her shoe to pull it from her foot, leaving the abandoned against the floor as she began to climb into the bed, listening to it creak as she propped one knee up against it.
Isaac Brasaad had already done a clear sweep through of the hospital stocks, grabbing anything and everything he could get his hands on, pushing it all into large duffle bags before sending them off with the men he had appointed to follow. Their job was simple, get as many medical supplies as possible, but Isaac had other ideas. He was in charge for now, and he wasn’t about to let his friend die.
He had seen her walking down the hall, catching his eye as she walked in front of one of the windowed rooms he had been raiding. Her eye were full of sleep, and her skin looked pale and tired, but he was sure she would fit the bill.
He turned for a second, his words low and quiet, his accent chiming in, “Clear this room, raid the other floors. Get anything you find, I don’t care if it’s a fucking band-aide, I want everything. As soon as you’re done, get to the new location. I’ll be there soon.” With that he turned, his fingers lowering to his hip where a large steal bowie knife sat as he strode from the room, keeping his steps quite, his body carefully hidden from her view.
He stalked her like a predator of the night, watching her from the door way of the room she had inhabited, seeing her take her shoes off, taking his opportunity to strike. He quickly walked over to her, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other hand pressing the knife firmly to her porcelain neck, listening to the small whimper that had come from her throat. He inhaled deeply as his head lowered, taking in the scent of her shampoo, something fruity, something feminine, something he had missed for so long. He eyed her natural platinum locks as he spoke to her, his voice much more firm than what it had been with his men.
“You’re coming with me. Scream, and I will slit your throat faster than you can blink.” He let out roughly. Of course it was against was few morals he still had, but he needed to get her to Bane and if threatening her life would do it, then so be it.
Their new hiding space was nestled deep in the Appalachian Mountains, sitting like a steal walled fortress in the center of low valley. They were essentially hidden from the world.
CiCi’s quivering, sleep deprived body had been forced on a long and restless ride, and now she stood, still with Isaac Barsaad behind her, this time he had no weapon, he had no need for one, there was no way she would be escaping from here. Her eyes were focused solely on the man before her though, his body lifelessly laying against a low mattress a wide deep wound covering a large portion of his massive chest. She would never have known who this man was, but the mask was a clear give away.
“Your new job, Doctor, is to keep this man alive. You do that, and you will flourish here. You will be given splendors you could never imagine. You fail, and your fate is as good as his.” Barsaad spoke into her ear before pointing to several large duffel bags. “Anything you need, you come straight to me.”
CRAVING UPDATE: January 31, 2014
Mates: Mega Craving!
Long ago werewolves flourished through the lands, and Indian land was vast. Dirt roads littering the earth, while small one bedroom homes were made of log, and built up beside them. It used to be peaceful, it used to be safe. There were no land wars, and the people were not forced to hide their true selves.
After thousands of years of peace between the tribes, the white people moved in. The way they spoke to the tribes and belittled their elders put a fury in their minds. Yet, the Indians were outnumbered. They were forced to keep their land in small amounts, and sell the rest to the whites. At that moment, the wolves stopped appearing. Wolves were very much still alive in the tribes, but suppressed by the white man.
As time moved, a group called Rigger came to rise in what was now called the supernatural scene. Rigger hunted wolves. They were everywhere, and always a threat. The men were never allowed on reservation, yet the first step a wolf was to take outside would naturally be close to it’s last. Rigger had become a growing threat for the wolves as they became more advanced with their technologies, now knowing the exact moment a wolf takes steps past their boundaries
With the rise of Rigger though, also came a group called Westward. Westward brought the tribes their supplies when they were unable to get them their selves. The founder of Westward, Aleara West, was a prominent business women at the time, owning three saloons throughout the east corner of Arizona. She was also the lover of a tribe leader, Alpha Gray Locklear.
From Aleara and Gray, came their daughter, Pandora. She had always been small at her max height of 5’1” and her wolf was no bigger, Her skin was unnaturally pail for her tribe and her hair was white as arctic snow. Pandora’s wolf was tiny, just like her body. She looked like an average wolf, so unlike the rest of their massive furred bodies. Her fur was white, except for one bit, her paws were all midnight black, the only thing she had inherited from her father.
Pandora’s Tribe had been wiped out by Rigger, leaving her a lonely stray, roaming the North Western United States, avoiding trouble as well as she could, rarely turning into her wolf form. Yet today was her unlucky day. A silver bullet was lodged in her hind leg as a tall camo covered man ran after her, a shiny silver pistol firmly in his hand as he ran. The man was nearly as fast as her, yet when it came to maneuvering, he didn’t stand a chance. Her muzzle whimpered softly as she ran, legs aching so much already, not to mention the bullet, her chest heaved for air painfully, she’d lost him though.
Her troubles where really only starting though, as her thin wolf form nose dived into a shallow creek bed, her eyes not paying a lick of attention in her aimless run. As she stood she could only focus on what stood before her. Another wolf, only h was at least three times larger than her, snarling right in her face. He was obviously an Alpha. The small wolf whimpered at him, her head looking down, trying to show him she was no threat. The black wolf gave no answer though, his teeth digging into the scruff of her neck, not painfully, though not gently either. Her turned, toting her off, her small whimpers never seizing and her hind leg curled into her body, the silver burning at her whole body.
She was positive she was going to die, but little did she know, the Alpha had other plans for her.
CRAVING UPDATE: October 2, 2013.
The Balls in Your Field.
“Happy Retirement” flashed across everything. Bright blue ribbon with bubbled letters streamed over the windows of the massive sun room. Rays of light streamed into the room, reflecting a warm bright light against the people who occupied the space. The room was filled with creamy white tables and nice folding chairs to match, all of which had thick pale yellow bows wrapped around the middles. You would think this was a wedding when your eyes landed on the tall tiered cake that sat on one side of the room, a long buffet of food following after. The center was jam packed with people, all dressed fairly nice, most of them elderly, except one.
Hadley Parker was at the young age of 21, her thin body nestling into a corner, a narrow champagne flute firmly in her trembling fingers. Her sandy blonde hair was curled and perfectly pinned back, letting soft tendrils lay delicately against her shoulder blades. A short flowy summer dress draped against her body, it’s fringed yellow hem gently skimmed at her lightly tanned mid-thigh. Hadley stood at only 5’4” but on this particular day she wore heels, adding an 4 inches, putting her at an average 5’8”. Her beauty was practically radiating, yet here she stood, hidden in the corner, her shoulders slouched as her pale blue hues glanced about nervously.
Coach James Reed had been Hadley’s softball coach for the last 3 years, and had been coaching for the last 34 years. It was finally his time to relax. James Reed’s coaching career started after he was forced to retire from the big leagues. A knee injury had gone bad, and left him unable to play like he used to. At the age of 29, James was hired at Pittsburgh University to become the head women’s softball team coach. He was one of the best coaches Hadley had ever had.
The young women’s eyes quickly caught that man walking towards her, another in tow as he moved, his hands moving animatedly, his mouth moving quickly as he spoke excitedly. The man beside him was easily a head taller than Hadley, even with her beige platform heals, making him at least 6’3”. His chest was massively thick, his muscles pulling the pressed striped button down to its limits as they flexed unintentionally. A pair of nice grey slacks and dress shoes adorned his lower half, the striped blue shirt tucked nicely into the hem of his pants. Hadley though, was focused on his face more than anything else. His jaw was square and his face was littered with dark stubble. His lips curved softly into a smile, her teeth gleaming softly with the sun’s rays, reflecting on his deep grey eyes as well. This man was gorgeous, easily the best looking man she had ever seen.
A smile quickly plastered to her face as James approached her, his arms spread open as he moved in for a hug. Hadley wrapped her arms around the man before pulling away, unable to get a word in as James began speaking happily.
“Hadley you look beautiful.” He speaks animatedly, before turning to the man beside him. “Tommy, meet Hadley, she’s our varsity team captain, and I can assure you she will be your star play this season.”
The man grinned deviously, his hand reaching out in front of his thick chest offering it to her, “Lovely to meet you Hadley, but with all due respect James, I think we should leave that decision to me now.”
James smiled and let out a small laugh as Hadley’s thin fingers reached out to shake Tommy’s hand, her edges of her mouth moving into a real smile as his massive paw gripped her own, shaking it softly. He was going to challenge her. She liked it.
CRAVING UPDATE: September 13, 2013:
The Hunting Grounds:
Her dew covered skin trembled soft, the cold morning breeze chilling her to the bone. The forest was vast, glow lichen covering the base of the trees, lighting the path ways below her, making it easier for her darting white eyes. Her gaze fell to the path, just 50 ft before her he stood. His body loomed massively in the moonlight, a long shadow falling along the blue tree leaves that littered the ground. His presents froze her body, her eyes trained on him, watching as his head turned, his eyes scanning the area like a predator on the prowl. Her limbs slowly came to, her hands moving from her lap, her knees bending as she moved to stand, her dainty feet balancing the best she could on top of the thin tree branch. she moved slowly, quietly, her movements carefully thought out. The tree limbs creaked under her tiny weight, her eyes clenching closed as her body froze once more, her hands aching softly as she clenched at the branch above her. A sinister grin fell upon the mans lips watching her move, or rather not move, almost as if she knew. As if she knew that he had found her. She could run, but she couldn't hide.
CRAVING UPDATE: September 22, 2013:
Vampire / Blood Slave
-Blood Singers. A world where vampires ruled, and humans were merely food, there were blood singers. A vampire who had his blood singer was much more powerful with, than without. They are like mates, eternally bound upon first glance, and once bound physically, the singer becomes immortal as long as their owner still lives.
He’s looking for his blood singer, she gets stuck in the middle of his raid, but she’s not going down without a fight. As a human she feels no bond to him, and he could care less for feelings, he only wants power.
How far can she push him before he brakes, or brakes her?
CRAVING UPDATE: September 23, 2013
Of Love and Gore:
Elwin had known her for a long time, almost 15 years now, but she never thought that their friendship would come to this.
Their home was not modest in any form, nor should it be for the business they ran in. International drug traders as they liked to call it. They didn’t actually “deal” drugs per say… they just set dealers up with dealers in other countries. It was an at home booming business.
The house was two story, with a large basement. 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a huge kitchen, and last but not least, the “play room” in the basement. The play room was a place the couple often found themselves, and currently was where Elwin waited.
Her chest heaved heavily, as best as she could at least. The room was clean, almost unnaturally so, and the dark cement floors reeked of bleach. On one side of the room was a long tall cabinet, with four doors and a shining black finish. On the opposite side was a long short counter, various containers of different sizes and cylinder containers littered the top. At the end of the counter, sat a rectangular glass aquarium.
In the center of the room sat a shiny metal surgical table with small dash shaped cut outs every two inches. Currently, the table was occupied by Elwin, her entire body strapped down painfully by thick leather straps. The straps were pulled tightly across her body, digging into her skin, holding her body perfectly still. She was completely bare, and the table had been turned slightly, reclining back so that she was half way upside down, her bright red hair pooling slightly on the floor as it draped off the table.
Her neck was covered in a thick leather posture collar, one of the thick leather straps crossing over it, holding her neck down firmly. Her eyes were half way open, her skin prickling softly, feeling the soft movement of the creature that had first been placed against her body, It’s legs moved eerily against her hip, threatening to move lower, leaving her to panic and dart her eyes, searching for her lover.
Even if she were there, it would do Elwin no help. She liked to watch the suffering.
CRAVING UPDATE: Updated September 23, 2013
The Box:
This was punishment. To most it just looked like a box, maybe even a cup holder, but those who knew specifically what it was for, would cringe on sight. The box was a plain polished cherry wood with four round holes cut into the top and on each side was a round metal eyelet loop protruding just below the top edge. There was a split directly down the middle of each set of holes and four hinges on one side so it could be opened. It was just a box.
Peitra knew better though. She was just a young girl at the age of 18 when she experienced her first encounter with the box. Having been dating a man who was nearly ten years older than her since she was 16, she had learned a few new tricks, yet avoiding trouble was never one of them. Peitra had a quick tongue and she often had problems controlling her langue, something that Christopher regularly warned her about. So at the naïve age of 18, freshly legal and still an untouched virgin she learned her lesson. The box, was no place she wanted to go.
Unfortunate for her, it had become a regular meeting place for her and her boyfriend and today was no different. As time had gone by one thing had changed though and very drastically, the extremeness of her punishments. At first it was just the box, then it was a gag, then a collar and so on. This, was the worst yet.
Her wrists had been firmly placed into the box but not before two straight pins were placed under each of her well-manicured nails. Her ankles had also been secured in place, a thin piece of twine looping around each of her dainty toes, then curving around her ankle, bending them back uncomfortably. As soon as she heard that tiny click she knew there was no talking him out of this. The box now held her hands and feet hostage, leaving her no place to run.
Slowly Christopher would circle her, smirking at his work, watching her cringe at the small amount of pain he was putting her through thus far. This was nothing.
Soon after her neck had been put in a thick steel boned posture collar, a short chain attached to it and connected to one of the loops on the box, forcing her body to ache awkwardly. An inflatable gag had been slipped into her mouth quickly after Christopher had relived his throbbing erection inside of it. She was left with an aching jaw and a mouthful of cum as the inflatable was pushed to capacity. Her silky blonde hair had been tied perfectly with a thick length of rope and pulled up, attached firmly to a beam just above her head, forcing her into a middle ground with the collar.
As you moved down her body you would notice that her once unpierced now had tiny rings hanging from them. The rings had a long strand of thread attached pulling her nipples painfully towards the sides of the box, where each piece of twine had been tied off on the loops. Her stomach sloshed painfully as a mixture of ice cold water and Christopher’s piss were pumped into it causing not only an uncomfortable fullness, but unbearable cramps as well.
Accompanying the rubber enema tubing was an anal hook. The ball at the end was an enormous 50MM and hardly fit into her tight hole.
A pumping ball hung limply from her cunt, attached to it was a thick black rubber dildo which was locked into place with a leather chastity belt wrapped tightly around her waist. The dildo had been pumped nearly 40 times before he stopped, sure that she had been stretched beyond her limits, knowing her cunt would gape for days after.
Christopher circler Peirta once more before stopping in front of her, and kneeling down, a devious grin on his lip, a sadistic glint in his eye. Heavy tears ran down her eyes as her hips squired unstably, her eyes almost begging him to release her. That wasn’t going to happen though, she could say no, she could stop this all now, but it would take more than a begging glance. The box was her punishment after all.
CRAVING UPDATE: September 27, 2013.
Saved by Death
Tinsley had been fighting hematological malignancies, or cancer of the blood, since she was 5 years old. It had been a miracle that she had made it this long and at the age of 22 the cancer had finally won.
As she sat in death's bed, her mother sat beside her, holding her hand tightly, watching her daughter waist away. Then he came.
He took her to the underworld. He took her to his home. Death saved her, but did he really?
I don't think out whole plots, I enjoy coming up with things as we go. I will not play a pre made character. Fandoms are okay, but I will always play OCs in them. I want to keep things a good balance between smut and story. Smut has it's place, pleases keep it there. Most of my ideas right now are very smutty in the description, but do not have to be when actually being played!
NOTICE*
I am pretty flexible with plots and such, and if you have an idea, please feel free to bring them to me. The premiss for all of these stories are fantasies of my own, so as I am open to other ideas and adding things to them, I would prefer to keep the main ideas the same. Details are always negotiable as well as some of the plot.
I'm super easy to get along with, so shoot me a message and let's see where things go!
What I have to offer:
- A quality RP partner.
- Close to 5 years of submissive/slave experience
- Little to no limits
- 2 - 8 paragraphs per post
- 4 years of role playing experience
- Complete masochism and servitude
- Updates on posts and forewarning of absence
What I expect:
- Quality RP and a partner who can match post lengths
- Wit
- Charm
- The ability to know the difference between being an asshole (in RP) and being strict
- Sadistic*
- Creative
- Little to no limits with an eclectic interest in most areas of BDSM*
- Literate
*These are not expected in non-fetish roleplays.
If you, by chance, don’t meet one of a few of these, but are still interested in doing one of my roleplays, or have something in mind, let me know! I would still love to talk something over, maybe we can find a middle ground.
Limits:
- Brother/Sister pairings
- Age Play
- Death & Maiming
All of my limits are firm, and non-negotiable.
Fetishes/Likes
- Gags (any)
- Throat Fucking
- Humiliation/Degradation
- Spit (in/on)*
- Piss (in/on)
- Anal (any)
- Ass Worship (giving)
- Pain (receiving)*
- Extreme Caning
- Knife Play
- Minor Body Modification (piercings, tattoos, ect.)
- Branding
- Man Handling*
- Extreme Bondage (device)
- Breath Play
- Predicament Bondage
- Enemas (including but not limited to: piss, cum, vomit, ect)
- Rimming (giving)
- Extreme Bondage
- Latex
- Scat
*These will be expected.
If you aren’t into some of my fetishes, don’t worry, I’m sure I won’t be into some of yours! I’m really into lots of things, these are just the ones that come to mind at the moment.
Pairings:
- German Solider/Wife* (WWII)
- German Solider/French Prostitute (WWII)
- Boyfriend/Girlfriend
- Bad Boy/ Good Girl
- Vampire/ Blood Slave
- Master/Slave
- Alpha/Omega (werewolves)*
- Vampire/Human
- Werewolf/Human*
- Coach/Player
- Good Boy Country/Bad Girl City
*These are usual cravings, so if you’re interested in one of these pairings, let me know, even if you don’t have an idea for a plot, I’m sure we could come up with something!
CRAVING UPDATE: January 31, 2014
This is a fandom. I am looking for someone to play either Bane, or Isaac Barsaad, while I play and OC!
Bane of Humanity Mega Craving!
The hospitals had been overflowing ever since the bridges had been shut down. They had expected the bomb to blow any second now, so really, what was the point in trying to help people now? That’s what most of the doctors at Gotham General had thought, yet there CiCi Forbes stood, a white lab coat around her waist, a pair of light green scrub pants covering her long muscular legs and a pair of bright yellow shoes on her feet, a hospital issued clipboard firmly planted between her fingers. CiCi had been the only doctor in the hospital for weeks, but she did her best to keep all of the patients, the ones that stayed of course, as comfortable as possible. CiCi had only been a doctor for 6 years now, but her moral standards were on the high end, and she would never let anyone be hurt on her watch, even if she only had hours left to live.
Her body trembled of exhaust, and her eye lids hardly stayed open as she wandered one of the many empty wards in the massive building. It had been 48 hours since she had last slept, and now it was just a matter of finding a comfortable place to lay her head, even if just for an hour or so. Her mind was completely numb to the world outside of the building, not that that was much of a change, so she had not a clue how much longer it would be, but she planned to be asleep when it happened. To her, that seemed like the best way to end it.
The sound of footsteps, however, did not escape her hearing, leaving her head to whip to the side, seeing nothing. Her mind had to have been playing tricks on her… That was what she thought. It was a trick, like a mirage, all fake. Her body soon found a clean bed, the sheets made, a corner pulled back inviting her even more to lay down. She leaned over softly, pulling back the corner more, stepping on each heal of her shoe to pull it from her foot, leaving the abandoned against the floor as she began to climb into the bed, listening to it creak as she propped one knee up against it.
Isaac Brasaad had already done a clear sweep through of the hospital stocks, grabbing anything and everything he could get his hands on, pushing it all into large duffle bags before sending them off with the men he had appointed to follow. Their job was simple, get as many medical supplies as possible, but Isaac had other ideas. He was in charge for now, and he wasn’t about to let his friend die.
He had seen her walking down the hall, catching his eye as she walked in front of one of the windowed rooms he had been raiding. Her eye were full of sleep, and her skin looked pale and tired, but he was sure she would fit the bill.
He turned for a second, his words low and quiet, his accent chiming in, “Clear this room, raid the other floors. Get anything you find, I don’t care if it’s a fucking band-aide, I want everything. As soon as you’re done, get to the new location. I’ll be there soon.” With that he turned, his fingers lowering to his hip where a large steal bowie knife sat as he strode from the room, keeping his steps quite, his body carefully hidden from her view.
He stalked her like a predator of the night, watching her from the door way of the room she had inhabited, seeing her take her shoes off, taking his opportunity to strike. He quickly walked over to her, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other hand pressing the knife firmly to her porcelain neck, listening to the small whimper that had come from her throat. He inhaled deeply as his head lowered, taking in the scent of her shampoo, something fruity, something feminine, something he had missed for so long. He eyed her natural platinum locks as he spoke to her, his voice much more firm than what it had been with his men.
“You’re coming with me. Scream, and I will slit your throat faster than you can blink.” He let out roughly. Of course it was against was few morals he still had, but he needed to get her to Bane and if threatening her life would do it, then so be it.
Their new hiding space was nestled deep in the Appalachian Mountains, sitting like a steal walled fortress in the center of low valley. They were essentially hidden from the world.
CiCi’s quivering, sleep deprived body had been forced on a long and restless ride, and now she stood, still with Isaac Barsaad behind her, this time he had no weapon, he had no need for one, there was no way she would be escaping from here. Her eyes were focused solely on the man before her though, his body lifelessly laying against a low mattress a wide deep wound covering a large portion of his massive chest. She would never have known who this man was, but the mask was a clear give away.
“Your new job, Doctor, is to keep this man alive. You do that, and you will flourish here. You will be given splendors you could never imagine. You fail, and your fate is as good as his.” Barsaad spoke into her ear before pointing to several large duffel bags. “Anything you need, you come straight to me.”
CRAVING UPDATE: January 31, 2014
Mates: Mega Craving!
Long ago werewolves flourished through the lands, and Indian land was vast. Dirt roads littering the earth, while small one bedroom homes were made of log, and built up beside them. It used to be peaceful, it used to be safe. There were no land wars, and the people were not forced to hide their true selves.
After thousands of years of peace between the tribes, the white people moved in. The way they spoke to the tribes and belittled their elders put a fury in their minds. Yet, the Indians were outnumbered. They were forced to keep their land in small amounts, and sell the rest to the whites. At that moment, the wolves stopped appearing. Wolves were very much still alive in the tribes, but suppressed by the white man.
As time moved, a group called Rigger came to rise in what was now called the supernatural scene. Rigger hunted wolves. They were everywhere, and always a threat. The men were never allowed on reservation, yet the first step a wolf was to take outside would naturally be close to it’s last. Rigger had become a growing threat for the wolves as they became more advanced with their technologies, now knowing the exact moment a wolf takes steps past their boundaries
With the rise of Rigger though, also came a group called Westward. Westward brought the tribes their supplies when they were unable to get them their selves. The founder of Westward, Aleara West, was a prominent business women at the time, owning three saloons throughout the east corner of Arizona. She was also the lover of a tribe leader, Alpha Gray Locklear.
From Aleara and Gray, came their daughter, Pandora. She had always been small at her max height of 5’1” and her wolf was no bigger, Her skin was unnaturally pail for her tribe and her hair was white as arctic snow. Pandora’s wolf was tiny, just like her body. She looked like an average wolf, so unlike the rest of their massive furred bodies. Her fur was white, except for one bit, her paws were all midnight black, the only thing she had inherited from her father.
Pandora’s Tribe had been wiped out by Rigger, leaving her a lonely stray, roaming the North Western United States, avoiding trouble as well as she could, rarely turning into her wolf form. Yet today was her unlucky day. A silver bullet was lodged in her hind leg as a tall camo covered man ran after her, a shiny silver pistol firmly in his hand as he ran. The man was nearly as fast as her, yet when it came to maneuvering, he didn’t stand a chance. Her muzzle whimpered softly as she ran, legs aching so much already, not to mention the bullet, her chest heaved for air painfully, she’d lost him though.
Her troubles where really only starting though, as her thin wolf form nose dived into a shallow creek bed, her eyes not paying a lick of attention in her aimless run. As she stood she could only focus on what stood before her. Another wolf, only h was at least three times larger than her, snarling right in her face. He was obviously an Alpha. The small wolf whimpered at him, her head looking down, trying to show him she was no threat. The black wolf gave no answer though, his teeth digging into the scruff of her neck, not painfully, though not gently either. Her turned, toting her off, her small whimpers never seizing and her hind leg curled into her body, the silver burning at her whole body.
She was positive she was going to die, but little did she know, the Alpha had other plans for her.
CRAVING UPDATE: October 2, 2013.
The Balls in Your Field.
“Happy Retirement” flashed across everything. Bright blue ribbon with bubbled letters streamed over the windows of the massive sun room. Rays of light streamed into the room, reflecting a warm bright light against the people who occupied the space. The room was filled with creamy white tables and nice folding chairs to match, all of which had thick pale yellow bows wrapped around the middles. You would think this was a wedding when your eyes landed on the tall tiered cake that sat on one side of the room, a long buffet of food following after. The center was jam packed with people, all dressed fairly nice, most of them elderly, except one.
Hadley Parker was at the young age of 21, her thin body nestling into a corner, a narrow champagne flute firmly in her trembling fingers. Her sandy blonde hair was curled and perfectly pinned back, letting soft tendrils lay delicately against her shoulder blades. A short flowy summer dress draped against her body, it’s fringed yellow hem gently skimmed at her lightly tanned mid-thigh. Hadley stood at only 5’4” but on this particular day she wore heels, adding an 4 inches, putting her at an average 5’8”. Her beauty was practically radiating, yet here she stood, hidden in the corner, her shoulders slouched as her pale blue hues glanced about nervously.
Coach James Reed had been Hadley’s softball coach for the last 3 years, and had been coaching for the last 34 years. It was finally his time to relax. James Reed’s coaching career started after he was forced to retire from the big leagues. A knee injury had gone bad, and left him unable to play like he used to. At the age of 29, James was hired at Pittsburgh University to become the head women’s softball team coach. He was one of the best coaches Hadley had ever had.
The young women’s eyes quickly caught that man walking towards her, another in tow as he moved, his hands moving animatedly, his mouth moving quickly as he spoke excitedly. The man beside him was easily a head taller than Hadley, even with her beige platform heals, making him at least 6’3”. His chest was massively thick, his muscles pulling the pressed striped button down to its limits as they flexed unintentionally. A pair of nice grey slacks and dress shoes adorned his lower half, the striped blue shirt tucked nicely into the hem of his pants. Hadley though, was focused on his face more than anything else. His jaw was square and his face was littered with dark stubble. His lips curved softly into a smile, her teeth gleaming softly with the sun’s rays, reflecting on his deep grey eyes as well. This man was gorgeous, easily the best looking man she had ever seen.
A smile quickly plastered to her face as James approached her, his arms spread open as he moved in for a hug. Hadley wrapped her arms around the man before pulling away, unable to get a word in as James began speaking happily.
“Hadley you look beautiful.” He speaks animatedly, before turning to the man beside him. “Tommy, meet Hadley, she’s our varsity team captain, and I can assure you she will be your star play this season.”
The man grinned deviously, his hand reaching out in front of his thick chest offering it to her, “Lovely to meet you Hadley, but with all due respect James, I think we should leave that decision to me now.”
James smiled and let out a small laugh as Hadley’s thin fingers reached out to shake Tommy’s hand, her edges of her mouth moving into a real smile as his massive paw gripped her own, shaking it softly. He was going to challenge her. She liked it.
CRAVING UPDATE: September 13, 2013:
The Hunting Grounds:
Her dew covered skin trembled soft, the cold morning breeze chilling her to the bone. The forest was vast, glow lichen covering the base of the trees, lighting the path ways below her, making it easier for her darting white eyes. Her gaze fell to the path, just 50 ft before her he stood. His body loomed massively in the moonlight, a long shadow falling along the blue tree leaves that littered the ground. His presents froze her body, her eyes trained on him, watching as his head turned, his eyes scanning the area like a predator on the prowl. Her limbs slowly came to, her hands moving from her lap, her knees bending as she moved to stand, her dainty feet balancing the best she could on top of the thin tree branch. she moved slowly, quietly, her movements carefully thought out. The tree limbs creaked under her tiny weight, her eyes clenching closed as her body froze once more, her hands aching softly as she clenched at the branch above her. A sinister grin fell upon the mans lips watching her move, or rather not move, almost as if she knew. As if she knew that he had found her. She could run, but she couldn't hide.
CRAVING UPDATE: September 22, 2013:
Vampire / Blood Slave
-Blood Singers. A world where vampires ruled, and humans were merely food, there were blood singers. A vampire who had his blood singer was much more powerful with, than without. They are like mates, eternally bound upon first glance, and once bound physically, the singer becomes immortal as long as their owner still lives.
He’s looking for his blood singer, she gets stuck in the middle of his raid, but she’s not going down without a fight. As a human she feels no bond to him, and he could care less for feelings, he only wants power.
How far can she push him before he brakes, or brakes her?
CRAVING UPDATE: September 23, 2013
Of Love and Gore:
Elwin had known her for a long time, almost 15 years now, but she never thought that their friendship would come to this.
Their home was not modest in any form, nor should it be for the business they ran in. International drug traders as they liked to call it. They didn’t actually “deal” drugs per say… they just set dealers up with dealers in other countries. It was an at home booming business.
The house was two story, with a large basement. 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a huge kitchen, and last but not least, the “play room” in the basement. The play room was a place the couple often found themselves, and currently was where Elwin waited.
Her chest heaved heavily, as best as she could at least. The room was clean, almost unnaturally so, and the dark cement floors reeked of bleach. On one side of the room was a long tall cabinet, with four doors and a shining black finish. On the opposite side was a long short counter, various containers of different sizes and cylinder containers littered the top. At the end of the counter, sat a rectangular glass aquarium.
In the center of the room sat a shiny metal surgical table with small dash shaped cut outs every two inches. Currently, the table was occupied by Elwin, her entire body strapped down painfully by thick leather straps. The straps were pulled tightly across her body, digging into her skin, holding her body perfectly still. She was completely bare, and the table had been turned slightly, reclining back so that she was half way upside down, her bright red hair pooling slightly on the floor as it draped off the table.
Her neck was covered in a thick leather posture collar, one of the thick leather straps crossing over it, holding her neck down firmly. Her eyes were half way open, her skin prickling softly, feeling the soft movement of the creature that had first been placed against her body, It’s legs moved eerily against her hip, threatening to move lower, leaving her to panic and dart her eyes, searching for her lover.
Even if she were there, it would do Elwin no help. She liked to watch the suffering.
CRAVING UPDATE: Updated September 23, 2013
The Box:
This was punishment. To most it just looked like a box, maybe even a cup holder, but those who knew specifically what it was for, would cringe on sight. The box was a plain polished cherry wood with four round holes cut into the top and on each side was a round metal eyelet loop protruding just below the top edge. There was a split directly down the middle of each set of holes and four hinges on one side so it could be opened. It was just a box.
Peitra knew better though. She was just a young girl at the age of 18 when she experienced her first encounter with the box. Having been dating a man who was nearly ten years older than her since she was 16, she had learned a few new tricks, yet avoiding trouble was never one of them. Peitra had a quick tongue and she often had problems controlling her langue, something that Christopher regularly warned her about. So at the naïve age of 18, freshly legal and still an untouched virgin she learned her lesson. The box, was no place she wanted to go.
Unfortunate for her, it had become a regular meeting place for her and her boyfriend and today was no different. As time had gone by one thing had changed though and very drastically, the extremeness of her punishments. At first it was just the box, then it was a gag, then a collar and so on. This, was the worst yet.
Her wrists had been firmly placed into the box but not before two straight pins were placed under each of her well-manicured nails. Her ankles had also been secured in place, a thin piece of twine looping around each of her dainty toes, then curving around her ankle, bending them back uncomfortably. As soon as she heard that tiny click she knew there was no talking him out of this. The box now held her hands and feet hostage, leaving her no place to run.
Slowly Christopher would circle her, smirking at his work, watching her cringe at the small amount of pain he was putting her through thus far. This was nothing.
Soon after her neck had been put in a thick steel boned posture collar, a short chain attached to it and connected to one of the loops on the box, forcing her body to ache awkwardly. An inflatable gag had been slipped into her mouth quickly after Christopher had relived his throbbing erection inside of it. She was left with an aching jaw and a mouthful of cum as the inflatable was pushed to capacity. Her silky blonde hair had been tied perfectly with a thick length of rope and pulled up, attached firmly to a beam just above her head, forcing her into a middle ground with the collar.
As you moved down her body you would notice that her once unpierced now had tiny rings hanging from them. The rings had a long strand of thread attached pulling her nipples painfully towards the sides of the box, where each piece of twine had been tied off on the loops. Her stomach sloshed painfully as a mixture of ice cold water and Christopher’s piss were pumped into it causing not only an uncomfortable fullness, but unbearable cramps as well.
Accompanying the rubber enema tubing was an anal hook. The ball at the end was an enormous 50MM and hardly fit into her tight hole.
A pumping ball hung limply from her cunt, attached to it was a thick black rubber dildo which was locked into place with a leather chastity belt wrapped tightly around her waist. The dildo had been pumped nearly 40 times before he stopped, sure that she had been stretched beyond her limits, knowing her cunt would gape for days after.
Christopher circler Peirta once more before stopping in front of her, and kneeling down, a devious grin on his lip, a sadistic glint in his eye. Heavy tears ran down her eyes as her hips squired unstably, her eyes almost begging him to release her. That wasn’t going to happen though, she could say no, she could stop this all now, but it would take more than a begging glance. The box was her punishment after all.
CRAVING UPDATE: September 27, 2013.
Saved by Death
Tinsley had been fighting hematological malignancies, or cancer of the blood, since she was 5 years old. It had been a miracle that she had made it this long and at the age of 22 the cancer had finally won.
As she sat in death's bed, her mother sat beside her, holding her hand tightly, watching her daughter waist away. Then he came.
He took her to the underworld. He took her to his home. Death saved her, but did he really?