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the fapfic that was promised
Planetoid
- Joined
- Sep 17, 2015
Hey gang,
I'm looking to do a little imitation of that low-low-fantasy pulp. Idea is: during the Stark diaspora, poor little Sansa flees to Essos and ends up purchased or procured by a slave trainer who must groom her in the ways of her new life and maybe shop her around to rich prospective suitors, sorta like Dany's arc at the beginning of the series.
My boy's a pro, playboy libertine. He knows what to do with girls like Sansa. And he's going to take his time and have fun. But you never know with matters of the heart and Stockholm Syndrome, maybe he sees something in her, maybe she's upped her throne-game... maybe he finds out she likes it.
But whatever the case things get messy when you mix lust, love and business.
Here's a vertical slice of what I'm talking about.
Somewhere in Essos..
So anyways looking for: someone who enjoys writing posts as much as receiving them, who likes to work on characters and scenes, likes playing dress up via text, doesn't mind a little bit of rough, degrading, anatomically diverse sex, can appreciate a little humor and at least 2 types of irony, and maybe at one time experienced angst regarding the use of adverbs (but you're better now).
If that's you, gimme a PM and maybe we can work something out. Willing to entertain changes or substitutions if you're just that bad at being the good girl or just that good of a bad girl.
I'm looking to do a little imitation of that low-low-fantasy pulp. Idea is: during the Stark diaspora, poor little Sansa flees to Essos and ends up purchased or procured by a slave trainer who must groom her in the ways of her new life and maybe shop her around to rich prospective suitors, sorta like Dany's arc at the beginning of the series.
My boy's a pro, playboy libertine. He knows what to do with girls like Sansa. And he's going to take his time and have fun. But you never know with matters of the heart and Stockholm Syndrome, maybe he sees something in her, maybe she's upped her throne-game... maybe he finds out she likes it.
But whatever the case things get messy when you mix lust, love and business.
Here's a vertical slice of what I'm talking about.
Somewhere in Essos..
- Moonlight came off the pool casting its aqueous luminescence onto the domed ceilings. There was the echoing of splashes and the low murmur of distant conversations; each one held within their own little bubble seemingly ignorant of the others, each one sharing a secret passed through a whisper. Sansa shared hers' without saying a word.
Perhaps if the others knew who Sansa was they would have gawked and stared. But the only one who did was standing in the water waiting for her. Framed beneath his long hair, his eyes locked onto her the entire time. Watching her girlish movements: diffident brushing of her hand against her body, drinking her in from head to toe. If Sansa had seen him as a strange and foreign man, then in the moonlight skinny Sansa Stark must have been the most exotic creature he had ever seen.
Could she really be a girl so innocent to the pleasures of the flesh? A maiden so pure to have never experienced a simple cum? He looked upon her, her expression was plagued with confusion and conflict, her fresh faced beauty sullied by his own hand, by his own silver seed of lust. The juxtaposition of innocence and degradation made him stir, made him hard, it couldn't be helped the wretched beast that he was. But he could not deny this tinge of pity that slowly worked its way into his heart. It was a old ancient feeling, like something from a past life, or a childhood nostalgia he could not quite place, he couldn't even remember the last time he felt such a thing. But he knew what it was. It was a chivalrous instinct.
Perhaps there were fewer things apart in this world than a knight and a slave trainer. And in a conscious logical mind, he knew he'd gone down the one path too far to be turning around. But then he felt like perhaps he would have made a change. Perhaps he could be someone different for this beautiful little girl he had held hard against these bath-tiles and with whom he would make a slave.
Irrationally maybe, upon a lark, he thought that he could try.
He took his hand that had held her hostage against the hard floor and he picked her up and cradled her against his chest. He stood up and walked her out into the water. The moon peeked in high from the clerestory windows above them.
He looked upon her and he said, "Hold your breath."
Then he lowered her whole into the water; washing away her tears and his own cum from her face and body. Her crimson hair unfurled, blossoming like a brilliant swirling halo beneath the ripples of the pool. The bathhouse felt cavernous. There was nothing else but the two of them and the water.
In that moment it seemed he could have been anyone. A sense of hope swelled within him, that perhaps by the time he rose from this bath, he would be transformed. Into something, someone. Someone who would not bring harm to the pale beautiful things of this world, who would not leave marks upon their little bodies, someone who would not defile them and rob them of their innocence and joy and turn them into the wretched things that he bought and sold to earn his keep.
She looked fae-like in the water, lit by a shaft of moonlight from overhead like something that cannot exist in his world. But he had her, in his arms, within in his power, and by right of law. And in a quiet moment of resignation, as he gazed upon her otherworldly beauty, he came to realize that he could never be those things. He could not be a chivalrous man. He could not change his ways. And he could not give her up.
He would not be redeemed.
What he held in his arms was his investment. And if he did not turn a hefty profit by selling her as the pleasure slave to the harem of some rich man he would be penniless. And though he felt like he was holding something precious and rare in his arms, he knew that if he did not do what he was going to do, someone else would.
And perhaps most pressing was that he could not ignore that this feeble and meek thing in his arms exuded a purity that was attuned to his own insatiable hunger to defile. To wallow in the joy of it, the thought drove his cock stiff beneath, in the depths of the pool.
All girls become whores it seemed.
- Moonlight came off the pool casting its aqueous luminescence onto the domed ceilings. There was the echoing of splashes and the low murmur of distant conversations; each one held within their own little bubble seemingly ignorant of the others, each one sharing a secret passed through a whisper. Sansa shared hers' without saying a word.
So anyways looking for: someone who enjoys writing posts as much as receiving them, who likes to work on characters and scenes, likes playing dress up via text, doesn't mind a little bit of rough, degrading, anatomically diverse sex, can appreciate a little humor and at least 2 types of irony, and maybe at one time experienced angst regarding the use of adverbs (but you're better now).
If that's you, gimme a PM and maybe we can work something out. Willing to entertain changes or substitutions if you're just that bad at being the good girl or just that good of a bad girl.
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