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Meteorite
- Joined
- Feb 12, 2017
As the title states, I am looking for a very kinky, pretty messed up partner for an extreme roleplay. This will not be for the faint of heart. I'm looking for someone who can type to a fairly high standard. I'm not expected Shakespeare here, but I am expecting you to type in sentences, use punctuation, and reply with at least a couple of decently size paragraphs.
What makes this RP unique (I hope) is that your character may not survive. At certain times, I will flip a coin or roll a die to determine what happens to your character. You might be fine, you might be hurt or maimed, or you might be killed. At that point, you can give up or switch to another woman within the complex.
The following kinks WILL appear in the RP, so if you cannot handle these kinks, this may not be for you:
The following kinks MAY appear at the participant's discretion:
However, I will say that I want to keep this within the realms of moderate realism. No footlong cocks, no back-breaking tits, no anime-girls or god characters. This will be set in the relatively far future, so technology will have advanced a bit, to the point where life-threatening injured can be reversed and prosthetics are more advanced. No mechs, no telekenetics, no magic.
Below is just a sample of what I have planned.
You finally begin to come to. The last few days have been a blur. You aren't even sure if you're working in days at this point. Weeks could have passed and you wouldn't know. Whatever they've been pumping into your veins has kept you so sedated that only hours might have passed, but the pounding pain and nausea makes you feel like you've aged years. Your ears ring and eyes burn. Your parched lips feel like they might crack as you run your mouth over them. Your head slowly, surely, begins to stop spinning and your stomach slowly settles. As your eyes finally begin to stop spinning, you realise your nightmare has only just begun...
You have only a very vague recollection of your past. You lived in a little town on the edge of the capital. You remember being on the phone to your mother, complaining about all the soldiers patrolling around your town, harassing the local women. You remember kissing your boyfriend tearfully as he was dragged off to war. You remember the men in their grey camouflage outfits breaking into your home when you were alone. You feel them... between your legs, inside you, sticking a needle into your neck when they were finished with you.
You begin to remember your time in captivity. You recall only sensations and senses; you remember feeling like you were drowning as the soldiers tortured you, your remembered the feeling of the cold metal floor against your bare skin, tubes delivering nutrients and water being shoved down your throat, and of large surgical instruments being forced inside you.
You fumble in the pitch black of your cell. As tears begin to flood your eyes and horror fills your throat, your hands touch the cool metal floor and walls of your new home. There is nothing in here but you. No food, no water, no toilet, no bed. It is just a steel box with barely enough room to lie down. Sobbing softly, your fingers trace down your naked body, feeling small bruises over your flesh, and a growing mound of hair below your navel. Your fingers reach your sore, violated hole and jump away as the pain bites your body. This is only the beginning of your dehumanisation.
Hours pass as you sit on the floor of your cell. It has been designed in such a way that your senses are almost totally deprived. You see nothing. You can only your own breathing. All you can smell is your own filth. Suddenly, with a deep metallic clunk, your cell is flooded with light. Your eyes burn, but eventually, your vision returns. You see two silhouettes standing before you, and a part of your wishes to jump forward and grasp onto them, to beg for release from the hell. Your hopes of saviour are soon dashed...
"On your feet, participant." Says one of the silhouettes, their voice disguised by a robotic voice-changer. More features begin to come clear. The grey fatigues, the assault rifles, the masks... soldiers. You just want to fall to the floor and cry. "On your feet!" Says the solider again, stepping into your cell.
This is the fate unfolding for just one of many hundreds of women in this underground facility. Most will not survive. Most will die or be retired during processing and many more will be killed for the entertainment of their shadowy new overlords.
As for the overlords... you will not find out much about them. They are rich men and women with dark tastes who now rule over the world. You are just one of many unwilling initiates in their new scheme to create a group of broken, perfect female toys. Some will be kept for sexual entertainment, some will be killed for fun, some will see an even worse fate than death...
If you're interested or want to know more, please PM me and I will get back to you ASAP.
What makes this RP unique (I hope) is that your character may not survive. At certain times, I will flip a coin or roll a die to determine what happens to your character. You might be fine, you might be hurt or maimed, or you might be killed. At that point, you can give up or switch to another woman within the complex.
The following kinks WILL appear in the RP, so if you cannot handle these kinks, this may not be for you:
- misogyny
- violence
- blood and gore
- non-consensual sex
- body-modification
- character death
The following kinks MAY appear at the participant's discretion:
- scat (preferably light scat)
- watersports
- beastiality
- absolutely anything else that you may like to include
However, I will say that I want to keep this within the realms of moderate realism. No footlong cocks, no back-breaking tits, no anime-girls or god characters. This will be set in the relatively far future, so technology will have advanced a bit, to the point where life-threatening injured can be reversed and prosthetics are more advanced. No mechs, no telekenetics, no magic.
Below is just a sample of what I have planned.
You finally begin to come to. The last few days have been a blur. You aren't even sure if you're working in days at this point. Weeks could have passed and you wouldn't know. Whatever they've been pumping into your veins has kept you so sedated that only hours might have passed, but the pounding pain and nausea makes you feel like you've aged years. Your ears ring and eyes burn. Your parched lips feel like they might crack as you run your mouth over them. Your head slowly, surely, begins to stop spinning and your stomach slowly settles. As your eyes finally begin to stop spinning, you realise your nightmare has only just begun...
You have only a very vague recollection of your past. You lived in a little town on the edge of the capital. You remember being on the phone to your mother, complaining about all the soldiers patrolling around your town, harassing the local women. You remember kissing your boyfriend tearfully as he was dragged off to war. You remember the men in their grey camouflage outfits breaking into your home when you were alone. You feel them... between your legs, inside you, sticking a needle into your neck when they were finished with you.
You begin to remember your time in captivity. You recall only sensations and senses; you remember feeling like you were drowning as the soldiers tortured you, your remembered the feeling of the cold metal floor against your bare skin, tubes delivering nutrients and water being shoved down your throat, and of large surgical instruments being forced inside you.
You fumble in the pitch black of your cell. As tears begin to flood your eyes and horror fills your throat, your hands touch the cool metal floor and walls of your new home. There is nothing in here but you. No food, no water, no toilet, no bed. It is just a steel box with barely enough room to lie down. Sobbing softly, your fingers trace down your naked body, feeling small bruises over your flesh, and a growing mound of hair below your navel. Your fingers reach your sore, violated hole and jump away as the pain bites your body. This is only the beginning of your dehumanisation.
Hours pass as you sit on the floor of your cell. It has been designed in such a way that your senses are almost totally deprived. You see nothing. You can only your own breathing. All you can smell is your own filth. Suddenly, with a deep metallic clunk, your cell is flooded with light. Your eyes burn, but eventually, your vision returns. You see two silhouettes standing before you, and a part of your wishes to jump forward and grasp onto them, to beg for release from the hell. Your hopes of saviour are soon dashed...
"On your feet, participant." Says one of the silhouettes, their voice disguised by a robotic voice-changer. More features begin to come clear. The grey fatigues, the assault rifles, the masks... soldiers. You just want to fall to the floor and cry. "On your feet!" Says the solider again, stepping into your cell.
This is the fate unfolding for just one of many hundreds of women in this underground facility. Most will not survive. Most will die or be retired during processing and many more will be killed for the entertainment of their shadowy new overlords.
As for the overlords... you will not find out much about them. They are rich men and women with dark tastes who now rule over the world. You are just one of many unwilling initiates in their new scheme to create a group of broken, perfect female toys. Some will be kept for sexual entertainment, some will be killed for fun, some will see an even worse fate than death...
If you're interested or want to know more, please PM me and I will get back to you ASAP.