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whtbitch4u2own
Star
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2013
Please keep in mind these few things before you message me as these are some sort of a requirement that I seek from my partners
-First person (preferred) and Third person
-Decent post length 2 to 4 paragraphs (Hence, no one liners)
-Long term setting
-Please be willing to discuss the faceclaims (no animes) as I think visuals add more to the RP
-Turn offs: scats, vore, lactation, bimbofication, pregnancy (risk is fine).
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My first Asian (or Indian) Girlfriend
[Interracial, WMAF, size play, size queens, slow burn turning into kink exploraton and more, using VISUALS are a MUST ]
My brain was still processing calling IT to fix my computer and then having you walk through my office door. You were not what I typically thought of when the phrase "Information Technology" popped up. Sure, you were Indian, I guess that stereotype fits. But you were a woman, a young one at that, early 20's for sure, but you could convince me you were still in college. But the biggest way in which you stood out was insanely hot you were. Even at work and not trying, your hair up in a bun and a baggy grey cardigan over black slim jogger pants, it was clear how hot you were.-First person (preferred) and Third person
-Decent post length 2 to 4 paragraphs (Hence, no one liners)
-Long term setting
-Please be willing to discuss the faceclaims (no animes) as I think visuals add more to the RP
-Turn offs: scats, vore, lactation, bimbofication, pregnancy (risk is fine).
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My first Asian (or Indian) Girlfriend
[Interracial, WMAF, size play, size queens, slow burn turning into kink exploraton and more, using VISUALS are a MUST ]
Your personality matched your muted outfit. You were bored, which was fair, but the dismissive tone and uninterested demeanor in any small talk or comment I might have only served to fascinate me further. I suppose you could have been a lesbian or entirely disgusted by men. But the flip side was that you just finally needed a good fucking.
As you leaned over my computer, tapping along the keyboard as you navigated my corrupted machine, your bra became visible, peaking out from the top of your t-shirt. You seemed too disinterested in work to have done it on purpose, but my guess was that you didn't know, or didn't care that I got a good long look at your black lace bra with pink trim.
My long look extended into a daydream about what your breasts must be like, deciding they were much larger than it seemed, hidden beneath your bra and t-shirt. The daydream continued until you finally snapped me out of it, asking your question for a third time.
"Ummm no sorry, I don't print much," I say, having been fully caught in the act. "You don't have to set it up," I say shrugging, trying to reduce any annoyance you may have with me.
"How about a drink though?" I say, skipping any subtlety and blurting out my come on. You struck me as a woman who had no interest in games or winding attempts at impressing you.
"After work," I say, when I don't hear an immediate no. "That's what, in a half hour?" If you were disgusted by me then a simple no would send you back downstairs, never to see me again. But my gamble was that you were a straight to the point kind of woman. And a 'yes' to my forwardness could have your ankles up by my ears about 90 minutes from now.
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Deep down, I can tell she really wants it [non-con][age-gap][incest]
What I have posted here is what goes on into the mindset of Uncle who sees reluctance as a YES from his niece. I would like to start it at the top- the first times and whatever happens after and see this as Dub con/non con turning to Con.Deep down, I can tell she really wants it [non-con][age-gap][incest]
For years the little slut had been teasing me. At every family gathering, she was practically throwing herself at me - making sure to come over and say hi, calling me her 'favorite uncle', asking me about my dating life, offer to grab me a beer, and keep me up to date on everything she was studying at school. She'd wear those tight jeans that hugged her hips to highlight her ass, waving it in my face, or those shorts to show off her legs. I kept my hands off, of course, because I'm a gentleman and she's my sister's kid; we're family, you know?
But she just kept teasing and teasing. When she moved to the city, she told people it was to be closer to campus, but I knew she was just trying to get closer to me. When she called and said she was having 'car trouble' and asked if I could give her a ride 'back to her place', I knew what she really wanted. And then, when we got there, and I started to touch her, she was all like, "Jake, don't! Please..." but if she had really wanted me to stop, why didn't she call the police? And she stopped complaining as soon as my hands were around her throat - I knew she liked it rough; the skinny ones always do - and my cock was out, she was soaking, and when I pumped her full of cum, I felt her squirm, heard her groans.
I don't know why she's telling people she got raped. We both know that's not what happened. She had been pushing me to it for years. I don't know why she blocked me, but the fact that she didn't say anything about me to her mom is proof that she doesn't REALLY think it was rape - otherwise she'd go to the cops. I mean, I get it, sluts like that can't just be honest and say what they really want - they gotta go through this 'Oh, I'm a good girl and I didn't want it.' I understand.
Which is why it came as no surprise when the text came through: Hi... can you come over?
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Airport- Layover!
The airport was a haven from the thunderstorm that raged outside. Sheets of rain hitting against the massive glass windows, the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the sky. Although you couldn't hear it the violent waving of flags outside let you know the wind was howling. The jackets of the poor souls still stuck outside dancing in the wind as they ran for cover under the belly of the airport.
I had sunk into one of the uncomfortable chairs, my patience wearing thin as the hours of my layover dragged on. The departure board, perpetually updated with "DELAYED" for my flight, the list of "DELAYED growing longer. It was a cruel reminder of the day. The airport was cozy. Restaurant lights still illuminated the long terminal. The artificial lights bright and warm. A contrast to the the storm outside which felt dire. Even casting a sense of fear among some of those stuck in the entire terminal.
As the hours passed, the storm's intensity only grew. The steady drone of the airport's announcements along with louder cracks of thunder made it impossible to ignore. Passengers became wrestles, some unruly. People starting to separate corners, some started making early exits to the door. Cancelling their plans altogether. Some even huddled near the bathrooms, just in case a storm shelter was needed.
Eventually, the announcement came—flights were cancelled.
The volume in the room erupted into a sudden roar. Like a stampede, passengers scurried towards the front of the terminal. Refunds, reschedules, taxis, and Ubers getting people out and away from the cramped airport lounge. Not everyone left, but it seemed empty compared to just an hour ago.
I, like the few others who stayed found my corner and nestled in. As I put my headphones in ready to rest of eyes I scanned the room.
I saw her. I could no longer not see her.
Airport- Layover!
The airport was a haven from the thunderstorm that raged outside. Sheets of rain hitting against the massive glass windows, the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the sky. Although you couldn't hear it the violent waving of flags outside let you know the wind was howling. The jackets of the poor souls still stuck outside dancing in the wind as they ran for cover under the belly of the airport.
I had sunk into one of the uncomfortable chairs, my patience wearing thin as the hours of my layover dragged on. The departure board, perpetually updated with "DELAYED" for my flight, the list of "DELAYED growing longer. It was a cruel reminder of the day. The airport was cozy. Restaurant lights still illuminated the long terminal. The artificial lights bright and warm. A contrast to the the storm outside which felt dire. Even casting a sense of fear among some of those stuck in the entire terminal.
As the hours passed, the storm's intensity only grew. The steady drone of the airport's announcements along with louder cracks of thunder made it impossible to ignore. Passengers became wrestles, some unruly. People starting to separate corners, some started making early exits to the door. Cancelling their plans altogether. Some even huddled near the bathrooms, just in case a storm shelter was needed.
Eventually, the announcement came—flights were cancelled.
The volume in the room erupted into a sudden roar. Like a stampede, passengers scurried towards the front of the terminal. Refunds, reschedules, taxis, and Ubers getting people out and away from the cramped airport lounge. Not everyone left, but it seemed empty compared to just an hour ago.
I, like the few others who stayed found my corner and nestled in. As I put my headphones in ready to rest of eyes I scanned the room.
I saw her. I could no longer not see her.
She had claimed a seat near the window, her large duffel bag at her feet. She stared out at the storm, her silhouette outlined by the flickering lightning. Every now and then, she would glance at the departure board or check her phone. Frustration rang across over face, resignation, defeat.
Despite the bustling activity, her stillness was almost serene. The rhythmic tapping of the rain against the glass created a steady backdrop as I got lost in her beauty. Her eyes looked out upon and gazed the room before meeting mine. We sat, silent, unspoken eyes connected as the storm and chaos around us continued.
But there are always a few girls like you. Actually rare! One that catches everyone's attention with how they smell, how they move, and most importantly, how their petite body comes to everyone's view when passing through the damn security checks. Maybe that time when you had to remove your zipper hoodie only to expose your cute little top, toned midrif and petite waits. So yes, I saw you.....I could no longer not see YOU!
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Druged, used, deflowered
You looked at yourself in the mirror for what seemed the 10th time tonight. Your first month of college had been everything you had hoped for and more. After finally getting away from my helicopter parents and having the freedoms you always desired, you were having such an incredible time. You joined some clubs on campus, became social with the people in my dorm building, and even started making friends with some of the people in your classes. One of which actually invited you to a frat party that would be happening later tonight.
And that's how you found yourself in front of the mirror tonight, spending an hour getting ready in hopes of making a good impression on everyone. It wasn't just your first college party, it was your first party period. You were new to all of this, but you told yourself that you wanted to put yourself out there and have the social life you always wished you could have. And from what you had heard, everyone would be there. And unbeknownst to you, that included me.
I had met you in my calculus class the other day. It was something I needed for my major, to fill my schedule. I was a senior, you were a freshman. We made small talk a few times, and by the end of the first week of class together I had asked you out, to which you politely declined despite the fact that you liked me. I am your perfect, chiseled jock. It was nothing personal, you just didn't want to tie yourself down to a relationship when you had just started to have an ounce of freedom. You didn't think anything of it, but little did you know how personally I had taken it. I am never denied!
And so when I see you in the corner of the party, standing by yourself, I come to a decision. I am a member of this frat, and I knew what kind of power I held in here. You knew nothing, and no one had told you how to keep yourself safe in a place like this. No one told you not to take any drinks you didn't see get poured. No one told you to never come alone. No one told you that you could get raped or dateraped tonight.
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Supergirl meets Christian Grey
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Supergirl meets Christian Grey
This concepts has been on my mind for the last few days, where WHAT IF has been eating at me. So, what if Supergirl meets Christian Grey and she willingly submits to him, having found herself falling for him hard. And with that, her full on submission come into play but she is too powerful and to tame her, he gifts her Kryptonite jewelry to weaken her strong self just enough so she could be a normal human being? What all could they explore? I imagine they meet on happenstance, kick it off, he doesn't know she's the supergirl until she confronts to him as their relationship gets serious. She would inform him of her weakness and to give her normal life with normal relationship, she is to wear kryptonite embedded earrings, choker, maybe a belly ring...but it all makes for a great relationship where he gets what he wants- her full submission.
I know, I am not giving much but need a creative RP partner to take to this RP.
Secret life
luxury escort x customer, modern setting, ethical issues (infidelity, prostitution), age cap, multi character!!!
PLOT: A girl who is in her mid-20s is used to work in a bar and had a hard time making ends meet with her crappy salary. Need I say more? She decided to quit her job and try her luck as a luxury escort in New York. Something on the side where she has to work less and make more money so she can still study full time. She has her own profile on some specialized website and, well, she's just a couple of clicks (and some hundreds of dollars) away.
EXPECTATIONS: There's room for more, if only we dare to dig a little deeper inside the relationship between her and other characters. The way I see it, there are some interesting ethical issues to be dealt with. I'd like to have her interact with different characters (and players, and stories, and...) and see how it goes. It requires you to play the girl while I play different men, so approach me if you have ideas of your own on how to proceed.
It's smutty but I want there to be a plot as well. So let's try to keep this fun.
Opening post:
The girl still remembered her first day of classes here. She couldn't contain her excitement since she had worked really hard to be where she was. It was hard as it was to come to the States on a scholarship after doing so well in first year of college back in her home country. She had always been that excellent student and even though her mother had raised her single handedly, she never felt anything lacking in her upbringing. Her mother made sure that she was raised right and that their culture was made part of her no matter where she went in her life.
For now, it had brought her into the States where she’d already done a year of studying. It wasn’t as stressful as she’d thought, having to work at a bar to get some cash flowing in while the scholarship paid for her tuitions for the first semester. That was the deal, the scholarship. The counselors had told her if she kept up her good grades, she can apply and be granted some scholarship every term. Her mother had made sure that The girl wouldn’t have to worry about rent and what she earned when into paying bills and what not. She knew that her job was also taking a toll on her, but she studied just as hard because she knew that if she had a better GPA, she can get private scholarships since the college wouldn’t give her any starting next year. It would be the third year and she knew that the classes would only get harder. Not to mention, she also wanted to continue studying and get accepted into a master's program in the same prestigious college. The bartender job was the only thing she was able to find that fitted her time perfectly, evening and weekend hours. This way, she had all day, every day where she can tend to her classes.
She wanted to do this on her own, the education. The girl had always been a hard working girl and that wasn’t going to change now. Having worked hard in first year, she had a very nice GPA, making her eligible for scholarship. And it was the very first week of her second year when the scholarship event was being held. There were many people present and when her name was finally being announced, she rushed from the crowd and onto the stage only to find out she received stipend for the book expenses only. That was merely a few hundred bucks. She was planning to quit her bartending job if she’d received this scholarship, but she didn’t. And when the bar owner called to see if she wanted to pick up a shit, she had no other option but to say ‘yes’. Her bank account was barely $2000, that’s including the last pay she received a day before. However, it wasn’t much, 10 and hour, that too part time.
Being the conserved little girl in this new country, she was still getting accustomed to the lifestyle here, for the past year. Though she had natural nice curves, she wasn’t the one to show it off like other girls...at least not yet. She didn’t need to apply make up knowing she had nothing to hide. Her eyes stood out with perfectly shaped eyebrows and one of those unique beauty with exotic looks...definitely passed on from her mother's side of the family. One thing for sure, she does get hit on, a lot, at the bar. There were so many guys, all different age and all they wanted to do was get into her panties. It was disgusting. A few guys had even made some lucrative offer that made her want to throw up. However, those offers were made at a wrong time. She wasn’t as desperate as she was now. Dressed in a white loose top that showed a bit of midriff, a pair of jeans as she kept it to casuals for tonight, she looked at the clock, 4 hours down and 1 more to go. She wiped the counter as she served a glass of chilled water and took a sip from it.
For now, it had brought her into the States where she’d already done a year of studying. It wasn’t as stressful as she’d thought, having to work at a bar to get some cash flowing in while the scholarship paid for her tuitions for the first semester. That was the deal, the scholarship. The counselors had told her if she kept up her good grades, she can apply and be granted some scholarship every term. Her mother had made sure that The girl wouldn’t have to worry about rent and what she earned when into paying bills and what not. She knew that her job was also taking a toll on her, but she studied just as hard because she knew that if she had a better GPA, she can get private scholarships since the college wouldn’t give her any starting next year. It would be the third year and she knew that the classes would only get harder. Not to mention, she also wanted to continue studying and get accepted into a master's program in the same prestigious college. The bartender job was the only thing she was able to find that fitted her time perfectly, evening and weekend hours. This way, she had all day, every day where she can tend to her classes.
She wanted to do this on her own, the education. The girl had always been a hard working girl and that wasn’t going to change now. Having worked hard in first year, she had a very nice GPA, making her eligible for scholarship. And it was the very first week of her second year when the scholarship event was being held. There were many people present and when her name was finally being announced, she rushed from the crowd and onto the stage only to find out she received stipend for the book expenses only. That was merely a few hundred bucks. She was planning to quit her bartending job if she’d received this scholarship, but she didn’t. And when the bar owner called to see if she wanted to pick up a shit, she had no other option but to say ‘yes’. Her bank account was barely $2000, that’s including the last pay she received a day before. However, it wasn’t much, 10 and hour, that too part time.
Being the conserved little girl in this new country, she was still getting accustomed to the lifestyle here, for the past year. Though she had natural nice curves, she wasn’t the one to show it off like other girls...at least not yet. She didn’t need to apply make up knowing she had nothing to hide. Her eyes stood out with perfectly shaped eyebrows and one of those unique beauty with exotic looks...definitely passed on from her mother's side of the family. One thing for sure, she does get hit on, a lot, at the bar. There were so many guys, all different age and all they wanted to do was get into her panties. It was disgusting. A few guys had even made some lucrative offer that made her want to throw up. However, those offers were made at a wrong time. She wasn’t as desperate as she was now. Dressed in a white loose top that showed a bit of midriff, a pair of jeans as she kept it to casuals for tonight, she looked at the clock, 4 hours down and 1 more to go. She wiped the counter as she served a glass of chilled water and took a sip from it.
OR
A GOOGLE DOC link to my first post is here.
Where we go from here is up to us. We can discuss or you can throw me an opening post.
Say, she’d made a profile and uploaded a few pictures of her and she’s at the bar, checking her profile in her phone when an email message from the site pops up. She wouldn’t quit her job right now, only once she has more stable income. Variations are welcomed.
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