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Moon
- Joined
- Aug 23, 2018
Hi everyone! I thought it time to throw up a request thread as I haven't had one in awhile.
About me: I've been roleplaying sexually for several years. I did some D&D and a text-based WOW type game. I'm very experienced.
Genres: I'm mainly looking for realistic modern slice of life, but that's too limiting really because I do like sci-fi, historical, and very light fantasy elements (about on the level of GoT).
Grammar\spelling: I've had occasional fun with people who don't write well, but it's rare.
Smut\Plot: Smut only bores me. Plot only bores me. Absolutely won't do either. The ratio I like depends on my partner and the scene we are doing.
Post Frequency: I get busy sometimes. When we're clicking, and I'm not too busy, you'll get multiple posts per day from me. If I suddenly take days to post but used to do multiples per day, rest assured I still like you and the game I'm just busy. If I've never been a quick poster, that could mean I'm not into the RP just yet, but that can change. Awkwardly parting ways without communication is fine, everyone appears to do it, but of course a message is preferred, especially with feedback on what didn't work out for you. Feel free to pester me - I do miss messages or forget I got them on occasion.
Perspective - I prefer third, as most people do apparently, but if you're one of those whackos who like first person I'm pretty good at it and willing to do it.
Nos: For limits, you can find that on my f-list. Please do not send paragraphs of YC speaking aloud unless there is some plot-driven reason MC would not interrupt. I much prefer a shorter dialogue post. Other than this, I'm pretty open-minded.
Things I might do depending on the circumstances, and why:
Incest - it doesn't by itself turn me on. Now if there's some plot reason, like Cersei and Jaime from GoT, okay, cool, that's hot. But the mere fact that we're related doesn't get my cock stirring.
Non-Human Characters - I don't do furries, anthros, etc. I am open, however, to some mild non-humanness, such as a Greek Goddess with transformative abilities who usually appears in human form, an Orion slave girl, Atlanteans, human-like extraterrestials, basic fantasy races like Elves.
Mediums: PM, for the most part. I'll thread with you but only if you impress me with a writing sample etc., and there are some roles I just won't thread. We can discuss. Email\Discord\Skype are also potentially available.
Plot Starters
Simple Pairings (Plots TBD)
Secretary\Boss
Cheerleader\football player(s)
Schoolgirl\Any (priest, teacher, principal, coach)
Customer\Escort
Customer\Stripper
Doorman\Stripper
Club owner\Stripper
Conquering General\Slave (either by taking or arranged marriage - could get romantic)
Fandoms: My interest in fandoms is very limited as I don't know too many that I find lead to good sexy time situations. Some I could consider, however, are:
Empire Records (duh it's in the title)
Firefly
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (but I will not play against Dawn; she is stupid)
Marvel Cinematic Universe (plus Agents)
Red Alert
Chrono Trigger\Cross
Harvest Moon
Days of Our Lives
90210 (either iteration)
Varsity Blues
Star Trek (but only in eras, real or imagined, where the skirt uniforms are in)
Star Wars (but I have some strange views about it so merits discussion first)
James Bond
Game of Thrones
Battlestar Galactica (the reboot)
Back to the Future
Terminator (John and his Terminator chick from Sarah Connor Chronicles is particularly appealing)
Edge of Tomorrow
Blue Mountain State
About me: I've been roleplaying sexually for several years. I did some D&D and a text-based WOW type game. I'm very experienced.
Genres: I'm mainly looking for realistic modern slice of life, but that's too limiting really because I do like sci-fi, historical, and very light fantasy elements (about on the level of GoT).
Grammar\spelling: I've had occasional fun with people who don't write well, but it's rare.
Smut\Plot: Smut only bores me. Plot only bores me. Absolutely won't do either. The ratio I like depends on my partner and the scene we are doing.
Post Frequency: I get busy sometimes. When we're clicking, and I'm not too busy, you'll get multiple posts per day from me. If I suddenly take days to post but used to do multiples per day, rest assured I still like you and the game I'm just busy. If I've never been a quick poster, that could mean I'm not into the RP just yet, but that can change. Awkwardly parting ways without communication is fine, everyone appears to do it, but of course a message is preferred, especially with feedback on what didn't work out for you. Feel free to pester me - I do miss messages or forget I got them on occasion.
Perspective - I prefer third, as most people do apparently, but if you're one of those whackos who like first person I'm pretty good at it and willing to do it.
Nos: For limits, you can find that on my f-list. Please do not send paragraphs of YC speaking aloud unless there is some plot-driven reason MC would not interrupt. I much prefer a shorter dialogue post. Other than this, I'm pretty open-minded.
Things I might do depending on the circumstances, and why:
Incest - it doesn't by itself turn me on. Now if there's some plot reason, like Cersei and Jaime from GoT, okay, cool, that's hot. But the mere fact that we're related doesn't get my cock stirring.
Non-Human Characters - I don't do furries, anthros, etc. I am open, however, to some mild non-humanness, such as a Greek Goddess with transformative abilities who usually appears in human form, an Orion slave girl, Atlanteans, human-like extraterrestials, basic fantasy races like Elves.
Mediums: PM, for the most part. I'll thread with you but only if you impress me with a writing sample etc., and there are some roles I just won't thread. We can discuss. Email\Discord\Skype are also potentially available.
Plot Starters
It actually could be a stripper or escort too, but the basic premise is a hot girl with some kind of connection\friendship to some nerd, which results in her getting to know his friends. Perhaps, for example, he pays her to pretend to be his girlfriend for the game night at D&D, to win a bet with his friends who say he can't swing it. Or maybe she's just sick of the jerk hot guys she's been dating and finds something appealing in how sweet the nerds are and how desperate they are to even just get a touch from her. Maybe she has a deflowering fetish. Maybe it starts like...
Bill had worked at Tilted Kilt for about two years while in college. At first he washed dishes, but then he worked his way up to assistant manager. For many reasons, being an assistant manager at anything is just about the worst job in the world, so he didn’t last long in that position, quitting over stupid rules and policies that made no sense and that he refused to implement.
Bill’s family was wealthy. He didn’t need the money. But in order to keep paying him his allowance, his car payments and insurance, gas money, and all the rest of it, his parents insisted he work a real job, learn what the world was really like. Tilted Kilt seemed perfect – interact with lots of hot girls, and make some extra money for things his parents wouldn’t pay for, like D&D books.
Lots of waitresses came and went. Hardly any of them worked there for very long. A few months was the average. Other than the restaurant’s manager, Mindy, Bill was the longest-tenured employee before he quit.
Perhaps Bill’s parents were on to something. Bill had really come a long way in his two years working there. Hot girls didn’t scare or intimidate him as much anymore. He could at least make basic conversation with them now, even if it was awkward and mostly centered around making fun of him. He was sweet, so hardly any of the girls were mean, just the ones who were mean to everyone. And more than just breaking out of his socially awkward shell a little, he’d also expanded his horizons. Growing up in a rich town, with other rich kids, Bill hadn’t had much opportunity to interact with anyone who had money troubles. Being at Tilted Kilt expanded that view a bit. He’d never understand what it was like to be poor, but now he could at least somewhat empathize with it, based on making friends with people who lacked material things.
He’d crushed on many of the flighty waitresses but there was one who was special. He almost didn’t quit just so he could be near her. He’d never been in love, so he wasn’t sure If this was it, and honestly he probably wouldn’t know it if it were. He got butterflies in his stomach just seeing her. He was nervous talking to her. He jacked off to her practically every night and once in awhile even in the bathroom at work. What was it? Yes she was hot but so were many of the others. She just stood out. He clicked with her. She laughed at his jokes. She treated him like a real friend. And she was so…. Uninhibited? She never got offended if he said the wrong thing. She seemed genuinely curious in what he was thinking and when he told her she didn’t seem to think he was weird. Everyone else did. She said exactly what she was thinking, too. That rubbed some people the wrong way. Not Bill. He asked her lots of questions about her life, even details about her sex life, and she’d share them. He’d do the same, though he had much less to talk about than she did. That seemed okay since she apparently liked to do most of the talking anyway, or so it seemed to Bill. He had no problem listening. He never imagined he could ever date her. She never acted like that might be a possibility, and he knew he was nothing like the guys she normally dated. They seemed to have a kind of friendship, which was fine. Bill enjoyed it. He longed for more, but he’d essentially made his peace with the fact that it wasn’t going to happen.
The closest they ever came to something sexual happening was when she found out what he drove. She was really into cars and he had a hot one. She begged him to drive it. She touched him. She teased him. She offered to flash things. He eventually agreed, but turned down the flashing, saying seeing her wearing almost nothing while driving his car would be plenty hot enough.
He quit the restaurant last week. Now he was back as a customer at one of her tables. The idea started as a joke between them that if he ever stopped working there he’d become one of the super-creepy regulars that they always made fun of together. Not many people were below Bill in the social hierarchy, but the regulars who would come in, he’d put them there, yeah. Bill played D&D. These guys were like a whole ‘nother level of nerd, playing Warhammer, making their own tabletop settings, etc. It was a type he’d long interacted with, being into comics, Star Wars, and other nerdy things, but he’d never quite be on the same level with those guys.
At least that was most of the regulars. Some weren’t really on the nerd spectrum, either old married dudes, or just old dudes, who didn’t seem connected to the nerd scene. They just liked to flirt, and sometimes grab. They tipped a lot more than the nerdy dudes. That’s probably why the girls let them grab, Bill always figured. The nerdy dudes were too shy to grab. They just liked to talk and have the attention of a hot girl. Even a quick tap on the forearm or sitting next to him would be plenty to titillate.
So in keeping with the joke, the week after he quit he came on one of the nights she normally worked, grinning wide. He was in a booth. She sat down and they exchanged some glances, some smirks – silently asking what are you doing here? She was used to seeing him in some kind of uniform, or awkward fitting work clothes, so he actually looked much better than usual. He had on a red and gray striped sweater with black cargo pants. He still looked disheveled, disorganized, awkward, and otherwise whatever the opposite of fierce is in a fashion sense, but for him, it was still an improvement. After the eye flirting, he was the first to talk.
He explained that he really did like the food, and the eye candy, and anyway he didn’t want to never see her again. Being one of her regulars made sense. They could continue to talk and catch up. She liked the sentiment but seemed surprised, like the idea they’d never see each other outside of work never crossed her mind, even though they basically had never seen each other outside of work. Not that there was anything wrong with them doing so, though. She implied they could hang out outside of the restaurant sometime. She said something about seeing him, hanging out, like aren’t they still friends? Can’t friends just hang out?
“Well yeah I mean I hope so. But like…. What are we going to do? We don’t exactly have similar interests. Are you going to take me clubbing with you?” He raised his eyebrow. They both knew that wasn’t going to work. He continued quickly, holding his finger up like he had an idea. “No, I know. You can come to game night. We’ll roll you up a sexy sorceress character or something and you can help us repel the Drow invasion.” He’d mentioned bits of their campaign to her before. [feel free to decide she didn’t pay attention to any of this lol]. He had said something about one of them originally playing a Drow, but the DM getting mad that he was overpowering, so he like expelled him from the Drow ranks and turned the entire Drow civilization loose on the overworld, basically forcing his character to stop it. Apparently one night he joined them, and that had pissed everyone off since this guy, Matt, was then thrust into a bunch of scenes the other players had no role in, and they got bored. They ended up watching porn instead. Schoolgirl porn. That part spurred a much longer conversation between Bill and her about porn, and schoolgirls, and how hot she was. The conversation about his campaign hadn’t exactly been two-way.
As he’s sarcastically suggesting she come over for game night, a light goes off in his head. She had joked she needed money. She had on several occasions talked about what a great escort she’d be. How she could so easily be a webcam girl. There had even been that one night [again keeping this super vague so you can fill this in how you like and\or rp it out in a flashback] where she had seemed really serious about it.
He laughed suddenly, intending to blow off what he was about to say as a joke. “Are you still looking for money? I’m sure I could throw a pot together to have you be like our stripper entertainer for game night or something. And we could catch up on shit during the down times.” He rolls his eyes. “The guys would LOVE that.” He shakes his head, already blowing it off, as he pulls over the drink menu.
They liked some of the same movies, he reasoned. Maybe they could make something of that hobby. He had a giant screen and blue ray player with surround sound in his basement, after all. Maybe they could cuddle in his basement. Maybe someday they’d make out. Probably not. Whatever. For now, Bill had every intention of showing up weekly to see her, to talk to her, to stay connected to his old job and the other people he was friendly with (though not to the same degree as her), and otherwise keep fueling his masturbation fantasies with updated images of her. If it ever became more than that… well the idea scared him, but he had come out of his shell enough in the last two years to be willing to dive in, even if he was scared.
Bill’s family was wealthy. He didn’t need the money. But in order to keep paying him his allowance, his car payments and insurance, gas money, and all the rest of it, his parents insisted he work a real job, learn what the world was really like. Tilted Kilt seemed perfect – interact with lots of hot girls, and make some extra money for things his parents wouldn’t pay for, like D&D books.
Lots of waitresses came and went. Hardly any of them worked there for very long. A few months was the average. Other than the restaurant’s manager, Mindy, Bill was the longest-tenured employee before he quit.
Perhaps Bill’s parents were on to something. Bill had really come a long way in his two years working there. Hot girls didn’t scare or intimidate him as much anymore. He could at least make basic conversation with them now, even if it was awkward and mostly centered around making fun of him. He was sweet, so hardly any of the girls were mean, just the ones who were mean to everyone. And more than just breaking out of his socially awkward shell a little, he’d also expanded his horizons. Growing up in a rich town, with other rich kids, Bill hadn’t had much opportunity to interact with anyone who had money troubles. Being at Tilted Kilt expanded that view a bit. He’d never understand what it was like to be poor, but now he could at least somewhat empathize with it, based on making friends with people who lacked material things.
He’d crushed on many of the flighty waitresses but there was one who was special. He almost didn’t quit just so he could be near her. He’d never been in love, so he wasn’t sure If this was it, and honestly he probably wouldn’t know it if it were. He got butterflies in his stomach just seeing her. He was nervous talking to her. He jacked off to her practically every night and once in awhile even in the bathroom at work. What was it? Yes she was hot but so were many of the others. She just stood out. He clicked with her. She laughed at his jokes. She treated him like a real friend. And she was so…. Uninhibited? She never got offended if he said the wrong thing. She seemed genuinely curious in what he was thinking and when he told her she didn’t seem to think he was weird. Everyone else did. She said exactly what she was thinking, too. That rubbed some people the wrong way. Not Bill. He asked her lots of questions about her life, even details about her sex life, and she’d share them. He’d do the same, though he had much less to talk about than she did. That seemed okay since she apparently liked to do most of the talking anyway, or so it seemed to Bill. He had no problem listening. He never imagined he could ever date her. She never acted like that might be a possibility, and he knew he was nothing like the guys she normally dated. They seemed to have a kind of friendship, which was fine. Bill enjoyed it. He longed for more, but he’d essentially made his peace with the fact that it wasn’t going to happen.
The closest they ever came to something sexual happening was when she found out what he drove. She was really into cars and he had a hot one. She begged him to drive it. She touched him. She teased him. She offered to flash things. He eventually agreed, but turned down the flashing, saying seeing her wearing almost nothing while driving his car would be plenty hot enough.
He quit the restaurant last week. Now he was back as a customer at one of her tables. The idea started as a joke between them that if he ever stopped working there he’d become one of the super-creepy regulars that they always made fun of together. Not many people were below Bill in the social hierarchy, but the regulars who would come in, he’d put them there, yeah. Bill played D&D. These guys were like a whole ‘nother level of nerd, playing Warhammer, making their own tabletop settings, etc. It was a type he’d long interacted with, being into comics, Star Wars, and other nerdy things, but he’d never quite be on the same level with those guys.
At least that was most of the regulars. Some weren’t really on the nerd spectrum, either old married dudes, or just old dudes, who didn’t seem connected to the nerd scene. They just liked to flirt, and sometimes grab. They tipped a lot more than the nerdy dudes. That’s probably why the girls let them grab, Bill always figured. The nerdy dudes were too shy to grab. They just liked to talk and have the attention of a hot girl. Even a quick tap on the forearm or sitting next to him would be plenty to titillate.
So in keeping with the joke, the week after he quit he came on one of the nights she normally worked, grinning wide. He was in a booth. She sat down and they exchanged some glances, some smirks – silently asking what are you doing here? She was used to seeing him in some kind of uniform, or awkward fitting work clothes, so he actually looked much better than usual. He had on a red and gray striped sweater with black cargo pants. He still looked disheveled, disorganized, awkward, and otherwise whatever the opposite of fierce is in a fashion sense, but for him, it was still an improvement. After the eye flirting, he was the first to talk.
He explained that he really did like the food, and the eye candy, and anyway he didn’t want to never see her again. Being one of her regulars made sense. They could continue to talk and catch up. She liked the sentiment but seemed surprised, like the idea they’d never see each other outside of work never crossed her mind, even though they basically had never seen each other outside of work. Not that there was anything wrong with them doing so, though. She implied they could hang out outside of the restaurant sometime. She said something about seeing him, hanging out, like aren’t they still friends? Can’t friends just hang out?
“Well yeah I mean I hope so. But like…. What are we going to do? We don’t exactly have similar interests. Are you going to take me clubbing with you?” He raised his eyebrow. They both knew that wasn’t going to work. He continued quickly, holding his finger up like he had an idea. “No, I know. You can come to game night. We’ll roll you up a sexy sorceress character or something and you can help us repel the Drow invasion.” He’d mentioned bits of their campaign to her before. [feel free to decide she didn’t pay attention to any of this lol]. He had said something about one of them originally playing a Drow, but the DM getting mad that he was overpowering, so he like expelled him from the Drow ranks and turned the entire Drow civilization loose on the overworld, basically forcing his character to stop it. Apparently one night he joined them, and that had pissed everyone off since this guy, Matt, was then thrust into a bunch of scenes the other players had no role in, and they got bored. They ended up watching porn instead. Schoolgirl porn. That part spurred a much longer conversation between Bill and her about porn, and schoolgirls, and how hot she was. The conversation about his campaign hadn’t exactly been two-way.
As he’s sarcastically suggesting she come over for game night, a light goes off in his head. She had joked she needed money. She had on several occasions talked about what a great escort she’d be. How she could so easily be a webcam girl. There had even been that one night [again keeping this super vague so you can fill this in how you like and\or rp it out in a flashback] where she had seemed really serious about it.
He laughed suddenly, intending to blow off what he was about to say as a joke. “Are you still looking for money? I’m sure I could throw a pot together to have you be like our stripper entertainer for game night or something. And we could catch up on shit during the down times.” He rolls his eyes. “The guys would LOVE that.” He shakes his head, already blowing it off, as he pulls over the drink menu.
They liked some of the same movies, he reasoned. Maybe they could make something of that hobby. He had a giant screen and blue ray player with surround sound in his basement, after all. Maybe they could cuddle in his basement. Maybe someday they’d make out. Probably not. Whatever. For now, Bill had every intention of showing up weekly to see her, to talk to her, to stay connected to his old job and the other people he was friendly with (though not to the same degree as her), and otherwise keep fueling his masturbation fantasies with updated images of her. If it ever became more than that… well the idea scared him, but he had come out of his shell enough in the last two years to be willing to dive in, even if he was scared.
Admittedly stolen. Playboy Playmate on a USO tour, and her Marine bodyguard (open to a lot of settings, even if unrealistic, for example Civil War (we'd imagine Playboy existed then or its rough equivalent), WW1 or WW2, early Cold War\Korea\Vietnam, or even a futuristic setting like Call of Duty Infinite Warfare or Wing Commander, but anyway it's a Naval fleet)
This is admittedly stolen from someone else. Some colleges used to (maybe still do) employ recruiting hostesses to tempt recruits to commit to the school. Could do a HS 15+ or college setting. I'd play multiple male characters and would ask you play at least two girls.
He’s from Chicago. He’s an auditor in his mid 20’s who’s been traveling quite a bit lately. He’s often on planes, and he hates flying. But this particular audit took him through St. Louis and Kansas City. Close enough to drive. It’s Tuesday evening around 8 pm and arrived at the standard Marriot in suburban Kansas City. His audits sometimes run late, so he has Wednesday off, with his next audit starting on Thursday. He’s looking forward to getting some extra sleep and getting some work done in the room on his laptop. For tonight, he’s trying to decide whether to get dinner, whether to stay in, whether to maybe hit up a local strip club. He’s not sure how much work he has to do yet, and he’s not sure how tired he is. He pulls into the hotel’s parking lot in his black Mustang convertible. You hear it as you are stepping out of your cab in the driveway of the hotel and also catch a glimpse.
He parks and then comes walking past you in quite a hurry as you’re paying your cab fare. He glances your way but doesn’t slow down, dragging his black wheelie suitcase behind him. He’s in a nicely cut solid gray suit, obviously tailored, with a white collared shirt, red tie, black dress socks and black dress shoes. The tie is a touch long (just below the belt buckle) and it’s also a bit loosened at the top, along with his top button. He is relatively tan, perhaps southern European in ethnicity, but definitely a white guy. His brown hair is cut very short and professional looking. It’s summer and there’s still a touch of sun so you get a look at what appear to be wide blue eyes. He’s tall at 6’2 and slim at around 165 pounds.
The automatic doors open and that turns his eyes away from you as he heads inside. You’re not far behind. As you both walk along the hallway you see to your right a large group of what look like high school or college kids, a few adults leading them, marching in from the side entrance and looking like they are heading to the front desk. You immediately speed up and go into a sprint to beat them to the front desk, and he makes the exact same move though half a second after you. That brings you about parallel with each other and he looks over – a nod of acknowledgment and competence. Once he gets going he moves a bit faster than you, but neither of them is fast enough. The group fans out across the many kiosks across the long front desk counter. Technically they’re all to the right of us as we get up there, but we’d basically be cutting if we didn’t go in back. He stops, then turns to you as you slow down as well. “Shit…” He says shaking his head but with a giant grin on his face.
He parks and then comes walking past you in quite a hurry as you’re paying your cab fare. He glances your way but doesn’t slow down, dragging his black wheelie suitcase behind him. He’s in a nicely cut solid gray suit, obviously tailored, with a white collared shirt, red tie, black dress socks and black dress shoes. The tie is a touch long (just below the belt buckle) and it’s also a bit loosened at the top, along with his top button. He is relatively tan, perhaps southern European in ethnicity, but definitely a white guy. His brown hair is cut very short and professional looking. It’s summer and there’s still a touch of sun so you get a look at what appear to be wide blue eyes. He’s tall at 6’2 and slim at around 165 pounds.
The automatic doors open and that turns his eyes away from you as he heads inside. You’re not far behind. As you both walk along the hallway you see to your right a large group of what look like high school or college kids, a few adults leading them, marching in from the side entrance and looking like they are heading to the front desk. You immediately speed up and go into a sprint to beat them to the front desk, and he makes the exact same move though half a second after you. That brings you about parallel with each other and he looks over – a nod of acknowledgment and competence. Once he gets going he moves a bit faster than you, but neither of them is fast enough. The group fans out across the many kiosks across the long front desk counter. Technically they’re all to the right of us as we get up there, but we’d basically be cutting if we didn’t go in back. He stops, then turns to you as you slow down as well. “Shit…” He says shaking his head but with a giant grin on his face.
Pointillist Capital Networks was a promising hedge fund of 400 employees, about half of them traders of one type or another. They also had in-house IT, a few lawyers, some marketers, some traveling salesmen, and a few other small departments with different functions relating to buying and selling companies.
The CEO, Derrick Lassiter, is very athletic and likes to skydive, take exotic trips, and otherwise take risks with his very financially valuable life. He works hard and plays hard.
Every summer Pointillist hires a handful of interns. Lassiter always picks a few of them himself. He has picked just enough unattractive women and men of varying sorts to hide the fact that, most years, he selects at least one primarily on looks.
She wore a very revealing outfit to the interview, and he hasn’t exactly hid that he enjoys flirting with her. That’s not to say she’s just eye candy. She gets real assignments, just like the other interns, and so far has been doing excellent work as far as Lassiter was concerned. The eye candy part was just a welcome bonus from what he’d refer to as the monotony of his life, though in truth his life was far more exciting than the vast majority of hedge fund managers.
While he has been exceptionally flirtatious, he has also kept it professional, never quite crossing that line. It appears he just (a) likes eye candy and (b) likes genuinely talented interns. She fits both in spades.
The intern has just prepared a detailed report for him on a company he is thinking of acquiring. She goes to his office to deliver it but instead see a mid-20's young man who looks much like his father sitting in the big office chair at the desk and looking up as she walks in.
Almost everyone in the office would know who this person is: the CEO's son, an entrepreneur in his own right, known to be funny, charming, quick, and very smart (from Princeton or Harvard or something - the rumors differ). He's also known to be a bit of a loose cannon, sometimes coming in to fire whole groups of people, other times to award promotions, other times to just assist on particular projects. Everyone says he was very helpful on them, but demanding of the employees he worked with, much more so than dad, who is demanding but in an old school way. Dad expects employees to do what they're told and be competent at their job. Son expects employees to anticipate his thinking, come up with good strategies on their own, and the like; when they do, he rewards them greatly, but when they don't, he has little to no mercy. Some people think him bratty for this, a prep school wannabe type who is not nearly as respectable as his father. Only the dumber half of the employees view him that way, however. The stars of the company really like working with him and realize he has real talent, he’s not just a legacy (though they very much liked and like working with his father too).
Richard Lassiter is his name. He’s sitting at an impressive, oldish looking oak desk that extends several feet on either side of him in the middle of the room, relatively. Behind him sits another desk against the wall with a hutch that has a computer monitor in the middle. Normally just one monitor sits there, but at the moment there are four monitors stretched out across the entirety of the back desk. The brown leather chair he sits in is very padded with a high back. The office windows are glass but paned so they are not see-thru. His office is in the corner of the building and so while one outward looking window is blocked by the computer desk, the other corner window is open and that area of the office has a set of two small couches, a leather chair, and a mini-fridge, though surrounding all of those things are several stacks of papers and books haphazardly strewn about.
He is wearing an expensive-looking gray suit with faint purple pinstripes. His mostly purple but also slightly gray tie accents both. His dress shoes are black and freshly polished. The cuffs are French with what look like fairly simple silver cufflinks, nothing gaudy. He was writing on a paper on the desk when she came in, seated at the main desk looking toward the door. He glanced up when she arrived.
“PLEASE tell me you’re Oklahoma.” Looking up at her, rather blatantly checking her out, though his mind is only 10% on “how hot is this intern” and 90% on Oklahoma.
The CEO, Derrick Lassiter, is very athletic and likes to skydive, take exotic trips, and otherwise take risks with his very financially valuable life. He works hard and plays hard.
Every summer Pointillist hires a handful of interns. Lassiter always picks a few of them himself. He has picked just enough unattractive women and men of varying sorts to hide the fact that, most years, he selects at least one primarily on looks.
She wore a very revealing outfit to the interview, and he hasn’t exactly hid that he enjoys flirting with her. That’s not to say she’s just eye candy. She gets real assignments, just like the other interns, and so far has been doing excellent work as far as Lassiter was concerned. The eye candy part was just a welcome bonus from what he’d refer to as the monotony of his life, though in truth his life was far more exciting than the vast majority of hedge fund managers.
While he has been exceptionally flirtatious, he has also kept it professional, never quite crossing that line. It appears he just (a) likes eye candy and (b) likes genuinely talented interns. She fits both in spades.
The intern has just prepared a detailed report for him on a company he is thinking of acquiring. She goes to his office to deliver it but instead see a mid-20's young man who looks much like his father sitting in the big office chair at the desk and looking up as she walks in.
Almost everyone in the office would know who this person is: the CEO's son, an entrepreneur in his own right, known to be funny, charming, quick, and very smart (from Princeton or Harvard or something - the rumors differ). He's also known to be a bit of a loose cannon, sometimes coming in to fire whole groups of people, other times to award promotions, other times to just assist on particular projects. Everyone says he was very helpful on them, but demanding of the employees he worked with, much more so than dad, who is demanding but in an old school way. Dad expects employees to do what they're told and be competent at their job. Son expects employees to anticipate his thinking, come up with good strategies on their own, and the like; when they do, he rewards them greatly, but when they don't, he has little to no mercy. Some people think him bratty for this, a prep school wannabe type who is not nearly as respectable as his father. Only the dumber half of the employees view him that way, however. The stars of the company really like working with him and realize he has real talent, he’s not just a legacy (though they very much liked and like working with his father too).
Richard Lassiter is his name. He’s sitting at an impressive, oldish looking oak desk that extends several feet on either side of him in the middle of the room, relatively. Behind him sits another desk against the wall with a hutch that has a computer monitor in the middle. Normally just one monitor sits there, but at the moment there are four monitors stretched out across the entirety of the back desk. The brown leather chair he sits in is very padded with a high back. The office windows are glass but paned so they are not see-thru. His office is in the corner of the building and so while one outward looking window is blocked by the computer desk, the other corner window is open and that area of the office has a set of two small couches, a leather chair, and a mini-fridge, though surrounding all of those things are several stacks of papers and books haphazardly strewn about.
He is wearing an expensive-looking gray suit with faint purple pinstripes. His mostly purple but also slightly gray tie accents both. His dress shoes are black and freshly polished. The cuffs are French with what look like fairly simple silver cufflinks, nothing gaudy. He was writing on a paper on the desk when she came in, seated at the main desk looking toward the door. He glanced up when she arrived.
“PLEASE tell me you’re Oklahoma.” Looking up at her, rather blatantly checking her out, though his mind is only 10% on “how hot is this intern” and 90% on Oklahoma.
The son of two workaholic lawyer parents, Professor Eric Wilson, an only child, grew up largely on his own. Blessed with boyish good looks and natural athleticness, he excelled with women and on the gridiron. He was never quite good enough to play Division 1 ball, so he ended up at a small catholic school with a good football reputation and even better academic credentials. There, he fell in love with philosophy and gradually became more and more socially isolated from his peers. He even briefly considered the priesthood, but he didn’t quite believe, and the idea of a life without sex scared him. Not that he was a party guy, but he did hook up on campus from time to time.
But the more devoted to study he became, the less time he had to pursue any social interests. He excelled in the study of philosophy, eventually taking his doctorate and becoming a professor at a different but similar small catholic college.
There are about 4,000 students. It’s something of a community college with the student body consisting of a mix of low-IQ community college types, very high IQ minority students (Indians, Muslims, Mormons) from the local area whose parents would not let them leave to go to a big school, and then general working class white kids who may have been fairly smart but could get a full ride here, and could not afford the better schools they got into without scholarships.
He always seems to have a handful of hot girls in his classes, and he certainly enjoys that. He has fantasized frequently about what it would be like with a student, and his moral scruples aren’t necessarily strong enough to stop him since, after all, he’s a philosophy professor – if it’s logical, he’d let it happen. But just as no woman he ever met generally seemed to make him really happy, even if she was a fun hookup, the same was true of his students: some hotties, but none he was ever really attracted to on anything beyond a purely physical level.
That was about how he thought of you, at first. But you were also a critical thinker, raising important and thoughtful questions in class, answering philsophy’s great paradox with wisdom and insight. He’d spend time in his office with you discussing your papers and truly enjoyed it, partly because you are hot and flirted with him, but he enjoyed it on an academic level as well.
One time you asked him for help on a paper not for his class. He agreed to assist. You sat together at a table in the library, at one point your legs mashing into his. He didn’t move them, and neither did you. He almost took it farther that night, perhaps asking you out for a date or a drink, but when the paper was looking good, you touched his thigh, very high up, said thank you, and left to be on your way.
The semester after that you didn’t have any classes with him, but one time you were walking to your car at the same time he was. He stopped and smiled at you, and the cars were parked next to each other. He asked where you were headed. You said to work. You pulled a little school girl outfit out of your trunk, and asked if he wanted you to try it on, then held it up to your body. He didn’t ask where you worked – he assumed it was a dance club or Tilted Kilt or something like that. He looked up and down – like he was imagining you in it – but just blew it off with a chuckle. “You should take Medieval Philosophy next semester.” He said. You said you’d think about it.
That was your last semester in college, with making so much money at the strip club, it just didn’t make sense anymore, especially a philosophy degree, no matter how much you liked it.
The club is relatively upscale. The main stage has two poles where two girls dance. There is also a VIP area a few steps up and off to the side, but visible to the rest of the main area, which also has a mini-stage and one pole. Lapdances take place in private rooms in the back with one big open room with small couches for topless dances with light contact for $20 a song, smaller private individual rooms with curtains for nude dances with full contact (ass, tits, no pussy) for $35 a song, and what they call the Executive Lounge which is expensive ($350 for 30 minutes) so hardly anyone goes in there, but it is rumored that full-on sex is possible with some of the girls. Extras in the curtain rooms are relatively rare but depending on the girl, the guy, and how much alcohol is flowing, it sometimes happens. There are bouncers but they never check in on or bother the girls in the rooms.
He has been to this club a handful of times, but by coincidence, you didn’t happen to be working the nights he came in. The girls are always cute, the prices aren’t too bad, the drinks are good, and nobody pressures him for a dance if he doesn’t want one. His parents died some years ago, so he has more money than he knows what to do with. Paying is never an issue. So his “usual” is a handful of songs in the nude full contact room. Once in awhile the girls let him finger them a little or stroke it a bit while they grind on him, but usually it’s just some grind and grab. Most times, the five dances or so get him off in his pants.
Tonight he’s here with a few of his friends, one of whom is getting married. They were each wealthy enough to spring for the little bit extra to sit in the VIP area all night. They are in a booth there sitting, drinking, talking, and of course watching all the girls, especially the one coming out onto the VIP stage. He’s wearing exactly what you’re used to seeing him in – while most professors dressed down, he almost always wore a shirt and tie, sleeves rolled up, to class (no jacket). Tonight it’s a white shirt, red tie, and black dress pants.
But the more devoted to study he became, the less time he had to pursue any social interests. He excelled in the study of philosophy, eventually taking his doctorate and becoming a professor at a different but similar small catholic college.
There are about 4,000 students. It’s something of a community college with the student body consisting of a mix of low-IQ community college types, very high IQ minority students (Indians, Muslims, Mormons) from the local area whose parents would not let them leave to go to a big school, and then general working class white kids who may have been fairly smart but could get a full ride here, and could not afford the better schools they got into without scholarships.
He always seems to have a handful of hot girls in his classes, and he certainly enjoys that. He has fantasized frequently about what it would be like with a student, and his moral scruples aren’t necessarily strong enough to stop him since, after all, he’s a philosophy professor – if it’s logical, he’d let it happen. But just as no woman he ever met generally seemed to make him really happy, even if she was a fun hookup, the same was true of his students: some hotties, but none he was ever really attracted to on anything beyond a purely physical level.
That was about how he thought of you, at first. But you were also a critical thinker, raising important and thoughtful questions in class, answering philsophy’s great paradox with wisdom and insight. He’d spend time in his office with you discussing your papers and truly enjoyed it, partly because you are hot and flirted with him, but he enjoyed it on an academic level as well.
One time you asked him for help on a paper not for his class. He agreed to assist. You sat together at a table in the library, at one point your legs mashing into his. He didn’t move them, and neither did you. He almost took it farther that night, perhaps asking you out for a date or a drink, but when the paper was looking good, you touched his thigh, very high up, said thank you, and left to be on your way.
The semester after that you didn’t have any classes with him, but one time you were walking to your car at the same time he was. He stopped and smiled at you, and the cars were parked next to each other. He asked where you were headed. You said to work. You pulled a little school girl outfit out of your trunk, and asked if he wanted you to try it on, then held it up to your body. He didn’t ask where you worked – he assumed it was a dance club or Tilted Kilt or something like that. He looked up and down – like he was imagining you in it – but just blew it off with a chuckle. “You should take Medieval Philosophy next semester.” He said. You said you’d think about it.
That was your last semester in college, with making so much money at the strip club, it just didn’t make sense anymore, especially a philosophy degree, no matter how much you liked it.
The club is relatively upscale. The main stage has two poles where two girls dance. There is also a VIP area a few steps up and off to the side, but visible to the rest of the main area, which also has a mini-stage and one pole. Lapdances take place in private rooms in the back with one big open room with small couches for topless dances with light contact for $20 a song, smaller private individual rooms with curtains for nude dances with full contact (ass, tits, no pussy) for $35 a song, and what they call the Executive Lounge which is expensive ($350 for 30 minutes) so hardly anyone goes in there, but it is rumored that full-on sex is possible with some of the girls. Extras in the curtain rooms are relatively rare but depending on the girl, the guy, and how much alcohol is flowing, it sometimes happens. There are bouncers but they never check in on or bother the girls in the rooms.
He has been to this club a handful of times, but by coincidence, you didn’t happen to be working the nights he came in. The girls are always cute, the prices aren’t too bad, the drinks are good, and nobody pressures him for a dance if he doesn’t want one. His parents died some years ago, so he has more money than he knows what to do with. Paying is never an issue. So his “usual” is a handful of songs in the nude full contact room. Once in awhile the girls let him finger them a little or stroke it a bit while they grind on him, but usually it’s just some grind and grab. Most times, the five dances or so get him off in his pants.
Tonight he’s here with a few of his friends, one of whom is getting married. They were each wealthy enough to spring for the little bit extra to sit in the VIP area all night. They are in a booth there sitting, drinking, talking, and of course watching all the girls, especially the one coming out onto the VIP stage. He’s wearing exactly what you’re used to seeing him in – while most professors dressed down, he almost always wore a shirt and tie, sleeves rolled up, to class (no jacket). Tonight it’s a white shirt, red tie, and black dress pants.
They were lovers for years during school, but she was a virgin, and wanted to stay that way until marriage. They broke up when they went off to college, mainly because neither one was willing to abandon their academic plans for the other. They're in their early 20's now, graduated from school, living in the same city, and he thinks of meeting up with her to catch up. He has some indication from Facebook and Instagram pictures, but doesn't actually know, you've become a complete slut while in college.
Man at a cheerleader car wash with a bumper sticker for YC's dream school (Yale Law or something). Time to network? Get a letter of recommendation? In a bikini and heels? Or something more cliche, like the rival team showing up.
Another stolen idea. For money, she uses her perfect body for whatever her client needs. Test a husband's fidelity? Create a scandal for a priest or someone else who should be celibate? Endless possibilities. Modern setting is fine, but I do have a WW2 Italy lengthy starter if that interests you, basic premise being she's playing off Nazis, the Italian Mafia, the Church, the Italian Navy, and the about-to-invade American advance spies.
Not sure if that's the correct term, but the premise is taking a bimbo and turning her into someone who is presentable in social settings.]
Another stolen idea, though I developed a lot of it so I'll take some credit. A couple wakes up in Vegas, married. They're strangers to one another and have no or minimal memory of the other. Rather than run to annul the marriage, however, there are two complications at least in his mind. The first is that she is gorgeous and marryable almost on looks alone. The second is that he's a military man and so he knows a little something about making a lifelong commitment. He's convinced that no matter how drunk or drugged or whatever he was the night before, he would never make such a commitment if he didn't in his heart and mind feel it was absolutely right. He wants to honor the commitment, and he wants to try to not lose the love he apparently found last night, whether that means rekindling it, rediscovering it, or creating it anew. He makes a bold proposal. In the old days, before no-fault divorce existed, in order to get a divorce one had to have
. What if, he proposes, we simply remain married, see if it works, and only get divorced if grounds should arise?
Adultery
Cruelty\Abuse
Abandonment\Desertion
Mental Illness
Criminal Conviction
Substance Abuse
Infertility (sometimes)
Refusing Sex
Cruelty\Abuse
Abandonment\Desertion
Mental Illness
Criminal Conviction
Substance Abuse
Infertility (sometimes)
Refusing Sex
In this plotline, we follow the employee of a teen dance nightclub. Only 15-25 are allowed in, no one older or younger. No alcohol. The club hires good looking girls (one example) and guys to serve a few purposes, the main one being to ensure there are hot people in the club every night thus attracting customers. Nominally they are also to make sure people have a good time. Guy gets dumped by his girlfriend right there on the dance floor? She'll cheer him up, help make her jealous. Loser guy keeps getting shot down? Dance with me! Of course, if she goes on other frolic and detours, like banging some hot Marine who comes in, steals a hot guy away from a hot girl just to prove she can do it, or drags one of the guys she was dancing with into the breakroom because she felt his dick was huge - ownership and the bouncers probably won't much mind, especially if she gives them some incentive not to. Basically I play a male harem for YC in this environment.
Simple Pairings (Plots TBD)
Secretary\Boss
Cheerleader\football player(s)
Schoolgirl\Any (priest, teacher, principal, coach)
Customer\Escort
Customer\Stripper
Doorman\Stripper
Club owner\Stripper
Conquering General\Slave (either by taking or arranged marriage - could get romantic)
Fandoms: My interest in fandoms is very limited as I don't know too many that I find lead to good sexy time situations. Some I could consider, however, are:
Empire Records (duh it's in the title)
Firefly
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (but I will not play against Dawn; she is stupid)
Marvel Cinematic Universe (plus Agents)
Red Alert
Chrono Trigger\Cross
Harvest Moon
Days of Our Lives
90210 (either iteration)
Varsity Blues
Star Trek (but only in eras, real or imagined, where the skirt uniforms are in)
Star Wars (but I have some strange views about it so merits discussion first)
James Bond
Game of Thrones
Battlestar Galactica (the reboot)
Back to the Future
Terminator (John and his Terminator chick from Sarah Connor Chronicles is particularly appealing)
Edge of Tomorrow
Blue Mountain State
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