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kinky literate kitten on the prowl // mxf

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acidust

Meteorite
Joined
Oct 9, 2016
Location
off the grid
/shrieks loudly
mm very good, now that I have your attention, let's get to it, shall we?

first off I live and work on a farm, and my time is limited - if you're not willing to be a patient kitten, don't bother.

requirements + such
one // I love writing as much as I love good smut, and I am accepting only literate to advanced partners - if you're looking to throw a few kinky one liners at each other, turn back now.
two // long term is preferred. not a one night stand kind of gal.
three // email only. this is mostly due to OCD.
NOTE :: if I really, really like you, and you have some sort of genius idea that appeals to my very soul, I will consider a thread play. but you have to practically get me out of my panties first.
four // this is really only a suggestion, but DUN BE A GRUMPY GRUMP. it will scare me away. I am an extremely happy, excitable person; love to chit chat, make bad jokes and have fun. my depravity does not mean I am a serious, angst filled fucker~ <3
five // 18+ PARTNERS ONLY. preferably do not be under twenty-one, unless you are an incredibly old soul and can prove that to me.

kinks + anti-kinks
yes - keep in mind I play submissive // BDSM - sir, master or daddy; non-con; bondage + rigging, kidnapping; extreme degradation + humiliation; impact play; multiple partners; sadism/masochism; cages; all the yummy edgeplay - breath, blood, fire, gun, etc; suspension; complete power exchange; sensory deprivation; fear.

maybe // snuff, light waterworks

no // scat, vore, actual incest, underage characters, descriptive drug scenes, forced prostitution unless discussed beforehand

genres + what not
this is a regurgitation of random ideas, pairings and settings - feel free to suggest quite literally anything. also I don't usually have set plots, I prefer to discuss and create them with you; plus I'm a horrible plotter, so there's that, buuuut... anyway.

fuckin' disney //
beauty and the beast :: I have an introduction for this, it's a steampunk setting where YC is a crime boss/warlord/something and MC's father owes him a tremendous debt - YC agrees to settle the debt in exchange for MC //
alice in wonderland :: king of hearts x alice BDSM style
aladdin
pocahontas
peter pan :: captain hook x tink

science fiction
medieval or modern fantasy
dystopia :: margaret atwood, anyone?
apocalypse :: zombies, fallout, etc.
steampunk :: wild west or victorian
asylum :: any time period
kidnapping :: any time period

parings may be used in most any genre
dom x sub
master x slave
daddy x little girl/brat
psych doctor x patient
cop x felon
bounty hunter x hunted
teacher x student
demon x sacrifice
conman x conned/partner
vampire x werewolf
human x fairy

fandoms // bring me your plots
fight club
star wars
lord of the rings
elder scrolls
sucker punch
oryx and crake
handmaid's tale
the bone season
marvel universe
DC universe :: usually within the batman realm, but am willing to branch out
M*A*S*H :: don't even think about judging me on this

writing samples
here's a couple introductions I've written in the past - keep in my mind, not all of my writing is this elaborate unless I am inspired by our choice of plot. also also wic, if either of these appeal to you, let me know and we can use it~ <3

this is a starter for a darker slice of life, where Sara meets an experienced Dom and is introduced by him to the BDSM lifestyle. would eventually lead to a total power exchange type deal //
blonde_F_2.jpg

“Is it on?”

“Yes. It’s recording.”

“Oh.”

“Go ahead and tell me about Sara.”

“There’s a lot to tell...but there’s one memory that’s recently been stuck. Looping itself in my head.”

“Why don’t you start there, then?”

“Okay... It must have been a month after her birthday – my three sisters and brother had gone up to my grandparent’s ranch to celebrate, but I stayed home. My mother was...unwell. I was worried. Since I missed out, I got to stay with Sara one weekend while grandma and grandpa went to the city. They picked me up in the afternoon, after school, and we ran a few errands before going to the county fair and rodeo.

As a general rule, Sara’s attire was work shoes, shorts and tore up shirt, but that day she wore a light blue dress, pink lipstick and her old cowboy boots. Her hair, usually tangled, thrown into a ragged knot on top her head, was combed and fell in soft waves around her shoulders.

At the rodeo, she radiated joy. It was contagious. She bought me a ring and fried Oreos, and when I admitted I didn’t like them after my first bite, we got ice cream and let my grandparents eat the Oreos. She and I left to explore to the fair while the rodeo went on, and she stopped at every ride to ask if I wanted to go on. I noticed the disappointment in her eyes every time I said no, but I was nine, and terrified. Sara, on the other hand, was fearless. She said the more likely the ride was to fall apart, the more fun it was, and she said this with a delighted twinkle in her blue eyes.

I threw darts at balloons and won a small cheetah stuffed animal, then she took three swings at the ‘Try Your Strength’ game, but didn’t get a prize. We made it back to the stadium right on time to see the bull riders, and when the first one went down, she nudged me and said ‘I’m gonna do that one day’. I thought she was joking. Maybe she was. I’ll never know…

The drive back was long and boring, and I fell asleep, but not before I heard her crying beside me in the back seat. It was quiet, contained, but it was full of a pain I’d never witnessed before. I wanted to ask her why she was sad. When we got to the farm it was nearly midnight, and we still had to feed the animals and milk the goats. We both got out of the truck, rubbing sleep from our eyes. She changed into sweats and a hoodie, covered her hair with a strange looking hat and I couldn’t help but giggle when she kept her lipstick on. She began to work with an efficiency of someone who had a consistent routine, and I followed her with a flashlight.

Sara was not like the other adults in my life – she always explained everything she did as if I would understand it, and when I didn’t, she would simplify her explanation, but somehow without making me feel like a child. We sat in the milking room, and she played a sad, hauntingly beautiful song on her phone and sang along with every word. She was one of those people who knew they didn’t have a good voice, but belted it out anyway. I loved her for it.

The next day, my grandparents left, and it was only us. We did the chores, then she made pancakes, stacked high with fruit, whipped cream, caramel and syrup. After scarfing them down, she cooked up a few eggs, but neither of us finished them. Right after breakfast, we watched two Disney movies in a row – I can’t remember which but I’m sure one of them was the Lion King. She always watched it with us when we visited.

In the afternoon, we pressed rocks into a plastic mold filled with cement to make stepping stones for my grandma’s garden, then took a nap – she always said sleeping was her favorite activity, but I knew it was a lie. Her favorite activity was being reckless. I’d seen the way she rode dirt bikes and horses; even the way she drove a car was a testament to her need for danger.

That night, once she thought I was asleep, I heard her crying again.

I asked why she was sad.

She said she didn’t know why.

That was when I realized there was something wrong with her. Something deep inside that was not just misshapen, but horribly broken. I’d never heard her mention her family, and it was only after she left that my grandparent’s told me she didn’t have one.

Before I knew it, I was crying with her, and she told me over and over again that it was okay to be sad, especially without a reason.

The day after was light and filled with all the fun Sara could pull out of her magic hat, and that night, my grandparents came home and drove me back to town. She wrapped me in one of her famous hugs and whispered that she loved me into my hair. I couldn’t stop weeping that night, and when my siblings asked why, I told them I didn’t know.

That was the second to last time I ever saw her. After two years with my family, she left. Without a word to anyone, except me. She left me a letter.”


Sara stood stark naked at the edge of the cliff, toes dangling over the edge, and for one dark moment, she wished it were rock she were jumping toward, not water. Taking a deep breath and reveling in the feeling of heart beating in her chest, she finally pushed away, feet pointed perfectly straight. The lake absorbed her, and she sank steadily, until nearly out of oxygen, before swimming back to the surface. Taking a huge, needy gulp of air, she headed towards the cliff and began to free climb up the rock face.

When she poked her head over the ledge, a young man held her clothes, looking at them with a desperate expression.

“I believe those are mine,” she said, pulling herself over and arching a brow when he let out a loud cry of shock.

“I- oh- I am so- did you climb up that?” his eyes widened, but he still clutched at her shirt and jeans.

“Yes,” Sara responded patiently, walking to him then easing the clothes out of his grasp.

“H-how?”

“It’s practically made for climbing. Easy foot holes,” she said by means of explanation, then began to pull her jeans on over her damp body. The cloth soaked up the water quickly, and the man suddenly flushed and turned his back to her, “You’ve already seen me naked. Why you turning around now?” When he didn’t answer, she shrugged and tugged on her shirt, “You gonna jump?”

“Oh no,” he laughed, glancing behind him before turning to ensure she was decent, “I come here to pray.”

“Don’t trust your god to deliver you safely to the bottom?”

“Why-I mean-I do. But that’s not the point-”

Sara rolled her eyes, said her goodbyes and left the befuddled man to himself.

-

The scowls on the faces around her made no difference to her as she walked out of the stadium, holding her winning vest with pride. A hat sat atop her blonde hair, pulled into a neat braid, and worn jeans hugged her athletic body. A man stopped her to shake her hand and smile congenially.

“Not racing tonight?”

Sara returned his grin with a shaking of her head, “Good god no, Carter, I already stole the glory from all the men – hate to do it to the ladies, too,” she winked, “They’re worse losers than those boys.”

“Well, can ya blame ‘em? It’s not every day a woman rolls through and takes the crown for bull ridin’. I still can’t believe they let you.”

“You know me. I wouldn’t let them say no. But no one needs to worry, I won’t be in the game much longer.”

“Wha-why the hell not?”

“Mostly, its lost it’s thrill – but then there’s the matter of everyone hating me for it.”

He let out a bitter laugh and patted her arm gently, “They don’t hate you for winning, they hate you cause you’re mean.”

Sara couldn’t help but chuckle, “Maybe you’re right. James Carter, sometimes I think you’re the only one who cares about me.”

“Oh, I am Sara. Now get yourself married before you get run over by one of those trains you’re always jumping.”

As she walking away, she called over her shoulder, “You know I only got eyes for you, old man!”

She made her way back to her old, 1960’s trailer, and opened up the front where there was a bed, closet, and a few drawers. She set her vest down on her covers, fed the dappled gray stallion in the back and made her way to the fair portion of the grounds. Rolling a cigarette on the way, she let the bright glow of lights wash over her. A part of her wished for nostalgia whenever she roamed around the fairs after rodeo, but another part wished she could scale the Ferris wheel and jump off.

With an old Bic lighter, she lit her cigarette, standing in the middle of the chaos. She had long learned that she couldn’t feel anything but adrenaline and pain, but there was something about the rides, sounds, smells and commotion that gave her pleasure. She heard a train running slowly on the tracks nearby, and she briefly wondered if she should hop on and never come back, as she’d done many times before. These days, though, she had Atlas to think about, and that horse had saved her life. She didn’t have time to let him free and still make the train, so she pushed the sudden urge out of her thoughts.

“Hey, bitch-” came a voice behind her. Immediately, her eyes rolled back in her head as she took another long pull from the cigarette, “-can you ride a dick as well as you ride a bull?” there was a smattering of laughter from the group around, but Sara didn’t turn around. A hand was on her shoulder, though, and yanked her to face him. Well, good, she thought, a fight always cheers me right up.

“Oh well shoot Coy, I didn’t know it was you! Otherwise I would’ve started this conversation out right,” with a dark smirk, she landed a quick uppercut, then – carefully, cigarette still in hand – while he was stunned, knocked him to the ground. His friends made no move to help him. A man’s pride was a beautiful thing. She pressed the heel of her boot against his throat, “Now… what was it you were saying?”

“I said I’m gonna make you ride my-”

She gently eased her spur into his neck, letting the sharp metal press against his throat. A thin trail of blood ran down his neck. He choked, and she knitted her eyebrows together, “I’m sorry – what? Speak up now, I can’t hear you.”

Before he could manage an answer, there was someone yelling at her. With a curse, she released Coy, and he stumbled to his feet, “She started all this, Carter! And you know it!”

“Shut up, Coy. Now run off before I let her shoot you in the balls.”

Sara stomped out the butt of her smoke and began rolling another, a scowl ingrained on her soft lips.

“C’mon now, you know better to fight in the middle of the grounds.”

“Yeah, I know,” she snapped and before he turned to leave her, she added a weak “Sorry.”

When she was alone again, she let the lit cigarette hang at her side as she gazed absentmindedly at the crowd. All these people, all of these lives – she usually liked to imagine how they lived, what they had for dinner, where they were going afterwards, but tonight, her mind was too restless for people watching.

Her eyes drifted closed, her thoughts wandered, and she could have sworn her heart stopped beating.


this is your regular slave x master set-up, though in the extreme science fiction realm //
wicke_F_wings.jpg

Cygnus-9. The planet ruled by shapeshifters of all kinds. From beasts to birds, from land to water; they all thrived on Nine’s beautiful surface. At least, now they thrived. Since the beginning of the galaxy’s existence, the planet had been raided and pillaged. The shifters were highly sought after as slaves. Chips were inserted into the skin, allowing a sole owner to control their changes with the press of a button. The wings of birds were sawed off, claws of beasts ripped from their skin, gills of water changers sewn shut. Brutality ran rampant, and the planet remained divided by clan, to the Capitol’s advantage.

Everything changed four decades back, when the dragons had seen enough. They came out from hiding and took over the long abandoned castles. There were four, distanced equally in the all directions, though the northern lands would always hold the king or queen. The raids became few and far between, and the clans lived in relative peace, until little Nyx came into power. From then on, no raider dared to set foot on Nine. Not even the most foolhardy pirate came near.

Queen Nyx had hundreds of war ships built, ensured her dragons were reproducing and raised up numerous armies that no one could stand against. The skin changers were not simply living on the same planet, they were finally coming together for a single cause. She prohibited anyone leaving the planet, to keep her secrets from being spilled, and no one resisted. It had been seven years, and she was only now twenty-three, but had made a ferocious name for herself.

Currently, she floated on her back in the heated tub, which was more of a pool, her massive black dragon wings outstretched in the water. A quiet tune drifted from her lips, and she smiled before setting her feet on the ground.

“Astrid,” she called out playfully, swimming towards a girl who sat by the edge of the pool, having her impeccably white wings cleaned.

“Yes, Your Grace?” the young woman answered; her voice was always soft, reserved and nearly musical.

Nyx waved the servants away before taking a place on the granite step underneath the water. She pulled Astrid into her lap, nuzzling her face against her bright red hair.

“Your Grace...” Astrid scolded halfheartedly as the queen’s hands roamed over her smooth, pale skin. Her wings twitched, and Nyx laughed delightedly, pulling a long white feather from her mouth. She tucked it behind her ear and resumed her exploration, finally resting her fingers on Astrid’s stomach, leaning her head against her back, between her wings. Feeling Astrid take a deep breath, she frowned and turned the girl around, guiding her long legs so they wrapped around her trim waist.

“What is it, my little bird?”

“It is too good,” she sighed, putting her arms around her queen’s neck and laying on her chest, “Nothing good lasts forever.”

“It will if I say so,” Nyx replied firmly, “It is unlike you to be pessimistic, Astrid.”

“I’ve heard rumors,” the girl began hesitantly.

“What kind of rumors?” She grasped Astrid’s chin gently and turned her face towards her own, but Astrid shook her head, pushed away and climbed out of the pool, “Astrid! I asked you a question.”

There was no response, only the sound of footsteps leaving the bathhouse. Nyx also left the pool, not bothering with a towel. She shook out her leathery wings and folded them over her back, walking naked through the courtyard and into the castle. Once dressed in her usual simple clothing, she braided her impossibly long hair and sought out her troubled bird. Nyx found her in the gardens, clad in a willowy white dress, with her knees to her chest.

“My love-”

But there was no time to plead with her before her guards came rushing in, with panic in their eyes, “Your Grace! We have to evacuate-”

Before they finished, Nyx had shifted. As a lumbering black dragon, she took to the skies without a thought. A much smaller great blue heron followed her.

Go back, Astrid, she commanded, but felt no response. Over time, the younger girl had become increasingly brave, not like the small heron she had found, abandoned and disheveled outside the castle gates six years ago. She had been fourteen, and Nyx became instantly protective, training her to fight, but also to lead. The herons were a dying breed; no one knew where they were or if they were even still alive. It never seemed to affect Astrid, who took to the dragons as if they were family. On her eighteenth birthday, with the feathers and the flowers wrapped in her splendid hair, Nyx saw her in a different light, and never let her go after that.

Fire, Nyx heard inside her head. She smelled it, too. The entire southern forest was in flames. She swooped down quickly, but came back up before Astrid could follow. Capitol raiders. They had slipped past her defenses, and she’d had no idea. Quickly, the two retreated back to the castle, shifting back into human form the moment their feet touch the ground.

“Rumors! Astrid! What do you know?” Nyx cried out in anger, closing the distance between as Astrid took several frightened steps back.

“I heard your admirals were selling information to the traders who came in orbit.”

“They what?”

“I’m sorry, Nyx! I didn’t know until today – I would have told you earlier but I didn’t think it would happen so soon-”

Her anger dissipated, and she wrapped her arms around the girl, enclosing them inside of her wings. Though she would fight until the bitter end, but she already knew the cause was lost. She could hear the hundreds of thousands of troops, smell the terror and see their loss. The Capitol had been thwarted for too long, and they were hell bent.

---

Astrid opened her eyes slowly. With blurred vision, she could scarcely make out her bloodied and bruised queen huddled in the corner, bound, gagged and unconscious. She made a move to go to her, but found her ankles and wrists also tied. She saw Nyx stir, then wake in a panic. The ropes did nothing to contain her, and she rose with a fury, letting loose a battle cry before beginning to shift.

Claws came out and scales glistened on her skin, but before the transition was complete, a heavy chain net was thrown over her. She collapsed to the ground and made no attempt to get back up. Blood dripped from her forehead.

“Damn it! I told you we shoulda put the chip in while she was asleep,” an angry man yanked the net away and pulled the disoriented queen to her feet, setting her forcefully in a chair. He grasped her arm and laid it straight, using a needle to inject a dark liquid into her veins, then pressed a small device against her skin. A small prick of pain later, and she could see a small object underneath her flesh. Nyx watched him curiously, a strong sedative taking hold of her, “Don’t bother clawin’ it out,” the man said, “Won’t do you a bit of good.”

Another man entered, along with two women, who looked happily between Astrid and Nyx. They were inserting the chip into Astrid’s arm when one burst into laughter, “The god damn queen. Why, I don’t think we could have done better if we tried.”

The other woman was less thrilled, analyzing Astrid critically, “But who is this? Hm? Should we take her wings?”

“No!” Nyx cried, lurching forward only to be pushed back down.

“She fights against the serum quite well, doesn’t she?” the first said, then returned to the matter at hand, “But no, her wings stay. Can’t you see what she is?” Astrid’s eyes were fluttering closed, succumbing to the injection, while the woman stroked her cheek delicately, “A heron. She’s nearly as valuable as the queen.”

Nyx’s eyes moved to the window. They were still in her castle. She saw lines of her people – her loving people, who trusted her every step of the way – being led by slave drivers. Half of the bird’s wings were only bloody stumps. She choked back a sob, “Why…? Their wings could have been bound-”

One of the men chuckled heartlessly, “It demoralizes them. I say we do the same with you, but they won’t let me. Your little girl, though, heron wings are much more beautiful mounted on the wall-”

Anger flared in her eyes, and despite the sedative, she flew at the man. Within seconds, her hands were around his neck, and in one swift movement, she snapped it.

~

Sunlight burned into her eyes.

She raised a hand against the rays and found herself staring at the Capitol in the distance. It’s skyline rose towards the clouds. Blinking back confusion, she let her gaze roam. She was confined, that much was obvious, and on Cygnus-1, but… her eyes caught glimpse of Astrid, asleep in a hanging cage. A slew of curses flew from her mouth, and she willed herself to shift, but a burning sensation in her forearm was all the reminder she needed.

“We keep their wings unbound while penned, to allow buyers to see their span before purchase. We can take saw off, if it’s their desire, but only after they’ve paid – and it’s extra,” a voice was saying. She searched for the source. A grotesque man led a group of eager young men and women around the multitude of cages, all filled with her people, then stopped before her, “Can anyone tell me who this is?”

A girl raised her hand. She was dressed in the elaborate garb of the Capitol, and her eyes were dull, desensitized to this kind of savagery. Taking a step closer to Nyx, a smirk appeared on her lips, “This is the dragon Nyx, former queen of Cygnus-9.”

Nyx gripped the bars, leaning against them, returning the smirk with a wicked grin, “It was unwise of your people to bring us this close to your home. Soon, I’ll be queen of the Capitol, as well, and your sweet little tongue will be between my legs every night.”

A whip flew through the bars of her cage, wrapping around her arm. A suited woman approached, “She’ll need to be broken,” she was saying to the group, who were suddenly taking notes in their small books, “We’ve requested trainers come by to look at her – we will pay them graciously. It would be a risk for them, seeing as she’s snapped multiple necks thus far, even with the sedative,” she shook her head peevishly, and the young girl quickly backed away, “Buyers don’t want a wild animal, but if they do, we will cut the price down by half of what a trainer would charge. We will still make a fortune – off each and every shifter here. It has been over forty years since we’ve had a fair this big. Supply and demand, children, and we are currently in supply.”

The group scribbled away. Nyx snarled at them, unfurling her wings and stretching them majestically before beginning to pace the cell. There is always a way out, she told herself firmly, for Astrid, there must be a way out.

“If you’ll note the heron behind us-” she said, “-she was with the dragon when she was captured. A valuable companion. It was advised to us to sell them together, to keep the queen in line, though that rarely happens. Remember, buyers want what they want, it is our job to tell them the facts – not how to use their purchases.”

okay I think that does it~ will be updating as I remember things.
shoot me a message with your email address so we can discuss <3​
 
'when god made raccoons he was like do you want to be an old timey burglar or a trash digger. too slow. you're both now.'
 
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