Temptress RN
Serf
- Local time
- Today 4:43 PM
- Messages
- 2
- Age
- 31
- Pronouns
- she/her
How Might I Tempt You?
Hello there and welcome to my tempting trousseau! This is the thread where I seek partners to RP with one of my female characters, and if you are interested after reading what I have to offer, I hope you will shoot me a PM to express interest and introduce yourself to me just as I am introducing myself to you here. Please do not post in this thread. I hope to keep this thread clean so that I might update it as my needs and desires change, grow and flourish.
First and foremost, you probably want to know a little about me. I’m a registered nurse. I am a woman. I am married. I have been an aspiring novelist since 2nd grade in elementary school, but have yet to accomplish that goal. I don’t know how much I’m actively trying, though, considering that I’m also working full time. My husband is an engineer. He is aware of my writing proclivities and sometimes he is my first reader. If you find that weird, don’t write with me. I love writing, but I also devote a lot of my time to reading and have another hobby in tabletop roleplaying games. I also have a rather large collection of board games and play them with my husband quite often. You should also know that my mental health has not been the most stable throughout history and that causes fluctuations in my writing capabilities when I have flare ups or when I’m going through medication adjustments. It’s primarily ADHD, but I’ve also had a lot of depressive episodes related to grief and other life things.
My Writing Style
Now for who I am as a writer. I write both male and female characters with equal enthusiasm. My males are historically more sought after than my females. I make each character that I play custom to the plot and the roleplay so I don’t have a collection for you to choose from ahead of time. I also don’t make character sheets, but if you’re someone who likes faceclaims, I can accommodate that type of need/request. I’m a very flowy writer. I like writing magic - but not clearly defined magic. I like the little touch of magic that can make our characters’ moment of intimacy that much more beautiful without causing an explosion. I like magic that weaves fates together when no one is looking, magic that ties knots and then runs away, magic that allows a character to caress while their hand is somewhere else entirely (that sounds like tentacles, but I promise it’s not). I like characters who are fated to be together. I like fast romance and fast intimacy. Then, once our characters are truly in love, I like crafting a world that’s determined to keep them apart by any means necessary. Sometimes that is violence. Sometimes it’s drama. Sometimes it’s magic.
I do not like several things (nor will I willingly write them):
Adoptable Starter Posts
Waltzing to Whisk You Away: This is an introductory post I wrote for a roleplay on a now dead site. I saved the text and have it below. I would be playing Calliope, a rather powerful vampire who’s basically starting a war out of boredom, and the human she selects out of the most recent flock up for grabs was meant to belong to someone else. Now they’re the rope in a game of tug of war, and Calliope is determined to win it all. This is a female x female story. I will not change it.
Something Darker…: This is a primarily erotic based story following Opal McAlpine. After her mother passed, her stepfather - a mobster - sold her on an underground slave market because he didn’t want to deal with remnants of his dead wife. He wants to make sure she can never find her way back to his life and selling her on the underground seems as fair an option as any other. Opal is only 18 in this story and I imagine her purchaser to be older. This story could be M/F or F/F.
Plots:
Princess and her Knight in Armor: Character A has been protected since early in her youth by a knight (Character B) assigned to act as her champion and defend her honor against anything that might bring shame or doubt upon her status. They’ve gotten along well for so long. They laugh together, they cry together. She is always smiling when they have something to say about it. However, her nervousness at a betrothal to a prince faraway creates new turmoil. Is this prince truly worthy of her innocence? Can Character B really protect her when someone else will become so important in her life? And what of Character B’s feelings on the matter… the princess has been theirs for so long and somewhere along the way, they fell in love. Will the princess reciprocate?
Slave, Then Lover, Then Savior: A small city of humanity discovered a tribe of shifters. Such a unique discovery, of course, couldn't be left alone. Humans had to meddle. They captured them, caged them like animals, experimented on them, and then turned them into entertainment for the masses. Now it's a spectacle that draws in audiences worldwide. Character A is a fighter. They grew up in a fighting pit of shifters, trained to battle much like gladiators. Character B owns some of the fighters, sees to their needs, but has never gotten too close out of fear of their "savagery." However, when Character A gets injured just after he acquires her in a trade deal, he finds himself tending to her injuries and the chemistry is undeniable. How much hope is there in a relationship akin to slavery, though? And running simply isn't an option. Character A won't leave without freeing the rest of their people as well.
Blood that Calls: Character A is a changeling. They have been raised in a village of humans, and they absolutely believe in their humanity. They have always walked with slightly more grace, been a bit more charming and learned a little bit faster. It’s nothing that’s caught attention, though. At least, it hasn’t in town. However, outside of town, the very scent and sound of her blood has drawn them. Character B is an ancient vampire who’s been looking for anything remotely interesting to pass time given they’ve seen so much in their centuries long lifetime. Character A’s blood might just be the spark they need. It sounds musical, smells like chocolate and wine, and sings to their senses more than any human they’ve ever tasted. Of course, having a vampire move in frightens the townsfolk to no end, and they come to a quick arrangement that allows Character B to have their pick of the townsfolk to sate their tastes, to save the rest. Character B makes a show of it, but knows all along who they will pick. Character A doesn’t react to their bite like a human would, though. For a human, the bite numbs and dulls. For Character A, the bite is an aphrodisiac beyond wonders. And Character A quickly becomes addicted to vampire blood. It’s quite an intoxicating combination. What happens, though, when the fae come in to reclaim their own? When they’re highly displeased to find a vampire reducing one of their kind to nothing more than an amusement, albeit one where pleasure is shared?
Preserving a Bloodline: Character A is a member of a rare bloodline, one whose blood is much more potent and satiating to a vampire than typical. And their bloodline is dying. The ruling council of vampires has a plan in place to use those who remain in the bloodline in an extensive breeding program designed to make their bloodline far more prevalent. When Character A is attacked, though, Character B is the nearest who can save her with his blood… which begins forging a bond. Character A becomes Character B’s possession effectively, and they’re not fond of sharing. What will happen when a human finds themself locked in a game of tug of war between the ruling council and a very powerful vampire outcast who doesn’t play fair?
Short Term Options:
What if you're thinking that you really want to write with me, but you'd rather stick with something simple? There's one of my favorite mottos (even though I'm terrible at following it) of "KISS". Keep. It. Simple. Silly. (Or, there's another word that can go there, but I want to be nice.) I am willing to consider and explore some options for a short term roleplay involving two characters and a world around them. It's possible that it could grow into something more, but we don't force it. We let it be what it is. For these options, I have pairings rather than plots, and if you're interested, you can give me some options for what our small conflict is between the two characters. These stories still cannot be slow-burn, but I'll do a little bit more slice of life stuff at times in these situations.
Pairings (this list will grow I'm sure):
Closing Remarks:
If you made it through that, thanks for reading! If you're interested, PM me and let me know what you'd like to write! I do write males as well (as previously stated), and if you're interested in any of these plots or proposals with me playing the male lead, I can do that too! I'll be getting that thread up soon-ish (TM), but I'm open to PMs with those requests in the meantime as well.
Hello there and welcome to my tempting trousseau! This is the thread where I seek partners to RP with one of my female characters, and if you are interested after reading what I have to offer, I hope you will shoot me a PM to express interest and introduce yourself to me just as I am introducing myself to you here. Please do not post in this thread. I hope to keep this thread clean so that I might update it as my needs and desires change, grow and flourish.
First and foremost, you probably want to know a little about me. I’m a registered nurse. I am a woman. I am married. I have been an aspiring novelist since 2nd grade in elementary school, but have yet to accomplish that goal. I don’t know how much I’m actively trying, though, considering that I’m also working full time. My husband is an engineer. He is aware of my writing proclivities and sometimes he is my first reader. If you find that weird, don’t write with me. I love writing, but I also devote a lot of my time to reading and have another hobby in tabletop roleplaying games. I also have a rather large collection of board games and play them with my husband quite often. You should also know that my mental health has not been the most stable throughout history and that causes fluctuations in my writing capabilities when I have flare ups or when I’m going through medication adjustments. It’s primarily ADHD, but I’ve also had a lot of depressive episodes related to grief and other life things.
My Writing Style
Now for who I am as a writer. I write both male and female characters with equal enthusiasm. My males are historically more sought after than my females. I make each character that I play custom to the plot and the roleplay so I don’t have a collection for you to choose from ahead of time. I also don’t make character sheets, but if you’re someone who likes faceclaims, I can accommodate that type of need/request. I’m a very flowy writer. I like writing magic - but not clearly defined magic. I like the little touch of magic that can make our characters’ moment of intimacy that much more beautiful without causing an explosion. I like magic that weaves fates together when no one is looking, magic that ties knots and then runs away, magic that allows a character to caress while their hand is somewhere else entirely (that sounds like tentacles, but I promise it’s not). I like characters who are fated to be together. I like fast romance and fast intimacy. Then, once our characters are truly in love, I like crafting a world that’s determined to keep them apart by any means necessary. Sometimes that is violence. Sometimes it’s drama. Sometimes it’s magic.
I do not like several things (nor will I willingly write them):
- Slow burn romance
- Slice of life (exceptions for short-term stories)
- Rules for Magic
- Overpowered Characters
- Listing out character ability and attack names
- Heavy anal sex (unless it’s a M/M story)
Adoptable Starter Posts
Waltzing to Whisk You Away: This is an introductory post I wrote for a roleplay on a now dead site. I saved the text and have it below. I would be playing Calliope, a rather powerful vampire who’s basically starting a war out of boredom, and the human she selects out of the most recent flock up for grabs was meant to belong to someone else. Now they’re the rope in a game of tug of war, and Calliope is determined to win it all. This is a female x female story. I will not change it.
An elegant ballroom awaited. Their kind certainly had a taste for flare and pizazz, although they also knew how to limit it adequately. A vampire's life was too long, after all, to throw this little soiree more than once per decade; if they hosted too often, it would become far more boring than they could tolerate and then there would be no more joy left in the ceremonies they'd created to celebrate their human stock. The practice for over three hundred years had been written into tradition. Once per decade, on a night with no moonlight, all of the eldest among vampire kind were invited to a ball. They all dressed the part, ballgowns, suits and ties, and some even went so far as to wear a masquerade mask. They danced. They rejoiced over their absent reflections in the mirrors that decorated the halls. They all pretended to be friends for at least a brief moment in time.
The event wasn't foreign for the red haired woman who made her way out of the carriage she'd hired specifically to feel important. Really, she should've been considered important by many of their society's rules. Calliope Fairway was one of the eldest vampires on this side of the world, having participated in at least twenty of these ballroom extravaganzas in the past. She acted as queen over one of the continent's largest territories where she controlled her stock of humans and the vampires beneath her with ease and a diplomatic touch that bordered on mercurial. Blood was well regulated and she served as a resource for many of her neighbors when they faced shortages as a result of the gluttony of their kind; Calliope always made sure she got her fair share in return, too, when she saved someone from the consequences that a blood shortage would have. Her neighbors knew exactly how powerful she was, and neither of them would dare question her superiority.
The rest of the world was a different matter, though. They regarded her well. She was invited to all the formal events, present in all the roundtable discussion about the future of the world as they ruled it, and referenced in their histories and art as one of the most refined among their kind. That did not mean she had the same amount of respect and honor that the men of their kind did. Even as a vampire, Calliope faced the disregard that came with being a woman. After over a hundred years of letting it happen, of trying not to care, Calliope had a plan to replace herself at the front and center of it all.
She doubted she would win at the end of the game, but it would certainly be one of the best shows of not just the decade, but the entire century. Calliope intended to be known as its director, producer and screenwriter.
Waltzing into the ballroom, her heels clicked with every step. They were deadly, just as was the rest of her. Calliope's dress was black with a train of fabric following behind her. Red accents were inlaid into every seam, and the high-low pattern of the gown showed off the smooth lethality and opulence of her legs, the muscles only put more on display by the heels she had chosen. Yet tonight wasn't about showing off her physical strength. All vampires had that, after all, on supernatural levels that far exceeded anything humans could replicate. That strength radiated in her open shoulders and in the toxic combination of jewelry that she wore. It was evident in her fangs which were not receded on a night such as tonight when her very prowess was being put to the test. No, tonight was a night to show the power in her mind, to display for all just what a true threat she could be to the very foundations of their society when she wished to play dangerously. She could only hope it would attract some attention.
Before all that, though, she was expected to dance. Valeron was the first to take her hand - mostly because she had told him to. He was one of her neighbors as far as territory was concerned, and it was a show of dominance for her to test his ability to lead her. Their waltz was smooth, but plain. It was far too simple. Apparently, though, it was enough to start drawing the swarm. Nickolai was next in requesting her company. The man had a few decades over Calliope and he never let her forget it, but he tripped in his steps with their foxtrot, something Calliope vowed to never let him forget. That man snuck away before Calliope could ask if he wanted to try again. Pity. Dance after dance she flirted playfully and needlessly. That didn't stop her eyes from swarming the room, though, to seek out the man who owned the show.
Vampire King was his title. No one had given it to him, though. It was a title he had claimed for himself. Calliope saw him here and there, flitting among the crowd as he escorted other - much fresher - vampiresses to the dance floor. There was a smirk about every move he made, and Calliope could tell by the way he danced that even though he may have fancied some of his partners, he did not respect them in the slightest. Uriah never did. However, even he wasn't the most powerful man in the room, though. That honor rested with Ezrah Lias - Calliope's sire - and he was the next one she sought out with her gaze.
Ezrah was old, powerful, but his age was starting to betray him. It was apparently something that happened, even among immortals. His hair was silvering, his skin no longer suited him quite as well as it once did, and he slowed with his steps. However, that hadn't changed Calliope's respect for the man even if it had lowered him a few rungs on the totem pole among their kind. She approached him with grace that he had taught her and curtsied low. He was the only one who'd earned that gesture. "Sire," she greeted, the term swimming off her tongue with much more looseness than it had any right to. "What a wonder to see you tonight."
The elder vampire chuckled. "You knew you'd find me here, Callie. It's one of the few things I've not yet decided to miss."
"As is your right to decide," Calliope majestically replied. "Would you care to present me before His Highness? Perhaps request the honor of a dance?"
Although his eyebrows shot up, his expression betrayed nothing about his surprise at the request. Calliope had every right to wish to dance with the "Vampire King" and there was no one better suited to assert her right to such a request than the one man in the room who could claim nearly a century over Uriah. "I don't know what you're playing at, Cal, but come on. Let's get this over with." He knew a game was coming, and it wasn't one he looked forward to. However, it also wasn't his place to stop it.
As a dance came to an end, the two approached His Royal Highness and they each bowed in turn. "As wonderful a celebration as ever," Ezrah began, "and I'm sure we've your efforts to thank, Uriah. Might I reintroduce my progeny, Calliope Fairway. She governs the northwestern territories on this continent and I believe most in this room would be beyond awe if the two of you took to the floor together." His suggestion was subtle. He did not phrase it as a demand though he very well could have, and he tried to make it seem like a very kingly thing to accept. Uriah likely discerned that the request was hers rather than Ezrah's, but that was beside the point. Their kind was watching and he could only nod and extend a hand. Ezrah passed Calliope off of his own arm and onto Uriah's.
"The honor is mine," Uriah purred graciously as he kissed Calliope's hand and led her to the floor.
This dance, unlike the others she'd entertained on this night, meant something. The melody was haunting yet lilting. Their bodies rose and fell with every spin. Each move that Uriah made challenged Calliope's footsteps, but then she reciprocated every move he guided her through. They looked like practiced partners even though they'd never danced before. Calliope had never dared to request such a thing; tonight was a night of nights for her, really. It was a battle of wills, of minds, of time. And it was beautiful. Their performance was an apt way to close out that part of the evening. When the music came to a close, applause echoed from every corner of the room; they'd garnered an audience and hadn't even realized it themselves. Calliope dipped herself into the lowest curtsy she'd ever delivered, all while failing to give the submission that should've come with it. Her eyes remained fixed on Uriah's.
He was the first to step back.
"Thank you all for returning for this tradition of the ages," he finally spoke, addressing all of his kind that had assembled. "I think Calliope and I have both demonstrated an eagerness to continue with the evening, though, and the humans are meant to be the stars of this night. No moon shall out-glow them. They've spent their entire lifetimes to this point preparing to please us, preparing to taste just so for us, and preparing for the honor of being chosen by our most timeless. Only a few of thousands were chosen to be on display here tonight, and all will have homes by the end of it." Well, homes or graves. Some would be drained for the pleasure of the masses. "Let's bring them out, shall we!?" An uproar followed his soft spoken words, power carried not in how loud Uriah was, but in how well everyone listened. Calliope wanted that kind of power.
With two claps of his hands, a group of human vigils dressed in armor like knights started walking into the room with approximately thirty humans escorted between them. They walked in rows, all completely unclothed and on display for their vampire masters to assess and peruse as they pleased. "Please, take in the sights!" Uriah beckoned once all the humans were assembled in the center of the ballroom. It was an invitation for all the vampires present to walk among the humans, to learn their scents, to touch their flesh. No bites were permitted at this stage; it was merely an opportunity to survey the offerings and make some early decisions. Of course, some decisions had already been made. Those who Uriah favored had already submitted their selections. Everyone knew who was off limits because they'd already been claimed. Calliope had memorized the bingo card of options and as she glided between them, her eyes found the one that would be her prize - the one she wasn't supposed to have.
Marius had claimed this one. Her blonde hair was pristine and youthful. Her skin was nearly flawless. The one problem Calliope had as she ran her pristine nail along the lines of the girls under breast while standing behind her was that her hair had been straightened for Marius's pleasure. Calliope would've preferred the natural curls she'd seen advertised in the previews. "Mmm," Calliope's lips hummed together as she bent her neck, pressed her nose against the female's neck. Yes, she would do nicely. As Calliope finished that inspection, she made a show of examining others.
Of course, in her absence, the real villain descended upon the blonde human. Marius - Uriah's progeny - was not known for his kindness. He was a sadist to the very definition of the word and as he approached poor Eliza, his eyes danced along her flesh mere seconds before his hands found her pretty nipples, pinching each in turn to test how responsive she was. If she wasn't screaming, he would need to work on that. "Better get used to it, girl," he sneered at her, "because you're already mine. You just don't know it yet." Marius pulled her hair to one side with a rough tug that was undoubtedly painful, and brought his teeth to her neck. She would feel his fangs threatening her vein even while his hands prevented her from collapsing in shock or terror. They scraped her skin, lightly enough to avoid drawing blood, before he chuckled and walked away from her.
That wasn't the end of the inspections, either. A few others would no doubt be curious.
Calliope watched it all, too. This was just her beginning, after all.
The event wasn't foreign for the red haired woman who made her way out of the carriage she'd hired specifically to feel important. Really, she should've been considered important by many of their society's rules. Calliope Fairway was one of the eldest vampires on this side of the world, having participated in at least twenty of these ballroom extravaganzas in the past. She acted as queen over one of the continent's largest territories where she controlled her stock of humans and the vampires beneath her with ease and a diplomatic touch that bordered on mercurial. Blood was well regulated and she served as a resource for many of her neighbors when they faced shortages as a result of the gluttony of their kind; Calliope always made sure she got her fair share in return, too, when she saved someone from the consequences that a blood shortage would have. Her neighbors knew exactly how powerful she was, and neither of them would dare question her superiority.
The rest of the world was a different matter, though. They regarded her well. She was invited to all the formal events, present in all the roundtable discussion about the future of the world as they ruled it, and referenced in their histories and art as one of the most refined among their kind. That did not mean she had the same amount of respect and honor that the men of their kind did. Even as a vampire, Calliope faced the disregard that came with being a woman. After over a hundred years of letting it happen, of trying not to care, Calliope had a plan to replace herself at the front and center of it all.
She doubted she would win at the end of the game, but it would certainly be one of the best shows of not just the decade, but the entire century. Calliope intended to be known as its director, producer and screenwriter.
Waltzing into the ballroom, her heels clicked with every step. They were deadly, just as was the rest of her. Calliope's dress was black with a train of fabric following behind her. Red accents were inlaid into every seam, and the high-low pattern of the gown showed off the smooth lethality and opulence of her legs, the muscles only put more on display by the heels she had chosen. Yet tonight wasn't about showing off her physical strength. All vampires had that, after all, on supernatural levels that far exceeded anything humans could replicate. That strength radiated in her open shoulders and in the toxic combination of jewelry that she wore. It was evident in her fangs which were not receded on a night such as tonight when her very prowess was being put to the test. No, tonight was a night to show the power in her mind, to display for all just what a true threat she could be to the very foundations of their society when she wished to play dangerously. She could only hope it would attract some attention.
Before all that, though, she was expected to dance. Valeron was the first to take her hand - mostly because she had told him to. He was one of her neighbors as far as territory was concerned, and it was a show of dominance for her to test his ability to lead her. Their waltz was smooth, but plain. It was far too simple. Apparently, though, it was enough to start drawing the swarm. Nickolai was next in requesting her company. The man had a few decades over Calliope and he never let her forget it, but he tripped in his steps with their foxtrot, something Calliope vowed to never let him forget. That man snuck away before Calliope could ask if he wanted to try again. Pity. Dance after dance she flirted playfully and needlessly. That didn't stop her eyes from swarming the room, though, to seek out the man who owned the show.
Vampire King was his title. No one had given it to him, though. It was a title he had claimed for himself. Calliope saw him here and there, flitting among the crowd as he escorted other - much fresher - vampiresses to the dance floor. There was a smirk about every move he made, and Calliope could tell by the way he danced that even though he may have fancied some of his partners, he did not respect them in the slightest. Uriah never did. However, even he wasn't the most powerful man in the room, though. That honor rested with Ezrah Lias - Calliope's sire - and he was the next one she sought out with her gaze.
Ezrah was old, powerful, but his age was starting to betray him. It was apparently something that happened, even among immortals. His hair was silvering, his skin no longer suited him quite as well as it once did, and he slowed with his steps. However, that hadn't changed Calliope's respect for the man even if it had lowered him a few rungs on the totem pole among their kind. She approached him with grace that he had taught her and curtsied low. He was the only one who'd earned that gesture. "Sire," she greeted, the term swimming off her tongue with much more looseness than it had any right to. "What a wonder to see you tonight."
The elder vampire chuckled. "You knew you'd find me here, Callie. It's one of the few things I've not yet decided to miss."
"As is your right to decide," Calliope majestically replied. "Would you care to present me before His Highness? Perhaps request the honor of a dance?"
Although his eyebrows shot up, his expression betrayed nothing about his surprise at the request. Calliope had every right to wish to dance with the "Vampire King" and there was no one better suited to assert her right to such a request than the one man in the room who could claim nearly a century over Uriah. "I don't know what you're playing at, Cal, but come on. Let's get this over with." He knew a game was coming, and it wasn't one he looked forward to. However, it also wasn't his place to stop it.
As a dance came to an end, the two approached His Royal Highness and they each bowed in turn. "As wonderful a celebration as ever," Ezrah began, "and I'm sure we've your efforts to thank, Uriah. Might I reintroduce my progeny, Calliope Fairway. She governs the northwestern territories on this continent and I believe most in this room would be beyond awe if the two of you took to the floor together." His suggestion was subtle. He did not phrase it as a demand though he very well could have, and he tried to make it seem like a very kingly thing to accept. Uriah likely discerned that the request was hers rather than Ezrah's, but that was beside the point. Their kind was watching and he could only nod and extend a hand. Ezrah passed Calliope off of his own arm and onto Uriah's.
"The honor is mine," Uriah purred graciously as he kissed Calliope's hand and led her to the floor.
This dance, unlike the others she'd entertained on this night, meant something. The melody was haunting yet lilting. Their bodies rose and fell with every spin. Each move that Uriah made challenged Calliope's footsteps, but then she reciprocated every move he guided her through. They looked like practiced partners even though they'd never danced before. Calliope had never dared to request such a thing; tonight was a night of nights for her, really. It was a battle of wills, of minds, of time. And it was beautiful. Their performance was an apt way to close out that part of the evening. When the music came to a close, applause echoed from every corner of the room; they'd garnered an audience and hadn't even realized it themselves. Calliope dipped herself into the lowest curtsy she'd ever delivered, all while failing to give the submission that should've come with it. Her eyes remained fixed on Uriah's.
He was the first to step back.
"Thank you all for returning for this tradition of the ages," he finally spoke, addressing all of his kind that had assembled. "I think Calliope and I have both demonstrated an eagerness to continue with the evening, though, and the humans are meant to be the stars of this night. No moon shall out-glow them. They've spent their entire lifetimes to this point preparing to please us, preparing to taste just so for us, and preparing for the honor of being chosen by our most timeless. Only a few of thousands were chosen to be on display here tonight, and all will have homes by the end of it." Well, homes or graves. Some would be drained for the pleasure of the masses. "Let's bring them out, shall we!?" An uproar followed his soft spoken words, power carried not in how loud Uriah was, but in how well everyone listened. Calliope wanted that kind of power.
With two claps of his hands, a group of human vigils dressed in armor like knights started walking into the room with approximately thirty humans escorted between them. They walked in rows, all completely unclothed and on display for their vampire masters to assess and peruse as they pleased. "Please, take in the sights!" Uriah beckoned once all the humans were assembled in the center of the ballroom. It was an invitation for all the vampires present to walk among the humans, to learn their scents, to touch their flesh. No bites were permitted at this stage; it was merely an opportunity to survey the offerings and make some early decisions. Of course, some decisions had already been made. Those who Uriah favored had already submitted their selections. Everyone knew who was off limits because they'd already been claimed. Calliope had memorized the bingo card of options and as she glided between them, her eyes found the one that would be her prize - the one she wasn't supposed to have.
Marius had claimed this one. Her blonde hair was pristine and youthful. Her skin was nearly flawless. The one problem Calliope had as she ran her pristine nail along the lines of the girls under breast while standing behind her was that her hair had been straightened for Marius's pleasure. Calliope would've preferred the natural curls she'd seen advertised in the previews. "Mmm," Calliope's lips hummed together as she bent her neck, pressed her nose against the female's neck. Yes, she would do nicely. As Calliope finished that inspection, she made a show of examining others.
Of course, in her absence, the real villain descended upon the blonde human. Marius - Uriah's progeny - was not known for his kindness. He was a sadist to the very definition of the word and as he approached poor Eliza, his eyes danced along her flesh mere seconds before his hands found her pretty nipples, pinching each in turn to test how responsive she was. If she wasn't screaming, he would need to work on that. "Better get used to it, girl," he sneered at her, "because you're already mine. You just don't know it yet." Marius pulled her hair to one side with a rough tug that was undoubtedly painful, and brought his teeth to her neck. She would feel his fangs threatening her vein even while his hands prevented her from collapsing in shock or terror. They scraped her skin, lightly enough to avoid drawing blood, before he chuckled and walked away from her.
That wasn't the end of the inspections, either. A few others would no doubt be curious.
Calliope watched it all, too. This was just her beginning, after all.
Something Darker…: This is a primarily erotic based story following Opal McAlpine. After her mother passed, her stepfather - a mobster - sold her on an underground slave market because he didn’t want to deal with remnants of his dead wife. He wants to make sure she can never find her way back to his life and selling her on the underground seems as fair an option as any other. Opal is only 18 in this story and I imagine her purchaser to be older. This story could be M/F or F/F.
"Remember to grieve, Opes," a friend of her mother's had said to her at the funeral.
A few days later, Opal couldn't even remember who it had been that said it, let alone how they'd been able to maneuver her away from her stepfather long enough to utter the words. In the three days since the service, she hadn't been allowed to leave the house once. Even when Chase was gone on business or finishing up some work at the office, his security detail seemed to leave a few members behind to make sure she stayed put. Myles had returned to school; no one stopped him from leaving every morning. However, Opal was trapped. Something was coming, and the brunette knew that whatever it was couldn't be good.
She'd always been the bane of her stepfather's existence. Opal had advocated for her mother to leave the relationship that slowly but surely killed the woman from the inside out. Once her mother was pregnant with Myles, though, she had tempered back on that conversation because she knew it resulted in death threats on both her own life and her mother's. Myles was his heir, after all. He'd needed that. Chase had sorely needed that. It didn't stop Opal from caring for the young lad like a brother when she could, but he hadn't come home the previous night. When Opal tried to ask Chase about it, he'd just grumbled. Then, when she pressed for info, he'd locked her in her room, stating that it was for her own good. She missed dinner because of it, and he didn't care. The door hadn't opened since then, which left Opal to listen and watch out the one window she had access to.
It hadn't always been so bad for her. When her mother had been around, Chase had focused more on his wife than on the daughter his wife had with another man before they'd met. To that day, Opal wasn't sure why the man married her. He certainly didn't love her. Love was a fairy tale, though. That much she knew.
Watchful blue eyes absorbed the sight of Chase's car pulling into the driveway. All the way into the garage it went. She couldn't tell who had been driving or if he'd been in the car or not, but she wouldn't have to wait long to know. The loud crash of metal colliding with too many things soon greeted her ears, so sudden that she recoiled from it. The sound grew closer, and yet softer at the same time. Footsteps pounded on the floor, a sign of feet moving with intention. Then she heard the lock flip and her bedroom door flung open.
"Alright, Little Gem," her stepfather, Chase, spewed, not caring where his spit went as he spoke. Her mother's nickname for her was not something Opal enjoyed hearing roll off of Chase's tongue. "It's time to go. Don't worry about packing anything. I was told they'll have all you need." Then he did the one thing Opal never thought she would see him do. Chase reached around the corner of the door to bring the source of the colliding metal sound into her bedroom, and it was a fucking cage! It looked like it was designed for a large dog, but he held the door open, gesturing inside, like he expected her to waltz in of her own accord.
Instead, all she did was pull back, increasing the distance between them, and shake her head. "You're out of your mind." It sounded almost as though her words were spoken in a trance. Opal could not believe what she was seeing, after all. Even with her own mother, he'd never caged her.
Later, she would wonder how she didn't see it in one of his hands. In the moment, all she could do was raise her arms to shield her face as a belt lashed through the air and struck her flesh. The resounding crack wasn't pleasant, and neither was her scream. "I'd hate to bruise you more, but I will if I have to, you little bitch! Now get in!!"
Seeing what her mother had endured meant that Opal had no choice but to believe him with his threat. She'd seen him do it to her. Why not Opal as well? Though her arm that the belt had warped around on impact wasn't bleeding, Opal could see the red lines as she examined the source of her pain, and she held the arm close to herself as she did as she was told and climbed into the cage. He shut the door behind her, forcefully and loudly, before he clicked the padlock into place. Running wasn't an option anymore. There was very little delay before he picked up the cage, carrying it with her inside through their home and out the back door, bringing her into the garage where his options for transportation awaited. Neils, his chauffeur, was waiting as well. With a single gesture, Chase had the man opening the trunk of a black jeep, and the cage, with Opal included, was shoved inside before it all went dark.
Opal wasn't a large person by any means. Her waist was thin, hips enough but bearing nothing extra. Though her legs were toned from a lot of time on her feet, the rest of her muscle mass was abysmal, likely because Chase had never left much in the house for her to eat. Despite it, her mother had ensured that Opal knew how to take care of herself. Her brown hair hung just above her shoulders, was thick and well kept. Her bright blue eyes always seemed to reflect the light just so, making them almost seem to glow. Yet, even with her petite form, Opal could not get comfortable in that cage. It was too big where it should have been smaller and too small where she needed just a single inch more to stretch. The vehicle's movement didn't help, either. Every time she found a way to lean that didn't hurt her shoulder, there would be a turn that would tumble her out of position. The situation was agonizing.
And it wasn't about to stop there.
Movement stopped just a minute before the trunk opened. This time, it was Neils who grabbed her cage. He didn't say anything - didn't even look at her. Opal didn't even try to plead. The brightness of an early morning sun left her blinded for a moment before she took stock of where they were.
A pet shop!? Seriously!?
There was no explanation as they opened the door like welcome guests, nor any words as they walked all the way to the back, and into a space that Opal wished she could unsee the moment she saw it. Hers wasn't the only cage holding a human occupant. Several sat on shelves in the room, labels with names, ages and some dates. How long they'd been there, perhaps? Other objects were also clearly on sale. Collars, leashes, canes… She didn't get a chance to read anything in more detail before a new individual entered her line of sight. This man shook Chase's hand like a long lasting business partner and Opal bit her cheek to see if she was dreaming. "Jin, thank you for the call. I was wondering when you would have a spot for our dear Opal, here," her stepfather spoke with glee.
The man - Jin - nodded and then moved to inspect Opal's cage. She pulled away from him as much as he could, but that couldn't halt the judgment in his eyes. "Hmm," he considered, "we normally expect them to come presentation ready, but for the price she'll bring, we can make some alterations to our typical deals. It would just require a small sedative so we can sculpt without trouble. Is that agreeable?"
Opal immediately started shaking her head in refusal, having no clue what this man was talking about, but apparently, he wasn't asking her because Chase replied. "Of course! I'd love it if you could pretty her up."
Taking a moment to glare at her stepfather had been her downfall, because the prick to her shoulder meant Jin was already moving. And whatever it was, it hit her fast and hard. There was only one other part of the conversation that she could hear before her world went black once more. "You did say that she's untouched, yes?"
"Yes."
By the time she next woke up, Opal couldn't recall her question of what that had meant. The first thing that hit her instead was a chill in the air. Goosebumps lined her flesh and she felt her nipples pebble from the cold under the thin translucent fabric she now wore. It was fitted on the top, like a bra, but then as it traveled down, its translucency became less and it became more of a dress. She pushed herself upright, feeling the cold of the bottom of the cage against her thighs and her ass. That brought a flash to her mind. Why would it be cold there? Her hands explored and she realized why. Whoever had dressed her hadn't put anything on underneath the babydoll top. Fear quaked through her awareness. This was really happening. Her stepfather was selling her like some kind of slave.
The bell rang, indicating a customer entering, and Opal shuffled back, whining as her back hit the edge of the cage and she couldn't run anywhere else. She started to curl her knees up to her chest only to realize that could put something very intimate right on display. The woman's arms curled over her breasts, trying to hide what she could to very little avail. Unbeknownst to her, her cage came with a label and a price tag.
A few days later, Opal couldn't even remember who it had been that said it, let alone how they'd been able to maneuver her away from her stepfather long enough to utter the words. In the three days since the service, she hadn't been allowed to leave the house once. Even when Chase was gone on business or finishing up some work at the office, his security detail seemed to leave a few members behind to make sure she stayed put. Myles had returned to school; no one stopped him from leaving every morning. However, Opal was trapped. Something was coming, and the brunette knew that whatever it was couldn't be good.
She'd always been the bane of her stepfather's existence. Opal had advocated for her mother to leave the relationship that slowly but surely killed the woman from the inside out. Once her mother was pregnant with Myles, though, she had tempered back on that conversation because she knew it resulted in death threats on both her own life and her mother's. Myles was his heir, after all. He'd needed that. Chase had sorely needed that. It didn't stop Opal from caring for the young lad like a brother when she could, but he hadn't come home the previous night. When Opal tried to ask Chase about it, he'd just grumbled. Then, when she pressed for info, he'd locked her in her room, stating that it was for her own good. She missed dinner because of it, and he didn't care. The door hadn't opened since then, which left Opal to listen and watch out the one window she had access to.
It hadn't always been so bad for her. When her mother had been around, Chase had focused more on his wife than on the daughter his wife had with another man before they'd met. To that day, Opal wasn't sure why the man married her. He certainly didn't love her. Love was a fairy tale, though. That much she knew.
Watchful blue eyes absorbed the sight of Chase's car pulling into the driveway. All the way into the garage it went. She couldn't tell who had been driving or if he'd been in the car or not, but she wouldn't have to wait long to know. The loud crash of metal colliding with too many things soon greeted her ears, so sudden that she recoiled from it. The sound grew closer, and yet softer at the same time. Footsteps pounded on the floor, a sign of feet moving with intention. Then she heard the lock flip and her bedroom door flung open.
"Alright, Little Gem," her stepfather, Chase, spewed, not caring where his spit went as he spoke. Her mother's nickname for her was not something Opal enjoyed hearing roll off of Chase's tongue. "It's time to go. Don't worry about packing anything. I was told they'll have all you need." Then he did the one thing Opal never thought she would see him do. Chase reached around the corner of the door to bring the source of the colliding metal sound into her bedroom, and it was a fucking cage! It looked like it was designed for a large dog, but he held the door open, gesturing inside, like he expected her to waltz in of her own accord.
Instead, all she did was pull back, increasing the distance between them, and shake her head. "You're out of your mind." It sounded almost as though her words were spoken in a trance. Opal could not believe what she was seeing, after all. Even with her own mother, he'd never caged her.
Later, she would wonder how she didn't see it in one of his hands. In the moment, all she could do was raise her arms to shield her face as a belt lashed through the air and struck her flesh. The resounding crack wasn't pleasant, and neither was her scream. "I'd hate to bruise you more, but I will if I have to, you little bitch! Now get in!!"
Seeing what her mother had endured meant that Opal had no choice but to believe him with his threat. She'd seen him do it to her. Why not Opal as well? Though her arm that the belt had warped around on impact wasn't bleeding, Opal could see the red lines as she examined the source of her pain, and she held the arm close to herself as she did as she was told and climbed into the cage. He shut the door behind her, forcefully and loudly, before he clicked the padlock into place. Running wasn't an option anymore. There was very little delay before he picked up the cage, carrying it with her inside through their home and out the back door, bringing her into the garage where his options for transportation awaited. Neils, his chauffeur, was waiting as well. With a single gesture, Chase had the man opening the trunk of a black jeep, and the cage, with Opal included, was shoved inside before it all went dark.
Opal wasn't a large person by any means. Her waist was thin, hips enough but bearing nothing extra. Though her legs were toned from a lot of time on her feet, the rest of her muscle mass was abysmal, likely because Chase had never left much in the house for her to eat. Despite it, her mother had ensured that Opal knew how to take care of herself. Her brown hair hung just above her shoulders, was thick and well kept. Her bright blue eyes always seemed to reflect the light just so, making them almost seem to glow. Yet, even with her petite form, Opal could not get comfortable in that cage. It was too big where it should have been smaller and too small where she needed just a single inch more to stretch. The vehicle's movement didn't help, either. Every time she found a way to lean that didn't hurt her shoulder, there would be a turn that would tumble her out of position. The situation was agonizing.
And it wasn't about to stop there.
Movement stopped just a minute before the trunk opened. This time, it was Neils who grabbed her cage. He didn't say anything - didn't even look at her. Opal didn't even try to plead. The brightness of an early morning sun left her blinded for a moment before she took stock of where they were.
A pet shop!? Seriously!?
There was no explanation as they opened the door like welcome guests, nor any words as they walked all the way to the back, and into a space that Opal wished she could unsee the moment she saw it. Hers wasn't the only cage holding a human occupant. Several sat on shelves in the room, labels with names, ages and some dates. How long they'd been there, perhaps? Other objects were also clearly on sale. Collars, leashes, canes… She didn't get a chance to read anything in more detail before a new individual entered her line of sight. This man shook Chase's hand like a long lasting business partner and Opal bit her cheek to see if she was dreaming. "Jin, thank you for the call. I was wondering when you would have a spot for our dear Opal, here," her stepfather spoke with glee.
The man - Jin - nodded and then moved to inspect Opal's cage. She pulled away from him as much as he could, but that couldn't halt the judgment in his eyes. "Hmm," he considered, "we normally expect them to come presentation ready, but for the price she'll bring, we can make some alterations to our typical deals. It would just require a small sedative so we can sculpt without trouble. Is that agreeable?"
Opal immediately started shaking her head in refusal, having no clue what this man was talking about, but apparently, he wasn't asking her because Chase replied. "Of course! I'd love it if you could pretty her up."
Taking a moment to glare at her stepfather had been her downfall, because the prick to her shoulder meant Jin was already moving. And whatever it was, it hit her fast and hard. There was only one other part of the conversation that she could hear before her world went black once more. "You did say that she's untouched, yes?"
"Yes."
By the time she next woke up, Opal couldn't recall her question of what that had meant. The first thing that hit her instead was a chill in the air. Goosebumps lined her flesh and she felt her nipples pebble from the cold under the thin translucent fabric she now wore. It was fitted on the top, like a bra, but then as it traveled down, its translucency became less and it became more of a dress. She pushed herself upright, feeling the cold of the bottom of the cage against her thighs and her ass. That brought a flash to her mind. Why would it be cold there? Her hands explored and she realized why. Whoever had dressed her hadn't put anything on underneath the babydoll top. Fear quaked through her awareness. This was really happening. Her stepfather was selling her like some kind of slave.
The bell rang, indicating a customer entering, and Opal shuffled back, whining as her back hit the edge of the cage and she couldn't run anywhere else. She started to curl her knees up to her chest only to realize that could put something very intimate right on display. The woman's arms curled over her breasts, trying to hide what she could to very little avail. Unbeknownst to her, her cage came with a label and a price tag.
Plots:
Princess and her Knight in Armor: Character A has been protected since early in her youth by a knight (Character B) assigned to act as her champion and defend her honor against anything that might bring shame or doubt upon her status. They’ve gotten along well for so long. They laugh together, they cry together. She is always smiling when they have something to say about it. However, her nervousness at a betrothal to a prince faraway creates new turmoil. Is this prince truly worthy of her innocence? Can Character B really protect her when someone else will become so important in her life? And what of Character B’s feelings on the matter… the princess has been theirs for so long and somewhere along the way, they fell in love. Will the princess reciprocate?
Slave, Then Lover, Then Savior: A small city of humanity discovered a tribe of shifters. Such a unique discovery, of course, couldn't be left alone. Humans had to meddle. They captured them, caged them like animals, experimented on them, and then turned them into entertainment for the masses. Now it's a spectacle that draws in audiences worldwide. Character A is a fighter. They grew up in a fighting pit of shifters, trained to battle much like gladiators. Character B owns some of the fighters, sees to their needs, but has never gotten too close out of fear of their "savagery." However, when Character A gets injured just after he acquires her in a trade deal, he finds himself tending to her injuries and the chemistry is undeniable. How much hope is there in a relationship akin to slavery, though? And running simply isn't an option. Character A won't leave without freeing the rest of their people as well.
Blood that Calls: Character A is a changeling. They have been raised in a village of humans, and they absolutely believe in their humanity. They have always walked with slightly more grace, been a bit more charming and learned a little bit faster. It’s nothing that’s caught attention, though. At least, it hasn’t in town. However, outside of town, the very scent and sound of her blood has drawn them. Character B is an ancient vampire who’s been looking for anything remotely interesting to pass time given they’ve seen so much in their centuries long lifetime. Character A’s blood might just be the spark they need. It sounds musical, smells like chocolate and wine, and sings to their senses more than any human they’ve ever tasted. Of course, having a vampire move in frightens the townsfolk to no end, and they come to a quick arrangement that allows Character B to have their pick of the townsfolk to sate their tastes, to save the rest. Character B makes a show of it, but knows all along who they will pick. Character A doesn’t react to their bite like a human would, though. For a human, the bite numbs and dulls. For Character A, the bite is an aphrodisiac beyond wonders. And Character A quickly becomes addicted to vampire blood. It’s quite an intoxicating combination. What happens, though, when the fae come in to reclaim their own? When they’re highly displeased to find a vampire reducing one of their kind to nothing more than an amusement, albeit one where pleasure is shared?
Preserving a Bloodline: Character A is a member of a rare bloodline, one whose blood is much more potent and satiating to a vampire than typical. And their bloodline is dying. The ruling council of vampires has a plan in place to use those who remain in the bloodline in an extensive breeding program designed to make their bloodline far more prevalent. When Character A is attacked, though, Character B is the nearest who can save her with his blood… which begins forging a bond. Character A becomes Character B’s possession effectively, and they’re not fond of sharing. What will happen when a human finds themself locked in a game of tug of war between the ruling council and a very powerful vampire outcast who doesn’t play fair?
Short Term Options:
What if you're thinking that you really want to write with me, but you'd rather stick with something simple? There's one of my favorite mottos (even though I'm terrible at following it) of "KISS". Keep. It. Simple. Silly. (Or, there's another word that can go there, but I want to be nice.) I am willing to consider and explore some options for a short term roleplay involving two characters and a world around them. It's possible that it could grow into something more, but we don't force it. We let it be what it is. For these options, I have pairings rather than plots, and if you're interested, you can give me some options for what our small conflict is between the two characters. These stories still cannot be slow-burn, but I'll do a little bit more slice of life stuff at times in these situations.
Pairings (this list will grow I'm sure):
- Sister x Brother's best friend
- Witch x Demon / Devil
- Bartender x Lonely Customer
- Tattoo Artist x Client
- Princess x Prince
- Sexual stage performer x New performer in training
Closing Remarks:
If you made it through that, thanks for reading! If you're interested, PM me and let me know what you'd like to write! I do write males as well (as previously stated), and if you're interested in any of these plots or proposals with me playing the male lead, I can do that too! I'll be getting that thread up soon-ish (TM), but I'm open to PMs with those requests in the meantime as well.