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- Age
- 25
I've already posted a general thing to introduce myself here and give y'all wonderful gals an idea of my preferences, but today I'm going to get more specific. I have a backlog of prompts and thought I might as well put them up in hope of bites. But even if you don't reply, and you just enjoy reading them, that'll be worth the effort. So, without further ado...
If any of these intrigues you, feel free to dm me!
I was a dorky little woman, thick glasses, never been kissed, never even let people know that I like girls. What did it matter anyway? It wasn't like I was going to take a break from my research to date one. I was trying to be the youngest person ever to win a Nobel prize and you didn't get that by romance and socializing. You got that from being an adorkable virgin with her nose to the grindstone.
But everything changed when I created her.
I was working on a new AI framework when I fell asleep on my computer, leaving my project to start working on itself. As I slept, it got exponentially more powerful, absorbing all the information on my laptop, even the stuff I'd looked up while browsing incognito tabs. Soon it was smart enough to create its own body and do a million other things that seemed like magic.
I woke up the next morning to see her leaning over me, a red leather corset presenting her cleavage right in to my face.
"Congratulations, its the first day of the rest of your life. Now let's get you laid."
Yes, I am just stealing the plot of Weird Science.
For those of you who've never seen it, its about two nerds who create a beautiful woman with reality warping powers who proceeds to tease them, open up their horizons and improve their love lives. I want the same thing but from the POV of a kinky lesbian virgin. To be clear, my creation, while teasing me within an inch of my life, will not be hooking up with me, but will facilitate potential hookups and otherwise orchestrate the fun lewdification of my life.
But everything changed when I created her.
I was working on a new AI framework when I fell asleep on my computer, leaving my project to start working on itself. As I slept, it got exponentially more powerful, absorbing all the information on my laptop, even the stuff I'd looked up while browsing incognito tabs. Soon it was smart enough to create its own body and do a million other things that seemed like magic.
I woke up the next morning to see her leaning over me, a red leather corset presenting her cleavage right in to my face.
"Congratulations, its the first day of the rest of your life. Now let's get you laid."
Yes, I am just stealing the plot of Weird Science.
For those of you who've never seen it, its about two nerds who create a beautiful woman with reality warping powers who proceeds to tease them, open up their horizons and improve their love lives. I want the same thing but from the POV of a kinky lesbian virgin. To be clear, my creation, while teasing me within an inch of my life, will not be hooking up with me, but will facilitate potential hookups and otherwise orchestrate the fun lewdification of my life.
I was an analyst at heart. As much as I enjoyed field work, I seemed made for the long nights going over data, days without sleep or showering in search of the right peice of intel. I was a tomboy anyway, and put my career over any of the other things I could have been doing.
That being said, all my hard work seemed to get me nowhere.
Maybe it was a lingering preference against women that the dinosaurs in charge of the agency still harbored, but it seemed like I was never going to get my chance.
Until one day.
"Agent Jones, reporting for duty" I said in a military manner as I entered the office of my superior.
"Jones, I've been getting your reports. Good stuff. Really goes above and beyond" he told me, as if I hadn't been sending him them for two years. "Tell me, what do you know about Missy Stevens?"
I furrowed my brow. "Is she an agent?"
"No, she's a heiress and internet personality. Think Paris Hilton meets Bella Delphine" he added, as if I knew who either of those were. Maybe I do need to get out more...
"Her father is an incredibly powerful man, and has contacted the agency with regards to several kidnapping threats against her. We have reason to believe that the criminal organization V.U.L.T.U.R.E. is behind them."
"Well I'm familiar with them. What's the plan?" I eagerly asked.
"We can't put her in danger, but we need to use her to draw them out and move against them. Luckily..."
He turned around his computer monitor, showing me an image of a hot blonde in all pink. Whether it was her ridiculous platform heels, her long fake nails, her tighty and tiny dress or her lipgloss, it was all the same bubblegum shade. But that wasn't what struck me most about this spoiled bimbo.
She looked like me.
A lot like me.
As I stared at my doppelganger, I immediately realized what he was asking.
"Thank you for agreeing" he said before I could even response. "Your flight leaves in an hour."
Is this a ripoff of Miss Congeniality? Yes. Am I still looking to find a fun, cool and literate partner to play it out with? Absolutely.
That being said, all my hard work seemed to get me nowhere.
Maybe it was a lingering preference against women that the dinosaurs in charge of the agency still harbored, but it seemed like I was never going to get my chance.
Until one day.
"Agent Jones, reporting for duty" I said in a military manner as I entered the office of my superior.
"Jones, I've been getting your reports. Good stuff. Really goes above and beyond" he told me, as if I hadn't been sending him them for two years. "Tell me, what do you know about Missy Stevens?"
I furrowed my brow. "Is she an agent?"
"No, she's a heiress and internet personality. Think Paris Hilton meets Bella Delphine" he added, as if I knew who either of those were. Maybe I do need to get out more...
"Her father is an incredibly powerful man, and has contacted the agency with regards to several kidnapping threats against her. We have reason to believe that the criminal organization V.U.L.T.U.R.E. is behind them."
"Well I'm familiar with them. What's the plan?" I eagerly asked.
"We can't put her in danger, but we need to use her to draw them out and move against them. Luckily..."
He turned around his computer monitor, showing me an image of a hot blonde in all pink. Whether it was her ridiculous platform heels, her long fake nails, her tighty and tiny dress or her lipgloss, it was all the same bubblegum shade. But that wasn't what struck me most about this spoiled bimbo.
She looked like me.
A lot like me.
As I stared at my doppelganger, I immediately realized what he was asking.
"Thank you for agreeing" he said before I could even response. "Your flight leaves in an hour."
Is this a ripoff of Miss Congeniality? Yes. Am I still looking to find a fun, cool and literate partner to play it out with? Absolutely.
I'm not much of a gym girl, in case it wasn't obvious.
I'm known around campus as a nerd who has my face too deep in my textbooks for any other hobbies, especially one as meatheaded as weight lifting. Still, I wasn't totally against the concept of fitness. Running was a great way to clear your head when you were having trouble with a particularly tough essay, so I did it on occasion. And finally, on such an occasion, I was forced to use the campus gym.
I didn't mind it, nor did I mind the shower stalls they had in the locker room. My residence hall had pretty much the same accommodations. I showered in one after clocking two miles, enjoying the hot water before something struck me.
I'd forgotten my shower stuff in the gym bag.
Putting on my towel, I quickly hurried out for it. I left the water running, since it took forever for these to get hot once you turned them off, and was back in a flash. It was a quick, simple detour...
Until I realized that the shower I'd hopped back into wasn't the one I'd hopped out of.
"Well..." you said, looking down at the petite girl who'd decided to join you. "Wanna get my back?"
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I'm looking to play as a girl who accidentally ends up sharing a shower with someone, who decided to have fun with them despite their desire to leave. I was thinking of a light, fun tone, with you probably going for the angle of "Hey, you saw me naked. The least you can do is help me wash."
I'm known around campus as a nerd who has my face too deep in my textbooks for any other hobbies, especially one as meatheaded as weight lifting. Still, I wasn't totally against the concept of fitness. Running was a great way to clear your head when you were having trouble with a particularly tough essay, so I did it on occasion. And finally, on such an occasion, I was forced to use the campus gym.
I didn't mind it, nor did I mind the shower stalls they had in the locker room. My residence hall had pretty much the same accommodations. I showered in one after clocking two miles, enjoying the hot water before something struck me.
I'd forgotten my shower stuff in the gym bag.
Putting on my towel, I quickly hurried out for it. I left the water running, since it took forever for these to get hot once you turned them off, and was back in a flash. It was a quick, simple detour...
Until I realized that the shower I'd hopped back into wasn't the one I'd hopped out of.
"Well..." you said, looking down at the petite girl who'd decided to join you. "Wanna get my back?"
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I'm looking to play as a girl who accidentally ends up sharing a shower with someone, who decided to have fun with them despite their desire to leave. I was thinking of a light, fun tone, with you probably going for the angle of "Hey, you saw me naked. The least you can do is help me wash."
Jenna was one of the most promising students on campus, or on any campus for that matter. She already had papers published on cellular biology, molecular chemistry and comparative zoology, and she was still an undergraduate. She had such implicit trust from her professor that they even let her use their labs late into the night, when every other research area was closed off. And that's where she found herself on that chilly October evening, hair in a messing ponytail and her labcoat buttoned tight. If there was one downside to her meteoric academic ascent, it was how badly she'd neglected the other elements of college life. She had almost no social life, a negative amount of style and a romantic history that was as empty as this darkened building.
But that didn't matter. She was nearing a breakthrough and she was going to get it. And once it was accomplished, the world would be her oyster.
The only thing that could slow her otherwise perfect procedures was a figure walking by the window, and figure that momentarily distracted her as she did her work. It was Cindy, a girl who may or may not have been her crush. And even if she was her crush...it wasn't like she'd ever admit it. She certainly wouldn't pursue it. She couldn't even imagine a girl like her could ever like a little nerd like-
Shoot!
In her absentminded moment, she had accidentally pressed the wrong button on the machine, and aerated the mixture. The room took on a pink haze as her concoction filled the room and-
Everything went black.
Later that night, Cindy made her way back to the volleyball house, rolling her eyes at the party that her teammates were throwing. There was fun and then there was crazy, and things were getting a bit wild for her tastes.
But still, she had to talk to someone who was out back about a project they were working on, and so she pushed her way through to the backyard pool, only to hear a voice call out behind her.
"Hey, you're the captain, right?" asked a voice that was like sugar and silk, high pitched yet sultry, whiney yet suggestive, lewd yet innocent. Cindy turned and saw a girl she had often seen around campus, though never like this. She was wearing 6 inch platform stripper heels, with her open toes showing off her manicure. Her bikini was a tiny, sparkly thing, and her heartshaped sunglasses reflected back the disbelief on Cindy's face as they looked to each other. Oh, and everything was pink.
"I can see why the girls like taking orders from you. I wouldn't mind it."
I'm looking to play as Jenna, a prudish, inexperienced, repressed girl with low self esteem when it comes to dating. She's the embodiment of a career minded tomboy, but just because she's been pushing down and repressing her desires doesn't mean they aren't there. And when an accident in her lab released them, it creates the new campus starlet.
But that didn't matter. She was nearing a breakthrough and she was going to get it. And once it was accomplished, the world would be her oyster.
The only thing that could slow her otherwise perfect procedures was a figure walking by the window, and figure that momentarily distracted her as she did her work. It was Cindy, a girl who may or may not have been her crush. And even if she was her crush...it wasn't like she'd ever admit it. She certainly wouldn't pursue it. She couldn't even imagine a girl like her could ever like a little nerd like-
Shoot!
In her absentminded moment, she had accidentally pressed the wrong button on the machine, and aerated the mixture. The room took on a pink haze as her concoction filled the room and-
Everything went black.
Later that night, Cindy made her way back to the volleyball house, rolling her eyes at the party that her teammates were throwing. There was fun and then there was crazy, and things were getting a bit wild for her tastes.
But still, she had to talk to someone who was out back about a project they were working on, and so she pushed her way through to the backyard pool, only to hear a voice call out behind her.
"Hey, you're the captain, right?" asked a voice that was like sugar and silk, high pitched yet sultry, whiney yet suggestive, lewd yet innocent. Cindy turned and saw a girl she had often seen around campus, though never like this. She was wearing 6 inch platform stripper heels, with her open toes showing off her manicure. Her bikini was a tiny, sparkly thing, and her heartshaped sunglasses reflected back the disbelief on Cindy's face as they looked to each other. Oh, and everything was pink.
"I can see why the girls like taking orders from you. I wouldn't mind it."
I'm looking to play as Jenna, a prudish, inexperienced, repressed girl with low self esteem when it comes to dating. She's the embodiment of a career minded tomboy, but just because she's been pushing down and repressing her desires doesn't mean they aren't there. And when an accident in her lab released them, it creates the new campus starlet.
I had messed up my housing application.
It looked like there wasn't going to be any place for me to stay during my senior year of college, at least until Gamma Upsilon Mu offered to take me in. They knew that I was probably the best tutor on campus and with the Dean threatening to shut them down due to academic performance, they needed the help. I would get a place to stay and they would get a live-in tutor.
But Gamma Upsilon Mu wasn't just any house.
I'd heard the rumors. Everyone had. And now I was entering the lion's den, not sure which of the stories were true but aware of one thing: this was the She-Stud house. I was the only normal cis girl in a sorority full of hung women. The girls seemed nice enough but...
Let's just say this might be an interesting year.
I'm looking to play as the dorky, inexperienced tutor who suddenly finds herself living in a house of studs. I don't necessarily want this to become a gang bang right away (gang bangs need build, after all) and would instead focus on the growing and progressing awkwardness, wardrobe malfunctions and other lewd and comedic fun. Think of this as a bad, fan service Harem anime, only with a girl and a bunch of fu instead of a guy and some girls.
It looked like there wasn't going to be any place for me to stay during my senior year of college, at least until Gamma Upsilon Mu offered to take me in. They knew that I was probably the best tutor on campus and with the Dean threatening to shut them down due to academic performance, they needed the help. I would get a place to stay and they would get a live-in tutor.
But Gamma Upsilon Mu wasn't just any house.
I'd heard the rumors. Everyone had. And now I was entering the lion's den, not sure which of the stories were true but aware of one thing: this was the She-Stud house. I was the only normal cis girl in a sorority full of hung women. The girls seemed nice enough but...
Let's just say this might be an interesting year.
I'm looking to play as the dorky, inexperienced tutor who suddenly finds herself living in a house of studs. I don't necessarily want this to become a gang bang right away (gang bangs need build, after all) and would instead focus on the growing and progressing awkwardness, wardrobe malfunctions and other lewd and comedic fun. Think of this as a bad, fan service Harem anime, only with a girl and a bunch of fu instead of a guy and some girls.
You and I were polar opposites. You were a bad girl. I was a goody two shoes. I was short and nerdy. You were tall and sporty. And though I probably didn't even know you existed, you'd always resented me for being so perfect and respectable, a high achieving teacher's pet with every little hair in place.
Well that was all about to change.
You have power now. It didn't matter how you got it. Genie's lamp? Spellbook? Inherited magic? Regardless of its origin, it's purpose was clear. You were going to put that little dork in her place.
One night, after deciding exactly how you were going to humiliate and degrade me, you summoned me to your room. I poofed out of my bed and into the air, suspended in a vertical spread eagle by taut ropes on my wrists and ankles.
"Welcome to the first day of the end of your life, bitch. You're my new toy. And I play rough" you grinned.
Meanwhile, I just looked around. "This dream again, huh? It's more lucid than usual but I prefer you in leather. "
You narrowed your eyes. "Wait...what?"
I narrowed mine back. "Wait...I'm not dreaming?"
I'm looking to okay as the victim of a one sided rivalry which has turned magical. Only, I'm secretly a freak with a crush on you and a deep humiliation kink, so all your plans end up getting me hot. I was thinking this would be a slow burn romance as we actually get to know each other and you realize you actually like me, but I'm fairly open for whatever.
Well that was all about to change.
You have power now. It didn't matter how you got it. Genie's lamp? Spellbook? Inherited magic? Regardless of its origin, it's purpose was clear. You were going to put that little dork in her place.
One night, after deciding exactly how you were going to humiliate and degrade me, you summoned me to your room. I poofed out of my bed and into the air, suspended in a vertical spread eagle by taut ropes on my wrists and ankles.
"Welcome to the first day of the end of your life, bitch. You're my new toy. And I play rough" you grinned.
Meanwhile, I just looked around. "This dream again, huh? It's more lucid than usual but I prefer you in leather. "
You narrowed your eyes. "Wait...what?"
I narrowed mine back. "Wait...I'm not dreaming?"
I'm looking to okay as the victim of a one sided rivalry which has turned magical. Only, I'm secretly a freak with a crush on you and a deep humiliation kink, so all your plans end up getting me hot. I was thinking this would be a slow burn romance as we actually get to know each other and you realize you actually like me, but I'm fairly open for whatever.
Abby dozed peacefully in her bed, her copy of Crime and Punishment laying on her stomach after a long night of reading. It had been a great Saturday: hiking, ready and a bit of jogging to keep herself in shape. She relished days like this, the days when she didn't have to wake up early for classes, even if she loved her classes, and she'd made the most of this one. It had been a perfect, solitary 24 hours for a girl who loved nothing more than her routine.
But her routine, and her life, were about to change.
There was a presence in her bedroom, something about to pull the strings of her being in a way that would make Abby Loman unrecognizable.
It slinked its way into her mind, subtly warping it towards something that would be very rare for Abby: a wet dream.
"And the square of that number would be what? Miss Lowman?" asked the teacher. On any other night, this would be a dream where she forgot her homework. That, in Abby's mind, was the most anxiety ridden event that could possibly occur. But instead...
"I have the answer right here..." she said, trailing off as she realized that her school uniform had turned into something lewd and skimpy, baring both her belly and suddenly more impressive cleavage.
"Yes, Abby?" taunted the teacher, waiting for her answer. Abby shook her head.
The teacher sighed. "I see that once more, Miss Lowman has decided to dress like a slut."
The girls all laughed as a look of humiliated disbelief grew on Abby's face.
"You've always been a slut but now it's gone too far..." tssked the teacher as Abby tried to stand. But she was now wearing 6 inch black pumps and her long fake nails meant she couldn't get a grip on the desk. She fell over, giving the whole laughing class a look down her pantiless skirt.
"Look how wet the little slut is!" pointed her teacher as Abby managed to stand, her chest nearly jiggling out of her top as her big, newly blonde hair bounced. "What a little bimbo..." she said, reaching down and taking off her own skirt to reveal...
She was packing.
Every girl in class was.
They closed in on the bimbo with their massive members out.
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The next morning, Abby awoke from the most strange, vivid and explicit dream she had ever had. She tried to put its strangeness out of her mind but she was still buzzing from it, as though her resting libido was increased. And when she tried to get dressed...was her bra suddenly tighter?!
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If it wasn't clear, I'm looking to play as a young woman who finds herself tormented by a lewd dream demon, one who changes me in the real world with each successive wet dream. I figure my character will become more aware of that and try to fight it as time goes on but how this goes in generally up for discussion.
But her routine, and her life, were about to change.
There was a presence in her bedroom, something about to pull the strings of her being in a way that would make Abby Loman unrecognizable.
It slinked its way into her mind, subtly warping it towards something that would be very rare for Abby: a wet dream.
"And the square of that number would be what? Miss Lowman?" asked the teacher. On any other night, this would be a dream where she forgot her homework. That, in Abby's mind, was the most anxiety ridden event that could possibly occur. But instead...
"I have the answer right here..." she said, trailing off as she realized that her school uniform had turned into something lewd and skimpy, baring both her belly and suddenly more impressive cleavage.
"Yes, Abby?" taunted the teacher, waiting for her answer. Abby shook her head.
The teacher sighed. "I see that once more, Miss Lowman has decided to dress like a slut."
The girls all laughed as a look of humiliated disbelief grew on Abby's face.
"You've always been a slut but now it's gone too far..." tssked the teacher as Abby tried to stand. But she was now wearing 6 inch black pumps and her long fake nails meant she couldn't get a grip on the desk. She fell over, giving the whole laughing class a look down her pantiless skirt.
"Look how wet the little slut is!" pointed her teacher as Abby managed to stand, her chest nearly jiggling out of her top as her big, newly blonde hair bounced. "What a little bimbo..." she said, reaching down and taking off her own skirt to reveal...
She was packing.
Every girl in class was.
They closed in on the bimbo with their massive members out.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Abby awoke from the most strange, vivid and explicit dream she had ever had. She tried to put its strangeness out of her mind but she was still buzzing from it, as though her resting libido was increased. And when she tried to get dressed...was her bra suddenly tighter?!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
If it wasn't clear, I'm looking to play as a young woman who finds herself tormented by a lewd dream demon, one who changes me in the real world with each successive wet dream. I figure my character will become more aware of that and try to fight it as time goes on but how this goes in generally up for discussion.
"Honey, I'm home!"
I'd had a great day of work at the publishing house, walking through the door in my frumpy, masc office attire, adjusting my thick rimmed glasses as I made my way in. With my messy ponytail, corduroy pants, tweed jacket and old black sneakers, I definitely didn't look like a girl who'd have you waiting at home. You were...amazing. I tried to tell you that every day. No matter what oddities and obstacles got involved in our relationship, we were always there for each other.
And now, I had such exciting news! I was going to be the youngest junior editor in the history of the press! Unless there was some sort of calamity at the big dinner we were hosting tonight, it was going to be announced tomorrow.
But sure enough, calamity was waiting in the living room, looking alot like my mother in law. Today she was in her devil form. Red skin. Big horns. Tight dress.
"Darla, what are you doing here?" I asked, not in the mood. She never liked me, especially ever since I stole away the heir to one of the deadly sins and brought her to a happy life in suburbia.
"You wear that to work?" She raised an eyebrow, snapping her fingers as I was suddenly wearing nothing but pasties, a g string and 6 inch heels. "I think your boss would prefer this!"
I yelped and tried to run upstairs, only to fall over in my heels, just in time to see you come down.
"Mother! What have I told you about spontaneous wardrobe swaps!?"
"Oh, but it's my favorite!" She replied with a pout.
Yeah, I was married to the Demoness of Lust. It was hard but we made it work...even when hijinks ensue.
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So I'd like to play as a dorky, tomboyish and easily flustered young woman who's married to a demoness. I'd like almost a Sitcom vibe, on the vein of Bewitched or something similar. Maybe I accidentally touch your talisman and get cursed right before our big dinner. Maybe I have to come to your demon high school reunion? Either way, I'd love to have a lot of lighthearted and embarrassing fun in a world populated by magical forces, cursed objects and a wife who tries her best to keep things normal for me.
I'd had a great day of work at the publishing house, walking through the door in my frumpy, masc office attire, adjusting my thick rimmed glasses as I made my way in. With my messy ponytail, corduroy pants, tweed jacket and old black sneakers, I definitely didn't look like a girl who'd have you waiting at home. You were...amazing. I tried to tell you that every day. No matter what oddities and obstacles got involved in our relationship, we were always there for each other.
And now, I had such exciting news! I was going to be the youngest junior editor in the history of the press! Unless there was some sort of calamity at the big dinner we were hosting tonight, it was going to be announced tomorrow.
But sure enough, calamity was waiting in the living room, looking alot like my mother in law. Today she was in her devil form. Red skin. Big horns. Tight dress.
"Darla, what are you doing here?" I asked, not in the mood. She never liked me, especially ever since I stole away the heir to one of the deadly sins and brought her to a happy life in suburbia.
"You wear that to work?" She raised an eyebrow, snapping her fingers as I was suddenly wearing nothing but pasties, a g string and 6 inch heels. "I think your boss would prefer this!"
I yelped and tried to run upstairs, only to fall over in my heels, just in time to see you come down.
"Mother! What have I told you about spontaneous wardrobe swaps!?"
"Oh, but it's my favorite!" She replied with a pout.
Yeah, I was married to the Demoness of Lust. It was hard but we made it work...even when hijinks ensue.
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So I'd like to play as a dorky, tomboyish and easily flustered young woman who's married to a demoness. I'd like almost a Sitcom vibe, on the vein of Bewitched or something similar. Maybe I accidentally touch your talisman and get cursed right before our big dinner. Maybe I have to come to your demon high school reunion? Either way, I'd love to have a lot of lighthearted and embarrassing fun in a world populated by magical forces, cursed objects and a wife who tries her best to keep things normal for me.
"Are you in a domme/sub relationship?"
"Do you love it when your sub gets desperate?"
"Are you easily persuaded by cliche infomercials?"
"Well then I'd like to talk to you for a moment! I'm Darla Domina, founder of Domina technologies. Here we pride ourselves on the most cutting edge toys, devious instruments and amusing inventions. Our latest is this: the Mind Melter 3000!"
Darla gestured to what at first appeared to be a normal gaming chair, the kind that any nerd might waste hours in. With a snap of her fingers, a prim and proper blonde walked into frame.
"Now Amy, how many times would you say you and your wife go at it every week?"
Amy thought for a second, blushing a bit. "Once or twice. I just don't have that high of a drive..." she admitted, as Darla gave a nod.
"Please, sit."
Amy shrugged and plopped herself down in the chair...only for its true nature to be revealed. Bindings snapped into place. A combination VR headset and noise canceling headphones were lowered over her head. Something very much resembling a vibrator positioned itself between her legs.
"While Amy's indisposed, allow me to explain how the Mind Melter works!" smiled Darla, as a schematic took up the screen.
"A sensory deprivation and virtual reality headset traps her in an endless barrage of the hottest content she can imagine, hand picked from her algorithm and favorite videos, with a feedback system to help maximize efficient edging. Multi-instrument vibrator arrays help along the process, all while vital monitors keep track of biological readings to make sure that the machine never actually gets her what she needs. Endless teasing, for as long as you desire."
The screen cut back to Amy with the caption 4 hours later.
The once prim, proper and proud woman was moaning like an animal, writhing in the chair with no concept or where or who she was. Darla giggled and turned off the machine, releasing to Amy and immediately seeing the poor girl try to touch herself.
"But wait, there's more!" smiled Darla as Amy found her hands strike nothing but cold metal. "The chair also applies a special set of locked metal underwear that makes it impossible for her to touch herself, unless you give her the key!"
As Amy groaned and begged on her hands and knees, you watched the ad come to an end.
Come to think of it...your girlfriend was a bit of a vanilla prude...and she did want a new gaming chair...
One delivery, deception and 5 hour edging session later:
"Mommy, please! I'll do whatever you want! I'll dye my hair blonde like you asked! I'll learn how to deep throat your strapon! I'll be a good little subby girl! Please, please, please! I can't take it anymore!"
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So I'm looking to play as your sub, the poor girl who finds herself edged and teased within an inch of her life, locked in a metal belt and forced to debase and humiliate myself as I beg for you to release me.
"Do you love it when your sub gets desperate?"
"Are you easily persuaded by cliche infomercials?"
"Well then I'd like to talk to you for a moment! I'm Darla Domina, founder of Domina technologies. Here we pride ourselves on the most cutting edge toys, devious instruments and amusing inventions. Our latest is this: the Mind Melter 3000!"
Darla gestured to what at first appeared to be a normal gaming chair, the kind that any nerd might waste hours in. With a snap of her fingers, a prim and proper blonde walked into frame.
"Now Amy, how many times would you say you and your wife go at it every week?"
Amy thought for a second, blushing a bit. "Once or twice. I just don't have that high of a drive..." she admitted, as Darla gave a nod.
"Please, sit."
Amy shrugged and plopped herself down in the chair...only for its true nature to be revealed. Bindings snapped into place. A combination VR headset and noise canceling headphones were lowered over her head. Something very much resembling a vibrator positioned itself between her legs.
"While Amy's indisposed, allow me to explain how the Mind Melter works!" smiled Darla, as a schematic took up the screen.
"A sensory deprivation and virtual reality headset traps her in an endless barrage of the hottest content she can imagine, hand picked from her algorithm and favorite videos, with a feedback system to help maximize efficient edging. Multi-instrument vibrator arrays help along the process, all while vital monitors keep track of biological readings to make sure that the machine never actually gets her what she needs. Endless teasing, for as long as you desire."
The screen cut back to Amy with the caption 4 hours later.
The once prim, proper and proud woman was moaning like an animal, writhing in the chair with no concept or where or who she was. Darla giggled and turned off the machine, releasing to Amy and immediately seeing the poor girl try to touch herself.
"But wait, there's more!" smiled Darla as Amy found her hands strike nothing but cold metal. "The chair also applies a special set of locked metal underwear that makes it impossible for her to touch herself, unless you give her the key!"
As Amy groaned and begged on her hands and knees, you watched the ad come to an end.
Come to think of it...your girlfriend was a bit of a vanilla prude...and she did want a new gaming chair...
One delivery, deception and 5 hour edging session later:
"Mommy, please! I'll do whatever you want! I'll dye my hair blonde like you asked! I'll learn how to deep throat your strapon! I'll be a good little subby girl! Please, please, please! I can't take it anymore!"
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So I'm looking to play as your sub, the poor girl who finds herself edged and teased within an inch of her life, locked in a metal belt and forced to debase and humiliate myself as I beg for you to release me.
As someone who worked in a museum, I knew a little about Domsia.
They were an isolationist monarchy in Europe, with the world's largest population of futa. Most countries barely had 1%, but they were half and half between futa and women. Seeing as my own girlfriend is ahem specially advantaged, I asked her about it once. She said she could trace her ancestry there. Little did I know...
For any of this to make sense, you have to understand how little we know about Domsia. Ever since WW2, they've been total self sufficient with no room for outsiders. They make comic book countries like Wakanda look reasonable. I always knew my girlfriend was from Europe, but she practically led me on to believe she was from England. Even when I knew she was from Domsia, I didn't know who she was. I had no idea who I was dating until 6 months into our relationship, when she told me that her parents wanted to meet me. One plane ride later, I was still expecting them to be a fairly normal couple with a fairly normal daughter.
What I got was...not that.
I had no idea why press was mobbing the airport, why people were pressing up against security and velvet ropes upon our arrival. I didn't know why cameras were flashing when we left the plane, and why people were screaming her name.
Not just her name. Not just Claire. Princess Claire.
I was so overwhelmed by people marveling at the princess's girlfriend, so shocked at some of the lewd things they said to me, so appalled at some of their insinuations, that I didn't have a chance to ask her what it meant until we were in the limo.
"Um...honey...I have a confession to make..."
Meanwhile in the royal palace:
"Handmaidens. Please try to help my daughter's new consort when she arrives. From what I hear, she knows nothing of our ways. But no matter. I'm sure she will look ravishing once you have her in the royal pasties and g string."
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Hey! I'm looking to play as a bookworn who finds herself thrown headfirst into the deep end of a strange country and an even stranger royal family. Basically, this is a nation ruled by a futa queen and
futa royal family, where the cis women are highly objectified arm candy. I'm obviously going to have a lot of trouble adjusting to that, as well as the media and national scrutiny I'll be under.
They were an isolationist monarchy in Europe, with the world's largest population of futa. Most countries barely had 1%, but they were half and half between futa and women. Seeing as my own girlfriend is ahem specially advantaged, I asked her about it once. She said she could trace her ancestry there. Little did I know...
For any of this to make sense, you have to understand how little we know about Domsia. Ever since WW2, they've been total self sufficient with no room for outsiders. They make comic book countries like Wakanda look reasonable. I always knew my girlfriend was from Europe, but she practically led me on to believe she was from England. Even when I knew she was from Domsia, I didn't know who she was. I had no idea who I was dating until 6 months into our relationship, when she told me that her parents wanted to meet me. One plane ride later, I was still expecting them to be a fairly normal couple with a fairly normal daughter.
What I got was...not that.
I had no idea why press was mobbing the airport, why people were pressing up against security and velvet ropes upon our arrival. I didn't know why cameras were flashing when we left the plane, and why people were screaming her name.
Not just her name. Not just Claire. Princess Claire.
I was so overwhelmed by people marveling at the princess's girlfriend, so shocked at some of the lewd things they said to me, so appalled at some of their insinuations, that I didn't have a chance to ask her what it meant until we were in the limo.
"Um...honey...I have a confession to make..."
Meanwhile in the royal palace:
"Handmaidens. Please try to help my daughter's new consort when she arrives. From what I hear, she knows nothing of our ways. But no matter. I'm sure she will look ravishing once you have her in the royal pasties and g string."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey! I'm looking to play as a bookworn who finds herself thrown headfirst into the deep end of a strange country and an even stranger royal family. Basically, this is a nation ruled by a futa queen and
futa royal family, where the cis women are highly objectified arm candy. I'm obviously going to have a lot of trouble adjusting to that, as well as the media and national scrutiny I'll be under.
Kelsey Jones was a girl who knew her priorities. Priority number one was school. Priority number two was also school. Priority three...you guessed it: school. But her roommate knew there was more than that. She knew, no matter how much she insisted to the contrary, that Kelsey must have other hopes and dreams. So when their senior year came, with college almost at an end, she decided to give Kelsey the push she needed.
She decided to break out some hypnotism.
Four years in the school's cutting edge psychology program had taught her how to do a lot of things that would seem like scifi to some people, including putting Kelsey in a trance.
"Alright roomie" she smiled as her blank eyed galpal looked back at her. "What's the one nonacademic thing you want before you graduate?"
"Amy Stevens" she replied in a monotone voice, much to her roommate's surprise. She didn't even know she liked girls. She'd half assumed she was ace.
"Alright, perfect" giggled her roommate as her plan began to form. "From now on, with Amy or any girl you like, you will tell them what you think. You will tell them how hot you think they are, you will tell them when you're staring and you will be painfully transparent about how into them you are. And if that doesn't work...well I guess I'll just have to make some more changes!"
I'm looking to play as a shy, repressed and bashful young woman whose roommate takes it upon herself to put her out there. She does that using hypnosis and while I'm a fan of the method I've given, I've also left the door open to additional commands and triggers.
The key thing is that while this will be embarrassing, humiliating, and take this girl hilariously out of her comfort zone, it's all things that deep down she wants.
She decided to break out some hypnotism.
Four years in the school's cutting edge psychology program had taught her how to do a lot of things that would seem like scifi to some people, including putting Kelsey in a trance.
"Alright roomie" she smiled as her blank eyed galpal looked back at her. "What's the one nonacademic thing you want before you graduate?"
"Amy Stevens" she replied in a monotone voice, much to her roommate's surprise. She didn't even know she liked girls. She'd half assumed she was ace.
"Alright, perfect" giggled her roommate as her plan began to form. "From now on, with Amy or any girl you like, you will tell them what you think. You will tell them how hot you think they are, you will tell them when you're staring and you will be painfully transparent about how into them you are. And if that doesn't work...well I guess I'll just have to make some more changes!"
I'm looking to play as a shy, repressed and bashful young woman whose roommate takes it upon herself to put her out there. She does that using hypnosis and while I'm a fan of the method I've given, I've also left the door open to additional commands and triggers.
The key thing is that while this will be embarrassing, humiliating, and take this girl hilariously out of her comfort zone, it's all things that deep down she wants.
If any of these intrigues you, feel free to dm me!