IsabellaRose

Guilty. I'm trying to get through these few weeks while my girlfriend is traveling for work, but I surely do miss cuddles on demand. The next person would come cuddle with me even if it were just platonic and they knew it wouldn't lead anywhere.

pussy cat

shaved poodle

IF we start, who's going to finish?

Guilty, always. The next poster doesn't like physical contact with strangers.

You nod slowly, reluctantly, but you nod. You wish you were stronger, wish you could resist him, but you know that this will end the same whether or not you fight. The only difference is that if you fight, you'll be beaten and bruised... you might even be killed. You can feign obedience for your survival, at least long enough until you can find a chance to strike. "You are in control," you say. "I am at your mercy." His grin grows even darker as you nod your acquiescence. "Good girl," he says, his hand still strong on your wrist. He tugs you closer and you take two quick steps toward him to keep your balance, your slippers sliding on the stone floor. His hand releases your wrist and his fingers curl into your hair. With his other hand, he strokes your cheek slowly, almost as if he were stroking a favored pet. "Good girl," he says again. This time you feel shame rise within you. You are a princess of the realm, now the leader of House Valoryn. You can't debase yourself like this. But you are debasing yourself before this knight, letting him touch you, speak to you like any other... "Very well," he says, and lets go of your hair, his other hand moving to his a pouch at his side and removing a length of leather thong. "I will take you before my king, let you plead your case." His hands are on your wrists without warning, and he's binding them together with the leather thong. He loops rope through the leather binding your wrists together in front of you, and you realize that you are on now bound and a lead, a prisoner. No sooner is his knot complete than he begins walking, and you are tugged along behind him by the lead. He's about to parade you out of the castle and into the courtyard before all of the rest of the enemy soldiers, the princess of House Valoryn, bound and subservient. If you let him lead you like a slave on a leash, click here. If you try to get closer, grab his knife, and attack him before there are more enemies around you, click here.

wife abuser

drug addicts

kiss girls

I think I watched the series exactly twice, so not guilty. The next person has a favorite brand of shoes/sneakers.

Is this a good time to start?

Guilty, but only over the past 8 years or so. There was a point where I felt safe as a woman and coming out as bi, but with all the regressive policies around here, the fact that they want to make it impossible for me to marry my love (and I was only JUST considering marriage as a possibility for the first time in my life!)... sigh. Yeah. I think about it more and more. This isn't the only free country in the world; it's just the only country that thinks it's the only free country in the world. The next person wishes people could just live and let live.

Guilty. I finally struck gold in almost every aspect of my life. Well... family relations need some help. But otherwise, living pretty well. The next person has a dream for their life they hope to fulfill.

Not guilty... unless it's rambling and incoherent. The next person is loved.

sue everyone

You nod slowly, reluctantly, but you nod your agreement. You wish you were stronger, wish you could resist him, but you know that this will end the same whether or not you fight. The only difference is that if you fight, you'll have more bruises, possibly cuts... you might even be killed. Your body is what he wants. You can give him that much for your survival, or least pretend to until you can find a way to escape. His grin grows even darker as you nod your acquiescence. "Good girl," he says, his fingers still curled in your hair. With his other hand, he strokes your cheek slowly, almost as if he were stroking a favored pet. "Good girl," he says again. This time you feel the shame rise within you. You are a princess of the realm, now the leader of House Valoryn. You can't debase yourself like this. But you are debasing yourself, kneeling before this knight, letting him speak to you like just another... He tugs hard on your hair and you climb quickly to your feet. His eyes are hard and he moves his hand to your throat, squeezing just enough to let you know he's still in control. "Take off your dress, Princess," he says, and lets go of your throat. "Let me see my property." You've seen this once, on a trip south with your father, at a slave auction. The women were stripped naked, shown to prospective buyers. The implication was clear, and it is to you now. You have given yourself to him, and until you can find a way to escape, you have to play along or face the consequences. His hand across your face, slapping you hard enough that you almost fall over, returns you to the present. "Strip." He says, his voice a harsh command. You touch your cheek, feel the burn that remains after the pain of the slap, but one look in his eyes tells you that you can't delay or worse will follow. Slowly, your fingers work at the ribbons lacing up the front of your gown, but you know you can't get the ones in the back, the ones your lady in waiting laced up carefully for you, pulling them hard to cinch tight around your waist. But still... Once you finish unlacing the front of your dress, you slowly spread the two side of the fabric aside. The air is cool on your chest and you feel your cheeks flush as you pull it open to expose your breasts. This is embarrassing, degrading, and you look down at the floor, unable to meet the knight's eyes. You hear his chuckle and then a moment of silence before he says, "all of it, princess. The whole dress comes off." You look up and the lecherous gaze you see makes you shudder. "I cannot," you say, and quickly explain. "The back, my maids do up the back. I cannot reach it." He makes a spinning motion with one finger indicating he wants you to turn around. You do, and feel his hand upon your shoulder. He is close behind you. You feel movement, and then hear the sound of fabric shredding. Your dress begins to feel looser, and you realize he is cutting it away. With a quick jerk, he tugs your dress down and off of you. The fabric pools around your feel, a deep well of crimson, the color of House Valoryn. You are wearing nothing now but the embroidered chemise. "Take it off," he commands, and you know you must comply. You slide the chemise off one shoulder, and then the other, moving slowly but deliberately. There is nothing for it but to strip fully, and as you slide the soft, white fabric down and off of your body, you feel yourself growing even redder, if such a thing were possible. When you stand back up you are naked, wearing nothing but your jewelry and slippers, fully exposed before the enemy knight. His eyes move up and down your body as your hands move to cover yourself, one arm across both breasts, a hand between your legs pressed tight over your privates. You look away. You can't bear his scrutiny. "You are indeed a prize," he says, and pokes into the pooled fabric of your crimson dress with the tip of his sword. You close your eyes tightly. You can't look. You can't meet his gaze. There is meant to be an escape, but you don't see one, and now you're naked before him. His hands are on you without warning, and you expect the worst. But instead, he has your wrists, and he's binding them together with some sort of leather thong. He loops rope through the leather binding your wrists together in front of you, and you realize that you are on a lead, like a horse. He motions to the ruined dress at your feet. "Pick it up," he says. "Bring it. I will have it made into something more suitable to your new station." You bend, grab the dress in a giant handful of ripped fabric and try to get a grip on it with your hands bound. It takes a minute, but you lift it and hold it before you. Hugging the fabric to your nudity, it offers a brief respite from full exposure. No sooner do you have the remains of the dress in hand, than he begins walking, and you are tugged along behind him by the lead. He's about to parade you out of the castle and into the courtyard before all of the rest of the enemy soldiers, completely naked, barely covered by the shredded remains of your dress clutched in front of you by your bound hands. If you let him lead you like a slave on a leash, click here. If you plead with him to allow you clothing, click here. If you try to slip the lead and make your escape naked, click here.

seducing mary

I imagine everything is an art form for the Xiangalese. Their cuisine offers taste sensations unlike any other, all strictly vegetarian, like: a glowing, golden syrup of spiced nectar that warms the body from within; delicate, fluid-filled pearls of flavor that burst upon the tongue, flooding the mouth with waves of flavor and cool euphoria; cloudlike confections that melt instantly, leaving a tingling breath of flavor; flavored mists inhaled rather than eaten, stimulating the taste buds through breath; ephemeral sweets that seem to fade from existence just before they are swallowed, leaving behind only pure pleasure; a rare fruit that when consumed removes all other sensations for a brief moment before bringing them back in an overwhelming flood. But food is more than just the taste sensation, the ritual of eating is an artform in and of itself. Food is often shared directly between lovers and partners, eaten from each other’s hands or lips to enhance the intimacy of the experience. Communal feasting involves cycles of pleasure, where different elemental foods are offered one after the other, creating waves of shifting sensations. I was also wondering about how they would interact with others, which would invariably mean hostile others, especially if there are humans on the planet. I imagine they have their own "martial" art, which would be an exclusively of a defensive technique - the Art of Disarming Through Pleasure or something. They probably can overwhelm an aggressors senses to the point that they feel no more aggression and simply give in to pleasure. I wonder how that would work...

Hard half-guilty. While I love to cook and usually do, sometimes it's nice to go out and get some new taste inspirations, or try a meal by someone who has made cooking tasty food their life's work. I usually try new restaurants near me, and when they're brand new I love to chat with the staff, chef, and owners. One guy brought his family recipes from New Orleans (mom) and Memphis (dad) and opened a place up north where I live. The food was amazing, and it wasn't far from my office. I ate there a couple days a week when I still lived in the city. He sat with me after I tried each special and asked what I thought, we chatted about food and cooking inspiration, his mother came out of the kitchen to hang out with me, they always had the bartended give me a free drink... sometimes that kind of thing makes it worth going out. Same kind of amazing family chatty experience more recently at a Thai place that just opened up. Three times in one week and the owner and his wife were so chatty and friendly. The next person didn't bother reading my entire wordvommit reply above.

bloody murder

rose buds

Oh, I like that. The dark side of the Xiangal expresses as a sort of BDSM thing. I imagine that all forms of sensual experience are valid to the Xiangal. I like the idea that they're the "beyond" part... once you've experienced all that Xiangal society has to offer, there are whispers of more, something dark and forbidden, something beyond the pleasure you've come to know, a new layer of sensation.

A whole one... just... raw? Guilty. The next person has never been to a five-star restaurant.

Would you believe that I don't eat cereal?

Not guilty. I've been all food snobby and started making my own whipped cream which isn't super hard and is so light and delicious! The next person loves the stuffed crust.