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Everything posted by krakendaddy

  1. I dread to think how Bart's going to end up, but these Succubi seem to have a twisted sense of humour. I'm looking forwards to playing him like a mega-bastard until he's finally confronted with his sins.
  2. For the sake of completion, I've added a picture, but I don't think it's going to be relevant for too much longer!
  3. Thanks! Sorry, I thought the entrance would be a bit of a given. Won't happen again.
  4. Location: Black City Residential Area As Kent drove, he used his phone to text his assistant, making arrangements to provide cover for the next few days. There'd be questions, of course; there always were. He'd worked for twenty years and he'd taken less than twenty days of holiday. Still, his customers needed reliability and he would be letting them down, maybe even losing some crucial business; but some things were worth giving up for the hard-won treat he had in store. At night, the suburbs were dead quiet, but Kent had lived here long enough to know that the image of a sleepy suburb was an illusion for the untrained eye. The observant would notice nosey neighbours twitching curtains at the slightest noise. The lonely old widowers and bored housewives alike hovered at their windows looking for the latest scoop, and Kent was determined that his perfectly cultivated persona wasn't to be a target for their next localized smear campaign. As his van churned passed the manicured lawns, he waved a small, polite wave from his steering wheel in the direction of the the eyes that emerged from the dark windows. Polite, friendly, and a small undertone of Yes, I see you too! He pulled his van into his bungalow's garage, and slowly lowered the door to shield his prey from their gaze. Kent breathed a long, drawn out sigh of relief. It had been a monumentally huge risk, it could have gone wrong at any moment, but he was finally safe. He turned his head slowly to see his prize, still struggling to kneel with her arms still bound behind her back and let out a deep mirthless chuckle. "Still got some fight in you? Good. This is going to be a lot of fun." He jumped out the van giddily, the vigor of his youth returning to him the closer he got to his prize. Heavy footfalls on the concrete floor echoed around the van, stomping towards the trunk and swinging it open suddenly. He picked up Iris, slinging her waist over his shoulder and using a wide, meaty paw to hold her wriggling form steady by a firm grip of her ass. She was no more than a doll to be manhandled now, although he made sure not to forget his doll's accessories; her all important book, and a bag of her possessions he planned to rake through while he broke her. He carted his prize into the hallway, descending the stairs into Iris' personalised hell.
  5. Kent watched her approach, a hand in front of her eyes, wide and innocent. She seemed trusting. He readed the cuffs with a hand behind his back and offered the book no more than half a meter in front of him; a trap baited perfectly for his prey. "Yes of course it'll be our secret..." The moment her hand gripped the book, he grabbed her wrist and cuffed it. The look of shock in her eyes was one to savour, but now was not the time. He yanked her towards him, twisting her body as if part of a strange ballroom dance, such that her arm was behind her back, and his free hand was wrapped tightly around her neck; cutting off her oxygen so she couldn't call for help. As Iris' arm shot up to pry his arm away from her neck, he used the opportunity to lock her other wrist in the cuff. She was heavier than he imagined, her heaving bosom contributing more to his weight than he'd first thought; throwing his balance off ever so slightly. His strong farmer genes still coursed through his veins, though, and his time wrestling unruly beasts helped against the struggling maid. He picked her up by the waist, a hand still wrapped tightly around her neck, and lifted her to the back of the van. Using his free hand, he fumbled with the back door and dumped her unceremoniously into the storage space in the back. The most important thing was the gag, after that he'd have a free hand to secure her. He could feel the time slipping by, his likelihood of a clean getaway getting smaller and smaller as he jammed the gag into her mouth and secured it tightly behind her head. The rope unfurled. At home there would be time to tie her up in all sorts of intricate and playful knots, but right now he needed her functionally bound to stop her escaping. He started with her flailing legs, sitting on the girls hips heavily so she had less range of motion, and began a quick box tie around her knees to stop her moving. Once this was in place, he got up and rolled her on her side, securing her legs to to her neck. He fished for the handcuff key in his pocket, taking a second to admire her helpless squirming, before uncuffing a wrist and recuffing it behind her back. It was a quick and dirty hogtie, but it would hold until he got her away from prying eyes. Kent got out the van, and took a deep breath. From now on, he was just a simple baker completing a long day of distributing his bread around the city. Calmly, cooly, he entered the driver's seat and reversed back up the alleyway and made his way back to his lair with his newly captured prize.
  6. I see, so it is you. Sure. I'll meet you there tomorrow. Kent spent the afternoon making deliveries around town in his van, making polite conversation with the owners as he delivered palettes of bread to restaurants, sandwich carts, cafes. He was proud of his business, selling artisanal loafs from the suburbs so good, that there were even spots deep in town making orders. While he was never going to beat any of the bigger conglomerates on quantity, he had carved his niche in the market with both quality and variety. By late afternoon, his van had gone from heaving to a large empty space, save for a plain cloth sack brimming with ill intent. Late afternoon, he parked in a secluded spot, taking his time to prepare before the meet; taking the cuffs from the sack and leaving the rest in the back of the van. He went over the details in his head, his plan relied largely the towering strength difference between himself and Iris, but surprise would be a factor too. He would offer her the book, say his goodbyes, then pounce as she was about to walk away. By early evening, just after dusk, it was time to meet the girl. He drove the van down the back alley, lighting the way with the headlamps; blocking most of the only street-facing exit with the girth of his van, stopping about 30 meters from his soon to be victim. He hopped out the van, leaving the engine running and the lights blinding anyone facing the van from the staff-door of the maid cafe; a quick getaway was going to be vital. The handcuffs were crammed in a back pocket, where she wouldn't see them until too late. He cut an imposing silhouette past the headlights. "Hey there! Sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush. I've got your... literature."
  7. Ahh, Iris. How can I be sure this is you? Can you tell me the contents of the book? Kent sat, self-satisfied at how this plan was working out so far. While the hunger of his youth had crept back into his life, he was determined to augment it with a dash of his hard-won meticulousness. The cheap phone he'd picked up in town would make it difficult to trace, should someone come looking. He'd spent around 30 minutes typing responses and deleting them, before landing on a more subtle line getting her to admit what the stakes were; hoping to discourage the notion that she would bring someone else along. Kent flicked a switch and descended the steps into his cellar with cleaning supplies and took in the dusty scene. The roof and floor had a few heavy metal eyelets secured deeply into the structure of the house, a padded leather bench and pelvis height could only have one purpose, a wooden frame with shackles was anchored to the far wall, a table had sex toys of various size and intent laid neatly along the table; a homemade dungeon that he'd constructed while dating. It'd been years now since the last woman in his life was driven away by a slippery slope of ever-more degrading sex scenes. He got to work putting it back into working order: scrubbing the surfaces, preparing rope into immediately useable loops, washing each toy in purpose-made cleaner reverently. All this cleaning left him in a zen-state as he thought of future steps. From here on it would be trickier: while he'd have liked to have her walk into his house willingly, there was always the danger that she would tell someone where she was going; but if he met her somewhere else she could be seen walking back with her. It would call for a secluded spot where he could overpower her and bundle her in the back of his van. Maybe the answer would be to meet her in the service entrance of the maid cafe, the alley would be secluded enough if they had the right moment; all he'd have to do would be meet her as she was coming off-shift, and no one would be looking for her until the next day. He grinned, his disquieted mind finally at peace, as he readied a pair of cuffs, a gag and a length of rope; depositing them into a cloth bag in the back of his van. His deliveries into town were about to get far more interesting.
  8. Kent looked up, looks like his time had started. He thought back to his coffee, guessing it would take about as long as his window to prepare. "Oh, not to worry. You deserve a break. Another of your wonderful coffees, if you please." He set his expectations as he took one last look to make sure the staff were busy. This should just be a recon, anyways. He'd probably have to come back with lockpicks or something, if he hadn't talked himself out of it by then. He strode confidently towards the toilets, and at the last second switched directions and took the door to the back room; freezing for a second on the other side of the door in case he was spotted. It looked like he'd made it, and what luck he'd had! Each locker was named, and left unlocked. Some where even wide open! This place truly was a paradise, where maids could be plucked like low hanging fruit. He made straight for Iris' locker and stopped to enjoy another deep breath of her orchid sent from her blouse and long skirt neatly folded inside. It made sense, he mused, that she would want to spend her time away from the cafe more modestly dressed, though that was far from the plan he had for her. Two minutes left. He stated to dig through her bag, looking for anything she might misplace, and found a curious black book; something she wanted to cherish, or hide? Less than a minute. He flicked through and stopped at a page. Ah. Smut. Boring smut, but boring smut she was trying to hide. Jackpot! He pocketed the book in his waistline, trapping it behind his belt and under a knitted jumper. He was tidying up his work, leaving the bag as close to how he found it, and half-jogged through the door with around 30 seconds to spare. Before heading to his seat, he headed to the toilets and washed his hands, making sure to nod at a passing patron coming the other way. It looked like he'd gotten away with it, all he had to do now was play it cool. He planned his next steps, settling on phoning the cafe the next morning to say he found a book of hers, and leaving a number to arrange pick up. Kidnap on demand. This really was paradise.
  9. He was expecting something cranked out of an expensive machine, good beans but soulless; so the first sip took him entirely by surprise. For a second, scent and flavour enveloped his whole world. The delicate flavour of the beans had been allowed to breathe with a more gentle brewing process, but how was that possible in a busy cafe like this? He was bowled over that he could get a cup of coffee better than the Toasted Bean in a place like this. "This is truly delightful. Maybe the best I've ever tasted. Thank you. Nothing more just now." He took in the maids nametag before she left, and returned to savour his coffee some more, watching Iris go about her business. He took all of her in, and began to daydream. She clearly delighted in the attention, was so sure of herself; and he would love to rob her of that assuredness. Those wide hips that she liked to jiggle in the faces of men practically begged for his cock to be buried deep inside them. He imagined taking a fistful of her white hair, pulling it back for leverage; her expression cum drunk and begging: "Please fuck me, Maaasterrr" It'd been a long time since he'd forced anyone to do his bidding, and he was surely too out of practice; these were just daydreams, he reassured himself. He let his mind drift from her to the other maids, and between daydreams, a small part of him that he'd long since locked away chimed in: there was a pattern here. He looked a little more closely, and saw it clear as day; When a maid came back from break, she would start to serve and let another know it was her time; but she always had to finish up with her current customer. That left him roughly 5 minutes where he could sneak into the back room. Plausible deniability. The one lesson Kent had learned from past ordeals. He searched around, and saw the toilet doors near the staff entrance. Perfect! Worst case scenario, he was just going to the toilets and found himself in the wrong room. He took one last look at Iris. If there was anyone to come out of retirement for, it was her.
  10. Location: Maid Cafe Her sing song-tone of "Master" rang through his head in slow motion, and he was almost hypnotised by the sway of her ass. He imagined her tied to a wooden horse, her huge chest hanging over the front, her round ass and begging to take a caning from him: "Another please, Master..."; he shook his head. This one was clearly experienced in having dirty old men under her spell, but she had no idea of the kind of man she was playing with. He continued his play at the bashful old pervert she was more used to, eying the security of this place. They seemed to be focused at the front of the shop, but he didn't doubt for a second they'd rush to tackle anyone who threatened the girls here. He was working through the motions now, a dangerous habit of his from the past. First the prize, then the means, and lastly the opportunity... and it was clear that that opportunity wouldn't be here. He took the tea thankfully, and sipped it gently as he perused the menu and tried hard to ignore her hanging breasts. Wouldn't they look great if I... The earthy smell of matcha this close to his nose grounded him, his only protection against her truly alluring scent, his only way of saving face while she was this close. A coffee was what he was here for, but what would a bashful old pervert do? Ah, of course... "I don't suppose you're on here?" he smiled, and laughed a jovial laugh. "Just a coffee for now, if you please. Strong and dark" he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "just like me" he winked, and let loose another chuckle.
  11. Location: Black City, Maid Cafe. This place was almost exactly as Kent had imagined it, a perverts paradise; though judging from the reviews this place got, he at least had some plausible deniability here. He scanned the room while he had the chance, drinking in the subservience of the maids here; clocking a red headed maid as the image of her bound and gagged flashed through her mind. He wouldn't even need a window here; they had victims for his imagination on staff. The bustle gave Kent time to consider the face he needed to put forwards here: settling on that of a temporarily embarrassed old man looking for a coffee that just so happens to be getting served by gorgeous maids. He took great pains not to lech too much while out in the open like this, concentrating on his bashful smile and effected stammer. He tried to give the impression that he was in two minds about being here, and was seconds away from bolting out the door. A thought crossed his mind that actually bolting out the door would lay some good foundations, when one of the maids took him by surprise. He turned to face her, persona at the ready. He took a second to drink in the buxom maid, his mind overwhelmed with possibilities; disjointed flashes of her in perverse situations, servicing a group of cocks, tied up and struggling to escape, covered in the cum of countless men. By the time he managed to get a grip of himself, he could see in the girls eyes that he'd been daydreaming a mite too long. Ken panicked, but it seemed she was used to this kind of behaviour. "Umm, hello there miss. I... uhh... yes I suppose I am. Would it be possible to be seated somewhere a little out of the way?" He tore his gaze away from her and fumbled with his hands, using the opportunity to try and drift back into character. He'd hoped he hadn't already given the game away.
  12. Based on the chats we had earlier, I've posted in the main thread as a sort of introduction to the scenario. Maybe you could describe the Maid cafe somewhat from Iris' perspective? As a suggestion, I'd say a sort of "day in the life" would be very helpful. Also, we talked about Kent picking an item from her possessions, so a little detail on the kind of things she keeps and where she keeps them would go a long way to getting us started.
  13. Location: Black City Residential Area Kent was enjoying an amble stroll through the sleepy suburbs of Black City on a sunny afternoon. After a long, busy morning of preparing dough and baking bread for his bakery, he liked to hand the shop over to his assistant and take a quiet stroll through the streets, making his way to a local cafe, the Toasted Bean, for an afternoon of reading the paper and watching the world go by. No one here would guess at his dark thoughts, concealed with a jovial smile and a pleasant word. These days, his mind would race to think up new ways of how he'd use the people in front of him, and the cafe was the perfect place to people watch and let his fantasies run wild. That young mother looked pretty shy, wouldn't it be fun to force her to expose herself in public? This one cared far too much about her appearance; imagine turning her into an anonymous rubber-bound whore! His mind was brimming with filth, and the last time he let loose, he was chased to Black City; with imagination his only outlet. However, turning one last sleepy boulevard, something was amiss. The Toasted Bean looked far less busy than it usually was, and as he drew closer his suspicions were proven correct. No one was behind the counter, the server was no where to be seen, and piece of A4 paper with a note was stuck to the door that had been locked tight. Dear cherished customers, the Toasted Bean is closing for a well earned break! We'll be back in... Two weeks!? How was he supposed to hold up for that long? He searched his mind for alternatives as he walked back in the direction of his bungalow. His route took him passed a couple of places, but the only places to sit and watch without suspicion were restaurants, and while that might work for a the time it took him to eat a meal, it was still a bit too short lived for him. Lost in thought, he bumped into his bus stop, and a small flyer jammed into the frame of the stop caught his eye. Demure looking women dressed in maid outfits adorned the flyer, urging the viewer to visit. He let out a small sigh. If this is what it had come to, a perverted older man visiting a maid cafe, then sobeit. Better that than ruin his reputation here. He sat and waited for the downtown express, thinking of the things he'd do to the pretty maids, given half a chance.
  14. As someone who uses EcchiText a lot for longer form RPs, it's deeply frustrating having to try and finish a reply in one go. Is there any way we could mark a message as a draft, so that the other parties can't see it until you're done tinkering?
  15. Great! In that case, how'd you feel about going forwards with Kent blackmailing Lesly to test his newfound connections to Ghost? I prefer a slow burn, so it'd probably start with anonymous, hands off demands and escalate from there. Are we free to post in the main thread, or would you prefer a side story?
  16. Yeah, while I don't have an aversion to roleplaying with teens, I'm definitely not into quite so much of an age gap as is between Kent and Amelia. I'm intrigued by both Lesly and Melody, but I'm still not entirely clear on the RP boundaries between victims and onlookers. My impression is that they're more available as a sounding board for victims than for direct interactions with a blackmailers; at least initially. As such, I'm struggling to see a foothold to begin with there. On another note, while I like the idea of RPing with Lesly, I'm concerned about overstepping a mark when it comes to your personal boundaries re:religion. In this kind of scenario, I would like to explore drawing her away from the church, perhaps even pressuring her into sacrilegious acts; and I get the impression this is very much a hard limit of yours.
  17. Hey! New to the club, and looking for interested victims. Kent is an unassuming older man who delights in treating his victims like friendly acquaintances in public, while forcing them into degrading situations in private. Looking to flesh out scenarios, either here or via PM.
  18. I prefer a darker themed roleplay when I'm dominant in a scenario. I delight in obedience, control and degradation especially. On the other hand, I love to be taken control of, used and abused. In general, I'm not a huge fan of guro. I'm fine with pain play, but I draw the line at cuts, blood and permanent disfigurement (outside of the context of body modification). Other than that, if it's not listed as a will-not-play above then I'm open to incorporating most fetishes. I really love to explore other people's fetishes in roleplay; so if you're looking for someone to experiment with, I'm the person for the job! As a side note, I love playing as/with chubbier and older characters; not so much as a focal point of a fetish, but just in general that's what I like in real life. I've found that most people have an aversion to that kind of thing in roleplay; but if you're interested and that sounds like your jam, please let me know!
  19. From the album: krakendaddy characters [black city]

    Character Identity Information Name: Kent Robinson Age: 46 Gender: Male Species: Human Occupation: Baker Role: Blackmailer Physical Appearance Height: 6'4 Weight: 284lbs Eye Color: light blue Hair Color: dark brown Physical Description: Physically very imposing, he is a tall chubby man with a hint of musculature hiding beneath the surface. While older, he has a full head of hair kept quite short, with a similarly short but well groomed beard and moustache. Personality, Traits and Abilities General Overview: Kent considers himself a pillar of the local community. He delivers baked goods to local businesses in the morning and has a kind smile and a helping hand to acquaintances and passing strangers alike. Those that know him would tell you he was a down to earth gentle giant who enjoys a simple life. His public face is a mask to his darker desires, though. His craves control and dominance over people, spiraling from a small transgression until they are nothing but puppets for his personal pleasure. Strengths, Skills and Abilities: Physical strength, from a life of toil A strong alibi, who would believe the sweet old baker could do something like that? Small talk, years of working his business allow him to play off strange situations with light banter. Crafty, works with his hands all day, an avid gardener in his youth, can turn his hands to creation. Weaknesses: Rigid lifestyle, he must be available and capable of working most mornings or his apprentice will start asking questions. Old fashioned, technology has passed him by in places. He can work a computer, but prefers text messages and the personal touch to social media. Ambitions (Hopes/Dreams): He hopes to pass more of his bakery on to his apprentice in the next few years, and focus on pastries. He longs to be recognised with the golden sieve, a lifetime achievement award for bakers. Hobbies and Interests: A gardener in his spare time, he has a vibrant garden to spruce up his cooking. He takes long walks in the evening, and has been known to fish on occasion. Personal Sexual Information Sexual Orientation: Straight Turn ons: Bondage, domination, humiliation, corruption. He loves being in control of a helpless victim. Turn offs: Blood, scat. Penis Length: 6" Sensitivity: Medium to low. Additional Sexual Information: Uncircumcised STD History: Clean, ensures his victims are as part of his research. Extra Information: House: A bungalow in a wooded area in the suburbs of the city. Car: small van with the logo of his business on the side. He drives this to work, and goes most other places by public transport. It has enough space to comfortably fit 6 people sitting in the back, though it is left empty for cargo. The only two seats are in the front. Additional information: Bakery is in town, and requires a 4am start by him or his assistant, John. History Bio: Kent is a quiet man who moved to Black City from the nearby countryside to start a bakery business in his early twenties. While part of this is driven by his ambition to become a successful baker, the truth is that he had desires that the countryside had precious little opportunity for. His first conquest as a young adult was a local farmer's wife. He would finish a day of farm work at lightning pace for an opportunity to flirt with the much older woman; who would usually fob him off as a flatterer. It wasn't until he uncovered her secret addiction to alcohol that he discovered the joy of leading a sweet lady down a path of corruption by holding power over her. Things progressed quickly: a flash of nipple, a taste of cock, screams of agony and ecstasy so deep in the woods that no one would hear. His victim eventually came clean, and his reputation was ruined. Fleeing to the city, he left his past behind him, but the feeling of power left an irresistible urge that never went away.
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