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I Didn't Think I Needed To Say It, But...
Apparently this must be said. I roleplay sexual antics and shenanigans. I write erotically charged fiction. It's just writing.
I am not your girlfriend. Writing this and replying to you does not get me aroused in real life.
Far More Details Than You'll Ever Want To Know About IsabellaRose
The chart below was fairly accurate as of November 2019, and my basic kinks haven't changed much since then.
Aurora Lascivia IX
It is the year 9999. Humans have spread across the galaxy, colonizing countless worlds, interacting with hundreds of alien species. The Galactic Federation does its best to maintain peace among its ten thousand member worlds, but with such a wide variety of lifeforms and cultures, discord is common. Expansionist policies, racial enmity, religious doctrines, control of natural resources, and dozens of other causes constantly throw various areas of the Federation into turmoil. Somewhere in the galaxy, someone is always on the brink of, in the midst of, or recovering from conflict, strife, and war.
Despite this ever-present conflict, it is still considered an era of unprecedented peace. The all-encompassing Galactic Wars are long over; the wars between the more expansionist worlds, especially between humans and several races who considered humans a plague or virus to be eradicated, have ended in peace, or at least an uneasy truce. The Galactic Federation does not exactly govern its member systems, but it is universally recognized as a body designed for the benefit of all its members, and its policies and doctrines have been adopted by all. Open warfare between member worlds is rare, members preferring instead to air their grievances in an open forum and defer to the judgment of the Federation.
The Intergalactic Police Force (IPF) is maintained by the Galactic Federation for use in civil matters and for security on the Torus Galactica, commonly referred to as The Corona, the torus-shaped space station that houses the permanent offices of the Federation. IPF Officers are generally considered to be champions of the law and incorruptible, although there are always exceptions.
The Galactic Defense Corps, the armed force of the Galactic Federation, consists of troops from every member system, and is used to defend member worlds against threats from outside the Federation, and to aid in humanitarian efforts.
Federation Ambassadors are welcomed on all member worlds and generally treated well even in non-member systems. But the most famous of all are the agents of Division 9.
Division 9 agents serve multiple purposes, and are considered ambassadors of the Galactic Federation. They are also investigators, negotiators, intermediaries, officers of the law, and advocates for the people. Division 9 agents are both respected and reviled, envied and feared. Their status in the galaxy is near mythical, and tales of their adventures and exploits serve as the basis of many popular forms of entertainment. Whenever there is a problem, the agents of Division 9 are the first ones sent in, and often the only ones needed.
Each Agent is a hybrid creature, combining traits of several galactic races with cybernetics in a bio-engineered shell that is beyond perfection. Each has their own specialty, although all are experts in multiple fields, and knowledgeable in many more. Every Agent is skilled in martial arts, as well as close combat and ranged weapons, and military tactics. Each Agent has a thorough understanding of Galactic Law as well as the laws, customs, and practices of most member worlds. Agents have generalist skills that would make them an invaluable asset to any paramilitary or police force, and each has a specialization, an area in which they outstrip even the closest rival by light years.
Agent Oskar Zor Kako II (O.Z.K. II, or Ozkii) specializes in violence. When a situation requires decisive, violent action, he is sent in.
Agent Muza Phemia IX (M. P. IX, known as Mufix) is the androgynous master of negotiation and dialog, sent into situations where words and words alone will win the day. But among the agents of Division 9, none compare to Aurora Lascivia.
Aurora Lascivia IX (A. L. IX, or Alix) is a luscious and beautiful humanoid, genetically engineered to be the most desirable woman in known space, and she certainly fits the bill. Combining the most sensual traits of several races with the knowledge and skill of the best courtesans in the galaxy, Aurora is sent on missions where only her raw sexuality can resolve the situation, which end up being far more missions than anyone could have expected.
Aurora defines flirtation with her every move, the graceful curves of her body capture the eye of any who see her. Her voice is a song of pure erotic bliss, and one look into her eyes can send many males over the edge on the spot, or so her legend says. She sees beauty in every living creature and enjoys the sensual pleasures of even the slightest touch; she is as free with her body as Ozkii is with his fists or Mufix with its words. Alix has slept her way to peace in countless systems, calmed the ire of a myriad rulers, and quenched the fires of war with naught but her body time and again.
These are her adventures.
Name: Amante Maritriza Vitima
Race: Appears human. Actually a magical construct composed of 99 different individuals merged together from species including: aasimar, amazon, andorian, angel, asari, chiss, drow, dryad, elf, erinyes, ex nihili, fae, falleen, human, korrigan, kymellian, mermaid, nagaraj, naiad, neko, nixie, nymph, orion, pixie, red martian, sakaraan, satyress, siren, succubus, sylph, tamaranian, tau, tiefling, togruta, twi'lek, vampire, werewolf, yokai, zabrak, and zeltron, among others
Height: 5' 6"
Weight: 115 lbs.
Age: Appears to be in her late teens or early 20s, actually several hundred years old
Purpose: She was created by a powerful mage to be his servant and concubine.
Skills: Amante has skills as a lover rivaled by only the most experienced and expensive courtesans and concubines.
Shape-Shifting: Amante can change her appearance to that of any of the ninety-nine original individuals from which she was created. She can change her facial features, height, and body shape as well. She has no conscious control over her shape-shifting. Her appearance only changes when it would make her more attractive to the person she is with.
Attractive Appearance: Amante is designed to appear to each person in a form to which they are most attracted.
Reciprocal Arousal: If someone near her is aroused, she becomes aroused as well. If she is the cause of this arousal, she responds to it in kind. Her own excitement increases with that of her partner, though hers will likely continue even if the partner loses theirs.
Impervious to Permanent Damage and Death: Amante cannot be maimed, killed or permanently marked. Over the past several hundred years she has been tortured, lacerated, stabbed, shot, boiled alive, impaled, drawn and quartered, skinned, beheaded, burned alive in a lava flow, dissolved in acid, had all of her internal organs removed, had her skin flayed from her body, and been disintegrated. Several hours later she awakes near where she was apparently slain as good as new without a mark on her.
Tattoos and scars are similarly impermanent for her. When she is tattooed, it disappears within several hours. Scars fade over a period of several hours.
Restrictions: Amante cannot deny a request provided it will enhance the pleasure of another. There are some exceptions, most notably that she will not cause physical harm to come to any living thing. She seems to forget sexual encounters, and always acts innocent as if she had no idea of her own past.
There was once an ancient mage, whose power was equaled only by his capacity for evil. His shadow fell across the land like a plague, and under his dominance, life was suffering. Freedom and virtue were replaced with enslavement and immorality, and the only justice was the enforcement of his whim as law. His power grew with his influence, and soon he ruled overall.
But ruling was not enough. The hunger for power drove him to summon and control beings from other worlds and dimensions: demons, angels, alien creatures from other worlds as well as those from the hidden depths of his own. His slaves and servants were as many and varied as the stars in the sky, and he used them for his own, perverse pleasure. He made the men battle each other in violent and bloody games that left few living and forced the women to please him in more and more depraved ways.
When the fighting men bored him, he used his magic to merge fifty of the most powerful and skilled combatants into a single, ultimate warrior bound to his will. He named this creature Guerreiro. It could tap into the power of fifty different warriors in an instant, the skills of the best swordsmen, the dexterity of the most nimble acrobats, the strength of the most powerful monsters, the merciless nature of demons, the natural weaponry of dozens of creatures from as many worlds. He pitted his newest slaves against the creature and watched them die horrible deaths. His creation pleased him. Little did he know that Guerreiro would be the key to his downfall.
After his success in the deathmatches, he turned his magic to his concubines. Over the centuries he had taken women from every race, from every world, as wide and varied in their looks and ability to please him as were the men he made fight. He merged them as well, ninety-nine women of various appearances, races, and capabilities, into one, perfect concubine. He named her Amante.
The individual identities that made up her being were removed; her personal dreams and desires were subverted. Now, she found pleasure in pleasing others, felt valued when being used, and found herself unable to deny any request if it pleased another. She became aroused when someone else was attracted to her; the more aroused a potential partner became, the more aroused she became.
Of course, the mage enjoyed corrupting innocence, so he imprinted Amante to remain perpetually innocent. Her memory of even the most depraved sexual acts, while technically accurate, never seemed to jade her. She remained hopeful and almost naive, and always seemed surprised when things became physical. But she also knew how to please a man, being imprinted with the skills of a dozen of the most experienced courtesans, concubines, and seductresses. Once he seduced her, once she became aroused enough to beg him to take her, her innocence was lost and she became equal in his depraved games.
This was her daily existence. She woke each morning a young, innocent woman uncertain of her surroundings. She was surprised by the attention of her paramour, shocked when he made suggestions or simply took what he wanted from her and tried to fight him off or escape, but as soon as she reached the height of arousal, she became a wild, unabashed siren.
She was wandering the grounds late one night when she found Guerreiro. She approached his cage and felt pity for the creature. Guerreiro was attracted to her, and she reciprocated, as she was designed to do. She freed him and they found comfort in each other's arms.
Over the next few weeks, she found herself drawn to Guerreiro, and visited him nightly. Although she was incapable of feeling love, their physical bond somehow grew stronger until the night that she arrived battered and bloody from a particularly rough session with the mage. Guerreiro flew into a rage, and when she freed him from his cage, he made his way to the mage's chambers.
He burst in and attacked the mage, squeezing his head in his massive hands. The mage awoke at Guerreiro's touch and cast a spell, opening a portal into which he hoped to toss his creation, but Guerreiro pulled the mage through with him as he crushed his head into a pulp. They both disappeared, never to be seen again.
Amante was heartbroken for the rest of the evening, but then the magic of her creation wiped away the emotional impact. She awoke the next morning feeling a slight sense of loss and wandered out of the castle, and into a new life.
Since then, she has traveled from land to land, always at the mercy of the need to please which is the curse of her existence.
My name is Devon Appono, but most just call me Devon. I serve mankind.
I am an unassuming human. Although I am immortal, there is no tell-tale sign that others can detect telling them that I cannot die. My presence often confounds immortals as their physical senses detect a mere human, but perceive an ancient presence.
My immortality is part of my curse. Over 5,000 years ago I made a deal with a demon to grant me the power to become the ruler of my kingdom. The power was granted, and I ruled for years, acquiring every material thing a human could want. I was worshipped among humans as a god. None dared challenge me. When the time came for me to turn over my soul in service to the demon, I tricked him, using the very power he granted me to stonewall him. Though he could not force me to serve him, he stripped me of the powers he had granted me and laid upon my soul a heavy curse.
In retribution for failing to serve the demon, I am cursed to walk the Earth for all time, serving the needs of others. I can hold no power or authority, I can wield no weapon nor make violence upon any other. I must speak only truth, and I cannot die. The body I inhabit, however, can easily die. When I am slain, my soul travels to the nearest available body and forces out the occupant, taking it for my own. The souls I force out are driven to serve the demon who cursed me. Thus, in my pride, I have sent him thousands of souls to serve rather than give my own. I have died thousands of deaths, lived thousands of lives in thousands of different bodies.
I have served the needs of others in myriad ways. I have been a tutor, an advisor, a lover, a shoulder upon which to cry, a hand up when one is down. When there is great need, when someone cannot help themselves or needs help that no other would willingly give, I am called from where ever I am to their aid.
My name is Devon Appono. I serve mankind. My immortality sends souls to their eternal suffering, and I wish for nothing more than release from the eternal torment of living.
Valeria "Nightstick" Gagliardi
Returning from a tour of duty where she saw combat serving as a Marine MP, Valeria Gagliardi, an American of Italian, German, and English descent found her old neighborhood overrun by gangs, violence, drugs, and prostitution.
She stood her ground, refused to back down, but became a target as she was setting an example. She saw the superheroes on the news, and even though she had no powers, she did have weapons and hand-to-hand combat training. She purchased armor and weapons online, and followed leads she dug up to meet a man called The Broker. The Broker worked as a go-between, connecting bot heroes and villains with weapons designers, manufacturers, and suppliers, as well as researchers who claimed to be able to create superhuman powers.
She was determined to bring justice to her crime-ridden neighborhood, and armed herself with two carbon-alloy batons (basically police batons) and wore a costume that was mostly homemade: a bodysuit under ballistic material and pieces of old military body armor.
She followed the lead of the heroes she emulated. She chose not to kill. Instead, she used her twin batons and the vambraces that protected each of her forearms as her main weapons.
One night on patrol, she broke up a major drug deal and chased down an escaping gang member. When she finally caught him, she discovered that he was carrying a bag full of cash. she took the money, vowing to only use it in her fight against crime. With new improved gear, she found herself more capable in her war on crime, so she began raiding gangs and crime families and taking their cash.
She met Doctor Hephaestus through the Broker, and he designed new weapons for her. With every new raid, she could afford more upgrades. He added a spring-loaded grappling hook launcher into each baton, as well as adding new accessories that could be deployed with a quick twist or push of a micro button. He adapted her vambraces to project a shock-absorbing shield that could stop small caliber bullets. Her body armor was streamlined, made much lighter and allowing for ease of movement and greater protection. He added vision and audio enhancements to her mask. He built a heads-up display to allow her to see maps with movement of trackers she now used, feeds from cameras and microphones could be fed directly into her line of sight or hearing. She became a one-woman crime-fighting army.
The gangs went from calling her "that chick with the nightsticks" to Nightstick, and mockingly Nightchick.
Finally she had enough to afford the genetic alterations she had convinced herself she needed to finish her crusade. Through The Broker, she was connected with Project Phoenix, a consortium of researchers of questionable moral fortitude. Using irradiated pieces of the same meteor that granted power to the mighty hero Paragon and his arch enemy, Bloodlust, they promised to grant her at least some power.
In truth, the process was still completely experimental. Project Phoenix had attempted to create over two dozen heroes, but the only ones who had survived the process were either completely insane, grotesquely mutated, or both. They did not expect success with Nightstick, but had been paid off in advance by the head of the Manzella Family, Gaetano Carini.
Carini decided he wanted to make the would-be hero who had stolen so much of his money pay for her arrogance. Once Nightstick was locked in the chamber where she would undergo the Phoenix Process, he stepped into the control room where she could see him. He promised her that she would die for stealing from him, but that first he would make her suffer. His men had altered the Phoenix Process. Nightstick would not be reborn a powerful hero, but rather have her mind altered to be a subservient slave to the will of Carini. He would have her kill her own family, all her friends, and then when he was no longer amused by her, he would have her kill herself.
Unfortunately, the scientists of Project Phoenix still wished to continue their experiments. Although they added equipment to perform the alteration of her mind, they also left the endowment process in place. When the Phoenix Process began, she writhed in pain, her head nearly exploding from the equipment designed to erase her personality. But her body was changing as well, and Carini finally noticed the meteor fragment still installed in the equipment in her chamber. He knew the scientists had betrayed him and that she would now die, that he would be denied his revenge. In a fit of anger, he shot the scientists and forced the process to maximum levels, intent on killing her as painfully as possible.
Within the chamber, Val knew she was going to die. She felt her mind and body being ripped apart at a cellular level, experienced pain of a magnitude that no human could withstand, but through it all maintained her focus on Carini, her enemy, the man she had to take down before her killed everyone she cared for.
Warning sirens blared, equipment shorted out, sparks and flames leapt into the lab and the chamber, and then there was darkness as all power failed. backup generators kicked in, emergency light flickered on, and Carini and his men saw her body slumped in the experiment chamber. He forced the door open before the smoke and radiation could be cleared, hefted debris out of his way to get to her limp form and look in her dead eyes, to verify beyond a shadow of a doubt that this insignificant worm was dead.
When he grabbed her roughly by the chin and lifted her head, she opened her eyes and hurled him across the room like a rag doll. She moved faster than before, was stronger than before, and when Carini's men recovered from the shock of seeing her toss a man like he weighed nothing and opened fire on her, found out that bullets didn't seem to penetrate her skin. They hurt like hell, but they didn't seem to kill her.
Her head was foggy, her direction unclear. She didn't know who she was, where she was, or why these men wanted to hurt her, so she did the only thing that made sense. She ran.
Without a destination, she moved by instinct and found her way to her apartment. She knew it was hers, it must be. It felt right. But the girl in all the pictures with her family and friends didn't look like the face she saw in the mirror. Nothing seemed right. She went to the closet and found her Nightstick costume. This was her place, but she had been changed. Everything was different now. The costume didn't fit right. The batons felt wrong in her hands.
She remembered The Broker and paid him a visit, found her way back to Doctor Hephaestus, who altered her costume and gave her some new equipment he had been working on for her. He also suggested she have herself examined.
She spent weeks hiding as she tried to remember what she was like before, who she had been, why she fought, and what had happened to her. She tested heself daily. She found that she had superhuman strength, durability, endurance, and agility. Everything seemed to work better than before, except her mind. She knew her mission, defeat the crime families, but she didn't know why it was her mission, or who gave her the orders to stop them.
But the more she thought about it, did it matter? She was a soldier, she had orders. She would stop them.
Nightstick donned her costume and mask, strapped on her weapons and gear, and headed out into the night to fight crime, to stop evil, and to find out who gave her this mission.
Her costume is all black and covers most of her body, but is assembled in pieces instead of one big unitard kind of thing. It's not very revealing, but is very form fitting and hugs her curves, moreso since Doctor Hephaestus updated it most recently.
She carries two modified batons as weapons.
She is stronger than normal humans, perhaps similar in strength to Captain America.
She has inhuman endurance and can run, fight, swim, etc. for significant amounts of time without breaking a sweat.
small caliber bullets do not penetrate her skin, but she does feel them like she's being punched, and in some places she bruises from them. She is uncertain just how invulnerable her skin actually is.
She is more flexible and agile than before, and can now perform complex acrobatic stunts that she previously had trouble with.
There is something wrong with her mind. Memories are not all there, and there is this uncertainty and need to follow orders. She thinks it's her military training, but it's actually the partial imprint of a mind control protocol that was not completed. She may be susceptible to command words, signals, or whatever Carini used to program her, or not.
She is still only human and has normal human weaknesses except as specified above.
A former Miss Teen Pick-a-State whose parents were her managers. They divorced, her father ran off with one of her competitors in the Miss Teen competition and her mother developed an alcohol problem. She tried for Miss Teen USA, then Miss USA once she turned 18, but didn't win either time. Now 19, modeling gigs have become increasingly slim due to her terrible manager, and money's tight. When her mother checks into a court-ordered rehab, the young model is left on her own and makes some bad choices, investing poorly, loosing almost all her money, and ending up on the casting couch of a porn director, her need for cash outweighing her morals as she is convinced to perform increasingly lewd and degrading acts on video. The story would start on the casting couch, the young girl expecting a standard modeling gig, but letting her guard down and eventually her panties. How far will she go in this new profession?
The Ice Queen
Elizabeth is a beautiful, blonde, executive in her early 30s. She is an efficiency expert, brought on to a company as CEO to cut expenses (i.e.: jobs) and make the organization profitable, all while making a healthy salary for herself. She has been nicknamed "The Ice Queen" due to her seeming lack of empathy towards the working class as she slashes jobs and fills unemployment lines, and her cold-hearted shut down of any man who attempts to win her heart. In her most recent position, she has eliminated over 300 jobs. Countless appeals by the men and women losing jobs have fallen on deaf ears. Since they can't seem to melt her frozen heart, some newly laid off workers decide to warm her body instead.
This idea could be anything from a nc gangbang in a parking garage to an extensively planned scenario where Elizabeth is cornered in the executive conference room and forced to satisfy every laid off worker, paraded from one department to another, used by the executives, middle managers, office workers, assembly line workers, janitorial staff, loading dock workers, delivery drivers, etc. until everyone has had some form of compensation.
Fall of an Empire
Empress Elena Sophia happens to have ascended to the Imperial throne at the worst possible time in the history of the Empire. Having expanded exponentially during the reign of her grandfather, the Empire experienced growing pains and began to lose its wars of expansion near the end of his rule. Rebellion and war with neighboring kingdoms caused the Empire to shrink during the reign of her father, who was assassinated when she was 14. With little practical knowledge, but the certainty that her bloodline made her infallible, the young Empress made countless tactical errors, losing more and more men and lands. It has been three years, and between rebellions, invading kingdoms, and the frustration of her own generals, advisors, and nobility, the young Empress' rule is at an end. The ememy is at the gates, the rebels call for her abdication, and the nobles, generals and advisors want to seize power for themselves. What chance does a 17-year-old Empress have against so many formidable men?
I can see this going many ways. Perhaps her generals, advisors and the nobility wish to marry the young Empress and breed her, mixing their own blood with that of the Imperial line and cementing a position of power. Perhaps the rebels want her dethroned and want to treat her to the life she has left so many of their own women, the life of a harlot, surviving by her ability to please men. Perhaps the invading armies will take her as a prize, passing her around to their generals and heroes. Perhaps a combination of these factors, or something entirely new will happen.
Her Last Command
A fifth generation biod (bio-engineered human), Katherine Montgomery's genetic code has been engineered and refined to the point that she is the epitome of human intelligence, agility, strength, endurance, and beauty. At 35, she is the youngest woman ever to attain the rank of Admiral in the Imperial Navy. She has proven herself countless times, in combat, rescue operations, negotiations with hostile aliens, diplomatic missions, exploration of new systems, and discovery of untapped resources. Promoted to a position that is associated with a desk job and remote command, Admiral Montgomery demanded that she remain in the field where she can be most useful. Now she leads a taskforce of seventeen warships from her command cruiser, HIHS Invincible, on a mission to squash a growing rebellion in an outlying sector. But elements within the Empire want to wrest control from the biods and return engineered humans to their previous status as second-class citizens without rights. Little does the Admiral know that her mission is a setup. Taking out the hero of the Empire has become a priority for the dissidents, and Admiral Montgomery has just been sent into a confrontation that she cannot win, a battle against superior forces armed with the codes to disable the weapons and defenses of her entire fleet. Even if she manages to escape, the location of her rally point has been leaked to pirates and slavers.
Acting Prime Minister
Deputy Prime Minister Alina Loveless never expected her predecessor and friend, Prime Minister Martin Toliver to be assassinated. She was certain the popular leader would be reelected to serve at least two if not three terms before she would ever have a hope of running for the position herself. But now she finds herself sworn into office as the new Prime Minister, and the political mechanations whirling around her have her head spinning. Someone wanted her friend dead, and that same someone has uncovered Alina's darkest secret, the one thing she knows will destroy her political career forever: her uncontrollable sex addiction and hunger for multiple partners at the same time. Although she hasn't indulged her cravings since her divorce, they're still there, and now someone wants to satisfy her desires for their own reasons.
Ice Age Steampunk Western
Natives Inuits living in nomadic towns of igloos dotting the frozen wastelands, living off the land as they have for thousands of years, hunting caribou, yak, whales and fantastical creatures, forced to deal with the encroachment of steam-powered, mechanical horse-riding cowboys.
Several "civilized" countries establishing colonies and outposts in the frozen frontier. There is no gasoline, only steam and electrik power. Airships and steam trains carrying settlers across the frozen wastelands as they try find the water they need to survive drought in their homeland and the latest ice age to descend upon them. Bands of native warriors riding polar bears or larger than normal snow leopards.
And in the middle of it all, the daughter of a wealthy railroad baron, his lava rails the technology that will revolutionize the transport of ice back to the drought-suffering southlands, stuck in her fathers crystal palace of ice and steel, yearning for the freedom to be herself, but trapped in a town full of impoverished settlers and refugees who despise her wealth and upbringing, natives that want to stop her father from encroaching on their land, and rival companies and industrial spies who will stop at nothing to get their hands on her fathers' technology.
I have more notes on this world somewhere...
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