I really did try to have alliteration till the end.
Or maybe I didn't try that hard....
NO MATTER. WE MOVE ON
Hi! I have listed a few ideas that I'm interested in RPing, to allow others to have a sense of what I'm really interested in.
Of course, I'm open to most things, and feel free to message me with any ideas that we can work out!
The Empty Throne
"Down with the tyrant! Down with the Evil Queen!" I hear the roars of the victorious soldiers all about me. Commoners dressed in drips and drabs of what you call armor. Made out of various beast hides. It is difficult to believe that such terrible equipment have bested my soldiers. My soldiers that had been cloaked in steel. Their blood stains your people's armor.
The smell of smoke and blood is thick in the air. The windows of the audience chamber have all shattered. A shame. I did truly enjoy looking at them whilst listening to those sly foxes whisper terrible suggestions to me. No matter, I will no longer have a chance to look at them any longer.
I kneel before you, my arms bound behind me, the ropes digging into my skin. My crown still remains on my head, ironically. No one has removed it yet. I assume it means I have not yet, truly fallen. And so, I hold my head high. I cannot let the crown slip from my head. Its weight strains my neck, though I refuse to acknowledge the discomfort that comes in waves.
There is a stinging pain by my neck, where your blade meets as it rests on my shoulders. You look down at me, lips curved into a cruel smile that does not reach your eyes. "Down with the Evil Queen." You repeat the chants of your army, spitting those words at me. A reminder of my popularity, or rather, the lack thereof.
I mimic your insincere smile. I shan't let you see the fear, nor the disbelief of my defeat. These fools who could not see past what everything really was. Who I really was. My hands clench into fists behind my back and I straighten up further. Your sword trails the outline of my neck, shifting from my shoulder to my chin as you prop up my head further.
My crown slips down but is caught by my tangled hair. It tugs and I wince, neither of us giving way. You reach to roughly grab my chin, hoisting me to my feet. I stumble, my legs numb and collapsing under my own weight. You pull me back up with no gentleness.
"Shan't we arrange a parade for Her Royal Majesty?" That title has never sounded so piercing by my ears. I hold back tears as you tug me forth, shoving me into a cage certainly not meant for humans. The audience chamber door opens, and I am flooded by the roars of elated people. My people who had decided I was no longer worthy of the throne.
"There isn't much use for you, but I suppose you would be good enough to warm my bed." You lean down and hiss by my ear. I shudder, unable to respond. There is nothing left, no more cards up my sleeve. I can only resign myself to fate.
[Humiliation/ Bondage/ Spanking/ Degradation/ Non-con/ Dub-con/ Rough Sex]
[If anyone's interested in a non erp ver of any plot, feel free to lmk as well!]
The Drunken Duck
"Young missy, you'd do well to heed my advice." Just as I walk out of the Adventurer's Guild, my freshly printed identity card still between my hands, an old woman beckons me forth. "Do not venture out to the Fourth Avenue when the Sun is down. You will be eaten alive." She croons.
I scoff, running my fingers through my hair. What sort of monster could there be in such a town. Still, it was kind of the old lady to bother giving me such advice. "I'll take that into consideration." I nod, trying to seem as if I was listening. However, another source of information clouds my judgement.
I hear, that down the Fourth Avenue, there is a bar called the Drunken Duck, where the most influential people of the night gather. With enough coins, nothing is a secret.
I reach into my pockets, pulling out a freshly plucked job request from the bulletin board. A missing persons poster. Where else but that bar would be the best place to ask for information?
Waiting till sundown, I grab a long cloak and hide myself beneath it, making my way to the bar.
I hear to noise before I even get close. The sound of drunkards yelling insults at each other, furniture being smashed. For a moment, I question if this is truly a good idea. Steeling myself, I push the door and step in.
Perhaps it was my illusion, but the bar seemed to quiet down ever so slightly upon my arrival. Countless heads turn, and I notice a few smirks appearing on some men's faces. Some are too smitten with their female companions to notice. Companions who had far too little cloth on them to be called clothes. I watched for a bit as their hands wandered about, placing their lips to another's ear, whispering.
Pushing my way through, I hear some whistles thrown my way.
"Show us what's beneath the cloak missy!" One man shouts at me, and a couple cackle at his comment.
I bear the brunt of the insults and lewd jokes thrown my way, making my way to the counter where I take a seat. Another man slides up next to me, placing a greasy arm around my shoulder. I try to shrug him off, but his arm barely budges.
"New here, missy?" He asks, even though he doesn't seem like he is waiting for an answer. And so, I do not give him one. He is unaffected by my lack of reply, sliding me a full cup of beer. I stare at it, no intention at all to drink it. "On the house. Just for new customers." He continues, pushing the cup closer. It is clear he is trying to make me drink it. And it would not benefit me to anger them without having gained any intel.
I pick up the cup and drain it in one shot, bearing the bitter taste that fills my mouth, and the fire that shoots down my throat. The men all roar in approval, sliding another glass to me. I try to stand up, and they don't stop me. My body feels hot, and my legs suddenly weak. I can barely take a step before I collapse onto the floor. My mind slowly, slowly becomes muddles.
All I can pay attention to is how the air is suddenly alot hotter, and the throbbing of my heart. In the exact same rhythm, I feel the throbbing of my clit, the emptiness between my legs.
A hand reaches towards me, cooling my skin...
[Bondage/ Aphrodisiac/ Non-con/ Gangbang/ Humiliation/ Rough Sex]
An Office Affair
The door to my office clicks shut and I immediately let out a sigh of relief. I eye you walk from my office back to your desk, taking your time as if to taunt me. But I doubt you know how often I eye you walking about, in that much too tight shirt of yours. How I strip you with my eyes, and imagine unspoken things done to me, by you.
My hands hastily reach to unzip my skirt, kicking them aside such that I can spread my legs for easy access. My fingers trails linger around my clit, teasing the organ and feeling it swell to life. I purposely let my fingers graze past it, through the fabric of my panties, letting out a shaky breath as I hold back any moans. Another hand creeps down as well, touching the crevice between my legs.
It's already wet. Probably when you were talking to me, leaning over my desk as you tried to point to something on the document you had handed me. My fingers slip in without much objection, my greedy flesh swallowing my fingers immediately. I slump over my desk to make it easier for myself.
One finger isn't enough. Soon, I add another, and another, till I'm positive there can be no more added. And I thrust them into me, pretending it is you who does it to me. My other hand tortures my clit with slow, teasing strokes, before flicking it. In a moment of pleasure, I lose myself and cry out.
A knock on my door brings my actions to a halt. I hold my breath, waiting for the person on the other side to speak.
"Are you okay? I heard something." You ask, and I hesitate. How I would love to let you enter and let you witness me doing such naughty things to myself. But I cannot. I must not.
"I'm fine. I'm busy at the moment, so do you reckon you could come back another time?" I clear my throat and dismiss you. As if to make things more difficult for myself, my hands start moving again. I bite down hard on my lip to swallow any sounds that might escape between them. I do not hear a follow up and assume you have left. Still, I cannot be all too certain, until I hear the click of my door closing.
My body bounces up and I meet your eyes. You raise an eyebrow, shrugging at my direction, demanding explanation. I do not know any way I can explain this. My neatly tied bun has exploded, strands of hair everywhere. Some even stuck to my forehead which is beaded in sweat. My skirt has been carelessly tossed onto the floor next to me, where you've surely noticed it.
And my fingers... God, my fingers.
"You don't look very fine." I hear the click of the lock and you take your time coming towards me. Picking up my skirt from the floor, you throw it behind you. Placing your hands on both sides of my chair, you trap me in my very position. I look up at you, not knowing what to expect, not knowing what you will do.
But one can only hope.
Will be updated as I think of more!
Feel free to hit me up with any ideas if you have any!