Looking to restart or rework an old story! (F/f, Ex, High Para)

Started by Cream, January 24, 2011, 05:36:05 PM

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Cream

I had a story, or rather my character in it, that ended up dying out.  The other writer has disappeared off of the face of the earth (Both IM and E), so I decided that I would simply attempt to start with someone new.  I am looking to either continue the story from where we left off, with modifications where need, or completely rework it with the same general plot.  We only got 8 post in, so it's still very new.

The general idea of the story is this.  My character is an extremely reserved, shy and social awkward high school librarian.  She is meek to no end.  The original story is that she gets tricked into going to a bar, where she is captivated by the outgoing, flirtatious, and beautiful bartender.  The Bartender seems to pay a lot of attention to my character, to a point where even if she is flirting with about everyone at the bar...It's made clear it's serious with Emma(My character.)  Before Emma leaves, quite intoxicated, she is given a phone number.  She is far too shy to text or call the girl, but after eight days...She is still obsessed.  She text the girl, and they arrange a date.

You'll likely be rereading parts of that, if you choose to read the introductory post I will be putting in here.  Now that is the original background of the story, and the other character.  I will gladly change it for my partner, if they so wish.  But where things get a bit tricky, is once the relationship turns sexual.

My character is incredibly nervous and self conscious about her sexuality, and about sex in general.  The natural order of things would be that Emma would be a hardcore submissive, and that is what your character will anticipate...But once it begins, she quickly realizes she is wrong.  Emma turns out to be a bold, almost frightening Dominate and Sadist.  She toys with the other girl until no end, using her like some sort of sexual experiment...But after the initial shock and fear, your character will realize how much she likes it.  However, outside of sexual elements...My character is the same shy, meek Librarian she always was.  The dual relationship and seeming dual personality is where much of the tension, and future story would come into play.

About what I am looking for?  There are only a few definites.  You need to be able to dedicate time to this story.  That does not mean instant post, or even daily...it just means that you can get a post off every 1-3 days.  The other major requirement, is the length I enjoy writing in.  Where as I realize at times my post can be monstrous, and do not expect EVERY post you make to match...I do want at least one full word page per post.  My preference is 1-2 pages, which can get much higher if the story calls for it, and I must admit I tend to lose interest if the other player consistently underwrites me.  Every now and then, its fine.  Take a look at my previous post, though you do not have to read them if you do not want, just so you get an understanding of where I am usually at.

And now for the intro post.  My first post in ANY RP is always a monster.  It is because that is how I write my character, get myself into their head, and how I get myself situated into the story.  I DO NOT write at this level frequently, if -ever-, with a couple of my stories being exceptions.  As I said...I am usually 1-2 pages.

One more thing...If you are interested, please send me a PM and DO NOT post here, it's a pet peeve.

Anyhow, here is Emmas first post.  It...Is a bit self indulgent on my end, so reading is purely optional.  If you'd rather craft something unique to us, that'd be fine to :)


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She came at me with some sort of reckless abandon.  She made it clear from the get go that she was not the type of girl to pussyfoot around.  She seemed to be the exact opposite of me, the type of person who would make me fall deeper into myself and be completely shelled off from the rest of the world until she just left me alone.  If I had been paying anything else attention but her, then I would have noticed the look on my Co-Workers faces when they saw the girl relentlessly flirt with me.  It was like she had some sort of eye, and she picked up on my shy nature…And horrible little secret…And decided to get her offs on me tonight.  Perhaps she realized that it was the best way for her to make money.

I had been questioning myself from the get go that night, that’s what made it worse.  I have never went out with my coworkers, always making up convenient little excuses as to why I was too busy to involve myself with them.  But they mercilessly scouted me…It was as though I was some sort of prize to be had, if only you could get me to agree to going out, you would win a bet.  I still think someone made off big that night.  It was my own mistake though.  I had been bragging about how I was going to an Autograph signing that night for one of my favorite “Authors”, though in all honesty it was a fetish model.  Everyone in the faculty knew it, I probably told them all three times.  Do you realize how embarrassing it is to tell someone a story with a rarely exuberant expression, and see the look on their face when they realized they’d have to feign interest for the third or fourth time?

Friday came and I was breaking the rules, checking personal sites on my computer just to make sure that the signing was still going on.  My heart sank when I read that she was sick, and not going to be able to attend the affair…The first person who came by was the Eleventh Grade English Teacher, one of the few people in the school I actually thought to be a friend.  I spilled my guts to him, told him how distraught I was I wasn’t going to be able to attend.  He offered me an olive branch, though it may as well have been a eagles claw full of arrows, when he told me that the bunch was going out to a Pub tonight, and that I was more than welcome to come.  My excuse had been sabotaged by no one other than myself; he won, I agreed to go.

I was just entranced with her.  To this day I do not know what it was.  I was always a big fan of Disney movies, the idea of Love at first Sight was my little wet dream.  But I did not fall in love with this girl…God if I had it would have been much easier.  I would have been jealous and embittered by the fact that she flirted with half of the bar the same way she did me, but instead I was just intrigued.  She had just…This air of confidence about her, sarcasm and wit dripping from every word and leaving everyone feeling disarmed, yet pleased at the notion.  I had to seem like such a sap, too…I think I told her I was sorry at least ten times that night.  But she did her job, didn’t she?  By the end of the night I was drunk, something I’d only done a handful of times in my twenty five year life, and when my friends told me they were going to leave at twelve twenty three, I was slightly heart broken.

It took me a week to do it, because of how obvious it was I looked broken.  She came over when she offered the bill, slid it my way.  My friends had all went to the bathroom before they left, so I was the only one there.  She had done nothing but talk all night, but when she slid me that bill, she just gave me a certain little smile that had me all sorts of questioning.  I opened it up, and on top of how much we owed, there was a single bar napkin with ten digits upon it.  My friends came back and it had already been hidden in my purse, but they asked me why I seemed so giddy.



Those eight days were torture for me.  My only relief was working.  Helping the students who only liked me because I was the kindest of the four other Librarians.  As long as they were not looking up anything above PG rated sites, I did not stop them from enjoying themselves.  I was honestly just too meager to tell them they weren’t allowed to be on WWEs website, because every time I got yelled at I had to take a five minute breather after so I wouldn’t break down in tears.  But outside of those eight or so hours?  I was a mess.  The napkin was set upon the table beside my arm rest Chaise that I spent most of my nights in.  I couldn’t read for EIGHT FUCKING DAYS!  All I could do was distract myself with the television, and look down at that number.  The cell phone was right beside it, and I constantly willed myself to text her.

Finally, I had enough, and I did.

“How are you?  It’s Emma, I doubt you remember me…You gave me your number at the bar eight days ago, I was the one drinking Riesling all night?”

I hated myself the instant after I sent it.  The five words had been okay…Then the next five showed I was nervous, the ones after that showed I remembered the event with intimate detail.  I knew for a fact I wouldn’t get a response.

Ten minutes later, and two glasses of wine, I did.  My heart literally fell in upon itself, then exploded, and once again collapsed as I took up my phone, and saw it was her name on the screen.  I had to will myself into reading it.  Why am I so fucking nervous?

But she just talked to me.  If she had noticed how insecure I was she didn’t mention it.  We texted eachother for an hour or so before I went to bed, and had arranged to meet eachother the next weekend.  She had ended the conversation with “It’s a date, sleep well”…And I slept perfectly content, because even if I thought that she was just using a common expression, I pictured it as an actual date.

The Saturday night that we had met, I think I was more nervous than I have ever been in my entire life.  I didn’t know how to dress, I didn’t now how to act, I didn’t know how to show up, or when…I didn’t know anything.  It was my first date with someone I actually…The word was the worst part…Wanted, in my entire life.  I tried to talk myself into being “Slick”(Even I realized that the word was outdated by as many years as I’ve been alive), but realized I’d end up stuttering in embarrassment just trying.  So on our first date, what girl was I?

I showed up twenty minutes before I was supposed to.  It was a simple meeting at a local Applebees.  I got us a booth and warned the Waitress that I was early.  I told her it shouldn’t be more then ten minutes before she arrived….I was wrong.  I was twenty minutes early, she was ten minutes late.  But when she showed up at 8:10?  I could not have been more exuberant.  Well that’s a fucking lie, she seemed to have a PHD in making me feel like that.  I was just happy I was wrong, and I hadn’t been blown off.

The affair went swimmingly.  I was nervous and idiotic, she wasn’t bothered.  She lead the conversation, she took away my embarrassment at not talking by doing it all herself.  She was…She was perfect.

But she did not hit on me that night.

That was the first of five.  The second was close to the first;  except I noticed that she was flirting a lot more.  The third changed the dynamic.  The third was the first “Real date” I have ever been on.  Her eluding to more than eating dinner, her complimenting me relentlessly, me ducking my head into my shoulder to hide my blushing, her brushing away the hair from my cheek and telling me that I should not hide such a beautiful face.

The fourth?   By god, the fourth.  My lucky number had always been thirteen, but that night it became four.  That sheer brashness I had seen the first night, the relentless assault of flirting came back.  She made me swoon with every word, she made me as silent as I have ever been, and I really think that she kept me to no more then 10 words in two hours.  She also used her talents as a Bartender, and got me a bit liquored up…But god did she know her craft.  By the time I left she was ordering me non alcoholic drinks, knowing I wouldn’t know the difference, and had me sober enough to have less than typical inhibitions, but more than enough sense to not regret it.

She kissed me.  It was at the door to my Apartment.  I had not had any intent on letting her into my building.  But when I opened the door she caught it, I looked back…And I think that other parts of me were doing the thinking, other than my brain.  That could have been our first time, that night…But it wasn’t.  We got to my door, I turned to her and smiled.  I was going to say something like ‘Well, goodnight’, but she stole the chance.  She took me by the back of my hair, and her lips met mine.

It was perfect.

The fifth date, I seemed to be a bit more outgoing.  It was a week later…Which was odd, because our first four dates had happened within 12 days.  But I knew I needed to think.  And what did she do this time?  She was a fucking player, or at least didn’t realize how much so she was, because this time my heart, and other parts, were swooning…And she was just charming as all hell, when I wanted her to be seductive.


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“Date six.  What the fuck.”

Very few people had ever heard her curse.  It was something she almost exclusively did within the confines of her own home…Within her sanctum, the only place that she felt truly safe.  She only let those who she knew would not judge her within those walls.  And thus far, in the year and one semester she had lived there?  Short of maintenance and people coming in to install her cable and internet, the only living being who had stepped foot onto her threshold was the Cat that she had bought herself with her modest tax income.  He was sitting on the bed behind her, An orange Persian, licking his paws and seeming utterly indifferent to her.

“Do you think I look slutty in this, Yugi?” She looked over her shoulder at him, he had looked up at her when he heard his name, but quickly went right back to licking his paws. “Always so insightful, aren’t you?”  Her gaze returned to the mirror in front of her, towards what she wore.

One through five she had dressed as she usually did.  Skirts and blouses, business attire.  Thing she wore to work.  She had not dipped into the part of her closet which seemed to be forgotten.  Towards the things that could be called “Sexy”.  Tonight, she chose to break that trend.  She had had the dress dry cleaned, even though a simple run in the wash would have been much cheaper.  It was honestly nothing more than an overpriced little black dress…But it just looked so foreign on her.  The lowcut V-neck showed cleavage, as well as the two tattoos upon her shoulders that next to no one had seen.  It was three quarters thigh length, displaying legs that most would gawk at…And that was the problem, most would gawk at her in something like this.

Did Emma ever doubt her own personal beauty?  Not for a second.  If she had, she would have likely become just another overweight librarian, enjoying her cookies and ice cream every night while she watched lifetime movie network…But her insecurities made that impossible, she did Yoga for two hours a night to ensure that every inch was perfect, that the 5’11 frame could easily end up in Fetish Magazines.  She admired those women….She aspired to look like them, but this dress was one of the rare times that she would put that vigorous work out ethic on display.

She gave a heavy sigh and shook her head, turning around and speaking to her Cat as she walked towards the dresser.

“I dunno, Baby,  I think it might be too much.  But maybe now me and her can be on equal grounds for once.” There was another mirror above the dresser, she looked up at it and finally let her shoulder length, embarrassingly high priced hair cut down.  It was almost idiotic how much she paid to have a hair cut that made her resemble someone on TV…Only to keep it up nine tenths of the time. 

But she was satisfied.  Confident, if only in the way she looked.  Right now that was all she could hope for.

She left the house ten minutes later.  She typically drove herself, but the last two dates had taught her that driving there often meant risking a DUI on the way home….She hailed a Taxi, and told the driver to take her to one of the more trendy bars in town.  It was the first time that the two would meet somewhere that was not a simple restaurant…She would not much look out of place dressed like this there, it was the only reason she had the gull to do it.

“We’re here, Ma’am” She looked up into the mirror that the man was looking at her through.  His eyes were not on her face, it made her swell up with nervousness.  Perhaps that was the reason she gave him a twenty for an eleven dollar fair and told him to keep the change before shutting the door; any more contact with him and she would be sweating, and all sorts of a mess by the time that she got into the Bar. 

Once she got inside she found a booth off in a corner…Horribly surprised one of the four best places were open at all…And she took a seat on one side.  The Waitress came over almost instantly, smiling down to her as she appraised Emmas wardrobe, shrugging a bit as she spoke.

“Oh wow, I imagine that he will be absolutely delighted at the site of you, sweetheart.  What can I get you?”

Oddly enough, what the woman said…Even if it was wrong in one key part…Left Emma feeling entirely satisfied.  The look that the Waitress had offered was not one of lust; if anything, it appeared to be admiration.  Emma just lit up, gave some sort of beautiful smile and gave her response.

“Tonight, I think I should start off with a shot of Brandy, and a glass of Riesling to wash it down.  And please…Give me the best that you have, I want to at least stomach the taste.”

Hadn’t someone seemed to grow incredibly bold all at once?
Fighting for a revolution of thought.

Discord: Cream.E#8738

Cream

Fighting for a revolution of thought.

Discord: Cream.E#8738