Pyana's Bag of Subby Delights

[Pyana]

Taken

To the eye of the stranger, Lady Marina of the Habsburg and Aragon line was the epitome of Spanish royalty. Second cousin of the Queen, she had lived in the palace her entire life. The King, thoroughly impressed by her gracefulness, strong sense of decorum, and impeccable social graces, assured her a royal marriage. At the age of sixteen, she was summoned into the King's presence. She came certain she would learn of her future, and indeed she did. Though her face remained pleasant and submissive throughout the short interview, she turned cold with rage. How dare he? After the promise he had granted her to find her a royal marriage, THIS is what he delivered? A notoriously depraved young king of a tiny, insignificant country in the east of Europe? Lady Marina had learned since she was a toddler that she was born to rule. Instructed in the wiles of court life by her mother, she had seen herself on the thrones of France, of Germany, of England, even of Spain itself. She strode to her rooms, ignoring the startled looks from passing servants who were not used to the Lady Ginny's normally pleasant face being so dark.

After a fit of sobbing in her mother's arms, and a lecture from the noble lady to not let this minor setback distract her from her dreams of ruling her own nation, she began preparing for her future. It would be another year before the final arrangements were made, the contracts signed, and she was delivered to her husband to be's waiting arms. She had at least that long to begin planning and learning how to usurp her husband and gain control of the throne. If it meant his death, so be it. She would rule on her own, and when she had achieve that she would expand that little country with military conquest. Lying in her bed that night between silken sheets, she smiled up at the ceiling. They would call her Queen Marina the Great.


Marina is a conniving girl, raised by her mother to ignore love and lust, and focus purely on political gain. All she wants is the throne to herself - any way she can get it. Whether this turns into a love story or whether her husband forces her into submission or even ends up having the plotting girl beheaded - this should be fun times. The fact she thinks he is depraved does not necessarily mean he IS - it is just the rumor going about Europe. You play your character however you like. Also - this can be changed to more of a fantasy setting - but with the same plotline

[Pyana]

Taken

Dark City

In 2254, the country of Amir that consisted of most of the former United States of America, gave up on their teeming prison population. They took the island of Manhattan, mostly empty and devestated by civil war, and turned it into a massive prison. There were no guards. There were no cells. There was only prisoners, turned loose to live or die. It was a hellhole, brutality reigned supreme. Water was kept running from the mainland, food drops happened at random intervals through the day in random places in the city. Along with those food drops were other completely random items donated by business and private individuals to get a tax write-off. Everything from stuffed teddy bears to fire works to guns to sex toys. Clothes, books, matches, candles, oil lamps, all sorts of random items arrived in these drops. There was no electricity. All bridges were destroyed and the water between the island and the mainland was ripe with deadly creatures and roving patrols of armed guards who shot anyone in the water on sight. People remembered the grainy video shot by one such patrol, a woman running naked and bleeding out on the wharf, screaming as a pack of rabid men ran behind her. She had jumped in the water to escape them, and no sooner had her toe hit the water then she was torn to bits by hundreds of bullets. No one had ever escaped the island.

Some turned to gangs, powerful gangs who laid claim to wide swaths of the city, claiming all drops in it and slaughtering anyone not in the gang. Others struggled by on their own, getting lucky periodically with drops by reaching them before the gangs. The government estimated the current population to be at eleven thousand, in a city meant for well over a million. There were other drops too, of course. Prisoners dropped off in groups at random places, to give them a better chance of survival. They kept the groups small, no more than five prisoners per group. The government estimated that one prisoner out of each group of five would last a year. No prisoners were ever picked up. Once you were sent to Manhattan, you never came back.

It was a horrible accident. Barely eighteen, Summer Hinson had been drinking. Not a lot, but enough to make her tipsy. It was summer, she had just graduated school, and was out having a good time with her friends. She never saw the old man. She was laughing at something one of her friends said, she heard one of them scream, and then there was a terrible crunching sound as she ran over the half crippled old man, killing him instantly. Of course she felt horrible. She had lain in that jail cell wanting to die, knowing she should have died instead of him. But her obvious repentance had no affect on the judge, who sentenced her to life in Manhattan. Her mother fainted, her father cried. They held her funeral before she had even been shipped off.

There was a lot of discussion in the news. Manhattan was a place for hardened criminals, not a young girl who had never had a brush with the law except for this terrible mistake. Even the dead man's family hesitated at her punishment. But the law was the law, and did not allow for appeal. Protesters lined up outside the walls of the local jail as the helicopter flew in that would take her to her sentence. But there was no mercy in the hard faces of the men who dragged her screaming out of her cell. They handcuffed her, threw her into the helicopter. She was the only prisoner on the transport. She had been given a backpack with one change of clothes, two liters of water, and one weeks worth of food. Her heart froze in fear when she saw that dark city loom in sight, the helicopter choosing an empty rooftop and hovering a foot over it as the two guards shoved her out. She fell hard, tearing the knees of her jeans and the side of her pink tank top before jumping up and screaming, begging them to take her back. The helicopter flew off, leaving her alone and terrified.

[Pyana]

Currently Craving Protection

I am craving a protection/ownership themed RP. Like...SERIOUSLY craving. A man decides he owns a girl - regardless of hers or anyone else's thoughts on the matter. Because she is his now, he not only has to train her to be his but he has to protect her from herself and others who are seeking to harm her. A few ideas I have are listed here, though I am more than willing to hear more. Normally I present far more detailed ideas, but here you go anyway!

[Pyana]

Taken

The Game is simple enough. Well known in select BDSM circles. One girl. Five doms. Two hunters. Once a year on a large, heavily forested private south pacific island with seven houses, all stocked with food and necessities. The island is 15 miles square. Hunters are dropped on one end. Doms are dropped on another. And in the middle, one very beautiful, very young, very frightened, very clueless girl who has been targeted as a strong natural submissive.

The object of the game - win the girl by killing the other doms and keeping her alive.

The problems: The hunters will try to kill the girl. The other doms will try to steal her and kill you. The girl is trying to get away. Hunters are paid a $25,000 prize if they kill the girl. Doms pay $10,000 apiece to play. The players are never targeted by the hunters, but accidents DO happen sometimes. This year, you are playing. The flat white sands of the southern beach are an offlimits area for whoever has the girl. Step on it before the other doms are dead or surrendered and you are shot and the girl forced back into the forest. Doms can surrender on the beach and be safely removed from the island - and their surrenders are announced to all other contestants. Are you strong enough to win the girl?

At sixteen, Allison Spaden is the youngest target ever chosen. But she was utterly irresistable. A shy, gorgeous orphan girl who came in front of a judge who was part of the secret organization that held this annual event. She had put out the eye of her foster father who had tried to rape her and run away, only to be quickly recaptured by an alert police officer. The judge ordered her to juvie where she endured an exam that confirmed she was a virgin, another emotional exam that confirmed she was a natural submissive (if quite a fiesty one!) and two days later she was handcuffed and blindfolded and thrown onto a helicopter.

Her picture, bio, and several brief videos were posted on a secret website. A video of her sleeping on a bed of blankets on the floor, restlessly tossing, whimpering in her sleep. A video of her naked in a nondescript shower. A video of her look of stunned amazement, then delight when an adorable little kitten was pushed through a locking metal flap in the locked door to her cell. And one of the most viewed videos, a night camera video of her masturbating in the darkness.

[Pyana]

Taken

A chilly autumn wind blew on the day Maddie buried her parents. By the time she was finished her hands were blistered, her tears had dried on her wind-whipped face, and her heart was raw. Her parents had died alone except for their daughter and son. No doctor, no sympathetic friends, no tending minister. No one had come by in over a week, but that was no surprise. They had established a mountain homestead  far out from civilization, on the wild edge of Arapaho and Ute territory. Her parents had sickened and died quickly, of something Maddie had seen before that was commonly called "Prarie Fever". Standing over their graves, she bitterly wished she had died with them.

But Maddie was not dead. And at seventeen she was a woman grown, and well trained in accepting responsibilities given to her. Her hand lifted, then rested on the touseled hair of her little brother sobbing into her skirt. He had tried to help her bury Mama and Papa, but at five he could not do much. So it was up to her to tend to him and take care of their home. Squaring her shoulders, she went into their small but well-built two room cabin, rifle in one hand, his smaller hand in her other.

"Jacob, I miss Mama and Papa too, but we got to make it together now, just us." The achingly small boy looked at her soberly. "I need you to be strong, your the man of the house now. That means no more whining about feeding the chickens, or taking care of Dunkie." They both looked over at the small black and white terrier lying unhappily at the open door staring at the graves.

"I won't, Maddie. I pwomise, no more whinin'" The boy promised with such an aching sincerity Maddie couldn't help hugging him, and they clung to each other for a long moment. But his rumbling stomach interrupted them, and he giggled as she snickered.

"Fine, let's get you something to eat. Go fetch some eggs."

Jacob dashed out the door, but she saw his eye catch the fresh cut graves under the aspens, and his joyous childish gait slowed. Sighing, she turned to the stove in the corner of the house. It would take time, but he would recover. But would she? There would be little enough joy ahead for her in a struggle to keep them fed and clothed and housed and ...well....alive. The cabin would last years, and they had plenty of food for the quickly approaching winter, and papa had just finished stacking hay for the 3 horses and 4 cows in the barn for the winter before he got sick. Iron clanged as she shoved more wood into the cooking stove before turning and mixing up cornmeal and buttermilk and a bit of salt for some cornbread. There were still some beans left from dinner. It would be an easy but filling meal, and there was still a lot of work to be done before the snows came. Papa had said they would come soon, within a week or two. And once they came, there would be no going to town. No one travelled these mountains in winter except a few Indians, outlaws, and ghosts. Decent folk hunkered down and waited out the howling winds, aching for spring.

They ate their simple meal of eggs, cornbread, and beans. Then they went to work. It was a busy week for them. What had been hard work for a grown man, two grown women, and a young boy was near impossible work for the two of them. There were meals to be made, laundry to be done, the last of the garden to be brought in and put up. Potatoes, onions, turnips, and squashes were bedded down in the cellar. She harvested her mother's herbs and dried them near the fire. The cows were taken to the meadow each morning and brought back each night by Jacob, and he carried a rifle and knew how to use it. They butchered the oldest cow, a horrible job for Maddie but one that had to be done if they were to have meat for the winter. Some of the beef was salted, some was smoked, some made into sausages and hung to cure. Already it was cold enough she did not have to worry about the meat turning. She chopped wood while her blisters broke open again and again, but Papa had not managed to get enough wood chopped to last them the winter, and it needed to be done before the snows came. She stopped only when the leanto was stacked to the ceiling with firewood, and that night soaked her blistered hands and fought back her tears while Jacob slowly worked his way through reading his reader out loud for her. He was just learning to read with the books Mama had brought from the East with her, insisting despite Papa's reluctance to haul a heavy trunk of books across the country.

It was nearly a week later and the feeling of snow was heavy in the air when their first encounter with people came. Maddie had not realized how much she depended on Papa for her security until she found her heart freezing when an excited Jacob came bursting in the door, exclaiming about two men riding up through the meadow.

The cabin was situated for defense, huddled against the side of a high and steep cliff, overlooking a sweeping meadow rimmed by heavy forest. It gave the cabin plenty of notice of people coming up on it, and the treeline was far enough away from the cabin that a man would have to be a perfect shot to be able to ambush anyone stepping outside the cabin until they had moved away from it. She sent Jacob to the root cellar and pulled a rug over the trap door, setting a chair and small table down over it to hide it. Then she barred the door and waited by an open window with her rifle. The men did not look to have good intentions. Two of them, hard and lean, with watchful greedy eyes. They rode pitiful horses, skinny and uncared for. When they were within earshot she rapped the windowsill with her rifle, keeping the heavy cloth curtains closed so they could not see all of her. She did not find herself to be beautiful, but many men in this country were woman starved.

The men froze at the sound of the heavy gunbarrel accompanied by her finger cocking the rifle.

"What can I help you gentlemen with?" Her voice was hard and unyielding.

The two men looked at each other, hiding their smiles. A woman alone, for no man had spoken up yet.

"Just lookin' fer a bite ta eat, Ma'am." The left handed man's voice was oily and smooth, but Maddie heard nothing but trouble in it. It was against her nature to send a man away hungry, even a man like this. But she had no Papa to protect her now, so she had little enough choice. If she had better feelings about him perhaps she may have allowed something for him, but there was nothing that felt good about him or his friend.

"We have nothing extra. There is a town about ten miles east. There will be food to be had there. Or you can shoot some game."

The man on the right noticed the two freshly dug graves.
"Pr'aps you could use a man or two on the place, ma'am. We be lookin' fer a job."

"We have no money to pay you nor food to feed you. Move along now."

The men did not move, and Maddie punctuated her order by a shot that rang out through the mountains, the bullet kicking up dust at their feet. That got them moving, their faces darkening in anger.

"Bitch! You will regret that!"

"Move along!" She tried to hide the quiver of fear in her voice, and watched as the men reluctantly turned and rode away. It was an empty threat, she told herself. Outlaws or not, few men dared to harm a woman in this country. Still, she kept a watchful eye for the next few days, and kept Jacob close to the cabin. After three days she relaxed a bit more. There had been no sign of the men, and the clouds lay heavy in the sky with snow. Any minute now it would fall, hiding the little cabin from the world for a winter.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

I have been reading Louis L'Amour! So! This one is set in the old west. A sturdy and beautiful girl orphaned with her younger brother, determined to provide and care for him. But forces move against her. With snow coming soon, she will be cut off from help. Outlaws know of her vulnerability, and some hungry Indians will be about. She has enough food, has books and sewing. I am looking for a solidly built, educated, respectful but woman-hungry and dominant man to stumble upon her. Someone she will fall in love with and learn to trust, who can protect her and her brother from the forces being arrayed against her. I am hoping for a slow, detailed, easy-moving story set at the edge of the Rocky Mountains during wintertime, probably ending about springtime. Any number of things can be created for plot fun. Brother gets kidnapped, SHE gets kidnapped, someone gets shot (maybe he shows up wounded - a lawman after outlaws), they get burned out, etc.