Dahling's Desires - A Mixed Bag. F for M Characters.

[Dahling]

Once again looking for a story...or two.  If you see something of interest, please PM me.  Do not respond to this thread.

Story #1
Show me your dirty, baby.

I wanna feel the way your hips shake.
The way your nails rake.
I wanna watch your fuckin’ heart break.
Before I tear you in two.

It’s not always love songs and roses and when it’s not, it’s really not.
That bitch crawled out of a hole and needs shot.

But I love the way she screams.
The way she creams.
When she’s crawling on the floor.
When she’s begging me for more.

Oh you beautiful little whore.

Can you see it? Can you feel it? The vitriol that possesses them? It all but bleeds from the walls of the shitty single wide trailer the owner calls home. The wallpaper’s peeling, the carpet’s so old you could tear it with your hands and the dust that mingles with the boil of smoke in the afternoon light adds the strangest sense of serenity. Empty bottles line the coffee table, some of them floating cigarette butts that still bear the kiss of her lipstick; it looks all but black in the amber hue.

I just can’t figure out who the cigarette butts belong to.

Sometimes, they belong to the lost and the broken. That beautiful obsession that they love to hate. The one who’s lips pucker when her cheeks are pinched, who ought to have known better. Who should have run away and maybe she did run, but they simply brought her back.

But who are they?

Sometimes, I see it as a female as well, long and slender, whose narrow face and sharp little nose make her look almost feral and whose eyes make her look mad. She’s too skinny by half, doesn’t eat enough, smokes too much, drinks even more. And that woman, the one who isn’t allowed to leave, that’s her obsession. That’s her pet, her good girl, whether she knows it or not. Perhaps it’s Stockholm's that keeps her, or it will be, once she’s suffered enough abuse. If that’s how it goes then the question becomes: What happens when the captive loves her captor? When she craves? When she begs? When those touches that sweep through her body make her tremble and moan and she no longer fights the fact that it’s a woman’s touch she craves. Are broken toys still just as much fun when they’re broken, or is it time to trade them in?

Other times, I see it as a male. Dark and brooding, hands twitching while he waits on his fix. Waits on her to wake up and come round to play again. He needs her so much you see, her perfection, her innocence, that sweetness that fills her eyes and lights her smile but as much as he needs it, needs her, he’s out to destroy it and the more she accepts it, accepts him, the more he hates her. Hates himself. His hands aren’t fit to touch something so pure, but if she can accept him, how pure can she be?

Show me your dirty, baby.

Tell ‘em who put that crimson in your smile.
The way you’ll whimper, after a while.

Tell ‘em who put those bruises on your skin,
Left that spit slick on your chin.
Begged me for it, again.
All you have to say is when.


---------------------------
Story #2

"Anna, stop. You're going to hurt yourself."

Only, she didn't see how that was possible. It was just a door, she was simply going to walk out it. How could that possibly get her hurt? He was always saying things like that. Stay away from the front room, don't go near the windows, as if she could see anything beyond the slim rays of light that shone through the wooden panels that covered the glass...on the outside. It was if they were locked away from the world or stuck in a box and she didn't understand it, not at all.

Two weeks ago, when she'd arrived it'd been easier to swallow the excuses. They could have been followed, someone might see her. It was all to keep her safe. But as the days marched on, those excuses began to wear thin on a girl who'd always enjoyed being out in the sun. One who was still struggling to understand why she couldn't go back and see her father, why she hadn't been allowed to go home, even for clothes, when He'd picked her up from the parking lot after school. It was her junior year, she was supposed to be enjoying it and instead...

"Just for five minutes," she implored, inching her way closer to the door and watching him warily. "Just five." There was one chain lock and two deadbolts on the door, the second of which required a key but she didn't think that he'd had time to lock it. She'd started in with the questions just as soon as He had walked into the kitchen and started putting away the groceries. If He was so worried about them being seen then it stood to reason that he shouldn't be going outside either, right?

"Anna, I said to stop."

But she didn't. Instead the sound of the deadbolt rolling back into the tumbler was loud in the quiet room and his lips pressed into a firm thin line.

"You're going to hurt yourself."

The chain rattled loudly as she slid the bolt free and let it drop down to dangle; began reaching for the knob even as he started prowling in her direction.

"Just fiv...," but the word never finished, because his patience had finally run thin, so that when he reached her it was with a shove that saw her body slamming in against the door hard enough to rattle her teeth, as his forearm braced against her neck. The girl's eyes flew wide in panic, her heart skipping a beat before it began a wild frantic pace in her neck. He could see the fear in her eyes then and it reminded him of the day that he'd picked her up in the parking lot. Coaxed her willingly into the crown victorian that many so often assumed was simply an unmarked police car. Even the badge he'd flashed had been a fake, but all too often people never looked close enough. He'd wanted to see how far he could push her gently, how much trust he could earn. It was all...part of the game. So he'd let her see him as soft, as gentle. As timid and a bit of a pushover and it had worked, for a time. It was always sweeter when he could earn their trust first. Added a flavor to the fear when it came that was so often missing without it. That was the beauty of betrayal.

"I told you that you were going to hurt yourself," he all but purred it, leaning in to run his tongue up the curve of her cheek. "Now look at you."

He didn't have to pretend anymore.

__

So who is he? Older certainly, much older than she. What does he want? What's it going to take to sate him? How far is he willing to push? How long before she understands that when he tells her, she's going to hurt herself, he means he's going to be the one doing it unless she obeys? Does he remake her? Is she some missing piece from his life? Someone whose hair he's going to recolor, someone he's going to dress and bathe and remake in the image that he so longs for?

I'd like to find out, if he sounds like someone's shoes you're willing to step into.

[Dahling]

Settings I enjoy:
Potterverse
Anne McCaffery's Pern or the Crystal Singer Trilogy
Vampire the Masquerade 2e
Werewolf the Apocalypse (Including Fomori and all Wyrm flavors)
Discworld
Changling the Lost, from nWoD
Victorian
Colonial
Wild West
1920's-1950's
Fantasy

Old Ideas, not feeling at the moment.

Fantasy Settings.

The Delicate Edge

Content: MxF,  Non-Con to Consensual (yes, in that order ;) ), Power Play, Age Play, BDSM, Extreme.

Setting: Historical with possible fantasy elements, in the age of Inquisition.

Scenario: They believed her a sinner, that she should be punished for those crimes that were committed by her very existence.  He'd been hunting her for months, tracing her progress through the country side even as she worked to stay ahead of him.  Witch. 

He was a Inquisitor and had been for decades, hunter of men and considered his position in the Church to the ultimate position of control.  He'd garnered the confession of many.  The fact that she eluded him was like a thorn in his paw and only made him all the more intent on her capture.

What happens when he finally gets his wish and the two come together?

Alternate Twist: In a possible more supernatural flavor of this scenario, he could be a werewolf, hiding his nature behind the cloth using the inquisition to ferret out the vampires among society and then we could add fang and claw, in with the play of blade and whip!

Requirements: Blade play, as it's become a current craving.  And someone to play the Inquisitor.  Anything else is up for discussion. _{*Looking for that flash of violence, rather than devices of torture.}

Other Info: What happens when she's captured?  When he tries to get his confession and his own darkness is revealed?  What happens when he who feeds on a need for pain, finds that match in she who feeds on the pain itself?  How else can he punish her for causing that desire, that need, than to spill all of it onto her?

It could be a one-shot, where we focus on the pleasure found in a dark confession or if we find our styles and current desires mesh, then it can turn into something longer.  Maybe she let herself be caught, only to start fracturing the church from within.   I'm leaving the story possibilities loose, so that there's room for shaping them out with a partner.



The Muse

Content: MxF, Vanilla to Possible Non-Con, Light Bondage.

Setting:  Modern or Historical Fantasy.

Scenario: They said that fairies lived in the woods, that there were voices there and lights.  That people who wandered in came back different, a little strange.  That they told tales of glowing lights and quiet wings in the night.

They say that monsters lived beyond the woods, that they thrived on violence and knew little of passion or kindness or the earth.  They lived in boxes made of stone instead of wood and set fire to the trees that they'd taken.  That they'd forgotten how to fly.

Nythra wasn't a fairy, though she understood that was how some tales came to be passed.  What she was, was a muse.  In the woods, she offered inspiration to the things around her, companion to every creature who lived beneath the dark canopy and on occasion, she'd crossed paths with those who came from beyond.  But those who came never stayed and had left her with little desire to leave the comfort of her home.

What happens when the next stranger comes along?  Will they find comfort in the mystery of her wooded world, or will they be enough to inspire her to leave it?



The Zookeeper

Content: MxF, Vanilla mixed with some extreme by way of her love for those creatures in her care. 

Setting:  Modern with a possible supernatural flavoring, to that end I'm looking for a shifter. Bonus if it's Old World of Darkness flavored, such as garou (werewolves), bastet (Werefelines of various type).

Scenario: Day in and day out, she's at the zoo.  Early, so that she can jog before it opens.  Late, so that she can ensure that those in care are receiving attention and being fed and when she's sure the cameras are off, a little time to roam about more freely.  But that's just her way, she's always cared more for animals than people and when she was younger, she used to swear that she could hear there thoughts.  The only difference time has made is that, she doesn't really tell anyone else what her animal friends, tell her.

And maybe what they're trying to tell her now is that one of them is different.  That something isn't right with the beast that they have on loan.  That it isn't like them, for all that it appears that way.

Is he trapped as a beast, or simply staying in his animal skin as a way to hide from those who would hunt him in the city?  Or perhaps he's doing some hunting of his own and it was the easiest way to get close to someone who readily shuns other human contact.



Beneath the Moon

Content: MxF, Light Bondage, BDSM, Extreme.  Werewolf x Human (Bonus points if you're familiar with Werewolf the Apocalypse and it's Garou x kinfolk, instead.)

Setting:  Modern

Scenario: Looking for a venture into the wonderful world of darkness, with this one.  Where a kinfolk is finally going to be discovered by a garou.  I'm honestly? Just a total sucker for the werewolves and would love to bring this little lady out to play.  She looks like she could be a whole handful of trouble.

Is their pairing one that both have accepted?  Has the hierarchy of society determined that she's going to be a mate and depending on the tribe...wouldn't really ask her opinion on it anyway.  Let's explore some options together!



Name: The Arrangement.

Content: Vanilla to Extreme, depending on preference.

Scenario: I've been toying around with the idea of an arranged marriage, that difference in class and title. The aspect of two personalities that are suddenly thrown together.  Both parties can be forced into it, or it can simply be on the woman's side of things.  I know that it's a concept that's been used often in both books and movies but I think it could be fun to write.  Because it is a concept that's so used, it's one I'd like to fine tune with my partner, so that we both find things about it we can enjoy. 

Setting: Historical or Modern, whatever suits our moods.



Title: A Ghost Story

Looking for:  A Brujah biker vampire, that's on the dominant side of things against his polar opposite.  Someone who doesn't fit in his world and who, on occasion, finds herself possessed by his former and somewhat beloved ghoul who doesn't see why death should stop her from enjoying the things she was addicted to in life, or why the woman whose body she's borrowing ought to have a say in things.

Inspired by: VtM, Sons of Anarchy

Content: Vampires mean blood play, beyond that whatever we decide.

Money makes the world go round.

His MC helps with that.  It's part of what they do, when they are settled at the clubhouse or out trying to handle their lives.  Drugs.  Sex.  Women.  Violence.

Everyone looks to him, he's the boss.  Why wouldn't they?  Gruff and prone to violence, he's not one to keep a woman for more than a night, maybe two, it's the lifestyle after all.  Too many complications when those pesky feelings get involved and it keeps things easier without taking the risk.  He's got his reasons, after all.  But everyone in the club knows them.

You see, it's been a couple of years since his 'old lady' died, except she was more than that to him.  She happened to be his ghoul.  You see, he's a vampire and so are several of the people in his MC, he's not just the boss, he's the clan leader in their little slice of the world.  A vampire. A Brujah.
And the night she died it cost him a measure of power, of men and money.  Someone had taken a shot at trying to claim his turf and he's still trying to find out who was responsible so that he can pay them back.

Then there's her.  She's not part of that world, not really. 

Instead, she's a ball of sunshine and sweetness.  A stark contrast to his denim and leather, wrapped up in rainbow colors and happy smiles.  A modern day flowerchild.  Except she's got a problem.  She happens to have the misfortune of being a medium.  One who can talk to the ghosts of those who have departed.  It's not like it was a profession she chose, it's more that it was one that chose her.

She does her best to avoid it.

The real problem comes along when she happens across his dead...girlfriend? Possession? What do you call a ghoul, who calls you master? Either way, it's the ghost of the ghoul that she comes across.  And that ghost, wants to find her way home back to the one she served in life and for the ghoul's part, loved.  The fact that she's dead doesn't seem to matter.  What matters is that she's finally found someone who can see her and more, someone she can possess, if she really wants to try.

So the ghost harrows the girl until she submits to go looking for the biker, the boss.  Hoping that if she tells him what happened, the ghost will finally stop trying to haunt her and go rest in peace.

The only problem is that the ghost hasn't really mentioned that he's a vampire.  Nor is she ready to own up to having ulterior motives.

Size Matters M/F
Ever had an itch to play with sympathetic magic?  Nyxie is a pixie. No more than three and a half inches tall and the world is a decidedly sorted place. I've a few different ideas floating around in my head, with her.  One involves a sorcerer with a sadistic streak.  Their world is one of props.  After all, she's no where near his size and yet, there's something with the fascination all the same.  An easy spell or gimick to get small is rather impossible, at least in the beginning.  But there's nothing to say he can spell the things around her to do the things he'd like to and can't.  Maybe he's a toymaker, instead and creates...things that'll operate on her slight size.
Main Kinks: Bondage, size play, toys, voyeurism.  Everything else is up for debate.

[Dahling]

Tidied up a bit, added The Stray and The Arrangement.