(Please note, I'm only looking for dom characters for these stories. Any gender mix is welcome. I tend to prefer dark themes in my games so please expect some level of horror and violence.)
Images without plots-
Between The Bars
He was a hero. He liberated the country from a terrible tyrant, putting the usurped prince back on the throne and helped hunt down the last vestiges of the corrupt. There was peace - not all thanks to the hero, but he was who the people saw. Life was good... for all of a year.
The prince was crowned, entered negotiations to open up the old trade routes, did his best to mend the land - all the while, suspicion festered. Whispers in the dark, fearful eyes, a few tense arguments with the King and his advisor - one single word misspoken. The hero was arrested. No trial, no charge and put in the most secluded Keep in the kingdom. From hero to traitor so swiftly it made his head spin.
A few months later, and someone else was brought in. A spy he heard the guards say, or an assassin. Someone too dangerous to let go but too useful to kill. They questioned him much more forcefully then they did the hero. There was no doubt that the person had been connected in some way to the toppled tyrant and the guards had no qualms about mistreating him. The hero heard it all. The spy tried to talk to the hero, between the questioning sessions and eventually the hero responded, reluctantly at first but then with growing respect for the other man's strange wit and intelligent if odd conversation.
They had a peculiar and new friendship when during one questioning session, the hero heard someone other than the spy scream. It was silenced, followed by the sounds of a desperate struggle that also ended surprisingly soon. There was a stretch of silence then someone coming out, and standing before the door of the hero. He had a ring of keys. The offer; stay and rot or come along...
Your Money Or Your Life
Greyblue smoke curled from his lips, his eyes half shut as he looked skyward, no star to be seen through the smog. Dawn was only a few hours away, and the world was at its quietest. “We could do it,” he mused in an absent way, the dreamlike trance of the smoke he breathed making him sound more relaxed and content than he ever did without it.
“Do what,” I asked, taking a drink from my flask, the bittersweet sake washing the aches that came with the job.
He rolled his head to look at me, the paint around his eyes smudged a little, his smile lopsided and happy. “You know what. We could go. You and me, get out of this city. We don’t have to live like this.” I snorted and lifted the flask again, but he rolled over, pressed his body to mine. His heat through our silks, that undeniable feel of his flesh caught me unawares. He took my hand and drew it slowly to his mouth, his lips pressed to one knuckle after another. “Never have to let people touch us, when we don’t want them to. Never have to say nice things when we feel angry or scared. We can do it.”
It was a pretty dream, and I was so very tempted. But… “How would we live? What skills do we have but this?”
His eyes clouded a moment, but then something bright and wicked and thrilling filled them with a smile to match as an idea bloomed in his smoke soaked mind. Sometimes in life, you could feel when fate picked up her dice of bone and gold and shook them in her hand. I felt that now, my breath caught. “Darling, there’s always the second oldest trade, when the first gets dull. The Highway, all my merchants always talk about it after they are done,” his disgust twisted his beautiful voice into something ugly. No wonder the idea had come to him, he must have fantasised about such a fate befalling them time and again. I knew I thought of unpleasant ends for my clients.
I took the hookah from him and breathed slowly, sucking in the smoke. I feared the idea, but he had a energy in him these last few weeks. He wasn’t able to stay settled for long, even though he’d signed his contract. He would leave eventually, with or without me. I would rather be with him than not. I’d rather be making demands than obeying them. I let out a plume of smoke. “Your money or your life,” I murmured.
The above is a short story I wrote some time ago, and would like to explore. This one would be two prostitutes fleeing from their indentured servitude to live in the outskirts of civilisation as highwaymen. I'd like something a little different with this one - intimacy and love without sex. Sex can happen, but I'd rather this one focus on none-sexual intimacy between the main characters. I see the world being a very dark place, full of perils they must overcome but sticking though the bad because it's better than what they left behind.
By Your Will
Familiars are an important tool for any magic user. Most come in the form of something small, such as a bat or rabbit, a cat or a crow. The more powerful the magic, the more powerful the familiar. The more powerful the familiar, the larger and wiser it is, the biggest in living memory being a bobcat, legends telling of a witch with a wolf familiar, but never... ever... in the form of a human.
Never, until now
This is very open, plotwise. I am open to writing either character. The familiar would urge his mage to aspire for greatness, urge them to use the great wells of power he has on tap. Having such a unique familiar would bring great scrutiny from the rest of the world, and then fear when the mage does great and wonderful things no one else has before accomplished with the small and petty magics at their disposal.
A great darkness is seeping into the land. Fruit rots on the trees, creatures once placid are now rabid, magic is turning stagnant and painful to draw on. Something unspeakable has happened, and few can begin to guess what.
Fearful but desperate, one elf decides to seek out the source of the taint, and see if anything can be done to mend it.
On her journey, she encounters many who would hinder her, a few who would help... for a price.
Your character would be the creatures she encounters, and mine would be the elf.
This can be any gender mix, I just used female pronouns to keep with the image that inspired it. I don't mind which, just lots of kink please. I would like the creatures she encounters to range between dragons, orcs, Minotaurs, centaurs and more. Don't expect my character to be ~pure~ or remain good, she will gradually succumb to the taint, too
Tales Of Albageist; Serpent King
She'd heard stories of Albageist. A deep, horror filled dungeon seeped in madness and mikkary, the darkest magic that was almost sentient in its hate. Arrogant after gaining fame and fortune through the land,she thought to make it certain that she were known as the greatest adventurer who ever lived. So with her band, she entered the labyrinthine dungeon. They met little resistance as they ventured towards the low levels, but their luck didn't hold. Luck never held in Albageist.
One by one the group was whittled away by death or fear or mistake, until she was alone and most utterly lost. In her desperate stumbling search, she came upon a large, open network of chambers, their original purpose a mystery but now served as the Serpent King's court.
Your character would be the serpent king (or whatever sort of nasty we can think up) and mine would be the adventurer.
This can be any gender mix. I just used female pronouns to keep with the image that inspired it. I don't mind which
(~*woooooo epic title for the win*~)
A dark force spreads through the land, carried in the hearts of humans, draining them of will and emotion until they are husks that exist to carry out the will of their master.
The man who controls the soulless army is a dark sorcerer, twisted and ambitious, craving to rule without opposition. He moved secretly at first, until enough of the population had been poisoned by his power - then took control, overturning the ruler with terrifying precision. It took very little time to get established, and a few years later, his hungry gaze turned to the next kingdom.
He and his army marched - and battled, and won. The Royal Seer was captured, and it was there he was told there would be one who he could not slay, one he could not control, who would be his bane. He laughed it off and killed the seer, and continued on to the next kingdom, and the next.
Satisfied for a time, he turned back to start work on a new castle from where he could rule from - and encountered a group of refugees fleeing. He commanded them to turn back, that they, as everyone, were his slaves and they would only delay the inevitable if they kept running. The group refused to live under his rule, so he infected one with his curse, and turned the man against his own family, slaughtering all - men, women, children. Even the animals.
All died by his hand. All, that is, except one child.
The soulless man couldn’t even lift his sword against the shocked and trembling child. The sorcerer poured more and more power into the puppet, but it became clear there was something wrong - blood started to trickle from the puppet’s eyes, ears, nose and mouth. Such a thing had never happened to the sorcerer before, but he decided to put it from his mind. He killed the puppet himself and reached out a hand to finish the boy himself.
As soon as he touched the boy with his magic, he felt it start to drain away, like a punctured wine skin would drain its contents. He almost killed himself right there that day, trying to kill the child that was spattered with his family’s blood.
The sorcerer managed to break from the child’s draining in time, and suddenly remembered what the seer had told him. He realised his bane would be this child.
He was faced with a dilemma. He could not kill the child himself, or have one of his thralls kill him. He could bind him and leave him with his dead, and hope he be eaten by a bear or wolves... but he dare not risk it to fate. If he was raised an enemy, he would be a threat in time to come... so that left one option. To take the boy and raise him as his own. Love would keep the child from turning on him in the future, wouldn’t it?
This is just the prelude. The game would be started later on, when the child is in his twenties (maybe younger or older depending on the wishes of the partner.) The Bane would have been raised as the sorcerer’s child, being too young when he was discovered to remember much before the horror of seeing his father killing his family. Having said this, I want their relationship to be quite cruel and brutal most of the time, with some periods of mindfuckery and tenderness. The Bane would have been taught how to fight, becoming something like the sorcerer’s right hand. He would protect the sorcerer at times, and at others would ride out and command his forces against uprisings and such.
While the sorcerer cannot use magic against his Bane, he would be able to still cause him physical harm, short of killing him. If the Bane is harmed near the sorcerer, he heals faster, draining his master’s power to do so - a death blow to the Bane would kill the sorcerer more certainly than it would kill that Bane.
The Bane would have been trained to crave his master’s approval, no matter what is asked of him. The Sorcerer would be highly invested in keeping the Bane in line, but also in making him highly dependent.
Where the plot goes is up for discussion, whether it’s the Bane slowly starting to fight against his brainwashing/training, or whether he is kidnapped by a group of rebels/heroes who try to turn him to their cause, or just them going around, conquering new lands and suppressing rebellions and getting in each other pants along the way.
I’d play the Bane, who will be a sub only for the sorcerer.
Kinks I’d like to include (but are not all required) are father/son, bestiality, coming on command, public sex acts, sounding, watersports, mindfuckery, sleep sex, and casual cruelty.
It was the biggest war that had touched the world, two empires clashing together. One old and past its prime, the other fresh and young and straining to grow. When the older nation summoned its most powerful mages to the field, they thought the end would come quickly for the upstart empire, for what could stand against such force?
They had heard through spies of a new technology that could null a mage’s power but none of the spies could tell them more, so ignored it, thinking it was just a rumour to give their troops moral...
The war mages attack was harsh, brutal, mercy only an afterthought. Hundreds fell before them until the retaliation came. Fist sized crystal orbs were sling-shot over the heads of the mage’s forward guard and smashed against protective barriers, spilling liquid over the shields, sizzling away to vapour.
It took moments for the effects to be felt by the mages, their deep wells of power draining away.
The tide of battle turned against them with the loss of the mages, and the old empire fell back.
A year later, the old empire gained their hardest victory, and absorbed the young empire into their own, killing the leaders and enslaving those minds behind them and trying to discover the secrets they kept.
Your character will be one of the mages who was disconnected from his power, possibly a little way towards getting it back, possibly scarred during the retreat. I’d prefer something disfiguring, but he’d be your character so your choice.
I would play one of the newly enslaved researchers, who he bought with large amounts of money and several favours. The war mage would be trying to get all he could about the anti-magic my character had helped to develop and exacting revenge for his damage through sexual torture.