3 ideas, please pick one. (F for M)

[Sao]

I've found some truly wonderful writing partners here, and we've been writing some really great stories! Yet recently my muse is asking for more and more inspiration, so I'm on the hunt for some new collaborators. Please pm me if one of these ideas strikes your interest; even though there're several ideas, I'm currently only open for one more story. Or, if you are into and have twists any of those old ideas in the link in my signature, don't hesitate to contact me.

This might be unavailable after a few days not because it's taken but because my muse wants something else.

And please read the link in my signature for my O&O and other things.

Sorry I'm just a whore

the post

From a very young age the children of the town were taught to never ventured to the upstream of the river, it was the place for the death.. It was within this very spot, somewhere deep into the heart of it, laid a small but steady house. The simple townsfolk called it 'the waiting room', it was the place for the sacrificed, an unfortunate person would soon travel to the after world with his or her master.

It had become almost tradition that with every rich or powerful person's death, they would gather offerings, a virgin poor servant to send along. No one remembered who had built up the rule about a sacrificed, that the servant would serve their master for eternity, they just simply followed it. A servant, was simply just a slave with freedom. The only thing distinguish them from slaves was that they were allowed to leave if they want to. But no one ever had. They all needed a shelter and food. Earlier this month, the village chief had died after a years suffering with pain and sickness. Some said he had reached his time, some said he had worn himself out with all the young women he shared his bed with.

She was one of his women. And he in fact was also just one of her men. People either looked at her with disgust or licked their lips hungrily staring at her boobs. It was not a secret that she sold her body for anyone who can paid her price. Ellyn the Whore, that was what they called her. It was a pity, though, since the young girl possessed a unique beauty.

The first thing a stranger would notice probably was her unusual long ginger hair. She would be a real life Rapunzel only if the hair were blonde. Her eyes were blue, topaz blue, made great contract with the color of her hair and would catch one's attention when looking at her. And now those eyes were staring at the ground, as she was waiting for her destiny. Her wrists and ankles tied together, preventing her escape. As if she would run! She had volunteered herself, been willingly to die with the chief. Not that she loved him, of course she didn't. How could she love that hairy man with a huge belly that nearly obscured his cock? She had often fought to breathe as she labored beneath the crude, smelly old man. But, he thought he was the lord's gift.

To speak ill about the death would send her to hell, but wasn't she in hell already? People looked down on her like she was a piece of shit on the streets that they would avoid to step on. If they didn't spit in front of her face, they would grab her breast or squeeze her ass. She was the whore, wasn't she? The one that women would be glad to throw rocks at her as she steal their husband. The one that young girls would giggle and whisper every time she passed by as she slept with the men they disgusted. And the one that would never be able to win his heart.

He was the third son of the chief, one of those decent gentlemen that wouldn't come near a prostitute. But never had he made her feel cheap and unwanted. Ellyn felt her eyes well up with tears. Despite his warming smile, despite all the kindness he had showed her, despite this painful feeling she had been hiding, she knew he would soon marry a young educated woman from a wealthy family. She would never be an option if he searched for a wife. She had heard somewhere, that there were only two kind of love: the love of joy and the love of agony. Hers must belong to the second type for every time she saw him, her heart clenched. Why on earth that she loved him? Why on earth that she loved anyone? Perhaps it was one of the reasons she wanted to die, to get away from this world.

And the other reason was to have his arms around her, in the mourning hug each member of the chief's family would give to her at the funeral. She leaned back against the wall, imagine how his warm and scent would surround her, enclosing her, before the heat of the fire took her away.

She sat there in silence, eyes closed, head bowed, body relaxed. It was in those moments when she finally accepted her fate.

the plot

It is a tradition of her people, to have a servant to escort the dead one on his way to the after life; another way to say a slave would be burned with the master during the cremation. Of course they would ask for a volunteer and would choose one if no one come up. Normally they would have to choose, but this time she volunteers herself.

She was officially a maid of the village chief's family, and unofficially she was the whore of the whole village. She sleeps with many men to get what she wants: money, and power. Even though she's just a maid, others would avoid to mess up with her except for those who want to get in her pants. She slept with the chief, no doubt. But she's secretly in love with his third son. He is one of those rare people treat her like a human, even though she knows very well he would never fall for his father's slut . His dream girl must be pure as snow and innocent as a lamb.

If a servant is to die with the master, the master's close relative such as children and wife would come and embrace the poor servant to thank them. And that is the only reason she volunteers: to be in the arms of the man she loves, even just for a short moment.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately that man, the third son of the chief is against those out-dated customs. Killing a person just for another person's funeral makes no sense in his opinion. He frees her and hides her in the near by forest, waiting for nightfall to help her escape. When the time comes, they discover an army of the enemy village. They try to warn their people but it's too late, and as the enemy is searching for the chief's family, he has to run too.

That's the basic idea, other details would be discussed. But I'm searching for a world before the Roman empire, I think it's the Celtic civilization, a setting that is familiar with the one in the Red Riding Hood (2011 film). And mainly, I'm looking to play a two-faced girl. She has her reason to open her legs for every body, and not proud of it like the way she acts.

The gentle master

the plot

The basic idea is master and slave, but this is a bit different. The master surely is the dom, asking her to call him sir and beg for permission to cum but not like those would call her a bitch/slut and make her laid with another man or woman. He cares for her and loves her.

He has grown up in a society where men own women so the way he shows his attention to her is different. He hasn't thought about having a slave until he meets her. She is born a slave and is given to him. She has never seen herself differently and doesn't know what to do if she's "free". He could set her free but she would cling to him and beg to stay, thinking that he doesn't like her. He would have to work hard to teach her being a real independent human again.

the post

The cage was chained behind the carriage, its rusty wheels making lousy noise as they travel slowly in the sunset. They had started the trip this afternoon, and should have been there in no time.

She felt a little cold, but it was livable. She was a slave, born as a slave and lived as a slave. In this city, slaves were legal and the law system almost had no power here. No one know why the King couldn’t land his hand on the place but this area was like a different isolated part of the world with its own law and rules. Women were very aware of this place, they knew it was the last place on Earth they would want to visit. Any girls without a collar on her neck would soon find a rope closing around her and a man claimed her as his property. They weren't just caught and sold, some of them were bred, born into slavery. She was one of the ones born in a cage and been taken from her mother since she had been too young to remember. She had grown up with other girls, and had been taught that she was here, in this life, for only one reason: pleasing the master.

She sat up before the car jerked and made a turn. It was going to be a while yet. She tried to keep her eyes closed, to stay comfortable. She reached one of her hand up and rubbed it along her neck under the collar. It was leather, she wasn't allowed to take it off. Disobedient slaves would be punish, even though she had never been in the situation, she had seen; and it frightened her. The slave would be stretched with her limbs tied, making her into a X position. They would whip her, shoving huge objects into her vagina and anus, until she bleed and plead for mercy.

The carriage stopped in front of the big gate, she looked out of the bars to see her new master talked to a servant. The servant guy glanced at her and nod, running into the big mansion. The gate open, and the vehicle moved again.

The nobleman inside the carriage, had bought her this morning. He had examined her carefully from head to toe, and even had asked for a blowjob and seemed to be pretty satisfied. She hoped he would treat her well, and would be a nice master. That was all she could do: hope.

---

Roger Monteux smiled as he sat in the carriage, didn't look back but he knew very well the cute little girl was still in the cage. She was a well trained one, and would never have the gut to run away. He still remembered the sight of her, brown hair and emerald eyes, with green clothes to match the color of those iris. If you can call those tiny piece that hardly covered her body clothes. He chuckled. He would love to keep her for himself, but his friend needed her more. Roger couldn't understand how a man could refuse to have a slave, any slave at all. It wasn't just plan wrong on how things around here worked, it also against the society. Roger didn't want his friend to end up in jail just because of his stubbornness.

He could guess why, however. With years being outside of the city, obviously the man's point of view had changed. Roger hadn't left his small city for long, only on some business trips but he knew how it was out there, with women walking freely on the street and men even kissed their hands. To be honest, he had done that by himself, just to lure a sexy busty girl to his bed, though. But his friend would see it differently. Didn't matter, he was going to give his friend one right now, and the man would have to accept it.

---

The girl held onto the bars as the cage shook with every move, unintentionally arched her body upward, she was young and no older than eighteen with a slender figure. Surely the slave trainer hadn’t feed her beef and wine. She looked around, it was strange here and the girl confused. This place looked nice, but also dirty, almost lifeless. As if no one had been here since a very long time. It seemed this man wasn’t the owner of the house and therefore wouldn’t be her new owner? She didn’t know, now she felt scared, what was going to happen to her?

Dark angel

The plot

She was born in a noble family, yet for some political reason that she couldn't understand, her family was destroyed. She sorted for help from her father's friends but then ended up in some old men's bed. She then turned from a sweet innocent girl into some sort of bitter woman wanting to revenge and wanted her high rank back.

Accidentally the girl meets an overly well built man. He was strong, and he thought she has saved him from prison. He might be in love with her, and if he isn't, she would make him fall into her spider web and make him do whatever she wants to accomplish her revenging plan.

the post

She grew up in a wealthy family, one of the richest families of that small village in the north of the country. She had studied to become a true lady: how to behave in public, how to smile, how to walk, how to dance…but she didn’t study how to react when seeing her father cut his throat off right in front of her eyes; she didn’t study how to feel when hearing her mother screamed in panic “Run, Mira, Run!” Running over hills and meadows, through day and night, Mirabel didn’t remember how she could find the mansion of Lord Baron, an old friend of her father. He was the only one seemed to be happy to see her. She had knew before trying to end his life, her father had tried to ask all of his friend for help, and hadn't got any reply. She was a typical noble girl, staying in the house and only went to parties with her mother. She didn't know what her father did outside the house, didn't know about his business or how he had spent all their money. She just knew that every body, their friends, their relative...had turned their back to him. Even those that used to be under his wings.

At least Lord Baron was nice enough to let her stay and give her a shelter. She had thought so and didn't notice how his hand wandered from her back to her butt as he hug her tightly. And the young girl had been totally unaware when he jumped onto her bed that night. That night Mirabelle Alington had died, what left was a shield full of hurt, sorrow and enmity. And now, Mirabelle Baron had just archived the first step in her plan: sending her old fifthly husband to the after world. After hours of crying and trying to ease the painful feeling between her legs, she had looked at herself in the mirror and realized her long curly auburn hair, her innocent sky blue eyes, her full mouth, her ample breasts would make everything easier if she use them wisely. And so, the old Baron had married her and then died three months after that. Some servants whispered about how he had exhausted himself on her bed but no one knew about the small amount of rat poison in the wine she had brought to him every night.

But who care? All they saw was a poor young girl, came from a ruined family and God made her life even more miserable by talking away her new husband.

Mirabelle gave the florist a soft smile as the old woman gave her a white rose. "Thank you." she said tenderly "Anything for you, my lady." the woman replied "Hope you will feel better soon."

Turning the flower in her hand, she looked at her feet for what it seemed to be a sad moment "Thank you again, you're very kind." she said with a low voice before walking away, knowing that they would whisper about how bad fortune had set on her. She managed to hide her smile, couldn't put off her angel mask in front of them, could she? It was then she heard the loud noise behind her, a whinny sound of angry animals running directly toward her. Turning her head back, Mirabelle was startled, seeing a black horse almost flying to her. Before she could pull her feet up to run, she stepped on her own puffy dress and fell onto the ground with a thud.

She was too stunned to scream or cry. She just simply sat there, her face pale and her heart started to run, just like the wild animal would soon step onto her.