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Author Topic: M In Search Of F For Plot-Based, Character-Driven, Sexually-Themed Stories.  (Read 2065 times)

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Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Note: This thread may be more generalised than seems to be the case with many on E.  My interests are varied, and I prioritise the finding of partners whose global preferences mesh with mine, and with whom I communicate well, over being wedded to specific storylines or cravings.

POST 1: Introduction, General Information, Ons/Offs and Pairings
POST 2: Plots and Note on Plotting
POST 3: Writing Samples
POST 4: Links To Thread Stories On BlueMoonRoleplay

I'm a male, who plays mostly dominant characters, always on the search for fun, creative and intelligent female partners. To save wasting both our time before you read any further, please note that when I say I play dominant characters, that relates to them possessing a dominant persona, and should not be perceived as a label. It also does not mean I'm looking to write opposite submissive females, I'm not.

Characters who are physically submissive are fine, however, I am not, in the slightest, attracted to characters who are intellectually or emotionally submissive. Nor those who are submissive in a general sense, and are unable to express or assert themselves sexually, and otherwise, both inside and outside of the bedroom. If I am to do a domination or forced scenario, I have no interest in (preying on) the weak, so will only do ones that require 'taking' of control from the strong, and unwilling submission, however I will not entertain any long-term D/s et al scenarios. The submissive side of any relationship dynamic, including those who have a singular 'submissive' aspect to their sexuality, bores me to tears.

My intellectual and carnal interest, which extends to my preferences for fictional characters, is garnered by independent women who possess a desire for autonomy, a natural inclination to act of their own volition, and are sexual beings in their own right, so in line with that I will not portray males who are drawn to a woman for no other reason than she's female and breathing, opposite a woman who brings no motivations, goals, intent, purpose, and sexual agency of her own, to a scene, and/or creatively one-sided stories driven entirely by the male character's motives with a premise centred around nothing but his agenda for the female.

Now that I've likely lost 99.9% of people with the above, - which I felt was only fair to clearly state upfront, as what I have antipathy towards are, by far, the most commonly requested dynamics on here - a little about what I do like, for the few who remain, xD!

Although I have a slight preference for psychologically dark stories, I'm more than a one-trick pony, and crave diversity over all else. My characters (and associated themes) can range from brutal rapists and sadistic serial-killers, without empathy or remorse, to cocky, flirtatious small-time thieves, manipulative porn producers, or playful familial rivals, as the Three 'Bears' in a re-telling of Goldilocks, and many points in-between. I'm here to write a variety of personalities and themes, generally preferring modern settings, but potentially open to others, such as historical or light fantasy, as long as any concentration on that aspect of the plot doesn't detract from the importance of character development and dynamics. The latter being, in any story, where my main interest lies.

Whilst I am looking for erotic stories, centred around a sexual dynamic(s)/premise(s), that is not synonymous with wanting them to be 'smut-driven'. In that regard, the majority of my stories tend to be around an 70/80-30/20 story-to-sex ratio, as I find scenes that contain little but copious amounts of 'he thrusts/she moans' sex, lack depth, and swiftly become tedious to both read and write. It's the character interaction, buildup, foreplay, tension, and psychology of a sexual scenario that interests me as much, if not more, than the physical act. An intrinsically sexual, driven by character motivation, plot with smut, rather than a lot of smut with minimal plot. I also like my stories with spice, so a little (or a lot) of kink and/or taboo adds to the fun.

As for specific plots, although I do have a few below, I'm fine if none of those are your particular cup of tea, as a lot of my most successful long-term collaborations have come about with those who weren't interested in any of my plots, or me in theirs, to begin with, but where our overall preferences were compatible, and we thought we could still mesh as writing partners! Therefore, I prioritise finding those potentially compatible partners with whom I can, in collaboration, develop something unique, or rework a basic concept, tailored to our individual tastes, over deciding upfront on any set plot. My plotting creativity also kicks up a few gears when I have someone to bounce off.

My posts are generally in the 500 - 1000 words range, and I write on thread - no IM/PM/Email, sorry - preferring slower paced replies from both sides, with a substantive response around once a week and no concerns if it's less often than that; as long as OoC communication is maintained, I'm good with extremely relaxed posting rates. To commit myself to more, or receiving super-rapid replies, places too much stress on my poor little brain due to me working full-time, and my time zone likely being much different from most others. Long-term over short term.

OOC Communication - I keep my 'real-life' and my roleplay life separate, however OoC banter and causally getting to know my partner is a must. Roleplaying is a collaborative endeavour, and I prefer to expend my creative energies on those I can share a friendly chat and a joke with. I never have, and never will, drop a roleplay without first discussing it with my partner, and have very rarely had it happen to me, and rapport and camaraderie built through good communication is one of the reasons for that.

Kinks and Anti-Kinks

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

*Intelligent and independent-minded females; my biggest kink, by far
*Good dialogue, banter, humour, a battle of wits
*Provocation/Power plays
*Sexually confident women
*Non-Con/Rough seduction leading to consent
*Force/manipulation (psychological/verbal)
*Force/Rape - meaning no compassion, no remorse. I don't write rape scenarios where "she ends up loving it". See Anti-kinks below.
* BDSM (Just because I have no interest in the Dom/Sub relationship dynamic doesn't mean I have no interest in BDSM practices, although I will quickly become bored if this is the only sexual component to a story
*Dangerous and/or taboo situations
*Public Sex
*Ménage à trois/Threesomes (I enjoy playing multiple characters with differing personalities)
*Age play - but only with intellectually mature characters
*Foreplay/Buildup/Sexual tension
*Multiple partners/gangbangs (forced or mutual)
*OOC Chat - I'm not after your life story but friendly banter, and ability to have a chat and a laugh with my partner is a must
*Pretty much anything else that isn’t on my ‘Things I’m not into list’. I also have an f-list:

Things I’m not into:

*Tentacles and Non-humanoid
*Typical 'Master/Slave' and/or 'Dom/Sub' pairings - way too cliché and overdone. I was bored of them even before Shades of Grey was released
* Naive/innocent/blushing virgin type female characters
*Willing subservience / submissiveness
*Rape/Full on non-con to con where the female character 'ends up loving it'. If I'm to write a rape scene, one of the most vile acts imaginable, I refuse to write it in a way that does not do the real horror/impact of it justice. That does not negate forced pleasure, as long as the female character still mentally despises the acts, although her body may betray her, however, I tend to only write those types of scenes with partners I've written with before, and can trust to keep it interesting from my perspective.

Overarching Themes I enjoy:

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Some of the themes, which can be used in many settings and with many character types are:

The corruption of an innocent,
a taboo relationship (cheating/ageplay/power imbalance, etc),
dangerous lust,
betrayal of trust
a first-time experience (be it multiple partners, exhibitionism, voyeurism, or other),
an uppity female being 'put in her place',
manipulation and humiliation,
an arrogant male learning a lesson in humility,
a woman in a situation of utter helplessness,
a proud wo(man) stripped, both literally and figuratively, of his/her dignity,
and many more


Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
I could list a million pairings here but as there's infinite ways to play any pairing, I really don't see the point. I prefer to figure out what we want to write a story about (is it incest, cheating, corruption, rape, seduction?) first,  then develop/decide on characters who best suit the theme. As long as it doesn't conflict with my dislikes, it's a pretty safe bet to assume I'm open to it. But, for those of you who just can't live without any at all:

Obsessive Boyfriend/Girlfriend
Older Jock/Younger girl
Work colleagues
Incest - Not really a kink of mine but, if it is yours, I'm good with it

If you have a particular pairing you're craving, let me know, I can usually find a way to work them into a plot.
« Last Edit: April 06, 2017, 08:18:00 PM by Mr Quixotic »

Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Re: Mr Quixotic's Request Thread (Work In Progress)
« Reply #1 on: June 26, 2015, 02:22:12 AM »
Disclaimer: In all honesty, I'm crap at coming up with plots from a blank slate -refer to notes on plotting below -, and I what have here is only random thoughts. If you have a particular craving/kink in mind that you think fits in with the overall theme of my thread, don't hesitate to throw it at me, all I can do is say no.


Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Infidelity Taken

A young novelist, wealthy beyond his apparently limited success, receives a call from an old friend, who he hasn't spoken to since College. Upon hearing he, and the man's girlfriend plan to travel to his city for a month, as she attends job/college interviews, he offers them a bed, unaware of the others true intent.

Consumed with old grudges and long-contained jealousy, and believing the novelists success had come off the back of his ideas after uncovering the truth behind his wealth, the man intends to demand his fair share. Simultaneously, he can show of his new trophy; the one thing, beautiful and perfect, he had that his old buddy, always more successful with the ladies, and in life, could never claim as his. 

Or, is that true, because what will happen when she discovers that her boyfriend's old college dorm-mate, under a pseudonym, is the responsible for a series of bestselling erotic novels that speak to every sexual fantasy she'd ever possessed, as if the author could read her soul?

Am looking for someone flexible in their kinks/sexual dynamics, as I'd like it to incorporate a little of everything, and a lot of variety, in that context. Too many options to list here, but happy to discuss further if anyone's interested in the above concept.


A base idea that's been in my head for a while that I'd like some help to flesh out.

My character, a rapist, out of pure mischief decides that he requires psychological treatment to help resolve his anger issues. Very selective about who he'd bare his soul to, she'd need to be female and attractive. Not one to easily trust, he doesn't intend to reveal all immediately, or admit to any actual crimes, even if she is bound by patient confidentiality, but to keep it all hypothetical. And if the Doctor happen to become aroused by what he hypothetically could have done to these women, that's her issue.

So, is he telling the truth, or lying? To get into his mind, and discover that answer, in order to be able to help, she'll need have him explain everything in exquisite detail, and, perhaps, perform physical demonstrations. All in the name of medicine, or course. Just how was the victim kneeling, and were he hands tied behind her back, or in front, and with what? Was she screaming, crying or begging when he raped her? Is that position even possible?

I imagine this as a fun game of cat-and-mouse, both of them knowing the truth, and that the other does as well, but continuing to couching it all in hypothetical terms, at least the beginning, with a lot of buildup, 'teasing' and 'foreplay,' as the talk/actions become incrementally more intense. However, it requires more than just counseling sessions and interaction between Doctor and Client, so am looking to add another over-arching plot element.

Does she become a partner in his crimes, enjoying watching him rape other women? Is she married, with a boring sex-life, and her relationship with her husband change as her demands for him to become increasingly sexually rougher and more violent , grow stronger? Does she step outside the relationship, putting herself in dangerous situations, and risking her marriage, career and reputation, to sate her new desires? A combination of all, or something else entirely?

Curiosity Killed The Cat

Would like to do a coercion/blackmail roleplay where a female 'victim' is complicit in her own corruption. Basic concept that comes to mind is a daughter/wife of a well-known businessman, bored with her safe life, or disciplinarian upbringing, escapes for an evening of excitement, leading to her, of her own volition, hooking up with the 'wrong guy'; a drug dealer/criminal, or the like, who, on discovering her identity, sets out to extort her for sexual favours, and possibly as a drug-runner. The point of difference being, rather then a hatred or the situation, the female character would be aroused by it, with any 'resistance' not real, but used as a self-justification for her to enter (and pro-actively place herself) into increasingly depraved and dangerous situations. Thinking the scenario would jump between that relationship, and the one with her Father/Husband, where she'd need to maintain her 'good-girl' persona, and keep her secret life hidden.

The Betrayal

He’d managed to conceal it his entire life, to hide it from those who would try to change or 'help' him. Sure, some had their suspicions, but it was nothing they could put their finger on, nothing which could be proven – he'd never allow that to happen.

Some knew more than others, of course; the ones he'd hurt before and a couple of his friends. Friends? Maybe acolytes was a better word, 'friends' implied that he was capable of caring for someone other than himself. It wasn't like they'd tell anyone though, the acolytes reaped the benefits, and the others? Well, they'd seen what he was capable of.

Still even then, they didn’t really know, not the whole truth. That underneath the charming, intelligent and friendly exterior there lay a true sociopath, totally incapable of remorse or empathy; one whose sole pleasure in life came from the pain of others, who could only feel true emotion through their suffering.

From the moment he saw her, he knew. She was just another victim, another toy to play with. He’d charm, befriend, manipulate and isolate her, until, in the end, he was the only one she could depend upon, the only one she could trust and, in return, he'd be the only one who cared for her. And once she trusted him, completely, he'd betray her.

They had yet to speak, but he knew how it would be, it would be as it was before. He closed his eyes and the images ran through his mind, as if  watching a silent movie. He could see the look of pain and disbelief on her face; the dawning realisation that this is what he'd always wanted. Although there was no sound, he knew through her wide open mouth she would be screaming and begging for him to make it stop, pleading for it not to be true.

And he'd watch, and he'd laugh and he'd mock, as his friends systematically used and violated her and her mind and body were broken, but most of all he would feel. Her emotions and her pain would be his emotions, his pain, and for that fleeting moment in time at least, he'd be able to feel something.

(Looking for a particular dynamic in this, in that not a female 'victim' type, but a normal, girl-next-door, and for the relationship to include consensual, 'enjoyable' sex, initiated by either/both parties, as subtle manipulation occurs behind her back, leading to a brutal, non-consensual coup de gras.)

The Girl-Next-Door

“Models (female), 18-19, required for catalogue, website and private photo shoots. Great hourly rate and flexible conditions with a reputable company. Afternoons, weekends, or evening work available. Perfect opportunity for college students, all welcome to apply. No nudity required. Contact Connor on ..............."

That was the advertisement thirty-three year old Connor Adams had placed in local newspapers and on the college community boards a week ago and as far as he was concerned, it spoke the truth. His company, Girl Next Door Productions, was reputable - within the pornography industry - and nudity wasn’t a requirement. Not, that was, unless you wanted regular work and the ability to earn ten times as much as you could flipping burgers in a fast-food joint. A small fish in a big pond, Connor planned to become a shark.

The films the larger porn production company's made, and the girls they used - pretend 'teenagers' with bleached blonde hair, pierced lips, noses and eyebrows, tramp-stamps, and the most incredibly fake orgasms he'd ever witnessed -. were all too similar, and no longer offered the public anything they hadn't seen a thousand times before, so he'd come up with a new idea. The girl-next-door. A barely legal,, articulate and personable young woman with a bright future ahead; one who Father's would be proud to claim as a daughter, and Mother's to think of as a son's future bride.

And once he found that Girl-Next-Door, he'd take those Mothers and Fathers, along with brothers, sisters, friends, lovers and peers, on an ever intensifying journey; able to watch every minute of the once normal teenage girl's life as she was transformed into an Internet sensation, and filthy, depraved, insatiable, cock-craving whore. There, but for the grace of God, goes my daughter. It was a sure-fire winner.

If, deep down, she desired what he offered, so much the better. Now he just had to find her.

The Proposition

She's an eighteen year high-school senior, near graduation and looking forward to moving to a new state to attend college after the Holiday's, and beginning her quest for independence. Attractive, but not stunningly gorgeous, neither a virgin or a slut, she's your typical, studious, girl-next door. He's an elder man, around thirty or so, and handsome enough, who approaches her outside the school gates with a proposition.

One night, $5,000 an hour, and all she needs do is to entertain he and some high-flying business colleagues for the evening at his mansion. A chance to let her hair down; in total confidence, without judgement; and experience something many woman fantasise about. It will be her secret to keep forever, and she's free to leave at any time with the money earned;  however a further $100,000 will be paid if she stays until morning. Enough to ensure she'll be able to be concentrate on her studies, and enjoy College life, without the need to work.

A once in a lifetime offer, and it's only one night.

The Businessman and the Stripper

He frequented the clubs, not because of the women, well girls really, dancing naked up on the stage. He did it, because, since Amy died and his wife had left there wasn't really much else. At least it took his mind of things for a while. That and his job, it helped keep the anger at bay.

From the moment he saw her, he couldn't get her out of his mind. Not in a lustful way, or not that he recognised as such. It was her looks, her smile, her youth, how she reminded him of his daughter. He had  the money, he might be able to help her. To help her leave that dirty business, to find something else, to maybe even to go to College.

She was young, and she stripped for a living. It was as simple as that. She got naked for strange men, and she loved it. She loved the attention, the admiring glances, the money, the fact that all those men wanted to touch have her. Who would want to work their ass off eight hours a day at minimum wage when they could do this?

All he wants to do is help her, all she wants is what's in his wallet. Who'll win this little game of manipulation. And what will become of the loser?

Good Guy Lucifer

I've had a vague idea I've mentioned to a few people about writing a story inspired by the 'Good Guy Lucifer' Memes, whereas Satan is the misunderstood, good guy, and God, the Evil one who, by virtue of having her book published first, claimed all of the credit for being 'Good'. I'd envisage it as a parody, with a female God, but as far as fleshing out a greater story, I've a few ideas, but am finding them hard to coalesce in my mind.

Possibly Satan and God are a couple, having trouble with their sexually precocious teenage daughter, Eve, and wayward adopted son, Jesus, with every earthquake, tornado and  tsunami, a result of marital bickering, and a 'Just because we're married, you can't tell me what to do' attitude from God, met with a "I think we need counseling, honey, you've just killed another three-hundred-thousand people," one from her husband.  Of course, would also like to throw a solid overarching story-line in there as well.

Edit: One other thing that attracts me in this idea is that, with the concept of God being eternal and omnipresent, time-lines and location wouldn't matter. We could move from the present day in one post, to God, in a fit of pique, flooding the Earth in the next, then onto Samson and Delilah, or Sodom and Gomorrah, soon after, potentially playing the characters out, and putting our own unique spin on each scenario. Ah, this is what I mean about my brain getting ahead of me with possibilities, there's now about a gazillion different ideas rattling around, unchecked, in my head, and how they could all fit together.

The Reincarnation of Peter Proud

Supernatural isn't usually my forte, but this was a book I pinched off my parents and read when I was about thirteen and for some reason, it's always stuck with me.

From Amazon:

"Dr. Peter Proud’s ordinary life as a professor in California is threatened by recurrent dreams that all end the same: with his murder in a lake at night by a mysterious woman named Marcia. These dreams—which he comes to believe may be flashbacks from a previous life—become so disturbing that he seeks answers from a sleep researcher, a clairvoyant, and an expert in psychic phenomena in order to recover his past. But he soon discovers a new dimension to his dilemma while watching a television show called “America, Past and Present”—and realizes the show is set in the town in his dreams.

He travels to Springfield, Massachusetts, and comes face to face with the woman from his nightmares. The woman, Marcia Curtis, is shocked to see in Peter personality traits and characteristics that precisely recall those of her dead husband, Jeff, including his voice. Peter meets and falls in love with Marcia’s daughter, Ann, just as Marcia realizes that he is a reincarnation of Jeff. Will a second tragedy occur just as Peter is about to unravel the mystery behind his dreams?"

Though, probably not the same precise storyline as the novel, I think the premise could make for an interesting collaboration.

The Intern

Something with Political Intrigue, and an intern who's more than she appears to be; sent to sexually entrap a Senator for Political gain, however receives more than she bargains for. Could be dark, as in revenge/consequences for the Intern, or turn into them working together towards a greater purpose.

The man of her nightmares:

She'd met him at a college party. She hadn't really wanted to go, but her friends teased her and told her she'd never meet a guy if she never went out. So in the end she went, and was glad she did.

He was a little older, maybe too old to be there, but she didn't care. He was different from the other 'boys', the ones who just wanted to get her drunk and sleep with her. He was mature and funny and charming and made her feel good.

Still, she couldn't help wondering, out of all the girls at the party, why would he be interested in her? Not that she wasn't attractive, she was. She was just a little shy and didn't show off her body or act slutty like the others.

Why her?

(Closed for now)

The Tease

She was known as the Tease, but that's he what he always called a woman who refused to sleep with him, but in this case he was right. She knew she was attractive, and she loved to flaunt and taunt. Usually, he'd take things into his own hands, but this time there was a problem. She just happened to be his boss. If only he could find a way to turn the tables, what with the business convention coming up and all. The entertainment at those things was always so boring, he'd love for her to become the main attraction.

Partners In Depravity

Our own take on the Ian Brady/Myra Hindley serial killer partnership.  The relationship between the two of them, and how they become a partnership, as well as their depraved acts. Would require a female partner to play as a joint protagonist with my character. I have a concept of this being a group roleplay - initially commencing as a 'one-on-one', where the relationship is developed between the two main characters, then opening it up to others (one at a time) to join in and play as one of their 'victims'.

Internet Killers - In Discussion

He was a thirty-something security consultant, highly intelligent and  respected by his peers. She was a twenty-something college student, bright and attractive, your typical girl next door. He was a closet psychopath. She had a dangerous kink. He fantasised about raping, torturing and killing young women. She got off to seeing others in pain. They met in an underground chat-room. She issued him a challenge. Did he have the balls, or was he all talk? That was how it began.

  I'm in the mood to unleash my dark side, and write something violent, misogynistic, and depraved. Whilst I expect the interactions between the two main characters to, at times, be mentally and physically violent, both sexually and non-sexually, I am looking for a fellow protagonist, not a 'Villain/Victim' relationship. Not for the squeamish, I envisage this being  a Richard Laymon-esque serial killer/slasher movie parody,  along the lines of 'Natural Born Killers', on steroids, but with more character development/plot, and quite an amount of dark humour. Depraved, but fun, and light-hearted at times. Many kinks and acts of perversion are on the table in service of the story, depending on limits. I've a lot of ideas of where it could go, and how it could work, and am open to suggestions.

Snow White and the Seven Perverts

The concept I have is for a long-term play, with separate chapters based/themed on the name of each dwarf. Bear in mind that what's below is just a rough draft. If anyone is interested, I'm sure we could brainstorm, and tailor it to better match both of our kinks.  Of course the chapter order isn't set either. Because I've been asked when I had this idea up before, my original idea to play the perverts as normal sized males, but hey, if you really want dwarfs, I'm amenable to it.


Chapter 1 –Sleepy, anything but a prince
Snow White awakes to receive her first inkling that the Evil Queen may not be so bad after all

Chapter 2 – Doctor, Doctor
Snow White is instructed on the rules of the house and prescribed her medicine 

Chapter 3 – Snow White gets Grumpy
Snow White discovers what happens when she disobeys the rules

Chapter 4 – A Dopey Night in
                  Drugs work better than chains

Chapter 5 - Happy times
                Snow White receives a reward

Chapter 6 - A Bashful excursion
                Snow White entertains at the local tavern (It could also be a bashful/shy 'dwarf', where Snow White takes control of the situation)

Chapter 7 –Sneezy shares Snow White  (and Snow White!)
                 A cocaine-fuelled night of debauchery, and sharing

An Epic Fairy-tale adventure

Goldilocks has came of age, and in her desperation to escape the evil clutches of her widowed Step-father, and his plans of betrothal - to him - she leaves her cottage in the dead of night. Tired and hungry, she breaks into an empty house, usually occupied by a Father and his two son’s, the Bears. On her discovery, and on hearing the story of the young woman, a plan is hatched to keep young Goldie on as a household maid. From there, begins a tale of sexual initiation and high-adventure, as the four protagonists undertake a perilous quest to save all those other Fairy-Tale characters in need.

I have lots of ideas for this, and whilst most of the story would be written from the viewpoints of Goldilocks and the Three 'Bears', I am looking to delve into other Fairy-tale pairings, incorporating the writing of their stories, and putting our own unique spin on them. Filled with fun and adventure, it wouldn't, however, be all sunshine and roses, and I envisage it also containing dark elements, as any good Fairy-Tale should, with some characters-in-peril being saved by our dynamic foursome, and others meeting a bad end, possibly at our protagonists hands. As well as a multitude of different sexual themes and kinks, for instance, as we perhaps, pose some of the following questions, or others of similar ilk;

Just how close were Hansel and Gretel, and was their punishment deserved?
Why was Jack's crown broken, and who was responsible; Jill, before she came tumbling down? Is there something we have been told about what happened on that there hill?
What's the best method for an attractive woman to distract a giant from Beanstalk surveillance?
How high a price will Goldie be prepared to pay, and in what currency, for her and her fellow traveler's to be allowed cross the Troll's bridge?
Is the wolf the only one to blow the Three Chauvinist Pigs, and if not, did the other do it willingly? Maybe he had reasonable justification for revenge?

Not to mention the possibilities offered up by Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, Rumpelstiltskin, and Little Red Riding Hood, to name a few others, however, please note none of the above is set in stone, or any scenarios I'm stuck on. They're all just random ideas, off the top of my head, intended to, hopefully, provide a better idea of the overall concept I'm looking to write, and I'm fully open to suggestions/changes/preferences within that overarching framework.

Of course, everyone would be aged up appropriately, and I'd also be looking to keep the characters human, or at least humanoid (such as with any troll or giant, etc) in appearance, with the fairy-tale designation being used a metaphor for personality and/or looks.

If anyone is attracted to in the basic premise, and/or helping me flesh it out, just shoot me a PM.

Plot bunnies

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
*A college student gains an internship at a Law Firm to take revenge on her sisters abusive ex boyfriend, except she gets more than she bargained for. Taken

*A female 'Mata Hari' type character, is sent into foreign territory to gain/seduce information from a foreign army general/politician. What happens when her motivations are discovered?

*A college student/work colleague with a grudge sets out to have sex with her Professor/Employer, in order to film it and ruin his career and marriage. After she succeeds there's only one thing left for him to live for. Revenge.

*A college jock and his friend/s use a younger girls crush to take advantage of her (thinking of a manipulation/seduction first-time threesome or more-some scenario for this one)

*A new girlfriend becomes the centre of a tug-of-war between two old friend. (seduction/consensual, but could go many other ways)

*College student is blackmailed and turned into a whore for her Dean's voyeuristic pleasure (pretty much as it says - mental more than physical force)

*A prominent defence lawyer takes on the case of a serial rapist, only to discover that the accused is the very same man who raped and left her for dead, years before.

Some notes on plotting:

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Being able to fully fleshed-out plots, or seeing others on threads that immediately spark my interest enough to approach, is not something that really works for me. A lot of that is down to me being a totally global thinker/learner, as opposed to linear or sequential, where my thought-process tends to differ from the majority. Without context, gained through communication, there's too many possible variables in regards to what overarching themes/dynamics the other is looking for the story to include, for me to gain a full comprehension, and make an informed decision on if we're on the same page.

Context is everything to me, and I really need to determine, in conjunction with a partner, what we're looking to write 'about' first, to not only gauge overall compatibility, but also to allow details in regards to what settings, characters and pairings would best suit the story/theme, to fall into place. In that sense, I generally like to develop a broad synopsis, such as a blurb you'd find on the back of the book first, then backfill from there. Attempting to work forward from a bare outline, pairing, starter post, or open-ended plots, without defined goals, purpose or direction (which can change naturally and morph into something completely different as the story progresses) causes my mind to remain in a state of perpetual motion, so consumed by the infinite possibilities, that it can't settle on any particular one.

My preference is to first open up the lines of communication with potentially compatible partners, with compatible overall preferences, and then discuss plot, as I think finding someone that you believe you'd work well together with, is the basis of a good long-term writing partnership, and once you have that, plots that one may already have an interest in writing can be tweaked to better suit both tastes, or an original scene developed anew, off the back of it.

Below are some examples of what I'm referring to in regards to more of a 'blurb', and what then enables my plotting creativity to kick into gear. These are plots I have played, or am currently playing, on BMR, so not particularly looking for partners for them now, however may possibly be open to taking up the same broad theme again on some. 


After being viciously raped and beaten by a small-town Sheriff's son, watched on by three of his friends, then having her accusations summarily dismissed, a devastated woman meets up with a damaged ex-army veteran, who kills to soothe his own emotional pain. A sweet romantic relationship forms between the duo as they embark on a murder-spree, together vowing to 'rid the world of its immoral scum,' and exact brutal revenge on her assailants, and those who stood by and did nothing.

Not So Snow White - A Parody

Jealousy is a curse. The Evil Queen, never one to accept second place, sets out to embarrass her daughter, and have her become the campus whore. Just think of all the money she can make. Luckily, she can keep her hands clean, and stay out of trouble, by having the Huntsman, Dean Hunter Forsythe, do the dirty work for her.

The Huntsman, left with no choice but to agree, decides to turn it to his own advantage, and have Snow sleep with 'specially selected' customers, and obtain the information he needs that will allow him to take over, and control, the Campus drug trade.

Snow will have to work her way up to the top of the food chain. In the mean-time she and the Huntsman will need to deal with Prince trying to befriend her, Bashful being lonely, and Grumpy stirring up trouble.

The Heiress and the Hacker

A man's attempt to reconnect with his adolescent love is complicated by class differences, the hatred of her wealthy Father, and his Head of Security's uncovering of the renewed relationship, who'll use that information for his own ends. Can they find a way to use their own discovery of her Father's secret perversions against him, so that they can be free, or will it all come crashing down around them?

A Royal Catastrophe

When the entire known British Royal Family (along with Elton John and Justin Beiber) is wiped out in a catastrophic catering accident at the wedding of Prince Harry, a war-mongering, Russian mob boss is next in line for the throne. That is, until the discovery of a possible descendant of a child borne by the, apparently mis-nomered, 'Virgin' Queen Elizabeth 1, living in America.

Now all Ben Roberts, MI6 special agent, needs to do is get Schuyler Lassiter to England for DNA testing, whilst being chased by the police and FBI, and avoiding the Russian Mob and rogue British agents who want her dead.

The Road To Fame

Set in the 1960's, an intentionally cliche-ridden, fun romp about the (mis)adventures of a small-time thief, on the run from the Law in his home state, and a down-on-her-luck Nightclub singer, intent on making her fame and fortune in Vegas, who team up and embark on a petty-crime spree throughout Nevada.

Unholy Conspiracy

In a Christian safe-house for women eighteen and up, residents are being systematically abused by those they've been raised to believe of as 'Men of God', whose words cannot be questioned, and where, contained in those words, the threat of Hell is ever present.

These safe-houses, dotted around the country, are condoned, even encouraged, at the higher levels of the church hierarchy. After all, if it's going to happen, best it happen to the 'dregs of society' rather than 'respectable' parishioners, whose claims of clerical abuse are more likely to be believed, and attract media attention. They've already had enough of that.

Pimped out, sold off, raped, abused, degraded, forced into pornography, and exchanged for political favours, the residents are trapped with nowhere to run, and no-one to trust; they don't dare. Except for one. Can she, in collusion with an Investigative journalist, bring the unholy mess to an end or will those in power discover the treachery, and like others before them, the duo simply be made to vanish into thin air?

Internet Killers

A psychopathic, sadistic serial-killer meets a woman on the dark web, who is aroused by the suffering of others, and, together they form a depraved, antagonistic partnership, involving rape, torture and murder.

Farewell, My Lovely

A happily married husband and wife's relationship is forever changed when a stalker, who first toys with his female victims from afar before ultimately raping and leaving them for dead, ups the stakes, and selects a couple as his next target.

« Last Edit: April 16, 2017, 08:11:33 PM by Mr Quixotic »

Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Re: A Quixotic Request Thread (M for F)
« Reply #2 on: August 22, 2016, 10:03:33 PM »
Writing Samples

I've been on BlueMoon for almost three years now, which is where these samples are taken from, and will hopefully help demonstrate the variety of themes and tones I enjoy writing, along with the different characters/personalities I can portray.

Internet Killers

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Norris' lips curled up into a tight smile as he led her towards the vehicle. "Yes, Juvenile, though it's to be expected, considering you're a dyke, and lack experience with men. Vulgar is our natural state." As to her question of whether it had turned him on, the rapist left that unanswered, aware of the conflict between any denial, and the erection he sported. Though that was mostly a product of his anticipation of the night's events, Pete wasn't about to provide Ms Helm with ammunition to call him a liar; that concern forgotten when his mind was distracted by rare misgivings.

He'd taken his previous victims in isolated areas, the first snatched off the side of the road, the second, followed down a dark, empty alley, and Whitney, alone in her own house, and the current plan caused Pete's skin to crawl with nervous tension. To hunt for prey in a crowded club was a different situation entirely, and he debated whether he should have issued Analise this particular challenge. Whilst arrogance and confidence left him in no doubt that he'd be able to recognise the moment she began to prove herself incapable, and allow him to withdraw before it was too late, what would that mean for their partnership?

For, despite his threats to carve her up and nail the woman's tits to his apartment wall, those were threats he didn't wish to be forced to follow through with. A living witness to his crimes was what he'd craved since he'd first begun to browse the dark-web, enhanced, and brought to possible reality by their meeting. A brief thought to locate an easier target had crossed his mind, however, he'd dismissed it, and decided this evening it was to be all or nothing. If Analise displayed the figurative balls to lure a victim in full view of a crowd to her certain and painful death, without hesitation and drawing unwanted attention, then she'd surely be capable of all else, and he could put further concerns to rest. One night, one chance to fully prove herself. Or not.

"Your, look-at-me, I'm not scared of being gutted like a fish, ego." The tension departed Pete when they entered the car which, like the man, was clean and organised, including the cache of perfectly legal hunting equipment and camping paraphernalia stored in the trunk. Out of sight and earshot of prying eyes and ears, he took the opportunity to enjoy Analise's company, barely speaking as she issued directions. That was until her hand landed on his thigh, adjacent to the hard-on encased in tight denim.

Glancing at her, he placed his hand over hers, and dragged her fingers over the fabric outlining the full length of his erect cock. "I hope you do better with women than you do men, Analise. What I really can't figure out is if you're putting on an act, or if you're honestly too fucking stupid to believe I wouldn't kill you in a heartbeat." Smiling, the man paid her a rare compliment. "I don't think you're stupid, in fact quite the opposite. However, remember one thing, your seduction games won't work on me as I'm not turned on by women who want their brains screwed out. Only those who don't." Peter gripped her wrist to tug her touch away but, simultaneously instructing him to take a right, she beat him to it. "

As the turn brought them close to their destination, Pete's shoulders stiffened, his body straightened, and blue eyes scanned the flashing neon signs of the clubs, and the throng of customers headed towards them in hopes of an evening to remember. For one, in particular, it certainly would be, but only if there was afterlife in which to recall the events.

The killer whispered as he drove into a parking lot, switching the headlights and ignition off when he turned into a space at the very rear, under a broken lamp, and focused his intense gaze on Analise. "One of them?" Inclining his head towards a group of twenty-something women, dressed to nine's in their club outfits, tight bodies on display underneath, and make-up enhancing their attractive features, Pete appraised them for a few moments, before his eyes flicked to a second group of women. "Or one of them?"

Gaze returning to his companion, Norris raised a questioning brow. "How does it feel, honey? Knowing that, by the end of the night, an innocent girl you've never met is going to be dead. Gone forever, her friends and loving parents devastated, any potential she possessed, gone with her. She could have have been the one to develop a cure for cancer, foil a terrorist attack, stop a school shooter, but we'll never know, will we? Because, in a few hours time, she'll be nothing but a raped, ravaged, piece of lifeless human flesh left to rot and be devoured by wild animals, and that will be your doing."

Unlatching his seatbelt, and opening the drivers side door, the killer's pupils shone bright with evil intent when he stepped out, and peered back in at his companion. "Ready to play God, Analise?"

Goldilocks And The Three 'Bears'

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The weasel shook like a leaf in Papa Bear's grasp, and his head bobbed up and down in agreement as Rupert whispered in his ear, and explained the way things were to be. It was easy to order a young woman around, but not such a simple task when faced with a man your own age, and twice your size. Jacob Slint was receiving an idea of how poor Goldilock's must have been made to feel, and it was obvious the man didn't enjoy it.
However, unlike Goldie, who'd mustered up the courage to defend herself, and denied being his possession - which had only furthered the Patriarch's admiration for the young woman - Jacob offered no resistance. Though Papa's words were rough, and so was the grip by which he held Slint, he was a gentle soul underneath, and had no intentions of maiming the man - if he even deserved to be thought of as such. He wasn't  one to cause hurt for hurt's sake, though that wasn't to say that putting the frighteners through Mr Slint didn't bring him any satisfaction. The wink and sly grin he shot the boys as they entered the house attested to that.
Walter and Edmund reached the door at the same time, and each emitted an 'oomph', as they became stuck half-in, half-out, of the entrance in their combined rush to be first. It took a few seconds for them to untangle their limbs from the others, with Edmund, the eldest, and strongest, gaining the advantage. He arrived at the room where Goldie was just in time to see the undergarments she held being slipped into the trunk. His eyes followed the movement of the lacy material, and he opened to his mouth to comment, but that turned into another 'oomph, as he felt an elbow dig into his ribs. He tilted his head, and the look on Walt's face, and way he appraised Goldie made it obvious that his sibling had noticed the same as he. The elder boy rolled his eyes, and shook his head, as if to scold his younger brother for an obvious lack of maturity, and moved further into the room. Just as she clicked shut the trunk, and stood to face them.
"What bath?" Walt's tone was one of confusion, as Edmund moved closer to the young woman.
The shyness with which she had spoken, and the way her cheeks blushed, made the elder boy smile. He completely ignored his sibling's query as he reached out and brushed her elbow with the pads of his fingertips. "Sure, the offer still stands. We'll stop and bathe in the river. That way you won't have to wait until we get all the way home." The images that brought to mind caused Walt to flick his gaze to her chest - the one which contained her clothes, of course, although he was also tempted to glance at the other - , and swallow down the lump which had suddenly formed in his throat, and momentarily forced him to stop talking. He couldn't help but imagine what she wore under the filthy dress. And what, exactly, she'd bathe in.
'What bath?" Walt asked again, but this time his tone contained more annoyance than confusion.
Before he could ask a third time, there came stomps on the floor, and Rupert popped his head through the entrance. He took in the scene, then focused his attention on Goldie. "Your step-father was very reasonable, and we've come to an agreement. You're free to stay with us as long as you want."
"See Goldie, we told you everything would work out. My papa never lies." Edmund's voice was filled with admiration, and he shot her a wide grin. At the same time the fingers which touched her elbow slid down the soft, warm skin of her arm to take hold of her hand. "Let's go".
Walt meanwhile stood there open-mouthed and stared at the two of them. He didn't move an inch as Edmund, with Goldilocks being gently dragged along with him, passed and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder. "Do something useful, and carry her trunk, will you".
Edmund's eyes raised to Papa's. "Goldie asked if we could stop on the way, so that she could bathe in the river. I told her we could, now that everything is okay. We can't make her walk all the way home as she is." That wasn't precisely what she'd said, but Edmund thought phrasing it as such would make it more difficult for Goldie to resist his  plan. And, his plan it was. He had no intention of asking his Father or brother to join in the fun. In fact, he hoped they could be convinced to continue the journey home whilst he spent the night by the river, 'bathing' with their new house-guest.
It wasn't until they'd almost made it to where Papa stood that he realised, in his enthusiasm, he hadn't even given a Goldie a chance to respond, or to see if she was ready to leave. He stopped so abruptly, that he stumbled, and his expression was one of nerves, and apology as his eyes came to rest on hers. "I mean, that's if you have everything you need, and you're ready?"
Papa chuckled at one son's actions as he watched another collect Goldie's trunk, and place it over one shoulder. Walt's pupils narrowed at his brother, and the look said that whatever Edmund had in mind,  he wasn't to be allowed to get away with it. Not if Walt had any say in the matter.
"Are you ready, Goldie?" The Patriarch stepped inside to give her shoulder a reassuring pat. "If so, just follow me, your Step-Father won't cause us any trouble."

I've Come To Stare. You Want Me To Stare?

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Jensen could feel it. The adrenaline surging through his body, and the power. That sensation of having control and adulation. Ever since he was a child, he'd been the one to talk loudest, do the daring and dangerous stunts, and take risks that the other kids wouldn't. All to impress, and be the centre of attention. That's why he'd eventually gotten into the club scene. So that he could have a bevy of gorgeous young women at his beck and call. Women who would follow his orders and do whatever he wished. Women who feared him, and his power. As much as he'd wanted Jinx, cared for her and, in his own way, even loved her, those emotions weren't strong enough to over-ride his need to be the man. One who demanded respect and subservience from those beneath him.

And the slut had disrespected him by spreading her legs for Parker Kane. Now she was to face the consequences. This wasn't only about Jinx, but also every other dancer in the club, and any who may work there in the future. They'd hear the story, they'd hear what he'd done. How he'd fucked a virgin stripper in full view of the audience, and ripped away what was precious to her, simply because she had disobeyed his wishes. No-one would dare do that again. No-one. Sacrificing Jinx to ensure that happened was a hefty price to pay, but Jensen had no choice. His pride demanded it be paid.

His erection grew as he pulled her head up by the hair, and saw the knowledge in her expression, that yes, he was going to go through with it. Jensen was going to make her suck his cock, and then he was going to fuck her. Right here, in full view of a hundred screaming and cheering men, all of whom would be wishing they could be in his place. He'd never experienced what it was like to perform on stage, as the girls did, removing their clothes in front of adoring customers, but he began to sense a little of how it must feel. He was the centre of attention, like he'd hadn't been in years, and he realised why some of the girls kept coming back. Why they became addicted to performing, and couldn't give the game away.

Like the whore on her knees in front of him who, at that moment, had no idea that after he humiliated her, he'd rip away the opportunity to keep feeding her addiction as well. He knew every club owner in the city, and none of them would dare employ her without his approval. After he threw her out on the street, she wouldn't be dancing again. Not for hundreds of fawning, pussy-whipped men. Men who screamed for her attention, and showered her with money and gifts. Men whose glazed eyes evidenced how much they wanted her. How much they needed her. After tonight, the bitch would have to go cold turkey, and Jensen wasn't sure which would hurt most. That, or the humiliation he was about to put her through.

Although he'd wanted to ravage Jinx for so long, this moment wasn't so much about the sex, and feeling her tight, no-longer-virgin pussy clamped around his cock, than it was about revenge. "That's right Jinx, after this it will be different. You have no fucking idea". Raimi spat the words out, then gasped as he tugged her head forward and her tongue slid up his shaft. His eyes narrowed, and darkened. "Suck it, slut", He didn't give her a chance to refuse as he thrust his hips forward, and slammed his entire length in her mouth.

The next fifteen minutes were a blur. Afterwards, Jensen Raimi would have no real memory of the detail. Just snippets here and there; the cacophony of noise; every bouncer in the club lined up at the front of the stage to stop it from being stormed; grown men, in business suits and ties, jeering like rowdy children watching a school yard fight. He would later recall how his hand ripped at her hair, and his balls slapped her chin as he fucked her mouth. That, from somewhere, a table from the floor had been thrown on the stage, and a chant had gone up from the crowd, "Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her". That he'd slammed Jinx face-down on the table, and fucked her without mercy, and left scratches on her skin and bruises on her thighs.

It was only when he'd released his seed deep inside her, and his breath slowed, that the arena came back into focus. Men stood and applauded as he placed one hand on Jinx's head, and shoved her cheek down onto the cold wood, so that he could withdraw his cock and move to his feet. The crowd quietened. With the young stripper splayed out, face-down, her skin bruised and marked, and cum leaking from her pussy, Jensen whispered. "Goodbye Jinx"

Then he raised his voice, and motioned to the security staff. "Get the bitch out of here, and make sure she never comes back".

The club owner didn't even so much as glance over his shoulder as he walked back to the office, and two muscled bouncers - four times Jinx's size - each grabbed an arm, and dragged her away. "You heard the boss". The audience parted like the Red Sea to allow them through, and thirty seconds later Jinx was thrown out onto the street, the club doors slammed shut behind her.

The Heiress and the Hacker -

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With his arms on Lexi's shoulders, Richard gritted his teeth in anger at whatever circumstances had caused the tears to fall. The sight elicited an inner-rage that almost led to the Hacker, despite his expressed fears, to impulsively stream through the closed door to confront Blair Huntington, and demand their freedom. However, common-sense swiftly overrode emotion, and Richard gently wiped a tear gently from her cheek with his thumb, and followed her lead to the window. "I'm fine Lexi, it was you I was worried about, what happened?" He locked his intense blue eyes on her for a moment, wondering what she had meant in regards to Karl's capabilities, then shook his head, and pushed curiosity to the back of his mind. Maybe he didn't want to know?

When he turned his attention to their current predicament, it took only a moment to recognise that the only way down was the way he'd come up, and he moved swiftly to stave off second thoughts. Immediately scooping Lexi up in his arms, he pulled her head against his chest, pressed his lips to her hair, nuzzling Lexi and whispering, "Hold on tight, don't look down," before he gripped the vine, stepped over the sill, and began their descent. A short time later, muscles in his arms aching and legs quivering like jelly, he placed Lexi down safely down on Terra Firma, and stared up at the mansion's open window. "This isn't over." Richard addressed Blair Huntington in a tone of quiet determination, and barely restrained anger, then focused on Lexi.

He slipped his arm around her waist, and attempted to keep his lover's spirits up, and her thoughts off the possibility of capture, as he guided them, like thieves through the night, across Huntington's estate. "Almost there, then we'll find a place to lay low, and figure out our next move. A hotel should be safe for tonight." As for subsequent nights? Richard mulled over the requirement for new identification, but thought it best not to remind Lexi that from the moment she'd accompanied him out the window, life for both of them had incontrovertibly changed. "Together, at last."

The sensation that at any moment the area could be lit up, trapping them like deer caught in the headlights, and their bid for freedom ended before it had barely begun, dissipated only once they'd exited through the Manor gates. The illuminated city below was large enough to lose themselves in.


As the Heiress and the Hacker made their escape, Sophie Scott's ordeal continued. The teenager remained bound, with hands cuffed above her head, and what remained of the school-girl uniform ripped and tattered, except for the knee-length white socks, and shoes, which only served to continue to contrast the true innocence of the eighteen-year-old against the depravity taking place.


"Listen to her, she fucking loves it, can't get enough."

"Spread those legs for me, bitch."

"Gonna cum for us again."

"Fucking cock-whore, that's all you're good for, isn't it. Taking cock?

It was as impossible to define whose voice was whose, as it was to distinguish who fucked her in which hole, as the men attempted to elicit further orgasms from Sophie to prove the truth of their words. Stranger after stranger, too numerous to count, took his turn with the Co-ed. Her body was twisted and contorted with the force of one shoving his meat in her cunt and ferociously ravaging her sopping slit, as another pounded her tight teen ass, and a third used her mouth.

One would shoot his load, and quickly be dragged away to be replaced by the next. Her butt glowed a bright red from the harsh spankings she received, as did her tits, which were unceasingly groped, squeezed, and pinched, and sweat and cum coated the girl's skin. All for the amusement of the great Blair Huntington, who sat like a King upon his throne in the middle of the theatre, barking out commands, and captured for posterity by Adam Levine, jerking off as he filmed the violation of his 'girlfriend'.

Not So Snow White -

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Stuart Thomson had viewed a lot of pornography in his young life; a lot; and in each and every one of the video's, the women had revelled in being treated like a piece of meat, and called every name under the sun. Slut, whore, bitch, tramp, hussy and more that he couldn't even recall. From their reactions, and expression on their faces, as the men - often more than one - issued their orders, and forced them to their knees to insult and degrade them, before they then bent them over, whipped their asses, pulled on their hair, and fucked them, cuffed, bound and at the male's complete and utter mercy, it appeared to be every woman's fantasy come true. Those men, to Stuart, were the epitome of what a 'Dom' should be.

 Obviously the poor boy was a little confused, and unaware of the vast difference between Gonzo porn, and a Dominant, or that the women on screen were actresses, and the screaming, writhing orgasms; the likes of which Stuart had never elicited from a girl; were in fact, faked. Luckily for Sofia White, although not the sharpest tool in the shed, Stuart hadn't been denied every last vestige of common sense, and was somewhat cognisant of the possible effects of his own inexperience. He couldn't risk harming Sofia, and having her found unconscious, or worse, in his dorm-room. That would not reflect positively on Delta Tau Chi, and could well see him excommunicated. He'd need to take it carefully, but that wasn't an issue, as she'd stated this wouldn't be their first and last time. There was always the next for both to look forward to.

That he was already on the right track was evidenced by the raven-haired woman's reaction to his authoritative voice when the door clicked behind her, and it elicited a smile from her new 'Dom'. As did her acknowledgement of his importance in the Fraternity hierarchy, and the touch of her fingers which brought goose-bumps to his skin, and a shiver to his spine. "That's right." Stuart's chest puffed out as he followed her gaze to the paddle and handcuffs; the wrist bands the last thing on his mind at that moment; then turned back to her with a cocky smirk pasted across his features. "I can have any girl I want now, and I got myself the hottest piece of ass on Campus." Just because she was his toy for the night, didn't mean she wasn't worth a compliment.

He grinned and took a step forward, then stopped as her words reverberated in his ears, "Are you ready for me to be your slut?" The girl was really getting into it, and Stuart nodded and squirmed at the sensation of his jeans tightening around the crotch as his gaze dropped to the sight of Sofia's fingers commencing to undo her pants. He gulped, and stood as though entranced, until a lightning bolt struck him. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work; he was meant to be in control! Suddenly, with his burgeoning erection forgotten for the moment, Stuart's arm snaked out, and he gripped an elbow. "Did I tell you to get naked yet?"

He raised an eyebrow, quite proud of the commanding tone he'd managed to convey, and shook his head. "No, I didn't. You gonna be my slut, you need to learn to do what you're told. Got it?" It was a rhetorical question really, as he released her arm and motioned to the floor without allowing Sofia time to respond. "On your knees, and......." The boy's mouth flapped open and closed, and his pupils widened, as with green orbs locked on Sofia's, words failed him. What the fuck did he do now? He licked his lips, and his Adam's apple bobbed as his gaze flicked uncertainly around the room. Confidence was restored when his eyes lit upon his implements, and when he turned back, he released his grip on her arm, and lifted a hand to point. "You need to be spanked. Fetch that paddle, and bring it to me."

He then stepped to the two-seat sofa, turned it to provide a full view of the room, smiled at the woman, and completed his instructions as he dropped into his seat. "Between your teeth. And remove the top, I want to see your tits."  Stuart Thomson was starting to get the hang of this domm-ing thing, and could only hope that Sofia was enjoying herself nearly as much, as  with new-found composure, he waited for his command to be obeyed.


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Zai's cheerful good-humour and repartee had Kyle grinning like an idiot all the way back to the highway, and beyond. It was a treat to see her emerging from her shell and becoming a woman, proud of her femininity and attractiveness again. At least that's how Kyle perceived it; that he was seeing a different side to Azairah D'Amici, and possibly one that had been displayed to very few others.

That her charm, wit and sensuality contrasted against the murder she'd so viciously perpetrated in the forest, evidenced by the blood-smeared features and crimson stained dress, was not contemplated by Kyle as it may have been by others. You could be a cold-blooded, brutal killer, and simultaneously be a desirable woman. It all depended on perspective, and who was deserving of seeing which aspects of your personality. Kyle had viewed a number of Zai's and looked forward to even more. He wanted to know her completely, and for there to be no secrets between them. Along with the sweet sound of her voice, and the entrancing laugh, those internal contemplations caused him to feel content on the journey to the Motel, and not speak about the details of what had occurred. He was caught up in his own world.

It must have been the cooler night air, which caused his brain to switch modes, or the profile of Azairah viewed through the window that mingled with the image of an Angel he'd seen as she walked towards him in the forest, and the Army veteran realised he'd never felt as he did with Zai with any other woman. Not even Amy. That had been love, but a love ignited simply by physical attraction and base carnal desires, which had quickly burnt out in his absences, and left naught but charred remains when he returned from Afghanistan.

However, with Azairah D'Amici, he sensed an infinitely deeper connection was possible; that which was granted to so few, and mocked by so many. A soul-mate. In mind, and in body, for Kyle couldn't deny that, for the first time since the destruction of his marriage, he'd begun to consider sexual intimacy. But, for the moment, that only lingered in the back of his brain, and what was most important was Zai's emotional well-being. That's what led to his question.

The concern carried in his expression and tone was evident, as Kyle had swiftly decided that, although he'd meant the words of sacrifice he'd spoken before, this was the true make-or-break time for he and Azairah, and that sent a jolt of fear through his entire body. If she'd displayed hesitation, regret, remorse or blame, he'd have departed in the dead of night, leaving her to deal with the pain of his betrayal, but with his conscience clear that he'd cause no greater agony. Even if her choice of words had been ambiguous, he may have well done the same, however, thankfully, the question of how both would have handled that, and what would have become of them, was one that would never require an answer when she responded in the manner that he'd so fervently hoped for.

The man's eyes brimmed with tears, and he nuzzled his cheek against her hand when she scooted over and touched him. "Thanks, Zai. I wanted to make sure, for my own piece of mind." Those softly spoken, almost sad, words were the only ones he uttered before he lightly kissed her palm, forced a small smile, and headed towards the check-in office. When he arrived, his full cheer had returned, and Kyle then called out, "However, if you don't plan on doing anything perverted to me, I may as well get two rooms," over his shoulder, before disappearing through the door.

He'd parked the vehicle under a broken light so that his passenger would be out of sight, and as opposed to her, Kyle's body and clothing displayed no evidence of their brutal crimes, so obtaining a room was a breeze, and Kyle swiftly returned with the key. The accommodations were small and cluttered, as he'd envisaged they would be, with just the one bed, and a bathroom off to the side, but at least the room was clean and comfortable enough. "Go on, wash that blood off if you must. I'm sure this won't be the last time I get to see it, and we wouldn't want any of the men from the bar getting as worked up as I over the sight. Or am I the only male who appreciates how sexy it is?"

Kyle winked, and then, when she entered the bathroom, headed back outside to appraise his truck. The bull bar was coated in hair and blood, and scraps of flesh from the brunette, and the undercarriage was sure to be worse, but it wasn't noticeable in the darkness unless you peered closely, and Kyle concluded that if anyone came to inspect the vehicle during the night, that would be the end of them, regardless. They'd find a hose in the morning and wash the remaining trash down the drain, where it belonged, amongst its sewage brethren.

By the time Zai was ready, he'd changed into a pair of jeans and a buttoned up blue and white shirt, which didn't come anywhere near to matching the class of the woman who'd be accompanying him. "Damn.' Kyle wolf-whistled again, and allowed his eyes to roam Zai's form. "Red definitely is your colour," he grinned as he approached to gently grasp her elbow. "Let's go have some fun."

A Royal Catastrophe

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Watching the machine gun turret slowly turn towards them, Ben was in a quandary of exactly how to make it to their destination without being shredded to pieces, when Sky grabbed his arm. Bullets ricocheted around them, and there didn't appear to be a clear path, even if they continued to ziz-zag. Then he noted their one opportunity, however, Sky had beaten him to it, and before he could open his mouth, she'd already commenced to drag them towards the opened doors of the elevator; a slug furrowing his scalp as the metal doors closed behind them. "Fuck, that was a little." Weapon in hand, he urged the car to move faster, and checked himself in the mirrored rear wall patted down his newly-parted hair, and forced a smile when he turned to face Schuyler. "Hair-raising."

The joke intended to calm the woman before they exited on the top floor, and were once more in the midst of a war zone, the Spy swiftly realised it hadn't really been required. Sky seemed to be even more composed than he was, and a quick-thinker to boot. Nodding as she spoke, and keeping one eye on the floor numbers flashing past on the LED display, his full attention was soon drawn to her. 'What the fuck?" Shaking his head, the man's eyes followed her movements, even at a time like this, lingering on the revealed cleavage a moment longer than was totally appropriate, before he refocused on her face, and gripped Schuyler's shoulder. "Are you kidding me?"

His expression changed when the elevator bell dinged; it wasn't like he had a better plan. "What the hell, it just might work." Hardly able to believe he'd said that, the doors opened, leaving him no chance to regret it before he jumped out, and called back over his shoulder. "You better not die when I'm just beginning to like you. And don't forget those valuable assets now belong to the United Kingdom."

Rushing forward, Ben missed Sky's shedding of her trench-coat, but not the group of rebels eyes widening, and pupils opening in shock, and some other, more lustful expression, as he allowed his legs to buckle under him. The MI6 agent's ass hit the floor, and forward momentum drove his feet into the knees of two men, sending them tumbling like bowling pins. Once through, and clear on the other side, he backflipped to his feet, and left Sky to deal with the rest.

"Shit." Spotting the barrel of a gun aimed directly at his head, the Spy immediately hit the floor again, this time initiating a forward triple-somersault, and a slug whizzed in the air where Ben's brain would have been, simultaneously as he slammed his head into the man's stomach, eliciting a surprised groan, and sent him catapulting over the railing. A scream following all the way behind him, until it abruptly stopped when his body impacted the ground floor with enough force to break every bone. However, the spy didn't pause to witness the landing.

Instead, as the man fell, he'd slipped the knife from the scabbard on his belt, turned, twisted, and hurled it end over end, impaling the heart of the ninja who stood on the skids of the helicopter. The Russian's death throes caused his finger to jam on the trigger of his weapon, and shoot a hail of bullets into the air, before he fell forward, and hung upside down off the skids, suspended by one foot. He was the last, and with the path cleared, Ben's instinctual reaction was to stop and assist Sky behind him, but as he turned to do so, the Helicopter pilot, obviously aware of their intent, began to lift the aircraft towards the roof line. Five or ten seconds and it'd be out of his reach, so she'd need be left to her own devices.

Certain, at least, that Schuyler remained alive, by the banter he heard, he could only think, "at least they didn't call her a hooker", before sprinting towards the chopper. No gymnastics on this occasion. As soon as he gained leverage, Ben clambered up, avoiding the boot that attempted to stomp his fingers, hooked the man's ankle with one arm, and dumped him on his ass, then entered the cockpit, and planted a bullet in his head. At that precise moment an explosion ripped through the air.

His heart sunk, and Ben was consumed with a sense of failure, as his gaze searched for what remained of Schuyler Lassiter. Flames and amputated limbs shot out from a cloud of smoke, and he consoled himself with the fact that at least she'd gone painlessly, and taken a few with her. Then, a female voice split the air, screaming his name, and a huge smile broke out on his face. He should have known she wouldn't have gone that easily. However, his pleased expression swiftly dissipated when he noted her precarious location, and the throng of machine-gun wielding thugs remaining on the lower floors.

There was no way he could both retain control of the chopper and run to her aid, so he scanned the area to find a solution. "Hang on Sky, I've an idea." Ben's gaze landed on the dead Russian hanging off the skid. Acting swiftly, he removed the knife embedded in his chest, sliced at the man's clothing, then kicked him over the edge, met Sky's eyes, and tossed the leather harness, attached to a thick nylon rope, he'd been wearing, in her direction, expertly landing it two inches away. "Clamber into that," he screamed over the cacophonous noise of the rotors, and glanced over his shoulder. "And hurry." Two dark specks had appeared on the horizon, headed towards them.

All Ben could hope as he ensured his end of the rope was securely fastened to the frame of the chopper, then dropped into the pilot's chair, placed his hand on the throttle, and began to raise the aircraft higher, in order to facilitate their escape before further company arrived, was that Sky's dance training incorporated climbing practice. Or she'd be left dangling in the air, like a worm at the end of a fisherman's hook, until he could dare stop to assist. At least the two disparate groups of assailants were now apparently too occupied shooting at each other that it appeared they'd momentarily forgotten their real quarry. Fucking amateurs!

The Road To Fame

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
The Middle Of Nowhere was Duane 'Duke' Reynolds ultimate destination and it had taken him two months cross-country to arrive. Wanted by Police on the East Coast  for Bank Robbery, plus by two ex-girlfriends for misdemeanours best left unmentioned, the twenty-eight year thief and con-man had decided to escape, and lay low for a while.

Damn Elmer had fired a shot on the last job, and it had sent everything to hell. Duke had been the getaway driver, and as a man who'd prefer to charm people out of their money - or ladies out of their panties - rather than one who condoned the use of violence unless necessary,  the moment he'd recognised the sound of gunfire, he'd stamped his foot on the gas, forgot about his chunk of the takings, and got the hell out of Dodge. He briefly called into the apartment he shared with his current flame, kissed her on the cheek, said he'd be back in a day or two, then collected every possession he owned, kissed her again, hopped into the battered Buick, and didn't stop driving until he'd crossed the State line.

Whether Elmer had talked, and Duke's name and face really did adorn the Post Office Wanted posters, and authorities were on his tail, he couldn't be certain, but in twenty years of  thieving and scamming, it was the first occasion on which Duke had even come close to being apprehended, and it had put the frightener's through him. Why the fuck had he agreed to a bank-job? Better safe than sorry, he concluded; the bankroll he'd built up was large enough for him to maintain the good life for the foreseeable future,  and it was time to go on the straight and narrow.

That vow to remain on the straight and narrow lasted less than an hour after crossing into Pennsylvania, where he pulled into the Roadside Diner, driving the battered grey Buick, and exited behind the wheel of a late model, white 1955 Ford Thunderbird. One which was no longer white, but a dusty brown, covered in tumbleweeds, dirt and dust, with dead bugs smearing the windscreen when, seven weeks later, he entered the town of Reddell. A town that Duane found wasn't even on the map after he came to a stop between a sign advertising 'The Reddell Hotel'  on one side of the road,  and a second offering 'Board and Lodging' on the other. Perfect. If this wasn't the Middle of Nowhere, it was within spitting distance of it.

Duane stepped from the vehicle, and groaned and stretched his legs as he  collected a suitcase from the trunk. With the sun having set, the day had cooled, but his throat was still parched  and he licked his lips in anticipation of a cold beer. "Nightly performances by World Famous Stars." Duke chuckled at the sign placed outside the hotel;  probably some failed Vegas performer playing the piano....badly; then turned his attention to the Boarding House.

Thirty minutes after being greeted by the geriatric, wheelchair bound and toothless hostess, and having paid for a week's lodging in advance after discovering that he was the only guest - not exactly a surprise - Duane had showered the dust of his six foot tall, slim and athletic frame,  run a comb through short, curly brown hair, shaved his five o'clock shadow, and appraised the accommodations with bright green eyes.  Better than it had appeared from the outside; the room was small, but nicely furnished, with a double-bed, oak dresser/mirror combination, a writing desk, and attached bathroom. According to the owner, there was also a telephone downstairs, he was free to make use of. Not that Duane planned talking to anyone.


"What's the matter, never seen a suit?" Duke raised a brow at the men who stared at him as he entered the Reddell Hotel, dressed in a charcoal and dark gray pinstripe number, accompanied by a black pork-pie hat, and polished wing-tips. He held one man's gaze until the stranger averted his eyes, followed by the others around him. Men, all attired in filthy jeans and checkered shirts, or grease-stained bibs and overalls, wearing dirty beards, bedraggled hair,  and the look of farmers, truck-drivers, or those who worked with their hands for a living. No women in this Hotel.

Whatever the response, if any, went unheard, as Duane turned to the bar, threw a ten dollar bill on the counter, ordered a beer, and naturally assumed that the appearance of a stranger, especially a well-dressed stranger, was the reason behind the sudden air of increased excitement. Until:

"You've been a bad, bad boy
I'm gonna take my time, so enjoy"

"There's no need to feel no shame
Relax and sip upon my champagne

'Cause I wanna give you a little taste
Of the sugar below my waist, you nasty boy"

The amber fluid spilt over the edge of his glass, as Duane's head shot around and his eyes alighted on the stage. Duke almost fell over, and it wasn't from the risque lyrics, but from the woman whose lips they'd come from.  She may not have been a world famous performer, at least not one that Duane Reynolds recognised, but she also definitely wasn't some ugly old woman. The man's gaze appraised the singer's attractive features, then ran down her body to take in the red dress, and what lay under it. His lips curled up into a smile at the realisation that this town was quickly turning out to be much more interesting than he'd imagined.

The thief ignored the catcalls and whistles emitted by the crowd of males, and screams for him to get out of the fucking way, as he stepped away from the bar, and approached a table closer to the stage. Duke lifted his beverage to his mouth, took a long gulp, then sat down to appreciate the singer's assets. Nice cleavage was the first thought that popped into his mind. That her necklace could be worth a pretty penny was his second. The man allowed his gaze to linger on her body for a few seconds before he shifted his focus to the performer's face, tipped his hat, and shot her his most charming smile. Duane Reynolds wouldn't knock back the opportunity for a little taste of sugar if it were on offer.

« Last Edit: February 16, 2017, 05:31:03 AM by Mr Quixotic »

Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Links To Thread Stories

Active - BMR
The Heiress And The Hacker - SilvaMoon
A Royal Catastrophe - Malicious Lullaby
Internet Killers - DovaKitten
A Wolf In Sheep's Clothing; When Predator Becomes Prey - Xanaphia
Adam and Eve - Aurelia

Active - Elliquiy
Infidelity - Story Tale

Inactive/On Hiatus - remain open, as partners keen to return if real-life ever allows them the time.
The Road To Fame - Sumi

Other/Previous Long-term thread stories
Farewell, My Lovely - Xanaphia (Fully Completed Story)
Goldilocks and the Three 'Bears' - Cyanide Disaster (Indefinite Hiatus, hoping real-life will eventually allow my partner to return)
The Manor - Malicious Lullaby (After nine months, Mali and I decided to move on to another, more action-orientated story)
Hyde And Seek - Ariamella (Indefinite Hiatus; a possibility we might pick back up at some stage)
Unholy Conspiracy - Xanaphia (Great in concept, but extremely difficult to realise in roleplay, so Xana and I moved on to a new scene)
Scaremonger - Lait (Uncertain of status; likely dead)
Not So Snow White - Aurelia (Partner and I decided it had run its race and to move onto another story)[/spoiler]
« Last Edit: March 13, 2017, 10:39:43 PM by Mr Quixotic »

Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Without a lot of posting history on Elliquiy, and having had to take a long hiatus due to family reasons not long after joining, added Links to current stories on BlueMoonRoleplay to provide those interested a better idea of my writing style, and commitment to long-term stories.
« Last Edit: December 13, 2016, 07:58:00 PM by Mr Quixotic »

Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Marked 'Curiosity Killed The Cat' Plot as taken
Revised first post and introduction
Updated writing samples, and current story statuses
« Last Edit: February 15, 2017, 05:01:21 PM by Mr Quixotic »

Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Added 'Infidelity' plot
Re-opened 'Curiosity Killed the Cat'
« Last Edit: March 13, 2017, 10:45:36 PM by Mr Quixotic »

Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Marked Infidelity plot as taken
Marked Internet Killers plot as in discussion
Updated current story statuses and links

Online Mr QuixoticTopic starter

Monthly bump.