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Author Topic: Detailed Plots, story or smut-driven, non-con, blackmail, BDSM, etc.  (Read 2553 times)

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Offline EgoisteTopic starter

Hello, and welcome to my request thread. The games you’ll find here have a much darker and more erotic focus than those in my other threads and most center around non-con, dub-con, blackmail, coercion, bondage, domination, and slavery - among other things. If you‘re looking for games with a greater focus on character and story you may wish to check out my other requests instead; just click the relevant link buttons below.

   I’m looking for people who want a relaxed and casual approach to role-playing - where our mutual enjoyment is the primary goal - who find my games and stories interesting. The ability to make every post a masterpiece is not required, and my take on post-length is very flexible - in fact I’m generally happy to adapt my style to my partners - although decent grammar and spelling is a plus. I’m always up for talking to potential partners, and I do enjoy working out plots and characters with prospective partners. Moreover I’m always happy to read over any story ideas you care to send me, or collaborate on something from scratch. Lastly, for the sake of convenience, I’ll include a direct link to my O&Os to provide a summary of my likes and dislikes, but if you wish to know more you should click the relevant link button below.

Simply click the relevant link for more information about each game, but bear in mind while I tend to include a lot of detail for my original ideas you need not feel limited by this. My introductions exist to give you a feel for the game's proposed tone, or to provide a look at certain characters not to irrevocably establish details about them or the story in general. I consider the details to be entirely negotiable, and everything is open to suggestion and modification based on your ideas. I enjoy collaborations and love working with a partner although I also plan to add a section for plot hooks made up of less specific ideas to this thread as well for those who favour less detailed plots.

The Stepford Syndrome A young journalist (or broadcaster, depending on your preference), always on the lookout for odd news and gossip, hears about a town with a most unusual quality. It seems social convention here has taken more than a few steps backwards: the women giggle and flirt like school girls, and if they're not pregnant or doing house work they're always made up and well dressed, while men seem to rule the roost, and nobody ever complains, or so they say. Of course she can't believe it's really like this, but it might be worth investigating. After talking to several people whose relatives or friends were either travelling through the town or staying nearby and who never came back her enquiries take a more sinister turn. Later some of them sent letters or called but only to say they had relocated permanently. Often after getting married, usually with a child on the way. She could not help wondering what was behind this and felt certain it could make a good story. Setting out to investigate (determined to track some of these young women down to get a better idea of what made them stay) she finds the town exactly as described, but though retrograde the locals all seem welcoming enough, and - as reported - nobody there seems unhappy, nor does anyone there wish to leave. There is a fairly simple - albeit rather shocking - reason for all of this., and if she isn‘t careful in her attempts to discover the truth she may become the latest in a long line of young women who suddenly and inexplicably decide to stay in Point Pleasant forever.

First Time Slave, First Time Owner A straightforward plot involving a young woman being introduced to the flesh trade. Of course she finds it all rather unsettling and disturbing being kidnapped without warning, unable to think of a motive, and wondering, while helplessly made captive, why her, and most of all what would happen next. Though she wasn’t mistreated directly, and was made fairly comfortable this did little to temper her outrage, yet only a few days pass before she finds herself transported to what appears to be a private home with a handful of other captive young women. Here she finally receives an explanation, but it only heightens her indignant outrage. They are all going to be sold, auctioned - like mere commodities. Why, or who will be bidding no-one tells her, and while she is able to overhear the bidding itself she still has no idea who has purchased her - though the reason why is beginning to become a little clearer.

A Little Blackmail This plot follows a pretty young teacher who recently began working in a new town. She has family who live there including a niece with whom she’s rather close, and much to her irritation she finds out that the girl is going out with her most troublesome student. This continues for about a month before the girl comes to her in tears explaining that the two have broken up. That alone would have been a relief but the bad news is he has a number of compromising images, and even a recording that he took without her knowledge when they were together. It’s common knowledge he has spread around such images and videos of former girlfriends in the past, and knowing this his teacher takes matters into her own hands. For the sake of her niece she has to make sure those images never see the light of day.

Sibling Revelry: Another fairly straightforward idea surrounding blackmail. Our lead characters are step-siblings whose parents married fairly recently (no more than two years ago, no less than one) so that there is no real familial sentiment. They did not get along particularly well either, but that wasn‘t to last. Several months ago she lost her job and found it impossible to get another given her college schedule, but their parents did not accept this as an excuse and after a number of fights she was kicked out. After six months crashing on couches and with friends she found herself with nowhere else to go. Times were lean and everyone who had room needed paying tenants. Though one possibility still existed: her step-father owned a little beach-side place not far from her campus where the family would spend the occasional holiday, but the only person who could snag her a key was her jerk of a step-brother. When she finally asked he seemed all too accommodating, almost as if he had something in mind.
« Last Edit: July 10, 2017, 06:50:49 PM by Egoiste! »

Offline EgoisteTopic starter

The Stepford Syndrome
« Reply #1 on: March 18, 2017, 03:13:27 PM »

   The young journalist glanced over at the two members of her crew. Her photographer, James and his assistant Chris seemed eager to set up and get some photos of the gathering. She’d been told the fair was being held to celebrate the opening of a new library. Amid the groups of people and rows of stalls on a neat reserve of park-land perhaps one hundred people were sat on folding chairs set up in rows facing a small dais. Three people had already taken their turn to speak. Two of them: Joseph Wright and Stephen Marsh headed two of the three families who claimed descent from the town’s founders. Her research had made it fairly plain that this small town with no real industry or exports and an apparent desire to avoid attracting tourists could only seem as prosperous and independent as it did by way of frequent, generous donations from these three founding families. They were the towns de facto owners.

   Now it was the turn of Joseph Wilkinson. He was the very picture of an older yet still vital gentleman, and dressed in a superbly tailored suit he appeared a robust and athletic forty-something although he was in fact approaching his fiftieth year, and the only clue was the odd grey in his close cropped, dark hair. He gave a congenial smile as he looked over the small crowd. After tapping the microphone once he spoke earnestly about the superior community values, and spirit of fellowship that existed in Point Pleasant and pontificated, at length, on their ongoing ability to dodge the pervasive corruption of post-modern apathy with its culture of degeneracy. This saw the crowd react with insufferable smugness or, at least, the men did. That was the thing about Point Pleasant. The men, or rather the women, or - in fact - both of them. Particularly when seen side-by-side. Joseph for example occasionally received adoring waves from a tiny thing clutching a couture purse who could not have been more than twenty five and nothing about the way she looked at him suggested he was her father, unless they had an unwholesomely close family.

   Though she was more fashionable in her accoutrements she was no less made up, dolled up one might go so far as to say, than the other young women in the assembly. Many of whom stood next to much older men. They kept their mouths and listened, or tended to the children, and speaking of the children, there were a lot of them. Point Pleasant seemed very big on families. In fact a fair percentage of the women present were visibly pregnant. The young journalist thought of the photographs she had brought with her. Each had been sent by the family or friends of a young woman who had seemingly disappeared while staying at or passing through the town. She couldn’t be certain, but several of the young women she’d seen so far had reminded her of those photographs. 

   Joseph’s speech contained further oddities for anyone who was listening, and the young journalist was definitely listening. For example after remarking on the excellence of its reference facilities, the breadth of subjects covered on its shelves and the rich collection of literature he added that their new library boasted an entire section intended for the women of the town. The subjects it focused on or at least those he listed were quaint in the most chauvinistic fashion but the women did not seem to mind. In fact a number of them seemed impressed, some almost giddy in their excitement over having simply been mentioned.

   What was wrong with them?

   Finishing his speech the patriarch alighted from the podium and was greeting by an athletic young man not far from the dais. The familial resemblance suggested it was his son, one who had not wanted to listen to the speeches. The two traded a few words which she wasn‘t able to overhear, and Joseph followed his son’s gaze as the young man pointed towards her photographer. The two regarded him even as the dispersing crowd gave rise to a confused colloquy which overtook the area as each individual aired their views now they could speak freely, although the chorus of raised voices had a depth and timber which was wholly masculine.

   As a chattering group of young women obscured her view the journalist did not realize that Joseph was approaching her until he stood almost in front of her.

   ‘Good afternoon miss [your character], I trust you’ve been welcomed suitably. If not, welcome to Point Pleasant-’ there was a charmingly personable quality to the way he offered his hand and smiled, ‘I hear you’ve spoken to our deputy councilman, Jack’s a decent enough fellow but, well, between you and me - no verve, or backbone. I can’t stake the reputation of our wonderful community on his say-so. As one of our esteemed patrons, a member of one of our founding families, I’m prepared to answer any questions you might have. First, though, let me introduce you to my son-’ Joseph turned then, ‘Jared?’

   The dark haired youth took a step forward, bereft of his fathers energy in presenting himself to this lovely young woman - a fact neither had missed or were shy about acknowledging by way of their glance - although there was absolutely nothing in his posture or expression which spoke of reticence. He was appraising in his nature, his manner invested with a careful patience. His eyes dark to the twinkling shade of blue of his father’s, but otherwise the two were much alike save that Jared was a hair taller, his posture a straighter, and his arms and shoulders noticeably bulkier . He wore a simple pair of trousers and a long-sleeved, button down shirt although the warmth had seen him fold the cuffs back, and he held a sports coat in one hand.

   ‘This is [your character],’ his father went on. ‘[your character], my son Jared, and my wife Christine,’ he directed to the young woman who had just swept over to stand by his side.

   ‘Pleased to meet you,’ the journalist remarked with feigned interest before fixing her gaze on Joseph, ‘Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your town?’

   ‘I’m not in the mood for questions,’ Jared interjected brusquely, speaking to both of them, before Joseph could respond.

   He looked the journalist over a final time with that, raising an arm to sling his coat over one shoulder, the cotton of his freshly pressed shirt flattening against his chest as it was drawn out between the pinions of his backward-thrust shoulders to mark the rigid contours of his athletic sinews. A studious, dark eyed gaze took in the curve of her hips, her waist, and with one slightly raised eyebrow he seemed to take some pleasure in tracing the arc of her bare neck, his lip curling into a slight smile.

   ‘But I might see you later,’ he remarked, and with that he left her and Joseph alone.

   ‘I‘m afraid my son doesn’t appreciate small-talk,’ Joseph stated with a shrug, making no apology for the young man. ’or it may be that he’s simply tired of hearing me talk about the wonderful community we have, oh!’ his voice became louder as though there was some revelatory point he had forgotten, ’before we go on, in case I should forget again, as we are so seldom lucky enough to receive any media attention you are of course welcome to stay for as long as you wish, and your entire group as well. Unfortunately we have so few hotels now, so you’ll need to see Jack again. I’ve arranged matters and he’ll direct you to an apartment. Your crew as well, though you may be in different buildings. If you have any problems just let Jack know as we’re eager to keep any members of the press, and hopeful that if they do stay they’ll, naturally, be willing to tell the world about how wonderful our community is.’

   The attractive young journalist wondered at this. Confessing a certain surprise that he professed to relish media scrutiny. Of course she hadn’t told them her real reasons for being here and had explained to Jack earlier that she was covering Point Pleasant for a series on small communities. She’d kept from enquiring directly about any of the town’s more sinister qualities as a result. Still her research up to this point had made her certain the town would not relish such attention.

   ‘However, with that out of the way, I believe you had some questions-?’ Joseph showed a look of disappointment, ‘Only I‘m afraid I won‘t be able to spare the time to answer them just now,’ his regret appeared sincere, ‘but I‘m sure Jack can tell you almost anything you need to know about our town, and you can schedule an appointment with me through him if you find he can’t.’

   She felt a stab of disappointment with this. Of course she’d already questioned Jack extensively and although he’d earnestly volunteered a great deal of information about the town in general he hadn‘t been able to give her anything truly useful. On the other hand it she did not get the impression that he was trying to avoid an interview.

   ‘When do you think you might be available?’ she asked.

   ‘I‘d say-’ his brow creased with thought, ‘not for a few days I’m afraid,’

   The young journalist sighed inwardly at this, but it looked as though she’d be staying at Point Pleasant for a few days at the very least.

   The short walk to their accommodations - after getting the details off Jack, and trying once more to see if he could provide any useful information - turned out to be rather interesting. Together with her crew they found it only a short distance from the newly opened library and their route took them through the centre of town. The streets were clean and far from crowded, and the stores they passed all had an up-market feel. She noticed one or two boutiques she would not have expected to find in a place as small as Point Pleasant, but all in all it seemed fairly normal. The air was fresh, and a cool breeze blew off the nearby water however it was the people who drew their attention.

   ‘I’m not complaining,’ one of her crew, James, spoke up as they passed a gaggle of young women, ’but I don’t think I’ve seen a woman who looks over twenty-five yet,’

   ‘Or who wasn’t in a dress,’ his colleague added.

   This wasn’t hyperbole. In fact even as the two spoke they found themselves swerving around a sundress-clad, twenty-something blonde manoeuvring a stroller out of a clothing store. She was followed by an amiable looking fellow who looked to be in his mid thirties carrying her bags who regarded the small group with a polite nod as they passed.

   The street descended along a gentle slope down to the coast where several high-rises - probably the largest buildings they had seen in town so far - redolent of apartments were currently obscuring their view of the water. Two of the largest turned out to be where they were staying.   

   The apartment itself, one of the upper floor penthouses, proved to be very impressive. The almost panoramic view, thirteen floors up, was breathtaking, and from here it was plain to see that the building was sited at the very tip of the narrow peninsula the town occupied, giving it views of the water on three sides thanks to a substantial strip window that encompassed most of the common areas. A large, split-level, four bedroom residence; it must have taken up a substantial amount of the buildings two uppermost floors. The lower floor was largely contiguous and composed of several large, open-plan living spaces that were pleasantly furnished and decorated. There was a card by the telephone with the number for the front desk and the concierge which suggested to her that the apartment had been used by visiting notables in the past. The upper floor was given over to three bedrooms, and a small sitting room or parlour of sorts with a staircase leading up to the roof. The master bedroom was particularly large, and fitted with a walk-in robe and on-suite bathroom, while a sliding glass door led one out onto a substantial, sheltered balcony fitted with a Jacuzzi, and a spiral staircase that led to the roof. The roof itself being given over to a substantial entertainment area partially shaded and partially open that boasted an outdoor dining suite, verdant gardens and several sitting areas in addition to a dazzling pool built into one corner whose dual infinity edges were rather disconcerting. A large, opaque glass fence marked the boundary on the other side. Presumably bisecting the roof between this, and the complexes other penthouse. 
   There was an abundance of good natured joking amongst the crew and herself as they looked around, and examined the amenities. James and Mark were especially keen to point out that they were staying on a much lower floor in the next building over - sure to practically be a dungeon by comparison - but before they left they sat down to make plans for the next day. James volunteered to take Chris and spend the day photographing some of the town’s more notable features and locations. They parted ways for the evening with that. 

   They had hardly left when a package arrived for her. The enclosed note - which included a few generic lines welcoming her to the town - indicating that a number of local businesses and manufacturers had contributed its contents. These were a little peculiar - though of course any local girl wouldn’t have thought it strange - and it all had an almost comically feminine tone. There was a great deal of literature from business cards to pamphlets providing all manner of information about the various contributors, and then the contents themselves. Several outfitters had included items or gift cards along with a number of cosmetics and a substantial selection of fragrance samples from a local boutique, plus a few examples of local produce, all slightly boring save for some hand-made chocolates, along with a ’welcoming,’ gift from the town patrons - an ‘84 vintage bottle of Verve - and if she had even the slightest idea why it had all been given to her she would probably - should, definitely - have incinerated it all. Immediately.

   That was all a part of Point Pleasant’s ‘magic,’ though, the additives found in so many of its consumables, including the drinking water. Some worked slowly, effecting a more permanent change, others more quickly and sensationally. All had different effects, but generally speaking they tended to heighten certain impulses, and dull others. Their designers were incredibly proud of them. Especially the effect they had on women. It was almost a civic service. After all the women in Point Pleasant were some of the happiest in the world. Also the most compliant. The most pliable. The most suggestible. The horniest. The least troubled by such terrible afflictions as critical thinking, personal aspirations, and the ability to grapple with anything more intellectually challenging than buying clothes and giving blowjobs. Still it took time before things got this bad. She still had a chance.

   The focus of this plot is coercion, largely by way of mind-altering substances, and the idea of changing someone - from the way they think and their world-view down to the way they dress - into something radically different. Its about someone capable, independent and used to being in control of their life having all of that taken away. Whether this is a realization of some long-buried impulse or desire, whether the desire is created through the process of change, or whether it is imposed upon her by an external force (the ’magic’ of Point Pleasant) is something you can decide on. The story can encompass many other kinks and fetishes which we can discuss and consider based on our preferences and characters as well, but it is best suited to a slower build-up in order to generate erotic tension. So if you want a game that dives right into the smut this may not be for you. Though this is certainly a game whose central theme is erotic, and one where the male lead at least may not show much depth initially (beyond the depths of his depravity) it does not mean there is no room for character growth and development. The changes wrought on the female lead may be the focus, but there is no reason why her presence cannot also lead to changes for the male lead, although initially at least this game certainly won’t be about romance or sentiment.

Contact me if you‘re interested in trying this plot, or have any questions or comments. I try to respond to private messages on the same day I get them, and am always happy to discuss story and character ideas.
« Last Edit: July 10, 2017, 06:25:47 PM by Egoiste! »

Offline EgoisteTopic starter

First Time Slave, First Time Owner
« Reply #2 on: March 18, 2017, 03:15:32 PM »
First Time Slave, First Time Owner

   The loud, insisting ringing of a mobile phone accompanied the image of a young, shirtless male sitting up amid a tangle of bed sheets. Dark eyes flickered over to the bedside table, and his phone even as he scratched the back of his head in a way that left his longish, dark hair in even greater disarray than his pillow had. There was a moment when he looked as though he would turn the phone off, roll over and go back to sleep yet as he picked it up and saw who was calling Mark suddenly remembered what day it was. The realization woke him up more effectively than any alarm, and he answered the phone immediately.

   ‘Yeah?’ he intoned, while rolling to the edge of his large king-sized bed.

   He made for the open door to an on-suite bathroom, but found himself dragging the sheets off his bed in his haste before he hopped several times, rather awkwardly, in order to divest himself of the clinging linens.

   ‘We’re on our way,’ these words made the young man smile.

   ‘Good,’ he responded, ‘Great. I’ve got everything ready on my end, what about the outfit we discussed?’

   ‘She’s been prepared as per your instructions,’

   ‘Then I’ll be ready.’ Mark stated coolly, ‘Phone again when you’re downstairs,’ he lifted a coat hanger off the door handle of the open bathroom door - a button down shirt and a pair of trousers on it - before making his way inside.

   After hanging up Mark set his phone down atop the bathroom cabinet and halted briefly in front of the large mirror behind it. It showed the shirtless figure of an athletic young man on the cusp of his physical prime with broad, powerful shoulders tapering down to a svelte waist. His face, though handsome, possessed a certain arrogance. He had the look of a man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted. After lazily rolling his athletic shoulders he slid an understated silver watch off one wrist, setting it next to his phone, before tilting his head back slightly as he stroked the dark stubble on his jaw as if contemplating whether to let it grow another day. Apparently deciding he would he turned and made for the shower.

   The sound of running water lasted for perhaps ten minutes, audible through the closed bathroom door, before Mark strode out of the bathroom wearing the same dark button-down shirt and trousers he had picked up earlier. He made his way across the breadth of his large bedroom toward the door to his walk-in robe, and re-emerged a moment later wearing a pair of patent leather shoes before he cast his gaze about the large bedroom. There were four doors including those leading into the on-suite and walk-in robe although one was unlike the others: a glass screen-door set within a floor-to-ceiling panel of glass that led out onto a sizable balcony. The cityscape views it offered made it clear this was an apartment, and most likely the penthouse of large complex. The interior was not the tidiest of spaces, but for a young man living alone it did not seem out of sorts and its owner appeared to agree as he made for the door after only a cursory glance.

   Striding out into a hallway - at the end of which was the door to his bedroom - Mark made for the next door along, one of four, which was distinguished from the others by the presence of a lock on the outside. A single key hung from a chain upon the door-handle, and he opened it with this before putting the chain around his neck and dropping it inside his shirt.

   ‘I hope she appreciates how much this cost,’ he muttered to himself as he entered the room.

   It was another bedroom. Smaller than his own, but still quite large, pleasantly furnished and outfitted with a small sitting area and entertainment suite. There was no balcony but a large window in one wall offered the same cityscape views as in his own room, although it did possess both an on-suite and walk-in robe. As he walked towards the latter Mark halted by a dressing table where he pulled out a drawer to glance inside. Here were some of the impressive selection of high-end cosmetics he had purchased. Their names and purposes where something of a mystery to him, but the young woman at the store had assured him they were the best. He closed the drawer again and strode into the walk-in robe where he slowly turned on his heel to regard its contents. He had only known her measurements for a few days and much of what he had ordered had yet to arrive, yet there was already a bewildering selection of designer clothes, shoes, accessories, and several small shelves and glass cabinets containing other personal effects such as fragrances and jewellery.
   He pulled the door closed behind him as he strode back out into the room to stand opposite the large king-sized bed. It had certain unusual features such as hand-cuffs hanging from the steel bed frame and other more esoteric fastenings which he glanced over before heading for the exit. Though even as he halted outside in the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him, the phone in his pocket began ringing. His dark eyebrows twitched upward expectantly as Mark withdrew it and answered the call.

   ‘Yes?’ he enquired as he started down the hall.

   The hallway ended in a small sitting area where one staircase led upward, onto the roof, and another down. Mark began to descend the latter.

   ‘We’re downstairs now,’ it was the voice from earlier.

   ‘Good,’ the young man stated, ‘I’ll be there in a moment,’

   Downstairs now he traversed a series of sizable open-plan living spaces with large windows boasting expansive city views, all furnished and decorated with a restraint suggestive of a professional touch. Though the young man had no time to reflect on his surroundings as he made his way out. As his apartment took up the two uppermost floors of the complex there was no upstairs lobby, and Instead of a front door the exit took the form of an elevator which was soon descending toward the basement car-park. Mark tapped a foot impatiently as he watched the numbers above the door blinking on and off in sequence from the eighteenth floor to the below-ground basement. As it finally lurched to a halt and the doors opened he strode out immediately into the car-park itself where he noted a van idling in front of the elevators doors. Two burly looking men stood by it, and they exchanged nods with Mark when he appeared.
   ‘So-’ the young man raised an eyebrow, ‘where is she?’

   A simple game, and a simple set-up but how simply it plays out is in our hands. The focus is the idea of slavery, and in particular the idea of two people new to slavery. Your character because she had just been tossed into that world. Mine because he has recently struck out on his own, and with his families connections to the underground flesh-trade one of the advantages to that is the chance to purchase and keep his own slaves. Though dominant in his desires and attitude he is still new to this and discovering what he likes and dislikes. So he will not see your character as a mere, lowly slave but rather as a fellow human stripped of her rights and freedoms for his benefit. He is open to the idea that this is a good thing, but his conscience may tell him otherwise and how exactly he proceeds is up to us. I’m hoping for ‘substantial personality conflict, at least initially, and regarding kinks I’m open to including objectification, training, punishment - as a product of training, or for its own sake - dominance & submission, coercion, physical struggles, roughness, bondage (hand-cuffs, chains, leashing and collaring) humiliation, name-calling, sexy and slutty clothing & forced clothes-wearing, and more. However as with most of my games it is capable of covering many other kinks and I‘m always open to suggestions and ideas. We might also employ any number of twists or variations on the standard theme. Perhaps they knew one another prior to her enslavement for example? Perhaps she ends up appealing to his conscience and we follow a more adventure-driven path as they attempt to free others, or expose the underground trade. I’m willing to hear any and all suggestions.
« Last Edit: July 10, 2017, 06:25:23 PM by Egoiste! »

Offline EgoisteTopic starter

A Little Blackmail
« Reply #3 on: March 18, 2017, 03:20:53 PM »

   She had always made it a rule to reach out to problem students, to resist the urge to dislike even the very worst, and was very proud of her ability to turn such students around. In fact and largely as a result of this she was acknowledged as capable of working wonders with even the most troublesome classes. However teaching here was different and from almost the first day she had felt like she was at war with Greg - one of her students - for the loyalty and respect of the male half of her class. Though it was a war she knew she was winning, and one she was determined to win despite the shocking indifference of the over-privileged young man’s rich, influential parents. When she had spoken to them about his behaviour they had simply refused to believe that their child was capable of doing anything bad.

   Even more frustrating the brat was on a sports-scholarship and was often excused work as a result of his extra-curricular commitments. As for his behaviour well she had only been teaching here for six months and did not even feel guilty for hating him anymore. Though it was true that some of his closer friends were little better she was certain that if he were out of the picture then she’d be able to work with them and get them back on the right track.

   Glancing up from where she sat behind her desk, her shapely eyes glancing toward the clock - seeing class was almost over - the attractive young teacher briefly turned her attention toward Greg. Her students were all making notes about their homework; and a few had finished. Greg meanwhile had stopped to run a hand through his thick black hair. Their eyes met for a brief moment when he looked up and the his teacher wondered if he knew what was about to happen. If he didn’t he would soon find out, and that thought gave her a certain satisfaction as she stood and headed down the aisle between two rows of desks, walking towards him.

   ‘Don’t forget everyone your term projects are due tomorrow,’ she spoke up even as the bell rang.

   Her students had begun to pack away their books as she halted by Greg’s desk. He slid his books off its edge and let them fall haphazardly into his open bag, and appearing to ignore the fact that his teacher was standing beside him.

   ‘Not you,’ she stated simply as Greg started to stand, ‘There’s something I would like to speak with you about.’

   ‘oh man, you're in trouble bro,’ one of Greg’s friends drawled idiotically.

   ‘Did I ask for your opinion?’ she stated icily.

   ‘Naw,’ the young man answered, eyes down, even as he slung his bag over his shoulder. ‘Sorry,’

   Greg sat back idly as though bored and let his chair rock back onto two legs as the other students filed out, and his teacher returned to the front of the class. The room was soon emptied but for the two of them, although the sound of people chattering and the bang of locker doors drifted back in from the corridors outside.

   ‘Do you know what this is about?’ she asked after a moments pause, waiting for the hallway outside to quieten down a little.

   Leaning back further in his chair Greg shrugged and rolled his athletic shoulders, his challenging expression difficult to read, but otherwise clearly bereft of any fear or concern.

   ‘I might,’ he ventured noncommittally, a crooked half-smile forming on his face.

   ‘Then you shouldn’t be surprise that I’m confiscating your phone,’ she cut back.

   He shrugged at this, and she could not help reacting worriedly to his apparent indifference.

   ‘Sure-’ Greg withdrew his smart-phone from a pocket and held it out, ‘but you won’t find what you’re looking for on this, it’s all been uploaded.’

   Opening her mouth to reply his teacher found herself suddenly bereft of comment. In fact she seemed little shaken by the news.

   ‘Where?’ she demanded.

   ‘Nowhere public,’ he responded evasively, ‘Not yet at least, but even if I told you I doubt you could do anything about it,’

   This game focuses on blackmail, personality conflict and power-exchange. However it could also feature things like dominance & submission, roughness, bondage, humiliation and non-consensual scenes. Though of course these are not necessary features of the story, and I’d love to hear any suggestions you have. The option exists to move things along more slowly and focus on character development and motivation, but in fairness this is never going to work as a deeper, story-driven game. That said although I’d like my character to start off as a real scumbag and initially have our two leads strongly opposed with the potential for much conflict and even outright antagonism. There is no reason that things must continue in that vein forever though in fact it would be interesting to explore how the characters come to live with this situation in a more realistic manner, and to see what effect it has on them, and whether their twisted relationship - founded on abuse and coercion - can ever develop into anything more.

Contact me if you‘re interested in trying any of these plots, or if you have any questions or comments. I try to respond to private messages on the same day I get them, or you can add me on AIM or Yahoo.
« Last Edit: July 10, 2017, 06:25:02 PM by Egoiste! »

Offline EgoisteTopic starter

Sibling Revelry
« Reply #4 on: July 10, 2017, 06:24:30 PM »
Sibling Revelry

   Mark strode purposefully towards the pleasant, but rather small town-house with a lazily confident smile on his arrogantly handsome face. It wasn't too far from where he lived - he hadn't been travelling for more than an hour or two - yet there was a sense of isolation there. As he strode down the path which bisected the simple lawn leading toward the front door he found himself savouring - as much as the sound of the nearby surf, and the pleasant salty tang in the crisp air - the feeling that he could do almost anything here. That it was a place outside the realm of his normal life, with different rules. It caused him to smile in a less than wholesome manner while approaching the door as he dug in his pocket for the key, halting just outside it, and slipping it into the lock. As the door swung open he pulled down the hem of his button-down shirt, drawing the thin cotton taut across his athletic torso briefly in an attempt to smooth the creases from its surface. He stretched his arms back, and rolled his well-built shoulders, muscles shivering with pent up energy, before reaching for the bag he had left on the doorstep.

   'Hey...' Mark called out as he strode boldly down the hallway, glancing into the first bedroom to find it was empty, though he knew she was there somewhere.

   The interior of the small house was as modest as the outside, but pleasant and comfortable nevertheless, if a little under-furnished. Only two doors, one of which he had just passed, opened off the tiled hall before it lead into the main open-plan living space - a living and dining area that the kitchen opened off - and from where he stood in the hall Mark could see through to the glass rear door beyond. It led out onto the small yard, and beyond that to a band of golden sand stretching down to the water, broken by the white lines of rolling waves, and the dazzling reflection of a sunset against the smooth water beyond.

   He found his step-sister in the rear room, rising up off the small couch where she had been sitting, and glanced at the mess of books scattered around her laptop on the coffee table. Stepping into the room as if he owned it while she regarded him with a quizzical expression Mark looked her up and down shamelessly, smirking. She was exactly as hot as she had been on the day he had last seen her.

   'Hey,' he intoned, but even as he spoke the young man's dark eyes roamed boldly over the young woman‘s figure. 'How's it going?' he asked, 'Looks like you've settled in-' he smiled in a fashion that worried her, while glancing around the room, 'That’s cool. I'm going to be spending my break here,' his arrogance and the blunt declaration made the young woman’s eyes narrow slightly as she looked at him.

   ‘Fine, I hope I won't be in your way.’ her last words were laced with sarcasm as she followed his gaze, her own eyes flashing with irritation. ‘I think I’ve made it more comfortable-’ the girl’s shapely eyes flicked downward as she closed her laptop and lifted it up off the table, ‘So what are you going to be doing this week?’

   ‘I'm glad you like it,' Mark cut back after a pause, ignoring her question. 'There's nowhere else you can go, after all, is there? Still I thought that was pretty rough, you getting kicked out for losing that job, good thing no one knows you're staying here though,' his face was less than reassuring, and the words saw a lump appear in the young woman's slender throat as she swallowed nervously. He went on, 'I mean, you'd be sort of screwed if they did...'

   This game is all about personality conflict, coercion and blackmail. Other things I’d also like to try include dominance and submission, physical struggles and conflict, teasing, roughness, spanking, bondage, humiliation, non-con, name-calling, and so on but these are not necessary to play the game out. I’d love to hear your suggestions too. The story is character driven, pacing is flexible, and I think playing with some tension and a little build-up could also make this game more fun. Though the option is there to dive right in. The blackmail side of the game is less about giving the male lead a means of controlling the female lead, and more about giving him a sense that he can act without consequence. As, with his new-found leverage, he begins finds certain inhibitions melting away; giving him what he feels is the opportunity to express some of his darkest impulses without fear of consequence. In addition the blackmail angle can be reduced or minimised to make it a more straight non-consensual plot if you prefer. As things move forward to hopefully we’ll get to see a little more character and story. It will be interesting to see how these two adjust to living together given their altered dynamic.

Contact me if you‘re interested in trying this plot, or have any questions or comments. I try to respond to private messages on the same day I get them, and am always happy to discuss story and character ideas.