"Renny" Inglefell [Real name: Regnayl Inglefell]Age:
Bright, wide blue eyes, hot pink hair and a small, jagged scar along his lower back, just across his spine.Build:
Lithe, athletic, soft and smooth; distinctly feminine despite his biological gender. He is only around 5'2, with the sort of build that means that he is easily mistaken for a female even when he isn't
actively encouraging the confusion.Gender:
Giving/recieving oral, recieving anal, BDSM (sub), ropes, handcuffs, spanking, petplay, dress-up, being insulted and degraded, Being disgraced, being taken from behind, exhibitionism, facials, bukkakes, snowballing, internal cumshots, gangbang, multiple cocks, multiple oral penetration, double anal penetration, orgasm control / denial, scratching, biting, hair pulling, humiliation, discipline, throat fucking and deepthroat, skullfucking, gagging, blindfolds, breastplay, cowgirl and R-Cowgirl, against the wall, bent over furniture, public disgrace, giving vaginal, giving anal.Offs:
breath play, scat, gore, vore, watersports, nipple torture, non-sexual pain or torture, Domming. Likes (Non sexual):
Tenderness, pleased Mistresses, shopping, sewing, performing, joking with friends / other servants, doing housework to keep Mistresses happy. Dislikes (Non sexual):
Being yelled at, confrontation, being chased / followed, heavy manual labour, displeased Mistresses.Strengths:
Textile work (sewing, knitting, etc), singing and dancing (performance), massages.Weaknesses:
Manual labour, non-textile creative work, combat, sports and competition, gambling, drinking.Personality:
Perhaps befitting his height and build, Renny as he likes to be known is a relatively timid, soft-spoken young man who prefers to keep his head down and his thoughts to himself. He knows the position he finds himself in is a precarious one, a male in a Futanari-dominated society and a member of the conquered ex-elite, at that! - and is fearful of any kind of rebellion being interpreted in his actions or speech. He is a dutiful servant, instantly bowing to those he recognises as his Mistresses, and is both obedient and humble in their presence. He listens to everything said, and tries his hardest to please. However, catch him with his friends and other servants, and you might see a different side to him; whilst still quiet and somewhat shy, he is more free with his smiles when in the company of those he trusts, and is always trying to make people smile and laugh.
Despite his situation, he is not cynical or bitter or unfriendly; quite the opposite! He is a kindhearted, gentle soul who will always try to make people feel better any way he can, and delights in earning grateful or amused smiles from people he sets out to help. If his Mistress earns his trust as well as his loyalty and obedience the latter two he gives as a matter of course she too might see the more carefree side of him as he relaxes in her presence. Around people he distrusts or actively fears, however, his demeanour changes extensively. He clams up, withdraws inside himself and seems scared to even take a breath lest the sound anger or annoy them. He wilts at the slightest sign of conflict, terrified as he is of being yelled at or displeasing somebody too much, and instead of fighting back will often just stand there and take the abuse. If physically threatened, he will attempt to run or escape, but if he fails, he is far too passive to do anything other than struggle weakly before giving in, withdrawing inside himself to endure whatever torment is being dealt upon him. History:
The Inglefells were a proud, powerful family once, ruling one of the very few City-States on the very outskirts of the Futanari Empire, doing their best to survive the Empires constant attempts to absorb them into their now world-dominating territory. Had the full might of the Empire come down upon them, they would have folded much sooner than they did, but thankfully, they were treated as more of an afterthought for much of their existence. This rankled many of the powerful members of the family they were important, damnit, and should be treated as such but certainly not enough to tempt fate. The Inglefells were a long line of Warrior Lords, rumoured to be descended from amongst the first of the Mercenary Guilds that aided in the foundation of Fellhaven, who had risen to greater and greater prominence within their city until eventually they controlled the city if not in name that honour belonged to the Vismarck line, the hereditary Viscounts of the city then in practice. Their wealth kept the military paid, their corruption kept the underworld thriving and loyal to the Inglefell name, and their influence kept their political opponents in the shadows...they controlled everything and everyone within Fellhaven, a vast empire of wealth, illegal and legal ventures and bickering relatives all kept in line by the powerful Patriarch, Rosgoth Inglefell.
Unfortunately, Rosgoth was growing older and the attempts on his life were consistently getting closer and closer to success. He wasn't as young and spry as he once was, and though he was still a strong enough warlord to thwart any attacker who dared challenge him in the open, his wits were beginning to fade...and though he would bloodily execute anybody who dared say that to his face, he knew that they were right. He needed a legacy, or the Inglefells would fall to ruin through infighting and bickering upon his death. He needed an heir. So, he took his fifth wife, Sylvana, the female heir to a rich and powerful Merchant Lord Line, and within the year...Regnayl was born. His father rejoiced and, as soon as he could walk, began to teach him the skills and knowledge that he would need to be a proper and true Inglefell Patriarch. Battle tactics, swordplay, horseback riding, archery, the proper implementation of assassins and how best to guard himself against hostile ones...he tried to pass on all his knowledge to his son, hoping that one day he would be shaped into a worthy successor to his name. Unfortunately, fate had a different plan for the young Regnayl.
Regnayl was hopeless
at swordplay, he always fell off his horse even the docile little pony they bought him as a training steed he always stumbled right into the mock assassins his father set up for him, he always got his men slaughtered to a man in the wargames, and one time he actually managed to fail at firing his bow so spectacularly that the arrow ended up behind him, lodged in his instructors foot. He endured many a powerful, stern lecture about his failures, always ended up feeling like nothing by the end of his fathers angry tirade, and it was only his mother Sylvana who kept him somewhat grounded during all of it. She recognised that her son was not cut out to be a Inglefell warlord, and instead encouraged him to follow his passions...they tried many different things, but eventually he realised that he loved performing for people; he loved to sing and dance and entertain. He loved to sit with his mother and her handmaids, sewing and knitting and talking about the days gossip and news. He loved helping the maids with their housework, finding the repetitive task of cleaning and scouring the house for dirt oddly cathartic and relaxing after the stressful, often-tear-inducing failures in his Manly lessons, followed by the furious tirades of his father. What's more...he soon found that he loved more than just making
dresses and frocks.
It began as an accident. One morning, after a forced tavern session with his father who thought that taking his 13 year old soon out drinking would be a good way to Put some hairs on his chest - he was in no small amount of agony as he rolled out of bed and grabbed the first thing his flailing arms could reach to pull on and stumble out of his room. It just so happened that he'd mistakenly gone to sleep in a maids room who had been too scared to wake him and correct him because of who his father was and he accidentally pulled on her uniform dress (which was scandalously lowcut with a very short skirt, since his Uncle Kyran was a pervert). He realised his mistake quickly, having caught sight of himself in the mirror, but...something stopped him from taking it off. It felt...nice. Smooth, and light...soft, nothing like those coarse leather plates his father made him wear. It was richly made of course and the stitching was beautifully smooth and graceful. The fabric glided against his skin magnificently rather than catching and rubbing like the rough cotton tunics he usually had to wear, and he found that though he knew he must he just couldn't take it off. He spent what felt like hours there, just touching the fabric and feeling it against his skin, feeling how right
it felt on him.
He did eventually take it off, of course, but he never forgot it...and he never stopped. Whenever his father wasn't looking for the next five years, he would slip on a dress or a skirt, revelling in the freedom and the rebellion against his fathers oppressive ways...and then he started doing more. His hair had always been a very unmanly shade of pink much to his fathers fury, he took after his mother in that regard and he found that with very little effort, he could make it look even more feminine...his body, though well-maintained thanks to the constant exercise, was soft and smooth rather than corded and hard, so with not much effort at all...he looked like a female, rather than just wearing their clothing. And he loved it. He felt like he was finally free, that he had finally found his niche, his self...and, of course, he had to explore it. So he began to sneak out at night, going to taverns and inns, performing there in his new persona of Renny, finally being able to do what he wanted with people cheering rather than shifting nervously in case his father burst in and killed them all. He was happy.
But that lasted only for a few months. One night, while performing, the door burst open in the middle of his song...and his father, Rosgoth, stood there, fury in his face and murder in his eyes. Nobody else had recognised him, but his father did. His father always did. That night, he received the worst beating of his life, beaten to a pulp that couldn't even moan in protest when his mother who attempted to stop Rosgoth was thrown from the room with a force that splintered her skull on impact with the opposite wall. She was dead before she came to a stop, but Rosgoth didn't care. He turned back to Regnayl, a cold fury in his eyes, and if the castle hadn't shaken like the world itself was trying to swallow it up, he might have done the same to Renny. As it was...the City was under attack. The Futanari Empire had decided that enough was enough, and had turned its full attention onto the loose alliance of City States that had defied it for decades....and Fellhaven was the last bastion of resistance. If Fellhaven fell, well...the others would quickly fall into line. And fall it did. His father did his best, but it was a losing battle and everybody knew it. He stalled and delayed and obstructed...but all it took was one knife through the ribs from one of Sylvana's handmaidens, and it was all over. Without the fearsome Rosgoth to drive them, the soldiers of Fellhaven threw down their weapons and surrendered. The citizens attempted to flee, and the nobles fell to bickering and infighting, even with the enemy at their gates. Fellhaven didn't last a single night.
And, of course, captives were taken. Slaves and servants were captured, those who aided in the conquest of the city were rewarded as it happened, the Handmaiden who killed Rosgoth had approached the Futanari Empire as soon as Sylvana died, just to spite the abusive old asshole and was rewarded with Citizenship and life moved on. Some Futanari soldiers found Renny, battered and bruised and clinging to life in his Fathers dungeon in the tatters of what remained of his performance garb, and took him to the medical tents to get him treated. He was wearing female clothes, yet had a cock; they didn't have the equipment on hand to determine that he was in fact male, and...well, they weren't about to take the risk. When he had healed and they found out that he was male they promptly sold him into servitude, his being spared slavery purely by the sympathetic mood of the conquering General.
Apparently, having been found beaten and bloodied in the dungeon of the local Lord earned him some sympathy, such as it was. He was promptly shipped off to a life of indentured servitude slavery in all but name, he thought in the Empire, sold as a unique specimen; a male, who willingly and happily dressed as a female! Well, that turned heads, and he went through a couple of Mistresses intrigued by the oddity...but they tired of him he was quiet, shy and quickly became uninteresting with how little he said or did without their prompting - and sold him on. Until he arrived at his current Mistress at the age of 20. Now, three years later, he has settled into a life of servitude. His nightmares of the death of his mother and the rage of his father still haunt his sleep, but despite himself...he is glad to be free from the Inglefell name and the legacy of butchery and corruption that once awaited him. He is free from his father, at least...and as long as he stays in his Mistresses good graces, perhaps things will be ok for him. Of course...that depends on the kind of Mistress he has found himself the possession of....
And that's Renny! I hope he's acceptable as a Servant, and I hope he looks enticing to a Mistress or two who might want him as their personal little plaything
Obviously aspects of the backstory can be altered depending on who decides they want him. I'm flexible to alterations! ^_^