[MxM & femdom: non-con, kidnap, torture] Hatefuck: DOUBLE-UPS WELCOME

[Sekah]

MY O/Os | MY CHARACTERS

• There's no passwords in this thread.


• Skim it for what interests you, I hope I've made it easy to skim.


• Double ups welcome! What will I write in a double up? ANYTHING! Any genre, any kink, any desires you have. M/F, M/M, F/F, enby friends welcome, canon, OC, the only thing I ask is that I be allowed to use one of my pre-made characters, or if I'm writing a canon character, it's one I know well (Marvel MCU, DC Comics, Yu Yu Hakusho, Hunter x Hunter, Lord of the Rings, just ask me if I know it well enough to write it for you). My limits (other than raceplay) don't apply to double ups. Hit me with it, I'm good for it. <3


• Pitch it to me, I'm easy!

WHAT I NEED


I have a lot of threads that are either consensual or in which I'm the dom right now, so I'm looking for something as a non-con sub, because that's my favorite thing to write and I'm hungry. Searching for non-con dominant characters, men, women, trans, cis, genderqueer, doesn't matter, to rough up a range of male OCs. Must be willing to do multi-paragraph posts for most posts—not a requirement for every single post, but writing more is something I'll expect! I'm willing to go from anything from a one-shot to an epic universe spanning a bunch of different threads.

POSSIBLE KINKS I'D LIKE TO EXPLORE:
—non-consensual, particularly if it's done realistically and respectfully (MC recieving)
—stockholm's syndrome
—lima syndrome (for your character)
—LGBTQIA+/queer characters, particularly gay, bi and pan men.
—LGBTQIA+/queer relationships.
—poly relationships, because I firmly believe every good love triangle should end in a threesome.
—I have a massive size kink that can run with any combination of genders, though a large, burly man with a slimmer, smaller man or woman (trans or cis), genderqueer or intersex person, just a small character, often makes me the happiest
—spanking, whipping, paddling, some kind of beating with hands, belts, crops, whatever moves you (MC recieving)
—erotic-asphyxiation (giving or recieving)
—humiliation (submissive behaviors like boot-licking, lowering one's eyes, kneeling for master, abasement in general) (MC receiving)
—inability to communicate, either through mutilation, sorcery, or a simple language difference
—rough sex
—Dominant/submissive, consensual or non-consensual—both maledom AND always up for a good femdom. Intelligent, powerful women are my absolute favorites for femdom—give me your regnant queens (queens reigning without a king), your empresses.
—december/may relationships, also known as ageplay. Underage characters that follow the rules of Elliquiy are okay with me!
—incest in all its forms
—blackmail is a big fave
—kidnapping is amazing
—torture is never an issue
—the sub fearing for his life/life and death situations
—stark, often brutal realism is generally my go-to writing style
—petplay is love
—beastiality is just fine with me
—sentient non-human creatures are great too!
—really any kind of bondage

Clichés I enjoy: Slavery. Servitude. Political power games. Rich world-building. Several people in love with one person. Blood pacts. Guilds. Thieves. Piracy. Street gangs. Mass hysteria.

KINKS I'M NOT INTERESTED IN/DON'T WANT:
—forced feminization, especially in excess. Don't refer to my male character as she, or put him in a dress to humilate him. I just don't think being feminine is humiliating!
—constant references to a character's cock being small or unimpressive, or other insinuations that they're not giving her pleasure, unless warranted or it fits a particular scene.
—cuckolding isn't a kink for me. I'm okay with cheating plots, but if your character is cheating on mine with half the universe, it's not interesting to me unless it's permissive poly.
—absolutely no race play; I'm happy to write stories of characters battling racism or wrestling with its impact on their lives, but it's not a kink for me in the slightest.

HOW I PLAY


WRITING SAMPLE

Knock You Down, Make You Bleed

Crow didn't look up as he heard the rapid steps back towards him, heavy enough he knew who they belonged to and realized sadly he'd recognize even years later. Crow was grabbed by his wrist and the scruff of his neck, yanking his hands from his face. He was hauled to his feet, the weak material of his cheap shirt tearing under Conall's grip. His knees wobbled, shaky and unsteady, making him trip and stagger as Conall dragged him immediately away. He hadn't slept all night, eaten since the midday meal yesterday, he was exhausted and terrified just from his emotions, let alone the glamour he had had to hold for too long for his juvenile magic.

They didn't walk for long before Crow was bodily tossed over Conall's shoulder, pushing on his back to see where they went, wondering if something had happened to his sister while they were out of sight. Crow saw a reeling mess of pants and ground, huts they passed in a blur.

There was nothing gentle about how he was tossed to the floor of the hut they reached finally. A cane chair was in splinters in the side, storage jars had been cracked, creating dangerous sharp caltrops that could slice Crow anywhere he was pressed.

Conall reached past his defending arms, raised around his head more like a child than a boxer. The clothing was ripped open in a loud rending of cloth, torn to pieces as it was pulled from Crow's body. The force of it jerked Crow sideways.

His lean, lovely torso was wet with fear sweat, he stank of fear. Fae noses aren't those of changelings, but he could smell the terror on himself. Crow was yanked into Conall's arms, his hands going up and hitting Conall's chest. He looked at his hands, small compared to Conall's shoulders though calloused from hard work. He despised himself. He felt like a cliché, a woman pressing her hands to her captor's chest. He'd seen paintings of this exact position.

He was held in place by an arm solid and unbending as iron. This man sniffed the nape of his neck like you would a drug, like an addict puffs at opium, desperate for the hit.

Crow yelped as the razor-sharp teeth dug into the meat of his shoulder, the blood licked away and, with some time, far more time than what it took to heal the rents last night, healing up. Until they did, his shoulder stung agony all down his arm.

His whole body shuddered as the man's intentions were growled to him. Tears fell freely down his face and into his beard and neck. He quivered again as the man's hand slid into his simple cloth pants, grabbing his plush ass, the callouses catching on the skin.

Conall was devouring his neck, and for Crow every prey sense a sentient being has was raised. A predator was close to his tender jugular, the soft meat of his throat. The hair on his arms, still pitifully pushing against Conall's chest, stood straight up.

Crow fought down his sobs as Conall crushed his rigid cock into his hip. Crow noted the size, knowing it would hurt him.

If this was a reward, it was a cruel one. Forcing Crow to participate made him feel degraded on a level he hadn't felt in years. He tried to remember what it was he'd done when faced with a frightening client. He'd been a pain whore, it had involved plenty of men as bestial and cruel as Conall.

But it had been so long ago. He had so much distance from it, before this afternoon. His legs were shaking in constant vibrations, terrified and exhausted and knowing he couldn't stop this. To be back in this place—his body remembered and he curled beneath Conall. He tried to think of what positions had hurt him least, as a boy. Positions where so much of himself wasn't in contact with the man.

But the most important thing—

"Don't make me look at you, as you r-rape me. Turned away from you. Please."

God, Crow hated himself—he sounded like a miserable housewife. His voice stammered, unsteady with exhaustion and fear and pain that was, for now, purely internal. Yes, he hated himself.

But Conall he despised more than he had anyone he could remember.

I tend to write as much as moves me. I never match length. But I also love to have fun and watch my partners have fun, so I will be checking in with you a lot to make sure things are fun.

Any non-con, kidnapping, abuse, or torture welcome!
Just contact me if you have any desire for it, I can plot out something unique to us easily!
If you want prompts:

MOST WANTED


ARREST ME: A COP AND HIS BROTHER'S KILLER [DOM M WANTED]




PLOT



Taiga is a crime boss who runs a prostitution ring. He was a prostitute himself, but the favorite of the former boss. He became his second-in-command and then killed him and took over the family. Your boy is a cop captain who blames Taiga for the sexual abuse and potentially, if you'd like to write that, death and/or murder of his brother, which happened when Taiga was former boss's lover and second-in-command. YC, the cop captain, kidnaps Taiga and drives him to a deserted area. He reveals to Taiga he has potent blackmail material recovered from the computer of Taiga's former lover, containing everything from information on who Taiga is closest to to the fact that Taiga is an unregistered magic user—in other words, a man who should already be a slave. There, in alphabetical order, are all of Taiga's weaknesses. The cop, too, is an unregistered magician, with a dangerous power called technopathy, which allows him to manipulate any form of electric technology he finds. In keeping with that, all of Taiga's secrets are already emailed to the papers, the government, and his many enemies. Only the cop's technopathy is holding the email in cyberspace, disallowing it from reaching its intended recipients. And that starts a whole series of non-con situations between Taiga the former hooker and the cop. Wires get crossed, empathy appears, things get complicated.



SETTING INFO

Borrowed from the amazing fic The Affairs of Wizards. Imagine a world where people born with the ability to manipulate magic are forced to choose between being second-class citizens and working for the government in what amounts to modern slavery. Nothing is more dangerous than being an unregistered magic user, except perhaps being a registered one.



Magic is tested for at the ages of six, twelve and fourteen, and all the children who have it are removed to the centers, witch centers, infamous places where they'll stay, in bunks as many as four high, wearing the same clothes and with the same haircuts and given an education that ends at fourteen. All discussions of magic are severely punished—let the gentler folks outside, the regular folks, learn their magic resistance and anti-magic tech and how to spot magic and where to look for magic and how magic works in the magic seminars they take at fifteen to eighteen, when they're sure there's none of those dirty unnies listening in. As for the mages, at eighteen, they have a choice—or rather, the choice: stay in the kennel, as many call them, where after age eighteen one can be leased either to government contractors or to the public on government contracts with very few clauses for welfare (don't worry, you'll earn 45 cents every two hours of work you do, no matter what it is or how strenuous or dangerous, that you can never actually touch de facto and goes back to a non-witch biological family member you might not have seen since you were six when you die) . . . or be free. Of course, many of the youngsters choose freedom, if not most of them. Of course, most of them learn quickly how much freedom as a witch is a trap. Legally barred from most types of housing and illegally barred from the rest, most are homeless. Since it's illegal for a witch to own a bank account, and no bank would ever do business with them in the first place, they can't possibly build wealth or capital—they can have cash, and that can be stolen, and everybody knows the police don't give a crap if you take shit from an unnie. Who the fuck cares?



And who would hire one? The only jobs generally safe for unnies is prostitution and the like, since the tales of how unnies bewitch men—usually men—and tempt them from their families, their ability to beguile and their innate hypersexuality (poor things, can't even help it), make them desired as novelty hookers. But often safe prostitution is barred to them, and it's not the legal forms of it open to them. They don't get jobs in Vegas or places it can be legal. The general rule for Unnies is, if it's legal, they can't do it. But it's a catch twenty-two, because it's a one-strike rule in all fifty states. You get caught doing one misdemeanor. One misdemeanor— and your choice, that precious freedom you were so gleeful to receive at eighteen—it's gone. Poof. Rabbit out of a hat, and you can't stuff it back in. Back to the center, leased to somebody somewhere, Goodnight Irene.



And you've never, in all likelihood, unless you did it stupidly as a kid, done magic in your life. That collar won't come off you, is designed to stick to you, it makes you sick and lowers witch—mage, you might mutter to yourself, you're a mage, not the unnie they call you—life spans to about thirty or thirty-three. Maybe you've heard from the underground resistance—if you've been lucky enough to hear those whispers—about the fact that in other countries, where magic has always been legal, like Mexico, Thailand, Turkey, Switzerland and Finland, mages live to two hundred.



You're not the wicked witch they read the stories about to kids, the villain of every book you've ever read. You know there's banned books—you want to read them—someone told you, this posh university girl sympathetic to mage rights, she'd read these two British books over summer in London where the wizards were the heroes—Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter, weren't those the name? You'd never seen them anywhere here, and when you asked in a bookstore if they had it, a policeman was called, and you were questioned, and that's how you discovered some books were banned in this country. You're not allowed to go to London or anywhere outside the US, since witches are legally classified as weapons in the US and transporting them into or out of the country, or on a plane at all, and in some states (especially in the South) over state lines, is illegal, so you'll never go—maybe make that perilous journey to Mexico, one day . . . you yearn to cross that fabled border every night . . .





But that's only if you end up registered. If you're not? The devil's own luck to you, kid. You're gonna need it. Some places with high enough security might have a magic scanner (every port of entry in the US has a magic scanner somewhere), and realize you don't have a wristband marking you as a legal unnie. It can show up on a simple blood test, for Chrissakes, if they do certain types of them, and doctors are legally forced to report or end up in jail. As they say in that popular movie, what was it called? Oh yeah.



May the odds be ever in your favor.



Basically, dude has electric magic *twiddles fingers*, wants to use it to fuck up the life of the guy who fucked up his brother's. But maybe complete dehumanization of the enemy isn't so easy when a human is looking you in the face? Take that formula and do whatever with it.

THE STARTER

Taiga was at a scientific presentation held in the music hall really intended more for professionals in the field, seated up in a private box in the VIP section. He'd wanted to be alone today, and what that meant in mafia terms was going out with only one bodyguard, instead of five. Besides, Martin Palmer was a violent, physically imposing gorilla with a thunderous scowl and heavy eyebrows above his eternal shades. He looked like no one you wanted to mess with.



Taiga was watching the talk with greedy eyes, a small notebook in his lap with neatly printed lines of Japanese, his mother tongue, as he sketched down notes about the presentation.



His highest level of schooling was only high school. He'd been kidnapped before he went to college. Things like this, events open to the public, reading academic journals thirstily, were the only way he could sate his curiosity about the world, and desire to know more about the cutting edge advancements of the day.



Taiga sighed, pausing to take a sip from his complimentary bottle of water and replace it when the door behind him to the private box slammed open.



"Down on the ground!" a cop shouted, the ringing voice and cracking door drawing the attention of all the scientists and enthusiasts out in the half-full audience. The speaker turned on the podium, his surprised exclamation echoing over the speakers.



Most of the magic-sealing darts hit Palmer, who stared at them with his brooding eyebrows high. In his surprise at his loss of magic, the Legionnaires had time to stream in, guns at the ready, pointed directly at Palmer and Taiga's vitals.



"Get on your knees, hands behind your head," a Legionnaire said. Taiga obediently put his hands behind his head, his notebook sliding out of his lap as he knelt prettily.



Martin followed a moment later, his knees thunking on the ground like they were made of wood. Prison was usually finite; a bullet was permanent.



The anti-magic dart was still embedded in Taiga's shoulder. The wound burned. The loss of his own hidden magic was sickening, made him nauseous. His stomach churned. He refused to show it, because that would be a very grave mistake.



You didn't let it be known that you were an unregistered magic user and get away with it scott free.



Officers cuffed Martin, reading him his rights, explaining his warrants. Two counts of assault and battery against a woman Taiga recognized as Palmer's girlfriend.



Taiga's lips pulled down in a frown. He closed his eyes for a moment, unexpectedly sad. Martin's arrest probably wouldn't stick, and he'd be welcomed back into Gula's folds as a hero.



The girlfriend had caused the apprehension of a Kairos Vice Lord. She would die. Any children would die. Every relative she had would die, too. Granted, Taiga knew he'd be understaffed and had nothing on his person or in his car they could book him with—and there wasn't probable cause for a warrant. He had no idea who this girlfriend was, and they wouldn't get anything on Palmer other than that unless they found drugs in his apartment or something similar. None of it had enough to do with Taiga that a warrant for his home would be justified. On top of that, he saw no less than two Kairos informants in the milieu of cops coming and going. If a warrant was begged for and issued, Gula loyals would have gone through and disposed of anything prosecutable long before the cop cars wailed up the driveway.



A legionnaire came up with his gun out. He ordered Taiga to stand, and turn. He grabbed Taiga's wrists and pulled them down to cuff them.



"Am I under arrest, officer?" Taiga asked lightly.



"You've been found in the presence of a suspected felon. We have probable cause. We'd like to bring you down to the precinct to question you." The cop began a pat-down. "Your name, sir? Do you have your driver's license on you?"



Palmer had been relieved of his gun, taser and a knife. He was being led away.



The scientists were all gawping up, many standing. Cops were overseeing an emptying of the cavernous building.



"I'm Taiga Hisoka," he said and watched the ripple go around the cops. The brave ones looked excited at potentially nabbing a Kairos Vice Lord. Most suddenly looked queasy, aware of the threat of three generations of revenge.



The hands of the officer patting him down froze on his hips. A startled little oh flew out of his mouth.



Taiga finally smiled. "Don't lose my notebook, please, officer," he told the man bagging up his science geek notes for evidence.



The cop patting him down still had his hands on the dainty swell of Taiga's famous hips.

QUEEN & CONSORT [DOM F WANTED]


There are many other races in the Three Worlds, but Crow has never found any that were like himself: shifters who flew. Only one race is known to do that: the Fell; predators who feed on groundlings, destroying their cities and towns, eating the inhabitants, stealing their clothes and possessions, and moving on.

Crow knows he isn't a Fell.

As for what he really is? Trying to find out has gotten him into worse trouble than anything else in his short, miserable life. He's done looking.

Until one day, out of the blue, the truth finds him.

He's a Raksura; more specifically, a Raksuran consort: a fertile male, the only Raksura capable of breeding with a queen. Consorts are supposed to be delicate, sheltered, shy creatures brokered in alliances and never straying far from their home court. A feral one is nearly unheard of - he's automatically presumed to have committed a great and terrible crime, to have been banished. A queen takes him in, then, not out of mercy, or any desire to breed him and further her line, but out of a feeling that a Raksuran consort shouldn't be out here alone, and after all, he's awfully pretty, and indulgently helpless. There are multiple queens in any court, all gathered under the Reigning Queen. Crow is an unwanted, strange oddity, titillated over, a unique fascination, for all the court, men and women who make up the sterile warriors and the fertile but flightless arbora.

Will he sink or swim in a world of politics when last week, it was a struggle just to find shelter and food?

ALTERNATE VERSION OF THAT PLOT:

Taiga is a bratty consort, grown up pampered and spoiled in a court.

But the time has come. A foreign queen is here to solidify a trade agreement, and the rumors of the beautiful consort who's just come of age leads her to agree to him as the consort to solidify the deal.

Only one slight problem.

A few weeks before the queen is due to fly in and take him away, Taiga viciously and unwisely insulted a queen come personally to lend her weight behind creating a powerful trade agreement. That queen is one of the rulers of a court fighting an active war - a court known for its viciousness and bloodthirstiness.

The queen, vicious and bloodthirsty herself, can't shake Taiga's insult - or the way his pretty face looked while giving it - from her mind. Now that he's of legal age, she arrives as well, with the intent to either fight the queen who'd laid claim to him and take him in her stead, a time-honored tradition among Raksura, or steal Taiga - a practice that is looked down upon but fairly common, though it can lead to sparking a war between the courts. What's stealing, you ask? Well. In our world, we'd probably call it kidnapping. Taking a consort without his birth queen's and reigning queen's consent, or when already bound to another queen.



Potential Starter

Starter

What do you do in your final hours at home? Many consorts talk amongst one another on the proper way to say goodbye, when they leave for their new queen's court. Quiet introspection; hugging friends and leaving lovers; preparing one's body to please the new queen.

All warned stringently against this, which was barricading himself in his room in the bower for consorts of his lineage and ignoring any annoyed, weary attempts to summon him to meals and parties, like Taiga was doing now. The reigning queen had decided for him where he was going, as it was done, and Aurora Sea wasn't the worst of the possible options. A gamely sister queen had been drawn to his loveliness and presumably didn't fear his cutting tongue.

It was true he was lovely, with long, soft golden hair like silk and a face that many thought made him look like a doll, a statue, a painting done in careful repose; in both forms he was distinctly lovely, known for it, a fact that had gone straight to the boy's head. He hadn't had to wait long, upon coming into maturity, for his match. It was all very simple, which is how the worst problems come about. He was mature enough to take a queen, now, and he was taken.

He wanted the process done with.

He heard a knock on the door and simply grunted, refusing to get up from his long stretch on the bed, one ankle over the other, hands interlaced on his chest. His pointed chin was tipped back with a fierce scowl marring it.

A warrior with dark blue scales with a crimson undersheen came in, one of Taiga's favorites, Fig, an occasional lover. "The reigning queen wants you downstairs, looking presentable."

"Does she," Taiga said. He hid the flicker of horror that made his heart flutter in his chest. Was she here, so soon? The queen whose face he couldn't recall? His lips twisted up further, angry with himself over that slight tell.

"Taiga. You can't fight her will on this. It'll be infinitely more embarrassing if you're dragged down there to meet them by a queen."

Taiga growled deep in his throat, but the warrior wasn't moved. He crossed his arms stolidly.

Taiga asked, "And why, pray tell, is it any business of yours what I do?"

He saw it too clearly, that they sent his lover. They'd try a clutch mate next, but Fir and Balsam wouldn't move him anymore than a fucktoy, he'd be pleased to report to them.

"It's not your queen," Fig told him, softly. There was no appealing to better nature with Taiga—only appealing to worse. "It's that queen you insulted, the one who couldn't stop staring at you for the rest of the party."

Taiga finally cracked an almond eye and turned his head. "Her?"

"Yes. Wouldn't you like to come down to see the spectacle?"

Taiga paused briefly, trying to decide whether to be offended by his wheedling, his knuckles turning white. Finally he sat up, graceful and languorous. "Very well. Help me with my toilette, would you?"

He didn't just go down. He submersed in the private consort baths as arbora attendants scattered herbs and petals. They swam about him in little whirls of his body, while he shredded the rose petals to bits as he bathed for something to do with his nervous hands, and tried not to see the gentle indulgence in the arbora's faces.

He rubbed his skin with subtle balms, and had his long hair woven into a braid and inlaid with flowers. He put on fresh clothes, briefly had his claws attended to, and was carefully loaded with jewels. He was the youngest consort of the reigning queen's line, and his time of maturity had been only weeks ago; a net of pearls was placed over his hair, his one pierced ear hung with a fang earring that was gifted by his mother after a successful battle against a vicious enemy who he couldn't remember or name. He painted his face subtly, as was the habit in his court, but slapped the wrist of his attendant, batting away the headdress that would have marked him a member of Midnight Sun.

He lost his family today, and he'd not meet either the upstart bitch who he'd delighted in making squirm or his to-be suitor still in Midnight Sun's regalia.

By the time he had come downstairs, the queen's greetings had already progressed to the point that the queen was laid out in the reception hall before his mother.

The wood of the mountain tree in the cavernous reception hall had been burned deeper black and lighter grays, as was Midnight Sun's tradition, into a beautiful mosaic of a Reigning Queen with her wings spread, the model of so many generations ago her name had been lost, as had the name of the artist. He knew from those who'd visited other courts that they were unique for painting with patterns of burning; most courts carved their art onto the boles of the tree.

His reigning queen Dusk was resplendent, a massive copper-bodied queen with bands of yellow threaded through her coat like an adder; of impressive size and lineage, with more consorts born to her and her consort Mint over the years than she perhaps could remember.

By the time Taiga entered, the feasting was well underway, but one glance at his mother from a private viewport of the reception hall as he walked in gave Taiga the impression that Dusk was contemplating eating this queen, not treating with her.

Taiga was just glad to have a vent for his childish anger at the life he was born to lead.

He walked in with supreme self-possession, folding to his knees and bowing to the queen and her party.

"Taiga, of the line of Dusk and Mint," he heard, and started naming the others of his lineage idly in his head, getting to Midnight Sun themselves as he knelt onto the pillow put out for him with his eyes downcast.

"I think we all know what this is about," Dusk said, sounding a bit like her teeth hurt from smiling.

Taiga slit his eyes up at her, cocking one sculpted brow, because he didn't.

REVENGE SERVED COLD - 1195 A.D., Palestine[/b] [DOM M WANTED]


The peace has come after the brutal third crusade. Palestine is licking its wounds. Further bloodshed seems ever-more inevitable, as neither side can keep itself from war. Saladin negotiated the terms of a truce that allowed Christian pilgrims free entry into Palestine, and access to the city of Jerusalem to pray. God help the pilgrims who go farther—and one small group did, heading into deeper Palestine, where they were captured and imprisoned. A Welsh boy named Gareth Maddox was among those kidnapped by the Muslims.

So the gist of this game is, the boy Gareth served as a young page to a knight, and came to Palestine out of Christian repentance after basically joining a small cult of people that wanted to make amends to Palestinians. They meet a caliph whose wife and son - just Gareth's age - were raped and murdered by the Christians. The caliph is happy to visit some of the same horrors onto this Christian boy.

BLACKMAIL OF A SUPERHERO [DOM M WANTED]

Karim Mahmoud Magdi is Onyx, just one of many loosely organized crimefighters trying to make the city a better place. He's famous, well-known, flashy, his sister's exosuit making him able to compete with metahumans and monsters.

And then one day he fucks up.

He was so famous that a little boy saw him collaring a dangerous criminal with kinetic powers along with an 18-year-old up-and-comer with the Spirit Detectives. The nine-year-old bolted over to help, and both Karim and the other super let go of the power-suppression cuffs at the same time to wrangle the child to safety.

The next few seconds are a blur, but during them the teenage detective's head and the adoring child's entrails hit the pavement, and the badguy got away scott-free.

Every second since then, Karim has expected the slurry of news, to lose his license to protect New York, the lawsuits and media coverage and shame.

Nothing.

Little does he know, a powerful blackmailer and news mogul has caught the story, intending to use his leverage to make Karim his plaything. But really, a workplace accident isn't such a juicy story. He needs to manufacture more blackmail to control Karim - video taping his rapes and using them to claim he's working as a hooker? That might do nicely.

CAPTURING FAE [DOM M WANTED


Fae have true names, their most jealously guarded secret. With the possession of their true name, they can be held in thrall, forced to do anything within their power. To have a fae’s true name is to control them completely. YC, a werewolf/large monstrous creature, found out Crow’s true name, Beast, the old fashioned way: by threatening his family. Now, unimaginable power—and a beautiful but unwilling faerie—is held in YC’s grasp.

ANY GENRE


KIDNAPPING [DOM M WANTED]

I read an excellent webcomic called Killing Stalking and now I am nearly frantic for a real, violent kidnapping. Some possible plotlines: my character stole from yours, and your character pays him back with interest. Traditional stalking that ends in kidnap. Blackmail of a police officer. Blackmail of a family member, ending in Lima Syndrome so my character becomes too important to kill. Just, an actually awful character and duct tape and a basement—or something more sophisticated, or pre-modern, you do you. Bring on your serial killers! Make it hurt.

THE CULT [DOM M OR F WANTED]


This could be modern, historical, high fantasy, sci fi, wherever. Just, my character being dragged into a cult. Whether the cult is the state religion and my character can't escape it (think: The Handmaid's Tale), or whether it's a group of crazies isolating their members from real life, cults are fun. Particularly interested in a boy being born and raised in a cult. The cult can be magic or it can be like any abusive fringe religion. It's whatever! Just, cults. 

ABUSIVE PARTNER [DOM M OR F WANTED]


Basically any story in which you want to play an abusive dom for my boys is appreciated. Did Gareth cheat on your character? Is Karim an easy victim? Give me your abusive doms and I'll love you forever.

GORILLA PIMP [DOM M OR F WANTED]


Mean old pimp gets his hands on one of my boys, and sells their bodies and their souls by the hour, with brutal retribution for failing to satisfy or not bringing in enough money.

MATRIARCHAL SOCIETY [DOM F WANTED]


There's a tendency in media that explores matriarchal societies to either make them men's fantasy worlds where tall, ball-busting women kind of all exist as leather dommes that fulfill every subby man's fantasies. I'm not so interested in that. There's also a tendency to view them as some kind of utopia, without war or prejudice, where racism and classism and certainly sexism are cured and mankind joins hands to fulfill a peaceful future. I'm not at all interested in that, either. I'm interested in something far closer to the actual matrilineal societies that have existed and continue to exist in many places today.

Here's an example of how it would look in a modern Western or Westernized society: Femininity is powerful. The positions and ideals of power are feminine. It's a world where when someone thinks who historically rules a country, they think, of course, a queen. A world where every leader of your country since its birth as a nation was a woman, and people debate whether it's time for a man, whether the country's ready for a man. Where men and maleness are casually linked to weakness and eroticism, to beauty and objecthood. Where people think a man who stays at home to watch the children is being a good father, but a woman who does so is compromising her career. Where nobody looks twice at a fit, waxed, attractive man with an overweight, unkempt woman, on TV or in real life, but it's something of a revelation when a larger man even gets a part in a romance, let alone a leading role. Where a male actor will be cast in romantic roles until he's about 28, and then be moved into doddering father or even grandfather roles, whereas a woman in her 60's will still be starring with twenty-year-old men. All of the houses of congress, all three branches of government, nearly every fortune five hundred company has a woman at its helm. When men fight for equal rights, they're told they never faced the draft, even though nobody has faced that for 70 years and when they did, it was women who instated the draft, instigated the war, and controlled all aspects of the battles that were fought, not to mention penalized the draft dodgers.

You can sort of fit this into any patriarchal society mold and come out with what I'm talking about. I've used modern America for the formula, but you can put it anywhere and the shoe will fit. This doesn't have to be on Earth, though I would especially love playing an alternative history where, for one reason or another, women just became socially dominant over men. It could be high fantasy, where we make a new world, maybe even a new species of creature, like the excellent series of novels by Martha Wells, the Raksura Chronicles, starting with the Cloud Roads, which deals with a matriarchal group in which breeding males are objectified, sexualized, and seen as weak and needing protection.

The manga Ooku is a good example of this, and a model for how we could do this: in that manga, a plague called the Red-Faced Pox wiped out 65% or so of the population of men in Japan. This actually has a historical precedent: the black plague disproportionately affected young men in Europe and Asia. The Red-Faced Pox was just so specific to men that it led to a lowering of the men's population in relation to women's. Naturally, the whole world flipped upside down. If sons don't often live to adulthood, daughters by necessity must be the inheritors--and then they're the only inheritors legally allowed. With no men, why would anyone buy women prostitutes? But male prostitutes--many women can't afford to have a husband. There just aren't enough men going around. If you want a kid, you need semen. If you want semen, a prostitute is a very cost-effective solution for the poor. (Also, women in power can commodify sexuality the same as men in power often have.) Honestly, male prostitutes make more sense than women--no risk of pregnancy to stop work for periods. Since everyone is terrified of their sons getting sick, sons aren't put to work, certainly not to hard labor. In only one or two generations, this leads to the social perception that men are too weak and fragile to handle such things, exactly as happened to women historically. Culturally, what people believe is often what is so for us. Then we end up with a world in which men are the ones sold to their wife's families for dowries, and an infertile, poor or ugly husband might be mistreated or even killed (see: bride burnings in India). Men are under constant sexual threat, and socialized not to learn to fight, and afraid of ending up in the brothels. A lot of societal norms we take for granted would be turned on their head, don't you think?

Anyway, I want to explore that. Historical, high fantasy, modern, really any iteration you want to create with me, just a society where the default gender is women, and in which I play one of my boys.

Note: This one will take some real world-building, and a really unique and interesting female character. This one isn't one I'll be fully satisfied with just straight porn, I preference about 70 story / 30 porn for it, and I will be pickier than the others on this list who I write it with. But please, if you're interested, hit me up! I'd love to talk to you about it.

Sci Fi


IMPERIUM [DOM M OR GENDERQUEER WANTED]


In the year 2185, humans have already been spaceborne for nearly 100 years, and are continuing to grow throughout the galaxy. The slave trade is rampant through the cosmos and human passenger ships bound for remote planets for settlement are constantly under attack from aliens. My boy Karim was born a slave to two former scientists. Escaping at the age of seventeen, he found work and sustenance as a human freedom-fighter, to rectify the position of humans, who have been enslaved by an intergalactic empire and denied citizenship. He and his group ransom people for money to build assets for ships and supplies. In the process of that, he kidnaps a diplomat who's cousin to the Emperor, their most daring heist yet. He bonds with his captive. But of course, a diplomat cousin-to-the-emperor is a lot harder to keep secret than a petty dignitary, so imperial soldiers bust the ship open while Karim's with him (who I always saw as some kind of shapeshifting race, but y'know it's whatever). The ship is cleansed but the diplomat keeps Karim as his slave, spinning an official story that Karim is a hero who sold out his fellow terrorists to help the brave [Imperial race], and I had maybe 1048120831 ideas of where to go from there—all sorts of things, honestly.


Historical

Knowledge of History Not Necessary! Historical Accuracy's Nice, But Unnecessary!
Or, in other words, if you're interested in a historical or historical fantasy prompt but you have no idea what the Qing Dynasty is, I don't care at all, approach me anyway!

REVENGE SERVED COLD - 1195 A.D., Palestine[/b] [DOM M WANTED]


The peace has come after the brutal third crusade. Palestine is licking its wounds. Further bloodshed seems ever-more inevitable, as neither side can keep itself from war. Saladin negotiated the terms of a truce that allowed Christian pilgrims free entry into Palestine, and access to the city of Jerusalem to pray. God help the pilgrims who go farther—and one small group did, heading into deeper Palestine, where they were captured and imprisoned. A Welsh boy named Gareth Maddox was among those kidnapped by the Muslims.

So the gist of this game is, the boy Gareth served as a young page to a knight, and came to Palestine out of Christian repentance after basically joining a small cult of people that wanted to make amends to Palestinians. They meet a caliph whose wife and son - just Gareth's age - were raped and murdered by the Christians. The caliph is happy to visit some of the same horrors onto this Christian boy.

RUINED - 1800 A.D., China [DOM M WANTED]


In Qing Dynasty China (I'm talking our real world's history right now), sexuality between two men was called ji jian, and it was sharply divided. A man who topped another man was a normal man. He could marry, he was free from any persecution by society, he was sort of understood as a man who just liked sex so much he even turned to men. As long as he still married and preformed for his wife at times, there was no disconnect and hardly any shame.

In contrast, any man who allowed a cock into his body was extremely shamed. He was thereafter viewed as having become a woman in his family line. He no longer could marry: if he wasn't married, he never would be. If he was married, his wife's family would often have a divorce, because the shame was far greater than even the shame of marrying a second time as a woman. He'd committed a crime against his ancestors.

Rape between men in Qing Dynasty China was often not prosecuted—it was assumed that if a man was fucked, well, he would have been able to stop it if it wasn't what he wanted. It was usually only prosecuted at all when there was a significant age gap, so basically a man and a child. Otherwise, there wasn't much conception that a man couldn't consent to sex.

This is all the real history, by the way.

Taiga was beautiful, the youngest son of a respected old Mongol family. Arrogant, too—a man who made the people around him miserable. You make enemies that way. Enemies who would delight in seeing your downfall.

They say you can't rape a man, but YC knew how. It was staged, from beginning to end, humiliating and public.

It permanently ruined Taiga immediately, but also put him somewhat on your character's conscience—more accurately, in his control. Shunned by society, shamed in his family, YC pulled off the truest revenge.

But why stop there?

VIKINGS - 820 A.D., Ireland-to-Scandanavia [DOM M WANTED]


Father Luca was only visiting, coming to help get a new Irish saint ordained as a fact-finding mission. He should have been known to be more careful—the monastery he was staying at was sacked by Vikings, and Luca was carried off from the wreckage. YC, the Viking raider, has a lot to do to a handsome young priest of a religion he doesn't follow. Anyway, if back at the lodges in Scandanavia Luca offends YC, well, it's never too late to cut a slave up and feed them to his pigs.

KOWLOON WALLED CITY - 1950s, Hong Kong [DOM M WANTED]


Set in Kowloon Walled City (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kowloon_Walled_City / http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2139914/A-rare-insight-Kowloon-Walled-City.html). Kowloon Walled City was run by crime syndicates. It was entirely lawless: the government of Hong Kong left it totally alone, the only thing they provided was mail service. More brothels than schools in it, and it was always dark, unless you had a place on the walls or next to the roof. It was constructed without the aid of a single solitary engineer. 50,000 people lived there. People ran from the law into it a lot. I've been really considering Taiga and Crow spending their whole goddamn lives in that six-block radius, owned by the triad.

THE LAND OF THE RISING SUN - 1556–1599 A.D., Lisbon, Portugal [DOM M WANTED]


It's the sixteenth century, and the Nanban boeki, the trade of Japanese goods and slaves to Portuguese sailors, is well underway. Crow Masayoshi and his little sister Hana are two such slaves who make the grueling trip beyond the ocean in the hold of a Portuguese seafaring vessel. In Lisbon, the culture is alien, and the status of them as slaves is a special humiliation for the young man. It's made no easier by the attentions of the Portuguese captain who intends to get rich off of training and selling Crow and his sister.

How easily, then, things go awry.

KNIGHT ERRANT — Middle Ages, Many Possible Locations [DOM M WANTED]


Lorne is an Irish servant to a knight on the crusades, when, alas and alack, his master is killed! What's a winsome little redhead supposed to do on these long, lonely marches without his master's protections? Well, find himself a new master, o'course - only this one might not be so kind and gentlehearted as his last.

Historical Fantasy


THE SIEGE OF BAGHDAD — 1258 A.D., Baghdad [DOM M WANTED]


The Mongols have torn Baghdad open and raped her of her prizes. Karim Mahmoud Magdi was a young fennec fox shifter in the great city, here visiting from Egypt when the Mongols came to the gates of the city. YC is a Mongol warrior who has claimed him as his prize after the city's sacking.

CRUSADES - 1099 A.D., al-Andalus/Spain [DOM M WANTED]


It's the year 1099, and magic is real. Most of it is done by the writing of spells, the contracting of demons, and enchanted objects. A rare few humans are born true mages, humans who have magic in their blood. The first crusade has just concluded with the sack and subsequent reclaiming of Jerusalem by the holy forces of Christendom. Crusaders, looking for a place to swing their swords, are flooding the Iberian peninsula—what Christians call the rightful kingdom of Spain—in order to take back the land from the Muslims who've ruled it since the 700's. Karim is a young mage in an Islamic village and Christian knights who are fighting in the Reconquista, just back from the crusade, burn his village to the ground and take him as a captive. Since he's a healer and a plant mage who can secure them food, the knight commander keeps him personally. Slowly, humanity is recognized through different cultures and religions, and something inside him tempts a good Christian knight into sodomy with a heretic—liable to get him shunned, and lose him his position, his reputation, his family and his estate.

MAGICIAN'S FAMILIAR - Late 1800s, Early 1900s, (Possibly on the cusp of entering World War I {1914}) [DOM M WANTED]


Magic is done through the bondage and servitude of magical creatures. Familiars, of which a mage can have just one or several, have unequal rights. British mages compete to contract the most splendid creatures, and put them to the most difficult uses, to make the most magnificent mechanical creations that will win the British Empire its rightful ascendant place over the upstart Germans and Americans, and keep the rest of the world in thrall. [YC is a mage. Young, inexperienced, ambitious? Old and exacting? Arrogant and hard-headed? The choice is yours. MC or Characters is/are familiar/s of YC.]

High Fantasy


EMPRESS [DOM F WANTED]


A war is being fought at sea, and the Empress of Xishan needs a suitable place to set up camp and move the army through. Lord Taiga Hisoka's seaside holding Whitecliff is the perfect place to set up camp. And so the entire Imperial Court is being run from his manse, at considerable personal expense, by an Empress who is delighted to remind the young lord who is ruler of this country, and who ... is not.
Random smattering of ideas for this:
—Taiga's nasty letter about the Empress to a lover is intercepted
—Taiga gets his arrogant ass in deep, deep shit

LORD TURNED SLAVE [DOM M OR F WANTED]


In the ruins of this Earth, the City stands tall. It has always been, and it always will be. The lands outside this supernatural city are impoverished, isolated, producing at paces they can't sustain. But they must sustain them, for a dragon must eat as well as a man, and better he eat cattle than human meat for his dinner. To be a slave is to be the ghost of a person. To be a master is to be without limits. And if the humans suffer and die, they reproduce at a rate no other being can match. Rats die soon, too, but there's never any lack of them. And do you really weep when you put out the traps and poison? The City rules this world, but through the City, Taiga ruled his estate. There are humans who are complicit in the brutality of the City, who aid and abet and make a profit through their sycophancy to the City. Taiga, a young human lord who killed his brothers and their wives and children to ascend to his throne, is one such man. Taiga's brutality and lust for luxury and power led to enemies, which led to a violent climax in which an enemy lord laid siege to his castle, and dragged Taiga out into the ashes of his holdings. Taiga was sold to the City as a pet, to squeeze every last drop of wealth from his former estate, which was incredibly grand for a human's. Taiga is now a slave, and one who dreams of power and prestige.

CAPTURED THIEF [DOM M WANTED]


Crow is a teenage thief taking his sister to a neighboring town to make some money and get her some food. He runs into the prince of the kingdom there, and is caught trying to steal from him. Rather than stringing Crow up by his neck for a hanging, the prince decides to make him his slave in repentance.

DRAGON SLAVE [DOM M WANTED]


Tisu was a terrible dragon, a being of fire and smoke. People feared him. But that was years ago. He fell in love with a woman who was murdered by a God—and in the process of trying to slaughter her murderer, he alienated the governance of the earth, the Gods themselves. He was punished for it, confined to the form of a man, and made a slave of a family of mages. The family has a son, a rare and beautiful occurrence for magical beings, which have low birth rates. Tisu, though a slave, was as much a father to the young mage as his own parent, and in most ways far more so. But the boy he raised, who he sees as a child, wants his dragon teacher and mentor to see him as an adult. The process of that is confusing and a little cruel, since Tisu is a slave and trapped without a dragon's magic, at the mercy of every spell the teenage mage uses on him at whim.

KITSUNE [DOM M WANTED]


Taiga is a kitsune slave, born the slave of his master. His mother is serving a debt in a magic kingdom (I was thinking elves? LoTR-y? Lothlórien-y, if you know lotr, IDK) for a thousand years, and now he is born with that same debt. So he is the personal slave (gift) of his master's son, and at the tender age of 19 the two of them have grown up together and grown apart as slavery pulled them in two directions, master and slave, owner and owned. But both of them are hitting puberty and things inevitably turn sexual and yadda yadda this one most of my ideas are smut for but y'know that can be expanded.

THE DOMINANT SLAVE [DOM M WANTED]


When YC, a violent champion gladiator who's lost his fight, is spared in the last second, he doesn't truly see it as a way out. Nobles buying gladiators out from under their opponents' blades when the crowd chooses death is a time-honored tradition, but in YC's opinion, all this means is now, he has nothing left to lose.

And then he meets his master.

This slight teenage boy, with his bright smile and his innocent mien, his insistence that there's good not only in the universe but in YC, leads YC to take liberties. He was suicidal - he wanted to die a noble death. But getting to take one thing from the masters who enslaved him and killed his family? That would be a death worth remembering. And this stupid, beautiful little thing didn't even lock the door to the room he's kept in.

What YC meant to be one night, one rape, and execution in the morning shifts, however. Karim - his boy master - is determined to rehabilitate the angry, miserable, traumatized slave. He agrees to let the slave rape him, as long as it's him and no one else, since if he ever told anyone what the man was doing, it would be an instant, torturous death - and YC has no intention of stopping.

A fight for a man's soul or the destruction of a boy's innocence. Which will prevail?

THE CHAMPION [DOM M WANTED]


[WARNING: ELLIQUIY-COMPLIANT UNDERAGE.]

The gladiatorial kennels are brutal places. Sixteen-year-old Karim was sent here as a feeder slave, sold by his master after his mother committed suicide. He's only been here a month, but it's a miracle he's even lived that long. Everyone knows he'll die soon. One day, he meets the champion.

Story variation: He's sent in to feed YC, the champion, a dangerous creature with barely any humanity left known for killing those who enter his cage.

Story variation: He meets YC, an a hardened fighter man who decides to trade protection for some comfort with this boy who's better suited for the brothels than the kennel, and finds himself getting drawn closer and closer to young Karim.

QUEEN & CONSORT [DOM F WANTED]


There are many other races in the Three Worlds, but Crow has never found any that were like himself: shifters who flew. Only one race is known to do that: the Fell; predators who feed on groundlings, destroying their cities and towns, eating the inhabitants, stealing their clothes and possessions, and moving on.

Crow knows he isn't a Fell.

As for what he really is? Trying to find out has gotten him into worse trouble than anything else in his short, miserable life. He's done looking.

Until one day, out of the blue, the truth finds him.

He's a Raksura; more specifically, a Raksuran consort: a fertile male, the only Raksura capable of breeding with a queen. Consorts are supposed to be delicate, sheltered, shy creatures brokered in alliances and never straying far from their home court. A feral one is nearly unheard of - he's automatically presumed to have committed a great and terrible crime, to have been banished. A queen takes him in, then, not out of mercy, or any desire to breed him and further her line, but out of a feeling that a Raksuran consort shouldn't be out here alone, and after all, he's awfully pretty, and indulgently helpless. There are multiple queens in any court, all gathered under the Reigning Queen. Crow is an unwanted, strange oddity, titillated over, a unique fascination, for all the court, men and women who make up the sterile warriors and the fertile but flightless arbora.

Will he sink or swim in a world of politics when last week, it was a struggle just to find shelter and food?

ALTERNATE VERSION OF THAT PLOT:

Taiga is a bratty consort, grown up pampered and spoiled in a court.

But the time has come. A foreign queen is here to solidify a trade agreement, and the rumors of the beautiful consort who's just come of age leads her to agree to him as the consort to solidify the deal.

Only one slight problem.

A few weeks before the queen is due to fly in and take him away, Taiga viciously and unwisely insulted a queen come personally to lend her weight behind creating a powerful trade agreement. That queen is one of the rulers of a court fighting an active war - a court known for its viciousness and bloodthirstiness.

The queen, vicious and bloodthirsty herself, can't shake Taiga's insult - or the way his pretty face looked while giving it - from her mind. Now that he's of legal age, she arrives as well, with the intent to either fight the queen who'd laid claim to him and take him in her stead, a time-honored tradition among Raksura, or steal Taiga - a practice that is looked down upon but fairly common, though it can lead to sparking a war between the courts. What's stealing, you ask? Well. In our world, we'd probably call it kidnapping. Taking a consort without his birth queen's and reigning queen's consent, or when already bound to another queen.



Potential Starter

Starter

What do you do in your final hours at home? Many consorts talk amongst one another on the proper way to say goodbye, when they leave for their new queen's court. Quiet introspection; hugging friends and leaving lovers; preparing one's body to please the new queen.

All warned stringently against this, which was barricading himself in his room in the bower for consorts of his lineage and ignoring any annoyed, weary attempts to summon him to meals and parties, like Taiga was doing now. The reigning queen had decided for him where he was going, as it was done, and Aurora Sea wasn't the worst of the possible options. A gamely sister queen had been drawn to his loveliness and presumably didn't fear his cutting tongue.

It was true he was lovely, with long, soft golden hair like silk and a face that many thought made him look like a doll, a statue, a painting done in careful repose; in both forms he was distinctly lovely, known for it, a fact that had gone straight to the boy's head. He hadn't had to wait long, upon coming into maturity, for his match. It was all very simple, which is how the worst problems come about. He was mature enough to take a queen, now, and he was taken.

He wanted the process done with.

He heard a knock on the door and simply grunted, refusing to get up from his long stretch on the bed, one ankle over the other, hands interlaced on his chest. His pointed chin was tipped back with a fierce scowl marring it.

A warrior with dark blue scales with a crimson undersheen came in, one of Taiga's favorites, Fig, an occasional lover. "The reigning queen wants you downstairs, looking presentable."

"Does she," Taiga said. He hid the flicker of horror that made his heart flutter in his chest. Was she here, so soon? The queen whose face he couldn't recall? His lips twisted up further, angry with himself over that slight tell.

"Taiga. You can't fight her will on this. It'll be infinitely more embarrassing if you're dragged down there to meet them by a queen."

Taiga growled deep in his throat, but the warrior wasn't moved. He crossed his arms stolidly.

Taiga asked, "And why, pray tell, is it any business of yours what I do?"

He saw it too clearly, that they sent his lover. They'd try a clutch mate next, but Fir and Balsam wouldn't move him anymore than a fucktoy, he'd be pleased to report to them.

"It's not your queen," Fig told him, softly. There was no appealing to better nature with Taiga—only appealing to worse. "It's that queen you insulted, the one who couldn't stop staring at you for the rest of the party."

Taiga finally cracked an almond eye and turned his head. "Her?"

"Yes. Wouldn't you like to come down to see the spectacle?"

Taiga paused briefly, trying to decide whether to be offended by his wheedling, his knuckles turning white. Finally he sat up, graceful and languorous. "Very well. Help me with my toilette, would you?"

He didn't just go down. He submersed in the private consort baths as arbora attendants scattered herbs and petals. They swam about him in little whirls of his body, while he shredded the rose petals to bits as he bathed for something to do with his nervous hands, and tried not to see the gentle indulgence in the arbora's faces.

He rubbed his skin with subtle balms, and had his long hair woven into a braid and inlaid with flowers. He put on fresh clothes, briefly had his claws attended to, and was carefully loaded with jewels. He was the youngest consort of the reigning queen's line, and his time of maturity had been only weeks ago; a net of pearls was placed over his hair, his one pierced ear hung with a fang earring that was gifted by his mother after a successful battle against a vicious enemy who he couldn't remember or name. He painted his face subtly, as was the habit in his court, but slapped the wrist of his attendant, batting away the headdress that would have marked him a member of Midnight Sun.

He lost his family today, and he'd not meet either the upstart bitch who he'd delighted in making squirm or his to-be suitor still in Midnight Sun's regalia.

By the time he had come downstairs, the queen's greetings had already progressed to the point that the queen was laid out in the reception hall before his mother.

The wood of the mountain tree in the cavernous reception hall had been burned deeper black and lighter grays, as was Midnight Sun's tradition, into a beautiful mosaic of a Reigning Queen with her wings spread, the model of so many generations ago her name had been lost, as had the name of the artist. He knew from those who'd visited other courts that they were unique for painting with patterns of burning; most courts carved their art onto the boles of the tree.

His reigning queen Dusk was resplendent, a massive copper-bodied queen with bands of yellow threaded through her coat like an adder; of impressive size and lineage, with more consorts born to her and her consort Mint over the years than she perhaps could remember.

By the time Taiga entered, the feasting was well underway, but one glance at his mother from a private viewport of the reception hall as he walked in gave Taiga the impression that Dusk was contemplating eating this queen, not treating with her.

Taiga was just glad to have a vent for his childish anger at the life he was born to lead.

He walked in with supreme self-possession, folding to his knees and bowing to the queen and her party.

"Taiga, of the line of Dusk and Mint," he heard, and started naming the others of his lineage idly in his head, getting to Midnight Sun themselves as he knelt onto the pillow put out for him with his eyes downcast.

"I think we all know what this is about," Dusk said, sounding a bit like her teeth hurt from smiling.

Taiga slit his eyes up at her, cocking one sculpted brow, because he didn't.

Modern Fantasy


BLACKMAIL OF A SUPERHERO [DOM M WANTED]


[Supers Universe] Karim Mahmoud Magdi is Onyx, just one of many loosely organized crimefighters trying to make the city a better place. He's famous, well-known, flashy, his sister's exosuit making him able to compete with metahumans and monsters.

And then one day he fucks up.

He was so famous that a little boy saw him collaring a dangerous criminal with kinetic powers along with an 18-year-old up-and-comer with the Spirit Detectives. The nine-year-old bolted over to help, and both Karim and the other super let go of the power-suppression cuffs at the same time to wrangle the child to safety.

The next few seconds are a blur, but during them the teenage detective's head and the adoring child's entrails hit the pavement, and the badguy got away scott-free.

Every second since then, Karim has expected the slurry of news, to lose his license to protect New York, the lawsuits and media coverage and shame.

Nothing.

Little does he know, a powerful blackmailer and news mogul has caught the story, intending to use his leverage to make Karim his plaything. But really, a workplace accident isn't such a juicy story. He needs to manufacture more blackmail to control Karim - video taping his rapes and using them to claim he's working as a hooker? That might do nicely.

CAPTURING FAE [DOM M WANTED]


Fae have true names, their most jealously guarded secret. With the possession of their true name, they can be held in thrall, forced to do anything within their power. To have a fae’s true name is to control them completely. YC, a werewolf/large monstrous creature, found out Crow’s true name the old fashioned way: by threatening his family. Now, unimaginable power—and a beautiful but unwilling faerie—is held in YC’s grasp.

BLACKMAIL [DOM M WANTED]


Borrowed from the amazing fic The Affairs of Wizards. Imagine a world where people born with the ability to manipulate magic are forced to choose between being second-class citizens and working for the government in what amounts to modern slavery. Nothing is more dangerous than being an unregistered magic user, except perhaps being a registered one. Taiga is a crime boss who runs a prostitution ring. He was a prostitute himself, but the favorite of the former boss. He became his second-in-command and then killed him and took over the family. He's also an unregistered magic user.

Your character finds out. Taiga isn't an easy pet to keep, but a fun and beautiful one, anyway.

Modern


THE HITMAN [DOM M WANTED]


YC was contracted to kill Karim. He'd done it many times. Kidnap him - that was the easy part. Torture - no problem, either. Old routine. Put on a ski mask. Point a camera at his face. Fuck him up. It was a job for you. But with Karim - things started getting personal. Rape wasn't unknown with jobs, but you couldn't get enough of it with Karim. Found yourself spending just about every second off camera fucking him. But more than that. You couldn't bear when he was cold, brought him a blanket for his cell. Found yourself brushing his tears when he was crying. And on the day your bosses wired you the money, said thanks for your services, bitch didn't pay up, kill him . . . you made him think he was going to die. Filmed the death video. Shut the camera off with everybody believing he was a goner.

And then you injected him with sedatives and brought him to your basement, to the old mattress and chains that were supposed to be for willing lovers, since you'd always been so good about not mixing business and pleasure, home and work-life balance.

THE ISRAELI-PALESTINIAN CONFLICT [DOM M WANTED]


Gareth Maddox is the Israeli son of a Jewish convert Welsh father and a warm Ashkenazi Jewish Mother. He skipped out of Israel at eighteen to avoid the military service. He's made Mexico City (or another Latin American country's city) his home away from home, and makes his money through car thievery and petty crime, not that that's what he puts on his tax returns. At four AM one lonely night, while stealing a car, he meets the owner - YC, a Palestinian man who recognizes his accent immediately. In 2006, 140 Palestinians under the age of 18 were killed by Israeli troops. YC's 12-year-old son was one of those children. His wife committed suicide, unable to cope with her son's death. YC fled to Mexico to escape their ghosts. Gareth was only twenty. But what did that matter, when the Israelis tried 12-year-old Palestinians in adult courts? When preteen children who threw stones could end up felons? No, YC knew that Gareth, though only twenty, would have been a man eight years ago were he born Arab. He's a petty thief now, with no one who'll miss him or know where he's gone.

A chance meeting turns into an unplanned kidnapping. And that? That turns into an exercise for two men in going too far.

KIDNAPPING & TRAINING CAN BE A LOVE LANGUAGE [DOM M WANTED]


[Multi-threads preferred] You took everything from Taiga. He was eighteen years old, and you kidnapped him from his bright future to break him and sell him as a prostitute. An immigrant from Japan who bragged that no one knew where he was and nobody was expecting him home? It was perfect!

You never expected to fall in love, or to feel mutual respect. You never expected he'd become your second in command one day.

{Looking for someone to play Taiga's backstory out with me. Long road, plenty of ups and downs, lot of room for new directions!}

SILENCE OF THE LAMBS [DOM M WANTED]


In the 1980's, when power suits reigned supreme, Karim was a humble reporter covering national news from his cute bungalow in New Jersey. He covered the killings of an infamous serial killer, YC, who felt unlike other reporters, Karim really understood him. So, he kidnapped Karim with the intent to make him his newest victim, to show him first hand how Gods are created.

TUTORING AN ASSHOLE [DOM M OR F WANTED]


YC is an important legacy student with a mother who's the dean of Hana's school and a father who's boss of the place Hana's doing an internship at. Crow loves his little sister Hana—he became the legal caretaker of her when she was ten and he was eighteen. Mostly, he's tried to keep her safe from the life he lives, and where their money comes from—he's a hooker, not a fashion model, as he's told Hana. YC finds out about his double life, illegal as it is, and uses it to blackmail Crow. If YC talks, Crow goes to jail for prostitution. If YC's father is angered, Hana loses her important internship, and maybe faces repercussions at school. Crow allows things to get way out of hand, trying to protect Hana.

INSPIRATION IMAGES

[Sekah]

Added new historical idea: THE LAND OF THE RISING SUN - 1556–1599 A.D., Lisbon, Portugal. Check it out!

[Sekah]

Added new Modern Fantasy idea: Capturing Fae.

[Sekah]

BUMP! Greatly desiring! Also, if you want to play a non-con dom against a sub m for any other reason, let me know! Other ideas very welcome.

[Sekah]

Added new idea, Matriarchal Society! Hit me up if you're interested!

[Sekah]

Added some fun new ideas: Magician's Familiar, in Historical Fantasy. Blackmail, in Modern Fantasy.

Super hoping for some nibbles on the historical and historical fantasy ideas! I swear guys, I'm not nitpicky or a stickler for historical accuracy. Any level of knowledge of these histories is just fine with me in a partner!!

[Sekah]

Added new modern serial killer idea: Silence of the Lambs!

[Sekah]

Bump! I'm off hiatus and ready to rock and roll!

[Sekah]

Reopened the following prompts: The Cult, Capturing Fae, and Dragon Slave. Get 'em while they're hot!

[Sekah]

Added two new prompts (sorry for two posts in one day, but I just want people who looked before to see that the new prompts are here, in case these catch their fancy): Knight Errant and Empress.

[Sekah]

Added new idea: Kitsune, under High Fantasy! Get it while it's hot!

[Sekah]

Two new prompts put up: Kidnapping & Training Can Be a Love Language, in Modern.

Blackmail of a Superhero, in High Fantasy.

[Sekah]

New prompt: The Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

[Sekah]

Added two new gladiator prompts, both under High Fantasy: The Dominant Slave, and The Champion.

Also, put my four most wanted plots into their own section. Really hoping for some takers for those! Get 'em while they're hot!

[Sekah]

Put up new prompt: The Hitman, in Modern and Most Wanted! Please do take!

[Sekah]

Bump! I'M SO HUNGRY FOR NON-CON! HIT ME UP IF YOU WANNA WRITE IT, I WANNA WRITE WITH YOU.

[Sekah]

Re-opening plot Ruined in Historical! Get it while it's hot!

[Sekah]

BUMP!

[Sekah]

I just opened up the prompts Capturing Fae and Blackmail. Get them while they're hot!

[Sekah]

Re-opened the Hitman.

[Sekah]

Seriously love to get some new partners! Write with me, I'm open!

[Sekah]

Re-opened plot Ruined! Hit me up, I want to write with you!

[Sekah]

Bump!

[Sekah]

Bump!

[Sekah]

New idea: Queen & Consort