u/Gnatsinari

Brooklyn approached the lakeside cottage, a little unsteady in her heels. She had always been an elegant girl, but she'd really outdone herself when her favorite professor invited her to dinner. A tight black turtleneck hugged her chest and almost kept her warm. A leather belt tightened her waist and held up her ivory pleated skirt. Her heels accentuated the curves of her calfs in cream-colored leggings. Her raven black hair was gathered in a carefully manicured mess of a bun. Two curled slut strands framed her pretty face and the gold dangling from her ears.

Of course it was all cheaper than it looked. It didn't live up to the stately elegance of Richard White's home. But if she'd been asked, it wasn't fear of not fitting in that made her dress up. It was a desire to impress Professor White. She'd read his books and already looked up to him and admired him even before getting into his class. The way he wove together misogyny, racism, and class in one seamless critique of power dynamics in sexual relations was enough to make a girl swoon. That is, if you're the type of girl attracted to intelligent, emotionally mature, self-reflective intellectual men, which Brooklyn liked to think she was.

He was her favorite professor and she was his favorite student. One day, after class, he'd asked her to stay behind and invited her to dinner. It was strictly professional, of course. Mr. White was impressed with her essay. He wanted to discuss her career plans, mentor her. Gender studies majors don't exactly have the greatest career prospects, so connections were essential. He'd also mentioned letting her see his new manuscript.

Stepping up to his porch, she took a second to straighten her hair, check her phone, bite her thumb, all her nervous ticks. She was embarrassingly early, but there was nothing else to do. She knocked on the door and waited, picking at her thumbs.

"Hi, Brooklyn! Welcome! Come on in. I was just setting the table." Mr. White was unusually cheerful this evening. Not that she'd ever seen him dour, but he was getting up there in age. Usually he didn't have this much energy. "Do you have a favorite wine?"

Of course not, she thought to herself. She was a broke college student. She bought whatever was cheap. "Something French." Bordeaux, you dumb bitch. "Or anything that's not Israeli."

"What vintage?"

"Dealers choice."

"Right..."

Brook felt like this was off to a terrible start. She was so awkward. While he disappeared into the basement to fetch the wine, she started looking around the house. It seemed he had a thing for antiques. He was a man out of time. A true intellectual of a caliber rarely seen this century. And when she caught a glimpse of his library, it nearly took her breath away. Larger than her apartment, with bookshelves stuffed all the way to the ceiling. She didn't notice Mr. White coming up behind her, already with a poured glass.

"Here you go, dear. Why don't you try some, and I'll check in the roast."

"I thought you were a vegetarian?"

"Oh, well I was..." Richard started to stammer, "I guess I'm trying something new. Morally, I think it's the correct choice of course, but as you get older it gets harder to restrain yourself. I'm sure you'll understand some day."

"Hmm," Brooklyn hummed in agreement and brought the wine to her lips before he could notice her worry. It hadn't seemed necessary to mention it, but she didn't eat meat. The thought of it made her feel sick.

"Is something wrong?" Richard asked. He had a slightly grin, like this was some joke she didn't get.

"It tastes very strong, I guess?" Brooklyn giggled like a dumb little schoolgirl. She had no idea what she was talking about, but she went back for another sip so he wouldn't be offended.

"Oh that. Hahaha! Just... Something I've always wanted to try." He pinched her chin between his fingers and tilted her head back, staring into her deep brown eyes. "I write about this stuff so much, but I've never gotten to try half of it. It's not easy being a man with ethical standards so why not toss them out for a night?"

Her knees gave out, and she found herself splayed out across his Persian carpet. Professor White knelt down over her ass. He grabbed a rag from a nearby drawer and pulled it over her mouth. "I thought about asking for your consent but that would defeat the purpose of our little experiment."

Brooklyn screamed breathlessly into the rag. Her legs kicked and kicked. Richard watched them grow weak and finally fall still while her big brown eyes grew cold and lazily fell closed. He'd done it. She was passed out and at his mercy. He'd planned to pop some Viagra at this point, but after that little struggle, he didn't feel like he needed it. Time to fuck the bitch.

🎬

Hello fellow perverts! Today's a simple prompt, but a nasty one. The premise: Young feminist student gets exploited by her older, male-feminist gender studies professor and sort of niche celebrity crush. He's man who does know better, who's always been good and respectful to women. And doesn't want to do this in the simple, animalistic way men usually do. He just wants first hand insight into the mindset of a true misogynist alpha-male douchbad and she just happens to be the perfect victim.

I don't really have a limit for how far this goes. You can degrade her. Traumatize her. Destroy her.

We can discuss the level of consent, from kicking, screaming, fighting-for-her-life rape, to simply passed out, or even consciously playing along. Maybe she's happy to help her idol, or just relishing the chance to explore her sexuality.

Tag is for characters. I am looking to play the victim this time, and I'd like you to write the professor. I don't care who you are as long as you can write. Obviously this is written for a male professor, but I wouldn't say no to a properly done lesbian take. If you want to play the student, wait untill I'm more in the mood and I'll probably post this again as A4A. Unless we've played together before. Then I'd be open to hearing your pitch.

Kinks (all optional): Kissing, sensuality, intelligence, playfulness, female orgasms, platonic relationships turned sexual, sleeping, cumshots, cunnilingus, interracial, age gap, partially clothed sex, filming, choking, dubious consent, rape, abusive relationships, daddy issues, trauma, misogyny, degradation, drug play, toilet play, light bondage, sabotaged contraception, raceplay, painal, fisting, deepthroat, vomit, beast, violence, blood, gore, pain, fear, snuff.

Limits: Long term slavery, futa, furries, scat, chastity, the word "Daddy," reference pictures.

Send a chat if you're interested.. Please give me something more than a one-liner. Your kinks and limits, your plans, your take on the main character. Just anything, please?

Consider you'll be playing a college professor with published works and write accordingly.

Happy Mother's Day Weekend. This felt fitting, but by no means only open to mothers.

Peter had struck out again. Today was his 27th birthday and he was afraid to spend it alone. He had plenty of friends. That wasn't the issue. What he wanted was a girl. He'd been stuck in a bit of a dry spell recently. Work left him with fewer chances to date than college had, so when he lost his long-term gf, his sex life didn't really recover. He tried, but he was too old to fit in with the young college crowd, not old or established enough to be a sugar daddy. He set his age preference on dating platforms low. Eighteen year old girls texted him and called him a pervert. This new generation were all uptight feminists, it seemed, with a stick up their ass where his cock should be.

That brought him to, wherever it is that you are. This bar, or club, or work event. There's music playing, booze flowing, and people dancing. He's all alone though when you spot this handsome young twink with his dark hair, bright and gleaming eyes, his pale skin and limber young form. Maybe he reminds you of the type of man you'd date when you were younger. Maybe he reminds you of someone you know? A son or nephew, perhaps? A bit younger than you'd usually go for, but you're feeling feisty today. You're not getting any younger yourself, so you let loose your inner cougar and pounce.

In your classy red dress that shows just the right amount of cleavage, you offer him your hand. An invitation to dance. Your girlish grin does nothing to fool him. He's the hot stuff here, but you bring the zest he was lacking and finally get him off his bar stool.

Peter takes your hand and flashes a quick smirk. A polite smile. Nothing more. He thinks to himself, at least today might amount to something. Maybe I won't be going home alone tonight. But as you dance, he notices every little imperfection. The laugh lines, the pores, the drying puckered lips, all poorly concealed by too much make-up. A painted whore and still not that pretty. I deserve better than this, he tells himself, filling with self loathing that he'd let his standards drop so low as to dance with this old crone. What does he have left to lose? He was drunk, lonely, and reckless.

Slowly, he leans in. His hands are on your waist, subtly pulling you in closer until your belly meets his crotch and you can feel his lust pressed against you. A soft breath tickles your neck as his lips brush against your ear and he whispers, "I'd rather fuck a woman half your age."

Pulling his lips back in a satisfied, toothless grin. Enough niceties. Time to let his true thoughts fly. "Let me guess. You didn't even shave your cunt?"

🎬 Cut!!!

Before we dive in, you're probably wondering if I actually think older women have less value. Let me clarify: You should interpret this with whatever combination of irony and sincerity will make you the most horny. I'm not here to challenge the misogynist idea that women are worth less as they age. I'm here to have fun with it. You old hags don't get enough hatred. Everyone wants to hate-fuck some stupid young teenager, but you're the ones who really deserve it.

You're mature enough to appreciate some complexity, so I'm not going to mindlessly druel over you. This has layers. I prefer younger women, and that's what's going to make it so hot to fuck you. The resentment. The shame. The hatred and disgust I feel towards you and myself. And you, what? Enjoying this? Or hating it?

Wether you're pushing 30 or have blown right past it, I want to talk with some overripe fruit. Preferably one who doesn't bruise too easily. I can be respectful if you insist, but I'm I'm looking for someone who likes a bit of playful and degrading banter.

Now, enough beating around the bush. I am open to either roleplaying or just chatting about this. Just please give me something to talk about with your first message.

For a roleplay scenario, I'm pretty much wide open. We can keep things mostly wholesome with some light-hearted teasing. You may not be my first choice, but sex is sex, right? We can still have our fun. Or we can get dark, degrading, and sadistic. Probably still starting consentual and ending, well let's just say well past that. Lastly, I've always had a thing for women hating other women. If you've got any age-based resentments against other girls, I'd be more than willing to help you out wether we're targeting milfs or college sluts.

Obviously you (or your character) must be an "older" woman. I still want to cap it at 49, MILF not GILF. Minimum 28. If that seems young, yeah it is, but that's the fun part. You're "pushing 30," even in your youth, you need to experience existential terror about aging. Irl, I am 25 but I'll play anywhere between 18 and 30.

Kinks: Rough sex. Age gap. Teasing. Flirting. Seduction. Kissing. Misogyny. Female orgasms. Oral. Deepthroat. Cum. Cheeting. Choking. Hair pulling. Spit. Anal. Painal. Degradation. Watersports. Contraception sabotage. Pregnant. Tidy bushes. Smooth pussies. Prostitution. Bondage. Con-to-non. Rape. Gangbang. Fisting. Rimjobs. Raceplay. Vomit. Corruption. Cervix Penetration. Violence. Snuff.

If you want to lean into sadism, you better tell me your limits because I have none. It's entirely optional though.

Limits: Body writing. Scat. Furry. Futa. Intentionally gross characters. Direct incest. Reference pictures.

On a breezy spring afternoon, Cole and Skyler were talking outside the college library. Their books remained unopened. Cole's salad almost untouched. She was yapping about something or another, but his mind was elsewhere: across the campus quad, there was Pedro.

"You are so in love with him," were the only words he registered. Sky giggled softly, girlishly, and touched his arm gently. She pittied him and Cole bristled against it, but he couldn't deny anything. He was down bad for that hot Colombian grad student. Seeing that bronze hunk at the gym had turned into the highlight of his week, and had been all year. Now they were headed into finals season. Soon Cole would be back home and hopefully these thoughts wouldn't follow. New words ripped him from that fantasy. "Why don't you ask him out?"

Skylar had never seen anything like it. A man so deeply, helplessly, pathetically in love. And it was Cole of all men. Sky certainly wasn't an expert on gay male dating culture, but his dalliances always seemed so casual. It made her jealous how easy sex was for him. She'd heard him gush over men before, but never seen him speechless.

Obviously she understood the feeling. The only thing sexier than Pedro's face and body was his voice. It just seemed so unfair to her. In all her years of dating, no man had ever looked at her like that. After all her failed teenage flings, she'd finally found one man worthy of love. Cole was sweet, smart, handsome, funny, and gay. Of course he was gay. Now she had a gay best friend she wanted to fuck, and right as she was getting over it, she's had to watch him fall for someone else. It made her heart ache. Whether it was jelaousy or sympathy, she couldn't say.

Cole turned to her. She was adorable with her soft face and bubblegum pink hair, that slight smirk and tilt of her head when she wanted to look cute. Playing stupid. The look suited her today. She was absolutely clueless. "We're both tops."

He shrugged. There was nothing to be done. "That's it? Come on! You clearly love him. Just go on a date and when it comes to sex, you can work something out."

"It doesn't work like that." Cole tried to ignore her, angrily crunching some lettuce.

Skylar bit her lip and stared across the quad. "Do you think he's bi? Because if you don't fuck him, I might."

🎬 Cut!!!

Hey, so this one is kind of out there. What happens when two tops want to hook up? Well, they get a woman and use her two tight holes as a top-to-top adaptor.

I want to clarify, this is not primarily a gay post. There will be some romantic contact and sexual attraction, but the scenario is intended to preclude any direct sexual contact. Instead I'm more interested in the woman being objectified and used by men with no romantic interest in her. Keep in mind, she's friends with one of them. Is there any chance of that surviving?

Splitting the characters is complicated, but I'm open to anything except me playing both men. Might change if I repost this, but for now that is a hard no. So, options are:

1. I play FM, you play M
2. I play F, you play MM
3. I play M, you play FM

We can go a couple different directions. Mutually pleasurable or objectifying to downright misogynistic. However, in neither case am I looking to cary this on indefinitely. Plan for 1-3 sex scenes before this three-way breaks down or the semester ends and they part ways.

Kinks: Flirting, teasing, hopeless love, outfit descriptions, kissing, passion, slight age-gaps, misogyny, interracial or raceplay, sadism, rough or degrading sex, blowjobs, deepthroating, anal, gangbang, intense female orgasms, cum, spit, facials, drugs, alcohol, dub-con, rimjobs, choking, disrespect, hate-fucking, slapping or spanking, improper use of condoms.

Limits: Incest, scat, cuck, slavery, futa, bimbos.

If you're interested, make sure you've read the whole post. Tell me which post you're replying to, which roles you want, and how you want this to go. Include your kinks and limits. Characters are placeholders, so start thinking about how you'd make your own. Sorry to be a bitch, but I'm not considering low effort replies.