u/Sad_Pudding_2467

The virus mutation was unintentional. Something that nobody would have imagined as a side effect at all. Who in their right mind would believe that an oil spill synchronized with an internal volcano explosion could bring about such a tremendous, overpowering difference?

The scientists and journalists were scrambling with mock explainations. Anbody near a 500 kilometer radius of the explosion was basically feral now— those people had actually sprouted claws and fangs. Some even had wings. And they had grown taller- more powerful. With eyes that looked like gems from a mine, and if the social media templates were to be believed, they have powers beyond the humane.

But I was far away from it all, right? And moreso, when the outbreak happened, I was in a flying vessel 30000 feet up in the air, blissfully unaware kf anything going on. So when I stepped out of the flight and found middle aged couples engaged in a very passionate, almost savage embrace, I went through several degress of shock, each only increasing with whatever the hell going on. Someone collapsed at the baggage counter with a shaky whisper of ‘alpha’ and did not move until one person- who looked taller and stronger and sharper than most people around us- so much so that his influence made my knees go a little weak- grabbed them by the neck and hauled them up, giving them a well meaning slap. A slap, that made the fainted person open their eyes and beg for more.

All around- there were people behaving differently. Some locked away, trying to hold back their hands or mouths, others coiled in a personal embrace so tight they bled through their own nails. And then there were some- detatched, methodical, almost robot like in their movements.

What was it. When I finally got to collect my luggage, I ran out, avoiding eye contact with anyone all while fighting the unrelentless urge to go and cower in front of some particular people’s feet. It made my head spin. I stopped in front of a digital pillar- gaping at the bulletin. The terms Alpha, Omega and Beta flashed up. Reading the word Alpha itself made my heart flare up, just as another woman fainted close to me. I tried touching her neck, but to no avail, and so I ran to a guard, holding back the urge to kneel in front of him and got him to her.

Fuck. What even was going on? Nobody knew. A desensitized woman stopped me from going into the train station, telling me it was better to take a cab- with yet another desensitized, ghostly person. What was going on? All over social media, news, interpretations, videos of omega hearts giving out with the lack of an alpha touch and alphas fighting breaking out.

There was also this thing called a heat- both for omegas and betas. Where betas would actually feel human and be able to procreate, and where omegas would be most susceptibe, the most submissive, pathetic, needy version of themselves. It apparently worked with cycles of the moon and the periods, and was there was no gender divide when it cane to heats. And alphas had ruts. And knots? Wow. felt my heart lurch, dread washing over me as I tried to put two and two together for my own orientation.

———

I am trying something new. I mostly go for 1x1 tropes and stories but I have left this very open ended. I would like for my girl to navigate this new world order and changing times, stumble across several alphas (if you haven’t guessed, she is omega). What they haven’t figured out yet is that thwre is a binding process that locks an omega to an alpha and that would be the version of themselves closest to normal humans. Mating/Bonding is encouraged, but it is a game of forever, and should be handled wisely. Mating can be done only when the heat synchronises with the rut. We can make it so she ends up mating one of her potential alphas, or maybe she is wary and just decides to go through life…like that? Also I am sure the government would have scemes, experimentation labs, testing grounds, relief centers and what not. We could also easily incorporate several characters and see how things work.

Ultimately, an omega needs absolute submission, and pain and sadism, otherwise their hearts give out. In some cases an alpha can resurrect them, but it needs to be timely. Alphas are powerful, but most of their power goes into their omega- making sure they are safe and happy. Betas are basically robots, no personal feelings or emotions, ideally to cater to alphas and omegas. This is a very raw idea for now, I would be happy to worldbuild with you.

Only a certain quality of writing would be accepted. And that does not mean you use AI- if I get the slightest hitch that this isn’t human, I will block you. Only message if you are capable of worldbuilding, and if our kinks match 80%

Kinks: Power dynamics, BDSM, predicament bondage, collars and leashes, body art, public exposure, exhibitionism, slave training, pet play, ddlg dynamics, possessiveness, after are, passionate sex, rough sex, shibari, punishments, rules, positions and rituals, face slapping, deep throating, choking, clothespins tongue, nipple clamps, humiliation, degradation, stockholm syndrome.

She wouldn’t have imagined herself being here. Bartendering at a scary, barely legal bar that housed one of the largest illegal trades in the continent. But she had to be here. To find her sister.

Edwina was taken three months ago. The modelling agency had pulled her right in, offered her a break, given her the flight tickets and pulled her to England. Heathrow Airport was where her sister went off the radar. Weeks of running around cops, officials and detectives did nothing, and finally, she decided that she had to step up. She had to find her sister herself.

She found the Family after several large deposits made to shady people. She left her medicine course midway, got herself a new name, changed her hair color, flew all the way to london to start waitressing at the very epicentre of what was supposed to be one of the world’s largest human trafficking trade. There was drugs, weapons, pets, everything that you could think of under the sun.

And she had no intention of stopping till she found something out. Even if it meant dancing in front of big burly men, letting them slap her ass and pull out her tits while she served them drinks. She had to find her sister.

But then, the Mafia lord found her. He found her identity, he found what she was up to. She expected to be at the recieveing end of his gun, and for several frightening seconds she was at gunpoint, before he put the barrell inside her mouth and made her suck on it. He then lifted her little skirt, threw away her panties and fucked her with the gun.

She was locked in his car and taken to his home then.

“No more missions for you, you will just be my good little pet.”

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I am looking for something very tropey, dark and intense. A crime syndicate with a ruthless, possessive, handsome mafia boss who gets obsessed with my fiercely motivated OC, and ends up taking her to his place to make her his pet. Whether he is involved or not in the trafficking of her sister is for us to decide, depending on how dark we want this story to be, but one thing is for certain, she belongs to him.

In time, she would learn to reciprocate as wellz

Kinks: Power dynamics, BDSM, predicament bondage, collars and leashes, body art, public exposure, exhibitionism, slave training, pet play, ddlg dynamics, possessiveness, after are, passionate sex, rough sex, shibari, punishments, rules, positions and rituals, face slapping, deep throating, choking, clothespins tongue, nipple clamps, humiliation, degradation, stockholm syndrome.

You had always been bad news. The bad boy- the one with too much money and too many women hanging off of his arms. The man whose attitude and status did all the talking. The one who people feared to speak ill of and yet were jealous of.

It made no sense that we were friends. I was far too good, a dean’s list awardee. One of the brightest minds on campus, a scholarship student, while you managed to pass thanks to your father’s influence. We had managed to click somehow, perhaps because of some accidental shared dark humour or because we had similar taste for the nice things. We couldn’t ever tell.

My boyfriend used to hate it. He hated your guts, and rightfully so, because you had no restrictions when it came to me. You would shuffle up close, put your hands around my shoulders and sometimes even on my waist, or nape. You would lean a little too much when sharing a joke. You would hold my hand, yank me by my clothes, play with my hair.

So when I broke up, I reasoned that it was rational to withhold that development from you. You would have swooped in and taken the kiss that yoj had been skirting around for months, and I did not want to do it with my mind so messed up. I didn’t tell anybody, really, but two weeks in, some drunk bitch babbled the truth in front of you.

And that is where things go dark. How could I keep you from myself was all you could think of? It ws your rights that I had kept hidden away, and you would make me pay. In the form of ropes, denial, pain and exposure, an unravelling that made me totally, and very publically, yours.

---------------------

We can start this at any point. If you want drama, we can do a whole buildup till the breakup, or we can jump right where you find out and confront me.

Also, I don’t want anyone needy or mopey or whiney. I like characters who take and snatch and are villains up front (bonus points if they are flirtatious and seductive about it), and not the ones who try to bring the self-pitying sad guys around. i want a character who takes and dictates, a proper toxic motherfucker who owns the fact that he is an asshole, is the picture of confidence and entitlement. You have to make my character want ti submit to yours.

Only message me if 80% of our kinks match. I only write on discord. I will ignore and block you if you send me some nonsense. Self inserts are not welcome here.

I will only continue writing with you if you can live up to a certain standard of writing. Read through my other prompts to understand just what kinda guys and dynamics I want to write, and accordingly respond.

Kinks: BDSM, bondage (rope, metal, leather, shibari), slave positions, humiliation, degradation, collars and leashes, cages, TPE, master/slave dynamic, exhibitionism, face slapping, casual enforced nudity, outfit control, orgasm control, chastity belts, spit, body writing, erotic torture, painplay, electrostim, roleplay within roleplay.

Limits: Anal, scat, gore, pregnancy, incest, cheating

You had always been bad news. The bad boy- the one with too much money and too many women hanging off of his arms. The man whose attitude and status did all the talking. The one who people feared to speak ill of and yet were jealous of.

It made no sense that we were friends. I was far too good, a dean’s list awardee. One of the brightest minds on campus, a scholarship student, while you managed to pass thanks to your father’s influence. We had managed to click somehow, perhaps because of some accidental shared dark humour or because we had similar taste for the nice things. We couldn’t ever tell.

My boyfriend used to hate it. He hated your guts, and rightfully so, because you had no restrictions when it came to me. You would shuffle up close, put your hands around my shoulders and sometimes even on my waist, or nape. You would lean a little too much when sharing a joke. You would hold my hand, yank me by my clothes, play with my hair.

So when I broke up, I reasoned that it was rational to withhold that development from you. You would have swooped in and taken the kiss that yoj had been skirting around for months, and I did not want to do it with my mind so messed up. I didn’t tell anybody, really, but two weeks in, some drunk bitch babbled the truth in front of you.

And that is where things go dark. How could I keep you from myself was all you could think of? It ws your rights that I had kept hidden away, and you would make me pay. In the form of ropes, denial, pain and exposure, an unravelling that made me totally, and very publically, yours.

We can start this at any point. If you want drama, we can do a whole buildup till the breakup, or we can jump right where you find out and confront me.

Only message me if 80% of our kinks match. I only write on discord. I will ignore and block you if you send me some nonsense. Self inserts are not welcome here.

Kinks: BDSM, bondage (rope, metal, leather, shibari), slave positions, humiliation, degradation, collars and leashes, cages, TPE, master/slave dynamic, exhibitionism, face slapping, casual enforced nudity, outfit control, orgasm control, chastity belts, spit, body writing, erotic torture, painplay, electrostim, roleplay within roleplay.

Limits: Anal, scat, gore, pregnancy, incest, cheating

You had always been bad news. The bad boy- the one with too much money and too many women hanging off of his arms. The man whose attitude and status did all the talking. The one who people feared to speak ill of and yet were jealous of.

It made no sense that we were friends. I was far too good, a dean’s list awardee. One of the brightest minds on campus, a scholarship student, while you managed to pass thanks to your father’s influence. We had managed to click somehow, perhaps because of some accidental shared dark humour or because we had similar taste for the nice things. We couldn’t ever tell.

My boyfriend used to hate it. He hated your guts, and rightfully so, because you had no restrictions when it came to me. You would shuffle up close, put your hands around my shoulders and sometimes even on my waist, or nape. You would lean a little too much when sharing a joke. You would hold my hand, yank me by my clothes, play with my hair.

So when I broke up, I reasoned that it was rational to withhold that development from you. You would have swooped in and taken the kiss that yoj had been skirting around for months, and I did not want to do it with my mind so messed up. I didn’t tell anybody, really, but two weeks in, some drunk bitch babbled the truth in front of you.

And that is where things go dark. How could I keep you from myself was all you could think of? It ws your rights that I had kept hidden away, and you would make me pay. In the form of ropes, denial, pain and exposure, an unravelling that made me totally, and very publically, yours.

We can start this at any point. If you want drama, we can do a whole buildup till the breakup, or we can jump right where you find out and confront me.

Only message me if 80% of our kinks match. I only write on discord. I will ignore and block you if you send me some nonsense. Self inserts are not welcome here.

Kinks: BDSM, bondage (rope, metal, leather, shibari), slave positions, humiliation, degradation, collars and leashes, cages, TPE, master/slave dynamic, exhibitionism, face slapping, casual enforced nudity, outfit control, orgasm control, chastity belts, spit, body writing, erotic torture, painplay, electrostim, roleplay within roleplay.

Limits: Anal, scat, gore, pregnancy, incest, cheating

We had history, and a lot of it. We came from somewhat different world- you came from old money and gad it all, mansions and farmhouses across countries, your own yacht, heirlooms that costed more than people’s apartments and a business empire that spanned nations. I came from a very dicferent strata altogether. Not too rich, but well off enough to live fashionably after my full ride to our ivy leage. We crossed paths in college, and we had what they call ‘history’.

The first time I discovered who you were was when I walked into a private room of a club that I never advertise being a part of and saw a woman suspended upside down, with you swining a whip on her breasts. I had frozen, and stood there like a statue for several seconds before rushing off. I had found myself a bathroom and rubbed myself to release, thrice. Once on my fingers, the second time on the seat, and the third time on my heels.

After that, it seemed as though you devised ways to have me run into you, while you were doing something atrocious. I would confront you about it, you would be cocky, we would argue, pretend that we want to strangle each other, and then storm off. This went on and on till one day I asked you do everything you did to them, and to never bother me again. I spent a weekend in your penthouse, and every minute was spent in me getting reduced to nothing but your slave- tied, whipped, positioned, exposed, humiliated, and worst of all- understood. You got me. You felt my power and you felt my ambition, and you felt my need to submit and feel the hurt. And you hurt me so well, leaving me raw, exposed, and dripping for more. But true to our promise, we never danced around each other again.

Three years after college, I ran into you in a party thrown by one of my clients. My business grew larger day by day, and now I was invited to the upper circles, and a part of quite a few elite spaces- a place I had built for myself. I found out you were engaged, and it was a business deal. You asked me to take up your company’s contract as well, and given the scope of the offer- I accepted it.

But can we get past the connection that we had, and remain as coworkers?

We can start this at any point. If you want drama, we can do a whole buildup to the point where your character leaves his fiancee, at great financial risk, for mine. Or, we could start from the point where the engagement is off and our characters slide into a relationship. Infidelity will not be a part of this story.

Only message me if 80% of our kinks match. I only write on discord. I will ignore and block you if you send me some nonsense. Self inserts are not welcome here.

Kinks: BDSM, bondage (rope, metal, leather, shibari), slave positions, humiliation, degradation, collars and leashes, cages, TPE, master/slave dynamic, exhibitionism, face slapping, casual enforced nudity, outfit control, orgasm control, chastity belts, spit, body writing, erotic torture, painplay, electrostim, roleplay within roleplay.

Limits: Anal, scat, gore, pregnancy, incest, cheating