" we are such stuff as dreams are made on "

But then there was the full force. His moans kept catching in his throat. Any words kept failing to form despite his many attempts. "A...I...a...ah.." was all he managed to get out when he tried to protest the punishment. The punishment wasn't one he'd normally go looking for but he couldn't deny how effective Addison's method were. His cock was throbbing beneath him as he drew nearer to the edge. Which meant the fun really began now. He could have that game of begging for release when he was happy being edged further.

"Treat?" Addison's voice was a low, amused murmur. He remained perfectly still, a granite statue inside the trembling, pliant warmth of Bailey's body. He could feel the frantic pulse of the boy's heartbeat, the way his muscles fluttered and clenched around him, trying to coax him back into motion. It was a silent, begging language, and he was fluent in it. "You have to be more specific than that, little one. You said it yourself. Pets get training and treats. And I'm still deciding which one you've earned."

He shifted his weight infinitesimally, a movement so small it was almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make Bailey gasp, to make his whole body jolt. It was a cruel, masterful tease. He was showing him the full extent of his control, demonstrating that he could grant pleasure or deny it with the barest effort.

"You want to be seen?" Addison continued, his tone contemplative, as if they were discussing a legal strategy instead of the boy's imminent orgasm. He leaned down, the fabric of his shirt whispering against Bailey's sweat-slicked back, his lips grazing the delicate skin behind the boy's ear. "Imagine it. The restaurant. All those people. The clinking of silverware, the hushed conversations. And you, under the tablecloth, your lips wrapped around my cock. That's a treat. Would you like that one?"

He let the image hang in the air, let Bailey's mind paint the picture. He felt the renewed tremor, the choked sob that was half frustration, half arousal. This was the lesson. Not just obedience, but specificity. The law, like desire, demanded clarity.

"No," he answered himself, his voice dropping to a growl. He could feel Bailey's control fraying, could sense the impending tidal wave of release. "That treat is for a very good boy who has followed all his instructions. And you," he gave a minute roll of his hips, dragging his cock over that perfect, sensitive spot inside Bailey, "have been nothing but a brat. A delightful, beautiful, insolent brat."

Like for a starter from either Dorian, Paris or Peridot

Specify if you want someone particular.

Sophie Thatcher

{ SQUEEZE } --- Sender squeezes Receiver's ass too tight to be suggestive.

{ LICK } --- Receiver licks the underside of Sender's jaw.

{ BITE } --- Sender bites Receiver, feel free to specify where!

{ SMACK } --- Receiver smacks Sender in a sensual/sexy way, feel free to specify where!

{ BDSM } --- Sender prompts Receiver into talking about sexual wants and limitations.

{ KINKY } --- Sender propositions Receiver by trying out a new kink.

{ LIP } --- Receiver bites down on Sender's lip.

{ SCRATCH } --- Sender scratches Receiver, feel free to specify where!

{ CHOKE } --- Sender wraps a hand around Receiver's neck during sex.

{ EMOTIONS } --- Sender and Receiver participate in loving, emotion filled sex.

{ HATE-FUCK } --- Sender and Receiver participate in hateful, passionate sex.

{ BANG } --- Sender shoves Receiver against the wall to fuck them.

{ DANCE } --- Receiver does a sexy strip tease or dance for Sender.

{ MUSIC } --- Sender puts on music to set the mood. Feel free to specify which song!

spice and nsfw roleplay meme based around gifs detailed different situations. send a number and a couple (ff/ mm / fm) and receiver will write a starter based around the gifs sent. this meme is nsfw and contains graphic sex*al content, do not interact with this if you are a minor. credit for the gifs goes to this , this, this and this. i did not make the gifs, i only selected those i wanted for this meme.

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

FF / MM / MF

GROUP :

MFM / FFF / FMF / MMM

MFM / FFF/ FMF / MMM

send a pairing, a number and a letter for a usfw started based on the gifs below! bonus points if you specify which muse(s) you want. WARNING: the gifs attached are usfw.

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a ✮ b ✮ c ✮ d ✮ e

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ｍ／ｍ

a ✮ b ✮ c ✮ d ✮ e

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Morgan gently led his brand new pet inside. Hed really only acquired it simply for the novelty of owning a unicorn. The pet was blindfolded, bound and gagged, a creature of such grace and elegance reduced to being treated as a mere animal. He ran his hand over the much smaller man’s body, fingers trailing across smooth skin. He slipped the snug collar in place around his throat, the latch clicking permanently into place, never to be removed ever again. He slid the harness onto him as well, cinching the leather straps firmly into place against his chest. He pulled out the final piece, the tiny cock cage that he locked his new pet into, completing his pets new look. He looked him over, before pressing him to his knees, slowly untying the bonds he had arrived in, then taking the gag off, gently caressing his cheek, tilting his head up to face him as he removed the blindfold

The Summer Prince had been enjoying his time here in the human realms, their ways so strange and alien to him . Hed been exploring, finding his way into the back rooms of a brothel of some sort, or at least that was what it seemed from the sounds around him. Hed felt drawn here, curiosity getting the better of him. Hed entered a small booth, with only a wall with a hole cut low into it. He smirked, seeing the willing mouth on the other side of it, pulling open his pants and sliding his cock through the hole

(Throat) - sender grabs reciever by their throat

(jaw) - sender takes hold of recievers jaw harshly

(wrist) - sender has hold of recievers wrist / wrists

(twist) - sender twists reciever's arms behind their back

(bind) - sender restrains reciever with item of choice

(pull) - sender pulls reciever roughly to them

(drag) - sender drags reciever to / away from something

(hair) - sender pulls or controls receiver by their hair

(pin) - sender pins reciever to the wall

(knife) - sender uses a knife against reciever as a threat

(nick) - sender nicks reciever with a knife

(push) - sender pushes reciever roughly

(eyes) - sender forces receiver to look at them

(neck) - sender grabs the back of reciever's neck

(smack) -sender slaps reciever

(grip) - sender grabs reciever by their shirt

(gag) - sender forces reciever to stay quiet (with hand or with a gag)

(strike) - sender hits reciever with their hand or other item

“Stupid mutt, dogs bark they don’t complain. Bark puppy, cmon bark for everyone.”

But then the contact was gone and it was reminder that he needed to focus in the task at hand. He focused on the task at hand and quickly got his skates off. "Are we going home or out?" He asked softly, his eyes flickering up at Arron. He began cleaning off his blades, taking his time to make sure there wasn't any ice left on them. He slipped the protectors on them followed by placing them into his bag. "I have a change of clothes if we're going out and you don't want me in my skate clothes." He usually practiced in skin tight athletic clothing as opposed to his usual jeans and tops.

Then, Bronte's words landed in the quiet space between them. Soft, conspiratorial, and utterly devoid of shame. "...doing it all with a plug in me."

A profound, predatory stillness settled over Arron. His stride did not falter, his expression did not change, but internally, a slow, cold fire ignited. It was not the crude shock of the statement that affected him; it was the context. The boy was not being lewd. He was integrating Arron's world into his own. He was weaving the threads of their private dynamic into the fabric of his public passion. This was not a suggestion for later; it was a declaration of devotion. A pledge to turn the very art he pursued into an act of worship.

This was excellence of a different, far more intoxicating variety.

They reached the heavy glass doors leading to the parking lot. The night air was cool against Arron's face. He stopped, turning Bronte to face him, their bodies close in the cavernous entranceway. He gently removed his hand from Bronte's grip, only to cup the boy's jaw, his thumb stroking the line of bone with a possessive tenderness. His black eyes, usually so carefully guarded, held a glint of something deep and hungry.

"Your dedication to your craft is admirable," Arron began, the sound a low murmur, a private counterpoint to the city's distant hum. "But your dedication to pleasing me... is art itself." He leaned in, not to kiss him, but to let his words breathe directly against Bronte's ear. "Do not think of it as a plug. Think of it as a constant reminder. A weight inside you. The center of your gravity. Every jump, every spin, every landing will be an act of defiance against it. An act of mastery."

He pulled back just enough to see Bronte's eyes, to watch the effect of his words sink in. "You will not just perform a routine. You will conquer pain. You will channel it. You will transform it into something so beautiful it will make their hearts ache without knowing why." A ghost of a smile touched Arron's lips, a rare, genuine thing that was more terrifying than any scowl. "And when you are done, when you stand before them, flushed and breathless and perfect... you and I will be the only ones who know your true strength. We will be the only ones who know the secret."

There was a soft blush on his face at the thought of having to master everything with a plug. He couldn't help but feel turned on at the thought of performing for judges with it. It'd be so taboo if anyone heard how he was skating. But to please Arron that would all be worth it. The two worlds deserved to be together and he was certain he could get away with that more than being collared. "Every performance will be dedicated to you. When i skate off the rink, you'll be the only one I care about."

"Like you, sir? I should be beneath a real man, like you." Kaius felt confident in saying the words. It clicked in his brain. He did belong beneath a real man, being pretty and pilant. Those words struck a cord in him. He wanted nothing more. Maybe that was why he'd agreed to the auction in the first place. Why he'd even picked the pretty white lace in opposed to the other options. He wanted to be pretty and pilant for a man, for Archer.

He watched as the man seemed to get bigger. He felt like he was shrinking next to Archer. But Kaius loved the size difference between them. It just rang true those words that had been said. He was meant to be beneath a real man. The title of little prince did wonders for him. He let out the smallest if whimpers from it. "Yes sir." He said obidently with a smile. He walked over to Archer, immediately recognising the difference between them. There really was a stark contrast.

He began unbuttoning each button with care. Mostly cause he was worried that these buttons would pop off from all the muscle Archer had. Each button revealed a bit of beautiful skin that he got distracted by. The last couple of buttons, he'd even forgotten to breath. It was only when he felt dizzy did he remember he needed to take a breath. He pulled the shirt off completely and folded it neatly for Archer before placing it to one side.

Archer watched, utterly still, as Kaius fumbled with the last few buttons, the boy's face flushing with dizzying awe and lust. The clumsy care, the way he held his breath, the almost worshipful neatness with which he folded the shirt—each action was a data point, confirming Archer's initial assessment. This wasn't a prince; this was a creature waiting for a master to give him purpose. When Kaius placed the folded shirt aside, it was with the air of an acolyte presenting an offering.

"Then, the boy's hands returned to him. The hesitant touch against the sculpted landscape of Archer's torso was electric. Kaius's fingers traced the hardened ridges of muscle, the lines of old, silvery scars that mapped a lifetime of battles, the dark, tight buds of his nipples. A low groan rumbled in Archer's chest, a sound of deep, proprietary satisfaction. He let the boy explore for a moment, allowing him to feel the sheer, unyielding mass of him, the clear, undeniable difference between their bodies. It was a lesson in anatomy and hierarchy, taught through skin and bone."

"Good boy," Archer murmured, the words a dark caress. His own hands came up to cover Kaius's, stilling their wandering exploration. He guided them, placing them flat against his pectoral muscles, pressing them firmly into the dense, unyielding flesh. "Feel that? That's the strength of a real man. That's what holds you down." He shifted, pressing his hips forward slightly, letting Kaius feel the intimidating, clothed weight of his erection against the boy's much smaller, naked body. The contact drew a sharp, quiet smirk from Archer.

Archer's grip tightened on Kaius's wrists. With a firm, inexorable pull, he guided the boy down. He forced the boy to kneel, looking up, his face a perfect picture of wide-eyed devotion, positioned directly at the level of Archer's belt buckle. The firelight caught in his dark hair, framing a face that was slowly shedding its princely uncertainty and embracing a new, more beautiful purpose.

"Don't make me say the words. You know what your purpose is so do your duty," Archer's voice was a low, commanding rumble, a dissonance from the tender way he now reached down to brush a stray strand of hair from Kaius's forehead. "Open my pants."

Before he could do anything about it, he was on his knees. He looked up at Archer, completely perplexed by what he needed to do. His inexperience was shining through like a light in a fog. The command was helpful for him and made him understand a little more. With trembling hands he started undoing the buttons and zipper. He slowly pulled the trousers down to the man's ankles. He then gripped the other's underwear and began pulling that down.