Thread: Dom/Sub Futa/Femboy [Craving Serial Killer] NEW Picture Plots

RE FutaFemboy for Anything Dom or Sub slayerred said Hey there! I am Slayer. I have been roleplaying for a while, longer than I'd care to admit. I enjoy adult-themed roleplays and I like to consider myself a partner capable of writing a reasonable post. I understand grammar, punctuation and plot development. I would be interested in finding roleplay partners of similar talent. I do not have a lot of time to flesh out a well-built search thread. I expect you to be reasonable, patient and intelligent. I do not feel like I should have to explain to you good writing from bad writing. Which in no way is intended to scare off smut fans. I wouldn't be here if I didn't enjoy a good deal of filth. But I also enjoy plotline as well. A nicely written story with some action, suspense, comedy, and peppered with steaming hot sex is ideal to me. I am pretty open to most ideas. I only play Futas and Femboys. Sorry, but that is what I am interested in. I enjoy plots and settings that include Powerplay DomSub Relationships MedievalFantasy Settings SteampunkCyberpunk Settings Shadowrun Universe Dom Futa x Sub Any Submissive Femboy x Dom Male CrimeDetective Plots Science Fiction Fallout Universe Mass Effect Universe Some NSFW Picture plots 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 A MedievalFantasy Starter! The coastal hamlet of Ryogatte was a modest human village nestled on the foot hills of a wide valley. It was a stop for many travelers seeking fame and employment elsewhere, yet one that was unavoidable. It was the only village for another hundred miles in any direction with only one road cutting through it to lend hope for quick departure. Only criminals and nobles dared to bypass Ryogatte as a stop, for the town was ever full of every class of mercenary. This place was known for bloodshed, brothels and taverns, with none to deny themselves the luxuries of anything Ryogatte offered. The midday sun shown softly through a thick blanket of gray skies. Not even light could bear its full brilliance upon the ragged waypoint. The fog hung low, as though to keep this forsaken place hidden from the gods themselves and left the inhabitants to their own devices. The merchants were out in force in spite of the glib day, native merchants accustomed to the perpetual haze while traveling merchants were eager to seize upon a quick coin from the passing clientele. Children were sparsely seen, and even at this early afternoon the prostitutes could be seen in their rouge and lace. A large crowd was gathered along the thoroughfare in front of Kresby's Pub. A natural ring of on-lookers assembled for another scrap, as was common and unavoidable in Ryogatte. The contest before them was rare indeed, one that would shake their notions of gender and strength. On one side stood a ragtag assortment of four men. Two humans, an orc and a troll had gathered to fight a towering woman. Hilda Feldspar was a fabled warrior. Her father was a mountain giant, her mother an unfortunate rape victim who died in the birth of the colossal white-haired woman. She had been raised in a warrior's guild by men who believed her to be cursed or sent from the gods. Every day since she could stand had been a brutal fight for honor, now at the age of thirty-two she was the most hardened feminine being to grace the land. She stood seven-feet six inches tall, the heels of her boots making her a staggering seven-foot eight. Running up her powerful legs was a pair of rawhide leather thigh high boots with bronze greaves protecting her shins, ankles and knees. On her waist was a sort of breastplate that clasped around her stomach and supported her 36JJ breasts. A sleeveless chainmail top was under her bronze breastplate, covering her entire torso with a chainmail hood so that her collar and cleavage were lightly protected. A pair of rawhide leather gloves reached up to each of her shoulders. Her left arm was covered in bronze platemail from her shoulder down to the back of her hand. The skirting of her armor stretched around her immense hips and rode high up between her thighs. Her short white hair was brushed haphazardly to one side, her brilliant green eyes lowered in calculated indifference. The men shouted obscenities to her while she slipped her shield from her shoulders. It was a round shield of solid bronze, four-feet in diameter. She drew her bastard sword, a long blade of five-and-a-half feet in length that was seven inches wide. The shield fell to the ground with a resounding thud that shook the dirt between them and she stabbed her sword a couple feet into the soil. You still have a chance to walk away, she said flatly, her voice boomed out over the jeering crowd in a thick, deep tone. I will never back down from a fight, especially not one with a woman, the orc said, readying into his stance. Hilda smirked to herself, shook her head lightly, then readied herself for the fight. She rolled out her shoulders, cracked her neck on each side with a pop that sent chills down the spines of on-lookers. Her foot slid forward, her fists raised and even hunched over she stood at over six-feet tall. The troll charged in first, arm cocked back for a punch. Hilda feinted to the inside, dodging to the left side of the troll as his arm swung out. Her left arm shot up to deflect the blow and her left knee swung up to crush the troll's ribs on the right side of his body. Her right hand hooked behind the creature's head, her left arm pivoting to strike straightly into the side of the troll's face as she pulled him into the punch. Hilda felt the troll's cheek cave in, felt his teeth snap from inside his gums before delivering another pair of punches with her left. Her right arm snatched the left arm of the troll, planting her feet and pivoting with her left shoulder thrust into the seven-foot beast. She swung him off-balance, throwing him toward a human who tried to feint to her right. Hilda spun on toe to the right, swinging her leg out like a sledgehammer to slam her ankle into the side of a human's head who'd tried to move behind her. The orc had kept to the outside of the fight, seeking an opening to make his attack and finding none. Two of his companions were already out of the quarrel, with the human twitching a death rattle on the ground behind her. Hilda rushed toward the orc, only to pause as she felt a leg kick feebly at the back of her knee. Her head shot back to an awe-stricken human. He put up his hands in surrender and found the giant woman turning toward him. She gripped his head with both hands and pulled him into a headbutt that left a crater in the front of his skull. Blood spewed up from his head and his body dropped slowly to a kneeling position while Hilda turned back to the orc. The greenskin had picked up his battleaxe from the edge of the fighter's circle. He was already rushing back and raised it to swing, but Hilda stepped into the attack. Her hands gripped the handle just above where the orc gripped it. His eyes widened in shock and then he shot across the ground from a sharp kick to his chest. Hilda straightened up and walked casually over toward him with the axe cradled in her grip. No, no! Please! He crawled backwards on the ground. She raised the axe up, then brought it down to cleave him from his left shoulder down to his right hip. His blood sprayed over the crowd, and she was still not done. The troll was on hands and knees, coughing up teeth while he tried to blink himself back to consciousness. He would see the shadow of the towering woman drawing closer, looking to the side to see her approach. I yield! he growled, spitting up more teeth. He reached out his hand to stop her, feeling it gripped in her hand and watching her right leg lift straight up above her head before it came crashing down in the same way the axe had fell on his friend. Her heel smashed into the back of the troll's head, snapping his head forward and causing him to fall flat on the ground like a ragdoll. The white-haired woman stood for a moment, looking over the four dead mercenaries. Her cold eyes leveled at the crowd around her, their gaping mouths and their horrified faces. Her breath was even, controlled. She hardly broke a sweat dispatching them. With the same resolve she walked into the fight, she walked determined to her shield and sword to restore them to her back. No one touch them until tomorrow. I want you all to see what happens when you challenge me, she said simply before walking back toward the pub. The crowd parted for her, giving the towering woman a respectful berth to move through. I only RP over Private Messenger. That's the Private Messaging service BMR hosts. Do not ask me for my IM, I don't use that. And once I add people on IM, then they start to annoy the shit outta me. Click to expand... Im intrested in something. Maybe we could talk.