Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: A King and his Harem (RoleplayMaster x Applepoisoneer)

Margaery pirched herself on the edge of the seat, allowing herself to lean forward, just a little, so that Tommen could see down the front of her nightgown. Our futures are so... uncertain, my king. It must be rather overwhelming to think of. She studied him to see if her words had any effect, then continued. I realize you've had the crown thrust upon your brow, and so shortly after your brother's death. I've never been allowed to properly offer my condolences. She etended her hand for him to take, if he desired to. She hoped that he would, and perhaps even press it to his lips. It might give her a good indication of where to go from here.
Thread: A King and his Harem (RoleplayMaster x Applepoisoneer)

Her actions had a very predictable response. As the beautiful woman leant forward, his eyes quickly travelled down her cleavage, hoping to see some nipple or anything else. While no nipple showed, just the sight of her breasts excited him. Her words did make a small effect on the boy, slowly nodding as she mentioned the idea of everyone's future was an overwhelming thought. Thank you. I am sad to see my brother is now gone. He said formerly. He was not a good brother, and usually if someone replied to condolences without complimenting the deceased, then it meant they had nothing nice to say toward them. But how are you? He was to be your husband? Tommen asked curiously. As he spoke this question, he took the offered hand. After a moment's hesitation which was clearly just from nerves, he kissed Margaery's hand. I offer my condolences to you as well, my Lady.
Thread: A King and his Harem (RoleplayMaster x Applepoisoneer)

She relished the tenderness of the warm, soft lips on her cold hand. The sweet intent that so differed from her late husband, filled her with a feeling of importance second only to being Queen. She didn't want to lose either. In truth, I may not be quite so in-mourning as the court might suspect. She smiled joylessly. I wear black in ceremony, but my soul has spread it's wings beautiful, butterfly wings with many extraordinary colors. She sighed, a little more dramatically than was normal for her. It occurred to her that perhaps opening up this way might not have the adverse effect it would with any other member of the Baratheon clan. He was... incredibly unkind to me, Tommen... She only hoped that the use of his first name would inspire more confidence than indignant. There are those who would be upset by the omission of their title in a personal address. However, she thought the intimate nature of this conversation would call for a change in tone.
Thread: A King and his Harem (RoleplayMaster x Applepoisoneer)

The revelation that he was unkind to Margaery was not a huge surprise, but did bring Tommen a bit of disappointment toward his brother. I understand. He was nice once, when we were much younger. But as he grew, mother coddled him so he became more demanding, and a bully. He explained, reminiscing. He's been unkind to me too, but as a family member, mother had always been there to stop him. She has not always been like that, when his anger is aimed towards others though. I do not wish to rush you, but why have I gotten the pleasure of your company tonight? While I do not wish you to leave, your appearance this late at night seems to hold some importance. Tommen inquired. It clearly is not to do with my brother's death, as he never cared for yourself or me.
Thread: A King and his Harem (RoleplayMaster x Applepoisoneer)

No, he never was. She said resolutely. But I believe you and I both deserve more. If I may be so bold, we deserve better hands than we were given. But perhaps, if you and I bound our hands together, we might both know strength and hapiness. Perhaps, if the fates have woven our threads into the Baratheon tapestry, our destinies are just as entwined. Wouldn't you agree? Margaery saw herself walking a tightrope between being polite and being passionate. She knew she might fall one way or the other too polite and she would lose him, too passionate, and she would scare him away. Or worse.
Thread: Hey you! It's Gintama! (Malfrost and Denna)

Okita waited in his room in the barracks with a grin. He was expecting a fun night tonight. She was quite naive at times it seemed and easy to manipulate. All he needed to do was promise her some sweet and she was apperently willing to do just about anything. He would see just how far she would go as he had two dozen donuts waiting on his bed as he waited for the so called demon swordswoman to show up and meet her obligation.
Thread: Helping Brother | Jan & TooReal |

A massive sigh escaped Ken, and he grit his teeth in what must've been an unfortunate combination of frustration and longing. His pants were all too-tight for the monster that lay beneath them, now, and his heart pounded so fast with adrenaline that it almost felt like drum solo to any death metal song. Sweat ran down his brow, and he clenched the wireless mouse to his computer with one hand, the other planted firmly on the length of his cock, causing friction against himself through the denim of his jeans. Not fair, Ken mentally sighed, switching to the next picture. It just isn't fair... Well, he was right, wasn't he? What younger brother was doomed to have an older sister as attractive, as beautiful, as supple, as perky, and as insanely, impossibly, unbelievably clueless as her ? Looking over the photos he'd taken of Kim at the beach, it was hard to believe she hadn't been intentionally posing herself like that all for him. One shot with her ass hanging out, bikini bottoms caught in a tight wedgie so her thick rear was on firm display, another shot where she was bending down low, her barely-fitting bikini causing her perfect tits to just spill from her too-small top as she looked straight at him. Maybe it's not by accident, Ken rationalized, trying to justify the actions of touching himself to photos of her in his head. Maybe she feels the same way. Maybe I'm just not taking the hint? Maybe this isn't as weird as I'd thought... Still, deep down, Ken knew it was strange, he knew it was wrong, but,, alas, he also knew he didn't really care. His light eyes looked past the curtain of his dark-brown hair, and unbuttoned himself with one hand, reaching in to his jeans to grip at the bare flesh of his fat cock now, pumping slowly on the thick stick of meat. Next picture, this one of Kim in the ocean, with droplets of water spilling between her juicy breasts in the most perfect way. It's just not fair , he repeated.
Thread: Helping Brother | Jan & TooReal |

Snow had shut down work at noon, so Kim was home a few hours early that day. She entered in silence, as was her convention, and spent a moment taking off her coat and backpack, swapping her flats for indoor slippers. She was an attractive girl, attractive enough that she frequently got double and even triple takes from passing men. And sometimes more than innocent longing looks, too. Who could blame them, though? Dark hair, fair eyes, with the sort of porcelain skin that most women coated themselves with makeup to emulate. And then there was her body. She worked out sometimes, but all this did was emphasize the curves she already had. Her belly was lean and so were her limbs, but she was gifted in the TNA department. Very gifted. She wore a DD bra, but she'd snapped bras in that same size before. She'd always been like this from a young age, so she was used to the eyes of men on her. Or so she thought. She made her way upstairs to her room. In doing so, she passed Ken's door, carelessly left open, and happened to glance in at him. Huh? That picture of the girl jumping on the beach--wait a minute, that looked familiar--that was her! Silently she stole into the room, watching as Ken oogled pictures of her. She hadn't gotten a chance to review them before he'd downloaded them off of his SD card... and now she knew why he seemed to continually delay that. These were practically soft porn. Ken, she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, we need to talk. She hadn't seem his nakedness yet, which meant that he had about a half second to play dumb and try to cover himself. If that.
Thread: Helping Brother | Jan & TooReal |

Shit! At the touch on his shoulder, Ken felt himself panic. Who was that? Dad? Mom? No. Worse. Kim!? her brother breathlessly gasped, looking up at her with a swallow. With her standing, and with him sitting, her breasts were practically in his face, and it took an immense amount of willpower to pull his eyes from her pillowy tits, even if they were hidden away behind that top of hers. He swiveled in his chair to face her, but the blood had clearly rushed from his head and to his cock instead, as the young man didn't even stop to think. He swallowed hard, and his eyes widened -- cock already whipped out and hanging limply between his legs, somewhat stiff, bur hardly erect, and at a solid eight or nine inches already, even without much stimulation. I, uh -- I wasn't, I promise, he pleaded, twisting to close her photos out. Ken tried to pull up his jeans, but his cock was in the way and he couldn't quite get them back around his waist. Instead, he only succeeded in throwing his dick around, bouncing off of his thighs for her to witness. Kim, he gasped, heart pounding. I -- I promise, this isn't -- I was just -- ah, shit...
Thread: Helping Brother | Jan & TooReal |

It was quite a lot of meat for Kim to avert her eyes from, but she managed it. In the end she had to hold her hand up to avoid getting more than a glance of that fat long cock of his, but she managed it. And the way her breath quickened in that brief moment--pure coincidence, a direct result of the awkward nervousness of what was going on. She swallowed twice and managed a weak smile at Ken, then she sat down on the chair next to him. I, uhm... think we need to talk, she said. I'm not going to tell Mom and Dad, but we definitely need to talk. She leaned past him and began to click through the photos he'd taken. It was true, half of them he'd taken with her knowledge, but the conglomeration of them made their theme clear... this was pretty much soft porn! You haven't sent these to anyone else, have you? Kim asked. But what surprised her more than anyone else was that the idea of such risque photos of her being distributed... it didn't frighten or disgust her. If anything, it... made her feel excited.
Thread: Helping Brother | Jan & TooReal |

Ken sucked in a sharp breath as his sister moved to claim a seat beside him. Unable to will his erection away, he simply grabbed a nearby magazine from his desk and pitched a tent over his cock in a vain attempt at hiding it, watching uncertainly as she leaned forwards to take his mouse and click through the pictures. Kim--, he started, swallowing hard. When she reached the ones he didn't really want her to see, Ken jumped forwards and placed his hand over hers, guiding the mouse away and exiting out of the photos. I j-just -- no, I haven't shown anyone else, he mumbled, looking at her with embarrassment. I promise, I haven't. I just... it's hard not to look at you. Y'know? Hard not to wonder, hard not to wanna... He bit his lip. What was he trying to say? Frustrated as he was, Ken just decided to let it all out. Hard not to wanna see your tits, or your ass, or everything else. It's -- you're perfect! And I know you're my sister, but that's just not fair. Alright? It just isn't.
Thread: Living Blade (Blood/Fury & deadmanshand)

I don't know why I come to these things, Eilert thought leaning against the edge of the terrace with only the muffled noise behind him to remind him that he was actually at a party. A glass of a good Rekkrvakan brandy and the dull, stiff pain in his leg were his only companions - and they were his long time companions. The first his only source of cheer among the sea of false friends and cold smiles the places contained. The second an endless reminder of why they bothered to invite him and court his favor. It was a bad joke. 13 years of pale faced courtiers currying favor with him as if he was still the Sword of the King. Still the Dragon of Ashes. As if anyone cared about his opinions off the field of battle. In war he was a weapon - sharp enough to cut the wind. In the court he was clumsy. Wielding a blunt, honest tongue like a hammer among the weak bellied, silver tongued nobles. Endless parties and court rituals where everyone said everything other than what they meant. If ever there were a more apt description of hell... , the aching warrior thought with a faint, humorless smile before taking a drink. This party was no different. Thrown by some Duke who's name Eilert would never remember to celebrate how much wealth he had and to show of his taste to the world. The first would have been impressive if every single other noble their couldn't have or had not done the same over the last year. The second was a success though. His taste was definitely on display - and if one liked blandness then it was excellent taste. He never looked up when the door opened but he was aware of her. The laugh, the sigh, the sweet scent of perfume... he listened with no greater visible reaction than another drink. His gaze flickered towards her as she climbed upon the crenelated wall. A brief image of raven hair and blue satin bright in his eyes. When she spoke she finally got his full attention. I suppose I could, Eilert said tilting his head at her before stepping closer with a stiff, almost limping stride and extending a hand. I cannot fault anyone trying to flee this party.
Thread: Living Blade (Blood/Fury & deadmanshand)

She took the hand, grateful for the help, and hoisted herself up slightly. Just enough to turn herself around and reach partway down the wall with her feet. She let her toes scrape against the stone until she found a space that indented slightly where the mortar had failed to seep out between the bricks. She rested some of her weight there, and put more onto his arm, testing how much he was willing to let her get away with. She looked over her shoulder once, briefly, and then back up into the face of the man who stood with her hand in his. Oh, no, no! She said, her eyes wide as though excited about what she was saying. That's not a party, I'm afraid to say. The hand that wasn't clinging to him lifted from the wall from which she precariously hung. She held it up as a fist beside her face, palm turned towards him and covered over by slender fingers. She opened her hand wide, as though to mimic an explosion without sound, the fingers splaying wide. It's a parade! She nearly slipped then, chuckling as both of her hands now clung to his arm, one inside his grip and the other gripping his wrist. And the peacocks aren't even the ones on display! Tell me, what sort of a show is that to invite people to? She set her toes again, momentarily masochistic in her love of the pain they caused. At least this way, she could be sure it was her own toes she was feeling. In approximately three minutes, she confided in her newfound friend. A woman - she'll look a little like me, but better behaved - is going to come through that door. She nodded towards the place she'd made her explosive entrance. She'll be mad. Don't engage. Frankly, they tell me the Dragon is here somewhere, I don't know, I've never met the man, bu- whoa! She giggled again as she nearly lost her balance a second time. It was about time to finish her conversation and make her escape. But even he wouldn't stand a chance against her. My advice to you, kind stranger, is to be gone before she comes. As for me? She suddenly stood up a little straighter. It's about time I wriggle away, I'm afraid. She pushed herself up on her toes as much as she could, and while his cheek was well beyond reach, his fingers made an excellent secondary choice for the soft press of her lips in gratitude. Thank you for your help. But... It's time for me to fly. As though it were a cue, she released his hands, letting herself fall the six feet or so onto the grasses below. Just as she thought she was safe, she stood straight and took a step backward... Only to find her heel caught on some unseen hazard, and the girl tumbled over backward, sliding a little ways down the shallow hill.
Thread: Living Blade (Blood/Fury & deadmanshand)

Eilert held her easily seemingly unfazed by the weight she put on him. His grip strong and steady beneath the soft, black leather of the glove while he braced himself against the wall with his other hand. His almost unnervingly vibrant blue eyed gaze was focused on her. Curious and studying with equal measure the woman he found himself helping. When she looked up and spoke he couldn't help but let loose a laugh. A poor show I'd say, he said smiling now for the first time tonight. Her humor was infectious. Lightening the man's usual melancholic demeanor with but a few words and gestures. Patiently he adjusted his group as she sought her way down listened with great amusement to her every word. Her slip almost stole the humor from him but the giggle that followed reassured him. The Dragon is here, you say? he asked quietly wondering if that were actually true. It was a name that hadn't meant anything for years but he quickly shook off the melancholy. If he can't stand against her then she must be dread indeed this better behaved version of you. Her need to fly tugged at him. In all the parties he'd been to she alone had caught his attention. Others had caught his eye but none had made actually interested. And now with a brush of her lips over his fingers and a whispered thanks she was dropping away without so much as giving him her name. He was still debating what to do when he saw her tumble backwards and before he could think he was up and over the railing. The shock of pain that ran up his leg brought a hiss from his lips but he paid it no mind. Offering her a hand up he said jokingly, I think you must master walking before you can fly.
Thread: Living Blade (Blood/Fury & deadmanshand)

Vivian reached for the hand offered to her, laughing at his words as she pulled herself up though she relied somewhat heavily on the strength of his arm. Tusind tak. She said, getting her feet beneath her again. She could feel the sharp edges of the grass tickling her skin, the cool and damp ground beneath seeping up through the vegetation to greet her. You know, they tell me that frequently. She said in return, grinning at him. Walk before I run, crawl before I fly Personally She looked left and right, even going so far as glancing up above their heads to the wall of the terrace before she gazed back toward him, leaning in to speak. I think theyre afraid of what happens if I trade legs for wings. As she leaned back, she noticed that her tumbling had loosened a few well-twisted pieces of the elaborate hive that comprised her hair. With a grumble, she pushed the few stray ringlets back over her shoulder. Twice a hero tonight. She beamed up at him. She passed an eye over his clothing all impeccably placed and considered his stride. Taking a guess she said, I owe you twice, soldier. She mimicked a salute, imbuing it with all the mockery of a noble fumbling at the gesture, a caricature of how she knew she and those like her must appear to those who made their living by more honourable means. But if Im going to escape before my mother catches me, Im afraid this is my moment. I refuse to be taken alive. She nodded towards the distant reflection of the partys lights above their heads. Its a fate worse than death, behind those lines. She went to make a move and nearly tripped over the edge of her dress, falling down around her ankles now that she was bereft of the ironic stability of the heels shed been so upset about only moments ago. With a huff, she gathered up a handful of her mothers precious silks and wrenched them in such a way that they were out of reach as she started forward again. She made it down the first small hill, approaching a nearby path that crossed in front of the clearing that stretched down towards the lake. Either end of the path disappeared into the forest, useful for a midafternoon stroll beneath the canopy but rarely populated so late at night. Her destination, of course. As she stepped out from the grasses, feeling the lightly-packed soil beneath her feet, she found her heart beating faster and she could not hold the smile back any longer. The outdoor guests would be on the other side of the overlarge birdcage, amongst the gardens and the fanciful maze of hedges, amongst the grand stone fountains and other trappings that flew in the face of every person starving in the lower city. She realized, however, that she was only hearing her own footsteps. She halted, turning back towards him and tilting her head. Well? She asked him with a coy smile. Are you coming? Or will you try your luck climbing?
Thread: Living Blade (Blood/Fury & deadmanshand)

I'm not in much of a climbing mood, Eilert said as he caught up to her in several stiff strides. His manner may have held some of the discipline of the lifelong soldier but the small smile on his face was soft. Amused and interested in equal measure. And I find my present company more entertaining than any to be found back in that parade. To be honest it was the most he'd said to any one person at one of these little exhibitions for years. Usually he just showed up, had a few nobles half heartedly fawn over him, and then fade into a corner with a drink. It was ritual by now. Done without thought or interruption. A holdover from days when the nobles actually cared for his presence or opinion and he still made some pretense at considering them people. Taking a moment he adjusted his clothing with a kind of perfunctory air. Thoughtless and instinctive. Straightening clothes that while finely worked were more at home in the woods than the party behind them. Black and resilient but soft and decorated in silver minimalist designs. It was a spartan look that matched well the high cheekbones and pale planes of his face. It was almost hard to tell where his hair ended and the cloak began. Each as dark and soft as the other - even the silver of the cloth echoed in the silver at his temples. So tell me, he finally said letting his gaze travel from the path before them back to her. Do you make a habit of jumping off terraces? Or is this a special occasion?