Thread: Abandoned Openers

So this was supposed to be a noncon tribal rp, where a white girl in the 50s is trying to reach her husband that serves the army in the pacific ocean for a vacation trip. The ship sinks and she ends up on an island full of primitive black savages that think of her as a gift of the gods and pleasure themselves mercilessly on her. I guess you could say the tags were facefuck, gangbang, interracial, anal, bukkake, rough, forced, rape, dp, big cocks, bareback, facials...stuff like that. Sadly after a certain time of plotting I wrote this opener and never got an answer. Obviously that has happened before but I was kind of sad for this one cause I had high hopes for it. I dont know why it was abandoned, he gave me no reason. Maybe its my writing? See more It had been two months now since Dolores Baker had married Henry Whitaker and therefore became Dolores Whitaker. The young blonde had met Henry only three years prior, right after he had left Germany and got back to the United States in 1949. Having served in World War II, the ambitious man had climbed the ranks quickly due to his leadership qualities and because a lot of his superiors were killed in action. When the war was won, Henry stayed in Germany and was part of the occupation of the defeated enemy. His return as a respected veteran made him a desirable bachelor in his hometown of Vienna, Virginia. Despite all the girls who were pursuing the handsome Henry Whitaker, he had only eyes for the young Dolores, who was the daughter of his aunts best friend. His endeavours were not in vain, as he conquered her heart after having courted her for a few weeks. The slim beauty, nineteen years of age at that time fell for him head over heels and was devastated when Henry got back into service, as he was sent to one of the oversea bases. Nonetheless the couple made it work with lots of letters and in 1951, while Henry was on leave he proposed and without hesitation Dolores said yes. A little less then one year later, Henry, now thirty years old became her husband in a beautiful small ceremony in the large colourful garden of his grandfathers farm. Talk of the town was that there has never been a more gorgeous bride , even though gossip like that made Dolores a bit uncomfortable. She had been raised pretty conservative and still attended church every Sunday where the minister taught the church goers about humility. In small town America around 1950 the classic view of the woman was still predominant. She had to support her husband and take care of the house, all duties Dolores gladly fulfilled for the man she loved. Part of that loyalty was to suppress her true feelings about Henry leaving the country again. This time Army sent him to a remote island in the South Pacific. Being away from him was almost unbearable for the blonde pearl of beauty, yet she had to let him go. When she uttered her fears about his safety he had only laughed, assuring her that he was perfectly safe in the middle of nowhere and that the closest inhabited islands were a few hundred miles away. Furthermore, only primitive native folk lived there who never left their islands and the only point of holding a base in that area is a strategic one on paper. Again they wrote each other letters and a few months later Henry told her to pack a suitcase in order to visit him on the island. With a huge adventure in front of her Dolores excitedly stepped on a plane from the Washington National Airport to Acapulco in Mexico. There she stepped aboard of an old shabby fisher boat which provided a few cabins for passengers. Due to the lack of regular transportation to the pacific islands, Henry had instructed his wife to take a small boat from Acapulco and had even mentioned the name of that particular boat. The Diablo Marino clearly had it's best days behind itself, yet Henry had been clear and so Dolores had wasted no second thoughts on that choice. She trusted her husband and was sure he knew what he was doing. Even when some of the crew men started eyeing her slender body every now and then she felt no need to worry, after all they only stared a little. Humility was one thing, yet she was aware of her pretty face. She was a good Christian, not a blind Christian. The boattrip was supposed to last for three days, so the young blonde woman felt relieved when the second night approached, as this meant it would be the last night in the small shabby cabin which smelled so strongly of oil and rotten fruits. Still wearing the small blouse and the blue skirt she had been wearing all day, Dolores prepared to change in order to go to sleep one last time on that weird little boat. Just before she could grab her suitcase a huge jolt shook the whole boat and a deafening metallic screech masked every other sound that might have been audible otherwise. Dolores fell roughly to her knees and just barely avoided hitting her head on the edge of the bunk. Shocked and disorientated the young woman failed to realise that the whole boat was tilting to its side and only after things in her cabin started to fall over, it dawned on her that she was in trouble. Moments later water started entering the cabin which felt surreal to Dolores, it could not be could it? Her cabin was supposed to be high above the waterline, yet she felt the cold lashing water hit her feet and knees. By the time she managed to get up and make up her mind of how to proceed, the water had risen to her hips already, the cold almost paralysing her. What followed would only remembered by her in a blur. The opening of her cabin door, half swimming half walking through the corridor, the wetness, the cold and most distinguishable, the fear. Never had she been so afraid in her entire life, never had she been afraid for her life. Inside her mind she begged god to help her. She would have begged the crewmen as well yet there was no sign of anybody. Dolores faintly remembered seeing half of the boat submerged and herself holding on to a piece of wood for dear life in the all surrounding darkness of the night on the sea. The next thought her mind was capable of comprehending was the simple fact that she had sand in her mouth. Confused Dolores tried to push herself to her knees, but her arms felt weak and refused to do the job. She did however managed to roll over onto her back, causing her to narrow her eyes to slits in order to avoid the sun of blinding her. Then all of a sudden it came over her, a flash flood of memories entered her head. Henry, the trip, the boat, water, water everywhere and the fear for her life. It's a miracle, she thought and spurred by this thought she managed to sit upright, eyeing the surroundings right in front of her carefully. Water again. Yet there was other things as well. The beach for starters, and while she grabbed a handful of the warm delicate white sand, she spat out the grains that had gotten into her mouth at the same time. She turned her head from left to right and saw trees behind her, yet the head turning was her way of checking for other survivors. Anyhow the beach was empty and so she focused her attention on herself. Glancing over her body she noticed that her shoes were missing, but her clothes were almost dry. How long have I been here? , she whispered to herself and grabbed her right hand in panic, only to take a deep satisfying breath. Her wedding ring was still on her hand. Oh Henry, what have you gotten me into? , she muttered and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.