Stone Town (Erotic RP)

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Certified Subdomain
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
Writing Levels
  1. Douche
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
"Say you'll take me away from this town, Johnny."


"You know I will."

They had parked the car on the ridge overlooking Stone Town, the highway winding up the mountainside behind them. Cassidy leant on the railing and smiled at the houses below. "Far away from all this. Paris. Florence."

"Wherever you want." Johnny approached behind her, a hand on her buttocks where the thin fabric of her red dress was ruffled by the breeze. She leant further to let him caress the shape.

"Why are you so good to me?"

"Because you're worth it."

She turned, her hands coming up to untie the straps of her dress. The top fell down and revealed her bosom, skin soft and flawless in the morning sun. "Fuck me... right here..."

Johnny reached upwards, past the expectant nipples, slipping the sunglasses from her eyes, her blue eyes that dilated then averted. He caught her chin, kept her eyes on him, hearing her moan as he kissed her lips. It was soft, a sensuous well into which they both might drop. But then he broke it off. One hand came to her breast and the other beneath her thigh.

She yelped as he swung her, away from the railing and onto the hood of the sports car, her breasts heaving with her racing breath. Johnny's lips were on her, exploring the curves of her body, his other hand hoisting up the skirt. She cried again as the panties were seized, the thin white fabric pulled along her legs, past her heels, and cast into the wind.

He was inside her in seconds, each thrust pushing her further up the bonnet, his head buried in her bosom. She could not mute herself and every cry and groan was echoed in the hillsides. She matched his rhythm, curving and writhing in time with his thrusts, and for a moment she smiled.

Then another yell as he turned her over, rolling her onto her front. The dress was torn away, Johnny's strength ripping through the red silk, which likewise fluttered away in the wind. She was naked but for her heels, her body pressed on the sun-baked bonnet. He moved into her from behind and she gripped the top of the windscreen to steady herself, her mouth wide, eyes shut in ecstasy.
Day Job

"Tell what you want, cunt."

A hand reached out and savagely ripped the tape across her mouth away, while she was penetrated deeper. Nikki cried out, tears streaming down her face.

"Daddy's cock!"

Nikki was pushed forward, her hands and knees giving from underneath her as her face was shoved into the bed from the intensity of the second thrust.

"I can't fucking hear you, cunt. Say it."

"Daddy's cock! I want daddy's cock!"

The next few moments were agony as the thrusts increased in tempo and depth, leaving very little time between pulling out before thrusting back into her so deep, Nikki felt a painful jab in her stomach. A hand reached out from behind, pinching one of Nikki's nipples before twisting painfully. Between whimpers and gasps, Nikki chanted over and over into the sheets, as if the words were a secret spell to bring her more pleasure, or to keep from succumbing to the pain.

"Daddy's cock, daddy's cock . . ."

Suddenly, the thrusting stopped, and before Nikki could register what was happening, the hand on her breast moved to her scalp.

Nikki moaned as her head was violently wrenched back by her hair.

"Suck me off, cunt."

Nikki's mouth was filled to the brim, the head of the cock pushed in to the hilt, and down her throat. Nikki closed her eyes, stinging with more tears, and focused on sucking the cock as it thrust in and out of her mouth.

"Ah, fuck, I'm gonna-"

* * *

Nikki finished dressing, quickly checking her appearance over in the mirror. Satisfied by what she saw, Nikki turned back to face her client, who was currently lounging on the hotel bed; a cigarette rested between her manicured fingers, a satisfied expression on her heavily-made up face.

She still wore the strap on from before, a light buzzing sound came from the clitoral stimulator. It was still on.

Silently, Nikki gathered her money from the table, then approached the video camera still perched on its tripod. She removed the DVD from inside and left it on the table.

"It's all there," was all she said to the older woman still lounging in her euphoria.

"Good," she took a long, smug drag of her cigarette, "that'll teach that cheating bastard." This wealthy older woman purred.

"And that was pretty good sweetheart, but I wouldn't quit my day job if I were you."

Nikki resisted the urge to tell this woman that this was her day job, and left her in her hotel room for her night job.

* * *

The Proletariat, a hole in the wall coffee shop that was located inside of an old house. It was open until 3AM and only served to sober up the drunk crowd before they stumbled their way home. Nikki had been working here for three years, and every day she swore she would quit.

Tonight was no exception.

What she really needed was her day job to pay more than her night job.

The next morning, the daughter of that same wealthy old heiress was about to have her own... adventure

Jessica Dunstan edged across the cream-white carpets, her every step taking her further through her bedroom and towards the door of the ensuite bathroom.

You can use my shower, - that's what she had said to Natalie after the tennis game had left them both soaked in sweat. It was a hot day, hotter than either of them had expected, and just as Jessica had not predicted the weather, nor had she predicted that those five little words would lead to this.

You can use my shower.

She had meant it innocently, of course, but as she waited by the pool of her father's mansion, the thoughts had come, one by one, slowly creeping beneath her skin.... thoughts of Natalie, up there, in her shower, using her soap, wrapping herself in her towels.

And now, as Jessica tiptoed towards the half-open doorway, it was clear in her heart the real reason she had invited Natalie over for the game.

The heiress to the Dunstan fortune was still in her tennis gear, a white shirt and miniskirt damp with sweat, her blond hair clinging to the wet expanse of her bosom. And she grew only grew hotter as she stepped into the steam of the bathroom and gazed towards the shower cubicle.

Natalie was there, her body half-seen through the glass as water traced her beautiful curves. She was athletic - more than Jessica - every part of her pulled tight, her dark hair immaculate. The sight of her moving on the tennis court had been arousing enough, but now... as she showered... it was more than Jessica had ever dreamt of... in those dark, sinful dreams she could never tell her friends about.

And now, like a dream, she was led and her hand reached out, gripping the rail of the shower door and sliding it back.

Natalie spun, holding back the sweeps of her dark hair, her hands making no effort to cover herself. For only the briefest moment she seemed alarmed, and then the smile came back - the smile she had kept for Jessica ever since they were at school together.

"Jessy, what's wrong?"

"You're..." Jessica's voice caught as her heart fluttered, "You're just so..." A tear broke and she lowered her head.

"Hey..." soothed Natalie, catching her chin and leaning in, "It's okay."

Jessica looked up again, trying to find words. But it seemed those words had already been spoken, silently, in the language they had shared with one another in half-glances and whispers. For in a moment of euphoria, miraculous and all-releasing, Natalie brought her lips to Jessica's.


She pulled her in, bringing Jessica beneath the downpour of water, her tennis costume soaking almost immediately. The kiss intensified, their lips and tongues exploring each others mouths. Natalie's body was as firm as she imagined, tanned skin and athletic hips caressing her. She closed her eyes and her body became loose in Natalie's arms, allowing the taller girl to peel the clothes from her. First came the top, then the bra, the hot water hitting her breasts and followed quickly by Jessica's hands. She moaned, even as the skirt came down and her legs were hoisted up to wrap around Natalie's waist. She pinned her to tiled wall, the kisses moving over her face and neck.


She was in just her panties, skin touching skin, Natalie's hands moving to every inch of her, like every dream and fantasy, only tenfold. For a moment it almost overwhelmed her and she felt herself coming, but then Natalie broke away. Jessica opened her eyes as the girl took her hand and led her from the shower.

"Come on."

Water dripped from their bodies and cold air goosepimpled their skin. Natalie led Jessica by the hand from the bathroom and into the lavish bedroom, swinging her towards the kingsized bed. Jessica fell with a gasp and then writhed as Natalie's lips came onto her stomach and thighs. She edged up, getting comfortable, allowing Natalie to straddle her. Dark hair fell around her body and all she could see was Natalie's breasts, hovering over her mouth. She sucked them, bit against the nipples, drinking her flesh like water.

And then her arms were pulled. She felt the silk strips coming around her wrists. Somehow Natalie had found them - the restraints her boyfriend, Mark, had brought the other night when he tried in vain to rekindle her interest in him. Natalie had found them in the drawer... or perhaps they had been on the dresser all along. But she was going to use them... in a way that Mark never could.

Jessica moaned as Natalie tied her to the posts of the bed, the silk strips trailing over her shoulders and breasts. And then Natalie stood back up, taking a moment to gaze at her friend, before reaching for her panties. They came down, slowly, snagging on the contours of her hips and the sweat of her thighs, passing the knees, sliding down the calves then over the ankles and away.

She was naked. She was bound. If her father came in now, there would be no excuses, no explanations. Jessica had made her decision.

Slowly, Natalie stepped up onto the bed, placing her feet either side of Jessica's body then lowering. Their midriffs came together, their flesh locking as one, and she started moving, rubbing and thrusting, kissing Jessica more deeply than before. Their skin was wet and hot, sliding easily with the motion and dampening the bed, which creaked with their rhythm.

She could not help it. She cried aloud, her joy resounding from the mansion ceiling as orgasm came.

She came out of the ocean, dark hair flicking back over her head in a spray of salt water. Smoothing it, she began moving up the beach, sun glistening on the flesh exposed around her black bikini. It was a scorching day and one which had begun with thoughts of household chores and email-checking. But the beach had called to her - this quiet patch of shore where no one else seemed to come - and she had answered. The last hour had been spent frolicking in the water and feeling it wash new life into her.

Finally, she accepted that she would have to get back home. But halfway up the sandy beach, she stopped. There was a man amongst the rocks, wearing swim shorts and dark glasses... and he was sitting where she had left the rest of her clothes.

Sitting on her towel.

She moved towards him, cautiously at first, then a little braver as he regarded him. About her age, his torso chiselled like most of the men these days, blond hair in short curls. And the smile he wore as he watched her approach... there was something about it... something that made her want to smile too.

She stopped a short distance away, feeling his eyes rove her figure. And as she straightened her hair again she stood in profile, saying simply, "You're on my towel."

He kept on smiling. Then, in silence, he stood to his full height and scooped up the towel. With slow steps he carried it to her and handed it over. "You're on my beach."

Their fingers brushed each other as she took the towel, clutching it instinctively to her bosom, then drying herself in slow and cautious movements. "I guess I didn't get that memo."

"I never seen you here before. I come here all the time."

"Well... I guess we'll have to share."

She leaned over, drying her legs, feeling his gaze move to her bosom... to the shape of her hips. It was a gaze like the sun's, warm her... making her feel wanted. Silence settled between them again as she finished drying herself and placed the towel over a nearby rock. She turned to see the man tutting, shaking his head as he reached for something from his back pocket.

"You washed off all your lotion."

"It's okay, I've got..." she peered past him, to where her clothes were strewn between the rocks, but there was no sign of her sunblock. Then she looked again at the man, and saw him taking the bottle from his back pocket.

"Allow me."

He gave another smile and she almost blushed. There was a few seconds more in which she weighed him up. Then, with a shy smile, she turned and pulled her hair aside, showing him her back. He moved in, pouring lotion onto his hands, and she bristled as he touched her flesh.

"So, you from the main town?" his deep voice was close by her ear.

"Yeah. I'm a secretary at Nalder's."

"Sounds boring." His hand crossed the strap of her bra and moved lower, working the lotion into her skin in smooth and circular carresses.

"It's a living." She gasped a little as he crouched and ran the lotion down her legs, his broad grip encircling her ankles and then, as he rose, probing a little between her thighs. She found herself blushing again, and was glad he couldn't see her face. His hand ran along the curve of her waist then back to her shoulders and neck. "And you?"

"What I do is never boring."

He circled her, his hands never breaking contact as he worked the lotion down the length of her arms. She let them hang loose, subservient to his grip, their fingers passing through one another's. "Oh yeah? What's so exciting?" She tried to get the redness out of her cheeks.

"Moments like these," he answered before stepping back. He adjusted his shades slightly, poured out some more lotion, then lowered his gaze. "I've missed a spot."

She kept her eyes on him, her mind racing with a dozen ponderings, even as she was captivated his smile and the deep melody of his voice. She followed his gaze then gave a yielding smile. Slowly, she reached behind her back and unclipped the bra, then met his eyes again as she lowered the black straps, one then the other.

It fell away and the sun blazed upon her swelling breasts, erect as she was taken by the pure thrill of unveiling herself to this stranger. He moved in and placed his hands upon her bosom, squeezing for a moment, then starting to work in the lotion. This time she could not stifle the moan. She bucked and swayed as he massaged her, eyes growing every hungrier. Her breasts glistened as her mouth dried.

In a few seconds he was done and he stepped back again, making her feel more exposed as she stood topless before him. He clipped the top back on the lotion and said. "All done."

"Thank you."

"Do I get a reward?"

This time she did not hesitate. She took him by the hand and led him around to the rock where she had placed the towel. And there she made him sit. As he got comfortable she lowered to her knees, her fingers dragging down his toned chest and taking hold of his swim shorts. His beautiful smile came back and she matched it, biting her lower lip as she slid the shorts down his legs.

It was just as she had hoped... just as she had wanted. She gripped his penis, feeling it swell in her hand, harder than any of his other muscles... and then leant down. For a moment there was hesitation as he spread his legs, but then she committed, opening her mouth wide and guiding the shaft into her mouth. She heard him gasp, but then her own muffled sounds of pleasure eclipsed his. She sucked and licked, replacing the dryness of her mouth with the wetness of saliva.

He brought his hands upon her head, running fingers through her hair, holding her against him, guiding each thrust. His penis swelled more and more and it only teased her hunger. She was moaning now, her body burning with lust. She almost lost herself to the moment then suddenly broke away, standing up straight.

He was fully erect... waiting for her. And again, she kept her eyes on his, her mouth half-open with desire. She turned, slowly, and bent over, wanting him to watch... wanting him to see. She slid the panties of her bikini over her hips, feeling the sun and ocean breeze grace the flesh of her buttocks. And with another moan she pulled them all the way down, stepping out of them and turning, showing him everything.

He said nothing. He simply waited. And she moved in, climbing up onto the rock, straddling him. For a moment she held herself above him, but then, with a single motion of euphoria, she slid down and guided his penis inside her, the full length locking into place.

She could not stop now. She lifted and fell, working him faster and faster, her cries becoming louder. His lotioned hands slid quickly and fluidly over her body, exploring every inch, fondling breasts and buttocks. Her own hands were in her hair, moving through it as she thrashed in ecstatic rhythm.

"Yes! Oh God, Yes!" her cries resounded from the rocks. She felt him come and it made her go wild, her last moments all the more frenzied as she sought to pleasure herself before his erection wilted. With a final thrust she orgasmed, her whole body going rigid then spasming with pleasure. Her back arched, her breasts coming up into the sunlight, her buttocks clenching. And then she dropped forward and her full body came into his embrace, bosom heaving as she gasped for air.

She didn't even know his name...

Cassidy tripped on a tree root, her heels coming off as she fell and hit the woodland floor. There was blood on her dress... Johnny's blood... the only thing she had left of him. She screamed and crawled, leaving her shoes behind as she tried to get up again. Johnny's cries were echoing in her mind, along with the last vision of him, spasming as the dagger plunged into his chest.

They had only stopped for a moment. Johnny was hard again and she had made him pull over, unzipping his fly and going down on him. Just one more time, before they left the town and joined the interstate.

He always closed his eyes when she sucked him off. He hadn't seen the killer coming.

And nor did Cassidy. As she got up the killer's hand grasped her by the shoulder and she screamed, stumbling forward over more roots and bushes. The killer's fingers snagged her dress, tearing the straps loose. It fell open, exposing her white lace bra, the breasts beneath stained with blood and dirt. But she kept running, dodging between the trees with terrified gasps.

He seemed to come from nowhere. Knocking her off balance, she fell with the killer's arms around her, thrashing and struggling. She wriggled free, screaming, pleading, but his hands were on her dress again. He got a hold around the hips, pulling her back towards him, and she had no choice... she pushed away and the dress ripped, the red material coming off.

The killer fell back and Cassidy ran, faster now in just her underwear, leaping the bushes, ducking branches. She tore into the woods, away from the car, away from the road, deeper into the evening gloom.

The ground gave way. She lost her footing again and tumbled down the short slope into the rushing stream. Cold water doused her half-naked body and the sobs tore from her lungs. She scrambled, getting to the other side, hauling herself onto the shore.

But he was there again. The killer gripped her by the hair and she screamed as she was pulled up, begging him to stop and clutching weakly at her trapped hair. Then the air was knocked from her lungs as he hauled her against a tree. His hand snagged the bridge of her bra and in one powerful twist he ripped it away. Cassidy felt the cool air against her breasts, her breath leaving her body.

He twisted her hair, making her arch against the tree, her breasts coming higher and for long and painful seconds he stared at her. Then he spun and slammed her face and breasts against the tree. Cassidy felt her panties gripped, the lace pulling upwards against the crotch, almost cutting the skin before they snapped. Naked and terrified, she was forced against the tree, her legs kicked apart, her hair ensnared.

She felt him move inside her, dark and powerful thrusts opening her up, wetting her against her will. She cried out... screamed for help... but they were alone. His breath filled her ears, drowning her senses, and the next thing she knew she was on her hands and knees, bucking with the force of his rhythm.

She could not help it. Her body roused against her mind, the orgasm rising like some creeping terror till at last it burst and it drove him wild. He pounded her like a piece of meat till at last he came and she felt him flood her insides, turning all to darkness. He pulled away and she fell down amongst the leaves and twigs, gasping for air.

She almost lost consciousness, the pain and pleasure like the sickest cocktail.

And then she screamed anew as he seized her by the hair and dragged her further into the forest.
The Muse

It was no big secret that Stone Town was somewhat of a sensation across the country that attracted all kinds of attention from the various schools of media. The porn industry being the main one. However, the town's mystery (the kind of mystery akin to blunt force trauma) did also lure in various, unsuspecting writers from time to time.

The party at Dunstan mansion was in full swing. Anybody who was anybody was attending; the wealthy elite of Stone Town and a plethora of artists, celebrities, writers and their various hanger-ons for the evening.

Eric was wondering just how in the hell he'd managed to get invited.

It had taken him three glasses of wine to muster up the courage to wander up to Jessica Dunstan and strike up a conversation. Jessica was not only the beautiful daughter of the very rich and powerful Richard Dunstan; but as a teenager, she played the role of the sassy teenaged daughter in a the famous family sitcom of the nineties. Her face adorned the walls and minds of thousands of young boys, who all spent countless nights of no sleep masturbating to her visage. Even now, in her mid-twenties, she was still nothing short of inspiring.

"You're Eric Faste," Jessica exclaimed excitedly. "I loved Deerslayer! When does your next book come out? I can't wait to read it."

Eric felt his cheeks redden. She knew him, she liked his writing.

"Well," what could he say? He hadn't written a word. Not in years.

"I'm still working on it, actually. Getting it just right."

He couldn't believe it. Eric hadn't enjoyed a conversation this much with a woman in so long. Jessica was witty and sharp, and had no time keeping up with him in their verbal sparring. They must have talked for hours, because the party goers were getting scarcer and scarcer.

"I think we should continue this conversation in my room," Jessica suggested nonchalantly, putting down her empty wine glass.

Eric felt his heart suddenly beating in his throat.

"Just let me go slip into something a little more comfortable," she purred, and left him waiting expectantly on her bed. Eric's heart was racing, his palms suddenly itchy. Here he was, about to make love to the woman who fueled the pleasure-filled dreams of so many. Perhaps this was it. This was his moment to rise from the wastes mediocrity, to be inspired by this golden-haired muse to write his opus. Eric felt his erection strain painfully with excitement.

Minutes later, the door slowly opened, and there she was. Gloriously naked, holding a silver tray, laden with a small spoon and. . .

The biggest pile of cocaine Eric had ever seen.

Eric could only watch helplessly, too shocked to speak or move, as she sauntered closer, her eyes suddenly predatory.

"I want you to use the spoon," she quietly commanded, the manner reminiscent of the way her character would command her younger brother in the famous sitcom.

"And put as much of this cocaine into my asshole as you can," she took another step closer.

"And then I want you to lick it," closer.

"And then I want you to fuck it."

She was standing over him, now.

Well alright.