Normally I like to shotgun out ten to twenty brief prompts, to get the creative juices flowing. Today, though, I was feeling a little more writerly, so here are three more in depth prompts, each loosely based around a common them. As always, my preferred kinks are, in no particular order: Daddy/daughter incest, slut training, bimbofication, non-con, dub-con, public humiliation, D/s Protocol, spanking, restraint, twisted romance and any other kink that might fit in that same mold, as well as a few I don't often discuss. If any of that sounds like your kind of scene, that you very well could be my type of girl.Objective morality (exactly what it says on the tin).Petting puppies. Being nice to children and believing in their innocence. Giving away your paycheck.Some things are just nice, aren't they? Sure, you may be a cat person. You may not care for the company of children. You might have good need of your money. but if you doubt that these things, in general, are not moral, regardless of who agrees, well all I can say is, simply look around, see what all those good, moral upstanding citizens are doing, praising and lauding.Let's set aside, for the moment, the outliers, such as rabid dogs, budding psychopaths, and skin-head non-profits. I am not against outliers, on any general principle, but those flavors of miscreant really are beside the high-minded point I am trying to make here.Rape. Torture. Slavery. Murder. Some things are just wrong. Don't try to deny it you little strumpet!I suspect that you require an explanation. Too clever for your own good, aren't you? Not to worry. I know how to Speak to girls like you.Let's take Rape, for example. How would you take being raped? How would YOU like it?Just imagine, if it's not too much, If I were to take you. Grab you, manhandle you into submission, tear your clothes, pose you, restrain you if need be, and have my way with you. Imagine a man you have never met forcing himself inside you, violently ravishing you.It's not just about the violence though. Plenty of women love being marked, or going over the knee.I could trick you into allowing (or at least thinking you have) me into having my way with you. Using coercion, or manipulation. Or I could transform you. Change your body to my liking. Bend your mind, turn you into a pathetic, pitiable parody of your current self, a creature barely able to use her words, or to think for more than a half minute about anything other than sex. My obedient, willing plaything, eager to please, desperate for my approval. Or maybe you would still have your pride, yet you would be so stupid and suggestible that I would be able to easily convince you that sexually servicing me with your mouth were an act of feminism.Speaking of torture - that does not have to involve violence, or physical pain either. Imagine the emotional pain I could inflict upon you, by humiliating you, belittling you, or simply withdrawing my affection, expressing my disapproval. Or I could be truly cruel, and give you some momentary perspective. I could restore your intellect, temporarily just so you can remember, for a minute or two, what a shameless, happy little slut your have been reduced to, giving you enough to only to dread your transformation back into that cock-hungry, sex-crazed little bimbo.Would you plead for mercy? Accept your fate with humility? Or would you be proud and defiant? We have not yet discussed virtue, but Pride is one of the most egregious of sins, is it not?The answers to all of these questions I have posed are self-evident. Or at least, they are under normal circumstances, to those with the correct moral orientation. I suspect that you are still gripped by doubt, maybe even that you are an outlier, a miscreant.If this is true, then you are in need of urgent moral guidance. Speak to me in private. I am here to help.(read any good books lately?)Check-Out Girl.It happened at the supermarket, After the world broke. Everyone thought it was going to end, but not, the party goes on. It would take me longer than I think we both have time for to explain exactly why, but these days, there are some things you simply Must do in person. Of course, there is always the Hypothetical Imperative. You Must do this or that if you want to.... Or if you want to..... If we knew each other a little better, We could surely fill in the blanks with answers that applied to you.Confused yet? I'm sure you are. This world I live in is confusing enough to most of us who live here, let alone someone who has never been. Not to worry, it will start making sense sooner or later.So there I was, at the supermarket, having my purchases rung up by the young lady behind the counter. I didn't notice her at first, I was busy emptying my basket. Her neatly painted, colorful nails did catch my eye, but I could not quite place the reason why.Then I looked up, and saw her face. My jaw dropped. It went slack, and I stared. I think I just barely managed not to drool, at least not too much. My heart raced and I was struck speechless.The Real, Material, Physical, Outer world, whichever you want to call it, got a little neater, after the Break. Much more orderly, to the point of being boring.No-one really minds though.You have/had the internet. We have something else. There are a lot of names for it, but none of them really roll of the tongue. Not to your ears at least. Let's call it 'What happens when you close your eyes and think the right thoughts.'Sorry for the Mouthful.Are you the Check-Out girl? If you are, then you've heard the above apology more than a few times.In that world, that's where it happens. Relationships. Commerce. Important deals. War. After the break, you can know someone as intimately as you like, without ever having met them in person. It's all a little hard to navigate, let alone control. Not everyone can. You seem them in work-houses, or on street corners, trying to sell their bodies, or their time (the same thing really), to someone who wants to exercise pity, or slum it for a while.It's not all dull obligations though. There is still room for escapism, entertainment, even eroticism. We don't really do movies anymore more, but we have something like it. You can collect books if you want. We have writings, read aloud, not always by the author. The line between literature and performance has been blurred.Technically, I have fucked the Check-Out girl hundreds of times.That's the only name I have for her. That's what they always call her in the credits. She performs, in different bodies, sometimes a little chubby, sometimes slender. She mostly likes having slightly huge tits. She is always waxed. Is that her choice? or what They make her do? I really can't tell. They make you do so much, especially if you want to be a star. But she is such a consummate performer, and puts so much of herself (or, at least, her persona), into her work. Surely the Authorities would not dare to try and control something as beautiful as her?"Planning a party?"She spoke, as she scanned the box of Booondoggles. That voice. I could not fail to recognize it. I looked up, after emptying my basket, and saw Her. The Check-Out girl. That unmistakable face, and voice. I know Have gone over the same part twice, but that was the effect she had on me. That, and a throbbing erection.In an interview, she once explained her humble-sounding name. It was not self-applied. It was something her agent foisted upon her, in her salad days. A promise, if you will. She was the type of Girl (in the sense of a polite, flattering way to refer to what she actually was, a woman), who could make you forget all your woes, distract you ever so pleasantly from your Real world, and all its vexations. A girl you could check out with.And now, somehow, here she was, scanning my purchases, as I checked her out. She looked every bit as lovely in the face, in the flesh, as it, as she, did, in the ether. Her tits, which strained at her uniform shirt, a little too luridly it suddenly seemed, were slightly below her average size.Say something! Tell her yes at least! Ask her when she gets off! Give her a smile! Anything!thoughts raced through my lust-enfevered mind. I stumbled into suaveness, managing to spit out something Significant, by pure accident, uttering a twist on one of her most common catch-phrases(Good girls wax, but don't show it off. Bad girls just trim, or let it grow wild, and flaunt it. Which are you?)"They should be a tonne of fun!""Oh really? Few things are."She shot back with her reply without missing a beat. A Tonne of fun. One of her favorite boasts, especially when she is performing a 'Bubbly' kind of character."What about people?""People are Lovely, if you know how to look at them."She crooked her head, in that way she has, when she is playing The Dolly, and looked at me quizzically."What time do you get off?"It just kind of slipped out. Like a delayed effect. Her head righted itself, and her mouth opened in a delightfully shocked 'O'."Mister, as an employee of Essence-Mart, I cannot answer such a pointed question!"She smiled, letting me know that it was all OK. I really do not want to come across as That Guy, who claims to have met his favorite Porn actress, voice model, Mo-cap performer, Model, in a super-market. That would be an oddity, even for this world. I KNOW just how strange it is, to claim I exchanged code-words and knowing glances with the love of my life who never knew me, while she rang up my purchases.But that is exactly what happened to me, whether I could make sense of it or not.I finish bagging up my purchases, and as I look back up, daring to make eye contact with this...Goddess, despite having disgraced myself, in ways I could not possibly understand, only Know. My heart leapt as I saw those same delicate nails sliding across the counter, with a pen and paper underneath."I get off all the time, but I finish work soon. Write me down your address, and I'll come visit, if you like."Her low tone was almost a whisper, and somewhere between smoky and husky, as it sometimes was, when she played the Femme Fatale. If this was not Her, then it was a woman who knew and loved Her even better than I did.My hand shook as I wrote, which only started to happen after I remembered my address. It took me a moment. I dropped the pen, but only once. She picked up the note, and read it back to me, to confirm that I had communicated clearly. My some miracle, I had."Thank-you."I can't believe I didn't stutter. It was all I could think of to say. She already had another customer, so I collected my bags and hobbled out, remembering on the way that I still had an erection to conceal, and that I had so much preparations to do back home, on the off chance that this was really going to happen, and was not a prank, a cruel trick, or a hallucination.Or/Or Not.We live in a utopia.A real one too! Not one of those made up impossible worlds. One where you'll never grow too old, or get sick, or go hungry. You don't have to work on anything you don't want to. A really swell place, you can be sure of that. Oh, I know what you're thinking: This is all going to end in tears. We will all run out of things to do, and start tearing up the place just start some fun.Well, I don't mind saying, that's a little arrogant of you. You've just heard about this place a minute or so ago. We have been thinking about it for longer than you can imagine. We conquered boredom a long time ago. Don't you worry. This place has just enough of a dark side to keep things interesting. There's something, and someone, for everyone. Hell might well be other people. I wouldn't know, never been. All I know is, heaven can be too, as long as you understand that everyone has their own tastes (which may or may not be unique), and match people accordingly.(As an aside, and just between you and I, I think they might have had a similar epiphany Down Below).Up here though, we live according to the Transcendent Trinity:DeserveWantNeedEach and every one of us gets just enough of all three, each according to their own, and rarely, if ever, too much. (We have to have some way of punishing you, when needs be, otherwise you might do absolutely anything).Is this Heaven though? Or just a perfect earthly society? Magic, or Sufficiently Advanced Technology? Do you really want to know? We can discuss it if you want, but to be honest it would not be a true utopia if one simply HAD to dwell on those kind of existential questions.I do like the way you think. You're a clever girl, aren't you, what with the 'what about...' objections and the philosophical musings. So, surely, you are waiting to hear about The Catch.THERE ISN'T ONE!........Did you believe me? Of course you didn't! I bet you never took candy from strangers (metaphorically or literally), or got scammed by random unsolicited phone callers in your former life. Nothing gets by you, does it?Very well then, here it is:When you pass through those front gates, you sign yourself up to maybe, possibly, though not very likely be Chosen. Chosen for what, I hear you ask? Well that would be spoiling the fun, and We have found that the whole transitional process goes much more smoothly if the vi...new hires are kept in the dark until it's too late to back out. This is just the way of this world. It really is important, and tends to turn out for the best, a fun time had by all, and all that.(Tell me about your tits. I know that cup size is not the be all and end all, but that will do nicely, if you have limited patience for my dirty male mind).Would you care to step through these shimmering gates?Of course you would!Welcome Aboard!Oh....Oh..My!I see that you have been chosen. Can you feel it? Some can. Some cannot. This really is most extraordinary. I would have to think most hard and inhale a whiff or two to remember the last time someone was Chosen within their first step through the Gates.Not to worry though. At least you won't know what you're truly missing out on, beyond that little glimpse you just had. Appearances can be deceiving though. Try not to dwell on it. You'll look back on all this, after your term of service is up, and laugh, and cry, and express several other novel and composite emotions that are hard it not impossible to name. You will be the envy of all your friends. Assuming, after your little....ordeal, that you will want to have friends, or have the energy to form intimate relationships. The experience of Service can change people. For better or worse? Both!Still, I am sure a bubbly, sociable girl like you will be just fine.Oh, don't look at me like that? Down the Line, you'll thank me, for luring you in here. Have a little faith. This place is run by...entities who care for you, in ways you cannot even imagine. Whether you realize it or not, they know you intimately. They know exactly what you Want, whether you accept that right now, or not.Thank-you for reading.I hope you had a good time, at least half as much fun as I did in the writing. If these prompts three tickled thee, in any way at all, I would love to hear from you. I will be extra nice to you if you have a certain three things to say to me in your reply. via /r/dirtypenpals https://ift.tt/3nmonqW
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