Terra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
earthen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2012-10-09 08:52 am
earthen) wrote in bakerstreet2012-10-09 08:52 am
The Let's Get Kinky Meme
The Let's Get Kinky Meme
1. Comment with your character. Please include the character's name, canon, and any prefs you might have (ex. "guys only" or "no heavy stuff")
2. Tag someone else! Hit up RNG and roll from 1-20 for a kink, or make something up.
3. Be respectful of other players' preferences. Please avoid wank and all of that negative stuff. Let's all play nice!
4. PLEASE BE WARNED, some scenarios in this meme include triggering content! Play at your own risk.
The light stuff;
1. Tie me up; A little loss of control is nice sometimes, isn't it? One of you is bound, be it with handcuffs or something more extensive, at your partner's mercy.
2. Who's your fantasy; You're not who you usually are tonight. Costume or full on role-play, the two of you are looking to spice things up by playing out a fantasy.
3. Play with your food; Foodplay. Maybe you're covered in whipped cream, maybe you're eating sushi off of your partner's abs. In any case, there's some edible assistance involved.
4. Good clean fun; Whether it was work or play, you're feeling pretty dirty, and you need to clean up. Fortunately, someone else is there to make your bath or shower extra fun.
5. A love/hate thing; They're annoying, infuriating, or just someone you ought to hate -- but they're also hot. Despite bad blood, the two of you can't resist each other anymore.
6. Mysterious stranger; Sometimes you just don't want any strings attached. You don't know your partner's name -- you might not even know their face (masquerades and costume parties are great places to hook up), but all that matters is their body.
7. If you could see yourself; That mirror in the room certainly makes things more interesting. Have you ever wondered what you look like when you're getting down and dirty? Now you know.
8. You can leave your hat on; The clothes are what got you going -- so they're staying on. It may be just socks, it may be most of the outfit, but you or your partner are not taking it all off.
9. When you laugh; There's just something about their smile that makes you smile in return. Whether it's nerves, tickling, or just simple joy, at least one of you will be laughing a lot tonight.
10. Get some help; What's wrong with a little assisstance? Today, the two of you are including some friends in your fun -- plastic ones, that is. They come up with some interest sex toys these days.
11. Show me your teeth; Their skin tastes so good, you can't help but bite down. It may or may not leave marks, but you're going to be doing a lot of nipping this time.
12. A blank canvas; Feeling artistic? Well there's no prettier form than the human one, so you're including your partner in your creative efforts. Body painting, modeling, or any other creaive thing you can think of sound wonderful.
The heavy stuff;
13. Know your place; There's a big disconnect in your social position. Maybe one of you is the boss, a government official, or a teacher. Maybe one of you is quite literally owned by the other. Regardless, someone is in a position of power and will take advantage of it.
14. Take my breath away; There are a lot of ways to have control over someone. Taking away a basic function is a pretty effective one of these. Maybe you'll take away their sight or hearing -- maybe you'll steal the very air they breathe.
15. A pretty picture; It's going to be good, and you want to remember it. Photos or video will be taken of your bedroom exploits tonight, and it might not be for your eyes only. There's a big audience out there, isn't there?
16. You've been bad; Someone's crossed you, and you're going to make them pay -- in bed. Roleplay or not, this is angry sex with an element of punishment. Make sure they remember what happens when they piss you off.
17. Hurts so good; You can't help it if you want to see them in pain. Maybe they're as into it as you are, and maybe they aren't, but either way you're going to be rough. This could be anything from spanking to bloodplay.
18.The same blood; Maybe you're brothers or sisters. Maybe you're like brothers or sisters. Either way, your familial bond is being twisted in the most taboo of ways.
19. A business venture; Some people go to their lover for sex. Some people pay for it. One of you is in this for the money, and one of you is determined to get what you paid for.
20. Outside influences; It isn't that you like each other. It isn't that you're even interested in sleeping with them, but for some reason neither of you can control, you have to. You'd better make the best of it.
no subject
I'm guessing she's not super into aftercare? Not that that's a problem.]
no subject
As for being into aftercare, she actually is, though it's different with clients; she sees her work as intimate, but certainly doesn't want to encourage clients to feel like she's their girlfriend or anything of the sort. Still, she thinks aftercare is important, even just as a businesswoman -- the more secure her clients feel and the happier they leave, the better for her bank account in the long run, after all.]
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Even better! He is not looking for a relationship (dear god no), but a biscuit, a blanket, and being told he's done well would do wonders.
Anything else you need to know, or you think we should work out? And do you have a preference for who starts first?]
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[Sometimes, Kate assists her—answers the door, leads clients through, gives initial instructions—but that's not so much actual assistance as another part of her clients' fantasies. She enlists Kate's help with more established clients, who know her and who know that Kate will be there, to create a sense of disdain on her part before the session even technically begins. Otherwise, she does everything herself, because her clients come to her for intimacy and privacy—that she's never met Pink before makes that even more important. So Irene answers the door in street clothes, or her version of them, black silk clinging to her. She's smiling, red and wide.]
Hullo. You must be Roger. I think you'd better come in, don't you?
[She always likes new clients. She's grown fond of most of her regulars, and there's a thrill to knowing exactly how to play someone, but a new client presents new challenges and requires intense concentration. That and she's a people person. Always has been, can't help it, loves people (with a part of her always slightly separated from them) and what's more knows how to work them—it is, really, why she's good at what she does.]
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[Pink has lost count of the times he's almost abandoned this whole mad experiment. He's not even sure how he got himself into this -- or at least, that's what he'd say, if he were asked. He can feel his late mother's disapproval looming over him, dark and oppressive. He can feel his ex-wife's derision. But, hell, maybe replacing them with a different kind of female presence -- one that he can seek or abandon at his choosing and who is connected to him in a merely professional sense, maybe that's what he needs. To escape their shadows.
So here he is, despite the anxiety and embarrassment, at her door. At the door where he was promised discretion and understanding, and an end whenever he wants it.
She answers (he'd thought she'd be more frightening, he thought she'd have red hair --) and she calls him 'Roger.' The name he'd given. Because he may have reluctantly accepted the tabloid label of 'madman,' but he'll be damned if he's going to add 'pervert' to it.]
...yeah. [He looks a fright next to her, messy brown hair and worn jumper, black jeans and jackboots and big, dark sunglasses. It does nothing to make him less uncertain and uncomfortable. But he'd be a shite musician if he didn't know how to ignore his anxiety, just wall it up and push on. There's an audience, it's too late to back out now. He steps inside, looking around -- at the flat, at the street outside as he closes the door, at everything but her.]
So...
no subject
So.
I’m sure you recognise me from the pictures. Irene Adler—the Woman—you can call me Miss Adler, though I do accept ma’am as well.
[Her voice is calmly commanding, not stern (not yet) but certainly very much in control.
She holds out her hand without a word; she’s specified cash (an exorbitant amount) in an envelope, to be paid up-front. She looks friendly and slightly predatory, her smile treading a line between wry and reassuring.]
I think you’ve got something of mine, dear.
no subject
Ma'am. [He means to just try out how it feels, but miss anything doesn't seem to suit this woman, at all.]
'course. [He reaches in his pocket, produces the envelope. A question, though, a clarification, before he hands it over. An unconscious grab for a measure of control, an assertion of the power he does hold, here. Not a man who gives these things up easily.] How does this work, then? After this?
no subject
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He worried at his bottom lip for a moment, then holds out the envelope. Onward, Pinkerton.]
Let's get to it, then.
no subject
Let's.
[She relishes the word, taking the envelope and standing back, ushering him down the hall. She recognises him—but it would be bad manners to say. For clients who don't want to be recognised, she offers a special service, free of charge and absolutely unspoken, which involves pretending she lives under a rock and actively avoids the mass media. Few of them actually believe it, but that's not the point. The point is how they play it. It's just one more fantasy for Irene to sell.
Her heels ring out on the floor, and she opens a door on the hallway. This townhouse in a quiet, posh area of London, far away from the overt richness of Belgravia, looks perfectly innocuous; the spacious room she opens the door to doesn't. It's decorated in dark colours, glossy black wood and dove grey wallpaper. Purple accents. Admittedly, the interior design isn't often what jumps out at first timers. There are hard points in the ceiling for suspension, a great deal of black leather furniture with a great deal of straps, and along the walls, a whole selection of impact toys. The point isn't that she plans to use all of them, but that they're there—it's about possibility and uncertainty.]
Well. Come into my parlour. Guided tour?
[She puts the envelope down on a table to the side of the door, where it joins several other slightly more mundane items— a pitcher of iced water and two glasses, a plain black leather box (first aid, but carefully disguised so as not to worry anyone), a mobile phone (though not her primary, important phone). She strides into the room, and casually beckons him to follow. She's watching carefully for how he reacts, through without staring; it's an acquired skill, being able to attune herself to someone else without it seeming too studied.]
I'll get you acquainted with as much of it as possible.
[It's impossible to tell whether that's meant to be a promise or a threat. Her grin is suddenly predatory.]
no subject
He follows her, his boots clicking along with her heels, falling into a matching rhythm after a few steps. Steps into the room behind her, and is immediately taken with it, and all it holds.
He's an intensely curious man when allowed to be, when pre-existing prejudice and self-consciousness and pride don't get in the way. This is one of those times. He takes it all in, silent and wide-eyed, the interest in these strange and beautiful and intimidating objects overwhelming his anxieties completely. Leather and wood and bright metal draw his eye, and his gut twists in nervousness and anticipation, knowing what they're for, imagining their uses, how they would feel. There are some of them, even, that he'd really like to take down and touch, hold in his own hand, but he won't dare to ask about that.
There's one standout -- a very different kind of response -- when he sees the canes. A withdrawal. Stepping back, fear and disgust briefly twisting his face. He turns away from those awful things, and moves his attention onward. Looking up at the suspension points on the ceiling, vaguely suspecting what they're for, and wondering whether they'd really hold that much weight. She speaks, and he looks to her again, half an eye still on the ceiling.]
...all of it. Gonna be busy. [A weak little quip, that, and he knows it. Ugh. But he feels like he has to say something.]
no subject
His reaction to the rest, though, is distinctly promising. She rather enjoys watching him; she remembers what a place like this can look like to someone new to the scene. It has its attractions for old hands, of course, but there's something about the sudden wealth of possibilities where before there were none that is incredibly freeing—if she remembers right.]
Oh, yes. Very.
[She glances up to the suspension points too, theatrically, smiling.]
They're exactly what you think they are. They don't have to be used for strict suspension, of course, though it's a personal area of enthusiasm. One of my more earthbound favourites is to tie a man's hands up above his head and make him struggle to keep his balance while I flog him senseless. There isn't a limit, dear, and your imagination can't outdo mine. Promise. Whatever you're wondering, about anything in this room, the answer's almost definitely yes.
Tell me your safewords, and then you can get undressed.
no subject
The way he stills when she describes the possibilities of the suspension point, and his eyes go back up to it, attention fixing on it completely... something in that scenario she paints has captured his imagination, oh yes. Bound, dangling, unable to flee as she does whatever she wants. He looks thoughtful, like he's trying to put together a question of some kind, and gather the nerve to ask it. But she asks her own question... her demand... and he abandons it. He swallows, trying to remember. They settled on this beforehand. Simple words, easy to remember.]
Yellow for slow down. And red for stop everything.
[He waits for her acknowledgment, her permission, her order. One of those. There are different connotations, after all, to each.]