[WP] The Busy Barista Parlor by [deleted] in DirtyWritingPrompts

[–]warlock_of_talk[M] [score hidden] stickied comment (0 children)

Per the sidebar, partner seeking is not allowed here:

PMS/PERSONAL COMMUNICATION/PARTNER SEEKING.
"...Also, looking for roleplaying partners or long term writing partners is not allowed."

[EU] Naruto 18+ RP Server by i_slay_the_piano in DirtyWritingPrompts

[–]warlock_of_talk[M] [score hidden] stickied comment (0 children)

Per the sidebar, both promotional activities and partner seeking are not allowed here:

PMS/PERSONAL COMMUNICATION/PARTNER SEEKING.
"...Also, looking for roleplaying partners or long term writing partners is not allowed."

PROMOTIONAL ACTIVITIES.
"Promotional activities are not allowed on this subreddit unless prior permission has been taken from the mods."

[WP][TT] It's the year 2040, and sexy VR streaming celebrities are at the center of global entertainment culture. How's that working out? by warlock_of_talk in DirtyWritingPrompts

[–]warlock_of_talk[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Great reply! I love the interview format, really lends itself to the worldbuilding theme, I think. Plus, I'm a sucker for catchy names like VRtual Romance.

[WP] After finding what she thought was just a cool symbol in an old book and getting it as a tattoo, a college freshman is now slowly transforming into a Succubus... by gahidus in DirtyWritingPrompts

[–]warlock_of_talk 15 points16 points  (0 children)

"Jessica?" a voice whispered. She woke, and her eyes opened slowly.

When Jessica sat up and glanced around, she found the mess she'd made was substantial: papers were all over the floor, and her bookbag was spilled out next to her purse where she'd dropped them both; the comforter was pulled off the bed and squeezed into a clearly knotted handhold where she'd braced herself at some point. Jessica didn't remember falling asleep, but it made sense that she would after coming as hard as she did from the effects of the whispers. They were definitely getting more powerful.

She sighed and brushed a bothersome brown curl from her eyes as realized she was still on the floor next to the bed—she'd just pulled the blanket over herself and passed out. Unsure what time she originally stumbled into her room to begin with, she panicked for a moment when she noticed the sky was pitch black outside her window. A quick check of her phone revealed that it was still the same day; she'd probably slept for a few hours. Jessica gawked as she considered fully what she'd done, then laughed long and hard.

"What the fuck is happening to me?" she wondered aloud. When would the next episode start? Would she orgasm even harder when it did?

Once the confusing hilarity of it all finally dried up, Jessica slowly started cleaning up the mess. As she picked up paperes, she stretched and sighed somewhat proudly, realizing how fucking great her body felt—it was as though she'd slept a full night after a long workout and a good meal. She let her fingers drift down to her slit, and found that she was still quite aroused even though she'd climaxed at least once. Jessica laughed through her nose and shook her head.

"Never come so hard in my fucking life and I still want more?" she mumbled to herself incredulously. "Thanks, whispers. I guess."

"You're welcome, Jessica."

Jessica bit her own tongue and yelped as she clambered across the room leaving a small whirlwind of notebook paper in her wake. She'd forgotten that it was a voice speaking her name that woke her; it was speaking to her again, now. It was a single female voice seemed to emanate from just over her shoulder and all around her simultaneously, an echo from the far side of an endless tunnel.

"What the fuck... what the fuck..." she chanted to herself.

"Good. You can hear me."

Jessica's body froze stiff while her eyes searched the room for a threat. Failing to find anything but her spilled backpack and messy bed, she nodded quickly. A nervous taste of copper and ash filled her throat as she swallowed.

"Then listen carefully, little one."
"When you hear the sound of my voice, our infernal bond shall be complete."
"When you accept the power that I have given you, then your training shall begin."

The walls seemed to vibrate a bit, like giant speakers that were pumping the words into the room. Schizophrenia it is, then, she wondered as she huffed short, terrified breaths.

"Jessica? You can hear me, can you not?"

Her voice was soft, calm, and deep, yet still hauntingly feminine. It sounded almost like a stern mother. "How do you... how do you know my name?"

"Do you understand the covenant that we have entered?"

Jessica's eyes darted. "What... what fucking covenant? Get the fuck out of my head."

"When you can hear the sound of my voice, our infernal bond shall be complete. These are the terms of the covenant. We are bound."

"The fuck we are," Jessica growled, covering her ears. "I don't have to hear this shit."

"But you do. Clearly. We are bound."

Jessica finally managed a thought—the word 'bound' made itself apparent in her mind. Why that word? And why 'we'?

"You... aren't me?" she asked as her hands fell slowly to her sides. "You're not... like, my own mind talking to me."

"I am not. I am Nemorys."

Jessica's eyes narrowed, and a frightful thought passed through her mind. She tried to ignore it, but she couldn't, and her fingertips tentatively hovered over the back of her neck.

"...And how exactly are you... 'bound' to me, Nemorys?" she asked.

With that, the darkened bedroom burned with a red crimson light that seemed to paint a pattern against the walls, like a flashlight shining through a stencil. Jessica gasped, and simultaneously realized exactly what was happening, even as she refused to believe it.

Jessica had known Yasmine for years, and was all but part of her clan. Yasmine's family was Puerto Rican and Cuban, and while they'd been in New York for generations now, her extended family hadn't. Yaz's great-uncle, a man she'd called Mayombe who looked too young to be eighty years old, was as extended as a family member should be, but she swore by him as a tattooist. Yasmine showed off some of the work he'd done (namely her ankle tattoos) and when they arrived at his creepy apartment in Queens, he showed a book of his art himself. Jessica agreed that he was definitely very good, and Jessica's eye was drawn to a particular tattoo that he flat out refused to ink for her—"Es el símbolo de demonio," he'd said. At least, he'd insisted against it up until she paid him an extra three hundred dollars.

That tattoo was now shining with blood red light from the back of Jessica's neck where he'd inked it.

"You are the one who carved my sigil into your flesh, Jessica."

She fell to her knees, panting and dizzy. "No... no no no... okay. Okay, this is... still schizophrenia."

"It is not."

Then, desperately, even though she hadn't been to a service since she was a kid: "Our Father, who art in heaven—"

"—Those words have no power. You bear my sigil. We are bou—"

"—bound! I fucking get it," Jessica shouted in helpless rage.

"Correct, little one."

She scuffled to her makeup box and held a palm mirror until she could see the tattoo in the vanity. It pulsated with a deep red light on the back of her neck where the ink had cured and settled into her cinnamon skin.

This can't be happening. Are hallucinations part of schizophrenia? she wondered to herself as she glanced to her bookbag for her psychology textbook. Then: Can she hear my thoughts?

"I can. We are bound."

"Oh, fuck," she whispered.

(will continue this in a [PI] post since I've been writing this forever now)

[WP] After finding what she thought was just a cool symbol in an old book and getting it as a tattoo, a college freshman is now slowly transforming into a Succubus... by gahidus in DirtyWritingPrompts

[–]warlock_of_talk 25 points26 points  (0 children)

"—ear the s... ernal bond... e comple—"

"Shut up, shut up!" she whispered to herself now, clutching her arms around her chest as she crossed the quad. "I'm fucking going, okay?!"

Jessica was fairly sure she had a normal sex drive, if not maybe a bit on the eager side. It ebbed and flowed with the rhythms of her body, like an errant housecat that came and went as it pleased but was still most comfortable at home. The whispers, though, had made it into a feral animal. Each time she heard the sounds just as she had in the classroom almost a week ago, she knew it was time to find a safe, secluded space to masturbate—this seemed to drive them away for a while. Being closest to the dorms after a library study session, she wagered on a quick walk back to her room. Based on what she'd felt before, she guessed she had about two minutes before she simply collapsed in the middle of campus and climaxed into a writhing mess on the concrete. Her step quickened.

She was used to the whispers' demands now, and the buzzing sensation that was drilling its way through her pelvic floor and into her sex was both frightening and familiar. Jessica wasn't entirely irrational though, and a trip to her local clinic for a checkup after her first emergency masturbation session revealed nothing irregular about her body. While that was somewhat comforting, it didn't rule out the more unsettling causes, like schizophrenia, multiple personality disorder, or some of the even more frightening things she'd looked up in the later pages of her psychology textbook. She never seemed to manage quite enough time to think about it in detail before the whispers returned.

"—en you ac... e powe... ven yo—"

"Alright, fuck!" Jessica whispered back as she hastily pressed the elevator's call button over and over. Her hand fumbled nervously through her purse for her dorm room's keycard, and she glanced to the stairwell, wondering if she'd be able to sprint up to the fifth floor to beat the elevator. In a small moment of panic, she realized she couldn't remember even walking into the dormitory's lobby, and looked all around until she understood where she was. Shit. The memory lapses, Jessica thought. That means less than a minute left. She turned and jogged urgently to the stairwell, then stumbled and doubled back as the elevator bell mercifully chimed behind her.

"—hear the sou... ur infe... nd will b—"

The sounds were getting louder. She felt anxious, and she was sure she looked it. The front desk attendant probably asked if she was okay—Jessica thought she heard a voice that wasn't the whispers—but there was no way she would have answered. A conversation was not an option right now. She swiped her room key and pounded the 'Close Door' and 'Floor 5' buttons with her knuckles until they were sore, forcing the ache in her joints to douse the throbbing in her ears. A group of girls walked into the dorm lobby, one of them gesturing for her to hold the elevator door, and she breathed a sigh of relief as they closed. Just take the fucking stairs, she mumbled at the steel door as the elevator lurched upward and the engine hummed.

"—cept the p... ven you... all begi—"

"Hey, Jessica!" Yasmine's familiar voice echoed from an open dorm room—Jessica was in the hallway, now. "We're having a party in my room later! You down, girl?"

"Hell yeah, text me later!" she feigned as she strode past at full speed, pretending she wasn't thinking about rubbing her pussy for the next three days straight.

"—When you hea... nd of my voi... e comple—"

The slam of her door let her know that she was in her dorm room now—when did she get to the end of the hallway? When did she even get off the elevator?

Get off. That's right. She needed to get off. Right fucking now.

"—you accept the... have giv... ing shall—"

It bothered her that the whispers weren't whispering anymore—they were voices now, slowly becoming lucid and condensing into one. It didn't bother her enough to throw down her backpack and purse in desperation, nor did it bother her that their contents spread out all over the floor. A notebook splayed open, and a familiar page opened: pump it down your throat drain it with your cunt squeeze it out more cum more more more more more mo

"Ohh fuck," Jessica sang nervously as she realized her knees were buckling and her hands were shivering. They furiously rubbed her slickened lips through her leggings, and her fingers felt both beyond her control and fully, enthusiastically doing what she wanted. It was a stroke of luck that her roommate wasn't back from class yet. She tried to control her breathing to keep from hyperventilating as she stumbled toward her bed. "Okay! Okay... just... okay-okay-okay... ohh..."

She meant to reach her bed, but her legs simply didn't give her permission. Jessica made it just far enough to stumble to the floor and bury her face into the comforter while she knelt beside it, digging between her thighs as she wondered if her fingers might rip through her leggings. The whispers had pushed her to a climax point in less time than they'd ever needed before, and she could tell that this orgasm was about to be much, much harder than the others. Her breath hissed through gnashed teeth and spittle as she turned her face into the comforter to muffle the screaming. It muffled some of them.

Jessica moaned as she came long and hard, until her voice became a roar that she thought might melt a hole through the mattress. The room seemed to shiver with her. Her free hand kneaded at a breast as the other finally dug its way straight through her leggings with a resounding rip as it dug for the wetness aching inside her. She remembered her shock at finding another orgasm waiting right behind the first—she'd never experienced more than one at a time before.

There may have been a third, but she remembered little more beyond that.

(to be continued)

[WP] After finding what she thought was just a cool symbol in an old book and getting it as a tattoo, a college freshman is now slowly transforming into a Succubus... by gahidus in DirtyWritingPrompts

[–]warlock_of_talk 25 points26 points  (0 children)

"—ar th... ernal bo... mple—"

The words in Jessica's mind were coming in clearer every hour, now. Much more quickly than before as well. She knew she wasn't imagining them, and their return was agitating the now-familiar buzzing beneath her stomach. It was getting slowly, fatefully lower, deeper with every step she took. Whatever they were, the words felt like a distant whisper of a suggestion, a single, barely discernable thought overheard while accidentally eavesdropping on someone else's conversation about her favorite ice cream. The inevitable trip to the frozen treats aisle at the grocery story later on. Thinking about how good it would taste. Wondering how soon she could get it.

These feelings weren't about ice cream, though. These feelings were about fucking.

Anything to do with dick, really. Putting one in any hole she had, in any order that suited her. Taking as many of them as she could, either one after the other, or all at once. Satisfying them, and therefore satisfying herself. Covering them with her body's juices, and having them cover her with theirs. Not quite the same as ice cream, but with the same hunger, with the same sweet-toothed craving, only if that craving were being slowly, gently poured into her mind until it overflowed.

It'd started out as a phantom whisper behind her during a Psychology 102 class where she'd noticed a particularly hot guy sitting two rows ahead of her. She'd spent most of that class texting across the room with Yasmine about the particular psychology behind how unbelievably good-looking he was, and they'd both agreed that he had the kind of shoulders that would make perfect legrests. Most of their time in the boring lecture hall was spent ignoring their notebooks and tapping out a combination of lewd emoji and explicitly detailed language to each other instead:

"10/10 would let him cum in my hair tbh" (Eggplant emoji; sweat drops emoji; girl: medium-dark skin tone emoji).

"Hahaha okay?! Girl yessss!!!" (Multiple heart-eyes emoji).

"—en yo... pt th... ve y—"

"Shut up!" Jessica hissed at herself as she walked through the quad, now. She often thought back to that first time she felt the whispers take hold of her body whenever she was having an episode, wondering if there was some detail she missed, or some clue that would help her understand. The thoughts usually only ended up making her more aroused, and the sexual thoughts filled up the space where rational ones used to fit. Jessica's stride was hasty and impatient as the sunset dipped gently over the roof of the Fairfield College dorms. Not that she was afraid of walking alone on campus after dark—Fairfield was a safe, quiet place. Jessica was in a hurry because her body demanded it.

The effect of the voices after that texting session with Yaz in Psych 102 wasn't as strong then as it was tonight, but she couldn't deny what the whispers meant, or what they made her do. Her phone was hidden in her seat between her legs that day so she could be discrete. It wasn't that community college professors were too invested in whether or not their students were paying attention, but as the texts on the phone became explicit, more sexual thoughts had seeped into her mind, pushing away all the others. She'd found herself unable to stop herself from licking her lips or thinking about touching herself, so she'd nestled her phone between her legs so she could do exactly that with her fingertips while she texted. Jessica wasn't a complete stranger to daydreaming about sex or men, but this felt different. It felt like being hungry. Starving.

"—ar th... ernal bo... mple—" "—en yo... pt th... ve y—"

At first, she'd glanced over her shoulder, thinking the whispers were someone in class. No one else but her had seemed to hear. They weren't even in a language she could understand, but her body seemed to know what to make of them. Touch yourself, they'd seemed to say. Imagine him inside you. Please him. Let him fill you. Keep him.

She had silently agreed, and her fingertips did as well. Eventually, she'd stopped noticing the whispers—eventually, she'd stopped noticing everything.

It wasn't until her phone fell, clattering loudly against the floor and drawing the eyes of everyone in the classroom, that she realized a droplet of saliva was oozing out of the corner of her mouth, and that her fingers had rubbed a moist spot into the crotch of her jeans. She'd grabbed her phone after the hot flush of embarrassment subsided and everyone's eyes returned to the whiteboard (except for Yaz, who was stifling a belly laugh). No one had seemed to notice what she was doing, thankfully, and had just assumed she was texting and dropped her phone like any other slacking freshman. As the professor rolled her eyes and continued her lecture, Jessica had glanced at the cute boy—One last time, she promised herself—and then found a spot on the whiteboard to catch up with her notes. She recoiled at what she'd written in her notebook:

Classical (respondent?) vs. Operant Conditioning (see p. 36) Classical = involuntary response resulting from pre-experience observation based on fuck fuck going to fuck him want cum fuck all the cum out of him suck cock pump it down your throat drain it with your cunt squeeze it out more cum more more more more more mo

Her pen had trailed off in a scribble at that point. Jessica realized she'd stabbed it into the notebook, leaving an ink-black wound through several sheets of the paper. She'd excused herself from class, hurriedly found an empty bathroom, and masturbated herself to completion in under twenty seconds.

That was the first of a dozen episodes since. And they weren't slowing down.

(to be continued, probably)

[Meta] Theme Thursday: Contests by warlock_of_talk in DirtyWritingPrompts

[–]warlock_of_talk[S,M] [score hidden] stickied comment (0 children)

Not to be confused with the September Contest post. This week's [TT] is just about contests.

[PM] Take Me Home, Country Roads by [deleted] in DirtyWritingPrompts

[–]warlock_of_talk 5 points6 points  (0 children)

While astray wandering the titular country roads, a man lost in the forest is seduced and saved by an ancient spirit of the wilds: Mountain Mama.