Hello there. My name is Rose. Iâm a writer, headcannon maker, and general sucker for Degrees of Lewdity.
My main focus on this blog will be centered about my own AU, Degrees of Torment, and writing requests. Because of this, there is a very strict 18+ rule in place. NO MINORS!!!
Iâm down for most things, but hereâs the list of stuff I REFUSE to write about
⥠Underage
⥠Scat (Watersports is fine because itâs in the game)
⥠DDLG
Everything else is pretty much on the table unless I say otherwise.
My writing confidence for some characters is a bit weak, but I will do my best to stay character accurate.
Send requests and stuff! I will bend to the will of my suggestions. I am but I puppet for my audience. (Iâm also not creative)
I thought I was gonna end my life at 18. I abandoned this account because I didnât want a grace of me around anymore. I donât know if anyone is still here, but if you are: Hi
Iâm Nathan. I donât really like DoL anymore, but I like to write. I have an AO3 account called Minted_Flax, but itâs blank right now. Iâll get to posting soon. What will I post? I donât know. But itâll be sexy!
Iâm happy now, guys. And I wanna do something that leaves a mark. No matter how small
I donât know if I like sex. I know this has very little to do with anything, but I hate the concept of sex. Itâs been really, really hard to write anything sexual and I donât know why. I donât wanna stop but likeâŠI donât fucking know. Can I do this?
TLDR: Got ganbanged by life and started working on a DoT mod
Hello, my little degenerates. It's me, that person you sent a request to 2 months ago. Where the fuck have I been? College, mostly. It's been swallowing up most of my life, with the rest of it being eaten up by my job (which I lost recently). I actually forgot I had this account for a while, but I'm back. My main goal right now is to clear out my inbox and get back to a project I'm working on.
The project? I decided to make a mod for my Degrees of Torment AU. Do I know how to mod? No. Am I gonna figure it out? Yes. I already have a notebook filled with story mapping nonsense and other dumb shit. I'm gonna make a separate account for updates and stuff and sort of scrub this account of my AU.
Everything will be full sailing from here. I'm sorry for vanishing, again, but I hope to make up for it.
Could you write about Sirris walking in on Sydney and female PC having sex and encouraging it or something"
(I accidently deleted the ask, god damn it.)
Freshly sliced banana drizzled in honey. Thatâs exactly what Sydneyâs lips tasted like as she pressed against you. Her lips, virgin to this kind of embrace, made your heart flutter as they tried to find a comfortable position. What started out as a peaceful study session had quickly spiraled to this. Not like you were complaining. The delicate touch of her body against yours. The thudding of her heart that reverberated through her twitching thighs. You didnât even remember when she sat on your lap. Sydneyâs chastity, cool to the touch, peeked from the bottom of her sodden panties. A gentle reminder that no one had even come close to touching her the way you have. Making her feel the way she felt in that very moment. You were special.
âWhat are the seven noble gasses?â She gasped, pulling away from you. âAscending order.â
Even with her sitting on your lap, lips locked and tongues dancing together, Sydneyâs mind still seemed zeroed in on helping you study. It was quite impressive how her mind worked. Though, without the bombardment of sex and relationships, it only seemed logical that she would fill her head with knowledge. You dragged your tongue along her jaw, lapping up a few drops of fruit syrup.
âHelium, neon, argon, krypton, xenon, radon, and oganesson.â
A more confident kiss was given as a reward, much firmer than the first one. Sydneyâs glasses fogged from the closeness and she glided to your right thigh. Her legs rested on either side, hips bucking ever so slightly. You could hear her breath becoming more unstable with each rock of her body. Saliva formed on the corners of Sydneyâs lips, leaving a slight trail as she buried her face deep in your neck. In all the time youâd been together, youâd never seen her act this way. Her arms trailed up your shirt, fingers tracing around your tender breasts.
âAtomic numbers. Descending order.â Her words came out slow and breathy, like she was struggling to talk.
Sydney pressed against you hard. You could feel her fingers prodding at your bra as she grinded against your thigh. Strands of strawberry blonde hair clung to her sweaty, reddened face. In the glow of arousal, Sydney shone like a ruby. She pushed harder against you, rocking her lower half. It was clear that she was desperate for some kind of friction, and you were happy to help. Pressing a hand against her twitching stomach, you worked it beneath the waistline of her panties. Sydney froze at your touch. Her amber eyes stared hard into yours and she looked a bit uneasy. There was a pause in her breath. A long, anxious pause.
âDescending numbers.â
This time, her voice was stronger. It sounded more like a command than anything else, which strangely turned you on more. You rattled off a list of several numbers, no even remembering what it was she had asked for. A look of disappointment washed over Sydneyâs face and she sat more rigid than before. Her gaze went from lustful and joyous to serious in a matter of seconds. With a powerful shove, Sydney had you laying flat on her back. From that position, her eyes seemed more fiery. Their bold, amber gleam was like a beautiful stone as she leaned down closer to you. In a rough voice, Sydney once again asked you for a set of numbers, not clarifying which ones they were.Â
âDonât disappoint.â The gruffness in her words made you tremble. She had never been so dominating before. Seeing this now made you crazy.
Pulling her on top of you, something inside seemed to switch. You grabbed a handful of Sydneyâs ass from beneath her skirt and gave it a hard squeeze. She squealed in surprise, but didnât pull your hand away. Instead, she just laid there. Letting you grope and play with the supple flesh. A string of gentle moans rolled past her lips, a beautiful melody to your ears. Her body wriggled against your, searching and begging for your touch. You could feel her knee pressing against you from over your jeans. It shook with anticipation, vibrating against your sex. Again, you listed more numbers, breathing them against Sydneyâs neck. Sydney pressed her knee against you more. It grinded against your quim, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.
âDo you know what weâre talking about?â Kissing your neck, Sydney stayed close to you. âThat was only five numbers.â
âI have no clue whatâs happening.â
With a soft chuckle, she sat on top of you. Her frame, although small, looked dominating as she stared down at you. Sydney grabbed the colorful, laminated periodic table she had printed off and held it close to your face. Her eyes once again turned cold as she all but forced you to memorize it. Every now and then she would thrust her hips against you, checking to see if you were actually paying attention. If you stuttered on a word or messed up an element, sheâd practically ram her crotch against you. After a while, you began to purposefully fail. The thrill of watching Sydney edge herself on your stupidity. It was adorable. So adorable, in fact, that you barely noticed Sirris peeking in through the door.
âOh, donât mind me.â Sirris entered the room without an ounce of shame. âI was just collecting some dishes.â
You sat up beside Sydney, trying to hide the grin on your face. Something about having your girlfriendâs mom watching you both from the sidelines, watching you grope and fondle each other to no end, stirred something up inside of you. Sirris returned your smile as she collected the long empty bowl that once held fruit. As she passed, you could tell just by the gleam in her eyes that she was aware of what had been going on. You closed your legs just as Sydney did, keeping her head ducked low.
âThereâs nothing to be ashamed of.â
From the corner of your eyes, you could see Sydneyâs head tilt upwards towards her mother. Her eyes were cloudy with tears. Tears of embarrassment and shame. She clutched your hand tightly, unspeaking and unsteady. Sirris knelt down and planted a kiss on her daughterâs forehead, bruising away her messing blonde bangs.
âBoth of you are young. I would expect nothing less.â
Sirris grabbed a small ruler sitting on the bed, waving it around. She tilted both you and Sydneyâs heads up, tapping you gently on each cheek. Her smile never faded as she got closer and closer to Sydney, sliding the ruler down between her skirt.
âHer chastity causes quite a bit of issues.â Flipping her daughterâs clothes up, Sirris pressed the ruler against the metal cage around Sydneyâs genitalia. âHowever, the clitoris is still exposed.â
Sydney brushed her clothes down in a hurry, a heavy blush covering her face. Sirris could only smile at her daughterâs coy reaction. She brushed a loving hand across her neck and pressed down ever so slightly on her jaw. Jumping at the sensation, Sydney swatted her mom away. Sydney held her thighs tightly together, staring hard at her lap. You could see her legs shaking nervously just behind the fabric of her clothes.
âThatâs a family secret,â the older woman chuckled. âEveryone in our family has a spot just by their neck. Itâs our erogenous zone.â
âMum!â
Letting out a hearty laugh, Sirris dropped the ruler down and once again kissed her daughter on her head. Sydney hid her face deep within her palms, her face burning red. She didnât look as her mother strolled out of the room, balancing the bowl on just two fingers.
âBefore I leave,â peeking back into the room, Sirris gave you a smirk. âThereâs some discontinued toys hidden in my closet. Just in case you two wa-â
âMum! Leave!â
Sirris closed the door behind her and you watched Sydney collapse against the bed. She breathed a slight sigh of relief that her mother was gone. It was a bit funny to see her so stressed out. So worried about being caught in the act. Even though nothing had actually happened. At least, it hadnât happened yet. You rolled on top of Sydney, scraping your teeth against her jawline.
âLetâs study anatomy for a bit.â Smirking, you pressed two fingers against the spot Sirris had shown you.
Sydney growled at your touch, pressing herself against your fingertips. The lust returned in her eyes and she pounced like a lioness. Sydney rolled her head from side to side. Fighting. Rubbing. Struggling. Her fingers tangled around the hole in her belt that her mother so gingerly grazed. The spot she never even noticed. Sydney grabbed your other hand firmly, ramming your palm against her crotch. You could feel her leaking like a faucet, burning for your touch. The squeeze was somewhat tight, but you managed to wiggling your finger in just right. Your nail tapped the very tip of Sydneyâs untouched clit, making her squirm.
May you please make a thing where Avery, or whatever the rich guy's name is, sees jewelry on the PC and thinks they're cheating on them only for it to be "decorations" from the night monster?
(I'm so sorry if you meant Ivory Wraith. If you did, I'll redo this)
âMay I speak to you privately?â
Averyâs words came out as a snarl, sending a chill down Estherâs spine. The timid girl excused herself from the gathering, an angered pull from her date sending her backwards. Her head swam with possibilities as she was led out into the freezing cold. Had she said something wrong at the party? Was there food stuck in her teeth? Avery rarely pulled her aside unless it was to scold her for something. Esther swallowed and as the backdoor to the building slammed, she was met with a swift smack across the cheek.
âAre you trying to irritate me tonight?â
Gripping his date by the hair, Avery pulled her to the tips of her feet. His eyes burned with anger and his breath reeked of red wine. His grip on her hair tightened and he struck her again, moving his free hand to an amber colored bracelet on Estherâs wrist. He pulled hard on the elastic, threatening to snap it.
âWhat the hell is this? Who bought you this tacky garbage?â
âItâs from a friend,â Esther sobbed. She flinched as the elastic band was snapped against her wrist.
âDonât lie to me!â
Avery shoved his trembling date down, kicking her hard in the ribs. He pressed the bottom of his loafer against her head. His foot taunted the girlâs skull, threatening to crack it at any second. Esther could only lie there and pray. Pray for someone else from the party to save her. To whisk her back inside. To get Avery the hell away from her.
âIâm doing you a favor, you ungrateful little shit!â Pressure was applied to Estherâs head and she began to cry out. âAnd you go leave me for some cheap bastard?âÂ
A blubbered mess of an apology spewed from Estherâs mouth. She did her best to explain herself, only to be kicked again and again. With each hit she only apologized more. Cried more. Screamed more. But no one ever came for her. It was only Avery and her> Screaming at each other into the crisp night air. Â
âYou're nothing without me!â Bending down, Avery snapped Estherâs bracelet. As the elastic broke, stones and bits of amber tumbled across the ground. The brunette did her best to collect the broken pieces, stuffing them into her pockets. Â
âI never needed you!â Esther spat, scrambling to her feet. âIâm not your little doll anymore!â
Before Avery could raise his hand again, Esther began to sprint down the street. Her kitten heels clicked noisily as she fought for balance. The cold night air nipped at her exposed skin. The heels of her feet were beginning to hurt and Estherâs cheek burned from the slap. Strands of messy brown hair stuck to the dried tears on her face, nearly blinding her as she ran deeper towards the dark. A loose piece of gravel snagged the bottom of her heel, tripping her and sending her face down onto the concrete.
Esther couldnât even pick herself up. Her body lay there on the cold, wet ground, heaving as she finally let herself cry. Bits of her jewelry collected around her, spilling freely from her dress pockets. A silver ball rolled in front of her, showing a distorted reflection of her face. Lipstick was smeared across her mouth and dried mascara left tears of black. The eyeshadow she had put on that evening was almost wiped away completely. She was a disheveled mess. Sitting herself up slowly, Esther swiped a hand under her eyes.
Reaching within her bra, she pulled out a shimmering red lipstick. Esther applied it to her lips with care, wiping the dirt and debris that stuck to her clothes. She held up the small bits of her bracelet that were still in her pockets and began to shake them in her fist. They clacked together gently, filling the otherwise silent space. The tired girl climbed back on her feet, taking a few wobbling steps in her heels. With her head held high, Esther strolled through the streets.
âCome out, come out wherever you are.â Jingling around her ruined bracelet, she wiped smudged mascara across her cheeks. âCome and get me.â
A deep growl rattled the brunetteâs chest and she stopped her stroll. There was a hot, musky breath on the back of her neck. Esther could feel eyes leering at the back of her head from just a few inches behind. She felt a sense of calmness overcome her and she shut her eyes tight, falling back into the dark. A pair of arms enveloped her, keeping Estherâs head from hitting the ground. The beast pulled her shivering body close, warming her up with its own heat. For the first time that night, Esther felt safe.
âJust take me.â Her voice was breathy and cold. âTake me with you.â
So I just avoided grippy sock jail. I was held at a hospital for 4 hours and barely managed to convince them to let me go home instead of getting admitted.
Its Halloween and PC has been missing for almost a year and Robin goes trick-or-treating in Danube street and goes to Kylar's manor only to find PC (with Stockholm Syndrome for Kylar) open the door to give the candy. PC hated Kylar before but now doesn't even want to leave their house.
(Happy Halloween, my little weirdos!!!!!!)
âHappy Halloween.â
Robin froze at the door, dropping the pillow case she had been using to carry her candy. Something about the girl in front of her felt eerily familiar. Like she had seen her around town once upon a time. It took a few moments for the features to register in young orphanâs mind, but Robin could have sworn it wasâŠ
âHolly?"
Hollyâs eyes were empty despite the smile on her face. It was like her facial expressions were rehearsed and directed. Her pupils were unnaturally dilated, and Robin suspected that she might have been on drugs. The stiffness of her back made Holly seem more like a doll than a real, living person. It was uncanny. Horrifying, even. But, Robin knew it had to be her.
âWhy donât you go to some of the other houses,â Robin whispered to one of the older girls she had been with. âIâll catch up in a second.â
As her group made their way to the next house over, Robin was able to look at Holly a lot closer. She had gained color and fat back in her face, at least from what Robin could remember. The clothes Holly was wearing werenât tattered and actually fit her perfectly. There was even a nice smell coming from her.
âAre you wearing perfume?â
âKylar made it for me.â Taking a deep inhale of her wrist, Holly finally let her smile drop. âItâs made of roses.â
Holly gave her skirt a twirl, mentioning that it had also been made for her. Her voice sounded somewhat enthusiastic, which made her expression all the more unnerving. When she twisted around to show the back of her outfit, Robin caught a glimpse of something fastened around Hollyâs neck. It looked like a dog collar without a tag. There was a ring for a leash to be clipped on, and Robin wondered if Kylar kept her on one.
âWhere is she?â Robin asked, silently hoping that Kylar had stepped out for the night.
Her hopes were crushed as Holly called out down the hall, practically summoning Kylar behind her in an instant. She was wearing a small witchâs hat, but it was barely visible beneath her unkempt black hair. Kylarâs eyes had their usual dark bags, which made her look more terrifying than she was probably hoping to.
âHappy Halloween.â Kylar didnât meet Robinâs gaze, instead choosing to stare at the tips of her shoes.
With the given situation, the fact that Kylar could act so much like her usual self irritated Robin a bit. The fact she wasnât looking up, not mentioning Holly, or even trying to explain herself was shocking. Clearing her throat loudly, Robin straightened her posture.
âHow long has Holly been living here?â She asked simply.
Kylar snapped her head up to look at Robin, her eyes staring daggers at the orphan girl. She seemed somewhat offended at the question, but did her best to hide it.
âA while,â she muttered. âHer living conditions just sounded so horrific. I had to take her in.â
The way Kylar spoke about Holly like she was a stray dog made Robin even more upset. She couldnât even remember the last time she had seen Holly. Knowing that, all this time, the person she called a friend was living just a few blocks over without her knowledge made her sick. Kylar never mentioned the situation. She never left a note at the orphanage. As far as Robin was concerned, Kylar was purposefully keeping Holly away in her messy, disorganized mansion.
âI thought she hated you.â Robin took a step forward, holding her foot in front of the door. She may have towered over Kylar, but something in the shorter girlâs eyes made her step back.
âYou think I donât love her?â Kylar forcefully took Hollyâs hand in her own, nearly crushing it with her grip. âYou think I donât care about her?â
âItâs just that you rarely talked,â Robin pointed out, sensing that Kylar was on the verge of snapping.
Opening her mouth to say something, the feeling of Kylarâs jagged nails against Hollyâs palm quickly shut her up. She only stood idly by, not even registering the ever growing tension that was in front of her. The most she did was hold Kylarâs hand, swinging their arms together.
âSo because we never talked, that means I canât love her?â Kylar bit back, absentmindedly following along with Hollyâs movements.
âYou sound a bit insane.â
Robin felt like she made the wrong dialogue option in a game, even before Kylar responded. She knew that âinsaneâ was a bit of a strong word, but she couldnât think of anything else to say. Kylar was, in every sense of the word, absolutely insane. The tension between the two seemed to shatter at the mere utterance of the word. Robin could feel it when Hollyâs hand was released and pushed to the side. She could feel it when Kylar stared her down with terrifying emerald eyes. Wild with anger and insanity.Â
âI take care of her better than you ever could! Holly doesnât live in fear! Thereâs no danger here like there is with you!â
Kylarâs face was a deep red as she berated practically everything about the orphanage. Every word of it came out cracked and squeaky, as if she wasnât used to raising her voice. She seemed to know everything, including things that Robin had only heard rumors about every now and then. Things that sounded too awful to believe.
âFace it,â Kylar wheezed, struggling to speak after her screaming fit. âIâm better for her.âÂ
The door slammed hard in Robinâs face, leaving her standing alone on Kylarâs porch. She thought for a moment about everything Kylar had said. Even though her words came from a place of hatred, there was some truth. The orphanage wasnât safe. Robin knew that better than most. The debts and the break-ins and the general disarray. From the outside, Kylarâs house looked like heaven.
âHurry up!â Lilyâs voice broke Robinâs train of thought, and she turned towards her group. âIâm getting cold.â
Hesitating for a moment, Robin gave Hollyâs situation one last thought. No matter what the burning in her chest said, this was for the best. Kylar could keep her safe. And, if it ever came down to it, Robin knew where Holly was and could get to her. She was safe and could be saved.
âIâm coming!â Robin called back, rushing towards the others. Once she was with them, she let her thoughts of Holly float to the back of her mind.
Male PC finds female Alex stuck in the milking machine and rapes her. (They're not dating)
(Finally broke out of my burnout :D)
Wiping the sweat from his browline, Ronnie took a moment to admire his handiwork. The fields had finally been plowed to near perfection and were ready for the seasonâs crops. It was a little tiresome doing it alone, but it also felt all the more rewarding. Ronnie twisted his head around in search of Alex, ready to gloat, but found that she was nowhere to be seen. While it wasnât strange for her to disappear for periods of time, something felt off. Sitting down on the cool grass, Ronnie remembered her saying something about milking the cows roughly two hours. However, if he remembered properly, it only took about an hour to do so.
âAlex!â He called, laying flat on his back. âCome out here!â
The wind seemed to carry his words away, because Ronnie didnât get a response. He knew that if Alex was somewhere in the barn, she would more than likely be able to hear him. Rolling onto his stomach, he gave calling out another shot. Ronnie was met with the same silence as before, and a bit of panic washed over him. He couldnât help but wonder if maybe Alex had passed out from the heat or got hurt somehow. Ronnie scrambled to his feet, leaving behind his tools and hat, and sprinted towards the barn.
Opening the heavy wooden doors, Ronnie peeked around the dimly lit barn. The mechanical whirring from the milking machine could be heard further in the back, but all of the livestock could be seen wandering around. Not a single one seemed to be out of place. Ronnie journeyed deeper into the barn, following the faint sounds of heavy machinery. He counted each of the cattle as he walked past them, assuming that maybe there was one more getting milked that he didnât account for. But when he arrived at where the milker was located, Ronnie realized that all of the cows were there. Perhaps Alex had actually gotten injured. Peeking to the milking room, he could see something that maybe he shouldnât have.
Alex stood there on all fours, wrists and ankles tied down to the floor. Two of the manual suctions cups were attached to her breasts while they noisily milked her. From the container sitting next to her, Ronnie could tell that she had already produced a surprising amount. Alexâs face was mostly blocked by her flowing red hair, but from what was visible, Ronnie could also see that she seemed uncomfortable. It was almost like she was in pain. Alex squirmed her body from side to side like she was trying to get herself free. Leaning against the door a bit more, Ronnie froze as it loudly creaked open. Alex snapped her head to the side, staring with her piercing at the apparent peeping tom.
âWhat the fuck are you doing?â Alex hissed, attempting to jerk her breasts free. âCome help me already.â
Thoughts of the past few weeks came flooding back as Ronnie continued to remove his clothing. All of the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of Alex. The way she had treated him like an incompetent child. Ordering him around like a dumb dog. Treating him like trash just because she could. It filled him with rage. A hot, burning rage that ate away at his morals. Alex was in too much of a compromising position.
âHold still,â he growled, pulling down his dirt covered pants.Â
The sudden gruffness in her farmhandâs voice sent shivers up Alexâs spine. She still did her best to wiggle and squirm, especially once she felt Ronnie settle behind her, but secretly wished for him to take things further. The restraints around her ankles and wrists made it difficult for her to fight back, which played right into her dark fantasies. Still, Alex twisted her hips around in an effort to fight back.
âYou fucking brat!â The redhead spat, pulling her hips forward. âI shouldnât have saved your orphaned ass.â
Ronnie took hold of his boxers. He had grown tired of Alexâs mouth, and as he pulled down his painfully erect cock, he figured it was time to put her in her place. There was no point in teasing her or prepping her in any way. She didnât deserve that kind of treatment. Ronnie thrust hard into Alex, hearing her scream at the sudden entry. Her lewd fluids made for the perfect entrance. There was barely any resistance, allowing for Ronnie to easily plow into the loudmouth farmer. What would have probably been a slew of bitchy comebacks or other annoying complaints came out as grunts and groans of pleasure.
âMoo for me.â Pulling back a fistful of Alexâs hair, Ronnine pressed his teeth against the nape of her neck. âMoo like the dumb cattle you are.â
Alex did as she was told without a second thought, belting out a melody of strained animal sounds. The overstimulation was starting to clog up her mind and she could barely focus. If she could, chances were she would have kicked Ronnieâs ass. But something about his tone and roughness. While Alex would never admit it aloud, it drove her wild.
âWorthless fucking cow,â Ronnie growled, sinking his teeth into Alexâs neck. âI could slaughter you and turn you to steak.â
Pulling her head back even further, Ronnine looked angrily into the eyes of the woman he both loved and hated. The way tears rolled down her cheeks, making her reddened face slick and shiny. He despised the way she looked, but this seemed fitting for her. Being reduced to an animalistic mess. Mooing and moaning like the sow she was. Holding forced her head down, ramming into Alexâs trembling body with all the power he could muster. She continued to squeal beneath him, and Ronnie couldnât help but think she sounded more like a pig than a cow.
âYou wanted milk right?â
Alex nodded weakly in reply, not really processing what was being said. She could feel her back being pushed down as her face was pressed against the hay covered floor. Her body had long stopped feeling pleasure and she was left a numb, drooling mess. Ronnie kept his palm firmly pressed against the small of Alexâs back as he finally released into her, flooding her tired womb with his seed. He could feel the red headâs body still shaking, but that was no longer his issue. Â
âEnjoy your milk, bitch.â Zipping his pants back up, Ronnie left Alex alone once again. Her body twitched and squirmed from overstimulation, struggling to recover from her most recent orgasm.
