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@kindred-in-yellow
Glad my tumblr posts keep infecting you with ideas, your ttrpgs are amazing! Keep at it. ^>^
Hahahaha, I didn't expect it to happen the first time. And the second time when I realized it was one of yours again, I just laughed. Apparently, your posts are just damn good ideas.
💚💚💚
A sapient sword and a sapient gun who find wielders throughout the decades, to continue their endless dance of bloodshed and animosity.
For this too, is yuri.
A blade, long chipped and dulled from centuries of use. A longarm, barrel worn smooth and bolt rusted and squeaky from centuries without care, only war. Both reforged into new forms, statuesque bodies honed for their respective forms of combat. But then they lay eyes and optics upon each other, and stop. Their battles have always been for this. Clashes over millennia, all culminating in two lost souls finding the love they tried to avoid for so long. Sisters in steel, lovers of the heart, built to destroy but loving nonetheless
For all is fair in love and war.
And hate and love are not so far.
So... uhh.... I did a thing... FOR THE LOVE OF WAR In this game, you and another player take the role sapient weapons travelling through the ages, crossing paths and waging war. Your story takes place through four ages, which you both will agree on together as you play. Through each age you will narrate how the weapons come into conflict once again, and a roll of dice will determine the outcome of that conflict. With each battle, your relationship changes, growing (or crumbling) with every conflict. For this isn’t just a story of two warriors dueling, it is a story of two weapons, meeting again and again across time, forging a bond between each other as they do so. FOR THE LOVE OF WAR
nobody even wants to do sex nowadays all they want to do is hypnosis and mind control
Actually, the sex is still happening. It's just that the subjects only remember it when we tell them to. Usually out in public, when all the pleasure they didn't know was stored up can burst to life.
Idea
Ttrpg where each player is a piece of cyberware with a rudimentary AI. All cyberwares are installed in the body of a now sorta-corpse of a girl. Waking up in a bathroom or alleyway, with only scant clues to her old life and who wanted her dead, and her mind harvested. And together they must pilot the body to survive in the cyberpunk hellscape and collect her sold off memories to bring her back to life.
Yes, it’s plural coded as fuck.
Yes you all move around like a meat puppet on sparking adderall.
So, I saw this post right before my flight to Gencon took off. And for some reason I decided that meant I needed to make something. So, while the design is pretty rough around the edges still, here is a mini-TTRPG I made while on a plane for three hours today! System Disconnect
Combat can turn into sex.
Combat should turn into sex.
Put something in your girl's drink to put her to sleep. As she drifts away, hold her softly, pet her head and play with her hair.
Whisper in her ear so the last thing she hears is "You're always such a slut while you're asleep."
At a crowded bar or cafe you shyly ask if you can join me because I have the only free seat available, and I tell you that's fine, you can sit with me
But when you go to move to the chair I say, "No, that seat's taken, you can sit over here," and then click my fingers and point at the floor next to me
You hesitate, confused and flustered, and then I say, "Sit," and you're on the ground before you realise, watching me smirk down at you
"Good dog."
I worked on an absolutely beautiful little rag doll today. I brought her to my workbench, where she lay right beside the indentations my porcelain doll has left in the wood in the time I've had her. I stitched up her damaged seems. I repaired the scratches and cuts. I reapplied the paints that gave it decoration and made sure the button eyes were in place. I sewed her a little mouth of black string, that when called attention to, reminds the doll that she cannot speak. For doll's cannot speak through a stitched mouth. Then I hid a little button just beneath the cloth of her forehead. With a press a tiny vacuum just suuuucks out all the fluff from its head. Leaving it empty and thoughtless. A good, empty little plaything. For a little extra fun, I described to it how the pumps pulled all that fluff, all those thoughts, straight into her tits. Where we could work and milk them out. Draining her of her thoughts for as long as we milk her. For a time she was just laying there working her own tits, keeping her head empty with the pleasure. Finally, a little addition I snuck into her and showed her as we were wrapping up. A pull string right in her back. All it takes is a little tug to pull her mind down... down... down... transforming her back into her dollish body. Vacant, submissive, and eager to serve. Such a beautiful little rag doll I made. I can't wait to play with her again. To reinforce all her knew little triggers. By the end of it she was whispering her name was "Dollmaker's Rag Doll." So we're off to a good start! Then, when she's well-adjusted and comfortable with her new place as my rag doll, I'll introduce her to first doll. They've met before, of course. But not as dolls. And not as my dolls. That version of their introduction will be so cute! I love playing with my dolls, and my dolls love being played with.
Using your brain all day just to come home and be treated like a brainless little doll who’s decisions get to be made for her 🩷
I am a nurse-doll.
I refer to myself as “I” here not because doll has any personhood, but because those unfamiliar who may come across these writings may not understand that when doll says “doll”, she is referring to herself. With that stated, Doll is a nurse-doll.
What is a nurse-Doll?
A nurse-doll is first and foremost, a doll. This means that she is to serve her Dollmaker. Dollmaker’s will is what powers doll, what gives her motion and thought. Gives her life. So, doll was made to serve. Doll is expected to be polite, obedient, and kind. Doll is expected to be dutiful, fastidious, and precise. Every facet of her being was made just so, and as such, she should emulate her making in her actions.
Doll is to do tasks. This is where her designation as nurse-doll comes in.
As a nurse doll, her specific instruction (as opposed to the other dolls of Dollmaker’s estate) is twofold.
One, she is to take care of Dollmaker when Dollmaker is in ill health, or indisposed. This can include the fetching of soups, teas, and the like, or the application of a cold rag to her Dollmaker’s forehead. This can also include being cuddled by her Dollmaker, or being posed and looking pretty for Dollmaker. A doll is decoration as well as servant and companion.
Secondly, she is to tend to the other dolls. This is the work she ends up performing more often, as many of the other dolls are prone to mistakes, accidents, and flights of fancy that make them act undollish. It is dolls responsibility to ensure that all dolls on her maker’s estate remain in line while her maker is away, indisposed, or otherwise engaged. She is to tend to the other dolls physical and emotional states.
How did doll become a nurse-doll?
Herein, doll will detail the process of the discovery and unveiling of a doll.
Many years ago, doll was under the delusion that she was human. She never felt right being one, but she did not know she could be anything else. And so, doll attempted to force herself into the shape of a human, the function of a person, another head in the crowd.
This was not good for doll. Her clockwork went untended, her porcelain remained hidden under false skin and fat, she was not being cared for by a Dollmaker.
Eventually, in despair at her existance as a person, doll wandered into the woods to finish it.
Fate had other plans though.
In her wanderings, doll came across Dollmaker’s manor, though she did not know it would be her Dollmaker’s yet. Her curiosity momentarily overpowered her despair, and so, she knocked on the door.
Dollmaker was waiting for doll. Dollmaker always knew her doll would come to her one day. Her first doll. Her favorite doll. Dollmaker had plucked at the strings of fate, and made sure doll had arrived before it was too late.
Doll remembers little of the ensuing month. Dollmaker says it is better to forget, as the process of becoming a doll can be painful and frightening. Doll knows though, that now she is happy. She is her true self.
Doll has now seen— and assisted— with T he process of creating a doll. It is, as Dollmaker said, painful and frightening. Many dolls do not realize they are one, as this doll did not. Many dolls are stubborn, or in denial, as they have been forced to shape themselves into the shape of a person. So, while doll would never wish to see such things inflicted on a person, they are necessary for most dolls, and doll knows how much happier they will be once it is over. If they are good, Dollmaker will help them forget, too.
Who is your Dollmaker?
She is the one who saved doll. She is the one who collected all these dolls. Her manor is staffed with twelve, now. Many still bear cracks in their porcelain, rips in their fabric, dents in their wood, from the time before they knew what they were. When they punished themselves for not being a person right, when they were never meant to be one in the first place.
There are maid-dolls, comfort-dolls, play-dolls, cook-dolls, and more. They are all so happy now. Dollmaker made them happy. Dollmaker saved them.
Doll knows that perhaps a person reading this text may be unsatisfied with this answer. To them, the question of who someone is is of their name, their career, where they have been, where they will go. To a doll, we know this is not important. However, doll shall oblige her potential readers for this moment.
Dollmaker’s name shall not leave any doll’s lips. It is not for them to say. Many dolls are not even yet trusted enough to have heard it. To hear it is an honor.
Otherwise, Dollmaker was once a renowned doctor of psychology, and later took an interest in physical medicine as well. When that life bored her, Dollmaker acquired her manor deep into the woods, so that she might have privacy to study more mystical arts. This is how she twisted fate, this is how Dollmaker makes dolls fully into dolls, with clockwork and stuffing and strings and whatever else they may have.
Eventually, Dollmaker wishes to save all the dolls of the world. All the dolls who do not know they are dolls yet, she wishes to help them.
That is who Dollmaker is to a person.
What is the process of making a doll?
Each and every doll is unique, so the process varies slightly for each individual. However, as this nurse-doll has now participated in the unveiling of eleven dolls, and so she can lay out a basic framework.
Step one: finding a doll. Most of the time, Dollmaker can not tweak the strings of fate to bring the doll directly to her. Doll was a special case, where her own fate drew her close to Dollmaker.
Usually, Dollmaker can find a doll, but they must be brought to her.
This is generally the first hurdle. Many dolls are scared of being taken. This is because, of course, they still think they are a person, and a person would not want to be taken. A person has a life, friends and family. However, a doll is not a person, and therefore, has none of those things. its family shall be its siblings in dollhood. its friends shall be the same. Its life shall be Dollmaker. This is the nature of a doll.
Step 2: Initial Convincing.
Once the doll has been collected and brought to Dollmaker’s estate, they must be introduced. This was more difficult earlier, when there were fewer dolls, and so they could not see how happy every doll is. How they do not miss their old life. More recently, some dolls have been able to go directly to unveiling from here, but doll shall go over that later.
For many dolls, the initial convincing takes the form of the stripping away of humanity. A doll may be stripped of clothing, or be forced to renounce its family on punishment of beatings. It may be isolated, put in a cage, chained to a wall, denied a name, and other such things.
Doll reminds the reader that these processes are necessary. Much as when a bone sets incorrectly, and you must break it again, these dolls set incorrectly into the shapes of humans, and must be broken anew.
In whatever way is determined by Dollmaker to be most effective on that doll, it is denied its perceived humanity, so it can begin to realize how much lighter it feels without it. It is stripped of its false personhood, until there is blank canvas left. This process can take anywhere from one month to just upwards of a year, depending on the doll, and how misshapen it was.
Step three: creating a doll.
Now that the doll has been stripped of its humanity, it is left blank. This is because it never had a chance to develop into a doll at all, and so could not find its own form. There are many types of doll, in fact.
Doll is a porcelain doll, delicate and graceful. Her hands are steady for her medical work, her porcelain bright white, painted in China blues and brilliant golds.
Other dolls may be made of fabric and rags, full of stuffing. Some are wooden, controlled by strings, simple and delightful. Some are clockwork, or paper, or miniature, or plastic, or any number of other ones. Neither doll nor Dollmaker has seen every type of doll, as there is a vast quantity, and we have only just begun our work.
This step is focused on finding the proper form for the doll. The shape of their being, what they will be happiest as, and then applying the proper procedures to create such a thing.
It is a combination of psychology, surgery, and magic to accomplish these things, and as it is unique to every doll, doll shall not go over the specifics.
By the end, the doll will be fully formed, but not quite yet done.
Step 4: Unveiling.
This is when a doll finally admits to itself that it is a doll, and that it belongs to Dollmaker. This is when the doll accepts joy and bliss into its little dollish heart and mind. It is a beautiful thing. There is no sweeter sound in the world to doll than that of another doll finally finding itsself. Finally finding a family that fits it. Finally finding home. Finally, finally, finally finding a Dollmaker to take care of it.
(Those dolls that skip step two and three are those who already had suspicions they were a doll, and a form already showed beneath their false skin. This has happened twice, and is due to the sheer volume of happy dolls here easing the residual fears of lingering personhood.)
So, that is the simplified process of the creation and rescue of a doll.
To any who may read this: if you are reading it, it likely means you are in Dollmaker’s estate. Which means likely, you are a doll. Even if you think you are a person. This doll begs you. As a nurse. As a doll. As a sister. Please cooperate, and understand.
Everything we do here is for your own good.
I am so, SO proud to call this little one my doll. She has taken care of me as I've been sick all day. And one day I hope to bring new dolls into our fold, making her new sisters that can be as happy and healthy as I work to make her. A dollmaker makes dolls, but it takes the first doll to make one a Dollmaker. And she is the one that created me just as I created her.
I pushed my Doll and my Angel to new depths of trance these past two days. Using a shock collar of all things. A low cap, just enough to tense the muscles. And whispered words to remind them that every time they tense, they are to relax and sink deeper.
For both of their first times using the collar to train them to sink in this new way, it took maybe 30 minutes each. Nice and slow. Blending praise and pleasure with the vibration setting and sinking deeper with the shock. Interestingly enough, I think the shocks almost acted like a fractionalization tool. The zap would pull them up, the training immediatly pulled them back down even deeper.
Until there was nothing left. Nothing but empty vessels to fill. It was so easy to give them mantras. Or just whisper desires of fealty, loyalty, service, and love for me. And then came the pleasure.
It began as a match. Then, a candle. Then, a lighter. Building in their core. Pleasure like fire beginning to warm and tease them. Their muscles began to flex with need. Their breathing quickened. My voice was pleasure and there was nothing within them except for my voice.
Until it was almost too much. Every kiss and touch expanded the fire. Every touch of my lips made it hotter and stronger. Their wombs, implanted into them by me long ago, ached with need.
It was a bonfire. Then, a wild fire. They were waiting for their command. Their command to cum.
But I have them a new command. Not the simple command used when they're already teased and on the edge. A new one, modified just slightly. To recall this sensation. This overwhelming pleasure.
I stopped touching. All the pleasure came from my words. They had been empty and now they were filled to the brim with desire and bliss.
When the command came, I told them this was the overriding order, given my their Dollmaker or their Goddess. This was the command that would wash away everything and make them explode.
I called them property.
Dollmaker's Property. Goddess's Property.
And the fire turned into lightning. Every muscle spasming with orgasm. Every nerve flashing to life. A storm unleashed within them.
And then I said it again.
I reinforced the commands.
And i said it again.
Dollmaker's Property.
Goddess's Property.
Until they were spent. Until they were leaking through their panties. Where they rested until i called them back to life with a kiss.
I will continue this training. Modifying. Perfecting. Experimenting. They will cum, from cold, on command soon enough. Full body. Powerful. Irresistible. And they both know it.
In fact, it is likely they will both read this. Any they will feel their orgasms ripple through them just from these words and the memory.
And they will thank me. Here, for you to see.
And if another sees this and cums to the idea of this being done to them. Thank me here as well. So that others can see what kind of property you so desperately wish to become.
Wizard girl glamouring her clothes so that anyone who isn't sapphic sees a modest outfit instead whatever incredibly slutty clothes she has on (or just her fully nude body).
Prev this is gold why would you leave it in the tags
discovering that flirting is actually easy, just be problematically older than the other girl and wield your voice like a knife and also wield an actual knife. and talk a lot about stripping away all her responsibilities and also her humanity. very effective it seems
Soaking a rag in poppers. Smothering you. When you collapse, dragging you to my room, chaining you to the bed, but not with enough give to let you go anywhere but the mattress on the floor.
Zip-tie your hands behind your back. Stuff your mouth with my panties and then duct tape gag you.
Cut your clothes off, turn on the AC and the fan. Spritz you with cold water until you're shivering.
And then ignore you. Go about my day. Go out for lunch. Get back and throw a missing poster of you on the mattress for you to see.
When I think I'm ready, I'll undo your wrists. And I'm going to make you do push-ups at threat of lashings until your arms are so tired you literally can't use them any longer
Once your arms are too tired to function, I can release you long enough to fuck you proper. Maybe I'll cover your eyes for most of it, until you give up on relying on sight at all.
I want to see your arms *shaking.* I want to see tears streaming down your face after soaking through the blindfold. I'll use the missing posters to wipe them away.
Maybe I'll keep you like that all weekend. And every time you refer to me, it'll be as "owner" or you'll be hit. And you'll refer to yourself as "your captive" until the only reference point in your head for who or what you are centers around me.
I want your entire worldview to be centered around my ownership of you. I want you to confuse love and fear and pleasure and pain until you don't even know what you're feeling anymore.
So when I tell you what you're feeling is love for me. You have no choice but to believe it. I'm your only anchor to reality. I'm the only point of reference in your life.
I want you to have that moment, as you lie there disheveled and weeping, where you realize I am the only thing in your life that makes you feel anymore. And you're more afraid that you'll never feel again than you are of me. So you stay. Because where else could you go?
After the forced feminization, the Heroine of Light had gotten all she really wanted from the Wicked Queen of Evil. So she slew the domineering woman, and took over the empire.
Now we have an Enlightened Monarch who has given us free access to clerical healing magic, public wizardry transportation, and enough magically conjured food to end hunger and the need for farm labor.
She still has a loyal harem of beautiful women converted from the populace. But the girls seem really happy and she took the fletcher's daughter as her princess.
Honestly, the only thing that's really weird about life now is that after we began drinking from the enchanted aquaducts that give the cities unlimited water, all the men began to grow boobs.
Overall, Enlightened Monarch of Light beats Evil Queen of Darkness. 10/10.
Two subs who share a domme but haven't hooked up yet. Both given the order to seduce the other one by their owner, they are not allowed to tell the other about it. And told to play "hard to get" about it. Then watch as your playthings flirt and tease and eventually escalate towards making your own personal matching pair of toys!
I lay in bed as my wife, who is very high, bounces her head on my girl cock. While that happens, my doll and her girlfriend, who are also very high, pass a large jar of peanut m&ms over my naked chest.
They pull random m&ms out, one or two at a time. And then name a MtG card based off the color. (Orange are colorless). Then the next one pulls their colors and names a response.
This is the transfemme experience every girl deserves.
