Warning: the following content will presumably incorporate fetishes and situations deemed too extreme for the general public, among which cubs, non-con, kidnapping, bondage and much, much more. If you don't have the stomach for these things you are encouraged to leave right this instant.
So, this is a little RP starter I wrote for F-list when I had a profile there. I made a few, I'll probably post more. They're crazy, fun and easy to digest, in terms of length, that is. This one features Pearl, an albino lioness. In this one she's 8 and living through a modern setting.
----------------------Big Gym Surprise----------------------
As usual, you're last. Everyone's already out when you're done exercising. The gym's so silent the sound of your own footsteps echoes through the hallways as you get past the door to the locker room. Empty, much like the rest of the building. Not a surprise nor a problem to you. People are a nuisance, especially the chatty, beefy kind. You take your time showering; there's about an hour before closing time and you don't intend ruining the best thing after a long workout session. Nothing beats hot water on sore muscles.
You're done clothing in less than half an hour, but right as you're about to leave an abrupt noise halts your march. You turn around. It was faint and sounded very distant, but you're certain: it was someone's voice, a low whimper. You try to locate the source but, much like before, there is no one to be seen. You'd consider ghosts if you believed in them; the most logical explanation coming to mind is that you probably just imagined it. But then there it is again, this time you can't be mistaken, either stress is finally getting at you or someone hiding out of sight thinks they're being funny.
As the sound manifest itself again something moves: on one of the benches lays an unassuming duffel bag. It's not unusual for someone to forget their stuff from time to time, so you paid no mind to it at first, the janitor usually takes care of this stuff anyways. But now, as it clearly shuffles, twists and moans before your very eyes there is absolutely no way to ignore it. You walk closer and take hold of the zipper.
Time stops: you doubt for a few seconds. The thing isn't yours and you're not the kind of guy to just get your hands on someone else's stuff. The thought is shaken off, however, as the bag, once more and much louder, emits a low moan. Is there actually someone inside? You pull the zipper down and your jaw drops at the sight underneath: lying down on a bed of dirty clothes lays a small child, a cub actually, an anthropomorphic lioness.
You're not sure about the age; surely young and small enough to fit inside a gym bag. Maybe 8? Her body is covered by a thin, black leotard, her slim legs wrapped by a pair of deliciously semi-transparent, brown stockings. That's not the weirdest part, however; as you recognize the attire to be typical of the dancing class a few rooms from yours, so at least you know she must be from there. What follows is rather unsettling. Past several layers of what appears to be transparent duct-tape wrapped around her muzzle you can see a rather bulky orange wedged between her teeth, the critter's black lips wriggles desperately around its circumference as she tries her best to spell coherent words, although what comes out is nothing but meaningless mumbling.
Both her hands are secured behind her back, squeezed tight by red nylon rope, same goes for her legs, which are bound half-way through her thighs, past her knees and right around her ankles. Squeezing her big-toes, pushing against the transparent fabric of the stockings, are a few tiny, colorful rubber-bands; a detail not bearing any meaningful purpose other than to satisfy the clearly perverted mind behind her predicament. Big, gleaming eyes widens above the tape, begging you to let her go. ``Mmph! Pweaphe!''
Her back arches and the ropes creaks, perky tits push against the velvety fabric of the leotard covering them, her muzzle all mushed up against the clear adhesive, tiny toes curl nervously before her small bum falls right back on the bed of laundry improvised beneath her frame. To anyone this is an unholy sight, dreadful to say the least. No girl her age should be in a situation like this. It's grotesque... To the right eyes, however, she's temptation incarnated.
What will you do?
----------------------THE END?----------------------
This is where my partners would usually pick up. RPs would go in all kinds of weird, different directions. Fun!
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