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Cheerleader to Sex Slave

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YogapantSlut

Virgin
Joined
Jun 24, 2019
Posts
22
Thank you for reading my post, I am an incoming english major looking to write an ongoing story/roleplay with an incredibly detailed, articulate, and No limits older dom. The roleplay will consist of you abducting and training me, an 18 year old cheerleader through bondage, torture, and humiliation.

I generally use kik or google hangouts to roleplay and have/can take plenty of slutty photos. Please check out the photos attached for inspiration.
If you are interested in pursuing a no limits long term roleplay/relationship please respond to the following prompt.

Intro:
It's late afternoon on a hot June day at the University of Alabama, where you are the head coach. Each year you select an incoming freshman as your "project". Due to your position of power you have unquestionable authority that allows you to pick a freshman to corrupt in your own personal sex slave.
You are at cheerleading try outs with your assistant Natasha going over this year's prospects. You groan as countless twig shaped girls try out for the team. "I'm sorry Sir. I'm sure there's a candidate here somewhere." She responds quickly trying to keep you happy. At that moment you see me, a 5'2 Brunette weighing about 115lbs. You notice my pretty face but what really grabs your attention is my big round ample cheeks that bounce and jiggle with each step. You smile as you see I'm wearing skin tight black spandex shorts that are so stretched out they turn transparent when I bend over revealing my tiny little pink thong being swallowed by my soccerball shaped bubblebutt cheeks.

Please describe as detailed as you can watching my performance and how my big round meaty ass looks like it's gonna burst right out of my shorts and how badly you want to punish me for being such a little cock tease. You imagine me tied up and screaming in your basement.
 
Cheerleader to a Sex Slave

"Amber wondered what the hell was going on. She was digging the sting of the flogger on her buttocks. Her pussy was juicing freely. Her bloodstream was carrying tons of yummy endorphins. She had just floated off into subspace when Tara jumped out in that stupid blue and white Holloween costume Clarence had given her.

'Give me a 'F,' gimmie a 'L,' gimmie an 'O,' gimmie...'"

Love and Kisses

Lisa Ann
 
CuteSlaveLisa said:
"Amber wondered what the hell was going on. She was digging the sting of the flogger on her buttocks. Her pussy was juicing freely. Her bloodstream was carrying tons of yummy endorphins. She had just floated off into subspace when Tara jumped out in that stupid blue and white Holloween costume Clarence had given her.

'Give me a 'F,' gimmie a 'L,' gimmie an 'O,' gimmie...'"

Love and Kisses

Lisa Ann
Click to expand...

I love it!
 
YogapantSlut said:
Please describe as detailed as you can watching my performance and how my big round meaty ass looks like it's gonna burst right out of my shorts and how badly you want to punish me for being such a little cock tease. You imagine me tied up and screaming in your basement.
Click to expand...
I await the arrival of the tentacle creatures. You're bound and helpless when meaty tendrils emerge from nowhere and deeply probe your every bodily orifice. Their slimy sea-smell drives you mad. Your scream is muffled by the tentacles(s) in your mouth and nose, down your throat and airway, penetrating nerve endings into your brain, controlling you totally. Fun, hey? But do they 1) never stop, 2) abandon you, or 3) devour you?
 
The summer sun beat down hard, trying its best to melt us all against the turf of the practice field. I didn't like what I was seeing. The linebackers weren't tackling well. The receivers were dropping balls. The quarterback's throws lacked the accuracy I demanded.

Six months earlier, we'd won the national championship. My third as a head coach. But every summer the ritual began anew. As the head coach, I had to mold the rough, shapeless clay of young men into a winning football team. Past success didn't matter. Every year was a new challenge. Looking over the field, I wondered how we'd be able to defeat South Carolina in our September match up. Judging from the pathetic performances I saw around me, the task looked hopeless.

"Coach?" I heard a familiar feminine voice behind me.

My jaw clenched in exasperation. It was Natasha, the cheerleading squad director. With all the football problems I saw around me, the cheerleading squad was the last thing I wanted to deal with.

But it was part of the job. I turned around and put on as cheerful a face as I could.

"What is it, Natasha?" I asked.

"I've got some of the new recruits for the cheer squad with me," she said, with a smile so wide and perky it defied belief.

I looked over the recruits. They were the same as ever: lithe and eager and mostly blond. Perky, looking me in the eye, with chests pushed forward. In another setting, in another mood, I might have been interested. But I had football players to coach. I sighed and rolled my eyes and thought about how I would tell Natasha that it was not the right time for this.

That's when I saw her. Alone among the cheerleader recruits, she was turned away from me, bent over, apparently tying a shoe. She wore form-fitting black spandex shorts that sculpted a perfectly formed bubbly butt, turned up to my view. The light from the sun overhead exposed a trace of pink under the tight shorts -- a thong, obviously.

Then I saw her face. She looked up from the shoe-tying, gazing behind her, and she caught my eye. She knew I was staring at her butt. She smiled. She had the face of an angel, but the dimples around her mouth and the sparkle in her eye suggested something more complicated than an angel.

And that's when I realized that coaching football wasn't going to be the biggest challenge of the coming fall.
 
SimonDoom said:
The summer sun beat down hard, trying its best to melt us all against the turf of the practice field. I didn't like what I was seeing. The linebackers weren't tackling well. The receivers were dropping balls. The quarterback's throws lacked the accuracy I demanded.

Six months earlier, we'd won the national championship. My third as a head coach. But every summer the ritual began anew. As the head coach, I had to mold the rough, shapeless clay of young men into a winning football team. Past success didn't matter. Every year was a new challenge. Looking over the field, I wondered how we'd be able to defeat South Carolina in our September match up. Judging from the pathetic performances I saw around me, the task looked hopeless.

"Coach?" I heard a familiar feminine voice behind me.

My jaw clenched in exasperation. It was Natasha, the cheerleading squad director. With all the football problems I saw around me, the cheerleading squad was the last thing I wanted to deal with.

But it was part of the job. I turned around and put on as cheerful a face as I could.

"What is it, Natasha?" I asked.

"I've got some of the new recruits for the cheer squad with me," she said, with a smile so wide and perky it defied belief.

I looked over the recruits. They were the same as ever: lithe and eager and mostly blond. Perky, looking me in the eye, with chests pushed forward. In another setting, in another mood, I might have been interested. But I had football players to coach. I sighed and rolled my eyes and thought about how I would tell Natasha that it was not the right time for this.

That's when I saw her. Alone among the cheerleader recruits, she was turned away from me, bent over, apparently tying a shoe. She wore form-fitting black spandex shorts that sculpted a perfectly formed bubbly butt, turned up to my view. The light from the sun overhead exposed a trace of pink under the tight shorts -- a thong, obviously.

Then I saw her face. She looked up from the shoe-tying, gazing behind her, and she caught my eye. She knew I was staring at her butt. She smiled. She had the face of an angel, but the dimples around her mouth and the sparkle in her eye suggested something more complicated than an angel.

And that's when I realized that coaching football wasn't going to be the biggest challenge of the coming fall.
Click to expand...
Wow that was great!
 
Looking over the field, I wondered how we'd be able to defeat South Carolina in our September match up.
Click to expand...

Simon - i started to write that you'd forgotten you were supposed to be Alabama's coach, but on second thought, that's exactly what Nick Saban might say to himself. Or the press as he stares at an unopened coke can and prattles on about good press being like rat poison.
 
BelleCanzuto said:
Simon - i started to write that you'd forgotten you were supposed to be Alabama's coach, but on second thought, that's exactly what Nick Saban might say to himself. Or the press as he stares at an unopened coke can and prattles on about good press being like rat poison.
Click to expand...

My thought too. Somewhere inside he knows he's going to squash the upcoming competition like a bug on a windshield, but what makes him successful is he never stops thinking about the possibility of failure.
 
You might mention Auburn in the Iron Bowl. In addition, Natasha has to get some lesbian action and you have to fuck that bubble butt. Maybe both at once.

AL vs. SC is the first conference game for both teams, so concern about that game fits in.
 
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