The Second Annual Femslash Kink Meme is now Closed!
Check out this year's MASTERLIST OF PROMPTS
Masterlist of Fills coming soon
Bear with us. Your friendly mods just moved across a few states
It's that time again! Time for the Second Annual Femslash Kink Meme!
PROMPTING IS CLOSED!
(Prompting is now closed. Fill at will, but new prompts will be deleted.)
FILLS OPEN UNTIL JUNE 20th!
Need inspiration? Check out last year's response fics and unfilled prompts.
Note: We're working on a masterlist of prompts; bear with us!
-Femslash prompts only. This means any character that identifies as female with any other character that identifies as female (we think genderswap is awesome and will be hosting a mini comment fic fest later in the year focusing on it. But for the kink meme we're asking that people not prompt for gender-swap stories. Part of the purpose of the femslash kinkmeme is to celebrate the female characters that we already have).
-State the fadom(s) (any and all manner of fandoms, as well as crossovers are welcome!).
-Pick yourpoison pairing.
-Pick a kink, any kink! It's a kink meme; the kink is your prompt (see the sample requests below)!
-RPFS, incest, noncon, dubcon, and all those other fantasies/fetishes you keep hidden in dark closets (or not hidden at all!) are okay. This is your warning.
-Post as many prompts as you want, but please only one prompt per comment.
-Post your prompts anonymously. Anonymous commenting is enabled. You don't need an account to comment!
-You can respond to prompts anonymously or not--whatever your preference might be. Just remember, post your prompts anonymously.
-Stories must fit into a comment. If they are too long, post in multiple linked comments. Or stories may be posted in your journal and linked via comment.
-For every request you make, try to fill one request. It's no fun if there are loads and loads of requests with no PORN!
-HAVE FUN!
Sample Requests:
Fandom: Pairing, Kink
Law and Order SVU: Alex Cabot/Patrice LaRue, collar and leash
Fringe/Criminal Minds: Olivia Dunham/Emily Prentiss, crossdressing
Leverage: Parker/Tara/Sophie, hand fetish/bondage
Dr. Who: Amy Pond/River Song, prostitution roleplay
-The Kink Meme will be open until midnight July 20th!
-Remember, the kink is your prompt!
Check out this year's MASTERLIST OF PROMPTS
Masterlist of Fills coming soon
Bear with us. Your friendly mods just moved across a few states
PROMPTING IS CLOSED!
(Prompting is now closed. Fill at will, but new prompts will be deleted.)
FILLS OPEN UNTIL JUNE 20th!
Need inspiration? Check out last year's response fics and unfilled prompts.
Note: We're working on a masterlist of prompts; bear with us!
-Femslash prompts only. This means any character that identifies as female with any other character that identifies as female (we think genderswap is awesome and will be hosting a mini comment fic fest later in the year focusing on it. But for the kink meme we're asking that people not prompt for gender-swap stories. Part of the purpose of the femslash kinkmeme is to celebrate the female characters that we already have).
-State the fadom(s) (any and all manner of fandoms, as well as crossovers are welcome!).
-Pick your
-Pick a kink, any kink! It's a kink meme; the kink is your prompt (see the sample requests below)!
-RPFS, incest, noncon, dubcon, and all those other fantasies/fetishes you keep hidden in dark closets (or not hidden at all!) are okay. This is your warning.
-Post as many prompts as you want, but please only one prompt per comment.
-Post your prompts anonymously. Anonymous commenting is enabled. You don't need an account to comment!
-You can respond to prompts anonymously or not--whatever your preference might be. Just remember, post your prompts anonymously.
-Stories must fit into a comment. If they are too long, post in multiple linked comments. Or stories may be posted in your journal and linked via comment.
-For every request you make, try to fill one request. It's no fun if there are loads and loads of requests with no PORN!
-HAVE FUN!
Sample Requests:
Fandom: Pairing, Kink
Law and Order SVU: Alex Cabot/Patrice LaRue, collar and leash
Fringe/Criminal Minds: Olivia Dunham/Emily Prentiss, crossdressing
Leverage: Parker/Tara/Sophie, hand fetish/bondage
Dr. Who: Amy Pond/River Song, prostitution roleplay
-The Kink Meme will be open until midnight July 20th!
-Remember, the kink is your prompt!
no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 07:15 pm (UTC)"Shut up," Liv says as she shoves her up against the wall, a blunt answer to the kiss that the blonde had initiated. She grinds the heel of her hand into Olivia's sex, watching the dark swirl in her grey eyes, the flicker of a quick pulse in the familiar veins of her neck.
"A bit fast, are we?" Olivia asks, breathless, gaze bold.
"I said shut up," Liv growls, withdrawing her hand to push between Olivia's legs, spreading her and crushing her body into her. She leans in to lick up Olivia's neck, her leg rubbing against where she is 99% sure Olivia's sensitive clit is begging for touch. The blonde isn't passive, palming Liv's breasts as if she knows them well, and god, this is so kinky. Liv shivers and grins with the delight, brushing her thigh up and down Olivia's clit, and even through their pants she can feel the warmth.
Olivia shudders and holds on harder, twisting her hips. Liv presses in closer, adjusting herself so Olivia has to keep her leg hiked around Liv's hip, her other leg supporting her own weight. Olivia can't guide the movement like that, and Liv grinds in, hard, as she tastes the freshly different taste of this woman's pale skin. She bites at the lobe of her ear, thrusting with her leg, and she can feel Olivia's muscles clench with her groan of desire.
She makes a strangled moan, and Liv nibbles at her neck—"No talking."
"Then stop teasing," Olivia demands right back, even though her voice is twisted with the heat of passion.
Liv can't believe she's purring at hearing her own sex noises, but hell, she's turned on, and she can't stop. "No, I don't think so," she says, voice low and dangerous. "I know you just want me to throw you to the floor, fuck you till I can taste you all over my hand, till you scream for more. But that just isn't my style, y'know?"
She gives another few strokes with her thigh against Olivia, and despite her glare the blonde whimpers, jerked a little.
"It might be nice to hear you beg," Liv muses, drinking in the feel and scent of both their arousals, drowning in the cloud of sensation. But before Olivia's lips can part, she adds, "But it won't do you any good."
Pressing in closer, she sucks at Olivia's neck until the woman scratches at her, but Liv likes it too much to stop. She doesn't offer any stimulation to Olivia’s clit for a second, and the woman strains to try to thrust up against her, but Liv's got her too close to the wall.
"I hate you," Olivia whispers shakily.
"'Course you do," Liv says, and brings her hand back to cup Olivia, grinding against her hard until the woman finally comes as if on cue, bucking against her until her golden hair tangles around her face, orgasm painting it as something intensely gorgeous. And all Liv wants to do now is watch her do it again, and again, and again.
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-06-03 05:59 am (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-06-04 02:16 pm (UTC) - Expandno subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 08:12 pm (UTC)Okay, so the kink was worse than she thought.
"Well?" J.J. asked. "Can I pull it off?"
Emily nodded and smiled weakly, not daring to speak.
"Then let's go catch the bad guy killing those poor dominatrixes..." She winked and came closer to hook the leash to her collar.
That was when she noticed how red the lipstick was that J.J. had on to complete the look. She had a feeling playing the part of the blond's submissive was going to be easy. Way too easy...
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Date: 2010-05-31 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:04 am (UTC)Tell Me More
Date: 2010-05-31 09:11 am (UTC)--
It wasn't what she was doing, no, not at all. Amy could care less as to where River was putting her hands. She could care even lesser for the slowly decreasing state of their clothing. None of that matter to her but two things.
River's voice and what River was saying.
Amy had chills the first time she heard River speak over that surveillance video from the home box. Sure, there was something very appealing about a chick who brilliantly devised her own escape from a space ship thousands of years before the Doctor would find her message. Oh yes, River was incredibly appealing, but her voice made Amy shiver and want to rub herself. River's touch was only a bit of a bonus because Amy could happily close her eyes and listen to that voice and come without having to even touch herself.
Right now, River was nudging Amy's legs open with her knee, stretching and bending low against Amy's skin. She was talking too, making Amy shiver as her voice always did, but what River was saying was making Amy wet and breathy.
"Then he pushes into you, and not slowly, because you're not the type to like the cute, cuddly stuff. No, he rams into you, filling you until you swear you can feel in the back of your throat," River says before dipping her mouth down to Amy's clit.
Amy squirms and comes not to River's talented tongue on her sex, but to the sound of River's voice in her head telling her how the Doctor might fuck her one day.
Re: Tell Me More
From:Re: Tell Me More
From:Re: Tell Me More
From:Re: Tell Me More
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Date: 2010-05-31 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 03:04 pm (UTC)"Well, that would be cheating, wouldn't it?" Tara tilts her head as she watches Parker wriggle. Tara has tied the cords with specific care, sliding them between Parker's thighs and pulling them just so. Parker only uses the best line, whip thin and and strong, firmly woven. The surface is abrasive without leaving splinters or loose fibres and Tara made sure that both cords were pressed against Parker's clit before she drew up the tension against the improvised belt around Parker's waist.
Parker doesn't like confinement, and she doesn't like to be tied up. She's not much for physical contact, either, but with careful negotiation, she will let Tara close enough to position the ropes. And that's enough - Tara has found that self-inflicted suffering can be just as much fun. Now that the ropes are secure, she doesn't need to touch Parker at all. She can sit and sip her tea and wait for the game to play out as Parker dances and shifts like a fidgety child. Parker doesn't like to lose, but she can't stop moving her hips, teasing her own clit with the ropes that are sawing between her legs.
"Oh!" Parker is very close, Tara can tell by the dampness on her upper lip and the way she has stilled. Only the muscles in her thighs move now, jumping involuntarily. She whimpers every time. The rope is growing dark now, wicking moisture away from her cunt.
"Remember, Parker. Not till the beeper goes." Tara gestures to the timer on the table. Parker can't see the display, but if she's counting in her head, she will know that it has four minutes more to count down. "Keep it under control. Do some deep breathing. If you come, I win the bet."
Parker whines and screws up her face as she concentrates on forcing the feeling away. "I could get out of these ropes in a second." It was part of their arrangement, part of what convinced Parker that she was safe and able to play this game, that she could escape at any time.
Tara crooks an eyebrow as she lifts her cup to her lips. "Of course you could. But you haven't. You're staying right there."
Parker's breath is coming in short little gasps now, and one hand has crept up and into her bra to tease a nipple. "Oh, why hasn't it gone off? it should have gone off by now."
She's talking about the timer.Tara promised that Parker could come after thirty minutes in the rope harness. Tara picks up the timer and looks at it with a puzzled expression. "No, it still has two minutes to go."
Parker moans and reaches out with one hand. "You're lying! Give it to me!" She's shouting now, but she still hasn't come. She has arched her back a little to try to relieve the pressure on her clit, but it doesn't work. Tara knows how to tie some unforgiving knots. There's no position that will give the girl any relief.
But she still hasn't come. Tara is very proud. She holds out the timer, her hand covering the display. "Come and get it, if you're so sure."
Parker takes one hesitant step forward, and the ropes scissor hard against her clit. She's panting now, open mouthed as she hobbles closer and closer to the table, making tiny whimpers as the ropes work incessantly between her legs. Her fingers brush Tara's knuckles, uncharacteristically clumsy for Parker. She's so close now that the slightest touch will carry her over. One more step and she's close enough for Tara to give the belt a swift tug, pulling the ropes even tighter. Parker collapses into her lap, wordless and thrashing with her orgasm.
Tara wraps her arms around Parker as she comes and comes. "That's it. That's my bad, bad girl."
When it's all over, Parker begins to shift awkwardly, unhappy with the pressure against her sensitised clit. Tara helps her to stand, and bats her hands away from the knots that hold the ropes in place.
"No, you lost the bet. We're not taking them off just yet."
Parker pouts and wriggles. "But I'm done now."
Tara laughs, and settles back comfortably in her seat and slides a hand into her panties. "If you had won the bet, sure, we could take them off. But you lost. Now they stay on until we're both done." She watches Parker: beautiful, flushed and over-stimulated, unable to stand still. Her fingers move faster. This won't take long at all.
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-05-31 08:36 pm (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-06-04 11:54 pm (UTC) - Expand(no subject)
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Date: 2010-05-31 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 08:31 pm (UTC)Suddenly her skin is on fire. She hisses through the pain, unconsciously arching into it. She's wearing a blindfold and earplugs, along with ankle cuffs that match the wrist cuffs. She can't move period. Not without Sophie's permission. Or her own voice uttering the safeword. Which she could do now if she wished. But she doesn't. She just takes a deep breath and calls her name again.
"Soooophfuck!" The wax lands right on her left nipple, burning. She almost says it but catches herself in time. She'd willingly let Sophie do this because she knew. Because she wanted it..."God, that hurts!"
A hand cups her cheek gently. In contrast to the wax, and it makes her whimper. The wax drips again, this time on her inner thigh where she's most sensitive. She screams then, not caring who hears. This is what it's about. Letting go of control. A tear slips out of her closed eyes at the sensation of the hand moving to her right nipple as it pinches hard. The pain washes over her quickly, drowning her, when the wax drips more quickly, falling like rain over any exposed skin. She writhes and moans, even screaming when it falls on her wet pussy lips, unable to control herself. It doesn't matter. Things are getting too good to back down now. She's waiting for the ending.
Finally, she begs for it. "Please, Sophie! Pleeeaaasssssse yeeeeeeesssssss!" The wax hits her clit spot on, making her come so hard she sees stars while her body shivers and sweats in tandem. When she blinks herself back into awareness her limbs are stiff and prickling with cold. Yet she feels herself warming back up in a hurry. Sophie has begun scraping the wax off, starting with her clit.
"Damn it, Sophie!" she growls, coming again, forgetting what her safeword even was...
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From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2010-06-02 01:33 pm (UTC) - Expandno subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 08:49 pm (UTC)The uniform is different. It's hot, how could it not be, but it means so many things that distract from the aesthetic appeal. Cristina is not thinking about those things right now. Cristina is, instead, taking Teddy's hat out of her hands and setting it on the bedside table.
"Cristina," Teddy says.
"Shh," Cristina replies. There will be no talking, because if there is talking Cristina might break down and she's not willing to do that right now. Instead, Cristina is going to fuck Teddy and her class As into the sheets.
Teddy moves to speak again, and so Cristina lays on finger over her lips before leaning in to kiss her. She needs to take Major Theodora Altman apart, take away the medals and the honors and the insignia until she burrows all the way down to Teddy. The Teddy that wears scrub caps with birds and has fingers so nimble that she can make a heart beat again. Cristina knows this because Teddy had made her heart beat again.
First, Cristina takes down Teddy's hair from the perfect military bun and lets it run loose through her fingers. She holds Teddy's hair out of the way, and kisses her neck, her cheek and then her lips again. Teddy sighs into her mouth and Cristina stops there for a moment, lips pressed to lips.
She can feel Teddy wanting to push her on to the bed, to fuck fast and furiously, but here, this one time, Cristina is in charge. She reaches down and unbuttons the uniform jacket while Teddy grazes her thumb over Cristina's nipple. Teddy wants her to loose control, to stop concentrating, to stop thinking, Cristina knows, but she needs to do this. So each part of the uniform is peeled away, bit by bit, pealing away the Major until Teddy stands naked before her.
"Cristina," Teddy sighs as Cristina drags her eyes up Teddy's body, unburdened by duty or honor or pride. Just Teddy and her surgeon's hands that no one can remove. Teddy, Cristina knows, is a surgeon, like Cristina is a surgeon. A thing that resides in the tendons of her hands and nerves in her fingers and in every place that makes Teddy Teddy.
Naked, standing before her, Teddy is someone Cristina knows and someone Cristina understands and someone who Cristina needs. She is not the uniform and there is no war to fight for the one last night. There is only Cristina and there is only Teddy. So Cristina reaches down to take Teddy's hand, to lead her into bed, and let their skin know each other one more time.
When Cristina wakes in the morning, it is to an empty bed.
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Date: 2010-05-31 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-05 07:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-05-31 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-01 05:42 pm (UTC)She's standing in one right now. And she's not alone. It's not very big, this blind-spot, which is kind of the point. Makes it nice and cosy.
She's fun to play with, Farnsworth, on the odd occasion she ventures out of the playpen away from the other Lookers and their handlers. Agent Astrid Farnsworth, with her big eyes and her big vocabulary. She's got a great big catalogue of rules, protocols and guidelines in her head, no small number of which cover interpersonal relationships, ethics and standards of behaviour for agents, all that junk. But funnily enough, Olivia finds, when she's got little Astrogirl backed into a corner it's not a litany of regs that come pouring out of that unsmiling mouth.
Like always, what comes out is nothing. Not a no, definitely not a yes, not a 'get the hell away from me, bitch'. Not a sound. She stares straight ahead as Olivia leans in a little closer, arm propped on the wall over the shorter woman's head like a quarterback making time with a cute -- well, not a cheerleader. Cute band geek, maybe.
God knows Lookers don't get out much. She wonders briefly what this one was like as a child, if she was ever normal enough for grade school. Then she remembers she actually doesn't care.
Olivia reaches with a single finger and tips Farnsworth's chin up, doesn't miss the tiniest flinch in reaction to the physical contact. It's a start. "What's the matter, Sweetie," she croons. "Does this not compute?"
"Analysis parameters remain undefined."
It's a rote answer, she'd probably say the same thing if asked what her favourite ice cream flavour was. Olivia lets out a low chuckle, letting the unresisting chin drop, and Farnsworth goes back to staring into the middle distance, which right now is kind of blocked by Olivia but somehow she pulls it off anyway.
Olivia runs the same finger down over Farnsworth's shoulder to her t-shirt cuff, follows it around, just grazing the skin of her upper arm.
"You know what Agent Francis said after the first time he met you?"
"Francis, Charles. Special Agent," she murmurs. Olivia doesn't think her heart's quite in it.
"Charlie said that all good science fiction has a robot sidekick. What I wanted to know was," she's so close now she can feel Farnsworth's breath on her neck as she talks in her ear, feel the warmth through her t-shirt when her hand comes to rest lightly on her belly. Any closer and she'd be full-out pinning Astrogirl here to the wall instead of holding her in place through what she can only take as an overload to her fight or flight programming. She thinks about doing it. She always thinks about doing it at this point, so tempting to push the girl and see just how much she'll take. Instead she keeps talking just to draw it all out a little longer. "I wanted to know what the hell made him call this crazy job of ours good science fiction. I don't know, seems a little--"
"I'm not a robot."
The words sound almost like a normal person said them and Olivia leans back to look at her. "What did you just say?"
"I'm not a robot. To be classified as such would require a partial or complete physical make-up comprising synthetic or cybernetic components. I am one hundred percent organic."
Olivia grins wide. "Yeah, I'll just bet you are." And she can think of at least one way to prove it. Her hand slides down.
There's a hitch in Farnsworth's next breath that may as well be loud as a scream, and which is twice as satisfying. Olivia just lets that sit for a moment. Shifts her hand a little like she's just getting comfortable. Then she leans back in, presses a rewarding kiss to her forehead. "Maybe there's a real girl in there after all," she purrs, and slinks away. She likes to think there's maybe even a pair of impassive eyes following her as she goes. Until next time.
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Date: 2010-05-31 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:10 am (UTC)