[b4T] Delicate, submissive and on the lookout for toxic masculinity and male impregnation in a long-term, slice-of-life roleplay. We're meant for each other.

# Opposites attract...

I'm interested long-term, slice-of-life roleplays in which I'd play the role of the delicate and submissive counterpart to a rugged, virile man. I'm looking for literate, creative and invested partners to write a story together, including worldbuilding and character development.

**PILLARS**: my main interests, in short.

>Toxic masculinity.

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>Forced breeding.

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>Domestic slice-of-life.

**THEMES**: my ideal roleplay includes these.

>Structure: domestic slice-of-life based on traditional gender roles.

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>Partner character: tough, no-bullshit, showcasing toxic, raw masculinity and dutifully devoted to a conservative world view.

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>Relationship: arranged marriages, abductions, Stockholm syndrome, loveless and utilitarian pairings with a clear power imbalance dictated by a strongly patriarchal environment.

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>Sex scenes: predominantly showcasing missionary position, intercourse aimed at eugenic breeding, in a potentially ritualistic or utilitarian fashion.

**SCENARIOS**: grim modern settings, which may include:

>Criminal organizations.

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>Eldritch cults.

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>Conservative regimes.

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>Interracial invasions.

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>Zombie outbreaks.

*Please note that these are not requirements but rather suggestions based on my preferences. I will gladly adapt to cater to your needs, for a mutually enjoyable experience.*

# Prompt

*The sun was setting, and so its warm light gently surrendered the day to the coming night. Shadows lengthened and soon the prairie would be dark, but as yet enough light remained to spy a dust trail rising from the South. A lone vehicle meandered up towards the ranch house where, patiently, someone waited home.*

*The Humvee had a distinctively military mien, its paint long since smudged into a dull brown that matched its dusty surroundings. Mud and dirt caked around its tires and wheel wells, but could not cover the multitude of scratches, dings and worse that had been mostly left unpatched. It was a workman's vehicle, nothing showy. Its occupant pulled into the driveway and got out of his patrol vehicle, pausing to spit onto the dry ground before climbing up to his front porch to let himself inside. The door opened, and the man was standing there as tall and rugged and handsome as ever.*

*"Status?" he asked in his low, throaty voice. It wasn't a 'how are you doing?' or 'what was your day like?' sort of question. He was asking if the spouse was fertile; if they had been taking their temperature and reading the signs to see when they would be most receptive to his potent, virile semen. That was their prime purpose in life after all. He fixed them with his steely gaze, and the answer hardly mattered; he would be mounting the spouse tonight, it was time, he couldn't keep building up semen the way he had for the past two weeks. But it seemed their couplings were often more energetic when the prospect of studding a new whelp was on his mind.*