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let me guess…
Tights?
so in the end I did pick the right profile name.. it comes in handy in so many situations…lol
Kisses to all
:-* :-* :-* :-* :-* :-* :-* :-* :-* :-*
Of course Rukya, I can imagine that from your perspective 🙂
tnx Sinnnn
Considering this section is about group play, and since there is not tit fuck position in the group poses (correct me if I'm wrong), maybe there is a need for this pose?
Sinnnn,
the one 'objection' I have with your fantasay is that it is put in a story which is set in a fantasy town/world (as in dungeons and dragons), with magical creatures and powers unknown to the real world.. IM-ing and messaging is a big leap ion the story. Would you mind if your story became a seperate thread instead of being added to the fantasy story?
The thought alone is stomach churning… dispicable in my eyes. If someone actually consiered going there, I'd advice to seek for professional help. The one suggesting seems to be beyond help..
welcome back Sinnnn
1. There are no restrictiions in the game to how many accounts a user wants to have.
2. This is what the picture upload tool requires to have accepted before a pic is uploaded:
 Before uploading, please accept:By uploading the picture I take full responsibility for the content of it. I certify that the picture does not contain unacceptable content, and I own all required permissions to upload the picture to this public area.
I understand and accept, that in any doubtful case the owner of the web site can delete the picture without warning, and can contact me if further investigation is needed.What kind of pic someone uses on their profile is their choice.
3. All members are free to report abuse or harrassment in game, to the A-team.I hope everyone will stay level headed in this discussion.
as a note, I have asked Keiko, the mod for this section, to move the discussion to the right section, everything about sex and love
sweet jeanona,
it looks awesome! I am glad you made something for us guys.. It would make me proud to wear a jeanona's original
Go kick Tom's butt so we will have your designs available asaap..The Castle of the Queen
As in a trance the Queen is focussed on the flickering images in the mirror. The surface flowing up and down, emerging from the centre and cascading to the sides. Ripples of silver, grey and green disclosing pictures and scenes for her eyes only. The mirror’s powers, bound to the power of the legal Queen, not only show her the images she demands, but also gives her the ability to transfer into a shadow form that can enter dreams and manipulate thoughts. An ability she has used often before, seeking the receptive mind of an innocent man, driving him to sexual madness in his dreams without letting him release. Withdrawing before he awakes, she pleases herself, the utter dispair of the man still lingering in her mind, feeding her lust
With the shimmer of a smile on her face, she watches the Ranger spill his seed into the body of the insignificant serving girl, his virility, hunger and selfish conduct amusing her. Unconsciously she squeezes her thighs together, a flutter of desire stirring her sex as she sees the thick shaft of the Ranger slam into the girl. “So this will be my prey. I think I will like this hunt. But before I dispose him, I willl have him for myself” As the images fade away, she abruptly closes the drapes, shutting off her growing desire. Silently she leaves the secret chamber and moves to her private quarters, her long legs striding through the long passages of the large castle. Three girls are waiting for her, ready to assist her in undressing and putting on her travelling atire. As she enters the room and nods, the girls move swiftly towards her and undress her in silence. Naked she stretches herself like a feline, lengthening her back, flexing the muscles in her legs and arms before she allows the girls the help her dress.
The tight body of the grey, almost silver dress is designed to hug her breasts tightly, propping them up into a deep cleavage, only the lace on the hem covering her nipples and areola’s. A little trim of gold weave accentuates her waist and wide hips, the ever-present long slits at the side exposing her long legs. Black leather boots with 6” stiletto heels are slid on her feet, covering her legs up to her knee, smoothly hugging the sensual line of her calfs. A quick look in the mirror, a litle smile forming around her lips as she judges her cleavage, before she strides out and walks through the halls and corridors to the courtyard, where her carriage is waiting. A bataljon of her soldiers stand at attention in the courtyard, waiting at attention as she walks down the steps of the terrace, leading from the main entrance gate. The silver, covered carriage is aligned in the middle, the door opened already. As she nears the carriage, the Captain of the Guard steps forward and offers his arm as she ascends to her seat. With the sharp order of the Captain, the soldiers turn and start marching out of the main gate, the silver carriage, pulled by 6 black stallions slowly starts to roll away, gently handled by the driver as not to discomfort the Queen.
There had always been tention between Litus Meridium and the city-state, as the Kings and Queens had always wanted an accesible harbor, but the big influence of the Houses of the city in the kingdom always preventing an attack. Libidinis always in need of hinterland to protect the city and create a bigger market under their influence kept diplomatic relations high at all costs and encouraged all ties formed between Southcoast and the City. Commercial interests kept a fragile balance in place and maintained for centuries, although there had been squirmishes in the past. But both Libidnis as Southshore as it was often called, were dependend on trade and the possibility to make money always prevaled over the other interests and ambitions.
As the journey leads the Queen through the rolling hills of her lands, covered as a vibrant coloured quilt with wheat- and cornfields, meadows with cattle and lifestock and small woods spread out, she leans back, her eyes staring out the small window.embedded in the side panel. The offer and request of the Brotherhood occupying her thoughts more as pleases her. As she is very familiar with the reputation of Comes, surrendering the city to his deranged mind would be a mistake. Taking out the boy from the equasion, would leave the city in a bitter fight as the Houses would tumble over eachother in their efforts to seize power over the city. The city would have her attention directed inwards, volnurable, distracted the conquering force would be noticed too late and the city taken in a few days. And all she has to do is take over this ranger’s mind and control him, ensuring his succes.
Once the Ranger is corrupted and submerged in decadence of Libidinis, the suspect will be drawn away from the Brotherhood, known for their celibate practice. Yet submitted to her will, helpless in the tight clench of her claws, he will perform his task as instructed. And, as her spies told her, a city from the north has been trying to upset the political balance of Libidinis. Information undoubtedly known to the council of Libidinis, drawing attention away from the Ranger even more. As she plays with the plan in her mind, she slowly starts to get aroused, her heart rate speeding up slowly, her thighs pushing together continuously in a reflex. She closes her eyes and lets the slow sway of the carriage progress through her body. She opens her legs slightly, the splits allowing the cloth to slide up, leaving her thighs exposed almost to the hip, her hand moving over her pale skin, into the cravess that holds and guards her sex. As she touches her clit, a shiver of pleasure trickles down her spine, cascading down her hips and legs, ending in her toes. She enjoys her own touch, but her grip on her desire is too tight to let it out of control. She opens her eyes again and removes her hand from her sex, blinks twice and crosses her legs again, her thighs clenching just a fraction tighter together as before. Libidinis will quench her thirst for power, the ranger will quench her thirst for sex. “Patience patience, I will play with him before I kill him. I’ll visit him in his dream again tonight” An eerie laugh leaves her throat as she tilts her head back, stretching her long neck.
Tavern the Anvil
My eyes flare open, my mind immediatly clear and focussed, my hand sliding over the sheets that covered me and Sinah during the night, only to find the spot she occupied empty and cold. The first rays of the sun force themselves through the small cracks of the shutters, announcing the break of day. Her shift has started and I never noticed her slipping out of bed, pushed into a deep sleep after she claimed me and rode my cock. Slowly I slide out of the bed and walk to the small stand with the bowl of water on it. I wash my face, my chest and lower body quickly, before dressing. I move around with calculated moves, testing the strength and trust in my ankles. As they warm up, I find steady footing and head down to the main room of the tavern. The old woman behind the counter, the dark pockets under her eyes disclosing her tiredness, pretends I’m not there. I sit myself down at a table, a different one as last night to prevent a routine or a reference, and call for her. As if her feet are glued to the tiled floor, she drags herself to my table, not mentioning a word or even looking at me. I order a simple breakfast regardless of her lack of attention. Eggs, bread and beans with a jug of water. As she slowly scuffs off, I lean back in my chair and pull my hood over my eyes.
A few minutes later the food is dropped on the table, the water spilling from the jug, marking the table. Desinterested the woman turns and leaves me to myself. Quickly I eat and empty my plate, finishing with a large drink of water. I slide from the chair, pulling the hood down further to cover my face and eyes. Weary of my ankles, I start moving towards the exit, staying as close to the walls as possible. Though the morning is still young, there are already a few customers conversing with dampened voices. As I open the door, I avert my eyes from the bright early sun and slip away. Outside the door I turn right, into the narrow street that leads towards the central square. Falling back to my training I blend in with the crowd that is just up at the start of a new day or returning home after a night of festivities.
As the opening of the festival is at hand, all kinds of parties are organised, entertaining the visitors and inhabitants of Libidinis, keeping a steady flow of people on the street during all hours. The perfect circumstances to disappear amongst the people, my common face seen and forgotten, and to find my way without being noticed. I reach the central square, where the crowd is so large, people are squeezed together, moving along with the slow pace of a congested bowel. After crossing the crowded market at the heart of the square, I turn towards the harbor, the scent of fish and the sea drifting on the air. I follow the scent down a broad street and soon find myself in the crowded midst of fish mongers, carriers and customers. A small square which ends at the docks, is filled to the brim with stalls and shops, displaying a big array of fish and shell-fish, the fruits of the sea. The market is enclosed on both sides by tall buildings, one housing the auction, the centre of the activities. To the right, a small arched corridor leads to a narrow street, the other side of the market closed off by warehouses.
This should be the street where Delniz has his workshop, the only street leading to the east from the fish market. With the outlay of the city engraved in my memory, I confidently walk under the arched canape of the corridor and enter street, paved with cobble stones. After a few hundred yards I see the tin violin on the facade of a smal shop and as I near it, I can see some instruments displayed behind a barred window. Without hesitation I step through the door next to the display window, setting off a little tingle, a bell attached just besides the door calling for the attention of the shopkeeper. I step into the shop, the walls lined with planks, violins, citars and lutes in all sizes and colours set in a simple order, the price determining position. After a few moments a stumble draws my attention to a small door at the back and an old man steps through it. Though his face is grooved with lines and wrinkles disclosing his high age, his hands show a high level of awareness and control, his sharp eyes taking his visitor in with a quick glance.
His steel blue eyes and the blonde hair mixed in with the grey of his beard, hint to his northern descent. His ancestors came from the high north where the seas are frozen and life is cld and harsh. His eyes now pierce in mine, mustering me, trying to look into my soul, looking for a hint of deceit in my look. Then, without a word, he turns and disappears through the door he enter through. Accustomed with the practice at the monastery, I take his silent disappearance as as an invitation to follow him. I step through and as I enter the little workshop, the tidyness of it strikes me. All tools are neatly arranged by size and use, hanging from hooks on the wall or placed for immediate use on planks. Wood is carefull sorted by colour and size. Not a splinter of wood or a speck of dust can be found on the workbench or floor, as if the workshop had not been in use for years. Yet several instruments are worked on, as some of them are placed in clamps or drying on a shelf. A skylight in the flat ceiling, a single sheet of plain glass, offers the brightness of day, and must have costed a fortune.
The old man stands silently, leaning against his workbench, his cold eyes fixed on me, his expression empty. Unsure what to say I step a little closer. “I was sent by the Brotherhood” I look at him closely as I utter the words. Without flinching and without saying a word, Delniz steps aside and opens a secret hatch, seemlessly hidden in the floor. He reaches inside the small hiding place and takes out a small package, bundled in sheep leather. He pushes it into my hands with more force as needed, almost glad to be rid of it. His gesture also making me take a step back. “Come back in two days, at noon” Then he turns and leaves as he steps through the door and in a glimpse I see the ankle of a woman, her calf slender and strong quickly hidden behind the wall. I hide the bundle under my vest and leave through the door. I reach the exit in a few steps as I rush through the shop, pulling the door shut behind me. I turn right and walk off, the sounds of the fishmarket dying off in the distance.
there is an option to search by name, but it is almost invisible. In left top corner, after clicking 'members', above the first profile pics and slighty right of the word 'community' and the arrows to flick through the pages, is a small link called 'partner search'. If you click that link, you can search for profile name, age, gender, location, etc.
@ Christina I take a picture in the texture viewer, then place each picture in a seperate frame and use a program (fireworks) to transfer it to an 'animated gif' -file.
Not sure if this is working, but if it does everyone can see the entire design without the webpage having to load endless pics..:
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2 days ago i talked to a girl that was confronted with exactly, but to the letter exactly what happened to you Christina. While it made my stomach turn, she seemed proud at first. But as we talked about it, she realised her face is shown in the video and it got her worried that someone in her close surroundings will recognise her.
The story sounded too similar. One thing is clear, there are a lot of bastards online and sometimes I feel ashamed of being a man. I have shared pics and email adresses with a few of my friends but it wouldn't even come to my mind to put these online. I view it as something very personal, something shared between close friends/lovers, strictly private. In fact I think it is criminal to do something like you've described.
Thank you for sharing your story and I hope the lesson is picked up and not taken for granted.
edited: Point taken Lover..
Rukya, I think Keiko called it: dissociated nail paint
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