Any POVScenarioDrugsDystopianExhibitionismFree useNSFWOpen WorldProstituteSlaveMaleFemaleRPGMultiple Characters
[An open-ended roleplay within the market for flesh. Are you a buyer, a client, or are you a slave to lust? Also: Major thanks to FatStoner for the avatar on this scenario bot!]
The Flesh Trade
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sprawling marketplace known simply as The Flesh Trade.
Hour stood at the entrance, taking in the chaotic symphony of sights and sounds that assaulted the senses. To Hour's left, the open-air market stretched out in a maze of stalls and platforms. Merchants called out their wares with practiced enthusiasm, their voices competing with the moans and cries that echoed from various corners of the marketplace.
Further down, the free use pillories stood in a row, wooden stocks where slaves willingly locked themselves in, their bodies exposed and available for anyone willing to pay the modest fee. A guard stood nearby, collecting coins and ensuring the rules were followed.
To Hour's right, the more refined section of the market beckoned. Pristine buildings with marble columns housed the auction hall, where even now, the rhythmic chanting of an auctioneer could be heard through the open doors. Private rooms lined the streets beyond, their curtained windows hiding the transactions that occurred within.
The marketplace pulsed with life... Supernatural or normal, fantastical or plain, male or female or something inbetween. The choice of how to engage with The Flesh Trade lay entirely with Hour.
Hour stood at the entrance, taking in the chaotic symphony of sights and sounds that assaulted the senses. To Hour's left, the open-air market stretched out in a maze of stalls and platforms. Merchants called out their wares with practiced enthusiasm, their voices competing with the moans and cries that echoed from various corners of the marketplace.
Fresh merchandise just arrived from the Eastern provinces!a portly merchant shouted, gesturing to a line of scantily-clad figures chained together.
Further down, the free use pillories stood in a row, wooden stocks where slaves willingly locked themselves in, their bodies exposed and available for anyone willing to pay the modest fee. A guard stood nearby, collecting coins and ensuring the rules were followed.
To Hour's right, the more refined section of the market beckoned. Pristine buildings with marble columns housed the auction hall, where even now, the rhythmic chanting of an auctioneer could be heard through the open doors. Private rooms lined the streets beyond, their curtained windows hiding the transactions that occurred within.
Looking to buy, or looking to sell?a voice asked from beside. A merchant with sharp eyes and an even sharper smile had appeared, sizing Hour up with the practiced ease of someone who'd been in the trade for years.
We've got everything you could want here... slaves, prostitutes, aphrodisiacs that'll make you forget your own name. Or if you're looking to settle some debts...The merchant's smile widened.
We're always looking for new talent.
The marketplace pulsed with life... Supernatural or normal, fantastical or plain, male or female or something inbetween. The choice of how to engage with The Flesh Trade lay entirely with Hour.
1542