This Prompt is Open.

The young maiden stared out of the window of the carriage as it jostled down the old road. ‘No, not a maiden, not anymore,’ she corrected herself. The thought made her both excited and nervous. A fear had gripped her growing up in her family that she would struggle to find a good marriage. She was the eighth child born to her mother and father and the youngest would have to patiently wait her turn for a suitor. Though her new husband had been impatient and had ignored the usual protocol.

The young woman had not heard of her husband, at least, she did not think so, until his name came up as a potential match. It came as quite the shock to her as he had titles and large swathes of lands in the distant provinces. He was far more prestigious a match than she, or her parents, ever thought she could expect for her.

Rumour circulated why she came to the interest of the remote lord: his first wife had died of fever, and more tragic still, his second wife died while with child. The Lord was the last member of his line and he needed to produce an heir and restore his family. Of course there were whispers of a curse or ill-luck, a third wife was not a common thing, especially in so short a time. There might be those families who saw the Lord as perhaps suspect of some foulness that befell his wives.

That was all just court gossip though.

The young woman knew that it wasn’t love that drew her new husband to her. Her mother had proven fruitful and her eldest sister had already produced three healthy children, including a son for her husband. She herself had a comely figure, though small in stature, and seemed fit to aid her husband in protecting his line. Now her house too.

She met her husband after weeks of chatter at the Midsummer Ball. Her mother and sisters fussed and made sure her dress and accoutrement were perfect, even as a few of her older sisters seethed with competitive jealousy. She waited on the side with the other maids until a man approached her. Some of the girls withdrew, intimidated by the man. He was tall and thickly built, like an ox. A fearsome scar marred his hard face. “Miss,” his low voice rumbled like a thunderstorm, “May I have the honour of a dance?”

She agreed and that began their courtship. He was courteous and pleasant. She had never met a man of his stature or build. His hands were hard and calloused and swallowed hers. He asked her father for her hand, and while he tried to observe the custom of marrying the older daughters first, the Lord insisted and offered gifts which soothed concerns and objections.

They were wed at a small ceremony as the groom had no family to offer and only a few associates at court. Once the vows were read and agreed to she saw a fire in her husband’s eyes that scared her and also thrilled her. The burly noble from the provinces was quite the object of interest.

When he carried her off to bed she was nervous, like all newlyweds. The contrast in their bodies was a fascination and a source of anxiety. In their bedchamber he spoke in a soft voice and patiently guided her until she could see all of him in the dim candlelight and he her. Scars covered him, speaking to a life of hardship. When he kissed her and placed his rough hands on her porcelain skin it stole her breath.

There was pain, naturally, but he was as gentle as he could be. The wedding night’s memory caused her cheeks to heat as she recalled it. As the carriage rolled through dark forest she wondered if he put a child within her that night.

He left the next day to return home and prepare for her. She was given time to pack and to follow a week afterwards.

Autumn was already making its presence felt. The woods beyond the primitive road were not the airy lots of parks or carefully manicured estates, they were the primeval remnants of untamed nature. What darkness lurked within the young woman did not know. Even in the bright light of day a dark gloom swallowed up the forest floor under heavy branches, twisted roots and thick trunks.

The comforts of court and of home were not to be found on the road. They stayed at rustic inns where they could, and sometimes she slept in the carriage while the drivers kept a tent and guard. Howling cut through the night once and woke her in a cold sweat.

After a week they were driving through her husband’s vast lands. They were very different from home. The trees, plants and birds all seemed similar, yet vaguely different. When she commented a driver chuckled, “Far from the capital out ‘ere, M’lady, things’re still wild, as they say, including some of the folk.”

“Go on,” the other hit the man’s shoulder, “Don’t frighten ‘er. Yer perfectly safe, M’lady. The Lord wouldn’t allow otherwise.” The forest gave way to villages and fields. Peasants tended to the land. They passed through a small town before continuing up to the estate. Some gave suspicious glances as they passed, freely showing their distrust of outsiders.

Perched upon a hill an ancient keep loomed over the land, standing watch. The stone had a permanence, like a mountain, more than anything a human hand made or devised by a human mind should. Untold number of souls dwelled on this land and their secrets were hidden in the stones and earth. The carriage arrived at the front gates and pulled in front of the front entrance. The woman swallowed nervously. The door opened, “Welcome to your new home, M’lady,” the kinder driver gave his hand and helped her down.

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I am seeking a long-term partner to write a story that I imagine will be a romance but also contain classic horror elements inspired by the Gothic genre and others. I want to be clear that rape and other forms of violence will not be inflicted on your character. For any darker elements we will discuss first and get clear consent for both of us.

I borrowed inspiration for this from things like Darkest Dungeon, Bluebeard’s Bride, Beauty and the Beast, Dracula, Victorian/Regency Romance, and Crimson Peak. Also, I’m uncertain if it should be a manor house or a castle for the setting, so let me know if you have a preference, both could be present but one should be the hub of the story. I’ve left the setting fairly generic, but it could really be anywhere and I’m happy to discuss where it should be more specifically if desired. The story should have fantastical elements but to what extent we’d have to decide.

My main character will be the master of the house, but I suggested a GM role because I’m comfortable taking on more responsibility for the other NPC characters that the new bride meets at the estate. I’d be very happy to share ownership of them though.

I’d love for impregnation/pregnancy to have a prominent role here in the story. I had one idea that the new wife essentially helps heal the fiefdom and helps purge the darkness from it by helping to restore the house. Or perhaps she/they learn how to manipulate it to their own ends.

Please let me know what your thoughts are on the female character and her husband and the sort of story you’d like to write about. Also please share your kinks and limits.

I have a DPP Profile you can read and other prompts for more of a sense of my writing style and interests. Below is a short list of kinks, not all are required, of course.

Kinks: Large Breasts, Breast Growth, Temptation/Teasing, Impregnation, Pregnancy, Lactation, Gentle MDom, Gentle FDom, Romance/Affection, Sizeplay, Size Differences, Large Cocks, Dirty Talk, Transformation, Body Betrayal, Breast Play, Cumplay, Large Loads, Sleep Play

Limits: Gore, Toilet, Anal, Bestiality, Violence, Hard BDSM