It had been, arguably, one if the worst years of your life, and it was barely a quarter begun.

It had all started with the death of your father. Healthy and happy, the two of you had shared a life together, with him being the doting supportive parent that made your dreams a reality.

When you had wanted to move to the big city he had moved with, buying a small home on the outskirts. Not close enough to make you feel like he was smothering you, but near enough that daily visits and nights over were never out of the question. Despite you owning your own apartment, you found yourself spending more and more time at his place. It was only natural you supposed, it had always been just the two of you since before you could remember.

His passing had hit you hard. Harder than you would have hoped and you soon found your life falling into disarray. Late notices on bills, over due rent payments. It's not that you weren't employed anymore... you still had your job, at least you thought you did. It was just... so hard to pull yourself out of the bed now that he was gone.

One day you awoke to a knocking on your door, your bleary eyes barely making sense of the dim room.

The pounding came again, harder and more persistent.

You open your moth to croak out a response, telling them to go away, but find it dry and parched. You try to swallow but find only grit in your cheeks. Coughing, you struggle to work out the energy to dismiss them, but no matter how much you try, your throat fails to respond.

Can't they see your pain? Can't they understand that all you want to do is return to a place where at least your heart isn't torn asunder?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

With a breath of exasperation, you struggle out of bed, feeling your knees go weak as you put weight on them for the fist time in... how long had it been? That didn't matter. All that mattered was getting to the door and sending whoever it was away.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Stumbling through your room, you find yourself gasping for breath, as if you had been in the middle of a marathon and lean against the wall, trying to rest in your endeavor from the bedroom to the front door.

Knock. Knock. knock.

Finally, after what seems an eternity you reach the door, opening it partially to the figure of a well dressed man, his black hair streaked with gray and hanging in tight curls past his shoulders.

"Ah, good evening miss. I've come on behalf of your father. May I come inside?"

Hey there reddit.

I was hoping to find a partner for this play, where I play your sudden mysterious benefactor who steps in on behest of your late father.

So tell me, who am I? Am I a friend of your late father who steps in to make you my good girl and care for you with love and adoration? Am I perhaps someone darker? A member of the mafia who your father contracted with to see you cared for?

Or are we in the realm of fantasy? And I am a messenger from the depths of the underworld, carrying a message from the dearly departed to encourage you to move about your life as you know you should?

How do I help you find purpose in your life again? Do we work together to find your father's killer? Do you simply require the knowledge that someone is in your corner at all times and willing to help you? Do you simply want to be able to relax and breath deep knowing you will be cared for?

Kinks: Aftercare/ Affection, Anal, BDSM, Begging, Bondage/Restraints, Brat-taming, Breeding, Biting, Claiming, Cream Pies, Cuddling, Dom/Sub relations, (toys, collars, ropes, body writing, ect) Exhibitionism, Hair-pulling, Lactation, Multiple Partners, Non-Human, Oral (Giving & Receiving), Orgasm Control/Denial, Rough Sex, Teasing.... And many many more.

Limits: Scat, Watersports, Vomit

I am 18 and all participants and characters must be 18