Hello there! Looking for a good ol'-fashioned mobster-themed roleplay with this one, and of course, I had to bring in some fantasy too, because my love for tieflings is second to none.

Feel free to jump right in with the story with your own character, and continue where I left off if this prompt is something you're interested in!

I'm a descriptive and detailed writing partner looking for the same. I usually write 3-4 paragraphs per reply and can go over that if the scene requires it, and I'm hoping to find someone to match that. I prefer writing in 3rd Person, and prefer to keep my roleplaying on Reddit via private messages.

. . .

1952, Hell’s Handbasket. 10:35 PM.

Beneath the club’s spotlight, the Devil’s Songbird cut a striking figure on stage.

Her wine-purple dress had no straps to speak off, and the shimmering fabric hugged her voluptuous figure like a second skin, leaving just enough to tickle the imagination of what might be underneath. She had the traditional devilish look to her: bright ruby-red skin, a whip-thin tail, and twin bony protrusions in a darker shade of red sprouting from the sides of her head, curling towards her cheeks like a ram’s horns. Her hair was beautifully curled and voluminous, falling down her back and spilling over her bare shoulders like the spillage from an inkwell. In the hush of her entrance, you could hear the click of her heel against the floor as she approached the microphone set out for her; and no sooner had her fingers brushed the cool metal, the band began to play one of the many songs she had chosen to sing for the evening.

Her voice carried through the room, powerful and husky. Motes of light descended from the lavish crystal chandeliers overhead, and began to dance around the tiefling as if drawn in by her song.

For Roseis—or Rosie, as a select few knew her as—this was the usual Friday night.

She’d been singing like this at the Handbasket for a little over a year now. Her stage name afforded her a measure of mystery and fame in underground clubs such as this—men came around the first time simply because they were curious, and they kept coming back because they liked what they saw, and Rosie was a damn good performer.

To say Rosie was grateful for her new job was an understatement. If not for the Handbasket, she’d likely still be living in her tiny little shoe-box of an apartment, being paid a pittance to scrub floors and wash clothes every week. She’d given herself migraines back then, worrying whether or not she could make rent while still having enough to eat.

She wouldn’t have had any of this without her benefactor—the man that had discovered her, and to whom she had given her heart and body to.

He was out there in the crowd tonight, as always, watching her.

It gave her a rush just thinking about him, a familiar urge and warmth gathering at the crux of her legs.

Rosie had overheard wild speculation out of the mouths of a few of the club’s customers: that she was the mistress of one of the rich and powerful men that ran the club behind the scenes. This was brought on by the fact that anyone that caused trouble for the young singer would find themselves dealt with in a terrifyingly efficient fashion. The rumors were closer to the truth than they thought.

Rosie’s relationship with her man was secret for a good many reason, but she didn’t care about the details. She loved him, and he loved her; that was all that mattered.

As Rosie continued to sing, her hips and curves swaying in sultry motions, the corners of her mouth curled up towards her golden eyes, her plump lips painted purple curving into the kind of smile that would have drawn in any man, any man at all.

But she only had eyes for one man in particular.

She sang five songs over the course of her performance, each one more masterful than the last. After the lasting applause, and ignoring the calls for yet another encore, Rosie slipped past the curtains into backstage. She hadn’t even the time to catch her breath before footsteps, and movement out of the corner of her eye, drew her attention to the man standing there, waiting for her.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she rushed over, “Darlin’! How’d you like the show?”

. . .

Kinks: Romance, (Vague) Period Accuracy, Affectionate Partners, Power Dynamics, Age Gaps (Younger Women/Older Men), Monsters, Big Cocks, Size Differences, Fantasy Raceplay, Clothed Sex, Rough Sex, Name Calling, Spanking, Light Bondage, Body Worship, Cumplay, Impreg, Pregnant Sex, Lactation

Limits: Gore, Snuff, Piss, Scat, Extreme Violence, Blood, Humiliation and Degradation