Avery stomped his foot into the smoldering ash of the campfire. It was sunrise and the rogue was up early–as usual–ready to break camp and get back on the road.

“Casius!” He called to the barbarian, who was still sleeping in his tent. “Damn lug, always so bloody slow.”

“Hm, hm, hm,” a thin, tall wizard hummed to himself as he wandered back into the camp.

“And where the hell have you been, Ambrose?” Avery felt especially perturbed this morning.

“Looking for gripweed. There’s an old battleground nearby. It grows near corpses.”

“Well, that’s bloody morbid…did you find any?”

The wizard held up a stack of curling, gray weeds that looked like they’d been dead for years. “I’m going to make a fabulous poison with this stuff!”

Ambrose was a tad obsessed with poisons. To an obviously dangerous degree.

A rumbling yawn interrupted the rogue and wizard. “Hell, that bastard must finally be up,” Avery said while rubbing his brow.

As if on cue, the muscular, blonde dark-haired barbarian emerged from his tent. “Ah, fine morning, eh, boys?” His biceps rippled against his tunic as he stretched.

“You slept a damn long time again, Casius. I wanted to be on the road before daybreak.”

“Eh,” he shrugged at the rogue, “what’s the hurry? We’re not going anywhere in particular.”

The wizard raised his eyebrow, “We just talked about this last night. We’re going to Royal Crest, remember? To post our ad.”

The brute clapped his hands together at the realization, “The slut!”

Ambrose chuckled while Avery rolled his eyes. “Don’t say it like that. We can’t just…come out and say when we interview the applicants.”

“But I thought we were looking for a hot little thing to keep us warm while we quest?”

“Yes, of course we are Casius. It would be much more convenient than having to rely on the occasional barmaid,” Ambrose nodded. “But we have to be a bit subtle about it. So our ad is going to say that we’re looking for a female adventurer to join our quests.”

“Ah, I get it,” Casius smiled. “And then we make her our slut!”

Royal Crest was a sea-faring town. Its harbor made it a key trading outpost within the Border Kingdoms. Though the region was unstable–subject to the tribal infighting of orcs and the exploratory pushes of humans and elves–it was also rich in natural resources and especially so in the opportunities for adventurers. The relative danger of the area made it an ideal place for Casius, Ambrose, and Avery to not only look for more work, but also a companion. So it was that they posted their ad on the board outside the Frothy Mug:

Legendary heroes Casius the Careless, Ambrose of Averdell, and the dashing rogue Avery Sommer seek a new comrade to join their merry band. Work already lined up. Must be willing to dive headfirst into dangerous situations. High stamina greatly preferred. As an equal-opportunity partnership female adventurers are encouraged to apply! Please call on Avery at the Frothy Mug to arrange an interview.

OOC

Welp, this one should be pretty clear. Your character–perhaps some wide-eyed new adventurer, a cocky veteran looking for a new crew, or some princess seeking adventure–responds to the ad, thinking that she’s about to fall in with a lovely band of quest-mates. Turns out–they’re looking to turn her into their personal cocksleeve. Yay.

I'll be writing in third-person, past-tense. You do whatever POV suits you. I write at a relaxed pace and appreciate the same. I'm not looking to engage in a rapid-fire exchange or burn through this prompt in a day.

Yes, please: absurdly sexual situations, good girls and very bad girls, imaginative domination/submission, impact play (spanking, slapping, etc.), fingering, degradation/humiliation, name-calling, very sloppy facefucking, dubcon/blackmail, cunnilingus, intense/rough sex, gagging/choking, manipulation/corruption, outercourse, overwhelming urges, cumplay, facials, sexy outfits/partially-clothed sex/torn clothing/costumes and a sense of humor.

No: underage characters, incest, animals, scat/watersports, people with no chill.

If you're reading this sentence, it means this prompt is mighty open, so you should really probably send me a message and stop making such a big deal about it, ya know?