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DW's roleplaying thread.
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2017-02-24 at 8:30 PM UTCThis is how it works, I will post short fun bits of a paragraph or more. Story that YOU get to twist how you please. Here's how it'll work: I post the story, and you guys decide what to do. The decision will be made on a vote. I'm not going to give any options but you can all say "hey yeah, fuck ongo the ogre in the ass!" and if the majority rules it, that's what I'm going with.
If there is a tie in the vote I'll simply go with the first option posted OR the first option that got to the tie. Sometimes I will have different protagonists. The protagonist of that certain piece is who you will be able to control. Sound bueno? Let's begin.
Protagonist: Asspick
In a dark corner somewhere in the land of Rantam sat a dark little cage with a single, dark man. Had he lived in dimension C-137 on the planet Sol-3, he would've been referred to as 'African' or perhaps 'Jesus Christ he's fucking Black.' Asspick was black to his very bone, save for his hands. It was a rarity in Rantam, which sat on a planet inhabited by men no darker than an egg white.
Being the only such 'black man' on a planet of egg yolks, he was naturally demonized. The Rantamites were a superstitious people, believing in traditions such as the carrying of a phallic sheathe at all times (as it was believed to increase girth, though really, they were simply a race of swollen-penis'd people) or the belief that burning trees could make their penis grow longer.
In fact, almost everything they did related to the phallus in some way, and Asspick, being a black man, had quite possibly the largest penis out of any of them. When this was discovered, their tolerance for poor Asspick grew thin, placing him in front of a local tribune who was to decide the fate of this nigger.
"Kill 'im!" A townswoman shouted.
"Lock 'is penis up in a collar!" Said the voice of a small boy.
"Lob it off!" Some growling call came.
In the end, it was decided that Asspick would be locked up, and later, his penis thrown in a collar. The shackle circled around his penis, piercing clean through it with a pin, a fact which made it difficult to urinate, leaving Asspick with dark and shiny piss-soaked legs. The cage itself was a regulation ten by ten cage. It'd be reasonable enough, if his dick wasn't chained to the floor. With an erection he could just barely manage to stick his hands out of the cage and into the surrounding dungeon.
One morning, as the mist and rain seeped in through the slitted grates of a nearby window, Asspick muttered to himself. "Today," he said. "Today I'm going to escape.
He watched through yellow eyes as the two guards circled around his cage, each covered head to toe in plated armor, a dagger and rape whistle hanging at their side. On the wall and through the breeze dangled the set of keys which would set him free. In his ass, a small pick made of chicken bone. After all, they didn't call him Asspick for nothing. -
2017-02-24 at 8:41 PM UTCHave the guards discover the chicken bone and become so impressed with the craftsmanship that they assist in Asspick's escape and the three of them seclude themselves and build a secret ship that will travel to a new planet where Asspick won't be treated poorly.
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2017-02-24 at 8:43 PM UTCAsspick is an expert marksman and flicks his ass pick into a guard's eyehole and enrages them. The other guard rushes into the cell to beat him.The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-02-24 at 8:47 PM UTC
Originally posted by mmQ Have the guards discover the chicken bone and become so impressed with the craftsmanship that they assist in Asspick's escape and the three of them seclude themselves and build a secret ship that will travel to a new planet where Asspick won't be treated poorly.
You can only control Asspick. -
2017-02-24 at 8:50 PM UTC
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2017-02-24 at 9:03 PM UTCAsspick attempts to flick his asspick into a guard's eyehole.
(this should accomplish the same thing, but with 2 guards if he fails) -
2017-02-24 at 9:49 PM UTCAsspick waited, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as the sun settled behind the mountains which surrounded this little prison of his. It was only advantage. The guards jangled noisily as they walked, their armor and rape whistles clanging against each other. Only by this din was Asspick able to tell when one of them stopped their patrol to nap on the chair in the corner.
'It's funny,' he thought. 'All this trouble for one little black man.'
When night came, Asspick blended in to it. He squatted, clenching his rectal muscles until the small pick in his ass squeezed out, clinking onto the hard stone floor of his cage. Before any of the guards could see, he placed the bone into his teeth and waited for the right moment, when the guard would be walking right past the door.
"Hey faggot!" He bellowed, cupping his hands in a flute around his mouth.
Out of instinct, the guard turned. Asspick spat the pick through tightly pursed lips, sending it twirling through the air at the velocity of an unladen swallow and into the dead center of the guard's eye. Quickly, Asspick ran towards the edge of his cage with the full intention of sliding that dagger across the jangly man's neck. But he'd forgotten one thing.
His penis, long as it was, could not reach the confines of the cage without an erection, and in the foolish adrenaline-fueled blood rush of at last striking a guard, he had lost his. He tripped as he pulled hard at the edge of his chain, sending a stab of pain up through his ebony dong.
Asspick screamed out in pain. The guard screamed out in pain. Another prisoner screamed out in pain, hoping to fit in, and it was not long before the sleeping guard was not screaming out in confusion. He waved his torch around in the damp air to find his comrade on the ground, clutching what appeared to be a large red grape in his eye but was in fact, a large green grape and a packet of ketchup.
From the go, the guards had anticipated the threat of a pick. Asspick was infamous for it and as good a marksman as he was, he couldn't see through the night fog which shrouded his target from him. The two guards stood in unison and laughed.
"Fucking blackie, always thinkin' he can outsmart us, ey?"
"I say we give him what's to!"
"Ey?"
"I said we give him what's to."
"What is two?"
"I-" the guard stuttered, "I mean lets rape him is what's to, aye?"
"Aye," the other agreed, reaching for the ring of keys which hung on the wall.
Asspick, having regained sensation in his penis, backed up as far into the opposite corner as he could as the heavy click of an undone lock rang through the room. -
2017-02-24 at 9:58 PM UTCBrando "Asspick" Kevorkian musters up all his remaining energy, and invokes the spirits of his ancestors to lend him strength, and bless his desperate, last ditch plan of attack.
He turns around, bends over and grabs his ankles, aiming his bullseye at the cell door, and strains, attempting to use his formidable rectal dexterity and strength to create a new pick out of compacted faecal matter, and shoot it like a cannonball at the guards.
Asspick yells out IMMA CHARGING MAH LAZOR. -
2017-02-25 at 2:53 AM UTCThe door swung open and the guard shuffled forward, unzipping his pants.
"You're gonna be a good little black boy now, aren't you?"
"Oh he'd better, else it's the stick for him, innit now?" Replied the other, running a baton against the metal cage.
Asspick closed his eyes and opened his heart. There was only one way to get out of this, and that was by calling upon the power of the gods. Sphinctora, the goddess of all which is taut and moist. It was only she who could help him.
In Rantam, there were many gods. Hundreds, thousands. Nobody really kept count. Most people pledged their allegiance to only one or two, priding themselves in the power of that particular god and telling and re-telling their epics to all who would listen. Devotion was the key. By devotion and only devotion could one tap into the piety which granted meager men with the power of the gods, and Asspick was a very pious man.
In one sweeping hop he jumped down onto his back. His hands clutched onto his ankles, straining to hold his legs as far back as they could go, and his ass cheeks as far wide as they could stretch.
The guards could smell it from here. They cried out in fear.
"IMMA CHARGIN MAH LAZOR!" Asspick roared. His voice reverberated across the room and into his large intestine. He channeled the power of the entirety of his body, of his fecal matter. Of the gods themselves. The muscles in his stomach tore and shredded. The guards stumbled backwards. And in a surprisingly quiet display of power, Asspick fired.
At seven inches long with a point that'd put a rhino to shame, the pick cut through the air with a sound not unlike the rush of blood. Composed entirely of fecal matter, this monstrosity of a shit pulled open a hole the size of a fist, right through a guard's chest. It slashed clean through, frazzling into a spray of brown shards. The first guard was dead on impact, but the second had been thrown into a corner, his still erect penis pinned to the wall by one of Asspick's shards.
"Please! Spare me!" The guard wailed. "I was just doing my job was all!"
Asspick rifled through the pockets of the guard, pulling out the key which would unlock his phallic piercing. It slid out with a wet *thhcck* as he walked out of what had been his hell for the first time in years. The guard moaned in pain.
"Please, I'm begging you."
Down the hallway, Asspick could hear the chatter of women.
'Women?' He thought, his penis lifting to a chub. 'I haven't seen one of those in years.'
Somewhere in the dark, a liserd watched on with great interest.
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2017-02-25 at 3:23 AM UTC>posts actual content
>only two people respond
:-( -
2017-02-25 at 3:31 AM UTC
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2017-02-25 at 3:56 AM UTCTop laugh. This thread is amazing. Thank you discount whore.
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2017-02-25 at 3:57 AM UTCI'm fucking dying after the last one.
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2017-02-25 at 3:57 AM UTC
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2017-02-25 at 5:04 AM UTC
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2017-02-25 at 5:09 AM UTC
Originally posted by Discount Whore The door swung open and the guard shuffled forward, unzipping his pants.
"You're gonna be a good little black boy now, aren't you?"
"Oh he'd better, else it's the stick for him, innit now?" Replied the other, running a baton against the metal cage.
Asspick closed his eyes and opened his heart. There was only one way to get out of this, and that was by calling upon the power of the gods. Sphinctora, the goddess of all which is taut and moist. It was only she who could help him.
In Rantam, there were many gods. Hundreds, thousands. Nobody really kept count. Most people pledged their allegiance to only one or two, priding themselves in the power of that particular god and telling and re-telling their epics to all who would listen. Devotion was the key. By devotion and only devotion could one tap into the piety which granted meager men with the power of the gods, and Asspick was a very pious man.
In one sweeping hop he jumped down onto his back. His hands clutched onto his ankles, straining to hold his legs as far back as they could go, and his ass cheeks as far wide as they could stretch.
The guards could smell it from here. They cried out in fear.
"IMMA CHARGIN MAH LAZOR!" Asspick roared. His voice reverberated across the room and into his large intestine. He channeled the power of the entirety of his body, of his fecal matter. Of the gods themselves. The muscles in his stomach tore and shredded. The guards stumbled backwards. And in a surprisingly quiet display of power, Asspick fired.
At seven inches long with a point that'd put a rhino to shame, the pick cut through the air with a sound not unlike the rush of blood. Composed entirely of fecal matter, this monstrosity of a shit pulled open a hole the size of a fist, right through a guard's chest. It slashed clean through, frazzling into a spray of brown shards. The first guard was dead on impact, but the second had been thrown into a corner, his still erect penis pinned to the wall by one of Asspick's shards.
"Please! Spare me!" The guard wailed. "I was just doing my job was all!"
Asspick rifled through the pockets of the guard, pulling out the key which would unlock his phallic piercing. It slid out with a wet *thhcck* as he walked out of what had been his hell for the first time in years. The guard moaned in pain.
"Please, I'm begging you."
Down the hallway, Asspick could hear the chatter of women.
'Women?' He thought, his penis lifting to a chub. 'I haven't seen one of those in years.'
Somewhere in the dark, a liserd watched on with great interest.
(Is the liserd a playable character?)
Asspick takes the clothes and equipment off the second guard, and knocks him unconscious with a baton. He puts the clothes on, but leaves his gigantic koyaaniscocksy hanging out of the fly. He moves onwards, to engage the women, whipping his cock like a windmill with his hands. His opening line would be "hello, ladies". -
2017-02-25 at 5:55 AM UTCasspick locks the guards in his cell, throws a blanket over them and goes looking for white women and fried chicken
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2017-02-25 at 9:10 AM UTCwait, rape the guard first
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2017-02-25 at 12:38 PM UTCThat last one was hilarious.
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2017-02-27 at 6 AM UTCIn the aftermath of the attack the room smelt of shit. Not just any shit either. Compacted shit missiles, as it turned out, were pretty rank.
Patting on his penis as if to say 'there there,' Asspick kneeled down to grab the baton of the fallen prison guard. He grinned an orange smile. It was his turn now to run it along the cage. It was his turn now to give 'im the stick. And it was his turn now to rape.
The throw to the wall had given the surviving guard a concussion, his penis still nailed red to the concrete like a virgin on his wedding night. The sight only made Asspick's heart beat with elation. He stroked his cock, faster and faster as he walked on the cold floor towards the corner.
"No! By the gods, please!" The man said, sobbing now. "It was all Grinchov's idea, I'm telling you!"
Asspick stared on with intent.
"He's the one who wanted to do all the prodding and err..."
"And what now?" Asspick asked. His voice was raspy for lack of practice.
"Alright, I'll confess. The raping. That's what I mean," he explained. "But everybody makes mistakes. I'm sure you've got your faults too. And as the good lord says, do not unto-"
The baton crashed into his skull with a wet thud. Asspick giggled. It was the last straw in his budding erection, and at ten inches long with the width of a soup can, there wasn't much that could stand in his way.
"That felt good," he admitted, pulling out of the guard's hairy anus.
It was then that Asspick was struck with the idea that he might need a little more than his penis to keep him safe. Out there in the real world at least. When he was still in the public prison unit he'd been able to get by, as having the largest dong tends to do in Rantam. But in the real world he was going to need a bit more.
He slid a pair of iron plated trousers from the guard's legs, cutting a hole in the center to fit his fat phallus. The chains which bound his ankles and wrists (occasionally used to hook him up to various devices of torture) wouldn't come off with any key in the room, but with a pair of leather slips the ones on his ankles could just barely be covered.
And of course, he couldn't leave the knife. It was a beautiful thing. Probably a graduation gift or some such. Ornate patterns of a seven donged dragon lined the sheathe. Asspick stuck it up his bum for safe keeping.
The rest of the armor wouldn't fit around this massive buck of a man, though he did manage to fit the rape whistle around his neck.
Moving on, Asspick began his silent stalk down the hall and towards the room which appeared by ear to be full of women. He could feel his dong flap from thigh to thigh, though quiet as he tried to be, it still made a smack. Had the women been quieter—had they been men—he'd have most certainly been found.
As he neared the door to the room of women he couldn't help but think thoughts such as, 'What if they're fat?" And, 'What if they've got knives?'
Pushing away the idea, he burst into the room in a jump. His cock spun its its natural windmill, propelling him forward as he shouted, "Hello ladies!"
Unfortunately for Asspick and his penis, there were none to be found.
Out before him lay a banquet. Fried chicken, watermelon, collard greens. 'And is that purple drank I see?' Asspick wondered. Along the walls of the room hung the cages of a dozen very quiet, very scared parrots. 'They must be the women, damnit! But the food..." His mouth watered. Asspick hadn't had a proper meal since being imprisoned, relegated to sawdust bread and the occasional rat when he could catch it.
The smell of chicken wafted heavy up his mouth and watered his nose. It was tempting.
On the opposite side of the room stood a door. Peeking outside, Asspick could see a small village. Children ran about playing slingshot paddywhack, mothers squatted on their looms. 'Why is the prison here?'
Asspick scratched at his afro and pondered the situation.
