Anyone interested in a Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay? - Rape Board

Underwise · 10-13-2009, 02:04 AM

As the title says, I'm wondering if anyone would be interested in doing a rape roleplay sometime in a post-apocalyptic future. This could either be a one on one roleplay or a group pending on if anyone here is interested and I think it could be a fun one to do. If anyone is interested, either post here or pm me.

gaggirl · 10-13-2009, 02:38 AM

yeah have seen a few of those movies do you mean like the stand and that kind of thing??

Underwise · 10-13-2009, 03:04 AM

Yeah, pretty much, although what I like about desolate future type scenes is that you have a very open range of things you can do. Plus, a lawless wasteland does seem like a very easy place to get raped. But basically, if you or anyone else is interested, then we could talk about specific details or things you would want in it.

11-17-2009, 06:10 AM

I'll join, I can be either Male or Female, whichever one you want.

rodsamson42 · 11-17-2009, 04:18 PM

I want in. This sounds like it could lead to some interesting scenarios.

Corvid · 12-24-2009, 12:16 AM

I have an idea for setting the scene, if there's interest.

Corvid · 01-05-2010, 03:48 AM

It's one of the few stretches of the Interstate Highway system left that's largely intact. Swaying like a fan dancer's hips through miles of barren hills and dust, broken rocks and desert, it seems to some to offer a way out, a way to a better life.

Most people, by now, know better. But not everyone.

The station wagon is in good shape. It would have to be, to have made it this far. The occupants, then, have gas, and maybe food, and perhaps, more. What they don't have is the foresight to armor the car; the survivor's instinct, to move in a zig-zag through the gaze of watchful, hateful eyes.

As the road undulates, the rocks along the road open up. Here there is the wreckage of a thousand underprepared cars. Some of the car-corpses are very old, some... Are the station wagon's occupants paying attention?... Have not met their deaths so long ago at all. Look close, and you might see where pieces of sheet metal- scavenged wood- broken glass- have been arranged into crude buildings, some little more than lean-tos, some far more ornate.

The junkyard has countless vantage points of the road. And like all junkyards, it has its dogs.

The first report seems to echo off the sky itself. The car's front right tire detonates, the hubcap screaming as it cuts into the blacktop. The driver tries to keep the vehicle moving down the road as it swerves back and forth on its hamstrung limb, the last halfway decent idea the vehicle's owner has had since starting the trip, and several ideas too short for the unforgiving wasteland.

Another explosion in the hot, dry air, and the rear tire on the same side tears itself apart. As the station wagon spins about, it is all the driver can do to keep the unwieldy vehicle from tipping over. It rocks up on the right, groaning as it skids several more feet, and comes to a stop, sinking onto its mutilated right side in defeat.

All, for the moment, is still. You can feel the eyes on the prey. They've been waiting weeks for it to come; they can wait minutes, hours, days for someone to make a move.

The door opens, and she slides out, as wrong for the setting as the most improbable beer ad of decades long gone. That fair skin, hardly touched by the sun, but for the sprinkle of freckles. Straight, carrot-red hair down to her waist. The t-shirt, tied up high on her rib cage against the heat, beads of sweat on her generous breasts, rolling down her tight abdomen. Long legs stetching out under cut-off jeans.

The air barks; the spark of a riccochet crackles on the ground next to her boot. The driver shrieks in terror.

"Please!" She yells in the direction of the junkyard. "I'm unarmed! Don't hurt me!" The faintest hit of an accent- Dublin, or Brisbane? Hard to tell at such a distance. Somewhere where this unforgiving stretch of road is unknown, clearly. Somewhere from which someone could come, naively, hoping for things to get better, after the wars and the riots and the starvation...

Where there was hatred and anticipation in the air before, you can now sense hunger. This is worse. Where the hatred could kill, this hunger will revel in cruelty.

The woman flinches as a new sound roars in the air, but this is not a sniper's bullet. This is an engine. Her attackers prepare to make an entrance...

Corvid · 01-07-2010, 03:24 AM

With the thread author's indulgence, I think this can be open to any number of "junkyarders", and there could certainly be at least one more victim cowering in the station wagon as well. If people prefer to shift into first-person perspective, that would be fine. But I think we need some characterization from a victim to progress. Anyone wishes to express desires or suggestions, feel free to post or message.

10-13-2009, 02:04 AM	#1
Underwise Member Join Date: Sep 2008 Posts: 94 Reputation: 757	Anyone interested in a Post-Apocalyptic Roleplay? As the title says, I'm wondering if anyone would be interested in doing a rape roleplay sometime in a post-apocalyptic future. This could either be a one on one roleplay or a group pending on if anyone here is interested and I think it could be a fun one to do. If anyone is interested, either post here or pm me. __________________ I'm going to hell when I die.

10-13-2009, 03:04 AM	#3
Underwise Member Join Date: Sep 2008 Posts: 94 Reputation: 757	Yeah, pretty much, although what I like about desolate future type scenes is that you have a very open range of things you can do. Plus, a lawless wasteland does seem like a very easy place to get raped. But basically, if you or anyone else is interested, then we could talk about specific details or things you would want in it. __________________ I'm going to hell when I die.

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10-13-2009, 02:38 AM	#2
gaggirl * yawn * Join Date: Nov 2006 Location: Australia Posts: 3,058 Reputation: 40178	yeah have seen a few of those movies do you mean like the stand and that kind of thing??

11-17-2009, 06:10 AM	#4
TheWriter Guest Posts: n/a	I'll join, I can be either Male or Female, whichever one you want.

11-17-2009, 04:18 PM	#5
rodsamson42 Member Join Date: Oct 2009 Posts: 39 Reputation: 368	I want in. This sounds like it could lead to some interesting scenarios.

12-24-2009, 12:16 AM	#6
Corvid Senior Member Join Date: Dec 2009 Location: West Coast, USA Posts: 162 Reputation: 84	I have an idea for setting the scene, if there's interest.

01-05-2010, 03:48 AM	#7
Corvid Senior Member Join Date: Dec 2009 Location: West Coast, USA Posts: 162 Reputation: 84	It's one of the few stretches of the Interstate Highway system left that's largely intact. Swaying like a fan dancer's hips through miles of barren hills and dust, broken rocks and desert, it seems to some to offer a way out, a way to a better life. Most people, by now, know better. But not everyone. The station wagon is in good shape. It would have to be, to have made it this far. The occupants, then, have gas, and maybe food, and perhaps, more. What they don't have is the foresight to armor the car; the survivor's instinct, to move in a zig-zag through the gaze of watchful, hateful eyes. As the road undulates, the rocks along the road open up. Here there is the wreckage of a thousand underprepared cars. Some of the car-corpses are very old, some... Are the station wagon's occupants paying attention?... Have not met their deaths so long ago at all. Look close, and you might see where pieces of sheet metal- scavenged wood- broken glass- have been arranged into crude buildings, some little more than lean-tos, some far more ornate. The junkyard has countless vantage points of the road. And like all junkyards, it has its dogs. The first report seems to echo off the sky itself. The car's front right tire detonates, the hubcap screaming as it cuts into the blacktop. The driver tries to keep the vehicle moving down the road as it swerves back and forth on its hamstrung limb, the last halfway decent idea the vehicle's owner has had since starting the trip, and several ideas too short for the unforgiving wasteland. Another explosion in the hot, dry air, and the rear tire on the same side tears itself apart. As the station wagon spins about, it is all the driver can do to keep the unwieldy vehicle from tipping over. It rocks up on the right, groaning as it skids several more feet, and comes to a stop, sinking onto its mutilated right side in defeat. All, for the moment, is still. You can feel the eyes on the prey. They've been waiting weeks for it to come; they can wait minutes, hours, days for someone to make a move. The door opens, and she slides out, as wrong for the setting as the most improbable beer ad of decades long gone. That fair skin, hardly touched by the sun, but for the sprinkle of freckles. Straight, carrot-red hair down to her waist. The t-shirt, tied up high on her rib cage against the heat, beads of sweat on her generous breasts, rolling down her tight abdomen. Long legs stetching out under cut-off jeans. The air barks; the spark of a riccochet crackles on the ground next to her boot. The driver shrieks in terror. "Please!" She yells in the direction of the junkyard. "I'm unarmed! Don't hurt me!" The faintest hit of an accent- Dublin, or Brisbane? Hard to tell at such a distance. Somewhere where this unforgiving stretch of road is unknown, clearly. Somewhere from which someone could come, naively, hoping for things to get better, after the wars and the riots and the starvation... Where there was hatred and anticipation in the air before, you can now sense hunger. This is worse. Where the hatred could kill, this hunger will revel in cruelty. The woman flinches as a new sound roars in the air, but this is not a sniper's bullet. This is an engine. Her attackers prepare to make an entrance...

01-07-2010, 03:24 AM	#8
Corvid Senior Member Join Date: Dec 2009 Location: West Coast, USA Posts: 162 Reputation: 84	With the thread author's indulgence, I think this can be open to any number of "junkyarders", and there could certainly be at least one more victim cowering in the station wagon as well. If people prefer to shift into first-person perspective, that would be fine. But I think we need some characterization from a victim to progress. Anyone wishes to express desires or suggestions, feel free to post or message.