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duplicitymemes2019-09-12 04:47 pm
duplicitymods) wrote in duplicitymemes2019-09-12 04:47 pm
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TDM #8
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It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. Yet, solace is found in the lies we tell each other, comforted by the peace of knowing that we're not alone in our depravity, and once on this path, sin itself becomes the lesser of two evils masked in a cloud of normalcy. This is how Duplicity has functioned since the beginning. The divide of power and social standing is overt in that Dominants influence the decisions made both publicly and privately while Submissives cater to the rules presented to them. It is the way of Duplicity to assign random designations at birth with no leeway in altering what has been given. Climate in the Up is far stricter than that of the Down; violating outlined personas for a Dominant or Submissive while in full view of others is punished by degree of infraction. In the Down, many tend to turn a blind eye to these sorts of offenses. To counteract the discovery of the Deceit Gene – a natural "negative" response to all stimuli – the L.I.E.S. program was founded. The program had been designed to introduce new subjects to the current environment and test for the Deceit Gene through immersion in Duplicity's standing society. Sexual impulses and encounters increase the chances of detecting the gene within these individuals. Participants are typically released from L.I.E.S. after a year; however, results have remained unsatisfactory and testing still continues. ... and you’re here! Finally! Welcome to Duplicity. After choosing a door and stepping through to the other side, the first thing that greets you are the enthusiastic faces of people in medical scrubs and pristine lab coats. Their enthusiasm translates to eagerness as they strip you of your clothes to perform a thorough examination—you will be healed, bathed, and given a paper gown to wear until your items can be processed and delivered to your residence later in the evening. You are also given a device that accesses the network as well as the time and location of orientation. If you enter Duplicity into the Up, congratulations! You’re a Dominant, which means you are immediately picked up by a limo after processing and taken to your highrise. Here, it is two Dominants per floor with separate apartments. If you enter Duplicity into the Down, congratulations! You’re a Submissive, which means you are directed towards public transportation with the address of the motel you’ll be living in. Here, it is two Submissives per room with a shared common space for all rooms. Enjoy your free time until orientation! Participation is mandatory by all new and old arrivals. The hellish summer heat is finally starting to subside, and the cool breeze suggests autumn is approaching. |
 After stepping through the door and participating in orientation, LIERS are assembled together in the Up for a tour of Duplicity in its entirety. Seats are in pairs and randomly assigned to Dominants and Submissives alike. Traveling from Fiddler's Square, the train journeys through various parts of the Up, showcasing society and examples of lifestyle. Along the way, frequent stops are made; a variety of passengers can be seen exiting and entering the doors. A Dominant with a kneeling Submissive takes a seat near the front of the train at one stop. A small group of Submissives board and sit closer to the LIERS at another, all seemingly content in their roles. As the tour continues through the Up, the train passes close to the Market and White Wall Bridge and zips by North Park before heading into the Down and bypassing Red Wall Bridge and South Park. The train makes a "final" stop at Riddler's Square, where inhabitants of the Down are instructed to return to their temporary housing. Those who live in the Up are permitted to stay on the train and revisit the same locations while returning. |
 The weather’s getting cooler, and people have begun transitioning from summer clothing to the sweaters and jackets of early fall. With jackets come pockets, and with pockets come a bizarre uptick in robberies. Then again, perhaps the correlation is flawed. In the Down, getting robbed is a constant threat. Gangs of street toughs look for lone or inattentive people who look like they’ve got valuables on hand. Uncontracted Submissives are particularly easy to rob, since authorities have little time to bother with a lowly Submissive without a Dominant to advocate for them. One particularly nasty gang of young adult men, the Bulldogs, hangs out near the train, looking to ambush unwary Submissives fresh out of Orientation. They are prone to violent muggings and will simply beat up their target and leave them in a gutter when they’re finished robbing them. In the Up, the streets are nominally safer, but there have been reports of a group of college-aged Submissive women taking advantage of their designation to attack travelers. They, too, stand near the train and the orientation center, looking to seduce passersby into an alley where a group of them can beat and mug their victims, usually Dominants looking to capitalize on their pretty appearances. But you’re truthfully at risk anywhere in the city. The new arrivals are easy targets, and any brazen thief might get the idea to make some quick cash. The authorities are spread too thin to help, but perhaps LIErs can look out for one another? Or they might just get in on the thievery. Everyone’s out for themselves, after all. |
( CW: potential dubcon, drugs, BDSM/sexual torture, prostitution, public use ) Surrounding a large building near the orientation center in the Up, banners and fliers announcing the beginning of the inaugural Duplicity High Tech Sexpo, a trade show for businesses and manufacturers of adult novelties. Since this is the expo’s first year, admission is free and many excited volunteers are handing out vouchers all over the city. These vouchers can be exchanged for goods and services within the expo, but have no monetary value outside of it. Even if you refuse them, you’ll likely find two or three of them tucked into your bag or pocket. Inside the expo hall, there are dozens of booths pitching a variety of entertainments. Many offer interactive demonstrations, showing off their tech for the crowds of interested onlookers. Competition is fierce, and booths try to attract attention and customers through any means necessary. There are private rooms all around the expo for potential customers to try out the products. Booths will also happily accept volunteers for demos, or try to recruit them by bribing them with cash or free samples. There’s a nasty rumor going around that some are recruiting volunteers via more illicit means, like drugging and dressing them up, but surely that’s an exaggeration… Some of the smaller booths sell more traditional toys and accessories: leashes and collars, specialty lubes and massage oils, fetish gear, strap-ons, dildos and vibrators in myriad shapes and sizes, and other basic items. Others advertise apps for the devices, the most notable of which is HUGGR (which LIErs may recognize as a poorly rebuilt sex-themed version of a certain other app.) The closer you get to the big-ticket sponsor booths, the more elaborate and fantastic the products become. One of the most eye-catching demos is for the Climax VR Headset. You and a partner both wear a VR headset, which displays a collaborative virtual scenario. Both partners can alter the setting and surroundings however they like, and any sexual activity conducted in VR transmits real sensations to their bodies. You can come together without ever physically touching. Symphony Hydraulics have a large, loud booth where crowds gather to watch perhaps the most outrageous demo: a variety of fucking machines. Volunteers get stripped, strapped in, and turned on, brought to screaming orgasms in front of the whole crowd. There is a fifteen minute break between demos on each machine, as some poor intern hurriedly washes and sanitizes them between uses. In the interim, they offer smaller, portable versions for sale or rent at the expo. (Some may note that a few of the Symphony Hydraulics staff members look a bit familiar.) Does all this high-tech equipment have you overwhelmed? Wish you could go back to a simpler time? Sir Robert’f Bedroome Provifionf (sic) is helmed by historical reenactor Robert Plum, who has also created his own line of medieval torture device-themed sex toys. Need a chastity belt to keep your Submissive all to yourself? A rack with an attached spreader-bar? An iron maiden with soft vibrating silicone ticklers inside? All the stocks and whips and chains you could ever need? Sir Robert has you covered. Of course, everything on display is harmlessly altered for sexual novelty purposes, but one might also ask to see Sir Robert’s “special” merchandise in the back. Perhaps the most unassuming booth at the expo belongs to Grandma Hattie’s Snacks and Sweets. Grandma Hattie, a kindly old Submissive, has partnered with a tech company to produce what appear to be completely normal vending machines, stocked full of her tasty homemade bread, snack cakes, and other baked goods. Vouchers are good for a free sample of any treat from a vending machine. They taste amazing and have no apparent odd effects-- until 10 minutes after consumption, when you suddenly gain an insatiable craving for a random kink. Your craving will dominate your thoughts for three hours, or until it is appeased. |
 (CW: potential dubcon, objectification) By far the largest and shiniest booth comes from expo sponsors Sexy Metal Incorporated, who have set up a display of their incredible high-tech sexbots. These life-sized dolls are made of extremely realistic material that feels like warm human skin, and come with state-of-the-art mechanics that give them lifelike movement. Engineers show off how the bots can be plugged into a computer and programmed to act any way the buyer likes. They come in a wide variety of customizable appearances and eerily, some of the bots on display look exactly like people you may know. Booth staff encourage customers to buy these dolls, or to rent them and give them a try onstage in front of the fascinated crowds. If that’s not kinky enough, one of the engineers has purchased a VR headset from another booth, and programmed it to interface with the bot’s controls. Care to slip inside the silicone skin of another person? |
Please read carefully. On each Test Drive Meme, there will be a section noting character roles; these will vary each TDM. On an IC level, characters will still have gone through the doors but assignments OOCly are still randomized. When applying, there is a section of the application that denotes whether the character chooses "left" or "right". When participating on the TDM, there will be a third option. Players may link either a top level or a thread (five or more comments from their character) from the TDM and title the link as "Door Pass". This means that the player is choosing to take the designation that they were randomly assigned on the TDM, rather than taking the designation of a door. If the player decides to select a door rather than use the pass, then they are trying their luck; they may get the same designation they had on the TDM or the opposite. Once the application is submitted, players can't change their choice. To assign roles to characters for this TDM, use the following guide: In celebration of our one year, pick whichever role you want for your character! » A Pocket Full of Pennies: Feel free to come up with any free-roving gangs or petty criminals you like for your characters to tangle with. » New Flesh Like A Glove: Characters can spend money on items at the expo, or may exchange vouchers for what they want. Each voucher has a value of about $5 within the expo and they may be acquired by finding them, having them handed to characters/stuffed in their pockets or bags by expo volunteers, or paid them in exchange for “volunteering” at booths. Characters may indeed try before they buy, either out in the open or using one of the provided private rooms with a partner. The expo has a staff of unpaid student interns tasked with cleaning and sanitizing products if they are used but not purchased. Grandma Hattie’s snacks can inspire characters to have any kink you may desire. » Perfection of the Digital: Sexbots can resemble any player characters, including brand new arrivals/test drive characters. They can also resemble characters that yours knows from home. The engineers have no explanation for this, and the one who identifies himself as the designer will shrug and say he gets inspiration from many places. The sexbots are hot-ticket expensive merchandise, so security is tight around the booth. Characters who attempt to steal or destroy a sexbot (for instance, one who looks like themselves) will be quickly set upon by guards, who are meant to eject them from the expo. However, many of the guards will take bribes from other booths to provide them model “volunteers,” drugged into complacency. If characters want to acquire a sexbot permanently, they will have to buy it or exchange a hefty 50 vouchers for it. Please remember to mark any necessary content, and have fun!! |
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Still, better to keep it light and easy.]
It truly would.
[He drags his eyes over Hawke, gaze dark and deliberate.]
I imagine you've made plenty grateful for your presence here.
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Grateful... amused... adequately seen to. Something along those lines.
[Another nudge of shoulders, and he leans a little closer, lowering his voice.]
And you called me a flatterer?
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Subtle physical flirtation is a specialty and an art, and Dorian knows it best.]
I can only hope to be 'adequately seen to' myself someday.
[Flattery begets flattery. He chuckles.]
How much further is the walk?
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[Well it's nice to have completely unambiguous confirmation that this is going exactly where he assumed it was. Not that he was seriously questioning it still, but who knows... maybe Dorian is just that big of a flirt?
He turns his hand a bit, nudging with his knuckles, letting his fingertips do a bit of flirting with Dorian's warm hands.]
It's just over there.
[It's difficult to miss the massive apartment building, shining glass towering into the sky. There's a doorman who cheerfully greets everyone when they come or go, no matter the time of night, and as usual Hawke breezes right past him somewhat uncomfortably, heading for the elevator.
On the 19th floor he unlocks the door, and leads Dorian inside. The apartments are indeed quite swanky, though Hawke's has a lived-in-with-a-massive-dog touch.) It is relatively clean, thanks entirely to the efforts of Ava, who is out for the night.
Ominous thudding and skittering of toenails announces the presence of Hawke's mabari. The great beast comes tearing out of one of the bedrooms, excitedly panting and waggling his stumpy tail. A new person! Wow!
Hawke puts his hand out and thankfully stops him before he completely barrels over Dorian, then starts eagerly petting the monstrous hound.]
Easy, boy! I'm glad to see you too! This is Dorian. We do not tackle Dorian, understood? [A bark.] Dorian, this is Wuffles.
[The purebred mabari warhound either does not know or does not care about his undignified name, chuffing out a bark of greeting.]
Make yourself at home, and I'll see to him. I'll be just a moment.
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The contrast between these living quarters and the small, stuffy rooms provided to the submissives is stark in his awareness. Though he was told of the societal divide of wealth incessantly since his arrival, this is a first piece of major evidence. Irony twists his mouth, which he tames into a milder look as they take the lift to Hawke's apartment.
Would this whole turn of events be easier for him to swallow if only he was given the position of a dominant?
Better not to dwell in the company of others. He doesn't have much time, in any case, before the dog appears - the way Dorian flattens himself up against the closed door and clears his throat isn't imagined. He's glad for the intervention. It's not that he's afraid, but mabari are just so large, and furry, and... okay, so perhaps his animal experience with the breed is lacking.]
Wuffles. Really.
[It comes in a breathy chuckle of disbelief. Then Hawke's left him alone to explore the interior living space, which he moves into, after toeing off his shoes at the door. The carpet is impossibly soft. Yet the windows take most of his attention; Dorian goes toward them, gazing out over the crystallized lights of the city at night. It's a breathtaking view. In curiosity, he extends out one hand and touches his fingertips to the cool glass.
Though he's never feared heights in the past, a glance down turns his stomach unpleasantly.]
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He looked like a Wuffles when he was a pup. A little potato-shaped baby. Yes he did. Yes he did.
[He grabs a can of dog food and a bowl, then leads the dog into Ava's bedroom. He seems to have already been sleeping in here before Hawke got home, as usual, so he's not fussed when Hawke serves up the food and then tells him to mind his manners before closing the door. Wuffles will inhale that can of food and immediately go back to bed, by his estimation.
Back in the living room, he comes up behind Dorian at the windows and cracks a smile, setting a hand on his shoulder.]
Can't bring myself to stand on the balcony for long. But the view's amazing.
[He may or may not be including Dorian in that description.]
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Dorian reaches to take that hand carefully by the wrist, a loop of fingertips, only to slide them in a gradual touch up the rest of Hawke's forearm, across the elbow, dipping beneath his bicep. It's a meandering exploration. Eventually he decides to lift his hand and cup it over Hawke's cheek.]
Why don't you take a closer look?
[Fingers drag through Hawke's thick beard as though getting a feel for it, dragging blunt nails into coarse hair before he settles on a gentler touch to the other man's jawline. One step closer, and Dorian steers into a kiss, warm and firm without preamble.]
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His eyes glitter as Dorian touches his beard-- which gets him the slightest press of Hawke's cheek, like he's a cat reacting to a good scratch. He tilts his face and meets his lips gladly. It's been a bit since he first wanted to try this tonight and he's eager in the pace, letting gentle presses slowly part and just barely testing a bit of tongue. His hand rests on Dorian's shoulder, then slides back and grips there to do his part in holding them together.
Fear not. He will not be leaning either of them against the window too hard.]
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There's little absurdity in it now. It's no effort to lean in and meet him on the same level, as practiced in the song and dance of this particular dimension of physical intimacy as he is a complicated magical spell. At the first suggestion of depth to the kiss, Dorian's lips part, his own tongue dragging in a brief hot tease across the seamed corner of Hawke's mouth. He chases it with something a little more shallow and chaste to tease.
He's not keen on any window leaning, but he's willing to forgive it if Hawke keeps this up. He does transfer his hand to dark hair, raking careful fingers through the thick mess of it. The other hand hooks into the collar of Hawke's shirt to deliver a sharp, assertive tug and press them much closer together.]
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But leaning in general sounds good. Now that they're better tangled up, Hawke takes a heavy step backward towards the nearby sofa, hoping to steer them that way. His lips part and he chases that playful tongue, and also lets that lower hand find Dorian's backside for a shameless squeeze. Multitasking.]
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Led toward the couch, Dorian gives a low laugh at the grope and maintains the kisses in a continuous string of brief licks of tongue and humid gusts of breath. He likes to tease, to leave wanting, never deep enough to satisfy that delicious clench of want. Before they can move further, however, Dorian stops and reverses their positions so that he can push Hawke down into a seat first.]
Tsk, tsk. Getting a bit handsy, aren't you?
[Dorian's eyes are very dark in the apartment's dimness, backlit by the city lights. If Hawke sits, he won't hesitate to climb into his lap.]
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[All that rugged sturdiness topples easily onto the couch at the slightest bidding. Hawke flops back and starts trying to get out of his hoodie, but only manages one arm before Dorian's in his lap. He looks eager and giddy as he fumbles with the other sleeve, leaning up to tempt him into another kiss even before he's finished.
The hoodie flies over the back of the couch and with both hands free again he cups Dorian's face and instigates the kissing himself this time. His thumbs do inch over enough to stroke the ends of his mustache, curiously.]
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And in enough time to meet the kiss, more than eager, smiling at the touch across a mustache. He rewards a thorough, slick lick past the threat of teeth for it. His own fingers venture to comb through the thick scruff of Hawke's beard.]
I'll allow you to do it again, so long as you behave.
[In pointed sentiment, he squeezes his knees over Hawke's hips, pressing their chests into full contact once more.]
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But only just. The minute there's less between him and Dorian's chest, his his handsy fingers move down to admire that as well.]
What's "behaving," in this context? [It's murmured against his lips between kisses, and there's nothing but gleeful trouble in his eyes when he briefly breaks away to shift, stretching out to give Dorian more to lean against.
His hands move from his chest to his waist, then back to squeeze the jut of his hips. Is this behaving?]
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Dorian's lips curl into a lascivious smirk. He drags one open palm down the center of Hawke's sternum, rasping over chest hair - and Maker, there's so much more of it than he's used to, given his own waxed perfection, but he finds that a bit attractive, like Hawke is this magnificent southern barbarian who will do exactly as he says, presumably. A first for Dorian.]
Behaving, [another hot kiss presses to that handsome mouth,] is minding your manners. [It's a tease, more of a game than anything he intends to enforce strictly.] Here, I'll demonstrate.
[Hands cover both of Hawke's and drag them down over the swell of his ass. He applies pressure, then grinds their hips in a deliberate roll.]
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His smile grows wickeder the more Dorian clarifies, and downright gleeful when he's given more explicit directions. His hands grip down on pert handfuls of Dorian's ass, then he shifts to give him the ideal angle to grind.]
Oh, I see. Behaving. [Another rock of his hips, slower this time, using his grip on him and his strength to pull him against it.] I think I can manage that.
How about shameful flattery? Is that allowed?
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[And it's a fun game, once he finds Hawke amenable, pressing a low moan to warm lips at that grind as reward. He likes the suggestion of strength in the grasp on him, too. One hand lifts to settle itself on the name of Hawke's neck to better control the range and depth of their kisses, the chain of which never seems to end, even between breathy words and teasing licks of a tongue.]
A shame we never got to meet like this in Skyhold.
[Again he rolls his hips, this time with the determined intent to feel the hardening of Hawke's cock through layers of fabric, straddled to tuck himself directly on top of it.]
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[He's sure to move at the precise angle to rub himself against Dorian. The growing bulge in his trousers is plainly obvious by now, and he's loving the other man's willingness to play along and mouth off. When their mouths are available to mouth off, of course, in between myriad kisses.]
If I could help it at all, I'd never pass up such a gorgeous man.
[It's accompanied by a shameless ogle, and another shameless grin that melds into a breathy kiss. His hips adjust and he grinds upwards, encouraging Dorian to ride his lap.]
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You have excellent taste.
[The kissing, though... it's enough to make him feel light-headed and a little delirious, that delicious space of not-thinking in lieu of feeling. He pulls on Hawke's lower lip in a deliberate suck, then leans some of his weight away, this time to reach a hand down between the wedge of their bodies. The warm flat of his palm finds the rigid line of his arousal and covers it, thumb following its shape, to get a sense of its size. Meanwhile, that hooded gaze never leaves Hawke's face.]
I don't follow just anyone home.
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[It's hard to sass when one's mouth is so occupied, but he's doing his best, speaking between letting Dorian tease his lips, between his own playfully aggressive teasing little tugs and nips.]
Lucky, lucky me. Nnh-
[The groan comes along with a wholly shameless press of his hips forward, a grind into Dorian's hand, and a hungry shiver that raises goosebumps on his skin.
There's an eager edge to his voice as he starts running at the mouth, half-thought-out filthy little remarks.]
I'd like to give you your trouble's worth. Lay you out and put my hands all over you. Taste every inch of you. I'll do anything you like.
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The words bring a slow, lascivious smile to Dorian's lips. Leaning away, a free hand drags a path up Hawke's chest through coarse black hair - grazing one nipple as he goes - only to cup his chin.]
That sounds promising. I think I'd like to have your mouth between my legs. I'm not sure I've ever slept with a man so magnificently bearded. [Fingernails gently drag along Hawke's jaw, to make the point.] What do you say?
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Doubly so about a man who compliments his beard.]
I say that sounds fantastic.
[But it will, sadly, mean he has to get Dorian off his lap for the moment. With one more assertive kiss, he pats Dorian's flank to encourage him to roll off so he can swap places with him. Hawke sinks down onto one knee on the floor to let him get comfortable.]
On my knees? Or in your lap?
[The couch is plenty long enough for that, if he'd rather lounge than sit up.]
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[Dorian rolls off, taking his time in the readjustment of bodies. As much as he enjoys a quick and passionate (and sometimes wordless) exchange, the best pleasure tends to come out of communication. He's glad Hawke asks. It also signals a certain conscientiousness that Dorian isn't as used to seeing in his bed partners, but that he lingers less on.]
As much as I enjoy seeing you on your knees...
[And he does, slanting a look at Hawke, so obedient and eager to please. He wets his lips with a flicker of tongue - then lowers his hands to begin peeling off the lower half of his clothes. In short time, Dorian makes an elegant display of himself across the couch, a long line of dusky skin and toned muscle, free of scars and blemishes and waxed smooth. He crooks a finger at Hawke, thighs spread slightly apart in a portrait of leisurely seduction.]
I think I'd rather have you up here with me.
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As Dorian takes his time and starts to undress further, Hawke figures it'd be a good idea to follow suit. His boots slide off, his trousers too, but he remains in the unusual smallclothes that he's adapted to here-- boxers. They do not hide his thick erection whatsoever, though he sort of enjoys the naughtiness of pretending they do.
Once Dorian is so nicely posed and beckoning him, he crawls up onto the couch, getting handsy with those sculpted legs of his. Kissing and tasting his way up from calf to thigh, he locks eyes deviously with Dorian as he moves to lay more or less in his lap. One rough hand keeps moving up his stomach, across his ribs, resting on a pectoral with his thumb within reach of a nipple.
The other hand wraps around his cock, guides it to his lips where he can tease circles around the tip with his tongue. All the while he keeps his gaze on Dorian's face, looking for his reactions.]
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Eyes linger briefly on the boxers with interest, tempted to lean down and tug on the waistband - but it's a bit out of reach for that sort of tease. Besides, he likes when that weight is carried over top of his lap, substantial enough to make him squirm and shift on the seat cushions. Hawke is gorgeous against the backdrop of light from the city, broad across the shoulders, those large hands dragging across inches of bare skin in the gradual climb up the lower half of his body. Dorian spreads his legs further apart so as to cradle the other man between them.
A shiver follows the path of those palms, nipples stiffening at their exposure to the cooler air of the room.]
Good boy. [All right, he's leaning into that whole 'Fereldans and their dogs' metaphor a bit, but it's almost cute to see Hawke lapping at the crown of his cock so obediently, head bowed into his lap, eyes tilted up. He lowers a hand to stroke through thick black hair. The pleasure of that mouth is immediate, just even the suggestion of heat from lips and tongue, Dorian's gaze heavy and dark. He squeezes his legs around Hawke's middle and ruts his hips up, just once.]
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