Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
I never know whether to post here in fantasy or bdsm? I usually choose bdsm so see how this goes here for a change?
I have a few kinky friends I’ve met online who play erotic role play. In this case I wrote a series entirely on my own, so felt no guilt in sharing a more polished version here. I still ran it past him of course, no objection. Given we were the two main characters you can detect my usual Achilles heel in lack of character development but I was hoping the moderately unique ideas driving it might interest some of you.
—————————————————
It’s a beautifully cool autumn day here in Sydney and I am enjoying a walk along Oxford st, my local area, and see something...
I’ve never seen this shop before and yet it has the patina of antiquity about it. I can’t resist it’s trinkets. I uncover an ancient oil lamp, it is finely crafted and to see it’s detail I rub it with my shirt sleeve- is that gold?
On the other side of the world you enjoy a cool spring day in Amsterdam, and enter an ancient curiosity shop, dusty but full of trinkets, a half buried oil lamp catches your eye - is that gold, you ask yourself, as you rub the side to clean and see the details...
We don’t know each other in real life but love to share fantasies on fet life. Dark, forbidden fantasies, of a type that are only talked about in bedrooms - at first in furtive whispers for fear of shame.
At the exact same moment, as we each wipe a golden lamp, a green cloud envelops each of us and we are suddenly before a Great Djinn!
We’ve never met yet somehow the Genie knows we are kindred spirits as we have been transported through to an unknown pocket outside our known time and space, together.
This is no children’s story, we are confronted by an ancient being of power! Instinctively we both drop to our knees and lay our arms before us in deep genuflection. We do this of our free will, not realizing our reactions and movements are entirely simultaneous.
The great Genie says nothing. This is not a game, we are under his power. His will is what determines our fate....
Yet something inside the ancient power’s mind is touched. In over 70,000 cycles, He has never had a mere human so instantly grovel before it’s power in utter supplication. To do so instinctively- to grovel at all before Him is a rarity in modern humans the Genie sorely misses from the days when slaves would do so, although slaves rarely had the opportunity to fall for His lures. Even more remarkably that 2 mortals be so ensnared at the same moment in their time. And to synchronize so perfectly!
They are perfect! He does not need to use tricks, or false promises (the true origin of the oft cited rubbish regarding “3 wishes”) to ensnare these two at all. With a snap of his fingers we are transformed and returned to a different time in the mortal universe....
We lose consciousness during this transition as the last thing we hear is the great Djinn’s fingers snap like a bullet, sounding so much like a whip crack.
.... and awaken to the same sound, discovering ourselves in chains upon a cold stone floor. Instead of the great Djinn we are dimly aware it is not the sound of the powerful mage’s snapping fingers but that of a terrible whip as it crashes down against our flesh. As we scream and cry, a terrifying voice exclaims “who said you could sleep, SLAVES?!”
We cry like children and look upon each other not quite comprehending, asking ourselves “why am I with this teenager?”
As the whip is raised and cracks again against our skin we both scream and cry louder, and slowly it dawns upon us, we are not simply with another teenager , we are ourselves both young.... dimly aware we only recently turned 18.
Chained, being whipped, expected to serve yet we do not know how... all we know is we are enslaved, which for the adult spirits within was their darkest secret dream in their former, pedestrian and dull lives....
“Pathetic slaves!” The whip cracks again, “on your knees and bow!”
Our chains tinkle and rattle as we try to kneel, both of us flooded with tears, hyperventilating and screaming. We don’t understand what is happening, our adult selves are hidden behind a veil in the subconscious mind and fading...
We finally kneel and grovel as the man kicks us into position, faces hard on the stone floor, bums raised, removing the connector chain on our ankles to spread them well apart and kept that way by connecting the steel cuffs to conveniently placed bolts on the floor. Still crying we piss ourselves in terror, earning another taste of the lash...
We can barely see anything but can hear what sounds like a rusty door opening, booted steps, then a clang of the door being shut, as if to seal our doom.
Our short slave skirts are lifted to reveal our virgin arses. We both whimper, fearing another lash of the cruel whip. Instead we hear a grunt behind us as each man kneels behind us. What is going on? Our whimpering turns to tears, we are just two frightened 18 year old kids (and yet from within, a feeling of tightness grows upon us, that we have always deserved punishment and always will, our buried adult psyches influence our conscious immature minds)
TBC
I have a few kinky friends I’ve met online who play erotic role play. In this case I wrote a series entirely on my own, so felt no guilt in sharing a more polished version here. I still ran it past him of course, no objection. Given we were the two main characters you can detect my usual Achilles heel in lack of character development but I was hoping the moderately unique ideas driving it might interest some of you.
—————————————————
It’s a beautifully cool autumn day here in Sydney and I am enjoying a walk along Oxford st, my local area, and see something...
I’ve never seen this shop before and yet it has the patina of antiquity about it. I can’t resist it’s trinkets. I uncover an ancient oil lamp, it is finely crafted and to see it’s detail I rub it with my shirt sleeve- is that gold?
On the other side of the world you enjoy a cool spring day in Amsterdam, and enter an ancient curiosity shop, dusty but full of trinkets, a half buried oil lamp catches your eye - is that gold, you ask yourself, as you rub the side to clean and see the details...
We don’t know each other in real life but love to share fantasies on fet life. Dark, forbidden fantasies, of a type that are only talked about in bedrooms - at first in furtive whispers for fear of shame.
At the exact same moment, as we each wipe a golden lamp, a green cloud envelops each of us and we are suddenly before a Great Djinn!
We’ve never met yet somehow the Genie knows we are kindred spirits as we have been transported through to an unknown pocket outside our known time and space, together.
This is no children’s story, we are confronted by an ancient being of power! Instinctively we both drop to our knees and lay our arms before us in deep genuflection. We do this of our free will, not realizing our reactions and movements are entirely simultaneous.
The great Genie says nothing. This is not a game, we are under his power. His will is what determines our fate....
Yet something inside the ancient power’s mind is touched. In over 70,000 cycles, He has never had a mere human so instantly grovel before it’s power in utter supplication. To do so instinctively- to grovel at all before Him is a rarity in modern humans the Genie sorely misses from the days when slaves would do so, although slaves rarely had the opportunity to fall for His lures. Even more remarkably that 2 mortals be so ensnared at the same moment in their time. And to synchronize so perfectly!
They are perfect! He does not need to use tricks, or false promises (the true origin of the oft cited rubbish regarding “3 wishes”) to ensnare these two at all. With a snap of his fingers we are transformed and returned to a different time in the mortal universe....
We lose consciousness during this transition as the last thing we hear is the great Djinn’s fingers snap like a bullet, sounding so much like a whip crack.
.... and awaken to the same sound, discovering ourselves in chains upon a cold stone floor. Instead of the great Djinn we are dimly aware it is not the sound of the powerful mage’s snapping fingers but that of a terrible whip as it crashes down against our flesh. As we scream and cry, a terrifying voice exclaims “who said you could sleep, SLAVES?!”
We cry like children and look upon each other not quite comprehending, asking ourselves “why am I with this teenager?”
As the whip is raised and cracks again against our skin we both scream and cry louder, and slowly it dawns upon us, we are not simply with another teenager , we are ourselves both young.... dimly aware we only recently turned 18.
Chained, being whipped, expected to serve yet we do not know how... all we know is we are enslaved, which for the adult spirits within was their darkest secret dream in their former, pedestrian and dull lives....
“Pathetic slaves!” The whip cracks again, “on your knees and bow!”
Our chains tinkle and rattle as we try to kneel, both of us flooded with tears, hyperventilating and screaming. We don’t understand what is happening, our adult selves are hidden behind a veil in the subconscious mind and fading...
We finally kneel and grovel as the man kicks us into position, faces hard on the stone floor, bums raised, removing the connector chain on our ankles to spread them well apart and kept that way by connecting the steel cuffs to conveniently placed bolts on the floor. Still crying we piss ourselves in terror, earning another taste of the lash...
We can barely see anything but can hear what sounds like a rusty door opening, booted steps, then a clang of the door being shut, as if to seal our doom.
Our short slave skirts are lifted to reveal our virgin arses. We both whimper, fearing another lash of the cruel whip. Instead we hear a grunt behind us as each man kneels behind us. What is going on? Our whimpering turns to tears, we are just two frightened 18 year old kids (and yet from within, a feeling of tightness grows upon us, that we have always deserved punishment and always will, our buried adult psyches influence our conscious immature minds)
TBC
