This blog has turned into a rants and stories blog. I don't mind really but when I started it I sometimes just wrote about fantasies, images and scenes in my head without making them into stories. This is a return to that. I will tell you a fantasy of mine. Some may think that this is very much inspired by John Norman but I can tell you that I had those fantasies long before I ever read any of the Gor novels. I can admit that I have been inspired and it may show but, as I have said before, John Norman didn't invent slavery.
This is a typical parallel world fantasy. It starts with the girl, that is most often me, in her bed, sleeping. She is by some strange magic whisked off to another, parallel world (magically, not in this universe) and wakes up in this new world. Things look very similar to our world, there is a big plain and some woods and rolling hills and blue sky. So she doesn't really understand that it is another world at first.
I am dressed only in a flimsy but full length nightgown which makes me realise that something really odd is happening. (Did you notice my clever change from third person to first, there?) I start walking over this green lush plain towards a forest I can see below the rolling hills. I am completely alone beneath the clear blue sky.
I soon get company. A man on a horse appears and I am both glad to see someone and scared of this stranger. There is no place to run on the plain so I have to wait the approach of this man.
He is a strong man, not necessarily muscular and young but more of the kind with grey eyes, confident, with a will of steel. He is not a cruel man, just a strong man. He sits on his horse regarding me. He talks to me and I reply. There is some confusion. I don't behave like he expects and I don't understand his questions. He wonders where I am from and doesn't recognise the places and countries I speak of. He is not unkind but quite stern.
Then there comes an important point in the fantasy. The man shows that he has had enough of conversation and simply orders me to strip. I don't believe what I am hearing and does not comply. Disbelief is a good word to describe what goes through my mind. The order is repeated and I realise that he is serious.
This is a moment of fear. I realise the situation, how vulnerable I am and how powerless I am. I realise I have to obey him, out of fear if nothing else. I think that he is about to rape me and doesn't want to be bothered with my clothes. I talk to him, reason with him and even plead with him.
I do strip off my nightgown and I am suddenly naked, completely naked in front of this man on his horse. He is clothed, he is wearing leather boots, a cloak and a belt. He carries a sword and maybe even a shield on his back. I am naked and in that moment I realise that I have accepted his power over me. I can still argue with myself and say that I fear him but deep down I know I have accepted his power over me.
He dismounts and approaches me. At this moment my heart is beating with fear. Images of being raped flashes through my head and I resign to my fate, thinking: 'this is it, now it will happen.'
Instead of raping me the man ties my arms behind my back and fastens a rope around my neck, like a leash. He mounts his stead and rides off, with me on the leash, naked and bound. Without violence, without even overpowering me he has captured me and I am, suddenly, just a naked woman, lead away bound behind his horse.
Then the fantasy can go on and I follow this man, walking by his horse, always on the leash, sometimes bound, sometimes not but always naked. I am his captive, I have to serve him, cook for him and wait on him. Always naked. He binds me in the night and throws a blanket over me. The coarse fabric scratches my naked skin and I am helpless in my bonds.
He is kind to me in his own way. He is not a man who has to assert himself by humiliating me or demanding me to call him Sir or Master. That is beneath him. He knows his strength and he knows his power over me. He is patient and knows I will understand. He talks to me and is kind to me but there is never, ever any doubt about my status. I am his captive and I do his biddings.
Slowly I get to understand my status, understand who I am in this world. There are two things that helps me understand who I am. The first thing is his whip. He whips me whenever I don't please him, when I am too slow or makes too many mistakes. There is no cruelty in this. It is just natural to whip a captive when she is not doing it right. I am not defiant. I am too clever for that. I am obedient but still I have to be whipped at times. It shows me that I am, in every respect, a slave.
The other thing is what happens after a while. It is not the first thing this man does. He is patient and waits for when I am ready for it. When he thinks it is time he takes me. He uses me for his own pleasure and I have no say, whatsoever, in this. There is no malice, no want to humiliate me in his conduct, just that he thinks that it is time for him to use me this way.
The thing that makes me surrender to this man, finally give up my freedom and realise who I am is that I cannot hold back my own pleasure. I do come when he takes me. I have no choice and in some strange way, this liberates me. From that moment I can relish my captivity. I have no say and thus I am free to enjoy it fully.
I become devoted to this man but more than anything I become devoted to my own slavery.