Tag Archive | harem

A Week of Settings – Day Six: Tír na Cali/Harem

Tír na Cali is a monarchical nation that takes up the west coast of what, in the real world, is the United States, plus Baja California. It is ruled by a matriarchal triple bloodline of people who call themselves the children of the goddess, and have psychic powers to prove it.

Slavery not only exists but is prevalent, including in its use as a long-term hostage-taking effort; the Californians steal people, generally teenagers and twenty-somethings but sometimes older professionals in desired field, from the U.S. and enslave them in California.

Most slaves serve as one of a few to a small household, as domestic staff on a larger estate, or, if otherwise intractable or useless, as field workers.

However, at least one elderly-by-normal-standards Lady of some repute has opened up a harem in her family estate, where many attractive young men are kept cloistered and in top physical condition, awaiting anything their mistress or her many female relatives might want of them. A key is their ticket out of the harem and into personal freedom…

…but they have to want it.

The Harem sub-story starts here: Gifted

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/588639.html. You can comment here or there.

Icon Flash: Aftermath, Tir na Cali, Harem

New flash series! I’m going to write one flash for every Icon I have, over 4 LJ accounts, 1 DW, and a whole bunch of not-currently-in-use, until I get bored or run out of icons.

Today’s icon:

Generic Tir na Cali noble-lady

Icon & Art by Djinni

In the Harem sub-setting of Tir na Cali, after Preparing the Stage (LJ Link) and Waiting Uncomfortably (LJ Link)

Stephen’s body had passed the point where he could feel the sting of each blow; now it was one long ache. He was crying, he knew he was, biting down hard on the gag Bettie had thoughtfully provided, trying to take the blows quietly and only sometimes succeeding.

If the leather-mistress was right, and Ursula was having a bad day, it must have been a very bad one. She rarely took the flogger to him herself, and she’d never punished him this hard. He couldn’t ask her, even if he could catch his breath, so he tried to keep his weight on his feet – toes, really – and not his shoulders.

When it stopped, the silence was almost as much a shock as the constant noise of the flogger had been. Worse was his Lady, very gently patting his hip. “I had Bettie send for Wensleydale. He’ll be right here to help you, and take you back to the harem for tonight.”

Back to the harem? He grunted his distress against the gag, forcing out words, or trying to. “y’ aa-ee, oh… eese, ooh..” Please no. What had he done? Why would she send him away? “eese…” But the door was shutting, leaving him along in the room.

He sagged against the cross, panting softly. What the hell was going on? Why Wensleydale? Why – all this?

The door opened and closed again, and soft hands began untying him. “She wanted me to say,” Wensleydale whispered, “that it will be all right.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/138696.html. You can comment here or there.

30 Days Second Sem, Waiting Uncomfortably, Tir Na Cali Harem

For the 30 Days Meme Second Semester, for the prompt “21) Roll a d20 twice. Combine the themes of the two previous stories for those numbers.” I got #14 & #17; this follows after #14, Preparing the Stage.

Tir Na Cali, in the Harem sub-setting – landing page here (and on LJ)

Content warning: bondage and mild violence

Stephan squirmed uncomfortably against his bindings, wondering what he’d done this time. He and Lady Ursula had, he thought, been getting along relatively well this week. He’d been trying – his pride squirmed, too, at how much he’d been trying, but she was the boss – to live up to her occasionally-cryptic and frequently-foreign expectations, had been sure to only mouth off in private, and had a long notebook of orders she’d given him, which he did his best to obey (although their sometimes-conflicting nature made that tricky).

But he still found himself strapped to a St. Andrew’s Cross (not what they called it here, but what he knew it as, and damned if he needed another word for “thing he got tied to when they wanted to whip him”), his toes barely touching the ground, more weight than was comfortable hanging from his shoulders, facing the plain white wall while, behind him, the sadist who took care of the leather gear tested her whips, cracking them in the air.

“I…” he tried, even though he knew it was stupid. Bettie casually flicked the end of the flogger against his inner thigh: a warning that left his skin stinging. He fell silent. What had he done wrong? If he was going to be punished, it would be nice to know why. “Please,” he said hurriedly, before she could hit him again, “do you know why I’m here today?”

Bettie patted his shoulder. “Sometimes,” she said gently, “they’re just having a bad day.”

The List:
1a) the story starts with the words “It’s going down.” (LJ Link)
1b) the story starts with the words “It’s going down.” (LJ Link)
2) write a scene that takes place in a train station.
3) the story must involve a goblet and a set of three [somethings]
4) prompt: one for the road
5) write a story using an imaginary color
6) write the pitch for a new Final Fantasy styled RPG (LJ Link)
7) prompt: frigid (LJ Link)
8) write a scene in the middle of a novel called “The Long, Dirty Afterwards” (LJ)
9) prompt: mourning dead gods (LJ)
10) write a story set in three different time periods. (LJ)
11) Write a movie trailer style trailer for a story, existing or not-yet-written. (LJ)
12) prompt: sweet iced tea (LJ)
13) re-write a story that everyone knows (LJ)
14) write a vanilla story dealing with kinky subject matter (LJ)
15) prompt: ascension (LJ)
16) write a scene that takes place at the end of a long road trip. (LJ)
17) write an uncomfortable story (LJ)
18) prompt: a step too far (LJ
19) write a story in which something goes BOOM. )LJ)
20) Write the end of the story ‘The Purple Bag. (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/121268.html. You can comment here or there.

30days Second Semester, Preparing the Stage, Cali

For the 30 Days Meme Second Semester, for the prompt “14) write a vanilla story dealing with kinky subject matter”

Tir Na Cali, in the Harem sub-setting – landing page here (and on LJ).

Bettie was very proud of her inventory. She kept each piece in pristine condition, clean, oiled, free of defect, hung in its proper spot, ready for her hand, or that of the Lady or Lord that called for it.

There was, she mused, not that much difference between her and the harem-keepers. They all kept their inventories ready; they all served the same niche. And they all, in the end, worked on the same slaves.

She laid out her floggers and restraints. The Lady Ursula had called for some supplies this evening; she wanted to be certain everything was perfect.

Mink oil came first. The best floggers and whips were made of leather, firm enough to hurt, but giving enough not to break the skin. They needed to be cared for (and sometimes, even so, blood needed to be cleaned off as well), oiled, smoothed, made supple. They needed to be as good as they could be.

She worked the oil into her favorite three floggers. Stephan made the best noises with the heaviest flogger, so she worked that one up first. Perhaps the Lady would have another choice, maybe the delicate one more likely to leave welts but easier to swing. She oiled that one, too, and then moved on to the restraints.

The leather needed oiling, the buckles a bit of buffing. They took a lot of wear, but, with care, would long out-last their wearers. Bettie was very proud of her inventory, and, she thought, took better care of it than the harem-keepers did of theirs.

The List:
1a) the story starts with the words “It’s going down.” (LJ Link)
1b) the story starts with the words “It’s going down.” (LJ Link)
2) write a scene that takes place in a train station.
3) the story must involve a goblet and a set of three [somethings]
4) prompt: one for the road
5) write a story using an imaginary color
6) write the pitch for a new Final Fantasy styled RPG (LJ Link)
7) prompt: frigid (LJ Link)
8) write a scene in the middle of a novel called “The Long, Dirty Afterwards” (LJ)
9) prompt: mourning dead gods (LJ)
10) write a story set in three different time periods. (LJ)
11) Write a movie trailer style trailer for a story, existing or not-yet-written. (LJ)
12) prompt: sweet iced tea (LJ)
13) re-write a story that everyone knows (LJ)
14) write a vanilla story dealing with kinky subject matter

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/111135.html. You can comment here or there.

30 Days, Daily Prompt, Kink Bingo… Make you Mine

Day 25 of 30 days of Fiction: “27) Prompt: trapped.”

From [community profile] dailyprompt: “life and liberty”.

A double up on [community profile] kink_bingo – O-1 – possession/marking – from my card.

An excuse to use a new icon from djinni

And in the Harem sub-setting of Tir na Cali. (all that for 500 words!!)

“‘… among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.’”

Stephen was talking to himself when Ursula came into her suite. She’d left the manor for a couple days, her ostensible purpose a meeting at the Agency but her side goal giving him a little time to get used to the room and the idea of being hers.

She returned to find him staring out over the vineyards from her balcony, murmuring what she believed was probably part of the American’s Declaration of Independence, over and over again.

“ ‘That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,’” she provided from memory, and was rewarded by a twitch in his shoulder blades.

“I didn’t know you were back.” He hadn’t turned around yet, but he did remember to add, rather belatedly, “my Lady.”

“I just got home. We have most of the American documents in our library, you know.”

“I was just thinking,” he said, his bare back still to her and his back tense, “that I took it for granted, back home. I never really thought about the Declaration, or any of that. Liberty. You people barely even have the concept.”

“That’s like saying your people don’t have the idea of ‘pursuit of happiness,’ just because ours do it better,” she objected mildly. “It’s just not a priority for us, the way it is for Americans.” She hadn’t intended to argue with him today. She never intended to.

“I guessed that.” Now, now he turned around, frowning, and raked his eyes over her in a way that would have gotten him whipped by most of her cousins and peers. His eyes stopped at the narrow gold collar she was holding in her left hand. “Being trapped here, and all.” His gesture was a bit choppy as it took in the scenic vista behind him.

“Trapped,” she agreed softly. He was, after all, with her or in the harems. He was never going to go home again. “How are you enjoying your new cage?”

He winced, and she almost felt guilty. Almost. “The newspaper on the bottom is nicer, and it’s a bit roomier than the old one,” he quipped back. “Quieter, too. I’m still not sure about that part.”

“I’ll try to be sure you don’t get too lonely,” she assured him. His eyes were still on the collar in her hand; she wondered how long he could keep making jokes while staring at it.

Not long, it seemed. “I already have a collar,” he snapped abruptly. “Where are you going to lock that one?”

“You have my grandmother’s collar.” She set this new one down on the table, her eyes still on him. “Kneel for me, Stephan.”

“Make me,” he snapped back, his hands going to the steel band around his neck. “What’s the difference? A collar is a collar. They all make me a slave, right?”

He was, she noted, really freaking out. “This one will make you mine.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/69723.html. You can comment here or there.

Kinkbingo: Sense-Dep. Cali Harem: awakening

[community profile] kink_bingo – N-1 – Sensory Deprivation – from my card.

Triggery, possibly: captivity, dubious-consent, sensory deprivation, kidnapping, bondage.

The world had been hazy for a while, it seemed, like he was floating, drunk, on a salty ocean. Stephen opened his eyes, slowly, wondering how he’d gotten here, and, more dimly, wondering where here was.

Nothing. He closed his eyes and opened them again, the haziness vanishing

Still nothing. Darkness, enveloping and complete. He blinked, wondering if he was dreaming, but he could still see nothing at all.

He wriggled, trying to sit up, and found that he was held down somehow, a pressure against his entire body that gave just a bit, a couple inches, then sprang back, pushing him back against… against, it seemed, nothing. He opened his mouth to yell and found that it was already open, blocked with something that had no taste and enough give to not be uncomfortable, but filled his whole mouth, pressing his tongue against the bottom of his mouth.

He shouted against the gag anyway, and heard nothing. Panicking, he struggled, and found that he couldn’t even really feel the substance he was laying in. They had taken everything from him except his fear. He struggled more, fighting, grunting against the gag although he couldn’t hear the sounds he made, pushing upwards although it did no good, kicking and fighting against an enemy that was implacable and intangible.

It was exhausting, and he was tired already, his shoulders and thighs sore. He welcomed the soreness, tried to work those parts more, just to feel something, but he had no energy at all. Enervated, he flopped back into nothingness.

Then, as he lay in the nothingness, his throat closing with panic, he felt something. Fingers? Fingers, maybe, wrapped around his shaft. Massaging, working upwards, convincing his organ into an erection. His whole body was focused on that. He couldn’t get away, and wasn’t sure he wanted to; if all he could feel was a lessening pain in his back and a hand around his cock, he would take what sensation he could get.

The hand was supplemented by a tongue, licking around the head, expertly finding every nerve ending. He moaned silently, trying to lift his hips up: more. More, please. The tongue vanished, and then the hand.

He could feel cold air across the moistness on his cock, and then an even colder feeling: something hard and chilly around the base of his shaft, around his scrotum, pressing against his hardness, holding it firm. The tongue came back then, licking, biting, teasing, and bringing him right to the edge.

Just when he thought he would burst with it, die with it, the mouth and hand went away, the cold breeze, the pressure, leaving him laying in nothingness with his organ throbbing against the implacable steel, trapped, nothing to do, nothing to feel except the pressure of his need.

He whimpered, although he couldn’t hear it, a low, keening sound, and lifted his hips against his bonds, trying to force out words he couldn’t hear anyway, trying to plead with the unseen hand, the unseen tongue.

Tir na Cali: Cali has a landing page (Lj Link.)

The harem triptych begins with
Gifted, continues on to
Keyed Up, and ends with

This story is a prelude to that triptych.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/61647.html. You can comment here or there.

Kink_Bingo, #SmutSunday, TirNaCali(harem): Learning to Serve

Rating: PG-13 for sexual innuendo

Stephan was learning how to serve.

Against the frowning disapproval of Toma the harem mistress, Wensleydale, the softest of the born slaves, had agreed to give him a few pointers.

“Look,” Stephan had said, in that low, conspiratorial whisper they all got used to using in the harem, “she might want me because I fight back, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know what I’m supposed to do. You said you all thought I knew what I was fighting against. I don’t. And that means she starts out reading from a script I’ve never even seen.”

He’d come back to the harems to pack the few belongings that he could call his, at least by courtesy if not in reality (Slaves were themselves possessions and couldn’t thus own anything. That lesson, at least, had been hammered home very thoroughly). But, more than the tie-tack he’d gotten as a Yule gift or his spare pair of soft-soled slippers, he needed knowledge. He’d gone to Wensleydale because he’d been there, while many of the others had been called out to service, and because he’d been willing to explain things in the past. Of all the prim, proper, well-trained born-slaves in the harem, he’d seemed the most sympathetic to the prisoner-of-war kidnapped American slaves like Stephan.

“So you want to know what script you’re ignoring.”

“Not just that. If, when, I go off-script, I want it to be on purpose. And if I’m going to do this thing,” now that he’d been given a choice, at least, “well, I ought to do it right.” Even if that thing was being a lapdog. If he did it with finesse, if he did it as a choice, it became his thing, and not something done to him.

That argument, at least, had convinced the skinny, beardless harem slave, and he’d been the one who’d convinced Toma to give them a private room. “Service,” he said to Stephen’s doubtful expression, “is a private thing, even when done in public. And Americans are so shy.”

“Shy?” He choked out a laugh, and then swallowed a noise that wasn’t a laugh as Wes shut the door behind them and stripped off his pants. “Hey now, that’s not what I asked for!”

“Shy,” the slender boy agreed, with a small smirk. “Relax. I’m not going to try to seduce you.” As if intentionally giving lie to that sentence, he dropped gracefully to his knees at Stephen’s feet. “We were talking about shyness. I’ve seen Americans come and go in the harems, and nudity is one of those things that seems to matter to you – and it doesn’t to us, not in the same way. I was making a point.”

“Um. All right. Point taken.” He looked down at the boy. “Service?” he asked uncomfortably.

“Service,” he nodded. “After all, you’ll spend a lot of your service nude. And on your knees.”

“C’mon, get up,” he urged, but Wensleydale shook his head, smirking, and grasped one wrist with the other hand behind his back, his hands nearly resting on his ankles. He tilted his head up with an expression of hope and entreaty.

“How may I serve you, my lord?”

Stephen got it, and nodded slowly, although he knew his reluctance was showing on his face. “You’re awfully vulnerable like that.” His hands twitched, looking down at the too-pretty face.

“That’s the point.” He grabbed his toes, arching his back, his head tilted back. “From here, I’m completely open to you. You could grab my collar with one hand, or my hair… go ahead, do it.”

“No way.”

“You wanted to learn.”

“Damnit.” The face was pretty enough, but there was no pretending that wasn’t a guy kneeling in front of him. He waited, but the boy clearly wasn’t going to continue unless he did as he asked. “Damnit!” he repeated, and got a rough handful of sandy blond curls in his left hand, the jangling O-ring of the collar in his right.

“Yes.” It was almost a moan. “And I’m helpless. Completely in your hands.”

“And that’s a good thing, is it?” It was tempting to tug backwards on the hair, or forwards on the collar; he did both just a little bit, to see the rough arch of the boy’s body expand like drawing a bow.

“It is.” His voice came out thready and a bit ragged, but his eyes were firm on Stephen’s. “It’s a metaphor.”

“This-” he drew the bow a little more “-this is a metaphor?”

“It is. Because right now, you can do anything you want to me. You could have tied my hands and my ankles, but you didn’t; I chose to put myself here, on my knees in front of you. I choose to move where you put me.”

He nodded, releasing tension on the boy without letting go of his dual grip. “I see. So what happens is in my hands, because you put it there.”

“Yes.” In that position, there was no hiding or ignoring how turned on they both were right now. Wensleydale kept his voice level anyway. “We kneel in service, not to put ourselves lower than our mistresses, but to put ourselves in their hands. So…” Now, he licked his lips, and Stephen didn’t think the flush of his cheeks was just from the positioning. “How may I serve you, my Lord?”

[community profile] kink_bingo prompt I-1 from my card, “Service.”

Stephen is from a triptych of stories set in a TirNaCali harem:
Keyed Up, and

Tir Na Cali has a landing page (LJ Link).

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/55785.html. You can comment here or there.