I sit back after posting my 100th story, each one an exciting fantasy. Fantasies where I'm tied, enslaved, tortured, used, dehumanised and teased and denied in various ways, each making me hard and horny as I picture myself living out their fates, some created by their own hand, some forced upon them, part of me wishing I could live those fantasies for real, that I really could be me tied up and used, kidnapped and sold, turned into nothing but a pet or toy, trapped with a collar locked around my neck, constantly denied, locked in chastity or have my cock removed, being used to give pleasure to others and then left like an object. To be tortured, my screams of pain and desperate pulling of my restraints only turning on my sadistic master as he beats, whips and shocks me, to be whored out to strangers to make money for my master, being used as a cum dump and toilet, forced to consume everything, to be imprisoned forever, never seeing the outside world ever again, locked in shackles, the rattle of my chains a constant companion. I play with my hard cock as I think of all the exciting stories that I've told and the many ideas that I have left to write, lost in my dark and twisted fantasies and desires.
"You really want to live out your fantasies?" I look around in surprise as I hear a voice. Who is there? My heart races as I scan the room.
"You have quite the list of fantasies don't you? To many to pick just one " Am I going mad?
"No. You're not going mad. You've just attracted the attention of someone who can grant your wildest dreams and fantasies. I seek out kinky individuals like you and grant them their greatest wish. But you have so many it's hard to choose. Do I make you a painslut tortured forever? Make you a puppy, obediently pleasing your owners? Do I make you a bondage whore spending your life making money for your master? Do I make you a prisoner in your own sadistic prison, chained, gagged, starved, tortured and used for the rest of your life as entertainment for an audience? Do I make you trapped in permanent bondage, unable to move, hear and see, only feeling the cocks that use you? Have you buried and covered in trash? Turn you into a toilet and make yiu live off of piss, cum, shit and other disgusting things, like vomit, blood, spit, snot, nail clippings, hair shavings, etc? Or one of the many other wonderful and delightful ideas formed in your mind. Do you have a preference?" I sit frozen in confusion and fear. I struggle to think of a response, whichever story I pick I have a feeling that things won't end well.
"Well? Which will it be?" My mind races at the prospect of choosing just one fantasy, like the voice said there are so many. Is there one that I want to live out more than all the others?
"If neither of us can choose then there is only one option. Why not all of them? Yes, that's what I'll do, all of them. You'll live out all of your fantasies, all of your stories, not just the ones that you've written but the ones you were going to write." What? No. The realisation and fear of what is about to happen to me fully sets in, as I feel the world falling away around me. This can't be happening, I can't be magically placed into my own stories, this can't be real.
"Have fun being enslaved over an over again, I hope you enjoy every single one of your fantasies. I shall feed off of your arousal, your desperate frustration, your pain, your fear, your love for you master, your comfort in being owned and bound, your blissful orgasms, your submission, your humiliation, yiur dehumanisation and your degradation." The voice fades as I'm left floating in a void of nothing.
I suddenly find myself at my old college as I climb into my own locker, playing out the events of my very first story, soon I'll be trapped in here, until I'm finally freed and used by the security guard. As I restrain myself my old life slowly fades, memories of being a writer disappear and I forget that I'm in a story, living out a kinky story that I wrote, I forget everything that is about to happen to me, not just in this life but the many lives yet to come, each one a life of slavery, submission and bondage, each one a fantasy of my own making that will become a reality. As the last parts of my old self disappears, replaced with that of my own character, my last thoughts can't help but be of excitement and arousal at everything that is going to happen to me and be done to me, my very last thought being directed towards the being that granted my greatest wish.
"Thankyou."
Epilogue:
I awake in the void once again, as they always do, memories of all the past realities return to my mind and of the distant life I once lived, a life where I made all of these stories that I'm forced to live through, the parts I'd written and the parts I hadn't, the wish granter taking some liberties with the moments that were unmentioned, filling in the gaps between events. Although I don't recall any other stories that I'd written, maybe it's finally over, maybe I'll be returned to my original life? Not that I can really remember it well after so many more exciting lives. Although part of wants that, another part of me feels strangely disappointed at the idea of returning to my boring old life of only fantasising, part of me craves more, more fantasies to live out, more bondage, more slavery, more torture, more denial, more submission, more dehumanisation, more humiliation, more degradation, more of everything, my desires that got me into this situation still exist, still are satisfied, still wanting more.
Suddenly I feel myself being pulled out of the void and into another world, a new reality, is this one home or something else. I find myself somewhere different, unrecognisable, I'm definitely not back to my old life. Where am I? Wait, what did that being say long ago? That I'd not just live through the stories I'd written but all the ones I would have written. How many would I have written? Fear builds inside me, every time before now for a brief moment I've known what is coming but for the first time in thousands of years I have no idea what to expect. As my mind begins to fade away once again into the new character, I find myself excited to see what is coming next, eager to play out a new fantasy.