Shackles of the Genie
Check out my new release: Shackles of the Genie
Takrim is lost and beaten in the ancient forests of Arabia. Sadiq finds him and tries to save him, but finds that Takrim is under the control of a powerful, evil jinn.
The eveil jinn traps Takrim with pleasure. There's only one way to save him.
Shackles of the Genie is a gay erotic short story.
Here's a sample:
Stepping inside the warm ring of light cast by the camp fire, the stranger over his shoulder stirs. Sadiq slows, laying him down carefully to his pad of blankets.
With darkly lidded eyes, the young man looks around with confusion, and subtle relief. Questions seem to collect upon his brow, but he does not ask them. After a few moments, he meets Sadiq’s intense gaze.
“You should not have brought me here.”
Sadiq is a little put off. He kneels down before him.
“Who are you?”
For several breaths, the man stares at Sadiq with tired eyes.
“Takrim. My name is Takrim.”
“I am Sadiq.”
They nod in greeting, but Takrim’s movements are hesitant.
“What happened to you? Was something following you?”
Takrim stares out into the darkness beyond the light of the fire.
“It does not matter.”
He pushes his arm into the ground in order to stand.
“I must leave.”
Sadiq places a hand on his shoulder, firm.
“You are in no condition to travel.”
Takrim deeply fills his chest.
“My life is none of your concern.”
Sadiq smiles, giving his shoulder a paternal pat.
“It is now, stranger. My conscience will not allow me to shoo you off, half starved, thirsty, and with nothing to protect you from the chill. When is the last time you ate or drank?”
Takrim raises his hand to his face, weary. Seeing he will not – or cannot – answer, Sadiq reaches for his leather waterskin.
“Here, it’s water. Better have your fill.”
Takrim pushes away the waterskin and again tries to stand.
Sadiq grasps his bicep, holding him. They lock gazes.
“You are safe now. I don’t know what you’ve been through, but you don’t have to be afraid. Please... let me help you.”
Sadiq offers the waterskin again.
Takrim accepts it. His eyes glaze as he lifts it to his lips. Swallowing a small sip, he begins to tremble. Sadiq catches the waterskin before he drops it.
“I must... leave...” Takrim gasps. He shakes so bad he can barely get his arms underneath himself.
Sadiq covers him with a thick fur. He puts pressure on his chest, forcing him to lay back.
“No... I cannot... stay here. The ghylan... are coming.”
“Ghylan?” Sadiq huffs, reaching for his pack. “I think you need something a bit stronger than water.”
“The ghylan!” Takrim writhes.
Sadiq sits behind Takrim and pulls him against his chest, one arm restraining him, one arm holding a metal flask.
Takrim tries to resist, but he does not have the strength to fight.
“Easy, stranger. You’re safe now.”
Sadiq waits until his thrashing calms, then shows him the flask.
“Red grape wine from Ksara.”
Sadiq places the flask to Takrim’s lips and makes him drink. Takrim accepts it, gradually sinking into exhaustion.
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