The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I gave her slumbering form to two of my favored attendants. Twins, and amusingly inventive, they switched roles of Dominant and Submissive sweetly, exchanging places back and forth upon their own heated whims. Sweet, pale trophies from Rome with succulent breasts that would make your mouth water, they often found intriguing ways to go beyond the tasks I gave them to impress me.

“Take her,” I said, quietly, with a curl upon my lips. “Disrobe her out of that fouled garb, and bathe her. Wash her hair, and cut it as you would a boy-child’s. Shave the rest of the hair from her body. Then wake her, and show her the task of my bidding you have done upon her. If she asks, she has not yet earned the right to bear cloth within my most sacred temple.”

I grinned at the sight of their eager eyes. They knew I had something delicious for them. “These then, are my words to her: She may leave my temple, free, and unharmed this once, to never trouble the sands of Egypt again as long as our Kin live across the lands. Or, she can give herself to me, completely, and utterly, and take me as her Temple. Tell her she makes this choice free of will, and my Blood will not spoil her thoughts. Only her own counsel will she take in this. You are not to influence her, in any fashion.” I paused, watching their trepidation.

I smiled, casually. “Do not fear, my Kittens. She is Young. She is a creature of the earth, and cares not for power, or worship. A creature of the earth loves all the land. She has become drunk on the Blood of Egypt. She would not deny it forever. But it will be her choice, so will she think. And indeed, it is—for my Power will not influence her in any way. Not until the end. Her eyes love the land, however, and at our meeting she easily fell upon my Temple when I exuded such anger that would tear your mortal bones apart. I can only imagine her reaction when kindness is brought in anger’s stead. Yes, she will think it is her choice; but in truth her heart can only make one of those choices. She will be Mine. Give her until the Sun’s Slumber to decide.”

I handed them a large, single, long leather sleeve that had recently been oiled. Along its outer shell intricate laces crept ladder-like up, and within it the soft warmth of sheepskin for comfort. It was a favorite device of mine.

“After she is cleaned, and prepared, dry her well. When she has voiced her wish to stay, and give the gift of herself unto me, these are her simple instructions: She is not to move, unless asked, or manipulated by one of my attendants, not in any fashion. She is to consider herself but a child’s doll, lifeless unless being played with. Beyond that, until the ritual, she is to obey the two of you completely. It will be the first of many tests. First, you will bind her arms with this,” I looked at Penelope, amused. “I’m sure you know how.”

She licked her lips, and squeezed her thighs together, a soft inhale of expectation. Her twin blushed heavily, the sultry desert rose.

I enjoyed these games they played. So few mortals could find my humor and favor so easily as these two fine females. “She is not to find release,” I warned, leveling the brunt of my gaze on each of them in turn. I knew what would happen if I allowed them unbridled reign upon the Rat that I had caught. I allowed that to wash over their thoughts, before my yellowed eyes softened. I gave them another promising smile. “But...”

They perked.

“I want her perfumed with your scents. Not one part, from head to toe, is to be untouched. I want her to stink of sex. I want her washed in your arousal, and heat. Do what you need to do, and tell her I bid it so. She will heal whatever light wounds you give her.”

I didn’t need to caution these two about blood, and broken bones. Theirs was the gentle rough-play that encouraged, and elicited the sweet submissiveness in most anyone. Then, I turned to the eight members of my Chorus who had been standing silently behind me within the throne room.

“Fetch your bells,” I said to them, favoring them with one of my more gentle smiles. “The ritual will take place, tonight. I expect a beautiful song, for my new acquisition.”

They quickly bowed, and their breaths quickened in anticipation. This was a rare ritual. My attendants left, walking down the stone halls to do my bidding.

I slipped into the private chamber, closing the door quickly behind me. My thighs dripped. Here, the stained smells of sex and sweat glistened against the walls. Four thousand years and more of lust, and birth, and my Waters had soaked into this cold floor.

I had always wondered what would happen should a mortal step within. I barely made it to the altar, my legs shivering. I took the old wooden phallic shaped bit that was drier than a dead man’s bone, and spread my legs wide. It slipped in so easily, between my sopping folds. Shuddering, I leaned back, and slid my hands across my breasts, squeezing my desire, letting my overflow soak within its frame. All would be ready, soon, and I moaned my heated thanks to Mother Night.

Alive.

I was awake, yet I still dreamed.

The taste of burnt glory was still in my mouth though I had been on my feet for an hour. I walked again to the burnished plate of copper and looked upon my image.

No weapons and naked in the secret court of Isis. I was clean and my body had been shaved in the manner of the pleasure slaves of Rome. My head had been shaved also, but in the Egyptian style of educated young men. A scalp lock of hair hung black as ink from the crown of my head only adorned with twisted wire bands in five places. I looked like neither a girl nor a boy, neither Roman nor Egyptian, and since I was always something else to begin with, I felt strangely satisfied.

Where was my shame?

And I was alive. Why? So that I could answer a question put to me from Mother Egypt’s attendants. To make a choice offered by Isis.

Leave now and never walk the sands of Egypt again or give myself over to Isis and swear to celebrate Her eternally.

An easy answer for me to give. My clan would never let me sleep if I swore complete fealty to the Cat. I would be haunted forever. My sleep would break each night into madness. The Great River would freeze my soul and I would be a thing of pity.

Of course, Isis knew that.

And then there was the curiosity of why. Why was I alive? The Cat’s fury was a legend. Why was I dizzy and excited with the flavor fully remembered of the Great River burning my mouth? Had my mind broken like an overheated clay pot? Did I enjoy dipping my tongue in molten copper? Was I a creature to relish pain? I frowned at my reflection. Yes, an easy answer for me to give. So why wasn’t I gone from here?

It was obvious that She had put a spell on me. Yes. Night was now Day. Freedom was a trap and surrender freedom. She only wanted me as a weapon, perhaps because I was young and not yet a thousand years old. Damn the thrice-cursed Salamander for lying to me about my chances! He had used me too!

It was as my Honored Grandfather had taught me; the other Ancients were Blood mad. They only cared about power and driving each other into the Final Darkness. Even though Cat had unknowingly avenged my Grandfather by killing the Scarab, it didn’t mean She was any different than Salamander or the rest. It wasn’t as if anyone cared for the King of the Golden Vermin.

Except me. I had to look to myself.

Pox on them all. I turned away from the homely refection that was neither one thing nor another. I went and found the attendants.

I put my hands on my hips, “I am leaving. By the words of Mother Isis, stand aside for the Queen of the Golden Vermin.”

They looked shocked, then briefly afraid before their eyes were averted downward. They took a step backward.

I looked about. No guards. I left.

A pox on them all...

I was awake, yet I still dreamed. I stepped out of the Temple and onto the sands of Egypt.

Free.

I touched the Great River, taking into my Blood the power of the Ages. I drew on it and drew on it until I felt the currents all about me. Not enough, I needed to go farther than ever before. I drew on it again and again until I was past the point of return. Past the point where there was any attraction to returning to the mundane world. I was completely with the River and it was glorious with Light. I was amazed at the ecstasy and power.

But it was not as it had been with Isis.

I eased my will and returned to the world. I looked at my hands. I was Queen of the Golden Vermin, the last of my clan. What was that worth?

All was NOT as my Honored Grandfather had taught me. His ways were of the ways of old. The Ancients were Old Evils. They only cared about power and driving each other into the Final Darkness. Their day would end and I was already part of that. As long as We all kept doing things the same way the end was already certain. The best I could do following that path was to be the last one standing.

What kind of future was that? It wasn’t as if anyone cared for the Queen of the Golden Vermin. I was the youngest and least of the Ancient Kin.

Ah, euphoria! Mother Nut laughed with me this evening. Did I not know I was Chosen? I thought again about the ecstasy of my strange moments with Cat.

I turned back to her Court and entered to pledge myself to her dominance.

Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae fuit. There has not been any great talent without an element of madness.

The twins came to me, as I sat on the throne, their faces flushed as they took in their Goddess. My loins spread, with the phallic pleasure-bit still jutting from heated folds. Oil covered my breasts, and my nipples were stiff, and ripe. I was ready for the Ritual to begin.

“She has left,” Penelope bowed, her eyes upon the juicy bit encompassed within my Sacred Temple. Her words were those a frightened child, fearful of death.

I had been so sure.

Had my own eagerness blinded me? Had my years lived within these walls of Egypt, ignoring the Dark Dance for the lay of the world amongst my Kin dulled my senses so? I frowned. Had I been played the bit of the fool, and allowed the Vermin upon my land? Doubt gnawed at my mind, yet still I waited.

I gripped the arms of my cushioned throne, scraping nails against the fine surface.

Those moments were the most horrible, spanning only minutes in eternity, and yet seeming a thousand years at once. She had left, and now—.

A sound echoed in the hall.

My lips curled, and I smiled, I grinned brightly. Vaguely, I heard Penelope’s disgruntled cry. Her sister had returned That Which Left My Temple, and had seen to the bidding I had first put the two of them to, and she had missed it. I grinned at her distraught whimper, and at what I saw before me.

She was plain and yet unique, a curious thing. Dried and shining in the lustful coat of Roxanne, her arms bound behind her in the sleeve of scented leather, she still managed to look proud.

I arched my parted loins, and curled my toes in a soft purr at the sight of her six engorged nipples.

I had no doubt Roxanne had driven the Vermin to the ground, and rode her ascending breasts like a studded mount of pleasure. Again, I grinned, and bade her come forward. My scent was heavy, but I did not use its full potency, yet. Nor did I bring the River into my Voice. “Now begins the Ritual, and the Test,” I informed her.

As I had commanded, she held herself perfectly still like a toy, but she spoke in an older tongue that I knew as Sumerian, “I am Chosen.”

These were nothing more than tests of stamina, and pleasure within those I chose. I had invented many such contraptions of imagination in my long years. Most of my Kittens only would be forced to indulge me in one, perhaps two, in all the years of their service. This one would pass through three, at the same time.

“You will not speak,” I gently warned the girl-boy before me, “Until I bid it over. Should you pass, I will give you one more chance to stay, or be banished from my sands. For the moment, you have earned my favor by giving such gifts as you have to Mother Egypt.” I settled back, easily, and nodded to my attendants.

One brought a small wooden bowl, a long strong shaft of carved ivory set within its middle, reaching for the sky. Encompassing the shaft was a well to catch, or drink liquid from. She then gently shifted my new slave over its point. “Chorus,” I spoke, quietly.

From the shadows, eight of my attendants emerged, each holding a different sized bell within her fingers. These bells were set upon small clamps as I often used them for girls who would drive my chariot. Tonight, they would serve a different purpose. Each of the Vermin’s six nipples were pulled, and clamped, a string run through the ends. The last, and highest of the chimes were attached, one to each side of her already swollen folds.

All waited on me.

I smiled, and extended my hand to the back of her head, and whispered, “Withdraw it from me, and we will begin.” I clenched my strong intimate walls about the shaft, forcing her to pleasurably work the bit shape out with her teeth. It only made my scent sweeter.

She succeeded, and quickly the slave behind her tugged upon the leather straps on its ends, and bound it behind her head.

My taste would now consume her mouth, soaked long in the dried old wood. Again, I grinned, more darkly, as I told her of the genius of my labors. “You have three tasks to perform, before I accept you into my Court. My Chorus will play a song,” I informed her, gesturing grandly to the different sized and weighted bells that hung off her bloated tit nubs, and ascending girlish breasts. “When the song ends, there must not be a single taste of me left on the bit, and the bowl must be full.” I smiled, proudly.

She was pushed onto the ivory tower at my faint nod, and it began.