The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Disclaimers:

  1. The following story contains events sexual in nature. If it is against the law in your location for you to read such things don’t read this story.
  2. The following story is fictional. The characters are fictional. The archaeological group and translators are fictional. Nothing and no one is based on any non-fictional events or people.
  3. Insert copyright notice here along with threat of instant karma (the bad kind).

Author’s Notes:

E-mails welcome but I may not have the time to respond:

Spring’s Second Waning Half Moon

I invited yla to share dinner with po and I last night. popo served the three of us and things went smoothly at first, though my concubines were kinder to the slave of a slave than I would have liked. yla flirted with both po and me and it was good to see po smile and laugh at his antics. We had piglet stuffed with grain and wilted greens. popo spent most of his time shredding the meat from the bones and feeding them to us. Everyone’s lips were glossy with fat and when we were full we reclined against the pillows and I told popo to massage his owner.

I couldn’t bring myself to refer to po as popo’s master. It felt wrong to use that word for a man. I’d tried to think of a masculine version of master but the closest I could come up with was “mauryika-ryla” [lit. “master-man”] and that was both clunky and long and still too feminine. I decided “owner” was better. popo could say, “Yes, owner,” in response to po’s orders and it would make their relationship obvious without confusing them or anyone else. And it would serve to drive home the truth of popo’s station every time he said it.

yla snuggled against me while popo straddled his owner’s lower legs and started massaging his back. po protested, citing his full stomach, but closed his eyes and gave in anyway. His back was scarred and there were still one or two wounds that hadn’t completely healed. I watched popo’s eyes as he took in the sight and they widened. His face fell to serious contemplation and he moved his hands tenderly, avoiding obvious sore spots and ready to stop immediately if po felt any pain. It was clear that popo had little memory of the nightmare at his old house. Even in whetting it was hard to get him to speak of it in any but the most general terms. His mind had put the memories somewhere still out of reach and I was starting to think it would be best to leave them there. He had been little more than a pawn and it would be best to let him think his punishment was for something he could remember doing.

My thoughts were interrupted by yla sliding a hand up my back, caressing me.

“Would you like a massage too, Master?” He asked.

“My stomach is too full, yla, but I have another idea,” I sat up and yla looked up at me, smiling.

“I hope your idea somehow involves me pleasuring you,” he simpered and I laughed.

“Of course it does, concubine,” I growled at him. I lifted my skirt and straddled his hips, letting my sex settle over his, separated by his decorative loincloth. po opened one eye to look at us. He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eye, relaxing under popo’s touch.

“Oh Master, what do you intend to do with me?” yla asked in mock fear.

“You don’t need to know that right now, concubine, you just need to get yourself ready for me.”

“How do I do that? I am such an innocent little boy.”

I could hardly keep myself from laughing at his little game. He was batting his eyes at me and fumbling with my skirt as though he was half excited and half frightened by what we were about to do. I played his game and pulled his hair roughly.

“After tonight you won’t be so innocent, and from what I feel between my legs, you aren’t so little to begin with, boy.”

He whimpered and squirmed under me while I gyrated my hips gently against yla’s loincloth and his body began to respond. I slipped a finger between his skin and loincloth and tugged at it.

“How do you get this thing off,” I muttered in mock frustration.

“Let me do it for you, Master. I know these little bits of cloth can be so irritating.”

He reach down and undid a hidden knot or two and suddenly there was nothing between us. I felt his hot penis nestling and nudging itself closer to its goal and I sat down harder to keep it from entering. He moaned and his buttocks started thrusting and squirming even more. I put my hands on his shoulder and commanded him to stop.

“You are in my power, concubine, and cannot move until I say so.”

He obligingly stopped moving and looked past me.

“Okay, you can move everything on your head.”

His tongue stuck out and waggled at me. I bent my head down and sucked it into my mouth. We kissed slowly, softly, and I began to raise my hips, my hands still pressing down on his shoulders. His penis lurched, seeking me out, and I rubbed my pussy against its head. It was leaking and soon my entire crotch was soaked in his wetness. Before I took him in me I glanced at po and his slave. They were trying hard to ignore us.

There was a reason why I was doing this beyond my own desire for sex: I was hoping yla and I could arouse po enough that he’d take popo. This would further reduce popo in his own eyes and it would be a form of revenge that po could take for himself. I wasn’t sure, however, if po really wanted to take revenge in the first place.

I returned my attention to yla and I could see in his face that he knew exactly what I was doing. He looked neither pleased nor accusatory, just resigned to being a part of my plan. I put my lips next to his ear and whispered, “The whetstone sharpens the mind.” He sighed and closed his eyes. I kept whispering in his ear as I slid his penis into me, taking him in as far as I could without shifting my lips from his ear. I moved gently over him, letting him out, letting him back in, again and again with an almost painful slowness. When yla started to moan I stopped. He groaned and tossed his head but he remembered my command to keep still.

“What’s wrong, my innocent little concubine?” I asked.

“You stopped,” he whined.

“So?”

“So it would be nice if you started again.”

“I thought you were here for my pleasure.”

“I am, I am.”

“So then you shouldn’t be so disappointed when I stop. Perhaps I’ve had my pleasure and now I’m done.”

He snorted and tilted his head back in agony. Then he relaxed and opened his eyes.

“It is my pleasure to provide for your pleasure. If you’re done and it was good then please tell me I served well.”

“It was satisfactory, concubine, but now I think I want to start again.” And I did, straightening up and sliding his penis in and out of me its entire length and stopping again a little while later, his shaft buried to the hilt and my thighs locked tight against his sides. Again he gasped for air but then made himself relax, waiting patiently to be used, or not, as I desired.

The show of control kept popo’s attention and finally his hands strayed and both yla and I turned to look when we heard po’s sharp intake of breath. popo sat back and cringed visibly.

“I’m sorry, owner, I’m very sorry.” And I could see on his face that he was truly sorry, apologizing for more than a stray hand during a massage. po rolled onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows, eyeing popo for a moment.

“Go get us all some cold tea. I have a feeling our Master will need some refreshment and so will we all after that lunch we had.”

Relieved, popo jumped up and virtually ran out of the room. po turned his face to me.

“Speak.”

“Master, I know what you are trying to do.”

“Oh? What am I trying to do?”

“You are trying to make me jealous of yla, frustrated with my weakness, angry with the man who took part in my assault, and take it out on popo by raping him. With respect, Master, I must protest.”

I eyed his face and felt ashamed. He was right and it was unfair of me.

“On the first two points you’re wrong and I’m sorry if you were jealous and frustrated. Perhaps we can send popo away and you could join yla and me.”

He shook his head, “I still feel weak. I could not perform as you would like and both of us would be unsatisfied.”

“In that case, you and popo are excused. I am not done with yla. But once I am we will talk a bit more.”

“May I say something?” yla asked as popo reentered the room with cups of tea.

“Speak,” I said, inwardly berating myself for letting anyone talk in the first place. I was starting to feel less aroused.

“po does not know the depth of popo’s shame and guilt. Perhaps he should invite popo to express it.”

popo, who had been kneeling by the drinks on the table, gave a slight nod as he eyed the floor. po shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter how bad he feels, what matters is that I forgive. I can’t forever be angry with him and if I don’t forgive him I will not be able to get beyond what happened. Don’t make me abuse him.”

popo turned his head in my direction. I groaned in despair and rose to my feet, leaving yla’s half-hard penis exposed. I tossed a pillow to him so he could cover himself.

“You men will be the death of me, I swear. Speak, popo.” I settled myself down at the table across from them as yla began to tie on his loincloth.

“Master, I’d do anything for po, and not just because I hurt him but because he’s been so kind. The last few moon phases have been difficult but I love my owner and can’t imagine keeping anything from him. Everything I have is his and since all I have is my body then he can use it as he sees fit.”

“That was quite a statement. But what about your mind?” I asked, staying with the charade that popo was still in control of his own mind. His body shook a bit as he answered, “It is his, as well.”

“Shall I whet you to make this so?” I asked. He nodded but po shook his head violently.

“Please don’t bind him to me,” he said.

“You don’t want him?”

“I am a man, a man does not own other men. Whet him for whatever other purpose you like, but if he chooses to be mine I want it to be without influence. And anyway, owning someone is a bond I do not want to have.”

I wanted to talk more about influence, to debate the idea that whetting is somehow a much different form of influence than say, teaching or showing or just plain talking, but we still had to get the main issue out of the way. I gestured for popo to leave the room so I could speak freely.

“popo forfeited his life when he was freed not because he chose that freedom but because he did not choose to return to his rightful place. He forfeited mercy when he used that freedom to abuse people. The only mitigating thing is that he was ‘influenced’ by that Goreka man. There is a fine line between slavery and loyalty. Now that he is loyal to you it will not matter if I bind popo to you or not, he is still your property. He has said as much. The difference would be an increased placidity and a decreased desire to bicker with you. But look at you both! So free with your words, so free to disagree. Do you think popo will be a mindless animal when I’m done whetting him? I admit I thought about it but obviously I haven’t the strength or it would already be done. I am trying to give him a punishment he can stand on, to support him as he realizes the extent of his errors. And I am trying to give you, po, someone you can lean on as you heal.”

They were silent, looking at the floor, as I took a sip of my tea.

“Master, thank you for the mercy you’ve given popo. I will take him as my slave.”

“And you, yla, since we’re being so straightforward, what have you decided about your future?”

“I choose to be whetted to accept my fate here. I cannot imagine serving another woman.”

“Well, now that we’ve gotten all of this out of the way, take your tea with you as you leave. I’d like to be alone for a while.”

I was still angry that they hadn’t understood how gentle I was being with popo and, at the same time, still ashamed that I’d tried to make po dominate him when it was quite obviously impossible for po to do so. It amazed me that I knew so little of men despite being a Whetstone. I barely had time to throw myself on my bed in a bout of self-pity before toto came running to kneel at the entrance, one hand holding aside the curtain.

“Speak,” I murmured.

“Master, the second man has awakened.”

“Get the butcher to castrate him and I’ll see him when he’s recovered. And have someone gag him. His words are dangerous.”

“Yes, Master.”

toto left and I stretched out on my back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. I had found a place for popo but where did niokos belong? It may well be that we would all be better off with him dead but I had this desire to break him on the whetstone, undo his mind with the very thing he had used to wreak so much havoc on my people.

He was a captured warrior and it seemed certain, however hard to imagine, that he had not been a slave before captivity. He was smart, having learned our language quickly and even how to whet both men and women. He would not be easy to break and, once broken, what would be his purpose? Working with popo had shown me that I was not vindictive. However funny the idea of a human acting like a peacock might be, I obviously could not bring myself to whet anyone to it. As for having a real place in my household, the only type of slave I was missing was a messenger. Even if niokos recovered enough to be a good runner I doubted I’d ever be able to trust him as I trusted po. Before I fell asleep I resolved to see a slave trader tomorrow about a new messenger. I should send word to my sisters that I had a Goreka in my possession. Maybe they’d have an idea of what to do with him.