The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Around Her Neck—Chapter 1

WANTED

The Notorious Mercenary Kara Skysong

This brazen thief is wanted for the wholesale robbery committed against honest traders and merchants traversing our northern border.

3 Stone weight in gold coinage offered for information leading to her.

All good citizens should feel themselves obliged to do whatever is in their power to bring her to justice.

With each step, the chains around Kara’s hands and feet seemed to weigh more heavily. After months spent dodging Northreach patrols, she’d finally been cornered and forced into battle. It hadn’t ended well.

“They haven’t killed me yet.” She thought as the guards led her through the palace. “That’s the important part. I’ve been in tougher scrapes than this before. If I can just avoid execution, I should be able to find a way out of here.”

“Avoid execution. Right. That’ll be easier said than done.” The lifeblood of the Northreach economy was the trade through their northern passes, and for the past eighteen months her troops had all but put a stop to it. After all the damage, she wouldn’t be surprised if the king wanted to make an example out of her. Her actions had made him look weak, and threatened not only the stability of his rule, but the balance of power in the region.

That was exactly why she’d been paid so much to do it. Her troops had a reputation for skill and discipline, but they weren’t numerous. Up in the tight mountain passes, that didn’t matter as much. Too many soldiers could be as bad as too few, and their small numbers let them evade capture time after time. For eighteen months, they’d succeeded where so many others failed. She had no illusions about outside help. Her employer, the port city of Seahold, was not known for its loyalty to hired blades. Once they learned of her capture, they’d forget her and move on to some other plan. If she had any hope of escape, it would have to be accomplished alone.

Before long, they reached the audience chamber where the king was waiting. He looked every bit the triumphant monarch, as he sat in his gilded chair. Just a hint of a smile showed the joy and relief he must have felt at her capture.

He looked over her appraisingly. She was hardly at her most presentable. They had marched her straight back to the castle, and she was still covered in the dirt and grime of the battlefield. The king had a discerning eye, but even the most oblivious would spot hints of her beauty. That beauty could have easily secured her a soft and comfortable life in any of the great trade cities, but she’d long ago decided against such a life.

“If anything, the rumors of your beauty were understated”, the king said. “You owe me a great debt for the trouble you’ve caused, and I assure you I mean to collect.”

With that, the king spoke softly to one of his attendants. The man reached into a nearby box, and presented its contents to the king.

“Yes, quite a large debt to pay off. But you’ve given me time to prepare, haven’t you? You will see that the time was well spent.”

The king held up the object, providing her first good look at it. “By the gods!", she thought, feeling a renewed sense of panic. It was a Kassyrite slave collar. She hadn’t thought heard of any this far west.

She knew a little of Kassyrite artifacts by reputation. Though time had swept away most remnants of that ancient civilization, some of their magics had persisted. Many had tried to duplicate their powers, but if any succeeded she’d never even heard rumor of it. Though the secret to their construction was long since lost, the years hadn’t dulled their potency. She’d heard a bit about the collars. They were more common to the east, and were said to instill a slavish obedience in their wearers. Seeing the king with one meant trouble.

She began to struggle, but the guards were quick to restrain her. At any rate, the manacles on her legs and the many alert guards doomed an immediate escape attempt. She’d counted on having time to plan out her escape. Had she been thrown in a cell, she would have some opportunity to break out at a time of her own choosing. She hadn’t counted on the collar, and its appearance dashed those hopes. Once collared, who knew what she could do to escape.

“Now”, continued the king, “I’ve heard it said that these are more effective if they are placed by the prisoner’s own hand. Perhaps the magic interprets it as voluntary, or maybe the wearer breaks more easily knowing they did it to themselves. For all I know, it may just be an old legend with no truth. It really doesn’t matter. I enjoy the idea of you condemning yourself to bondage with your own hands. So because it amuses me, you will place the collar around your own neck.”

Kara sputtered in shock. “Are you mad?” She spoke for the first time since entering the palace. “I will do no such thing.”

“No?” replied the king. “I think I have something that will change your mind. Follow.”

At this, the king rose and walked through a set of ornate doors leading to a scenic balcony. Her guards brought her outside, behind the king. His back was to her, and he looked out at a nearby cliff. When he turned back towards her, she saw an opening. He was so close to the railing that she might be able to send him toppling off the edge. She shoved her shoulder into the closest guard. It left him off balance long enough to slip his grasp. Kara lunged, charging at the King’s exposed side. She was close, but not quite fast enough. One of the guards acted quickly, driving the butt of his spear into her stomach and knocking the breath out of her. It stalled her long enough for others to tackle her to the ground.

Kara gasped, trying to pull air into her aching lungs as she was pulled back to her feet.

“An attempt on my life? Do you value your men so little?” asked the king, pointing to a nearby cliff face. Though it was hard to make out in the dwindling twilight, she could see a large group of men held by the king’s soldiers. “Eighteen months of constant hardship. Always on the run, always in hiding. And yet in all that time, there wasn’t a single traitor. Not one that crept off to claim the reward we were offering. And if there was even a single defector, my spies were certainly never able to find them. Such loyalty is surely a rare thing, astonishing even. One that I suspect is reciprocated. So let me say this again. You will put the collar on with your own hands, because if you do not I will begin sending your men over the side of the cliff. Face it, captain, one way or another tonight will end with that collar around your neck. The only question is how many of your men your refusals will kill.”

This shook her deeply. The thought was repugnant, yet he was right. The only leverage she had was to refuse, but even if she held out they would simply put it on her themselves. If she refused, it would just be delayed until the king executed her men.

“Sergeant, prepare to give the signal.”

“Wait! Stop!” Kara couldn’t bring herself to say the rest.

“Why should I?” asked the king. “Have you changed your mind?”

“Promise me they won’t be harmed. I want your assurance. That’s the deal. If wear the damned thing, my men are safe.”

“You have my promise.”

“How can I trust that? I want something more than empty words.”

“If you seek anything more than my word of honor, you’re going to be disappointed. You’re hardly in a good bargaining position. I swear to you on my honor that if you place the collar around your neck I shall not kill your men, so long as they’re my prisoners. They will be allowed to seek honorable ransom. If they cannot make ransom, then they shall at least be treated fairly until the conflict with your former patrons has concluded.”

That was probably the best she could hope for. “I,” the words stuck in her throat. “I’ll do it.”

“I knew you’d see reason. Guards, unshackle her hands.”

The attendant brought the collar over to her, placing it in her now free hands. The guards were ready, and the king had moved from the railing. No one intended to give her another chance at him. Her hands trembled, and she could hardly believe what she was about to do. For a second, her eyes darted to the open space past the balcony.

“Thinking of throwing it away, are you? It might buy you a short reprieve, but that fall won’t hurt the collar. All it would do is lose you what assurances I have given. If you throw, I’ll start by sending several of your men off the cliff after it. The collar will be brought back up, and all you’ll have to show for it will be the dead.”

Kara scrambled to think of a way out, but she didn’t see one. At least, not one that wouldn’t result in her men being butchered. That wasn’t a price she was willing to pay. At least the king had given her one small hope. He’d said it worked better when placed by her own hands. That told her its power wasn’t absolute, that there must be a way to fight it. For the first time since seeing the collar, Kara felt something akin to confidence. There’d been a setback, sure, but her original plan was sound. She’d avoided execution, and that had been the hard part. She’d wear the collar, all right, but she would still find a way out.

With renewed hope but trembling hands, she brought the collar to her throat. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she reached behind her neck and clasped the ends together.

She wasn’t sure what to expect, now that it was wrapped snuggly around neck. She waited, wondering if she’d made a terrible mistake. The wait wasn’t long. It started with a tingling sensation where the collar touched her skin. She shivered as it moved from there, spreading in a wave throughout her body. Where it passed, she felt just a tiny bit more sensitive. A little more aware of the feel of the air on her skin and the texture of her clothing. The collar was tight around her throat. She was keenly aware of how it felt pressed against her, yet somehow it wasn’t restrictive. It seemed to flex just slightly with every movement. Always tight enough that she couldn’t help but notice it, yet never constricting.

“Kneel”, the king commanded.

Kara felt the command almost before she heard it. A new need coursed through her, compelling her to fall to her knees. It caught her unawares, and she was soon on the floor. Happiness bloomed within her as her knees made contact with the cold ground. The feeling was clearly foreign, but hard to deny. The collar was rewarding her, making sure she knew that obeying orders felt good.

The king looked on in triumph. She gazed back up at him, and was shocked by how commanding he now appeared. Before she had thought him regal, but now the effect was magnified manyfold. It was as though he was some great warrior emperor out of legends. Even knowing it was from the collar she couldn’t ignore the effect. He seemed so incredibly masterful, and she felt small just being in his presence. She tried to look away, but her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. It took a concerted effort to focus on anything else. Even as she did, Kara could feel her gaze being drawn back to him. Somehow nothing else seemed worth looking at, as though he was now the most important thing in the room.

A smirk lit his face, but also relief. Almost as though he hadn’t been certain it would work.

“Gods damn you”, she cried, “I hope there’s a place saved for you in each of the eight hells.”

“Is that so?” The king chuckled. “That mouth will get you in trouble one of these days. I may have to do something about it. I think the main problem here is pride. You still don’t understand your new place, so I think we need another demonstration. Crawl. Crawl to me on your hands and knees.”

Once again, Kara felt the need throughout her. Every fiber of her body cried out to do as he commanded.

“Not this time”, she thought. She knew what was coming, and was ready to fight it. She refused to budge, drawing on all her strength and discipline. She stayed where she was. It took everything she had, just to stay there on her knees, but she did it. The command ate at her, like a terrible itch she yearned to scratch but dared not. Yet her resolve did not waver, and with every second she was more able to resist.

“Never!", she cried through gritted teeth.

The king’s eyes grew dark for a moment, allowing himself to show doubt. He quickly regained control over his emotions.

“Never? I doubt that very much. I’ve been too kind to you, but no more. Serving me personally is a privilege. One that you haven’t earned yet. If you want to attend me personally, and you will, then you have to ask for it. In time, you will be on your knees begging to me.

“You still suffer from an overabundance of pride. The guards will bring you to the servant quarters, where you’ll be put in the care of the headmistress of that wing. You are to serve her during your time there. She speaks for me.”

“Before you go, however”, the king continued with a leer. “I have one last command for you.”

The king walked over to her, whispering softly into her ear. She shivered at his words, her hands clenching into fists. He was so close. She wanted to reach out and hurt him, but couldn’t summon up the will to move her hands.

She was still seething as the guards led her out. Kara’s mind reeled from the effects of the collar, but she’d at least proven resistance was possible. Despite that, she knew she was still in a lot of trouble. The collar was effective and clearly an obstacle to escape. For the moment, she would have to bide her time and look for opportunities. The guards brought her down maze of corridors until they reached one of the servants’ wings, where she was placed into the care of a stern middle aged woman.

“Look at you. Utterly filthy. Well I’ll not have you mucking up my wing of the palace. We’ll have to get you bathed before we can do anything.”

Kara was ordered to strip. She still felt the need to obey, but it was weaker, not nearly so insistent as the king’s own commands. She took note of that. If she could resist a direct command, then these weaker ones were even safer. Now wasn’t the right moment to act, so she let herself be led to a tub of slightly murky bathwater. While the water was hardly pristine, used bathwater was still a step up from what she’d had the past couple days. It proved a relief. The water was at best lukewarm, but this did little to stop Kara. She’d been told to bathe, and for the first time she agreed with the collar. As she ducked her head beneath the water to wash her hair, she vaguely hoped that the water would do something to the collar. But it was a slim hope, and when she was ordered out of the bath she could feel that it was unaffected.

She quickly dried off, then given only a short cotton shift to wear.

“We’ll begin your work in the morning. For now, you’re off to bed. I’m told you’re to be given a locked room. Count yourself lucky. That at least means you get a room to yourself.”

They led her down yet another winding corridor. Kara watched the guards. They had grown complacent, trusting that she would follow meekly. At an intersection, Kara saw her chance. As they rounded the corner, she bolted the opposite direction as fast as her legs could carry her. “Stop!” They shouted at her, “Come back here”. To Kara’s relief, she had been right. There was a pull from the commands, but they were easier to ignore than the ones from the king.

Kara easily outran the guards, and was soon around another bend and out of sight. But as she ran, the collar became more insistent. She had been ordered to serve in the domestic wing, and running away went counter to that. Each step weighed on her more heavily, as the tug became increasingly intense.

At first it was like running through water, then through mud. Finally, she couldn’t bear it anymore, and collapsed to the ground. Kara tried to make herself continue, but the thought of taking even a step away seemed abhorrent. She finally gave in to the compulsion, and turned back the way she’d come.

She sheepishly walked back to her overseer and the guards. The woman looked angry, but left it for the moment.

“Do you understand your situation better now?", She asked Kara. “For now, we’ll let this serve as a lesson to you and leave it at that.”

Kara was brought to a small room with a stout door at its entrance. In the room was nothing more than a small bed and just enough room to stand next to it. Once she was inside, the guards closed the door and turned the lock. She was sure she could deal with the lock, so her first priority was the collar. She’d just had a firsthand demonstration of its power, and escape would clearly be impossible if she didn’t take care of it.

Sitting on the bed, she explored the collar to an extent she couldn’t under the watchful eyes of the guards. Despite the give she felt while moving and breathing, her fingers found little purchase. It would relax fine with her neck, but she couldn’t pull it away or loosen it at all. She felt behind her neck, searching for some type of clasp or latch, but there was nothing. In fact, the entire surface appeared totally seamless. Try as she might, she wasn’t making any progress. Panic welled up inside her. She clawed and tugged as hard as she could, but it all proved useless. In time she gave up and collapsed exhausted onto the bed.

As she settled in, her hands brushed the shift she was now wearing. It hadn’t been long since she’d been out on the field, hemmed in by the king’s forces but confident she’d find a way out. The soft, smooth cloth was so different from what she had worn then. Not that it was particularly expensive or elegant, but compared to a soldier’s clothes it appeared far finer. Of course, that was out of necessity. This soft fabric would not have lasted a week with the strain her old clothes had to endure.

Even as she thought this, her hands continued unconsciously tracing their way down the fabric. Before long, they reached the end and her fingers drifted onto her bare legs. There was a small shock as flesh met flesh, and almost of their own volition they slid back up her leg. Her reverie ended with a start as her fingers found their target.

Unconsciously, she began to play with herself, quickly building a trace of arousal. Caught off guard, she was unprepared when a new compulsion bubbled up from inside.

“I am a slave”. The words escaped before she could gather the will to stop it. Sweet gods, in her desperation she had somehow forgotten about the king’s final command. In her shock, the next phrase slipped through her mouth.

“Happiness comes from pleasing others.” A bust of pleasure accompanied each statement, driving her to new heights of bliss and throwing off her mental balance.

“I live to obey my masters.” She tried to clamp down and stop the commands, but it was so hard. Both the intent ministrations of her fingers, and the joy she felt at obeying made concentrating hard. Her resolve was quickly fading, and she wasn’t able to stop herself.

“I want to be a good slave.” She was now totally lost in the sensations, she couldn’t even want to resist anymore. Her hands busily explored her body. It drove her to new heights of arousal as she fulfilled the king’s final command. Each repetition sent a jolt of ecstasy through her, driving the lessons home while the words echoed through her mind.

“Yes, oh yes. I am a slave. Happiness comes from pleasing others. Ohhhhhh I live to obey my masters. Oh gods please, I want to be a good slave.”

“I am a slave! Happiness comes from pleasing others! I live to obey my masters! I want to be a good slave.”

Over and over, she repeated them. Yet as intense as the pleasure was, and as much as she wanted release, her orders would not allow it. Until exhaustion finally won out, she was lost in an unending sea of pleasure and obedience. And as she finally drifted off into sleep that night, she did so still unfulfilled, still repeating her master’s words.

I AM A SLAVE
HAPPINESS COMES FROM PLEASING OTHERS
I LIVE TO OBEY MY MASTERS
I WANT TO BE A GOOD SLAVE