The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Chapter 9

Asiara’s eyes fluttered open briefly, then immediately squinted shut as the sunlight threatened to blind her. Turning her face away from the open sky, she blinked a few times before sitting up, enjoying how her body still hummed with the afterglow of the climax she had just experienced. A bit dazed, she looked around her.

She was lying on a single large animal fur, surrounded by wounded soldiers in various states of distress. Some, she could see, were recovering from only minor wounds while others probably wouldn’t see the night. A course robe had been draped over her naked body, but seemed somehow superfluous to her now. After all, her troops had to be pretty used to seeing her naked.

Surrounding this small, makeshift medical area was a great deal of bustle as the remaining troops worked to pile the dead into two piles—the pile of Annol warriors who would be honored, and the pile of Maurials who would be left to the crows. Despite the size of both piles, Asiara felt a wave of elation – her army had somehow survived the fight that had appeared so hopeless the night before.

But had they merely survived the combat, or had they won a major victory over their fiercest rivals? And how many of her troops were left? Thinking back to the battle that had taken place the night before, she remembered that Calean had fallen, leaving her with no experienced mage. And the size of the pile suggested that her warriors were severely depleted. What about Partheon? Had he survived? Asiara was ready to find out.

Rising, Asiara spoke to the first soldier that she found.

“Is Partheon around somewhere?”

The young soldier stood at attention upon seeing her, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Y-yes, Captain,” the young man was clearly startled, whether by her nakedness or her authority she wasn’t sure. “He’s on the north side of the camp, sorting through the remaining provisions.”

“Thank you.” Asiara strode through the camp, drawing astonished stares from her men as they noticed her. As she made her way through the camp, she saw the wreckage that it had become. Most of the tents had burned to the ground, leaving only charred remains of the weapons and food, and in some cases people, that had once been inside.

When she reached the northern edge she saw Partheon standing next to a small pile of food and water skins. Three soldiers were helping to load these onto a couple of battered carts while Partheon watched and seemed to be taking stock of what was available. When Asiara approached, he looked up and his expression immediately became a battle ground of conflicting emotions.

“Damn you, Asiara! I… Look, what you did last night was amazing… I mean, we never should have been here… I told you we were vulnerable… But, we won… We beat the bastards, left them scrambling for the hills. But look what’s left… If you had only…”

He continued to stare at her for a few more moments, his look stern. Then, slowly, his expression softened.

“Ah, hell, I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

“Thanks, I guess. So the Maurials are gone?”

“Gone, dead, fleeing. Our losses were heavy, but theirs were off the charts. Once you took down their Captain and their strongest mage, they sort of fell apart. It was strange. They had been so completely organized and united when the fighting started, but once those two were gone they seemed to panic – any sense of fighting together seemed to disappear.”

“Well, thankfully we still had you to keep it all together once I passed out.”

“Indeed. Although I didn’t do much. Most of the credit belongs to the soldiers. Our guys seemed to band together like they never had before. It was quite a sight to behold.”

“I wish I had been able to see it. So how are we doing now?”

“That’s what I was just figuring out when you arrived. We’re pretty low on provisions, I’m afraid. Not that we’ll need that many… with how few men are left.”

“Well, let’s take a look.” Asiara walked towards the carts to glance at what her soldiers had managed to salvage. Partheon continued to give her an odd look.

“Um, Asiara?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve gotten pretty used to you being naked, but are you going to wear that strange mask all day?”

The mask! Asiara had forgotten all about it. Somehow, it didn’t feel like she was wearing anything on her face. No wonder she had gotten such strange looks from her troops. Reaching up, she could feel its cool silver surface under her fingers. With the slightest of pulls, it came away from her face, but oddly, her skin felt no different. She turned the mask over in her hands, looking at the magical item that had saved her life the night before. This mask, she remembered, had protected her from the mage’s spells and allowed her to end his life.

As she stared at the metal mask, though, she noticed something odd. She distinctly remembered that when she had reached for the mask in the heat of battle, it had been completely plain – a simple oval with holes for the eyes and mouth. But now, it’s shape had changed slightly. The cheeks had sunk in just a bit, giving the mask a bit of definition. The mouth hole had closed slightly, and the beginning of a pair of lips seemed to be rising out of the metal.

Puzzling over this, Asiara set the mask on the ground and began helping Partheon take stock of what was left of the army’s supplies.

There wasn’t much left. When they were finished, Asiara realized that they would have to be on a very tight rationing system for the rest of their journey. More importantly, she realized that that journey would have to be a return trek to the Queen’s palace. The Maurial army was defeated, but there was no hope of pressing their advantage and invading the southern kingdom, as they would likely starve in the process. Besides, according to Partheon’s rough head count, they didn’t have enough soldiers to launch any full scale assault.

Asiara discussed with Partheon the plans of their march back to the Queen and then took her leave. He would organize the troops and get them on the move. Meanwhile, she had to get her own things together and take a moment to collect herself after everything that had happened in the last few days.

Before she walked away, though, she picked up the mask and, finding it slightly awkward to hold in her hands, placed it back on her face as she walked. This would elicit more strange looks, but it might also add to her mystique. Her days of fitting in with the troops were clearly long gone, but if she could supplement her recent prowess on the battle field with an eccentric and intimidating presence off of it, she was sure she would still command their respect, and their loyalty.

And this loyalty might be put to the test slightly, given the outcome of this campaign. Asiara was supposed to be a military genius and nearly unbeatable warrior. But this campaign had not gone at all according to plan. The battle with the Persiphi had been far more costly than anyone would have anticipated, and then she had left her army extremely vulnerable to the Maurial’s assault.

Still there were some positives. The victory over the Maurials had been a significant one, and if they did return to the Queen, they would be able to restock and get some reinforcements. Then, the march through the southern kingdom would be easy. They would have fresh supplies and new troops, and a Captain fortified with a host of new abilities.

Yes, you will be unstoppable.

There was that voice again, although it seemed ever so slightly different than it had during the battle. Then, it had been oddly monotonic, with a strange sort of metallic ring to it. Now, she noticed an ever so subtle femininity to the voice.

After all of the strange things that had been happening to her lately, though, this one seemed somewhat tame, and she decided to ignore it for the time being. Instead, began to walk through the area where the battle had taken place. Her soldiers had already cleared the area of most of the dead bodies, and were now starting to sort through the weapons that were still strewn over the area, searching for what was salvageable.

Asiara did the same, but she was only looking for two specific blades. It wasn’t long before she found them. Moments after procuring a belt from a nearby officer, she strapped Phyxilir and Finisher around her waist. Armed once again, Asiara felt complete.

And powerful.

She had the speed, agility, and swordsmanship of a goddess. Her body was impervious to physical attacks – they simply passed through her as if her body were made of water. And now, as long as she wore this mask, magic would have no effect on her.

You are the ultimate power in the realm.

She grinned beneath the mask, which she suspected was the source of the voice. What it spoke was true, so she had no reason to be alarmed.

But there was another new truth that Asiara found herself perpetually wrestling with. Her sexual appetite had grown right along with her powers. Even now, as she focused on the very real tasks before her, she could already feel the familiar throbbing in her loins that seemed to be perpetually with her.

The day continued, and the troops continued to work hard. By the time evening had arrived, the dead had been collected in piles, the munitions carts were packed and ready to move, and the troops had organized into new units of command. Everything was ready for them to set out first thing in the morning. For now, they would burn the massive funeral pyre of their dead, and then try to rest before beginning their journey back to the palace.

When Asiara finally laid down under the open sky to rest, she pulled the mask off of her face. The night air was cool, but she still slept uncovered. The cool air, she reasoned, might help to douse her desires, which were once again building within her. Unfortunately, the brisk air and cooling breeze weren’t enough. The cold only further tightened her already hard nipples, and the heat that seemed to radiate from her sex was impervious to the night’s chill.

Still, the exhaustion resulting from everything that happened recently eventually caught up with her, and she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, she woke early. The sun had just risen over the hilly countryside, and only a few of her soldiers were already awake. Asiara felt her sex quiver slightly, but decided to ignore it. Sitting up, she reached for the mask, but found that it wasn’t there. She looked around, but it was nowhere to be found.

Had someone stolen it!

No one would dare steal from you.

Asiara’s hands flew to her face, and sure enough, there it was. But she was sure that she had taken it off before going to sleep. She pulled it off now, and looked at the strange object.

Once again, it had changed. The plain oval shape was now a thing of the past – the mask had clearly become more defined. Instead of a simple hole, the mask had a set of lips, and the center of the mask had begun to shape itself into a slender, delicate nose. The eyes had recessed slightly, creating a discernable brow, and a set of cheek bones seemed to be emerging as well.

After everything that happened recently, Asiara was immediately wary of the mask. She certainly valued its power, but she wasn’t in the mood to trust a power that she didn’t understand, especially one that seemed capable of entering her mind. Suddenly feeling quite resolute, Asiara became determined to regain some sense of her former self; some sense of normalcy.

Still holding the mask, she walked to a nearby cart and pulled out a few articles of clothing: a pair of sandals, a light shirt, and some simple breeches. Using Finisher, she cut most of the legs off of the breeches, as they were designed for someone taller than she. It was going to be a warm day anyway. Then, she pulled a piece of cloth from the cart’s canopy and looped it through one of the mask’s eye holes. She then tied the cloth to her belt. This way she could keep the mask close to her without having to wear it.

Shortly thereafter, her soldiers were all up, and ready to be on the move. Asiara mounted one of the few remaining horses, and the remains of her army started the long march back to the Queen’s palace: about a five day trek.

Asiara felt good riding at the front of her army once again. It felt as though she were back in control, which was something she hadn’t felt for the past several days. But she was done with strange goddesses and mysterious water nymphs. She was back in her element. She had defeated her foes on the battlefield, and now would return to get the forces she needed to make her victory complete.

As good as her return to her usual behaviors felt, though, there was still one nagging problem that preyed constantly on her mind. With each step that her horse took, the saddle moved beneath her, creating subtle friction on the sensitive skin between her legs. Her sex tingled incessantly, driving her to distraction.

The warmth of the weather wasn’t helping, either. She had begun to sweat, causing her black curls to plaster themselves to her skin, and her white shirt to cling to her body, exposing her hard, aroused nipples. She had hoped to convince her remaining troops that the old Asiara was back, but realized that right now, with her cut-off pants and clinging shirt, she was probably a more erotic sight than she would have been had she still been completely naked.

As frustrating as this thought was, though, it was also a huge turn-on.

By evening Asiara was beside herself. Yet, after they had made camp and she was lying alone, once again under the stars, she refused to touch herself. She was sleeping in her clothes, with the mask still tied to her side, and trying her hardest not to succumb to her desires. She couldn’t keep letting this constant need control her. She was determined to learn to live in this state of arousal and only give in to her passions when she chose. For now, it meant a fitful, sleepless night, but, eventually it would surely allow her to feel in control of her body once again.

The next day the weather hadn’t changed. Not wanting her army to be lead by the sweaty vision of eroticism that she had been the day before, Asiara found a baggy pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt that was slightly big on her as well. Then, she placed a helm over her head. With these instruments on, there would be no way that her troops would be able to think of her in an erotic manner.

The outfit had the added benefit of being stiflingly hot. The discomfort that this heavy attire caused was welcome because it helped to distract Asiara from the heat between her legs. Though the throbbing in her sex never let up, the dense sweat coating her body and the high temperature beneath her helm somehow diffused her passions and made it far easier for her to keep her mind off of her desire for sexual release.

That night was equally positive, in Asiara’s mind. She had removed her helm, but otherwise kept the same clothes on that she had worn all day. The mask remained tied to her belt – it was becoming a constant weight as familiar to her as her two swords, which also never left her side. As the night wore on, Asiara found that she was able to sleep quite well, ignoring the ache in her sex as she finally claimed the rest that she needed so badly.

The third day of the march, the weather changed. The air was still hot and filled with a dense humidity, but clouds loomed in the distance, and the threat of storm was imminent. Still, the army plodded on – their supplies wouldn’t allow for delay, they had to press on even if the storm bore down on them directly.

As they followed a path around a tall outcropping of rock, Asiara began to feel the first warning drops of rain. In the distance, she could hear the deep rolling of thunder. She trained her ears in the direction of the sound, trying to gauge how far away the storm might be. Listening intently as she was, her ears also picked up another sound: soft, magical chanting.

“Take cover!” Asiara screamed. But it was too late. From atop the rock outcropping a ball of fire streaked down, only to burst right in the middle of the line of Annol troops. Before the soldiers could react, another spell struck – this one a bolt of magical energy that reduced a group of young warriors to ashes immediately.

Asiara frantically tugged at the strings holding the mask to her belt. Once she had freed it, she placed the mask over her face. Feeling utterly invincible, she jumped off her horse and began scaling the rock as quickly as her powerful body would allow. The mage that was casting these spells was clearly quite powerful—to cast two such powerful spells in quick succession would be something only the most adept spell casters in the realm could do.

But you have no reason to fear. No spell can harm you.

Asiara grinned to hear the voice again – a voice that was now clearly feminine in nature, and also strangely familiar. But Asiara had other things to think about at the moment.

When she reached the top of the outcropping, Asiara drew her swords, ready to strike. But she hesitated for just a moment out of surprise. Standing before her, just a few yards away, was the auburn-haired woman! Smiling broadly, Asiara relished the moment. Finally, she would have her revenge, and as long as she wore the mask there was nothing this woman could do to defend herself. Asiara heard the woman start to chant, but knew that whatever spell she fired at Asiara would have no effect.

Ignoring the magical words, Asiara lunged, swinging both of her swords, ready to feel the sweet sensation of metal slicing through skin and bone. She was even prepared to revel in the climax that she imagined would erupt out of her as a result of her bloodlust.

But her sword passed through air. The spell that the woman had been casting wasn’t an offensive spell directed at Asiara, it was a teleportation spell. The woman had vanished.

Asiara practically wept in frustration – and the frustration was dual in nature. She was angry that this woman continued to elude her. But even more enraging was the sexual frustration that coursed through her. For those moments that her blades had swept through the air, she had been filled with anticipation – she would yield to her passions, and achieve the release that her body had been craving for two days now.

But she had been denied, and now all of that pent up energy had bubbled to the surface. She felt as though she were just on the brink of climax, but could do nothing to achieve it. Dropping to her knees, she considered bringing herself off right there on the outcropping, but she wasn’t confident that she could even do it. This level of frustration seemed like something that needed more than simple masturbation to satisfy.

Asiara gulped in several deep breaths and tried to collect herself. Her troops, after all, must be busy trying to get things back in order, and tend to the men who had been killed in that brief skirmish. Pulling herself together, Asiara climbed back down the rock.

The casualties were thankfully minimal, although the Annol army had been depleted enough that any loss was significant. After quickly burning their dead, the remaining force resumed its trek.

They hadn’t traveled for more than a quarter of mile before the storm started to hit in force. Rain pelted down on them, and the sky was lit with flashes of lightning. The thunder boomed all around them.

But Asiara pressed on, hardly noticing the extreme weather, for an even stronger, more violent storm was raging within her. Her need for climax was continuing to claim her thoughts, and each clap of thunder seemed to send vibrations surging through her impossibly sensitive body. She had struggled to control her desires, but she knew that she was reaching a breaking point. She would have to do something soon.

That night, her forces did their best to set up camp in the still driving rain. They had traveled for several hours in the wet conditions, and everyone was eager to find some cover and try to rest.

Asiara, though, had no such plans. As the storm continued to rage around them, Asiara walked away from her troops. She had tried so hard for these past few days to convince her troops that she was back to her old ways – something that bringing herself off in the middle of camp wouldn’t allow. Still, there was no need to try to find a private area – once she had walked several meters away from the camp, the heavy rain would limit visibility and dampen sound so much that no one would be aware of what she was doing.

Rolling her animal skin out to protect herself from the mud, Asiara practically tore her clothes off. She unbuckled her belt and left it, along with her swords, lying on the edge of the skin. Then, lying on her back, she took a few moments to revel in the feel of the rain as it teased her sensitive skin. She could feel the droplets as they fell upon her breasts – dancing over her nipples. Rivulets of water ran over her sex, causing her to moan loudly, even as the thunder seemed to moan back.

Then, she let her hands begin to trace over her body. She massaged the rain water into her breasts, letting the sensations wash over her, screaming in delight as she finally gave in to the feelings that had been churning within her.

That’s it, let it go. Let yourself feel good.

The mask! Asiara only now realized that she had never taken it off after her encounter with the auburn haired woman. How had she not realized this before?

But her mind wasn’t prepared to answer such questions now. She let her left hand trail over her stomach, caressing, teasing. As her fingers approached her sex, she arched her back, her body craving stimulation even as she teased herself. The sky suddenly lit up as lightning arched through the clouds and, as it did so, Asiara’s fingers brushed over her sex, her moans once again mingling with the thunder that rolled over her.

It feels so good. Feel your passion. Let it guide you. Let it control you.

Asiara knew that there was something strange about this voice – about this mask. But she was beyond thinking about it. That voice – so familiar underneath its slightly metallic qualities – was helping her, coaxing her towards the orgasm that she so desperately needed. Her hand was moving more quickly now, and she could feel her muscles starting to tense as release grew steadily closer.

Wave after wave of pleasure careened through her, causing her to moan deeply. She arched her back, thrusting her hips high into the air, stroking herself all the while. Ready to reach climax. Ready to let go.

But the orgasm wouldn’t come.

Asiara closed her eyes and moaned in long, torturous frustration. So much sexual energy and need were building up inside her, but no matter how desperately she pleasured herself, she could find no release; no satisfaction. The rain continued to pour down on her, stimulating her sensitive skin. The thunder rolled across her, sending deep vibrations into her that only pushed her further. But none of it was enough. Nothing could give her the climax that she craved.

Lost in her frantic struggle to bring herself the relief that she needed, Asiara began thrashing on the fur that she had placed beneath her. Another deep, penetrating wave of pleasure radiated through her, bringing her right to the brink of orgasm, only to once again leave her heaving in frustration.

At that moment, another flash of lightning struck quite close. The bright light coaxed Asiara to open her eyes to just slits, as the erotic energy continued to course through her. Somehow, through her haze of lust and desperate, craving need, she recognized a shadow: someone was approaching her!

Beware! You are so vulnerable right now.

The voice was right. Pulling herself together, Asiara tried to ignore the quaking in her thighs and the heaving of her breath to look into the torrential rain and try to spot what she had just seen. It was difficult to make out any shapes in the rain, and her lust filled mind found it difficult to focus on anything but the yearning that had spread from her sex to engulf her entire body.

But that is exactly when she would strike, isn’t it?

The voice was right. The auburn-haired woman could be nearby, and she seemed to know how to take advantage of Asiara’s vulnerabilities. Stifling her moans, Asiara reached for her swords, drawing Finisher out of its sheath.

At just that moment, another flash of lightning struck nearby. This time, there was no mistaking it – a figure was moving towards Asiara as she lay prone on the fur.

Don’t wait for her trickery. Kill her now, while you have the chance!

The voice might as well have been Asiara’s own – pulling her shaky legs beneath her, Asiara lunged forward and thrust Finisher towards the approaching figure with all of her might. She half expected the auburn-hair woman to have some trick at the ready; to somehow evade or deflect Asiara’s attack, so the warrior woman was thrilled when she felt her blade penetrate flesh and sink deep into her victim.

And as it did so, climax finally came to Asiara. She and her victim both fell backwards, away from each other – one in death, the other in sexual ecstasy. Asiara’s entire body quivered as the pleasure raced through her, exploding all over her. Lightning continued to strike, and thunder continued to roll, and both only added to the intense, overwhelming pleasure that claimed Asiara’s body and mind. The dead body lying a few feet away disappeared from her thoughts. All Asiara could think of now was pleasure, passion, ecstasy.

The intensity of her pleasure filled her for quite some time. Her body thrashed and writhed in rapture, and her mind could conceive only of how powerful and wonderful her release was. She moaned continuously, bucking her hips and thrusting her pelvis into the air as her hands once again went to her sex, driving her into a still more fervent frenzy.

Come again. And again. Feel the passion flood through you. Feel it empower you. It makes you invincible.

Yes, she did feel invincible. She was enveloped in sensations of pleasure so thick that nothing could penetrate them. Over and over and over the climaxes came, more frequently than she had ever imagined possible.

Revel in your passions. They make you powerful. They make you unstoppable.

Yes, she was unstoppable.

As her pleasure began to slowly dissipate, Asiara began to have thoughts of something other than her climax. And this last thought continued to ring in her ears, in her own words. She was unstoppable.

The ultimate power in the realm.

A clap of thunder seemed to drive this point home. With the afterglow of her climaxes warming her, giving her a sensation of radiant warmth and satisfaction, this phrase swirled within her, stirring something; something she hadn’t felt for… a while.

Passion is a measure of your power. No one can resist.

No one. She was impervious to weapons, immune to magic, the most gifted swordswoman in the land.

More powerful than even the Queen.

Struggling to focus on the rain that fell around her, Asiara felt a wave of dizziness overtake her at that thought – was it a thought, or something the mask was telling her? Regardless, it was true. Why was Asiara submitting to her Queen’s commands?

Why would someone so powerful submit to anyone’s commands?

Asiara could defeat any foe. She could take on any force in the realm. She was all-powerful!

The kingdom should be yours.

Yes. The Queen must fall, just as her assailant had just fallen minutes ago. Remembering the shape that approached her, Asiara turned towards it. She was struck by the body’s size – she had been expecting the slim grace of the auburn-haired woman, but this was not a feminine body – it was the body of a large and powerful man.

Fear began to grip Asiara as realization dawned on her. Taking the few steps needed to reach the body, she dropped to her knees and looked to see whom she had just felled with her sword.

Another flash of lightning confirmed her worst fears: lying dead before her was Partheon.

Why had she acted so impulsively? Sure, her thoughts had been clouded by her lust, but if she had the collection necessary to draw her blade and attack, then surely she should have been able to realize that she needed to take a moment to know who was approaching her. She was the leader of an army of men, after all. There were any number of reasons that one of her soldiers might try to seek her out. So why had she acted so quickly? Especially given her resistance to any form of attack that she could imagine?

As thunder rolled over her again, the answer became clear. The mask! That voice had been inside her head, blending with her thoughts. It had convinced her that the person approaching was a threat; that she needed to act quickly before it could attack her.

But the mask also provided protection. Besides, without the kill, climax would never have come.

Those words seemed to come unbidden into Asiara’s mind, almost as if they were no longer coming from without – they were her own words, yet she knew that they were not her thoughts. Glancing down at Partheon’s blank stare – the expression of surprise and pain still frozen on his lifeless face – Asiara felt a surge of anger and willpower enter her mind. Reaching towards her face, she pulled the mask away from her skin.

Holding it in her hands, she looked down at the silver shape of the mask, even as the rain that now fell on her exposed cheeks for the first time tonight made it difficult to make out its features. This mask granted her such power, yet it seemed to have a mind of its own – a mind that sought to control Asiara’s own thoughts. She looked at Partheon’s dead body again, the full impact of what she had done now crashing into her mind.

But the sensation was odd. She was horrified to have acted with such recklessness. She was intensely aware of the consequences of losing such a loyal and talented officer. She was already beginning to wonder how she would explain this to her remaining soldiers – a group that must, by now, be questioning the sanity of their Captain.

But amidst all of her feelings, one that she had expected to feel was oddly missing. She felt very little personal anguish. She felt saddened, in the same that she always lamented the death of someone she served with, but no more. Surely Partheon’s death should be affecting her more severely. After all, he had served her for… she couldn’t quite recall how long, but she knew that he had been her primary military advisor for as long as she had commanded the Annol army. And yet she was only mourning him as she would a relatively new acquaintance.

Could this be the mask’s doing? Was it robbing her of her emotions even as it sought to control her? But that didn’t seem to make sense. After all, it seemed to be its very use of her emotions that had led her to kill Partheon. What was she to make of this mask? What was it doing to her? Still holding it in her hands, she looked down at it once again.

Lightning flashed on the horizon in front of her, its light glinting off the metal in Asiara’s hands. The warrior woman gasped at what that light revealed: staring back at Asiara in cold silver, was a perfect mold, a perfect simulacrum, of Asiara’s own sultry, beautiful face! Suddenly it struck her – the voice she had been hearing when wearing the mask, the voice that she had struggled to place due to its slightly metallic ring, had been her own.

Had the thoughts been her own as well? Was she more powerful than the Queen? Could she become the ruler of the kingdom? Once again, the world seemed to spin as these thoughts entered her mind, but still, she didn’t shy away from them. Why couldn’t she overthrow the Queen? Who would stop her?

Asiara looked down at the mask once again, then turned her eyes to Partheon’s lifeless body, lying still in the heavy rain. Her reaction to his death remained strikingly emotionless. “No,” she thought, “my reaction to his death wasn’t emotionless. At the time of his death, it was filled with passion! The mask allowed me to unleash the passion that had been building in me these past days.”

With her head spinning, she looked back to the mask in her hands. Her own eyes, her own sultry mouth, her own beautiful, impassioned face, looked back at her. Shaking, Asiara felt the temptation flow through her. And why shouldn’t it? The mask made her powerful. The mask gave her pleasure. It was her own face that it had adopted – her own voice. It didn’t control her, she controlled it.

Turning it around in her hands, she slowly raised the mask back to her face. As she felt the metal come into contact, once again, with her cheeks, her chin, and her forehead, she felt a deep, yearning passion flood her senses. But with it came another sensation – energy seemed to spring up around her, thrilling her body, charging her with lust anew. Her muscles began to spasm of their own volition, and the air around her seemed to crackle with power.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning arched through the sky, striking Asiara. Her vision was blinded with white-hot, electric energy. Her entire body quaked and convulsed as the electricity raced through her, filling her with a wholly knew, but no less pleasurable sensation of erotic rapture. In that bolt of lightning she felt all of her passion, all of her capacity for pleasure, coalesce and race through her in a blinding flash of pure, intense sensation. Her eyes rolled back in her head and every muscle quaked and shook as the power coursed through her.

And then, just quickly as it had arrived, it was gone. Asiara collapsed to the ground, and felt nothing more…