The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Little Indians

Chapter 19 – Embracing the enemy

Tsanja awoke as the sun streamed through her window.

At first, she thought it was a normal day, and she was ready to steel herself, to go to the Church, to perform her useless duties, to find out more about Lilith.

Perhaps Poe would come to visit.

Tsanja was not sure about Poe, about whether to trust her or not. Her stories of the Felthings were outlandish, but Tsanja knew that terrible things were abroad in the land.

Her new pet, the night-wing, was wrapped around her midriff. It was large, like an apron, and warmed her. She stroked its soft fur, and it moved, pleasing her with small undulations, and vibrated with a sort of purr.

As full awareness returned, a dull, painful ache came with it. She remembered all of the students she had lost, and all of her abortive attempts to find them before her memories of them had been hidden.

Reaching up to her neck, she realised that her choker charm was gone.

When had that happened?

Her bed, too, was a mess, and the sheets she was sleeping in were spotted with blood.

How had that happened? She did not feel pain, just the sadness of her returned memories.

Had someone been injured here?

Oh, no.

She felt her stomach.

The bump was gone.

Her baby was gone.

Oh, dear gods, no … What had become of her baby?

There was movement at her foot of the bed, and a strange creature arose. It had a black hood, rather like the night-wing she had around herself, but this hood was not alive. It had been sewn, and fitted tightly around the creature’s head and eyes. All Tsanja could see of it that looked alive was the lower part of its face, its red lips.

Tsanja contemplated it with a sense of horror. It could be a Felthing, Tsanja supposed, but what was it doing here?

It hissed slightly, and showed her its claws.

She was being guarded, but why?

Tsanja knew that she would need to find some protection again. She looked around her bed, slowly, trying not to arouse the suspicions of the Felthing.

She found a black leather bag under the little table next to her bed. It was one of Poe’s.

Why had she left it here?

Tsanja looked inside, and saw that it contained dozens of choker charms.

None of them looked like hers.

She picked a nice looking one, probably one of Madeleine’s, and fastened it around her neck.

The effects were mixed.

She felt some relief as the memory of her lost students, and, with it, the evidence of her outright failure, faded away.

The night-wing released her midriff, and slid away from her body, and regarded her. It looked like it wanted to return, but seemed to be wary of the choker charm. It just curled up on the bed, hoping that Tsanja would return eventually.

Tsanja soon realised where all of the blood had come from. She was bleeding, and she saw blood on the night-wing’s muzzle. Real pain returned to her then, and Tsanja knew then that she was hurt, that she had been raped, or injured.

The small pleasure of waking to a sunny morning had become something else, and Tsanja was beginning to the feel stark terror of the unknown.

The tiny maw of the night-wing had not caused this.

She must have been unconscious for a very long time, or her mind was playing tricks on her. Sometimes shock could cause amnesia, she knew that. Had she been raped? Had the rape unbalanced her mind? Would her memory of last night’s events ever return?

Tears prickled her eyes, and Tsanja wept, wept for her helplessness, wept with the pain of her injuries. Most of all, she wept because she felt alone.

She doubted that anyone loved her now, but it was worth a try.

“Penn, Penn, Penn, can you hear me?”

She was so relieved when she heard his voice thrice repeating her name.

“Tsanja, we are safe now. Pamela says that if you can come to the cave near the old oak tree, then you can be safe too. Your mother is waiting for you at her house, and you can come here through the wooden chest. It is dangerous for her now, she might not stay. Try not to be followed.

So, Penn was with Lilith, too. Was she the last free soul left? So much for protecting the village!

She could not think of any way in which she could have been any more ineffectual than she was.

As they continued to talk, it soon became apparent that much of what Penn said to her made little sense. She convinced him to slow down, and he began to help her reconstruct her memories of the last few days of her life.

Penn explained to her everything which they had seen in the mirror, and although she felt strangely relieved to rediscover all of the horrible things that Hypatia had done to her, Tsanja could not help feeling annoyed that so many people had been spying on her solitary existence.

It was strange listening to Penn tell of what had happened last night. For months Tsanja had been the bearer of news to Penn, and it was unusual to be on the receiving end for a change. Tsanja had no memory whatsoever of the events that Penn told her had occurred, but she knew that Penn told the truth.

The Felthings had stripped out a puppet from her flesh, something dead and gruesome, but they were looking for a baby.

Why? She could not remember being pregnant. Had she been carrying a baby?

“Tsanja, I know it will be hard for you, but Pamela wants you to help us. Can you find out all you can about the Felthings? If we don’t do something, the Church will use them to enslave the world, and the lives of the Healers will be forfeit. Please, we must do all we can for them.”

By now, Tsanja had lost any sense of loyalty to her Church. The only thing left to her was her love for those souls in Lilith’s care. She would do what she could for them, and for the poor healers. She simply did not know what to think about Lilith, but she could not solve all of the world’s problems.

One problem at a time would be more than enough.

She could think of only one way to learn about the hated Felthings, but it made her stomach turn. Aside from the horror of what they had tried to do to her, she blanched at the thought of what they had planned to do to her family, and the sick pleasure that Hypatia took in their feasting. She had heard from Penn about the horror of their nakedness, but had no wish to rediscover it in the flesh, so to speak.

Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Tsanja arose from her bed, slowly. She still felt wounded, and still she bled. The Felthing faced her warily, and licked its red lips. Tsanja shuffled towards it. It didn’t react. She was no threat, and had no chance of escape.

She reached her hand up to the Felthing’s head to feel the hood. The Felthing bent its head towards her, like a cat, wanting to be stroked. The hood was stuck fast. It had become part of the Felthing, a shackle around its mind. She put one hand inside its robe, and felt one poor, damaged breast. The Felthing’s face looked quite young, as if she had been a woman in her twenties, but the breast tissue was saggy, the skin slack, no muscle underneath to support it.

The Felthing hissed, softly, and moved to increase its contact with Tsanja’s hand. Tsanja obliged, and released the sheet she was holding around herself. She wrapped her arms underneath the Felthing’s cloak, and held herself against its dead flesh.

The Felthing bent its head down, and held Tsanja, gently.

It did not breathe, and Tsanja began to feel chill as her own body heat warmed up the Felthing’s lack of it.

An intimacy seemed to arise with this single Felthing, and she began to feel at one with its flesh. Her skin crawled, but she felt the boundary blur between the Felthing’s identity and herself.

So much of this world’s magic relied on the soul. This must be how they took people from the demon. The Felthings could get their hooks into a soul, and hold it in a woman’s body while they ripped out the flesh of the demon. It must be a horribly painful process.

Without the hoods, Tsanja felt sure that these poor women’s souls would flee into the darkness, to be gathered, leaving nothing but their pale, dead flesh behind.

There was no need for pain now. Tsanja found herself swimming in the Felthing’s awareness, and was able to look upon the memories of all that the Felthing had had seen.

The most immediate memories were of pain, and screams, and hunger assuaged. The Felthing had feasted from the belly of healing women in Solveig. The healers shared a large building, a hospital, in the city, where they would help anyone who needed them.

When the Church decided to move against the healers, they had brought all of their Felthings to visit the hospital in the dead of night. There was no chance of escape. The Felthings first blocked all the exits, and then began to work their way through each room, systematically.

It had taken hours, and Hypatia followed them, and directed them, as much a faithful mascot as a leader.

The Felthing did not feel for the women, the shackles on its mind were too strong. It loved to feel the touch of human flesh, and it hungered for the taste of demon flesh, which energised its physical body.

It turned to the memory of its first conquest.

She was a young mother, and was suckling a baby at her breast as her door was opened. She could do little as the Felthings surrounded her, and held her as Hypatia pulled her baby from her grasp. Hypatia left the room, and the distraught mother was left sobbing until she returned, without the baby, only minutes later.

Tsanja could see the terror on her face as she was laid back on the bed and taken, the screams of pain as the demon was devoured from her belly, and her horror as she saw the Felthings produce the hood to put over her eyes. The heavy cloth was tied tight around her head, her vision was blocked, and she struggled uselessly against the Felthing’s soft, but unrelenting, grip.

The wounds to her midriff were terrible, and she was losing much blood, but Tsanja knew that the binding of the choker charms was absolute. They protected the soul, and nothing could rend her soul from her body while she wore the charm.

It was not until the Felthing ripped the choker charm from her neck that the hood was able to do its cruel work. The terror vanished from her face as it sealed her thoughts in bands of iron, and her tongue licked at her lips as they turned to the deepest red, and then it grew. Although blinded by the hood, she became aware of her surroundings, and found the mouth of the nearest Felthing, and they kissed, beginning to share their feelings, their thoughts, their very being.

Even as her soul was bound, her body was not. The Felthings feasted on the blood and fluids that leaked from her abdomen, and, as they withdrew, her flesh was white, and bloodless. The ragged hole in her body was clean. Hypatia threw the healer’s choker charm into the her fire, and as the red stone, and black leather, caught, the fire flared white until they were consumed.

Tsanja felt herself beginning to become part of the Felthing’s world, and could understand the temptations which had warped Hypatia, allowing her to revel in the Felthing’s sensual cruelty. She tried to withdraw from the Felthing’s grasp, but it held her tighter, and pressed its flesh into her nakedness. The hooks that the Felthing was placing into her soul were striking deeply into her, and she found herself becoming aroused, desperately wanting to draw the repellent thing even closer. The Felthing kissed her then, with those red, red, lips, and its tongue extended. She had no demon for the Felthing to consume, but its hunger was rising, and Tsanja guessed that it would not be long before it wanted to taste her flesh.

How could this end with anything other than her death? There was no hood to break its grip on her soul, and it would soon begin to feast on her blood and flesh. If it ripped off her choker charm, she would be left defenceless, and her soul would bleed out of her body, into the mystery of the Trinity, beyond this physical world.

Tsanja could do only one thing. The choker charm had released the night-wing. Would it do the same for the Felthing’s cloak? She reached up to her neck, untied her own choker, and gently tied it around the neck of the Felthing.

The effect was immediate.

The black hood released its grip on the Felthing’s head, and billowed as it fell to the floor. The Felthing soon followed it down, like a sack of potatoes.

It was bald. No hair adorned its head. The thing had no eyes, only white skin covered its eye-sockets. It shook its head, it tried to speak.

“Ohhhh, nooooo, ohhhhh, nooooo, thowwwwy, thowwy, thowwy ...”

It sniffed the air, and tried to crawl towards Tsanja, but Tsanja moaned, backing away in horror.

The thing withdrew immediately, and sat itself against her bed, whereupon it buried its head in its hands, and wept, although no tears would ever emerge from her ruined face..

“I am thooo, thoooo, sorry. Fokiv meeee ...”

Tsanja could see that the Felthing’s mind had been restored. She forced herself to go to the revolting thing, and she held it in her arms as they both sobbed. The Felthing was human again, but only just. Her body had been horribly damaged, and must still have the memories of all of those horrific rapes in her mind. How could Tsanja restore any semblance of normality?

“You poor dear, you poor thing. None of this is your fault, please, remember that. You have been used most terribly, I know. What is your name, my girl?”

The Felthing went silent for a time, and remembered.

“Ewenor. Ewenor ith my name.”

“Eleanor, thank you. My name is Tsanja. You have given us all hope.”

They held each other in silence for a time, neither knowing where this would lead now. Eleanor whispered, and tried to speak carefully, still with that horrible tongue in her mouth.

“Tsanja, priestess, I am dead, I know it. My soul is bound, but my body is dead. Please do not judge me, but I want to release my soul to Lilith. You would have me give my soul to the Trinity, but I cannot. You have seen how badly the Sisters have treated us.

“But first, I need to save my own sisters. I need to find more Lilith’s tears, more choker charms. Please, priestess, please, help me.”

Tsanja pulled out the choker charms from Poe’s bag. There were many.

Tsanja had not heard them called this before, and gave Eleanor one to hold.

“Are these Lilith’s tears?”

“Yes, Lilith makes the tears to keep her healers from her own hunger, and from those they heal. Each tear holds and protects the soul of a little one. They are precious, and rare. Only a virgin can bind the stone to the cord.”

Tsanja did not know where Poe had obtained them, but she could guess. Many of them must have been taken by Lilith when she took the villagers in Gynt. But where did the healers get the stones, and that black hide? Her mother had never shown her.

“What are you to do with them?”

“I must wear the hood again. It will not overwhelm me, not while I am wearing my charm, and I need it to see. It will prevent my own charm from being seen.

“Let me free my sisters, and let us deal with Hypatia. I believe that Lilith will be merciful with her, which is more than those in your precious church have been with the healers. It will be a better end than she should hope for.

“If I am successful, the world will change. The Felthings have taken many of the healers, and the rest are now in hiding. Anyone in the land that sickens has little hope now, and the Church can do nothing but say prayers for their souls as they die. Nobody respects the Church now in its vile deceptions, but nobody is brave enough to challenge their corrupt control.

“It is women like I was, the Felthings, who give the Church power now. The old ways, the mystery of love, it was a good way to live, and the Church was respected, and the Healers were tolerated. But now, that is all gone. Sentimental fairy tales are nothing to the Sisters compared to the exercise of true power, of ugly, vicious violence, through their Felthings.

“Hypatia would have the whole land turned to her sadistic purposes, and would only revel in the pain the Felthings inflict upon their own people.

“I know that I can rescue my own sisters.

“They will not feel merciful to the Sisters who have enslaved them and ruined their bodies. I only hope that Lilith’s mercy will be enough for them. Some I know will want to punish these poor, evil souls in the Church using more earthly means.

“Thank you, Tsanja, thank you for finding the key to free us all. Stay here awhile, it is not yet safe. First, I shall save my sisters, and then, priestess, the Church will fall.”