The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Little Indians

Chapter 8 – Cosy

Tsanja wiped herself off with her smalls, and gave Penn a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, as if she were embarrassed at the position in which she found herself. She soon looked like a priestess again, and Penn felt with some sadness that the moment had passed, and he wasn’t sure if he would feel this close to her ever again.

They both climbed out of the cave, and he walked her back to church with barely another word.

The leaves on the old oak trees were turning to gold, and there was getting to be a bit of a chill in the air. Autumn in Gynt was beautiful, but the evenings were changing fast, and Penn missed the long summer days.

He continued on to Mrs Beale’s house to visit Madeleine. He did feel guilty, but his love for Madeleine was undiminished. He would have to work especially hard to prove himself worthy of her.

Dee and Mrs Beale were talking quietly in the front room. Everyone else was gathered around the kitchen table, peeling vegetables and chatting. They welcomed him in, offering him a chair and a drink, and didn’t comment on his lateness.

For the first time, he talked of the strangeness of village life to the healers, and it was almost a relief to have all of his shadowy worries out in the open. Everyone was sympathetic, and Pamela offered some advice.

“Penn, you are right, the village has changed. We’ll work out something for you. I think it would be too dangerous for you to go to school now. It must be quiet at your house now.”

Poe put her arm around him, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and hugged him, as if he needed comforting. Penn didn’t mind the unexpected show of affection, but was a little mystified. Did he need sympathy?

Poe asked him then,

“Where is your mother, Penn?”

The question brought him to panic. His mother? He had a mother? He could not put a face to her. When was the last time he had seen her? How many months had he lived alone with Dee, and ignored his mother’s empty bedroom? When was the last time he had given her a single thought?

The panic soon subsided, and that blanket of calm washed over him again. Soon, all that remained was a vague disquiet, and he couldn’t even remember Poe’s exact question. He knew that she had asked something momentous, but it had slipped through his fingers.

Tsanja joined them that evening for dinner. Everyone could see that she was distracted, and was desperately trying to hang on to her usual reserve. She told them what she knew of the things that had gone wrong in Gynt, and how she could drive back the shadows over her memory for short periods, but it was not enough. Fortunately, Penn thought, Madeleine did not realise the main reason for her distraction.

Mrs Beale asked them all to come and stay at her house.

“Come stay with us, Penn, Dee, you would be happier here, and this house has its own protections. Tsanja, dear, you would be safer here, too.”

There was plenty of room in the house, and room enough for each of them.

Tsanja demurred, saying that there was always plenty to do around the church and the school.

Penn’s heart raced at the thought of spending more time with Madeleine, and he looked eagerly at Dee, hoping that she would want to stay too.

“It would be nice, Penn, yes, let’s both stay. Mrs Beale tells me that I have a little magic, and will show me how to make choker charms. If we ever get out of this place, there will be a need for protection against Lilith’s servants.”

Penn started; had Dee realised that Madeleine could not longer make them? Had she realised that not even Tsanja could make them any more?

Everyone looked happy at the newly organised arrangements.

“This will be cosy, won’t it?” Pamela suggested sensibly.

* * *

Dee spent most of her days with Mrs Beale now. Somehow, the pair had gathered that Madeleine and Tsanja had given away their powers. As Dee was the only remaining virgin in the house, perhaps the only one in Gynt, Mrs Beale began to teach her how to put together the choker charms.

It was a pleasurable task, but difficult.

Mrs Beale was always bringing in new stones, goodness knew where she found them, and gave Dee a single sheet of a strange, black, leather. She showed Dee how to cut fine strips from the hide, which was supple, and strong, and very easy to work. Dee’s fingers became quite stained, and the smell of the tanned leather was divine.

Dee liked to settle a hand amongst the stones, and they somehow elicited a pleasurable warmth in her body. Each was a slightly different shape, and she liked to pick it up, and gaze into it. She could detect a faint wisp of something like smoke, constantly shifting and moving, in the centre, and it glowed, ever so slightly.

Setting the stone into the leather cord was the hardest part. The leather had to hold the stone firmly, and she could not use any fastenings, only knots, the intricacy of which she had taken many days to master. As each stone was set in place, and the knots tied, magic was required to complete the charm.

The first few times, Mrs Beale helped her.

“It is the warming of the stone against your skin which extends the stone’s influence, ands binds it to the leather. It takes some skill, but you will know when the binding is done.”

Mrs Beale held Dee’s hand, with a choker in it, under Dee’s shirt and against her ribs.

“Wait ...”

As Dee held the stone against herself, she began to feel a series of emotions.

It was strange. The red stone was eliciting her maternal instinct. She had never felt the remotest attraction to any boy, or any baby, so this was unusual to her.

She felt a wave of love flowing through her. As it began to carry her away, her affection was concentrated in the warm stone. It was a funny thought, but if someone had wanted to take it from her in that instant, she would have fought them to keep it, she would have scratched and kicked, not wanting to let go, not trusting anyone but herself to hold the stone. Her love for the stone spilled over, and Dee found herself desperately wanting to hold a child, to love it, to protect it, to feed it from her breasts, to watch it grow.

Tears leaked from her eyes as she felt an answering warmth, a wave of love and affection. It emanated from the stone itself. Her heart soared with love, and she so much wanted a real person to be its object.

“Now, say the words ...”, said Mrs Beale.

Dee recited the verse she had been taught, and gripped the stone tight, and it flashed, a burst of heat filling her hand.

She knew that the magic was complete. The stone was aware, and had become part of the leather choker, and was ready to protect the wearer.

Mrs Beale was still holding her hand, and looked at her with concern in her eyes.

“It is beautiful, Dee, but it is tiring. One day, I will show you the source of the leather, the source of the stones.

“Only do as many as you feel you are able.”

Dee was enraptured. Making the charms was necessary, as there would always be people who needed protection from the demon, and it lifted her spirits.

Making the charms was also tiring, it was emotionally draining, and she still held the memory of the love from the stones. More and more she wanted to hold a child, to love it, and to watch it grow into a person. Not just any child. No, Dee wanted her own.

Madeleine had made scores of the charms. Dee could now understand why she had wanted so much to have Penn’s baby.

* * *

Mrs Beale had put away plenty of dry goods, but with autumn deepening towards winter, the fruit and vegetables were running low. She prepared some lovely spiced dishes, but Penn and Dee had not eaten meat for some time. They began to feel quite hungry, and could not help noticing that the others ate only sparingly, and would only watch as they themselves ate. Tsanja ate heartily when she visited, and still spent a lot of time out of the house, at the church, or at the school, but there were no students now.

Was Tsanja still trying to hide the village?

Penn joined Madeleine in her bed every night now, and the household did not deign to notice. At first, he felt quite self-conscious, but Madeleine didn’t make any attempt to hide his visits. His one time with Tsanja was all but forgotten as the young lovers learnt how to give each other pleasure, and Penn began to wonder what it would feel like to be married, to give himself up to Madeleine. He supposed that, in the eyes of the Gods, he already was married to her.

In the afternoons, Madeleine spent long hours in Poe’s room, with the door closed. Penn was always curious about what Madeleine and Poe were doing in there.

When Madeleine left the door open one time, he could not resist looking in.

Poe was lying sideways on her bed, and Madeleine was beside her, with her face under Poe’s robe. Poe was stroking Madeleine’s hair, slowly, lovingly. Penn thought that perhaps Madeleine might be crying, so he entered the room silently, to ask what was amiss.

Soon, however, the little noises gave it away, and he realised that Madeleine was suckling on Poe’s breast.

“Come on, greedy guts,” whispered Poe to Madeleine, “Get off, we have a visitor. Penn, would you like a turn?”

Madeleine disengaged, and she had a strange smile on her face. Her gaze was vacant. At first, she looked right through Penn. It was a few moments before she showed any sign of recognition at all, and the smile became more familiar as she turned towards him.

Poe sat upright, moving her robe across her front, and lifted one breast out. It was not an old woman’s breast. It was firm, and youthful, the aureole generous, the nipple pink. White droplets glistened, and she lay back on the bed again, turning to face Penn, and she put her arms out, motioning Penn to join her.

Madeleine looked on in amusement, and Penn felt his mouth begin to water. Warm, fresh, milk! He started to wonder what it would be like.

At that moment, Pamela put her hand on Penn’s shoulder. She must have been watching from the doorway.

“Come with me, Penn. Poe has her hands plenty full with Madeleine. Come with me, and I will help you with your hunger.”

Penn’s heart beat wildly. Had he seriously considered taking Poe’s nipple into his mouth? Now he was being offered the same with Pamela. Her promise was already visible, as the material covering her breasts darkened with moisture. Whatever Madeleine was doing with Poe, Penn felt that he would know it soon with Pamela.

To this strange household, it was as if breastfeeding your house guests was the most natural thing in the world. Penn felt seduced. He would have expected to feel some strangeness in the prospect of suckling his girlfriend’s mother, but it was simply not present.

Pamela led him to her room, which he had seen from Madeleine’s mirror, but never before entered. He was surprised at the scents in the room, they were fresh, and inviting. After quietly closing the door, Pamela lay down on her bed, her full head of hair behind her, and beckoned Penn over. As he lay down beside her, she revealed a breast, and put a hand behind Penn’s neck to guide him to her.

She was so beautiful, and she knew so. Her eyes were crinkled, her face was a little looser than her daughter’s, but she was wise, and kind, and Penn was comfortable with her.

After a diet of bread and root vegetables, Penn was famished. He latched on, and suckled. He was surprised at how strongly he needed to suck, but was soon rewarded with copious quantities of warm, life-giving milk. It was good. The feeling soon became surprisingly natural, and he began to feel quite relaxed.

Pamela stroked his hair, and kissed him.

A kind of waking dream entered Penn’s head. He had not moved, he knew that, but he felt different, it no longer felt like Mrs Beale’s house.

He was in another house, a young woman’s house.

Her name was Helen, but Penn could not recall having met her.

She was a presence in her own room, and, although she was not talking, a progression of images flowed through his mind. It was like a story, told in impressions.

Penn learned that The Andersens were staying with her, and were good company for a young lady such as herself, living on her own. She was in love with them all. She saw Poe as a confidante, Madeleine as a daughter, and Pamela with desire. She was surprised at the strength of her attraction to Pamela, but felt unable to voice it.

That was not necessary. Pamela herself made the first move, visiting her in her bed one night. Her remembered sexual awakening washed over Penn, and his feelings of suckling comfort began to become sexual.

How she loved Pamela’s astonishing beauty, her magical tongue, her sucking mouth. How many hours Pamela had spent with her, giving her pleasure. Most of all, she loved the strange warmth that Pamela held between her legs, and how nicely it pressed itself into her. Penn felt privileged to share this pleasure, and shared Helen’s desire for the the long, pleasant hours with Pamela to continue forever.

Penn was in a sort of dreamy half-consciousness as his erection began to poke against Pamela, and his desire crested as he felt Pamela share an orgasm with this strange young woman. He awoke then, and squeezed his eyes tight, and felt an uncontrollable burst of pleasure as his cock pulsed several times.

He had come against Pamela’s thigh.

Pamela held him closer, and smiled, and she continued to stroke his hair. He went back to suckle on her other breast, until his stomach felt full for the first time in weeks.