The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Ninth Needle

Copyright © 2017 by The Lycanthrope. All Rights Reserved Worldwide. Permission granted to The Erotic Mind Control Story Archive (EMCSA/MCSTORIES) to post and archive.

This is a work of adult fiction. None of the people in this story exist, and none of the events in this story ever happened. Well, at least as far as you and I know, anyway. This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual situations and actions. If such things offend you, don’t read this story. If you are not of the legal age of majority (generally 18 or older but it varies, so whatever is legal where you live) don’t read this story. If you’re still reading, please enjoy this story. I welcome reader feedback at

* * *

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story was written as an entry in a monthly story competition. I sometimes enter story competitions where others specify parameters for a story as a way to stretch my imagination and my writing beyond my comfort zone. The host of this competition was looking for dissonance in at least one character. There was also a request for certain physical characteristics in a female character in the story, giving me the opportunity to finally use the word “brobdingnagian” in a story. ;) Enjoy!)

* * *

Holy shit, would this girl ever shut up?!?

Any other day I’d have been willing to spend hours in deep conversation with Rainbow or Moonbeam or whatever the fuck she said her name was. Any other day I’d have looked straight into her cornflower blue eyes, framed by wavy blonde hair, never once glancing at how the front of her peasant blouse was pushed out by what had to be a fairly impressive rack. Any other day I would have shared my deep convictions on total equality, not only between the sexes, but also the equality of all things that live on Earth and even beyond. Any other day I would be enchanted to discuss her views on cosmic life energy and how her views were in harmony with the energy work I do as an acupuncturist.

But not today.

Today I needed to fuck some girl until she couldn’t remember her name, and Sunshine here with the big rack wasn’t going to fill that bill. None of the girls in The Algae Bar, full of vegan earthy-crunchy new age people just like me, would cut it. I needed a slut with low self-esteem to dirty-fuck.

When Flowerchild finally took a breath, I politely interrupted her and made my “need to use the restroom” excuse. Heading toward the back of the bar (how the hell can it be a bar if it doesn’t serve alcohol?) I kept an ear cocked back toward the blonde. Sure enough, she started yammering with someone new within seconds. I made a right turn just before the restrooms and left through the side exit.

* * *

The place claimed to be an authentic Mandarin-Polynesian-Szechuan restaurant and bar. The pumping music leaking out to the parking lot was 100% meat market dance music, though. The parking lot had a high percentage of “entry-level white collar girl” cars, which usually made for good pickings inside, especially on a Friday night.

I took a booth in the restaurant, near the bar. The bulk of the patrons were at tables in the bar and on the dance floor. The menu proved that there was nothing “authentic” about the cuisine. I didn’t care. I ordered the Triple Delight and was soon slaking my hunger with shrimp, chicken, and beef with a side of pork fried rice. It was forbidden food that a vegan like me would never eat. Well, except for that time two weeks earlier and this time, of course.

The old master had warned me, but I hadn’t listened.

I finished off the forbidden morsels, paid my bill, and headed into the bar. The place was packed. Predictably, the tens, nines, and eights were drawing all of the attention. Blonde hair, hot curves, clingy clothes, they were magnets for all of the guys. Starshine with the big rack would have had a cluster of guys around her if she’d been here. Of course she would never dirty her ethereal energy by coming to a place like this.

The hotties drawing all of the attention made my hunt much easier. I spotted her sitting at the bar alone. She was a solid seven — pretty face, nice curves, a mouth that looked like it was designed for a cock. If she bleached her medium brown hair and shortened her skirt by a few inches, she’d be drawing the same level of attention that the hotties were getting. Her hazel eyes revealed a promising combination of need, hope, desire, doubt, and a bit of timidness. I worked my way through the crowd until I was next to her and gave her my best opening line:

“Hello, I’m Ethan.”

* * *

Lori’s apartment was nice enough. She made a decent salary as the Administrative Assistant to the CEO of a large shipping company. She complained about the huge stress from the responsibilities dumped on her by a very demanding boss.

Even though I helped people eliminate stress with acupuncture all the time, I simply told her that I worked in the health field. I knew that I wouldn’t see her professionally. It was likely that I wouldn’t see her ever again after that night. Besides, I was booked solid for the next nine weeks. The word was out that my sabbatical to the East had turned me into the guy who could help people when nothing else worked.

She had a talented mouth, but apparently she’d never met a guy who had trained himself in the tantric methods of intimacy. She was noticeably disheartened by her inability to get me to come with her mouth. If I’d hooked up with Raindrop back at The Algae Bar, there was a good chance that we could have spent hours riding endless waves of ecstasy. That wasn’t the agenda for tonight, though.

Acupuncture isn’t only about needles. A touch here, a caress there, a couple of light taps on these spots, and Lori was literally begging me to fuck her. A couple of orgasms with me on top left her panting for breath, but I could tell she had a lot more to give.

Hmm, stressed out from too many responsibilities, huh?

As she was recovering, I found what I was looking for in her closet. Two leather belts secured her wrists to her headboard and a scarf blindfolded her.

“You’re helpless now, Lori. You can’t do anything to resist me. I’m in complete control of you.” With her responsibilities forcibly stripped from her, she moaned and trembled with desire as I entered her again.

Over the next two hours I came three times as I jackhammered into her. Lori, on the other hand, came over and over and finally lapsed into unconsciousness on her bed. I untied her and removed her blindfold, then covered her with the blankets before I dressed. I was physically sated as I closed her apartment door behind me, but I still felt unsatisfied. As much as I’d hoped that banging Lori or someone like her would scratch my itch, it simply was never going to overcome the mistake I’d made.

I should have listened to the old man. I needed to use the Ninth Needle.

* * *

“Hello. Sifu invites you to tea at his home.”

The girls’s eyes were downcast and her head was bowed, immediately raising my pro-feminism hackles. Women are the equals of men in every way, and there was no reason for the Asian girl to adopt such a subservient posture. Still, though, I needed to respect the local culture, even though it might be in conflict with my ideals. Inclusiveness means including those who would be exclusivist. I was a visitor to Nepal, and wasn’t I there to learn in the first place?

She waited for my response, giving no further explanation. Her English had been clear, with both British and local accents. In this part of Nepal, “local” was a mixture of Nepalese, Indian, Chinese, and possibly even Dzongkha from Bhutan.

I knew that “sifu” was the Chinese word for a Master, a skilled practitioner, perhaps a teacher. It was the Nepali custom to always call elders by their title, rather than their given name. Exactly what this man might be a master of wasn’t offered. Oh well, I was here to learn, right?

“Namaskar,” I said, placing my palms together in the traditional greeting, “I would be honored,”

She nodded and motioned with an upturned hand for me to follow her. Setting a sedate pace, possibly in deference to me not being fully adapted to the altitude well in excess of two miles above sea level, she led me through the village to a low stone house. Following her example, I removed my shoes before entering. Down the central hallway, in a small room to the right, stood an elderly man.

“Ethan Harrison, Sifu.” I had no idea how she knew my name.

“Thank you Adita.”

The girl bowed and left us.

“Namaskar,” he said, placing his palms together. I returned the greeting.

“Please sit, Mister Harrison.”

We settled in on either side of the low table in the center of the room. Adita returned and began tea service. Sifu picked up his cup and slurped it loudly. I’d read that this was custom in Nepal, so I followed suit.

“How long have you been freeing the flows of energy in distressed people?”

“I’ve been an acupuncturist for nine years, Sifu.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“You studied in America?”

“Yes. I got my undergraduate degree in anthropology, with a concentration in Eastern Studies, then a Masters degree in nutrition. Then I went to school for acupuncture.”

Again he lapsed into silent thought. I couldn’t help but think that, if he’d had a beard, he’d be stroking it.

“You are skilled for someone so young,” he said, “but you seek more. Some of the people who come to you are… difficult for you to help. You have come here searching for a way to see further, to understand more fully. You wish to be able to divine what each person truly needs so that you can direct the flows of their energy for the best harmony.”

How did he know whether or not I was any good at it? And how on Earth did he know the real reason I’d put my practice on hold and traveled to India, China, and now Nepal? He pondered awhile longer, then he appeared to come to a decision.

“You have never heard of the Nine Needles, have you?”

“I know of the traditional nine types of acupuncture needles, Sifu. I based my study on the traditional methods before learning the more modern techniques. I only use disposable filiform needles in my practice, but I do know how to use all nine types.”

“That is further proof that you are ready, but those are not the Nine Needles I was speaking of.”

I could hear the capitalization in his voice. He was definitely talking about nine specific needles, not the nine different types of needles. I was intrigued.

With no apparent signal from Sifu, a young woman entered the room carrying a small carved wooden box. She placed the box on the table between us and then stepped to the side of the room to kneel beside Adita. I noticed that she was as lovely as Adita, then I immediately chastised myself for chauvinistically judging her based on her appearance, rather than taking the time to learn of her inner self. Sifu snorted lightly, as if amused.

Looking at the box, I noticed Chinese characters carved into the top.

“That is your name,” Sifu told me. I looked at him in surprise. The box looked hand carved. How could they have carved my name into it so quickly?

“Like you, I manipulate the flow of energy with the needles, but it is not the only discipline in which I am adept.”

I was confused, but I took him at his word. The old man did seem to know much more about me than he should have.

He removed the carved top from the box, revealing a set of acupuncture needles resting on a jet black cloth. They were unlike any needles I had ever seen before. They were of medium length and the body of the needles was as fine and thin as the filiform needles I used in my practice. The handles on the needles were more substantial than the filiform needles, and at the tail of each needle was what appeared to be a tiny jewel, different on each needle, covering a rainbow of colors. Seven of the needles were silver colored, but it was a warmer silver color than the needles I used. They definitely didn’t appear to be stainless steel. The eighth needle was smaller and it was golden colored with a clear, diamond-like jewel at the tail.

Remembering that Sifu had mentioned nine needles, I looked closer and noticed a ninth needle in the box. It was so black that it appeared to swallow any light that touched it.

“These were made for you and for you only,” Sifu told me. “They will open the ability you seek, the ability to diagnose, to divine, to discover the true state of a person, but they come with a warning.”

He fixed me with a serious gaze.

“You must never use them to know yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sifu.”

He smiled knowingly, almost ruefully, and shook his head from side to side. I remembered that the head shaking gestures in Nepal are the opposite of what they were in the West, so his motion was actually indicating agreement.

“The seven silver needles — think of them as… transmitters, and the gold needle is the receiver. The gold needle is for you. When you are divining the state of a patient, first place that needle at your own Heaven’s Pillar.”

I instinctively touched the point on the back of my neck, just below the base of my skull. Sifu smiled and continued.

“Each of the silver needles corresponds to a chakra point on your patient. You place them starting at the Root chakra and working upward in sequence to the Crown chakra. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sifu.”

“Good, then it’s time for you to learn by doing.”

* * *

As before, there was no discernible signal from Sifu, but three young women entered the room. Two of them were flanking the third, supporting her. She appeared to have some difficulty walking. Sifu stood, and I followed suit. The two flanking girls stepped away to the wall opposite Adita and the girl who had brought the needles and knelt to mirror them. The remaining girl was distinctly Chinese, and quite lovely. This time I tried to ignore the twinge of guilt over my chauvinism. Sifu snorted again.

“This is Feng,” he said. “Help her.”

He spoke to the girl in Chinese. She hobbled to the table and removed her robe, leaving her naked. With difficulty she laid down on the low table. Sifu handed me the wooden box.

I was a bit surprised at having a nude twenty-something lying in front of me, but I set that feeling aside and focused on the task at hand.

“Receiver first,” Sifu reminded me. I took the golden needle from the box and reached around behind my head to the correct location. With a little quick rotation I inserted the needle to Heaven’s Pillar. Immediately I could sense almost a hum of energy at that point, unlike anything I had ever felt before.

Removing the red-jeweled needle from the box, I turned to the girl.

“Root chakra, frontal aspect,” advised Sifu. “You could use the rear aspect if she were standing, but she is lying on her back out of necessity. You will know when you have it placed correctly.”

The girl remained calm as I approached the area of her sex with the needle. A Westerner probably wouldn’t be so calm, especially a man. Western men tend to get a bit touchy about sharp objects near their genitalia.

The needle passed through her skin easily, almost as if it had a mind of its own. I was gently adjusting the depth to where the chakra should be when suddenly the energy hum turned into a source of knowledge! Already I was learning things about the girl and the flows of energy within her body.

Excited, I extracted the orange-jeweled needle from the wooden box and placed it at her splenic chakra. It was like turning on another light as my pathway to the girl’s inner state widened, giving more insight into her physical, mental, and emotional state.

Smoothly and methodically I continued. Yellow went to the life force chakra at the solar plexus. Green connected me to the heart chakra. Blue added the throat chakra. Each successive needle increased my knowledge of the girl and her problems. The purple-jeweled needle inserted at the third eye chakra low on the forehead boosted my connection to her mental state and also added in some insight into her spiritual state. The final needle had a white jewel at the base and it went into the crown chakra atop the head, completing my connection to the girl’s spiritual state and tying all of the other needles together into a harmonious flow of information.

“Allow her energies to flow before you and through you. Do not seek information, just observe it as it comes to you naturally.”

I closed my eyes and relaxed. It was exactly as Sifu had said; if I tried to find the information I wanted, it seemed to always be just beyond my reach. If I just stayed at peace, everything I needed came to me instantly.

“Her pain is not from a physical illness,” I said, opening my eyes. She has great fear and self-doubt. It’s affecting her in her knee joints and it will soon begin affecting her eyes.” Feng’s problems were as clear to me as if they’d been written on a sheet of paper.

“Her emotional state is both caused by and causing blockages in the flow of her energy,” I said. “In the West we might call this a ‘vicious circle.’ Do you have five regular needles?”

Sifu laid out exactly five needles next to the girl on the table, as if he’d been expecting my request. I looked up at him.

“I, too, made the same findings with Feng just a few hours ago,” he said, “but I did not take steps to remedy them. You have done well.”

Two needles went into each of the girl’s earlobes and the fifth needle went near her right collarbone. Then I applied finger pressure at three points on each of her shins. With each action I could immediately sense the difference in Feng’s state. Her relief was also evident on her face. Removing the needles from her earlobes and her collar, I finished up with fingertip pressure on several points on each foot. I could sense that the blockages within her were completely gone.

I removed the chakra needles in the reverse of the order I’d inserted them, carefully placing them back in the wooden box. Finally I removed the gold needle from the base of my skull and returned it to the box, too.

Feng sat up, apparently oblivious to her nudity. Tentatively she moved first her right and then her left leg. A smile lit up her face and she practically sprang to her feet.

“Xie-xie! Xie-xie!” She thanked me repeatedly in Mandarin. I smiled at her and answered her in English. Sifu translated. She donned her robe and exited the room with the other four girls trailing her, leaving Sifu and I alone in the room.

“You may sterilize the needles with pressurized steam or even flame,” he told me. “They were forged at temperatures far higher than that, and they will withstand the heat needed to sterilize them.”

I thought about the unused needle.

“What about the black needle? What does that one do?”

Sifu smiled wistfully.

“The black needle reverses the function of the needles, swapping the receiver with the transmitters. If you were perfect, you would never need it. I have yet to meet any who are perfect, including myself, though. If you do need to use the black needle, you will know how to use it when you need it.”

I was puzzled, but it seemed that he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Remember that these were created only for you. They will not work for anyone else, Ethan Harrison. And remember to seek only knowledge of others, not yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sifu.”

“Namaste, Ethan Harrison. Go in peace and harmony.”

“Namaste, Sifu. May peace and harmony fill your household.”

I picked up the wooden box and turned to find Adita standing in the doorway with her head bowed subserviently. She led me back to the front door and opened it for me. I turned to her.

“Namaste, Adita.”

“Namaste, Sifu,” she said, bowing slightly before closing the door behind me.

As I sat on the small stool outside and put my shoes on, I ruminated on her parting words. Was I now as master of some sort?

* * *

It had been fairly cool in that village back in July, and I could only imagine how frigid it would be in February. The city was cold enough, and we were at sea level.

The Nine Needles had been exactly what I needed. Most of my clients were relatively easy to help. Occasionally, though, someone came to see me and I had a hard time figuring out the right approach for them. That’s when I used the Nine Needles, and they told me exactly what I needed to know. Almost instantly I would discover what needed to be done to bring the client back to a path of harmony and free energy flow. I would also monitor the changes within them as I guided their energy back to the true path.

I bought a small used autoclave for a few hundred dollars from an online auction site. It’s basically a small pressure cooker that uses superheated steam to sterilize medical instruments. It did a fine job sterilizing the Nine Needles after each use. Being a bit older, it had a long cycle time, so I couldn’t use the Needles on consecutive client appointments. Fortunately I didn’t need to use them very often, so that was never a problem.

Most of my clients were female, and I certainly wasn’t going to ask them to disrobe as Feng had done. I respected their equality and privacy, and I was careful to cover the parts of them that I didn’t need to access. Of course they always kept their underwear on.

My reputation grew quickly. Thanks to the Nine Needles, I became the practitioner you went to when nothing else worked, and clients were none the wiser. The surprising thing was, most of them were easy to work with, and I seldom needed to use the Nine Needles. When I did, though, I was always amazed at the depth of insight and knowledge they gave me and the easy with which they helped me correct the misalignments in a client’s energy flow.

It wasn’t long before I began to wonder: What could the Nine Needles tell me about myself? The more I thought about it, the more I became obsessed with the idea of discovering the secrets about myself.

The old master was right; I wasn’t perfect. At the end of one work day, I stood in my treatment room and opened the wooden box.

With the gold needle at Heaven’s Pillar and the rainbow of needles inserted in my chakra points, I transcended! The knowledge that opened up to me was far broader than what I learned from using the Needles with my clients. I explored my connection with the world around me. The new knowledge was a small part of how Sifu had known who I was and all of those other things about me. I didn’t have the training that he had in other disciplines, but I got a tiny window into the people near me.

The man in the parking lot had asthma and the cold weather was aggravating it. The massage therapist across the hall was sad over the loss of a loved one. I could sense so much, and somehow I knew that my perception would grow each successive time I used the Needles on myself!

It was when I pulled back from my exploration of the world near me and looked into myself that my problems started. I could sense the true nature of the male human, and it was almost exactly the opposite of what my sensibilities told me was right. In my mind I was a giver, a nurturer, a caring person who respected all others as equals, regardless of race, gender, or any other differentiator. The male energy, though was very different.

I was a hunter, a predator, carnivorous in every way! My male imperative was to spread my genetics as far and wide as possible. Females were to be conquered and kept for breeding and pleasure. They existed to serve men in every way possible. My primal male energy needed to take and keep women.

Of course I recoiled from this horrible discovery! What I’d found wasn’t who I was or what I believed! I was much more evolved and enlightened!

And yet, there was my male energy showing me that I’d been suppressing a completely different me.

* * *

In the month since my terrible self-discovery, I’d found that my increased instinctive knowledge of others was a permanent thing. It made me even better at my work. I was booked solid several weeks out, and people were still clamoring to see me. I had the room to add another treatment room, or maybe even two, but I was barely keeping up with the scheduling as it was, never mind the other business aspects of my practice.

My male nature had been set free. I fought to keep it under control, and I was mostly successful. There were a few times when I’d tried to sate it, though, picking up some random girl and spending a few hours screwing her senseless. It took the edge off, but it was also like an appetizer — it made me hungry for what I really needed.

Sitting in my apartment, I thought about Sifu and all of the beautiful twenty-somethings surrounding him. They were his women, his possessions, his… slaves. He had to be at least forty years older then them, but they were undeniably his girls.

I could drive to my office, pick up the Nine Needles, go back to Lori’s place in the morning, and make her my girl. As soon as I’d used them on myself I’d known how the black needle was to be used. It would be simple to take her and make her mine for life.

But no, it wasn’t fair to her. Most importantly because it wasn’t right FOR her. Despite her neediness and her other attributes that I’d used to seduce her, she wasn’t a submissive slave type at heart. I could ignore that and take her anyway, but my sensitive new-age nice guy balked at that. Besides, there were probably way too many friends and relatives in her life and our society certainly took a dim view on girls suddenly becoming devoted slaves to a man. And let’s face it, I was probably eventually going to claim more women for myself, which would almost certainly set her family and friends on an indignant rampage.

I needed someone who had a slave’s soul.

* * *

Monday morning had me in the office at 7:30 in the morning, getting everything ready for the day. Looking at my schedule, I saw that it was a more than full day, with nine clients and then a tenth client at 7:00 that night!

My sessions usually ran 45 minutes, followed by settling payment, making session notes, and getting things ready for the next client. Some clients benefited from longer sessions, so I’d double up the sessions for them, but my “full” days were a client every hour, starting at 8:00 AM, an hour for lunch because I do better work with that little down time in the middle of the day to center myself and bring my energy into harmony, and then five more hourly clients after lunch, ending the day at 6:00 PM.

Looking at the schedule, I ruefully noted that I wasn’t even doing that great a job with even that aspect of my business. It had been easier when I wasn’t as busy, but now I was just jotting down barebones information and always planning to go back and make more notes later. Sometimes that didn’t happen, and it was obvious that the 7:00 PM appointment was one of those times. Like the rest of the day, it had been booked more than a month earlier, but I hadn’t written down the client’s name, their presenting issue, or anything other than “EZ,” since I apparently thought it would be an easy session. I sighed and promised myself once again that I’d put more effort into the business aspects of my practice.

* * *

The morning gave me the privilege of bringing harmony to four wonderful people. Lunch was an alfalfa sprout salad and a green drink to help cleanse away the shameful transgressions my male energy had made on Friday. Twenty minutes of meditation got me centered, grounded, and ready for my busy afternoon.

Five more clients had their energy flows freed, then I bundled up to face the frigid walk to the vegan cafe two blocks away. Though a bit pressed for time, I slowed down and enjoyed my Cashew Thai Quinoa Salad and my mineral water freshened with a slice of organic cucumber.

Nourished, I walked back to my office through the February chill. I had just finished a short meditation sitting behind my desk when the chimes on my waiting room door tinkled. I stepped into the oversized waiting room and immediately knew that this wasn’t an easy client — this was a perfect client. There was no mistaking the thick mane of raven hair and even a full-length quilted down coat couldn’t hide what was underneath.

“Hello Ericka,” I said.

“Hello Ethan. Thank you for seeing me again.”

* * *

Ericka Zapata had come to me nearly two years earlier, physically ill due to the major emotional trauma she had just experienced. Two acupuncture sessions had relieved her nausea and her digestive distress enough so that she was able to return to her native Cali, Colombia to attend her parents’ funerals. They had been killed by a gang who broke into their home to rob them.

Ericka had been crushed by their deaths. The foundation of her world had basically been pulled out from under her. Piled on top of that was the sheer terror in knowing that, had she been at home instead of attending college in America, she probably would have been killed, too. The cherry on top of her emotional train wreck was guilt over the irrational idea that she might have been able to save them if she’d been there. The result of her emotional trauma was that she was too sick to fly and conventional doctors hadn’t been able to help her. I had been able to help her.

* * *

As she removed her coat and turned to hang it up, I was struck once again by the sheer femininity of the girl. She was wearing a knit sweater and black yoga pants. Two years ago she’d attended both of her sessions with me in towering high heels. More seasonable boots covered her feet and calves, though still with enough heel to add a few inches to her own 5′6″ or so. It was as if she’d been constructed by a pornographic genius who had been given the body of an athletic fitness model — slim with toned legs and a flat stomach — a beautiful head with thick, lustrous black hair, long eyelashes, full pouty lips, and the tiniest cleft in her chin, and four soccer balls, and he’d assembled her with two of the soccer balls filling her bra and the other two side by side in the seat of her yoga pants.

Turning to face me, she stepped forward and crushed her colossal bust against me in a tight hug.

“Thank you for helping me. I should have come here to thank you when I returned. I’m sorry.”

She released me and stepped back.

“I stayed in Colombia only long enough to take care of my parents’ estate, then I came back here to finish school. There is nothing left for me in Colombia, no relatives… nothing. I came back because it’s what my father would have wanted me to do, but now I’ve applied for residency. I can’t bear to go back and live in Colombia. All of the good memories I had there have turned bitter.”

“You’re quite welcome, Ericka. I’m sorry for your loss, but I’m glad to see that you’re doing better than the last time I saw you.”

I led her back to my office, offering her a chair and then settling into the chair behind my desk.

“So are you here just to thank me, or is there something I can help you with?”

“I need your help. I am… adrift… without direction or purpose. Since I came back here I’ve been focused on my studies because that’s what my parents told me to do before they… passed. I’ve always had their guidance and I’ve loved following it. My father wanted me to get an education in business so that I could have a role in his company, and I wanted nothing more than to please him. It made me so happy to make him happy.

“But soon I will finish my degree and graduate and then… what? I have done two internships at companies here in the city. They kept me busy, but they did not fulfill me. I need to get a job or I cannot stay in America, but those jobs were… wrong for me. I feel an emptiness inside me. No matter what I do, it feels like something critical is missing, and it’s causing me physical pain. I really need your help, Doctor Ethan.”

It was a fairly common mistake among my clients, and one I always cleared up immediately so that there was no misunderstanding. I always kept client relationships on a first name basis, but I was careful to never misrepresent my credentials.

“I’m not a doctor, Ericka. I’m not a medical doctor of any sort, nor do I have a PhD. I have a Masters degree, but not a doctorate.”

“Well Master Ethan then…” Ericka’s voice trailed off and she seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Master,” she whispered quietly to herself. She looked up at me with a different light in her big brown eyes.

“Can you help me, Ma… Ethan?”

“Yes, Ericka, I can. Would you like to do that?”

“Yes,” she said, standing. “Is everything the same as it was last time?”

“Yes. Just turn the light on when you’re ready and I’ll be in. Remember to use the restroom if you need it.”

She walked to the treatment room door and then paused, looking back at me for a long moment before she entered. A few minutes later the red “In Session” sign above the door lit up when she flipped the light switch beside the door to the treatment room. She was ready to begin.

I opened the bottom drawer in my desk and took out the carved wooden box. Not everything was going to be the same as it had been the last time she’d visited me. I placed the gold needle at Heaven’s Pillar and inserted it, letting my hair fall back down to cover it.

* * *

Entering the treatment room, I stopped dead. Instead of putting on a pair of loose gym shorts and draping her top with a large towel, Ericka had simply stripped down to her lacy black bra and panties and laid down on the table on her back! The band on her bra was wider than any I’d seen, obviously to support huge breasts. The waistband on her panties was almost invisible where it crossed her hip and continued around behind her. It was almost certainly a tiny thong. I could have seen for myself, if I’d wanted, since her firm bubble-butt actually created a substantial gap between her lower back and the table.

“I thought this would be easier,” she said.

“Uh… Well, as long as you’re comfortable with it.”

“I am comfortable with you… Ethan.”

“Uh… Right. Okay. As it turns out, I’m going to be using some techniques that I didn’t use before with you, so this works out.”

Moving next to her, I pressed the button on the mp3 player and quiet meditation music featuring bamboo flutes and a koto filled the room with serenity. Ericka noticed the carved box in my hand.

“That is beautiful. What does it say?”

“My name in Chinese,” I told her. Removing the lid from the box, I showed her the Needles inside.

“They’re very special, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Ericka, they are. They’ll help me find exactly what you need.”

I inserted the first Needle at her Root chakra and immediately I could sense her pain. There was strong sadness within her, but even more powerful was a fear. It felt like a very specific fear, but I couldn’t yet tell what it was. I reached for the next Needle.

With each successive Needle I learned more about what was troubling Ericka. Her description of being ‘adrift’ was an enormous understatement. To her, it felt like life was a pitch black maze that she was blindly stumbling through. Without her parents guidance, she felt completely lost — her life without meaning.

The final Needle in her Crown chakra opened her completely to me. She saw herself as nothing more than a twenty three-year-old orphan, of little use to anyone. The loss of her parents left her saddened, but the deeper problem was a profound fear — fear that she would never find someone to fill a very specific role in her life.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with tears. Somehow she could sense that I was seeing and feeling everything about her. I felt her relax internally and open herself to me completely, and there it was: She had the mind and heart of a slave! She gave me a faint, hopeful smile, knowing that I now knew the truth about her.

“First things first,” I told her. Seven carefully placed stainless steel needles began the relief of the physical pain her emotions were causing. She closed her eyes and I could feel her responding to the shift in energy within her.

“It’s getting better,” she said quietly, “but…”

I waited for her to continue.

“But… there’s more.”

“Do you know what is missing?”

She opened her eyes.

“Yes. I think I’ve always known.”

I removed the single-use filiform needles and dropped them through the slot into the ‘red bag’ waste. Tentatively she reached for my hand.

“Please… Sir.”

Like Ericka, I think I’d always known.

I took the Ninth Needle out of the box for the first time ever. Holding the small black Needle up so she could see it, I said, “this Needle is different.”

“I know,” she said. “I don’t know how I know, but I know, and it’s what I want more than anything.”

“I think this is permanent, Ericka. I don’t think that there’s any way to undo it.”

“Then that makes it perfect, Ethan. Please make me yours.”

The Ninth Needle seemed to vibrate, almost in anticipation of what was about to happen. Reaching around behind my neck, I inserted it just above the gold Needle.

* * *

Sifu had told me that the black Needle reversed the functions of the other eight Needles, but I didn’t really know what to expect. No words could have prepared me for the experience. It felt like my mind had expanded and was now occupying both of our bodies. For a brief moment I wondered if I should try to limit what was flowing into her to just my spiritual, respectful self, but that simply wasn’t going to happen — the primal male energy was in control.

In just a few seconds, my entire lifetime flowed into Ericka, including the parts of me I hadn’t recognized until recently. I could feel her learning all there was to know about me. As she learned, her mind automatically used the new knowledge to give her what she most wanted: The ability to serve and please me perfectly.

It wasn’t much of a change to who she already was, more of a fine tuning so that she was perfectly suited for me. I could feel her sensing all of this and embracing it completely. The emptiness she’d felt for over two years was now filled with joy. Her aimlessness was replaced with an unwavering commitment to fulfill my every desire. The fear and uncertainty were gone and in their place was the absolute certainty that she was wanted, she was needed, she was cherished, and she was where belonged.

“You belong to me, Ericka.”

Her dark eyes shone with happiness, devotion, and love.

“I am yours. Everything I am, everything I have, everything I will ever be is yours, my Master, and it always will be.”

I removed the black Ninth Needle and placed it into the tray to go into the autoclave. The seven Needles from Ericka’s chakra points followed in sequence. Last of all was the gold Needle. I set the tray aside carefully.

Ericka sat up on the table, then she slid sinuously to her knees on the floor in front of me. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, her soul open to me. It was perfect. She knew that this was how I wanted her to express her submission to me. Unlike the old man in Nepal, my primal male preferred to look into the beautiful eyes of my slave and see her devotion.

“Show me what is mine, Ericka.”

She stood, her eyes never leaving mine. Reaching behind her, she released the many hooks on the band of her lacy black bra. Sliding the straps off her shoulders, she dropped the bra on the table behind her. Her magnificent breasts had the high, round firmness of her youth and the same warm tan tone as the rest of her skin. Her nipples were darker and erect, begging for attention. She gave me a timid smile that betrayed her desire for my approval.

“Beautiful,” I said, and her smile turned to one of flirtatious shyness.

Ericka held my gaze as she turned. Looking back over her shoulder, she bent forward at the waist, her legs perfectly straight. The tiny strings that I’d seen crossing her hips met at a tiny lacy black triangle of fabric at the base of her spine. A third black string descended from there and disappeared into the deep cleavage of her ass. Reaching back, she slowly lowered the thong over the firm globes of her ass and down her legs, letting it drop to the floor.

Her sex was bare and wet.

Stepping out of the thong, she turned to face me. In her eyes I saw desire, submission, joy, and… uncertainty. She was questioning whether she was acceptable to me.

“Ericka, you are perfect. Epic poems have been written; beautiful songs have been composed; men have killed and died; entire wars have been fought, all over women who can’t hold a candle to you. There is no other girl that I could possibly want to be mine more than I want you.

“I was the one who chose you, Ericka. Do you doubt my wisdom in making that choice?”

“Oh no, Master Ethan!”

I reached out and gently stroked the side of her face. It was a loving, intimate touch, and it was also the first time we’d touched since I’d used the Ninth Needle. Instantly there was a connection, a deeper understanding, an opening of a mental path between us. Sifu hadn’t told me about that. It certainly explained how his girls seemed to know when Sifu wanted them — they did know!

“You understand now, don’t you Ericka?”

“Yes, Sir. It’s… amazing!”

Lifting her chin, I leaned forward and kissed her bee-stung lips. She whimpered and I could feel her desire through our new connection. She could also sense my desire and my wishes. She sank to her knees and began undoing my belt.

My stunning Latina slave began loving me with her mouth. Her brobdingnagian breasts rubbed against my thighs as she kissed, licked, nuzzled, tongued, and sucked my cock. I could feel the very essence of her submission as she poured her heart into worshiping and pleasuring me. She swirled her tongue on my perineum, reveling in the feel of my hard shaft against her face, then laved her way slowly up my cock until she could engulf my knob and slowly suck me all the way down, taking me into her throat without a hint of hesitation.

As intensely pleasurable as her mouth was, I wanted more. She sensed this immediately through our connection, and my wish was immediately matched by her actions. Kissing my cock one last time, she rose to her feet and then laid back on the padded acupuncture table. Her heavy breathing made her breasts undulate erotically. She raised her knees up, rocking her round ass so that her pussy was thrust upward. I positioned myself above her and paused.

“You obey me completely Ericka.”

“Yes, Master Ethan.”

“The essence of your being is sexual, Ericka. You have a very sexual energy. I am now going to complete my claiming of you — fully take my ownership of you — by claiming you sexually. Is this what you want?”

“Yes, Master Ethan.”

“Each time that I thrust into you, Ericka, I will be thrusting a full, intense orgasm of pleasure into you; a full, intense orgasm of submission; a full, intense orgasm of total love and devotion to me as your Master. But you will not be able to come. Each thrust will add to the ones that came before, driving your need for release higher and higher. The arousal, pleasure, submission, and devotion will be grow more powerful as I keep thrusting… double… triple… quadruple… growing and growing without release because you cannot orgasm… you WILL NOT orgasm until my tenth thrust into you. On the tenth thrust, you will experience an orgasm ten times as powerful as any woman has ever had. Ten times the pleasure, ten times the submission, ten times the devotion, ten times the complete knowing that you belong to me will flow through every fiber of your being, Ericka!

“And each time I thrust into you after that, another full, intense orgasm will rip through you. Over and over you will climax as I thrust into you over and over. Maybe they’ll all merge into one continuous orgasm of sweet submission. And when I honor you with my seed, you will know all throughout your mind, all throughout your body, all throughout your entire awareness that you are accepted, you are wanted, you belong… You belong to me. I own you in all ways. I command you, I control you, I demand your obedience, I accept your offer of your very soul.”

She trembled in anticipating, her eyes shining with desire.

“Count them out loud, Ericka. Count your way to becoming the slave girl you need to be.”

I thrust smoothly, all the way into her.

“One,” she moaned. I stayed sheathed within her, savoring her tightness, her wetness, her heat, the soft grip of her walls on my cock. Slowly I pulled back, watching the emotions on her face as she remained filled with an orgasm she couldn’t release. I drove into her hard.

“TWO!” It was a gasping yelp. Her eyes were wild, filled with the double-strength pleasure and other emotions boiling inside her.

“Three!” It had been a gentler thrust, but her eyes had momentarily rolled back. Her orgasmic pressure soared even higher.

“Fo… Fa… Ssss… SEV-SEV-SEVEN! AH! AH! AH!” Rhythmic thrusting made her huge breasts bounce up and down in SUCH a sexy way. I paused for a moment, then drew back and pushed into her very slowly, letting both of us feel every tiny bit of the penetration.

“Eiggggh,” she husked. She was nearly incoherent, her need to release the sexual pressure far beyond what any woman should be able to take. Her pussy was clenching over and over, aching to come. I withdrew completely from her.

“Mash… Mass… MASTER!”

Ericka’s pelvis thrust up and down, seeking my cock. Her eyes were wild with animal need. Instinctively her legs wrapped around me to try to pull me back inside her, then they relaxed and fell back as some barely cognizant corner of her slave brain realized that her Master would do with her as he pleased.

I leaned forward over her. Grabbing her wrists, I pinned them to the table and slammed my cock into her.

“NIIIINE!” She was weeping with the intense need to release. I pulled back slowly and stopped. I could feel her hips quivering as she fought to keep herself subservient to me.

“Ericka… Ericka…”

Her eyes focused on me as best they could.

“You are mine.”

I slid all the way into her and she erupted.

“TENNNNN!” She howled and her pussy clenched my cock over and over. Her legs wrapped around me spasmodically, clamping me deep inside her. She squirted her ejaculate into my pubic hair. I’d had girls experience squirting orgasms during tantric sex, but they had been nothing compared to the massive sexual release Ericka was having.

It took a few minutes before she began to come down from her orgasmic high. Her breathing was still ragged when I thrust again, setting off another orgasm. It seemed that she’d forgotten that I wasn’t just going to stop after the orgasm to end all orgasms, I was going to make her come over and over.

That’s exactly what I did, pumping climax after climax into her. She did get to the point where she was orgasming continuously. Through her delirious ecstasy she still managed to notice when my cock thickened as my orgasm approached. She somehow managed to lock eyes with me, showing me how happy it was making her to know that she was about to make me come. I leaned down and kissed her as my cock began spasming inside her.

“I’m… marking you… as mine!” I gasped out. Ericka shuddered through one final orgasm and then collapsed, completely spent. She was either unconscious, or on the dark side of the edge of consciousness.

I retrieved a couple of towels from the closet across the room and cleaned up the mess we’d made on the table. I’d give it a full sanitizing… later. Ericka stirred as I dried between her legs. Her big eyes fluttered open and found me.

“Thank you for making me yours forever, Master Ethan.”

I smiled and nodded slightly. She groaned as she stretched on the table. It was a visually impressive stretch. She smiled bashfully and then rolled onto her stomach, crushing her breasts against the table and pointing the twin globes of her spectacular ass toward the ceiling.

“I saved a… virginity… for when I found my true master,” she said shyly.

She had an exquisite ass.

* * *

Warmth. Softness. Sexy female smells. Was it Christmas again?

I opened my eyes to see cinnamon brown hair with the back of a delicate neck peeking through it. Hadn’t Ericka been in that spot when I went to sleep? I couldn’t tell. It had been a wonderful Christmas, complete with a very filling vegan dinner. The softness cuddled up behind me was busty, but not at an Ericka level. Where had the birthday girl gotten off to?

I nosed through the cinnamon brown hair and nibbled on the alabaster neck. Shannon’s firm little ass wiggled against my stomach. She wasn’t a tall girl, but she packed a lot of sexy into a small package.

“Good morning Master Ethan.”

I looked over Shannon and saw Ericka standing in the bedroom doorway in all her naked glory. Her hands were behind her back, thrusting her stupendous breasts out even further.

“Happy Birthday, Ericka.”

“Good morning Master Ethan,” came in stereo from Shannon and from Carolyn, snuggled up behind me.

“Good morning girls. I hope you both had as wonderful a Christmas as I did.”

“Mmm,” said Carolyn, her hand sliding over my hip to encircle my cock. “And an incredible Christmas night, too.”

“Behave,” I told her. “This is the birthday girl’s day.”

She removed her hand, apologizing contritely to me and to Ericka.

* * *

Ericka had become my part-time office manager immediately, moving to full-time when she graduated. She handled all of the scheduling, accounting, and other “business stuff” that had so plagued me. With her as my receptionist and office manager I was able to take on more clients, leasing two additional treatment rooms. Even then, I was still scheduling a couple of months into the future. Ericka had done some social media marketing and the flood of glowing reviews on the various business rating sites had soon put me right back in the position of having far more business than I could handle. Fortunately I had Ericka to deal with that for me. She’d moved in with me just days after I enslaved her.

July had brought Carolyn. At twenty-seven, she was a licensed acupuncturist who wanted to learn more than the Westernized training she’d received. My reputation led her to my door, asking to intern with me and learn from me. It seemed like a good way to deal with my huge client backlog, so I’d agreed. She was competent, and she learned the Eastern techniques quickly under my tutelage. We worked well together, so we decided to make it a two therapist practice, with Carolyn as my employee, just like Ericka. We moved the practice to a larger suite one floor up in the building.

My perceptiveness had greatly increased when I’d used the Nine Needles on myself, and I knew that I could make even greater improvements if I used them on myself again, but I resisted doing so. Not long after we’d moved to our new space, though, I used the Nine Needles on Carolyn. As I’d suspected, she had the heart of a slave and the pain and sorrow of having no Master in her life. I used the Ninth Needle and the soft, curvy blonde became my willing, happy slave.

While Carolyn was good, she didn’t have the advantages that I had. I was able to use the Nine Needles to improve her empathic diagnostic abilities to a degree, but they still paled in comparison to mine. With the constant flow of clients, many who needed diagnostic abilities beyond Carolyn’s (or any other normal acupuncturist’s) simply weren’t able to be scheduled with me. I knew that I could improve my abilities even more. In September, once again I used the Nine Needles on myself. With my abilities further focused and unleashed I was able to do even more in-depth diagnosis on clients who came into the office, even without being in the same room with them. A pair of tablet computers let Carolyn and I chat back and forth so I could share insights about her clients with her as I worked on my own clients.

My abilities weren’t the only thing that was unleashed when I used the Nine Needles on myself. Once again the primal male energy inside me asserted itself. The hunger was back. This time, though, I recognized it as the dominant Master within me. I had plenty of experience being that person when Ericka or Carolyn (or, increasingly, both of them) were in private with me. Sometimes “Nice Guy Ethan” wondered if “Primal Male Ethan” was supposed to be my natural state. He did seem to be in control more and more often.

With the hunger upon me, I knew what I needed to sate it. Fortunately, my expanded abilities helped me find Shannon. The girls and I were eating at our favorite vegan/macrobiotic restaurant when I sensed a slave’s need nearby. A slow walk to the restroom let me localize the sensation to the kitchen. Returning from the restroom I peeked through the window on the swinging kitchen door to see a pixie of a girl dressed as a head chef staring at me with pleading need in her eyes.

A well deserved complement to the chef, relayed by our waitress, brought the lovely girl to our table. My business card was tucked away in her uniform almost with reverence, and she appeared for an after-hours acupuncture session on her next free night. Within the hour the hunger was sated and I had a little Irish slave who screamed like a banshee when she came. As it turned out, there were some effective ways of silencing her screams.

Shannon insisted on cooking for us, though I never asked her to. Out of necessity, we moved to a larger apartment. There were four bedrooms, but the usual sleeping arrangement was all four of us in the California King bed in my bedroom. My bedroom and Shannon’s were the two that didn’t share a wall with another apartment. We never heard the neighbors on the floors above or below us, so we decided to pretend that they couldn’t hear Shannon when she screamed in ecstasy. Besides, she loved being restrained and gagged, so that usually muffled things to a more reasonable level.

Her bedroom was done in “modern dungeon.” The girl simply loved being disciplined, and “Primal Male Ethan” took great pleasure in applying her collection of paddles, whips, floggers, and canes to her body. I had to control myself, since I could easily injure her tiny body. One solid swat with a rattan caning rod would leave the characteristic parallel lines of an impact bruise that she so craved (she wore the bruises on her ass and upper legs with pride, but always kept them covered in public) and then I would use the energy connection I had with her mind to make successive light taps with the cane deliver the pain and humiliation that she’d have received from full force strikes.

Her bed was designed to work with restraints, including suspension restraints that would bind her hanging in the air. The large wooden “X” of a Saint Andrews Cross was against one wall, ready to bind her in a spread-eagle position that could be rotated from full upright all the way to completely inverted. A couple of other “spanking benches” completed the bondage furniture.

Once in awhile Carolyn or Ericka would ask Shannon for permission to gently “explore” the bondage and discipline fetish with me in her bedroom dungeon. I could simply tell her that we were going to do that, but I never did. My girls all respected each other, and it was just common courtesy to ask.

* * *

December 26th was Ericka’s 24th birthday. I insisted that there be no “combined with Christmas” thing going on with her birthday. We’d had a wonderful Christmas and a satisfying, if a little tiring, Christmas night. This day was Ericka’s.

I looked at the first girl I’d enslaved. Each of my slave girls was special to me in their own way, but Ericka was the first. She’d appeared when I had a great hunger and I didn’t really know how to satisfy it. The connection between me and one of my slaves strengthened gradually over time, and my connection would always be strongest with my first slave girl. I knew how much she loved having my cock pounding into her ass, reveling in the fact that her Master was the only one who had ever taken it and the only one who ever would.

At the moment I could tell that she was trying to hide something, but I didn’t try to find out what. It took a conscious effort on my part not to just automatically know what she was doing. She looked at me and smiled shyly. Bringing her hands around from behind her, she showed me what she had been hiding: Black yoga pants and a certain special sweater.

When I’d asked what she wanted for her birthday, she told me that she wanted to recreate the night I’d enslaved her. I could tell how much she was looking forward to the ten-power orgasm again, and all of the other pleasures from that night. All of our intense sexual experiences over the months since then had given her more control and perspective and she was hoping that it would let her more fully experience the ecstasies I was going to give her.

I smiled to myself. Lovely Ericka didn’t know the many tricks I still had up my sleeve. Maybe her pleasure wouldn’t increase linearly this time. Maybe it would double for each of the ten thrusts, giving her an orgasm that was over 500 times as powerful as a normal orgasm. The birthday girl knew that she was getting what she most wanted, but she would still get a birthday surprise.

END