The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Perthias, prince of Erecia, wasn’t quite sure what was going on...it had all happened so fast. It had been a normal day in the kingdom—going out wenching in the taverns, back to listen to boring old lectures from his teachers, and then perhaps a little light sword practice and then to bed. But the upstart mage Rampillion had seized control of things before he could even realize it. One moment he was strolling down the palace corridors and the next, a blow to the back of his head had stolen his consciousness. When he next came to, he was in the dungeon, barely able to breathe and nursing a swollen head.

He only found out what was happening from the whispered conversations the guards were having outside his cell door. Besides, the state of affairs, dire though they were, seemed to be the least of his problems.

His body had been changed—changed beyond all recognition. He had always been a strapping young man—not exactly tall dark and handsome, but possessed of a fine enough body and strong, supple limbs that turned the heads of noblewomen and commoners alike. He fancied that when he went wenching and whoring (which was often) that the girls he bedded didn’t find it too much of a chore to submit themselves to his eager attentions. Sandy blond hair (that came from his father’s side of the family...his mother and sister were dark-haired) and muscles honed from years of practice in swordplay—not too shabby, if he did say so himself.

But now he looked completely different. Where there had been a thin sheen of muscle on his abdomen and chest, now they fairly rippled with corded flesh. His arms and legs had grown larger—indeed his entire body had. He must have been seven feet at least, a veritable giant of a man. He felt stronger, more powerful, more virile—ready to take on anything and everything...if he wasn’t chained to the wall of a dungeon, that is.

Those were not the only things that had changed. He had always been proud of his the size of his cock—it was above average, or at least, that was what all the serving maids whom he had bedded had told him again and again—though a niggling voice at the back of his head asked him repeatedly whether or not they were just saying that because he was the prince. But the...the...THING between his legs now beggared all belief. It was larger at rest than his previous one had been erect, a whorled and veined monster projecting between his legs. He remembered all the jokes he and his soldiers shared back in the barracks about horse cocks...this was a reality that was far from jovial.

He lay in chains for how long he couldn’t tell, drifting in and out of wakefulness. Someone came to spoon feed him occasionally so he didn’t starve, and slowly he felt strength return to his tired limbs. But lying there insensate, he felt the stirrings of something else as well...desire. Desire like he had never experienced before. It wasn’t the usual stirrings in his loins every time he saw a pretty girl past by—this was something different altogether. It buffeted him like a storm, tossed his weary body in its wake, and hardened his already stiff member into steel-like rigidity.

He needed to have sex. It burned in him like a flame, rendering him powerless in its grip. His new body came with new urges, new wants, and his was undoubtedly one of them. He needed it...oh how he needed it! Whatever had turned him into whatever he was now had also caused him to desire fornication like a hungry man wants food. If he had thought he had been horny before, it was nothing to the intensity of these urges.

But lying there in chains, there was no way at all for him to slake the unnatural forces that twisted and writhed within him, and so he was forced to languish, waiting, waiting for succor that never came. He couldn’t even touch himself since his hands were chained to the wall, and so he breathed heavily, cursing the usurper and dreaming of lusty ladies and freedom.

The day dawned and brought with it rescue of a sort. Two soldiers—Rampillion’s personal guard, most probably, he had never seen them before—came up to him dragged him roughly away from his cell and into the castle grounds proper. With his new girth and strength, he thought to resist their non-too gentle efforts, but his imprisonment and his desires had sapped his vigor and addled his mind, and so he let himself be brought to wherever it was they were taking him to.

Which apparently was to women of all types, shapes and sorts. At this point he didn’t much care what they looked like. The spell that had transformed his body had intensified in power during the night, until all he wanted to do was fuck—the saying that beggars could not be choosers most definitely applied to him right now. His member had become so engorged and so large that it threatened to burst the confines of the flimsy loincloth that he had been provided with, and he would have felt shame at how lewd a display he was making as he was led through the castle that had once been his home...except that he was too horny to feel anything but sexual desire.

So when the first willing woman touched his inflamed manhood, he almost exploded there and then, but instead he somehow managed to wait until he sheathed himself in her warm slit and came there instead. Whatever had been done to him had also increased the volume of his spending, and it felt like a fountain was spurting from his huge cock. In the fugue of lust that he found himself in, he couldn’t even remember who it was that he was fucking—a chambermaid? A noblewoman? One of the rare female guards...it didn’t matter. He needed to mate, and as the day wore on his needs were sated amply.

He felt like a prized bull, and in some ways he was. He was brought around to service the women of the castle, whenever they wanted, however they wanted. There was a certain irony in it that he couldn’t fail to see. In the past he devoted a non-inconsiderable amount of time chasing tail, and now he was getting all the pussy he could handle and more. But it was different now. Instead of being the one in charge, he was slave to the desires of others. No more the dashing and handsome prince, causing maidens to swoon at his presence...instead, a thickly muscled and perpetually horny lean giant of a man, completely at the mercy of any female who so much as touched him. All the strength and power of his new form was nothing before the light touch of girl or woman—he found himself helpless to do anything but comply with any of their requests.

He wasn’t sure if this was the gods punishing him for his past indiscretions, but there was a part of him which certainly felt so. Daphnia had been forever remonstrating him for his philandering ways, and perhaps this was his time to pay the piper. Back then it had seemed a natural thing to do—he was a man, after all, with needs, and what was the use of being the prince of a kingdom if it didn’t mean having his way with fair maidens from time to time? His sister and mother had things well in hand, and it wasn’t as if he had shirked ALL his princely duties...just the ones he didn’t want to do.

But that was all far away and gone now. His days now consisted of mindless fornication with whoever his handlers brought him to. It wasn’t as if the women he was made to fuck were hideous—far from it. Some of the noblewomen were quite comely indeed, and he would have gladly tupped them even in his former body. He did enjoy the adoring eyes of the maids and serving girls, and though he raged at his imprisonment, his male pride did find some small relief in how taken his lovers were with his bulging biceps and huge member, cooing and stroking him as he ravaged them mercilessly.

If he were only allowed to stroke himself, he could at least manage to take care of his own needs—but instead he was chained to the walls each day as he was led back to his cell. As it was, his only relief could be found in the warm tunnels of the females that he serviced every day. The part of his mind that actually remembered the lessons he had been taught at the hands of his tutors could see the sweet intricacy of the trap set for him—he would spend each night in restless agony, unable to come on his own, and then have to lick, suck and fuck his way to a measure of release the next day...only to have to all taken away from him again as the evening dawned. They were shackles no less real than the ones that encircled his hands and feet. Whoever this Rampillion was, he was as sadistic as he was clever.

He wondered what had happened to Daphnia and his mother...he was sure his sister would have tried to challenge the usurper at some point, but evidently he had failed. He hoped that they had both gotten away at some point, but somehow he doubted it. He saw the changes to the kingdom, but all he could really afford to pay attention to was the constant engorgement of his member. He smiled ruefully as he remembered the many times his elder female relatives had chastised him for thinking with his other head...now it seemed that that was the only thing he could. Escape plans danced through his mind—try to disarm the guards when they unshackled him? Make a mad dash for freedom while he was being brought through the gardens? (it was the widest and broadest area of the castle, his new muscles would ensure a head start, surely...) but he discarded them even as one by one popped into his head. Even if he did manage to get away from the castle, his increased appetites and sheer size—he definitely looked different from most of the male population—would ensure that he was found out sooner or later.

No, there was nothing to do but bide his time, bide his time and hope.

It was another day in the stocks, trying and failing to contain the burning sensation in his loins, when she arrived.

He was barely aware of the cell door swinging open, but the moment she walked in his member engorged and stiffened at the sight of her, and he couldn’t blame it. She was quite possibly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life.

Back in his time as the prince of the kingdom, he had his pick of maidens fair and dainty, and he had slept with small, lithe things with long and graceful limbs, to buxom barmaids, full-fleshed and passionate and everything in between. None of them looked like the woman standing in front of him. He actually couldn’t tell if she was a girl or a woman—she looked to be at that age where a female is just on the cusp of womanhood but has not crossed that barrier yet.

But no woman or girl possessed a body like the one that was standing in front of him, driving him nearly insane just by looking at her. She had a figure like you could not imagine—slender but curved in all the right places. Long legs and wide, flaring hips, to say nothing of the sharp but gentle lines of her heart-shaped face, one would have driven the high-priced courtesans of the realm green with envy. All that with gold-flecked eyes the color of sapphires, and a long waterfall of shimmering hair.

She had the largest breasts of any female he ever seen, but somehow, they sagged not an inch, riding high and proud on her chest. One would have expected breasts that large to look absurd or ridiculous on such a sylphlike frame, but they complemented her perfectly, set off by the fullness of her behind and the rondure of her hips. They sloped gracefully down, half teardrop, half spheres, and it was all he could do to tear his eyes away from them.

And she was blue. As in, her skin was blue—a deep shade of cobalt that seemed to glow and shine as she walked towards him. Combined with her silver hair and golden eyes, the effect was no less than spectacular. He noticed absently that even her small, pert nipples and large areolae were also blue, a deep shade of azure that contrasted with the color of her skin.

She walked towards him slowly as he lay there, mouth agape, and placed a cool, soft hand on his raging erection. He had to stifle a sharp breath and close his eyes...God, it felt so good! Like he was going to spurt off just there and then. Their eyes met and he held his gaze for a few seconds, smiling an impish smile. A few more strokes and she had brought him to the edge, and he took in a hasty breath to prevent himself from coming—an effort which soon proved useless, as with a giggle, she stroked him to a swift climax immediately after.

He came and came and came some more, and in seconds there was a small puddle of white goo on the cell floor, as well as spatters of come all over his muscled thighs. She knelt to clean his body and his still-hard member slowly, alternating long, slow licks with fast, quick ones, and he had barely had enough time to recover from his first orgasm before a second one was almost upon him. As if she could sense the changes in his body, she locked eyes with him again, gave him a lascivious smile...then fastened her plush lips around his member and sent him to heaven once again, a climax that sent him over the edge and into oblivion.

When he finally came to, she was gone, and all that remained of her passing was the come on the floor and her saliva drying on his legs. His body had been licked clean of his spending—the mysterious maiden had quite the appetite for semen, or so it seemed. He didn’t know why she was here, or where she had come from, but he was very grateful for the relief that she provided.

Her visits were irregular at best. And when she wasn’t around, he would content herself with fever dreams of her light silver hair and blue skin, her enormous chest, swaying ever so slightly with her every motion.

The only thing was that, restrained as he was, he was unable to actually touch herÅcthe things he wanted to do to that body! As it was, he had to be content with handjobs and blowjobs and the way her agile tongue danced up and down his tumescent organ oh so adroitly.

But he would take what he could get, and the orgasms he had at her skilled hands at least took the edge of his perpetual horniness. He no longer felt like he was going to go mad from desire, and between her ministrations and his daily rounds, he was able to retain some semblance of sanity amidst all the changes that had happened to him.

He tried many times to talk to her, but all he got in return were giggles and laughs. Once, in the throes of an especially violent eruption that sent his seed flying halfway across the room, she had laughed and babbled something in an alien language that sounded like waterfalls. Panting as he came down from his high, he had attempted conversation once more, but all he got in response were blank looks and smiles.

She seemed content to just give him handjobs, though he was sure that she felt desire for him as well—he saw the hungry way she would look at his cock when, and more than once when she left, he spotted a trail of clear fluid working its way down her thighs. But there was no way to know why she was doing what she was...maybe she had been ordered not to have sex with him, maybe she wanted to but could not. There were as many unknowns about her as the orgasm that he had at her hands.

Like for instance, what manner of creature WAS she? Normal human girls didn’t have blue skin, or breasts half the size of watermelons. He dimly recalled a long-ago conversation with his sister in which she talked about ancient magics used to enslave unsuspecting victims, turning them into oversexed caricatures of humans, unable to do anything more than mate furiously. She had also implied archly that he might prefer to be one of those instead of the prince of the realm...but now that he was, he found that he longed for the relative normalcy of his princely life.

All that didn’t explain what she was, though. If they were both indeed transformed slaves, why was his skin color different than hers? She also seemed far more able to control her desires...in all the time they had spent together, she had not had sex with him even once. Was she from a different country? That would explain the language barrier...so many questions so few answers.

Her visits sometimes seemed to be the only thing keeping him sane. After weeks (months? he had no way of telling time) of captivity, he had more control over his new body, but it still felt like he was going to explode most of the time. He tried deep breathing, and all the mental techniques that he had learnt from his tutors, and he was surprised to find that they helped a little...but only a little. His new body still had him deeply in its thrall, and thoughts of mating consumed most of his waking moments.

Then one day his wishes came true—after a fashion.

She had come to him in at night while he was dozing, and he was roused from his fitful slumber by her girlish giggle and her light-fingered touch upon his rod. He liked how she had moods—one day she would go straight for his cock, sucking at voraciously, and at others she would first begin by tracing lines all over his muscled chest, pausing to lick his earlobes and bite ever-so-slightly at them.

Today was one of the latter days. He had his eyes closed as usual, letting out soft groans at her able attentions until he looked down and saw her take his length into her mouth in a single, swift motion. He was so surprised at the sudden change in her pace that he came right there and then, and as his vision wavered with the intensity of his climax, he could still see her elfin face smiling at him as she gulped everything down. He wasn’t sure if he was more amazed that she was able to swallow his copious load or take it into her mouth, or both.

She licked her lips and stood suddenly, batting her long, fairy-like lashes at him. Something was different today, he could sense it. Could today be the day? He felt his organ begin to harden again at the thought...gods dammed slave body, getting aroused at even the notion of sex. Either that or it was her body that made the difference—beauty seemingly made by the heavens themselves.

She leant over to kiss him and he could feel the hunger in her lips and tongue as it slipped into his mouth, a supple yet welcome intruder. Could it be that she might actually, that she was going to—his wild imaginings were cut off by her breaking their lip lock and moving down to nuzzle at his neck lightly, her huge breasts pushing up against his chest. He could feel her nipples hardening, twin hard diamonds of desire seemingly to cut deeply into his muscled abdomen.

Despite just coming a few moments ago, his erection was now at full mast, standing proud and strong. She reached up to kiss him again, and even through the fog of desire that enshrouded him, he was relieved that he couldn’t taste himself on her plush lips.

The kiss broke and she smiled again, another of her impish smiles. Then utterly without preamble, she spun around and slid his erect member into her in a single practiced motion.

He was so shocked it was a few moments before he could even register what was happening, but when the reality of the situation hit him, his eyes almost rolled back in his head. She had finally done it...they were actually having sex. She was so hot and wet that it took all his self-control not to shoot off another load there and then. As it was, he lasted barely a few seconds before he came deep inside her with what seemed to him like the force of a volcano.

The power of his orgasm actually knocked him out for a while, and went he came to, the first thing he was aware of was his lover bouncing up and down on his amazingly STILL erect member. She turned around in mid-bounce to acknowledge his awoken state and smiled again, still the same impish grin whose playful nature was seemingly at odds with the activity she was engaged in. But then again, she was a study in contrasts—slim yet curvy, graceful and wanton, a vision of desire sculpted in blue and silver.

Being shackled to the wall meant that he could do nothing but watch at she continued to fuck herself back onto his sitting form. Her eager motions made him come in under a minute, but she kept on moving even through his next orgasm—a feat impossible by normal human standards. And somehow, his new body was able to remain hard after coming for the third time in a row...he was adrift in a haze of pleasure, the sensations on his cock, her insides clenching around him, and her long silver hair whipping against his face as she continued her frenzied motions. The unmistakable sounds of fucking filled the room—flesh slapping on wet flesh, only punctuated by her high-pitched squeals and his own incoherent grunts.

He came in under a minute, and then again soon after. She seemed insatiable, content to do nothing but jounce and slam herself down on him. The only difference in her movements was that after a few minutes she turned around so that she could kiss him as they fucked. If he had thought her nipples were hard before, now they were almost painful to touch as she pressed herself against him.

He couldn’t take it any longer. With a savage roar, he brought down his hands with all the force he could muster, and the chains that held him to the wall snapped with a loud crack. Pure lust had given him inhuman strength, and the first thing he did was seize his enthusiastic lover and press her down to the floor.

The thought of escape didn’t even enter his lust-addled mine—the prince could think of nothing except the willing female in front of him. They were possessed by something older than time, more ancient than even the magics binding them.

As they mated, their fevered motions caused her immense chest to bounce into his view, and he paused in his frenetic fucking to palm both large orbs. Finally he could put his hands on what had been the object of his desire for, and he groped them for all they were worth. They were so large than even his enlarged hands could barely contain them, and they overflowed his sweaty palms easily. He knelt to suck at each dainty nipple and was rewarded for his efforts by hearing her coo into her ears.

He must have come eight times or more, but who was counting? A new position came to mind, and he hoisted her legs above his head and slammed home for all he was worth. Seeing her writhe in delight beneath him—huge tits bouncing, eyes closed and mouth open in ecstasy, silver hair flying—he thought he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

They came again and again, mating furiously. Her slim feet drummed on his back, wordlessly urging him on to greater heights of exertion, and he complied, pistoning in and out of her with as much force as he could manage. He groaned and she squealed, his sounds mixing with hers in a cacophony of wordless pleasure. It felt so good to be sheathed in her wet pussy. Weeks of pent up urges exploded out of him again and again in torrents of spunk, and someone he was able to keep going, thrusting even as he spurted into her.

Eventually their mutual desire were sated briefly, and they disengaged for a time, both of them a sweaty mess from their exertions. Her silver hair had become lank and sodden from sweat, but her smile remained as bright as ever. They took about half a minute to catch their breath, but soon desire had them in its grasp again, and without a word, his lover had gotten down on all fours. She reached back to part her pussy lips, gleaming with the sheen of their combined fluids, and presented her full ass to him, no less magnificent than her immense chest.

He didn’t need to be asked twice. In seconds he had speared her on his rod again, burying himself up to the hilt, and their bodies once again began their dance of endless pleasure. He reached around to cup her giant breasts in his hands and bit gently at her neck as he pumped into her, palming her tits at the same time. As another orgasm neared, his hips shot forwards, trying to go as deep into her as he possibly could. Her cunt was a hungry mouth, milking him for as much as he could possibly spend. Before long, he had crested his peak again, moaning lustily as she milked another load from his engorged organ.

After the ardor of the first few rounds, they settled into a comfortable rhythm. His thrusts were slower now, and there was even enough time to take a few deep breaths and share a few kisses before they resumed their carnal activities. Her long legs and slim frames proved helpful into getting her into various configurations...he took her on her back, and all the time she continued to squeal and giggle in a way that inflamed him more than her generous proportions.

Not to say that he didn’t enjoy those, either. Even as the Crown Prince, with his pick of barmaids and serving girls both, he had never taken a woman with curves as lush as hers before. Magic had granted his erstwhile lover proportions that no human woman had any business having—breasts the size of cantaloupes, high and full and firm, capped with nipples of cobalt blue that only served to set off her skin. Wide, flaring hips and a behind no less plush and full than her front. He smothered himself in her, kissing, licking and sucking each square inch of her body as she whimpered in bliss and squeezed herself around his rigid shaft. He had no idea how she managed control like that—he guessed it was more elfslut magic.

He lost himself in her voluptuous body, her azure skin and soft curves. Her long hair flailed around as they rocked into each other, falling like a sheer curtain around his too-broad shoulders. She even smelled sweet—not the usual odor of sweat that human woman had, but something almost akin to the scent of jasmine.

Somewhere in between what must have been the twentieth to thirtyeth orgasm, he lost consciousness again, drowned in her sweet caresses and even sweeter tunnel. And when he came to she was gone.

She didn’t visit for weeks afterwards, and he was back to the same torture as before. Though he was let out to service the female staff of the castle as usual, his thoughts were only with the strange, beautiful and mysterious girl that had brought him such rapture. He yearned for her, pined for her with an intensity that was even more powerful than his constant horniness—if that was even possible! Even when he had been a lovesick youngster experiencing the first bloom of carnal hunger, he had never desired anything or anything this much.

His unquenched desires began to affect his daily rounds as well, and so his handlers let him visit the other slave girls once he almost torn apart a maid with savage thrusts, and he was glad of the relief they provided. They weren’t as comely as his blue-skinned beauty, but they were all attractive in their own way. They had obviously also been transformed—no normal human females had breasts that defied gravity, bulging mounds that begged to be touched, or long legs that seemed to go on forever. Some were dark-skinned, almost ebony, and yet others had hues ranging from emerald green to golden. He noticed that the more exotically colored ones also had the tapering ears and almond eyes of his lover, and he recalled a long-ago conversation with his sister in which Daphnia had told him about the forbidden transformative magic that made a human woman into an elfslut.

There were more than a few elfsluts among them the many, many slave girls that he met and mated with, but none of them was his. Still, they slaked his thirst With their altered bodies and they were the only ones who could match his passions and even sometimes desire more. He even managed to take more than one of them at a time, lapping at the flowing juices of one as she writhed on his tongue, while thrusting deeply into another. He coupled with the other female slaves as well, but somehow it was only the elfsluts who could match his appetite for debased, furious and constant sex.

There was something about them...their lithe yet voluptuous bodies, so slim yet so full in all the right places. Their large eyes and fine lashes. The way they would stare adoringly up at him while their contoured lips were wrapped around his cock. The jiggling of their heavy breasts as they bounced on top of him, and the sound of their moans and screams as they slammed their hungry twats down on his stiff rod—even their voices were different, high and melodious, almost like birdsong. It wasn’t all about their womanly charms either... there were other smaller things that he loved about his non-human lovers. The sheen of the light reflected off their glossy skins—in so many different colors! Their dainty yet seductive way of walking that involved taking the smallest of steps at a time but somehow managing to swivel their hips enough to attract the attention of any bypasssers—the innocent yet lascivious way they licked their lips whenever he passed by or when they were cleaning off his warm cum from their huge tits. He tried to give them names but there were just too many of them, and so he found himself adrift in a sea of massive breasts, long, tapered ears, firm asses and hungry, hungry slits.

They all seemed to like him as much as he liked them. They would coo, and snuggle up to him, pressing their curvaceous forms against his hard and muscled one. There was no preamble—what need did they have of them? They were slaves—sex slaves, created to do one thing and one thing only. And so they did, in as many positions as their enhanced bodies would allow. He lost count of how many willing sluts he had taken, and how he did so—on tables, chairs, beds, on floors, standing up, sitting down, with their long legs wrapped around his waist or held high above his head. They cried and moaned in pleasure as they sated their unquenchable appetites with each other.

In his days as a prince (which seemed so far away now!) he would have thought that it was impossible to have too much sex. But now he was glutted by it, surrounded by it, completely and utterly consumed by copulation—not quite the life of a sybarite that he had envisioned while younger. A slave to the demands of his new body and his erect cock, which seemed to have a mind of its own. Each day passed with him fucking human women, and then elfsluts at night—he did not think it possible to have too much sex, but then here he was, living out that reality.

Speaking of the elfsluts...not all of them spoke his language, but from talking to the ones who did (when they could both get in a word edgewise through their hunger for each other) he discovered that whatever magic had turned them into elfsluts had also robbed them of their memories. He didn’t know enough about magic to speculate further—his elder sister was the magical one in the family—but whatever the case was, they could only hold a conversation so long before their appetites got the better of them and forced them into frenzied rutting once more.

But still he longed for the return of his nameless nymph. He had more than his fill of lovely women, but somehow his heart had been captured by a sylphlike beauty that he had only exchanged bodily fluids and not even words with. His nights were filled with dreams of her, and he would toss and turn in chains, unable to do anything but pine for her tender caresses. Sometimes he almost wished that she had never come to him in the first place...because now that he had sampled the sweet delights of her body, each restless night was agony and torture both.

One day, though, a visitor came. Not the one he longed for, but a hooded man dressed in robes of the darkest black. One moment he was dreaming of his unnamed beloved (well, he didn’t actually know if he was in love with her or not...) and the next a stranger stood before him.

Long-forgotten soldier senses to the fore, and Perthias sprang to his feet, his hands going reflexively to draw a sword which wasn’t there. Who was this person? Another of Rampillion’s slaves? Why was he here -

The hooded figure cut off his train of thought with a simple gesture, and the transformed prince had the distinct impression that this was not the first time he (it? she?) had done so. “Patience, prince Perthias. I am not here to harm you. Instead, I require your assistance.”

Assistance? With what? How could he possibly assist anything or anyone, trapped and chained like an animal as he was? Perthias narrowed his eyes and told the interloper just that. He had always been told to negotiate from a position of strength, but his current predicament ruled out that option. Better to be as honest as he could. With any luck the stranger might just slip and tell him something of use...he hadn’t spent ALL his time in classes dreaming of beautiful women.

“You are mistaken, prince Perthias. You can indeed help me, but not in the way that you think. All I desire is your pledge that when I call for your assistance, you will render it. Rest assured that it will not comprise your values, or mean harm to anyone you care for. In exchange, I will supply you with information about where your sister and mother have been taken, as well as seeing to your release from this prison.”

He had sat through enough boring council meetings to know when a carrot was being dangled in front of him. He was also wary...Perthias had the sneaking suspicion that this man knew that a royal of Erecia could no more go back on a promise that water could flow upwards. And he would be lying if he said that he was not concerned for his family, or his kingdom.

But something about the stranger’s manner irked him, and his pride, battered and maimed as it was through the last months, came roaring back with a vengeance. They say that the only thing that a desperate man has is pride, and he will cling to that like a beaten dog. So it was with the prince turned slave, and Perthias found himself shaking his head with a fury that surprised even him.

The figure would not be denied, though. Minutes passed, and after a goodly wait, the figure folded its arms and spoke. “What if I told you that I could find the elfslut who you long for?”

So she WAS an elfslut...wait, how did this stranger know of her? The same way he knew that he was the prince of the kingdom, or where his family was, apparently. But this new offer intrigued him a way that the previous one did not. Perthias had his pick of female flesh, if not exactly in the same way as he did when he was still a normal human. But for some reason he still longed for his nocturnal visitor, and the thought of holding her in his arms once more, hearing her giggles and moans and squeals as he thrust deep into her molten insides, affected him more than even the thought of freedom or liberty.

Slowly now. Don’t let him see your eagerness. Trying not to betray any emotion, Perthias leaned forwards as much as his chains would allow. “What would you have me do? He said guardedly.

“Nothing, for now. Simply be alert and be ready to respond to my summons.”

“And you will find my love for me, and my family, as well as see to my release?”

He felt rather than saw the figure smile. “You drive a hard bargain, prince. But yes, I agree to those terms, as long as you agree to mine.”

A few long moments passed, and the prince nodded. In truth, he had asked for all three things because he stood nothing to lose and everything to gain. His desperation granted him courage as well. It all seemed too good to be true, but there was little else he could do at the moment.

And then the mysterious stranger vanished as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Perthias with questions and the familiar pulse of desire. His balls throbbed, letting him know that they hadn’t been emptied in almost half a day. He sighed and tried his best to ignore them. Who would it be tomorrow? Another lady-in-waiting with an inattentive husband? A gaggle of chambermaids, ready for their first sexual experience? He had no idea and no way to tell, and it all didn’t really matter anyway.

But at the least he had his own elfsluts at the end of the day to look forwards to. Exhausted from their days’ activities, nevertheless, when they saw each other it was enough to arouse them into a hearty tangle of limbs, enough for a good two to three orgasms and then after that, to sleep. And then one day, perhaps, to see his elfmaid again, and beyond that ...freedom.