The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

No warning. I was shocked by the Challenge of an Ancient.

My own arousal had distracted me and cloaked my worst fears. When the night air hissed challenge behind me, I slipped a half step from the tenting and turned about slowly. I beheld Mother Egypt, Isis the Cat in her full avatar of destruction.

The air had taken on the tangible smell of summer storm and her eyes glittered with a soft light that came from no source. Against all that I had believed, I suddenly knew her luminance was a reflection of the Great River. Physical manifestation! Visible sorcery! My sorry brains did a dance of dread.

I peed myself.

I was a coward. I happened to like living. Now I paid more attention to the sand beneath my sandals. It took only that shift of attention to realize that I was in even worse peril than I thought. Under our feet, the breath of Gaea, the Blood of Egypt itself stood ready to rise up and claw at my harmony with the Great River. A surprise then, Isis was not just an Ancient who could swim in the Great River; She was also a sorceress. If Isis could pull the Breath of Gaea from the ground like this and also Voice the Great River, then it was no wonder that the Monkey King, the Scarab, and the Lord of Brine no longer troubled the dreams of humans or our Kin. No wonder She never strayed from Egypt, She could draw on the breath of the land She had mapped in Her mind.

Cave felis. Beware the Cat.

It didn’t mean a thing that She shouldn’t be here or that Salamander had sworn She was limited to Her dens in Bubastis and Cairo. It meant less that I could run faster than a thrown spear. It amounted to nothing that I was the best and last of my clan. Not in the face of Isis, the Temple That Walks.

I would be the next old Evil to perish.

And in the light of Mother Night, the soft silver light of star and moon, I saw why this one Ancient had gathered so many mortal names and so many worshippers. She was exquisite. I felt Her impatient wait for my answer to Her Challenge. I knew the Breath of Egypt hungered for my Blood.

Then I smelled Her sex.

My nose howled and saliva spilled from my mouth as my tongue flushed with heat. My ear tips burned. Each of my six nipples stretched tight beneath my stolen Roman armor, begging for a touch. The slippery folds between my legs covered the sweet smell of my urine by washing my thighs with tart scented arousal.

I moved my tongue across my canine fangs and searched my blunted wits for something bright and clever to say to my Death. “Hail, Ancient Isis. I’ve—uh, heard a lot about you. This is an honor. But you really wouldn’t—er, like my brains I’m afraid. They’re a bit small and pallid.” I swallowed.

Last of my clan. Great-great granddaughter to the King of Golden Vermin and I sounded like a green Senator from Gaul.

Dog shit.

I, Mother Egypt, had called, and the Great River had poured forth.

An open well, from which I could tap; long ago the land had taught me it’s darkest secrets for defending it so well against those who would dare harm it. It always came to me when I called, when I was in need, and it was always then I felt most alive.

My skin felt like lightening, and my blood boiled, my eyes burned with the River’s potency. I was no longer simply Bast, the Cat, Mother of Egypt. For this insignificant moment in time, I held the flow of the River within my very body, and I could tear this simple-girl asunder, Kin of our Blood or not.

I did not know her, or her Blood. She was new to me, a newly born foal still crawling out of its yolk, and twice as scared.

I didn’t need to know her. I didn’t care. She was young, and impressionable. I could see the fear in her eyes, the slight trembling in her body, as she turned to face me. She knew me, and that was enough. Her Blood was fresh; as Old as she was, she was merely a girl in my eyes.

The Young are always impressionable. Her fear was as palatable as the lightning buzzing across my skin, and in my veins. This was my land. I did not tolerate the Unwelcome, and this Youngling of the Kin had stumbled into my den. Either she was too full of herself to think she could escape my notice, or she was under the force of the Salamander.

I didn’t care.

Either way, she had violated my sands, and she would pay. My lips slowly curled back, revealing my sharp teeth. I gave her Death’s Grin. The stench of her urine didn’t take long to hit my nose. I could have slain her at any moment. I sensed her Power, and her link to the River. Perhaps outside my homeland she would’ve withstood a chance of running from the storm of my fury, and managed to live another day.

Not here. Not within my dessert.

I could see the realization in her eyes. I could smell the stink of her cowardice that stained her loins.

But I wanted answers. I wanted the plans, and designs of that despicable bastard that were within that small head of hers. The dead don’t speak very well.

Another step and I smelt something else, too.

Again, I grinned. Even through that unkind odor that stained her uniform, I could scent the touch of sex, and arousal. Mother Night whispered its source to me. The girl reeked of it, as much as she did urine. Her words were unsure, and slow, her thoughts scattered like the sand in violent storm.

In that shaky voice there was no great sense of strength, no confidence.

She feared. She could feel what I was capable of.

This Dance would be smooth, and quick, and hardly worth a story. I listened to her unstable words, and inwardly I grinned. Mother Night had blessed her favored yet again.

The intruder had already given herself to me. She just didn’t know it yet.

The River rippled, with the anger in my voice, I sent it through the air, and I watched it’s flow rack the Young One’s very fiber. “Who,” I hissed, “Are you, that you think you can befoul my sands with your footsteps, intrude upon my home with harm for intent?”

I took a step forward, exerted my presence over her, flexing myself upon her being. She had already fallen. I could Sing. I could order her face into my warm thighs, and make her mine without so much as the effort of a breath. But I wanted her pure. I wanted her to be mine, by her own choice, by her own words, by her own convictions. I wanted the gift of her very soul, and she would present it to me in her own dirty hands.

Those are the victories most cherished and most worthwhile.

I didn’t give her the chance to respond, just yet, throwing my Power further into her chilled skin, “Who are you, that you think you can spy and plot upon my daughter without retribution?” I sneered, ceasing my stride only inches from her. My soul grinned, fearsomely. I looked down at her, and demanded one last question, knowing she’d stand no more chance against me than a straw hut facing the brunt of a sandstorm. “And who are you, Oh Young One, of Newer Blood, to tell me that I would not find your brains delicious? Ever since I tasted the Monkey King, I’ve been trying to find a flavor as sweet. Perhaps you are it.” Again, I my lips curled back, bright teeth grinning Death’s Smile. She was going to topple like a dessert-worn obelisk, right here, in front of me. And I would savor every precious moment.

Daughter?!! Cleopatra was Her daughter? Rough of the River! I had heard stories that humans could mate with us but hadn’t believed!

Isis stood close enough that I could smell Her scented breath. Her robe was not closed and caressed her body with the sea winds. My ears throbbed. The sweat under Her arms was a deeper scent than the moist sweetness under the full sway of Her breasts. I sucked drool from my mouth. A haze of Gaea’s breath had started to form about Her legs and the smell of storm was stronger than my own stink.

I couldn’t smell anything now but Isis in her power.

I realized I was shivering. I felt shame at my arousal, but could not find the shock to wake me from it. “I am Vermineid. I come in peace and have done no harm to your daughter, oh Mother Isis.” My voice was steadier, but Her eyes—. Oh, Great River Her eyes were glowing stronger. I felt dizzy with the rush of Egypt heeding Her call beneath my feet. “I will leave in peace if You wish. I will leave now.”

She said nothing. I tried to meet Her gaze and wait Her out. It was only by Her leave that I could walk from these sands alive.

She said nothing, only smiled, pulling her lips back further from her gleaming teeth.

I didn’t even realize I had fallen to one knee until I wondered at her sudden height. I opened my mouth to plead safe passage and pledge never to return. My mouth was numb now, my tongue hot and fiercely aching. My heart pounded. I knew if I took my eyes from Hers—She would open my skull and begin to eat my flesh.

I used my will to keep my eyes on Hers. Straining. The smell of Her Shrine At The Delta of Two Legs was stroking my face and neck. The blade of my nose howled to my ancestors that I was gifted with a Talent that did me only harm here in the obedient sands of Egypt.

Eyes. Sands. Obedient. Egypt.

I tried one more time to clear my throat and speak. My aching stiff tongue pushed drool from my mouth. My lips were swollen and hot.

Mercy. So hot. My armor too tight.

Eyes. Time. Sands. Aching. Obedient. Tongue. Egypt. Mouth. Swollen.

I swear I tried to rise back to my feet.

I swear that what I wanted to do.

I swear.

I lurched forward and buried my aching mouth in Her Shrine. Brilliant light smothered me. My tongue burned in the Great River. Oh, Isis, please I was never a creature of words. Oh, Isis, please I was never a creature of—. Oh, Isis, please I was never a creature—. Oh, Isis, please I was never—. Oh, Isis, please I was—. Oh, Isis, please I—. Oh, Isis, please—. Oh, Isis—. Oh—.

I watched the scruffy girl fall in pure fear and heat upon her desire. Down, to one knee. The shame on her cheeks burned her face more than light of the sun could in a week. It was intoxicating. I felt drunk, on the wholesomeness of her submission to me, for I’d done little to bring it forth.

This was natural. It was pure. It was how I wanted it.

She was broken, and still tried to hold her will to mine. I gave her a small note of credit for that. I gave her more credit for the purity of her tongue as she fell into me. I welcomed it; it thrust its way into my temple.

She was well practiced. Never had my loins burned. The scorching sands of Egypt could not compare. It had never been like this in these long, eternal years. Her swollen tongue pushed the potency of the River back into me, and I felt the smoke of my pleasures set the air afire. She drank my Temple, suckled the Blood of Egypt from me. We both fell into the River. We drowned.

The sands savored my flesh, and enveloped me as I fell upon them. I could never let her go. A thousand sun’s heat sizzled about us, and I pushed her deeper with my trembling legs. I trapped her, there. The River swelled! I would never let her go. Never...

I could still feel the hot smoke from my aching sex. She was asleep, between my thighs, her lips and face sticky with the water of my Temple. I couldn’t help but smile at her. No, I would not kill this one.

I sang a lullaby, softly, enfolding the gentleness of the River around her. It wouldn’t do for her to wake. Not yet. I had plans, for this one.

I scooped her small frame up, and carried her to my chariot.

She had given me my due. She had thrown herself upon me, and bared her soul. No other Ancient had offered a gift to beg forgiveness for treading upon my sacred sands. It was because of this that I would bring her back, to my sacred temple in secret, and there I would make her mine. Perhaps there were things to look forward to after all in the slow drudgery of eternity.