The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

My village had been attacked and destroyed by the oncoming barbarian horde out of the East. We had no warning and no serious defenses. The village had been overrun in minutes.

I was thrown to the dirt in the tent of the barbarian. Just two hours before, this monster had raped my mother, forcing a passionate response. Then he killed both my parents before my eyes. Now I was alone in the world.

I had disguised myself as a skinny young lad, hoping to escape. Indeed I looked like a boy of 13 or 14 summers with narrow hips and no breasts. To complete the illusion, both my hair and clothes were cut in the male style.

Although approaching my eighteenth summer, my body had not developed like the other girls in my village. While many of them were already married with children at my age, I had never had a single suitor. Those girls who had been captured could shortly expect only brutal rape.

My own captor was a common foot soldier. So low in rank that he had not rated any of the many young captive girls now being distributed for the enjoyment of the army. Instead he had been given a young boy (me) as booty to vent his lusts on.

I was dragged to my feet by my clothes. He spoke in his barbarous tongue, but I could not understand. In response I vowed, “I will kill you for what you did to my family. You have to sleep sometimes. Then you will die by my hand.” He was unable to understand my threats, or he might have killed me on the spot.

Apparently, he had wanted my clothes removed. Now impatient by my failure to respond properly, he took action. Bunching his large muscular arms. He ripped my clothes to shreds. I was naked before him.

My attempts to cover the signs that I was not a lad proved useless. He dragged me to a low couch and facing me down tied my wrists above my head, rendering my helpless. He was preparing to take me from behind as if I was a boy.

Looking down at my exposed form, it was only then that he realized that we were not the same sex. After a moment of astonishment, his large hands clasped me between my legs. A deep belly laugh rumbled through him at the confirmation that I was female.

As easily as a leaf, I was flipped onto my back and my legs tied well apart. The same hand returned to the juncture of my thighs. His other meaty paw began exploring my flesh as if trying to determine how I had managed to masquerade as a lad for so long.

I steeled myself against the harsh rape I expected at the barbarian’s hands. I knew it would hurt terribly as the savage ripped the virginity from my defenseless bound body, but I would survive. Later, I would remember my pain and use it to forge my righteous revenge.

“Use me quickly, animal, and be done,” I declared. He did not. Instead his hand ran up and down breasts, belly, and thighs. My breathing deepened. I thought that it must be the chill air that was causing my nipples to tighten.

The hand between my legs had not stopped moving. Indeed, a single finger had slipped into the crack between my nether lips and was gently rubbing the entrance to my maidenhood.

I told him grimly, “I may be bound, helpless, and at the mercy of your hands, but you cannot force me to respond to your barbarous touch.” Even as I spoke those defiant words, I felt a dampness coat the finger that was ceaselessly rubbing my most delicate treasures.

The ruffian now tried to undermine my determined resolve. His head lowering to my breast, he captured on one of my straining nipples between his lips and began to suck on it. His rough beard was irritating the underside of my meager, but susceptible breast.

Such sensations I had never felt. It was as if he were gently tugging on a rope tied from my nipple to the juncture of my legs. I felt a greater wetness there soaking the inciting finger.

I now knew what the barbarian had forced my mother to feel, why she had trembled under his touch, then moaning powerlessly impaled herself again and again upon his foul tool.

I understood that at the end my mother’s screams were not of pain, but of passion and need. A weak female, she had been reduced to begging to be used again. Even knowing that I and my father were watching her debasement she could not stop herself.

Now he was doing the same to me. Inflaming my unprotected and bound flesh with his large, powerful hands. Was the daughter as weak as the mother? Would my unsullied body soon be writhing in passion, begging for defilement?

“Stop! Stop now, you foul swine,” I commanded, gasping for breath. He took my meaning, I think, although the words were foreign. He decided to punish my insolence.

“ooooohhhhhhHHHHH”, I cried out when he touched the center of my thoughts. I’d believed that no one else knew of my secret spot. He used well it against me, sapping my strength and will to resist.

Soon my resistance crumbled under his relentless attack. The demon won by arousing me to undreamed of heights of passion.

I was forced to surrender to his assault. My hips thrust up to push him more firmly against my burning slit. I was unable to form words. Only moans came from my lips.

My own body had betrayed me. It leapt to his touch, headless of my will. Not a strapping lad was I, but a weak female. How easily I had been conquered by his strength.

His conquest was not yet complete. Removing the hand between my legs, he replaced it with his hard wand. The heat of it inflamed me further. I rubbed my wet slit against the demon’s pole.

He moved to wedge the bulbous head between my nether lips. Once there he stopped. To my shame, I felt my own hips thrust upward to push his manhood inside of me.

I thus was obliged to impale my own maidenhood on his fleshy lance. He merely lowered himself slowly, allowing me to do the work. The obscene needs that inflamed my inexperienced body were too overwhelming to resist.

We both felt him push against my maiden’s barrier. The pain, although mixed with keen pleasure, was enough to slow my thrusting. It was time for the barbarian to take full control.

Placing his hands on my hips to hold them steady, he withdrew his lance until only the head remained within. My hips desired to thrust up to recapture him, but they were immobilized by his iron grip.

With a grunt his lance drove forward, spearing through my maiden barrier. “aaaaaiiiiiIIII”, I sobbed in pain and loss, tears filling my eyes. The shredded tissue would never again offer protection.

I had dreamed of giving my virginity freely under the moon of a warm summer’s eve to a boy who whispered how much he loved me. Instead it had been cruelly ripped from me by the foul smelling animal between my splayed legs crushing me beneath his bulk.

In four strokes I felt his loins meet mine. Although he did not stop his thrusts, my pain quickly disappeared. His finger lifted to rub my hard nipples between them. The uninvited passion surged through me once again. My hips, now freed, matched the rhythm of his thrusts.

Resistance long forgotten, I could not think of my village, my friends, not even my lost family, only the unthinking primitive urgency to engulf the demon spear. My carnal need consumed me.

Now the barbarian possessed me totally. I became a rutting animal. Heaving my sex unendingly against his. My thighs lifted to clasp his maleness closer. With each stroke I struggled to push my “secret spot” against his hardness.

I felt an overwhelming sensation build in my belly. I feared it greatly, but was powerless to hinder the unstoppable force. It grew until I could think of nothing else.

Then it exploded from within, destroying my mind, consuming my body in fire and ice. I screamed and clamped down on the hardness within. His tool spewed hot lava into my virgin womb igniting a second explosion that shook me to my core.

His dead weight collapsed on my slight frame. I could barely breath. Finally, he saw my distress. He reached between us. As he withdrew his shrinking tool, he gathered the mingled juices that began leaking from my slit.

Lifting up, he performed a ritual of his tribe. He smeared the blood stained juices across my forehead, my belly, and my breasts marking me as a female whose maidenhood he had claimed.

Lastly he pressed the juices through my lips, onto my tongue, that I might remember the taste of my sundered virginity. After many years, I still recall the slightly salty, tangy flavor mixed with the blood taste of my ruined maidenhood.

He took a small gourd from a chest and mixed the remainder of our juices into its contents. Reaching into my slit many times, he gathered more to be added to the mixture.

When that was done, strange words were uttered and mystical passes made. There was a flash and puff of smoke from the gourd. I was made to repeat his words as he smeared salve from the gourd deep into my slit, onto my breasts, within my mouth, and across my forehead.

I’d felt a deep soreness between my legs. Its first invader had well stretched my virgin slit. That now abated and I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, my breasts felt hot and puffy. My slit was sensitive and wet.

I marveled at how he suddenly looked so powerful, so dominating. I knew that I was female, I must submit, I wished for him to possess me.

Upon seeing me awake, the barbarian fell upon my bound body once again. This time, despite being entered quickly, my body immediately responded.

I was hot and needful for his spear to plunge within my depths. When his lusts were sated, he performed the same mystic ritual again.

Each time I awoke, my breasts seemed bigger and more sensitive. My body responded more quickly and passionately as his manhood plumbed my depths.

I lost count how many times he had me. How many times had I repeated the magic words that were transforming my body and my mind?

I became eager for his touch. Reveling in the feel of his tool and how he possessed me totally. When next I awoke, I was unbound. I stood to examined myself then gasped in astonishment.

No one could possibly mistake me for a boy. Dark tresses fell to my slender waist. My hips and backside were well rounded. My breasts full, firm, and tipped with large ruby red nipples that were well distended.

I had become more voluptuous then any other woman I’d ever seen. How could I sneak through camp and escape looking like this?

I heard a barbarian word spoken. My mind did not understand his command, but somehow as if by magic my body did.

I fell naked to my knees facing my captor. I thrust out my chest to display my breasts. My knees spread wide to display my wet sex. My hands rested palms up on my thighs. I knew this was the first position for a slave girl.

As he spoke each command, my body shifted into other slave positions. Head bent forward ready to be collared. Wrists crossed behind back ready to be bound. I obeyed each command instantly, unthinkingly. My body becoming more aroused each time I submitted to his domination.

With the last command, I found myself face down, back on the couch. My head down and rear quarters high in the air with knees spread. Perfect position to be taken from the rear.

I knew then that I had been transformed into a pleasure slave. My dripping slit anxiously anticipated being cloven by his spear.

As my Master possessed me, I reveled in the feeling of being owned, of being dominated. This is what I needed. I was happy. My former life quickly fading from my memory like a bad dream.