The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

-1-

The next two days were hard on the oarsmen. There was one thought aboard the Lightening: “To the Capitol!” All efforts were bent to that end. Scar maintained a merciless pace. Even the new chaplain was on the deck, pleading with the slaves to push harder.

Bragg rowed to exhaustion every watch. The extra feed he and his mate were given, as First Oars, allowed him the strength to push even harder. Since all the oars were linked and geared together, even his extra efforts drove the rest to a faster pace. Never had the ship moved so quickly, or with greater purpose.

They arrived near the Capitol a half-day before the Princess expected; surely days before news of her escape. The ceaseless “Huh!” of the galley slaves fell silent, and the Princess arranged for the reconnoiter party to be assembled. Gordia was there, as was her big guard, Sam, and Vig brought Bragg. Their Mistress motioned to some peasant’s togs for them to wear, “Put these on. Vig, remove the galley slave’s wrist and ankle cuffs.” The four dressed as instructed. The Princess marveled at how powerful the big slave looked, even when his muscled nakedness was covered in non-descript rags.

“Here are some coins. Take the dingy, row ashore, to the Capitol’s Port. Find out what you can and return within a day. Horsemen will not bring news of my escape for a day or two more. Then I will make additional plans.” Vig saluted, and they left.

The night was lit by a nearly full moon. As soon as the dingy was cast off, Vig had the big slave remove the worn britches and doublet he had on, and take up the oars. Even here, he intended to continue the mind control training his Mistress expected. “As ya row, think only on th’Mistress! Row swift an’ silent!” he cuffed the galley slave, hard enough for the small boat to rock. The slave glared back a him, but tirelessly and quickly rowed in the direction set by Vig, holding a compass, a new type of navigational device, recently brought from the far East.

Sam whispered to Vig, “I know ya need to control th’ slaves, but hasn’t this one proved ‘s worth? A hero an’ our savior?” “Mistress’ slaves, all, us too, are always to be trained. Ya were an oarsman once, an’ she raised you up, as she did me, in the Secret Rite. Th’ harder we are on this’un, the better he’ll be. Isn’t that right, chaplain?” The former nun, gazing at Braggs, nodded.

Gordia stared in awe at the slave’s muscular efforts; at the sweat gleaming in the moonlight. Soon they were out of sight of the ship, not yet in sight of land. Vig and Gordia spoke of what to expect at the Capital. Vig had been there with his Mistress many times. Gordia had been there once, years before. Sam had not. No one asked Bragg, assuming, correctly, that the galley slave had never been near the center of the Empire.

Several hours later, as they sighted the high headlands by the Imperial Harbor, Gordia suggested, “We need to decide our cover story, so we all tell the same tale... What names to use; our origin and destination...” “Best t’ use our own names; say we’re from th’ South, looking for ship work.” “What about him? The Princess called him ‘Bragg’” “Galley slaves are not allowed names. We’ll call him ‘Mule’, an’ say he can’t speak, so no one will hear his Northern accent. Understand slave?” “Ayesir!” “Good, now row harder!”

They came ashore below the headlands, in sight of the walls of the Capitol City’s Port. After finding a protected site for the dingy, they silently trekked up to the road leading to the Port gate which would be closed for the night. Where it crossed a small stream, Vig led them down, below the bridge. “Moon’s setting. We’ll camp here ‘til dawn when the Gates open. Then we’ll go in an’ learn what has happened.” They sat under the bridge, resting quietly a while.

Turning to Gordia, Vig spoke, “Mistress had me train this slave fo’ exhibit at her ship Fests. Watch how I put him through his paces... Slave, strip an’ stand t’ brace!” Bragg jumped up and immediately complied, with a half smile, standing naked with his erection thrusting out. Seeing Gordia’ open-mouthed gaze, he reached around the big galley slave and grasped his erection, pulling back the foreskin to expose the glans. Massaging the cockhead with his thumb, “Gord... when I’m done, ya can suck on this...” Vig continued to order Bragg into exhibit positions, moving him rapidly from one to another. Gordia’s eyes widened in the wane moonlight as she stared, transfixed by the exhibition. Sam nodded to her, “He knows how our Mistress wants her slaves trained; the more they submit t’us guards, the sooner they’re ready for her Worship. But ya know those Rites from the nunnery...” Gordia blushed, “I was but a probationary sister, and have yet to learn all the secrets.” Vig finished and looked up to Gordia, “Ya see how well trained he is...” Standing and stretching, he nodded to the slave, “Use him as ya want.” Vig walked from under the bridge, “Sam, follow, t’ reconnoiter...”

Gordia stood, and walked over to the slave with a shy smile, motioning him down. She stripped and knelt across one of the huge muscled thighs, reaching to stroke his flaccid manhood. The reaction was instant as it hardened in her hand. “Bragg, I want you to do with me what Vig was doing to you... Well, not as harsh... I mean. The Fates will that I not become a Nun, so my virginity is an offering to you; for you are, indeed, a God among men, though bound as I now am, in service to our Lady...” She stopped and leaned over to kiss the enormous manhood throbbing in her fist. How could she hope to take this into herself? She had often dreamed of knowing a man. Now she had to be a daring as her Amazon Princess.

Bragg, being unbound since leaving the Lightening, reached with both arms, pulling the young chaplain around and to him. He swiftly engulfed her in his massive arms. Then Bragg gently pushed Gordia back, and rolled her onto the dry grass under the bridge. Silently, except for the quiet early sounds of a dawn that was not yet visible, Bragg raised her in his arm, and kneeling beneath, began to massage her deeply. He wet the fingers of his other hand with his saliva and inserted, first his forefinger, then a second finger, into her virginity, moistening and loosening her. She moaned.

The big slave leaned closer, placing his engorged cockhead against his fingers, spreading the preliminary emissions. Slipping the fingers out and the cockhead into Gordia, he spoke quietly, “Breathe deep, and it’ll push on in...” As the former nun gasped a breath, Bragg thrust smoothly, impaling her fully. “When you’re ready, it’ll start pumpin’...”

Gordia took another deep breath, “Now. Please, now...” With that permission, the slave began to rhythmically pump his erection while maintaining tight contact with the girl. He quickened the tempo, knowing that the young girl should not bear his weight too long. Rapidly his thrusts built in tempo, his erection swelled deep within her, and pushing firmly even deeper, he released himself completely, emptying his manseed. She moaned and uttered the ritual words of her Order, “May this offering please our Goddess..”

After he was drained, Bragg stretched forward, carefully keeping his weight on knees and elbows, but covering Gordia with his hard body. His erection remained firmly implanted. As they lay together, catching their breath, Gordia began to massage the big slave. Soon, breathing together, Gordia felt closer to the slave laying on her than she had ever felt toward another.

“You feel so wonderful. This is something we will do very often. I must have you over and over again... Does your Mistress have you like this often?” “Nup.” “Alas, she does not know what she missing. I shall have to keep you trained for her.” They lay quietly together as dawn’s light invaded the shadows beneath the bridge.

They were woken from dozing by Vig’s return and hard slap across the galley slave’s bare buttocks. Before either could move, though, Vig was down on one knee and had his massive arms wrapped around both. “Ya look real rested. Th’ City Gate’s opened. Soon as th’ crowds come, we’ll enter. But we’ll see what we got here first...” He pushed one hand deep between the slave’s ass cheeks, first squeezing his testicles, then, finding the shaft still impaling Gordia, he began stroking it, with his forefinger slipping into the girl’s sex. He chuckled softly as the big slave hardened and Gordia began to squirm under the assault. He put more weight on the two, “Now ya stay still ‘til I’m done...” He turned to Sam, “She changed from nun t’ whore wit’ great ease... But they say that’s so...” He maintained the grip, “Some other time, I’ll be on ya,’ Gordia. Want that?” But before Gordia could answer, the slave exploded into her again, quickly, and Vig drew back, chuckling, “Ya dress now. Time to go.” Gordia was so overwhelmed she did not have time to repeat the ritual words. She and Bragg dressed quickly and followed the guards.

-2-

The four joined the crowd entering through the Port Gate under the watchful eyes of heavily armed guards. They were quickly searched to see if they carried swords, which were now forbidden in the City and its environs.

Once through, they made their way through the streets to an ale shop Vig knew. They found a small table in the back of the shop. Vig andSam sat on stools while Bragg and Gordia shared a bench. Vig spoke low to Gordia, “This place was a favorite with th’ Prince Royal’s Guards. When we were in th’ Capitol sometimes I would come here with some a’em. P’haps we’ll hear some news... I’ll order us two ales, bread an’ sausage.” Nodding to their silent companion, Gordia replied, “What of Br... Mule?” “Gave ‘im a double ladle a’ gruel befor’ we left.” “Well, at least get him some water.” Vig nodded and went to the counter.

He returned with four mugs, three brimming with strong ale, one with cool water. He placed them on the table and gave Gordia and Sam sausage bread, keeping one for himself. The chaplain broke her in two, saying, “This is more than I need.” She handed it toward Bragg. The big slave looked to Vig who nodded to him. Bragg took, then slowly ate the bread. “Look, Vig, how he eats, savoring very bite. There is something about this one; how he moves; how he remains calm and still... like the Silent Sisters in the nunnery. And how he fights! You saw the bloody results; I watched him act; he moved ferociously, yet maintained that same calm.” “Suppose so. Galley slaves’ trained to move only when told; minds’ mostly blank from th’ work an’ discipline.” “Well, he couldn’t have learned to fight at the oars...” They all continued eating in silence. As she finished, the chaplain leaned back and against Bragg, wrapping an arm about his hard waist, feeling his firmness through the peasant’s tatters.

As he finished, Vig turned to Gordia and whispered, “Luck is wi’ us. Yon man in th’ long blue cape, I think I know...” He took his mug as though to get a refill. They watched him stand by the man, make eye contact, nod slightly. He returned with the full mug, finished it quickly. “Let’s go.” They rose and left the shop. Bragg noticed the caped man watch and begin to stand.

Once outside Vig led them around the building to an empty side alley. The other man joined them. Vig, Sam and the man put heads together and spoke very softly. Then they both turned to Gordia and Bragg. “This is Gordia, ship’s chaplain. Meet the Prince Royal’s Head o’ Guards, Duke Roland.” “Honored, Priestess.” Nodding to Bragg he added, “An’ Mule’s the oarsman who rowed us ashore.”

Roland was direct, “My Lord, Dom Julian, is nearby. We must get him to the ship. I will meet you at the Gate in a quarter hour.” Then he was gone. Vig went to the wall to relieve himself. He nodded back to Bragg, “Ya too, Mule.” The big slave stepped beside him and quickly sent a steaming stream of bright yellow urine splashing onto the puddle Vig was making. When finished, the guard smacked him hard across the buttocks, but then reached around his waist, and turned them both back toward Gordia and Sam, smiling.

They made their way back near the Gate to await Roland. In a few minutes the Duke arrived, with another man in a hooded gray cloak. From his regal bearing Bragg surmised that his Mistress’s older brother had arrived. They joined the two and followed them to the Gate. There they were stopped by a guard with drawn sword.

The first guard waived his sword and was immediately joined by two other swordsmen, and two guards bearing ten foot double axes, tipped with spear points. The Prince’s group was surrounded.

The guards faced the two cloaked figures. “Now who ‘ave we ‘ere, leavin’ th’ City?” The new Lords said no gentlemen can leave wit’out passes.” He peered at the Prince. “’Tis the Prince Royal!” Sir, ya may not leave!” All eyes in the crowded little square by the Gate turned to the confrontation. The spear points were lowered toward them. “I will go where I will; this City may have new masters, but they do not have the Empire. I will leave as I choose!”

No one seemed to notice Bragg, standing quietly just behind the Prince, barefoot and in peasant’s rags. With move’s almost too rapid to follow, Bragg lashed out between Roland and the Prince. With one quick jab he snapped the neck of the first guard, grabbing his sword with the other hand, tossing it back toward Vig. He then dove toward the spear-bearers, catching one with a powerful kick, twisting and bringing the other down with a chop to the spine.

To Gordia’s sight, the others all seemed to be moving in slow motion by comparison. Roland drew his sword, and with Vig turned to the remaining two swordsmen. They began to back off. Gordia knew what to expect as Bragg had started to move, and shouted, “To the Gate before it’s closed!” Bragg reacted first, grabbing Gordia and tossing her over his shoulder, pushing the Prince from behind, propelling him to the Gate, which even then began to descend. The three ran through, followed by Roland and Sam. Vig just had time to roll under the Gate as it slammed down. Gordia again, “Run before they send horsemen!”

Within moments the six had run under the bridge where Bragg had serviced Gordia. Catching their breath, Vig spoke first, “Gotta get t’th’ boat. ‘Bout half mile.” Bragg interjected, “If an’ we follow th’ stream to th’ bay, we can hide from rock t’ rock, t’ th’ boat...” Vig cut him off with a sharp smack across the face, “Quiet, slave!” The Royal Prince, Dom Julian, barked, “You should be silent! Your warrior-slave saved us all. Let’s hear what he has to say!”

Bragg bowed to the Prince, “M’Laird, ‘ts doubtful that any o’ ya ever had t’ flee horse troops. I have. Your cloaks must be left here. We must run low, keep t’ th’ rocks. Th’ bay is shallow. Near th’ boat, you must all run int’t. I’ll push th’ boat t’ meet you. That way you’ll be out o’ arrow range.” The Prince responded, “We follow you.” He dropped his cloak, as did Roland. Both wore short tunics; the Duke with sword and belt. Bragg tore off his tatters and, naked, ran off at a crouch. The rest followed from rock to rock as hoof beats were heard on the bridge.

They quickly reached the bay and followed it toward the boat’s hiding place. At Bragg’s hand signal the four dashed into the surf, hearing shouts from the horsemen. While the troops were distracted, Bragg had the boat to the water and it in. He pulled it through the shallow water, ducking an arrow. Two more stuck into the stern.

They met a hundred yards out, where the water was chest deep. Bragg took oars and started rowing at once, as the horsemen plunged into the waves. But it was too late for their pursuers, as the boat was in deep water, rapidly moving to open sea.

Gordia was amazed at Bragg’s quick action and sure command. She thought, “Must learn more about this one. He’s a hearty oarsman, but mostly wasted at the oars. Must convince the Princess to let me study his fighting skills, teach them to the guards. Dom Julian seems to appreciate Bragg’s potential too.”

The dingy was quickly out of sight of land, and with Vig’s compass, converging on the spot where the Lightening was to meet them. In an hour of Bragg’s hard rowing it was in sight. As they boarded, Donna Alexandra grasped her brother, and turning to Vig, “Well done. Well done. I ask for information about the Prince Royal and you bring him to me! A fortunate rescue indeed!” Her brother spoke, “We must consult in private. But first, praise is due most especially to the big warrior-slave. He moved like lightening, saved us all!” “Good, good. Gordia, come with us. Vig, Sam, your prior six month penalty at farm labor is remitted; feed and return the slave to his place.” Even as the Princess spoke, the ship was lurching forward, gaining speed to the incessant beat of the drums, the “Huh!” of the straining galley slaves.

The Princess, Prince Royal, Duke and Gordia turned and left. Vig approached the galley slave, “Brace! We’ll get those cuffs on an’ return ya t’ th’ oars!” Bragg submitted quietly as Vig latched the slave belt and cuffs onto him. He complied as his trainer roughly hustled him back to the oar deck, striking the strong slave’s buttocks a couple times with his big hand.

-3-

With Gordia acting as scribe, the two Royals and Duke Roland planned the action they could take to regain control of the Capitol. The King-Emperor still lived, but was deathly ill. “They’ll not harm him, nor even enter his private chambers. They’ll dare nothing with him!” The talk continued.

First they would speed up the Coast to retrieve the Prince Royal’s family. Then to Donna Alexandra’s island fortress, “I saw to it that even Imperial Security believes that I have just a pleasure villa there. The Fortress there, though, can well protect the Family, and I can change crews for fresh rowers. From there, Brother, to the Pillars of Hercules, to muster a Navy among the ships there.” “How long will it all take?” “A day up the Coast; two to the Fort; lay over three days and then three to the Pillars.” “Yes, nine days and we’d have a fleet! But will this ship move that fast? We will need great speed; the sail ships our Father authorized for that Captain from Genoa...” “Yes, Dionysis Columbo, he is to return to those islands he found across the Ocean Sea...” “His fleet leaves in half a month. Will this ship get us there in time?” “It certainly will.” “Your galley slaves will not like that!” “On the contrary, Brother, the oarsmen are happiest when being driven hardest. Tonite I will let them feast us, even as we speed on, then you will see how well trained they are! And this ship is not yet the fastest that can be built. I have a smaller ship abuilding, nearly done, which will be faster yet!”

They spoke on, and as they were completing, Gordia asked to speak, “Nobles, one more matter if you will...” The Princess shrugged. “The big galley slave—the warrior—he has a great skill at unarmed battle... Perhaps I could study that; learn where he learned it; perhaps your guards, even your oarsmen, could be taught...” The Prince Royal nodded. Donna Alexandra pondered a long moment and nodding to her brother, she responded, “Good, Gordia. Let it be so. But, do not permit any galley slave long absences from the bench. No matter what skills a particular galley slave may have, none must ever hope to be delivered from hard labor at the oars.”

Later Gordia was waiting for Bragg as he and his oar mate were released, exhausted, from the benches. She helped bind them at the caged deck, then clean and feed the watch. Later she came back to the big slave and unbound him. Bragg immediately came to brace and stood tall and still before the chaplain. Gordia reached behind the slave and placed her hand between the big man’s hard gluts, to move him as she had seen the guards and Princess handwalk the slaves.

The galley slave relaxed to the chaplain’s smooth hand and walked where he was pushed. Around the deck to the far end, they stopped at the small alcove that the Princess had fitted for her pleasures. Gordia motioned the slave to the padded bench and then sat next to him. Bragg sat still, arms bound behind him, staring straight ahead.

First the chaplain took a small piece of hardcake from her pouch and speaking, “Open your mouth, slave.” placed it in the slave’s mouth. Bragg chewed slowly. Gordia half turned toward him, reached her arms around the man’s massive chest. She nuzzled against the slave’s neck, began to nibble and taste the warm flesh there. “Our Mistress told me I could use you as I saw fit...” She continued nuzzling him. While enjoying the slave’s taste and feel, Gordia let one of her arms drop between the big man’s legs. There she found the slave’s heavy testicles and growing erection. She grasped the now rigid organ and began to massage it. Through all this Bragg sat still and allowed the young priestess complete mastery over his body.

Then the chaplain began to speak softly to him, while continuing to fondle and taste, “I want to explore every inch of you; enjoy every pleasure... as our Mistress does. You are an incarnation of Great Pan, with your sex ever ready. But I am also charged by the Princess to question you, and learn about your fighting skills. Perhaps we will be able to teach others. You are permitted to speak to me about it.” “Aye Mam. While in th’ wars, a martial Master from far Cathay visited, t’ learn o’ our struggle ‘gainst th’ Empire. He remained a year an’ taught some o’ us unarmed combat. ‘Til th’ rescue o’ th’ Princess, these skills had not been tested recent... There is a clear mind needed for all th’ forms t’ work in harmony...” He stopped, confused, “The discipline o’ th’ galley slaves makes such mind...” He stopped again and stared ahead. “I know you are tired from your labors now. Later, I want to know all about this. What you have said will permit further study. Your Mistress plans a feast aboard tonite, so Vig will probably display you. Now lay back and relax. After I finish with you, I will bring you to your hammock for well-earned sleep.”

The galley slave complied and Gordia knelt on the deck, leaned over the slave’s up-thrusting erection, sucking it fully into her mouth. The slave climaxed quickly and Gordia swallowed a mouthful of warm manseed. She sighed, wanting to feel his hardness deep in her, but knew that he would need as much rest as possible. She handwalked the slave back to his oar mate and then took the two of them to their hammock, while the oar boys finished cleaning and feeding the other oarsmen.

-4-

It was dark when Vig shook Bragg from a deep sleep. He hauled him from the hammock, locked his wrists back and re-strapped his oar mate in. “We’re gona exhibit ya t’th’ Princess an’ her Royal Brother... so wake up!” He handwalked the slave up to the caged deck, smacking him repeatedly across the buttocks as they went. “Gonna pink ya’ butt for th’ Royals t’ see!”

They arrived at the deck that had been fitted for the Feast; shortly Bragg was bound in place, Vig standing at brace before him. They awaited the arrival of the Prince and Princess in silence, the only men on the deck. The only sound was the “Huh!” of the oarsmen as the sped the ship through the night.

Gordia came in first, inspected the table, and came over to Vig and Bragg. Standing half between the two, she reached between their legs to heft and fondle their testicles. “You’re both so well endowed that I can understand why your Mistress so enjoys you so. You are the only exhibit for tonite’s shortened festivities. It is the Princess’s idea of a reward for your heroics. While the Royal Heir appreciates your Mistress’s ship and well-trained slaves, your exhibit may surprise him. Vig, while you are not bound and humbled, as is Bragg, yet you are still a slave bound to our Princess. I am sure your Mistress expects a good show.” With that, she released their testicles and grasped the shafts, stroking them to hardness, “So you’ll be saluting as she enters...”

The two Royals and Duke Roland came in and sat as food was brought forth. They chatted quietly as they ate. Donna Alexandra looked up to Bragg, then back to her brother, “Some of the galley slaves have been trained by my guards for exhibitions of prowess and stamina. These two will entertain us with a discipline and obedience drill.” She nodded to Vig.

The brawny guard released his muscular trainee and snapped, “Brace!” He shoved his fist between the slave’s gluts and grabbed his testicles, inserting his thick thumb into the anus. The big slave remained stiffly at brace. The next command was “Walk!” He handwalked the slave around, before the Princess and her Brother, and to the center of the deck, just before them. He repeatedly smacked the slave’s buttocks as they walked, leaving pink hand marks on the slave’s gluts. They returned to the center and Bragg’s wrists were released, though he continued to hold them behind his back. Vig began to bark orders at the slave, moving him quickly from brace to squat and other positions, over and over again, until the slave glistened with sweat.

Then, “Post!” and the slave bent all the way forward, grasping his ankles with his fists, exposing himself to Vig. He ordered, “Arch!” and the slave arched his taut body up and back, clasping his arms high above his head, while the guard griped him from behind. Vig stepped around the slave’s legs and clasped his hands. The two were poised like bow and string.

He was stopped by the Princess, “Enough! Vig, no release yet! Both of you, brace!” Both galley slave and slave-guard snapped to brace and faced their Mistress, who walked over to them.

She stood before them, watching their ragged breathing calm. “Your exhibit was most pleasing. But my main reason for having you here was to thank you both for the heroic rescue of my brother. I know that as my loyal slaves, you would always act as you have. Nonetheless, my thanks are in order. We must reward you both suitably. To you, Vig, I give this.” She held forth a gold chain that she clasped around the guard’s neck, hugging and kissing him. Then she turned to Bragg, “And for you, my fine warrior-slave, oarsman, this.” She held a short gold chain and reached forward, clasping it tightly around the big slave’s tesicles and cockroot. She then hugged and kissed the slave, deep into his waiting mouth, holding him for a long moment.

“Now here my plans for you. When we change crews in a few days, the First Oars will remain on land. The oarsmen and guards will start training in unarmed combat at once. Gordia will coordinate the training. I understand Duke Roland will stay with us to learn these skills too. Now, Vig, take the slave back to his rest. There is much hard rowing to do. Then, you go down the spiral stairs and wait there.” “Aye!” The slave and guard quickly left. Turning to Gordia, the Princess said, “And your reward, good Gordia, is to meet Vig below and use him as you will.” The former nun smiled, “Thank you, Highness!”

It was a short while later that Gordia found Vig at the entrance to the pleasure room, standing at brace, waiting. “Our Princess has given you to me for the night, as a reward.” “Then, I am yours t’ command, though ya know, ya can have me or any o’ th’ other slaves anytime...” Gordia wrapped an arm around the muscular guard and went into the chamber with him, “Yes, I know.” Once in the room, she began to strip off the guard’s leather gear, enjoying the mixed aromas of the gear and the guard’s recent exertions. Once done, she stepped back, to gaze at the big man’s hard nakedness. Stepping close again, she reached to stroke the guard’s finely muscled pectorals, then reached around him to clasp and hug. “I want you to teach me how you’ve trained Bragg...” “Mule, ya mean...” “No matter the name, I want to learn. “Chaplain, ya gotta learn to be strict with th’ galley slaves. Gotta smack ‘em ‘round. That makes ‘em real eager t’ obey. Ev’rybody aboard has t’ be strict with th’ oarsmen.”

With that, Vig swept Gordia over to the divan, pushed her on it, “But first, Gordia, ya gonna take me all th’ way in, an’ then we’ll fool with positions...” The massive guard leaned over her, roughly separating her legs and reaching with his head to nuzzle her privacy, to moisten her (though she was already moist, and moaning in anticipation. Quickly, he mounted her, thrusting his manhood deep within her...

Bragg and the other galley slaves put all their efforts into speeding the Lightening onward. Scar and his drivers pushed them unmercifully. The Princess even came down to the oars to demand maximum effort. Later, the chaplain was there, with water and encouragement. Once, when Vig was there, Bragg saw him showing the chaplain how to use the belt.

His oar mate, Fortus, was growing nearly as strong as he, as they both received extra feed rations. The two were learning to communicate without words, by a smile or a glance. The galley slaves were kept to a three watch schedule, eight hours rowing, eight off the benches and then eight rowing again. Except for a few hours at the caged deck, the off time was spent strapped into hammocks. Since the rowing was so hard, the oarsmen mostly slept whenever they could.

After a day rowing up the coast, they stopped for a few hours of rest while some passengers came aboard; then straight out to sea for two days. The oarsmen rowed eagerly since Scar told them the crews would be changed when they reached home port.

Once, the Princess had Bragg hastily brought to the pleasure chamber. Vig bound him to the deck and ceiling and left. The Princess quickly entered and went directly to him, grasping the slave’s penis, stroking it hard, “I have little time, slave, but I wanted a taste... Release fast.” She sucked. Bragg complied, rapidly releasing a copious load of manseed for his Mistress. The Princess stood and hugged her big galley slave, stretched before him.

“Sometimes, slave, I need someone to confide in, someone to talk to. Do you remember Major Orlo?” The slave nodded. “Since his death, I have had no real confidant. Oh, Vig and Scar listen and that big redhead, Sam is so good natured, he just smiles whenver I speak... and perhaps if Gordia had more experience... Now that you will be training others in unarmed combat, I must relax the Rule of Silence for you. When you train, you may speak as necessary. And when we are alone here, together, you may speak too. Even if I do not want to hear what you have to say. Even if I punish you for it later. Do you understand?” “Aye Mistress!”

Then the Princess, still standing tightly against her galley slave, explained her plans to raise a fleet and challenge the nobles who sought to depose her Family. “What have you to say to that?” Bragg thought, swallowed and spoke, “Mistress, ‘tis a daring plan o’ Princes, an’ it should continue. But, they will have time to prepare, an’ ye will have a civil war. P’haps while they watch those preparations, ye can fool them, an’ attack much sooner, at the Capitol itself. Train a hu’dred men t’ enter th’ City unarmed, seize th’ Capitol, kill th’ plotters, rescue th’ King...” “Where would I find such men?” “Here, M’Lady. Th’ galley slaves’ minds are ready fo’ th’ trainin’. In a month they could fight for you, and each is ready, even now, to die for you.” “I see. When we leave this crew at home port, you and Gordia will stay and see what you can do.” “An another thing, Mistress.” “Yes?” “If ye have other galleys, they should speed t’ your far-flung Generals, t’ warn them not to side with the plotters...” “Yes, we have two small training galleys; use them to harden the crew after their ‘soft life’ ashore. The crew that will replace this was taken off farm duty a few weeks ago and was put to the small galleys to prepare them for our arrival. I also have another ship being built, smaller than this, and faster. It may be ready now.” " That new ship may ‘haps be th’ weapon t’ win back ya Empire... Mistress, have ye enough men?” “Oh, yes. Two hundred are aboard the Lightening, but there are about 500 on the Island. Only the best row here. But enough for now.”

The Princess reached to release Bragg’s wrists, to lock them behind his back. But Bragg, when released, pinned the Princess’s arms back, lifted her off the ground, and hugging, kissed her deeply, now her mouth willingly opening to his firm tongue. They lingered together for a long moment, then Bragg released her, and braced his arms behind himself. The Princess leaned against him, locked his wrists in place. “I love you so much, slave! Now, silence. Vig will take you back.” The Princess turned and left.

A few minutes later, Vig appeared, unlocked the galley slave’s ankles, and roughly handwalked him to the hammock where Fortus was waiting. As he strapped him in place he spoke for the first time, “Now, slave, ya don’t get upity ‘cause Mistress gave ya special duties. I’ll see that ya remember your place...” With that he reached a couple fingers through the hammock netting and probed the slave’s hard buttocks, finding the tight anus. There he inserted first one, then two fingers, pushing and massaging until the slave offered no further resistance, speaking to him about obeying their Mistress, offering himself completely to her and her commands.

-5-

Bragg was rowing when they arrived at the Isle and home port. Since the rowers were allowed to slow to enter the harbor, he could peer out the oar hole and see the surroundings; see the Domain his Mistress had established.

There was a high headland to the right, topped by ancient battlements and a lofty tower. Behind it, descending in terraces, were well-tended orchards and pastures. He saw scaffolding about the back of the tall headland and what appeared, from this distance, to be a great tableaux carved in relief upon the very rock, showing a great Goddess with sword raised. Her face surely resembled the Princess. There were columns and a gilded roof below, a Temple nearly complete, a place, he thought, to worship is Mistress as the Goddess she was to him.

As the ship was turned he could see a dock and warehouses. Two small galleys were tied opposite the Lightening’s place. Across the small harbor he could see low cliffs and fields beyond. At the far end of the island was a craggy mountain, with more battlements at one end. At its base, in the shadows, were more low buildings. The cliffs seemed to surround the whole island, except for the protected harbor beneath the fortress. There was a wall atop the cliffs, surrounding everything with the Domain of Princess Alexandra.

The ship came to the dock and stopped. Bragg noticed the sound of ropes thudding onto the deck above, as he, Fortus and all hundred galley slaves leaned forward against their oars, relaxed, knowing that they were at home port. When not rowing the best thing a galley slave could do was to sleep, recharging the stamina needed to work the oars yet again. So Bragg and Fortus collapsed together onto their oar and quickly fell asleep.

Then he was woken to the snap of some driver’s belt and the shouts to “Stand to Repost!” The command always given when they were to be taken off the oars. The men had repeated this procedure so often that they acted without thought. Standing, they waited for the oar boys to release their wrists from the oars. Snapping their arms back and to the latch behind their belts, the small steel hooks on their wrist cuffs found the slots in the latch and locked to place. Now, only someone behind them, using two hands in a specific way could unlatch them.

They were now further secured by the second wave of oar boys who unhooked their ankle cuffs from the floor bolts and released the chain that went from their waist belts to the third floor bolt. That chain was quickly wrapped around the slave’s waist and wrists, and hooked to itself. When necessary, a key lock could be used to finally secure the chain. The pairs of oarsmen remained linked by the short chain that connected their two belts. When they all lined up to leave the oar deck, each pair had to stand close together because of the shortness of the chain. The only times that chain would be removed was when they were in place on the caged deck, or when they were, rarely, separated, for some reason.

The slaves were quick-marched off the ship and onto firm ground for the first time in a half-year. They watched the fresh crew jog aboard, looking well-fed and tan from working in the fields. Then Gordia was there, with Vig and Sam, choosing certain oarsmen. Bragg and Fortus were pulled aside, as were the two demoted guards and the two promoted First Oars who had fought beside them to rescue the Princess from the Nunnery. Standing behind Vig were two of the older oar boys, newly fitted out with oarsman’s gear, standing proud and awkward, with wrists pinned back. But strangest of all were Vig and Sam, their guards’ kilt and sword gone, braced in oarsman’s belt, wrist and ankle cuffs. Bragg, smiling, supposed the Princess wanted them trained like the rest, and had provided the former oar boys to pair with them. Soon Gordia had three dozen oarsmen standing aside. Then all the others were gone and they were standing there alone.

Gordia, looking at a parchment, spoke, “You have been chosen for special service to your Mistress. She orders you to the Upper Pump Station where you will work and be trained in certain special fighting skills. I will explain further when we arrive.”

A light-weight bearer chair was waiting for Gordia. As soon as she had Bragg and Fortus attached to it, the whole group of galley slaves were sent at a trot down the cobblestone road that bisected the island, toward the escarpment which dropped from behind the headland and Fortress.

The bearers were to keep up, near the head of the line, where Vig was stationed. Bragg could more clearly see the lay of the land from this somewhat elevated roadway. He noticed as many details as he could. Such attention to the “here and now” was part of the warrior training he knew he needed to remember. The whole center of the isle was a wide plain, sloping gently upward to the two promontories on either end; the northern quarter was raised by an escarpment, along the bottom of which the road led.

Fifty feet or more above, the upper pastures and orchards could be seen, reaching up to the Temple and Fortress perched far above. Then on the far south corner of the island, crags and battlements, half hidden by mists. Gordia noticed where Bragg was looking, even as she jogged them straight along the road. “I saw maps. There’s an open pit mine out there, by the south end. And up in the crags is a deep spring fed lake, from which most island water is pumped. There’s a pump station to get it over the crags, to distribute part of that to the fields, and to send part of it to the pump station where you are to be posted. While we go, Bragg, consider what you will be saying to the men, when we arrive.” They ran on in silence.

They arrived at a crossroads, marked by four tall stone pillars, carved in the similitude of erect male members. The road they were on ran straight ahead to the far side of the island. The cross road, to the left, went down and across the fields toward the distant crags. To the right, it climbed back and forth, up the escarpment. They turned and went up. At the top of the climb the road continued through pastures and orchards toward the Fortress. But right at the top was the Pump Station. Hemmed on one side by a small wood of evergreens, the stone structure had a paved courtyard to the edge of the escarpment. There Gordia had the men stand in line, releasing Bragg and Fortus to join them.

Bragg could even more clearly see the island from this vantage. The Lightening and the other galleys were already putting out to sea. He glanced to the Fortress, with its high, white tower, wondering if his Mistress was there.

Gordia spoke in a loud, clear voice, “Be proud, slaves of Princess Alexandra! You have been chosen as the best of the best, for special service. I know that you galley slaves are not often told what is happening in the world around you. Your only duty is at the benches; it does not matter where you row, so long as you row with unceasing vigor.

“This much you may know: the Princes and notables are struggling for control of the Empire. Your Mistress’s Imperial Father is a prisoner in his own palace. The Princess and her Royal Brother were both nearly captured, but are now free to battle the plotters. They were both rescued through the quick, decisive actions of a remarkable galley slave from the Lightening. Of this you should all be exceedingly proud.

“That slave learned unarmed combat years ago, from a Master visiting from far Cathay. That slave is here, and he will teach you his skills, so that you may protect the Princess, and perhaps rescue her Father. Now, trainer, come forth. For him alone, the Rule of Silence is relaxed.” Gordia nodded to Bragg who stepped forward and turned to the men.

“We galley slaves ar’ not permitted t’ have names. We ar’ but strong backs, arms an’ legs t’ be worked hard t’ our Mistress’ orders. Without names, though, we can earn titles. Ye are oarsmen, an’ proud t’ be so! Now ye have th’ chance t’ earn th’ new title, Combater! This is a title we bestow upon ar’selves, by th’ hard training here, t’ offer t’ ar’ Mistress. We live f’ her an’ must now learn to’ die for her, if need be. An surely, t’ fight for her!

“T’ achieve this, ye must learn quick moves and clear mind. We will pract’s th’ Cathay moves ‘til they move ye without thought. Like th’ trainin’ for exhibit b’for Mistress. These ar’ th’ moves o’ th’ Shadow Warrior. Ye know clear mind when ye row. Th’ two together make Combaters!”

Gordia came over, pointed Bragg back to the line. “You are divided into three squads. You with the trainer are First Squad. You train now. Next row is Second Squad. You sleep now...” She looked at her parchment, “Enter the Pump Station, go left to the sleep chamber. The last row is Third Squad. You have worked the pumps before, so go directly to it. All move now!” Gordia remained somewhat amazed whenever the galley slaves would respond to her with complete obedience. Since she spoke for their Mistress, these three dozen strong, naked slaves standing before her, would obey her without hesitation. Gordia knew she would not be bored for the next weeks. She would also record the training on her parchment, so it could be widely implemented.

-6-

The days wore on in unvarying routine. Gordia came to understand how that was essential to the training. The Pump Station had three sets of double treadmills for the slaves to work. Each set had foot and hand holds, and all the slaves efforts, backs, arms and legs, had to be bent to driving the treadmills at the speed needed to pump water up the escarpment. There was enough room for nearly all the slaves of each squad to work the pumps. Gordia rotated the few that would not fit, giving them belts and having them drive their mates the harder. And from them she would choose a slave to dally with while she watched Bragg train the others. She would shift Bragg and Fortus from squad to squad so they would have time to sleep and work as well. Except for the daily cart of slave gruel, fresh fruit and the plain, hard “reward cakes” they had no contact with the rest of the island. She knew the slaves needed to focus entirely on their training. She did, though, permit the training pairs to reward each other after training sessions, and enjoyed watching the five pairs of trainees, laying on the cobblestone, wrapped around each other, pleasuring each other’s manhood with their eager mouths. Sometimes she would allow Vig, Sam or Bragg mount their young oar mates, teaching them the exhibit positions Vig had taught Bragg. It was not enough t train them as individual fighters; they needed to be trained together as combat teams.

Gordia carefully recorded all that was said and done. She began to add some of the Silent Sisters’ mental techniques to the training. These seemed to mesh exactly with Bragg’s training. The sleep chamber became her special realm. As each squad was permitted sleep, Gordia was there to talk to them as they dozed off. She knew that what she repeated to them over and over as they went into sleep would deeply penetrate their minds. So she would repeat Bragg’s lessons, adding detail. She would lay among the slaves, massaging, speaking softly, enjoying the pleasures they had to offer. She took special pleasure in Bragg’s body. She would often have the big slave enter her, and remain there impaling her, for hours at a time, as they dozed.

After a few weeks, the Princess arrived, alone. Bragg was at the pumps, but could see the Princess and Gordia enter the Station. Gordia barked a sharp, “Trainer, here!” Bragg jumped from the pump, ran to his Mistress and came to brace before her, the hooks of his wrist cuffs snapping with a click into his belt’s latch, behind the small of his broad back.

The Princess first just stood, looking at the massive slave braced before her, taut skin glistening with sweat and pump water. His muscles and veins still throbbed to the exertion. “Gordia tells me the training goes well.” She lazily reached out to fondle the slave’s testicles and thick, limp penis, nestled behind the soft leather strip that looped from the front to back of his belt. The response was immediate. His erection thrust from the strip. The Princess began to massage the cockhead, feeling its broad red glans swell and heat. She licked her fingertips and returned to the cockhead. Shortly, the foreskin easily slipped back, revealing the glans completely. She took it between her fingers, squeezing and rubbing.

The slave’s breathing deepened and tremors rippled through his hard thigh and stomach muscles as he submitted to his Mistress. The Princess felt the clear preliminary lubricant begin to flow from the massive cockhead, and she began to probe the slit with a finger; again and again licking it off. This further excited the slave, whose erection continued to harden and swell. Abruptly she released it. “Later. First my inspection continues; then I will see you demonstrate. Now, back to the pumps!”

The slave about-faced and waited while his Mistress released the latch. He ran back to the pump and resumed his place next to Fortus; the watching women saw the great pump wheel quicken its speed as the massive slave applied his muscle to it.

The Princess and chaplain left, going to the sleep chamber. Bragg could hear them talking from that room, “First show me these mind-control techniques. Then, we will have a demonstration out side.” They stayed in the chamber some time, then returned to the pumps.

Again Gordia barked, “Trainer! Here!” Again Bragg ran from the pump to his Mistress, snapping to brace just before her, catching his breath in anticipation. The Princess turned to Gordia, “The slave looks hot. Cool him off, then bring him out for a demonstration...” She then continued the turn, leaving the pump room. The chaplain shrugged, told Bragg, “Squat!” and got a large bucket of water from the pump spillover. She slowly poured it over the big slave. Then she motioned for Bragg to follow her outside, where the Princess was watching the other squad going through their exercises.

Bragg took over the drill from Vig while Gordia and the Princess sat in the shade of the evergreens. He quickened the routine, demanding rapid movement. Then he paired the men for mock combat, to show his Mistress how well the training went; put them through their shadow moves, to show how quickly and silently they could act. Vig and Bragg strove against each other, aware that their Princess watched. Although Vig was as big as the galley slave, with musculature nearly as developed, Bragg moved the quicker, and soon the two blond giants were grappling each other on the ground, with Bragg on top, finally pinning Vig, holding him, unable to break the warrior slave’s grip. No matter how Vig squirmed and twisted, the massive slave held him, until his struggling ceased.

Then the Princess rose and went to her slaves, “Stand at brace now. You have shown me that this training will make warriors for me from galley slaves. But you will always remain my galley slaves. You will become a rapid strike force, rowing to where I need you, striking hard and fast, and disappearing as you arrived. A short sword and dagger will be brought here tomorrow for each of you to learn to use. It will be your privilege to wear blades, attached to your slave belts, to mark your special status as Combaters of the Princess Royal.

“Soon you will be sent on your first mission to a nearby island, where there are traitors and pirates to be destroyed. After that test, I will have other missions for you. Remember, to die in service to your Mistress is the best. You who die for me will be given a name and buried with honor!” She surveyed the men, noting with satisfaction that Gordia had chosen well. “Now continue with your exercises. Vig, later you will return with me to the Fortress. Now, Trainer, brace and follow me.” Bragg turned to follow his Mistress.

-7-

The Princess and Bragg walked together from the Pump Station. They silently went a short way along the main path toward the Fortress. In another clump of evergreens, there was a trail. Donna Alexandra’s hand had been lazily resting on her big slave’s muscular buttocks as they had walked side by side. Now, though, the Mistress pushed her slave ahead on the narrower path. The Princess’s hand probed between the slave’s buttocks, grasping his testicles from behind. She loved to feel the heft and warmth of the slave’s massive testicles. She felt a thrill of power and control whenever she hand-walked one of her bound oarsmen. She wanted to enjoy this brief time she would have with her warrior slave.

There was an opening among the trees; a spring-fed pool surrounded by the evergreens. The Princess motioned Bragg into the water. It was chest deep and cool. Bragg stood in the water gazing back at his Mistress. Donna Alexandra stared back at him, dropped her tunic to the ground, standing naked but for her sandals. “Remove my sandals, slave.” Bragg came to her, stood in the water and looked up; his hands were, as usual, securely bound behind him. “Turn!” The Princess squatted, reached into the water and released the slave’s hands. Bragg turned back and undid the sandals. The Princess stepped from them and slid into the water, between the rocky edge and Bragg standing close by. Her arms were about Bragg, her breasts rubbing against him. And the slave returned her embrace. They stood a long while, tight together, gazing into each other’s eyes, feeling his erection hot against their bodies in the wet coolness.

“Slave, I want you deep in me.” Bragg responded with a grin, raising the Princess in his powerful arms, tilting her so that she could wrap her legs around the big slave’s waist; allowing Bragg to push his hardness deep into the Princess. His Mistress grimaced as the thick erection broke in, then relaxed to her slave’s grip and thrust. They were locked together in the swirling water; Bragg rocking himself deeply in, and nearly out; thrusting and grinding.

The Princess gasped, “’Tis the time to pleasure me, slave. Here you are free to please me every way you can...” Bragg needed no encouragement to continue offering himself to his Mistress. Using his powerful stomach and thigh muscles, he carefully controlled his erection, grinding deeply in, pulling nearly all the way out, then thrusting again and again, into his waiting Princess. Donna Alexandra reached climax after climax.

All the practice the slave had with the chaplain and his oar mate stood him in good stead: he knew how to pleasure this way, he knew what his Princess wanted. After some time, the Princess could see that her slave could barely hold back longer. “Withdraw!” Bragg obeyed immediately. “I want to taste the offering you have been preparing for me! Up on the rock.” The slave scrambled to a rock half out of the water, his massive erection throbbing as water dripped from it.

Donna Alexandra closed swiftly to the slave, quickly sucking the slave cock into her mouth. Bragg held back nothing; almost at once emptying himself into his Mistress’s throat with spasm after spasm of manseed. The Princess briefly released her grip on the still rigid erection, clambered up the slave, presenting her still hot pudendum. Bragg pulled them close on the rocky ledge, and they both began pleasuring each other until the Princess reached a throbbing climax by his mouth as well. The Princess reversed herself so that they both lay close together, ragged breathing calming to unison.

Shortly the Mistress spoke, “Besides the short sword and dagger I promised your mates, will you need any other gear? Remember, whatever you have, you must carry and row with.” Bragg thought, then spoke in the clear voice the Princess so seldom heard, “Mistress, a strip o’ chain mail ‘cross chest an’ back; a small shield fo’ dagger hand: these would suffice. With these we could work hard an’ move swift.” “Good enough; it shall be done. Now rest with me, then I will return you to your duties.” The two lay together, wrapped in each other, in the shaded coolness by the pool a long while. For the next few hours, Bragg repeatedly entered his Princess, bringing her to climax after climax.

The swords and daggers were delivered the next day. The men began practicing with them at once. Several days later a cart arrived with more gear. Gordia had a letter from the Princess. After reading it, she called the men together. They were all hard, strong men, and, to the chaplain, they looked so much prouder standing with their naked swords and daggers hanging from their belts. She called Bragg forward.

“Your Mistress sends you this armor. I will gear your Trainer first.” She pulled wide strips of fine chainmail from the pile and, finding one she thought would fit, draped it over the head and shoulders of the slave.

The attached helm was also chainmail, with a steel strip around the forehead and over the top of the skull. There were narrow slits for eyes and mouth, which, when all opened together, would allow the helm to be slipped down around the neck. The chainmail fit snugly about the neck, was nearly as wide as the slave’s massive shoulders, and hung to his waist, where it narrowed. It hooked at four points around the slave’s belt, leaving slots for sword, dagger and wrist cuff latch. The front and back hooked under the slave, protecting his heavy hanging testicles and latching to a ring of steel. Gordia fondled him through the supple mail, marveling, as always, how much pleasure this and the other slaves gave her. The Princess had indeed rewarded her the best.

The Princess had also provided small round steel shields to clamp to a wrist cuff, opposite the slave’s sword arm. Bragg stood proud, a strange creature, gleaming steel skull and torso, muscles bulging, sword and shield before him. Short, thin, sleeveless, hooded black doublets were also provided, to cover the armor, for striking in the dark. Soon the chaplain had all the slaves similarly geared.

The slaves were strong and the armor was light. They were soon used to bearing it at all times: working, training, cleaning and sleeping. All practiced and worked hard, honing their fighting skills: waiting for their Princess to return; for her to send them on their first mission.

-8-

A few hard, intense weeks later, the Princess returned, accompanied by Vig, who had been back to the training grounds, on and off, over the weeks. He was now also wearing the chainmail of a warrior slave. They inspected her now hardened warriors. As she stood, gazing at the steel line before her, she tried to imagine how it would appear when these silent warriors raged into some stronghold of her enemies.

She pointed to Vig, “This warrior is your Commander. Obey him as though he were me. Trainer, step forward. You are Second in Command. Commander will use you as the prime exemplar of correct warrior slave behavior. I expect you to be the best of the best. You each have an oar mate who has been trained with you. You will each fight as a pair, to protect each other. While you may need die in my service, it would please me more if your victories were capped with your safe return. I expect each of my warrior slaves to give his all in my service, just as you did when you were but galley slaves! But remember, when aboard ship, you will still only be galley slaves and will receive no special treatment. It is your duty to row; your honor to fight!”

The Princess then held aloft steel disks engraved with the image of a winged galley, “Here I have insignia to attach to your armor. Wear this with pride!” First Donna Alexandra attached the insignia to the chainmail worn by Vig and Bragg, over their hearts, then, she went down the line of warriors, Sam first, giving each his insignia.

“Now you are ready for your first mission. You are now my special Strike Force! I have prepared for you a new galley, one both smaller and lighter than the Lightening. A ship you can row even faster to your destiny! You are now ready to board the Draggon! After a few days training, you leave immediately to row to battle!”

Vig took command, barking orders to the warriors to form a line, oar pairs, two abreast. Bragg and Fortas took the first positions, with Sam and his youth behind. Vig’s youth had remained with the trainees, but now stood by his warrior, looking at the Commander the way Fortus often looked at Bragg: with an open admiration bordering on worship. The men left at once, jogging down the trail, to the road that led back to the port. Gordia and the Princess followed, at a quick walk. “My Lady, tell, if you will, of this new ship.”

“It is, chaplain, the sleek galley I have had a-building for nearly a year. With the crisis, I redesigned it for my Strike Force. It is now ready, as are they. The ship is made of the lightest, strongest woods. Low to the water, it has no sail and does not carry the weight of mast or ballast. The short oars are barely above the water line and have tight fitting gaskets to keep the interior dry. The deck is closed above, with rows of small rock crystal windows to let in light. It has a high stern and higher prow, carved like unto a dragon, opened for air to flow through the galley. But come, you will see it when we arrive. I have horses waiting below.”