The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

And this is how Cunning Kirrus earned his star.

In the time before Keldia and before the stars, the gods and men were as one people. We know this to be so.

Of the gods there was BANAHKAL, who was known to be among the most beautiful of the gods. Many a man and god alike were by her driven to lust, for her legs were strong as the oaks and supple as the willows, and her breast was broad as the fields and bountiful as the harvests, and her gaze was deep as the oceans and clear as the rivers.

Of men there was Kirrus, who was known to be among the most skilled of axemen, and who was stricken with lust for BANAHKAL. BANAHKAL would not put her gaze on him when walking on the road, for Kirrus was of men. He grew despondent and pining for the affections of BANAHKAL more than any other, of the gods or of men, and thus sought for a way to court BANAHKAL. We know this to be so.

On the road, Kirrus threw himself at the feet of MORROL. Kirrus was in the favor of MORROL, who was among the blood gods, and who put his gaze on Kirrus. “Fair MORROL,” said Kirrus. “I am stricken with lust for BANAHKAL, but she will not put her gaze on me, for I am of men.” MORROL knew this to be so.

“You are not alone. Many of men are stricken with lust for BANAHKAL, for she is among the most beautiful of the gods,” said MORROL.

“I know that many men are thusly stricken, but still I seek for a way to court BANAHKAL,” said Kirrus.

“But why have you come to me, when I am of the blood gods?” MORROL asked.

“Because my blood churns with a neverending ache for BANAHKAL, for her legs are strong as the oaks and supple as the willows, and you of the blood gods may aid in soothing this ache,” said Kirrus.

MORROL was impressed by Kirrus’ words, for he was clever of tongue and true of intent. “I can lend you my gift, to aid in your courtship of BANAHKAL,” said MORROL, and he gave Kirrus his gift. “Seek TARIN, of the flesh gods, for they are wise and might aid you in the ways that I cannot.”

Then Kirrus stood, and continued on the road. We know this to be so.

On the road, Kirrus threw himself at the feet of TARIN. Kirrus was in the favor of TARIN, who was among the flesh gods, and who put their gaze on Kirrus. “Good TARIN,” said Kirrus. “I am stricken with lust for BANAHKAL, but she will not put her gaze on me, for I am of men.” TARIN knew this to be so.

“You are not alone. Many of the gods are stricken with lust for BANAHKAL, for she is among the most pleasing to the eyes of us all,” said TARIN.

“I know that many gods are thusly stricken, but still I seek for a way to court BANAHKAL,” said Kirrus.

“But why have you come to me, when I am of the flesh gods?” TARIN asked.

“Because my flesh yearns with an interminable ache for BANAHKAL, for her breast is broad as the fields and bountiful as the harvests, and you of the flesh gods may aid in soothing this ache,” said Kirrus.

TARIN was impressed by Kirrus’ words, for he was beautiful in words and earnest in meaning. “I can lend you my gift, to aid in your courtship of BANAHKAL,” said TARIN, and they gave Kirrus their gift. “Seek RICIA, of the flame gods, for she is keen and might aid you in the ways that I cannot.”

Then Kirrus stood, and continued on the road. We know this to be so.

On the road, Kirrus threw himself at the feet of RICIA. Kirrus was in the favor of RICIA, who was among the flame gods, and who put her gaze on Kirrus. “Kind RICIA,” said Kirrus. “I am stricken with lust for BANAHKAL, but she will not put her gaze on me, for I am of men.” RICIA knew this to be so.

“You are not alone. Many of all kinds are stricken with lust for BANAHKAL, for she is among the most ravishing of all things,” said RICIA.

“I know that many everywhere are thusly stricken, but still I seek for a way to court BANAHKAL,” said Kirrus.

“But why have you come to me, when I am of the flame gods?” asked RICIA.

“Because my heart burns with an unremitting ache for BANAHKAL, for her gaze is deep as the oceans and clear as the rivers, and you of the flame gods may aid in soothing this ache,” said Kirrus.

RICIA was impressed by Kirrus’ words, for he was sharp through wit and devoted through desire. “I can lend you my gift, to aid in your courtship BANAHKAL,” said RICIA, and she gave Kirrus her gift.

RICIA spoke further to Kirrus, for she was well known in those times for her benevolence. “You must fell thirteen thirties of the strongest trees, and set a hearth and home for BANAHKAL on the road, for though she is among the most beautiful of the gods, she has no hearth nor home to call her own nor hospitality to welcome her.”

“But why should she enter my home and put her gaze on me, when I am of men?” said Kirrus, and this was very foolish.

RICIA was kind to men, and answered even still. “You are with the gifts of three powerful gods, and though any one of us would to bed with BANAHKAL, we have given our blessings to you in your seeking, when you are of men. Why is this?” asked RICIA.

“I cannot know the wills of the gods,” said Kirrus humbly.

“Those of men cannot know the wills of the gods, this is true,” said RICIA, “but many of men yet imagine themselves as though they were of the gods, and in so doing, they may pretend to those wills which they cannot, in truth, ascertain.”

Kirrus thought on this, and then spoke again, “Because of the gods and men, only men may have the humility to bow and the deviousness to strike in the same moment,” said Kirrus, and this was very wise.

RICIA was pleased with Kirrus, and smiled on him. “The cunning of men is not known by gods, for we may bow and we may strike but we may never perform both in the same moment,” said RICIA.

Then Kirrus stood, and continued on the road. We know this to be so.

On the road, Kirrus came to an open place, and he knew BANAHKAL would soon walk by. Kirrus hefted his axe and steeled his muscles, and felled thirteen of the strongest trees in one swing. “I am exhausted,” lamented Kirrus, “for I am of men, and not given the stamina of the gods.”

But Kirrus was driven by his desire and his need to soothe his aches. With only three swings more, he felled the whole forest numbering thirteen thirties, and on the final swing, the blade of his axe shattered in three. Kirrus fell to his knees and wept, for his axe was his livelihood and friend.

After some time of grief, Kirrus spoke, “I will no longer need my axe, for I will court BANAHKAL and build her a hearth and home.”

Then Kirrus stood, and collected his timber. We know this to be so.

On the first day, said Kirrus, “I will build the walls, to shield her from the wind’s chillness,” and he did.

On the second day, said Kirrus, “I will build the roof, to shield her from the snow’s frigidness,” and he did.

On the third day, said Kirrus, “I will build the floor, to shield her from the earth’s gelidness,” and he did.

On the fourth day, Kirrus arose and saw that BANAHKAL was coming on the road from afar. Said Kirrus, “I will set the hearth to smoke, to beckon her to rest at my fire,” and he did. He remembered the words of RICIA, and set MORROL’s gift amid the flames. Kirrus saw that there were magicks in the gift, and the sweet smell of the smoke began to soothe the ache in his blood.

BANAHKAL, who was on the road, smelled the smoke and enjoyed its sweetness. The smell of the flames made an ache in her blood, and she came to his door. Kirrus was amazed, and though she did not put her gaze on him, BANAHKAL spoke, “The road is long and I am weary, may I rest at your fire?” Kirrus beckoned her, and she rested at his fire. And just as Kirrus could not have known the wills of the gods, BANAHKAL could little have predicted his motivation, for the wills of men are ever-shifting, and the ache in her blood distracted her from understanding. We know this to be so.

On the fifth day, Kirrus arose and saw that BANAHKAL was readying to leave from her rest. Said Kirrus, “I will set the hearth to warm, to beckon her to kneel at my fire,” and he did. He remembered the words of RICIA, and set TARIN’s gift amid the flames. Kirrus saw that there were magicks in the gift, and the warm air of the fire began to soothe the ache in his flesh.

BANAHKAL, who was resting at the fire, felt the blaze and enjoyed its warmth. The feel of the flames made an ache in her flesh, and she came to his side. Kirrus was amazed, and though she did not put her gaze on him, BANAHKAL spoke, “The road is long and I am weary, may I kneel at your fire?” Kirrus beckoned her, and she knelt at his fire. And just as Kirrus could not have known the wills of the gods, BANAHKAL could little have preordained his intent, for the minds of men are ever-changing, and the ache in her flesh distracted her from thinking. We know this to be so.

On the sixth day, Kirrus arose and saw that BANAHKAL was moving to stand from her knees. Said Kirrus, “I will set the hearth to brighten, to beckon her to stare at my fire,” and he did. He remembered the words of RICIA, and set the goddess’ gift amid the flames. Kirrus saw that there were magicks in the gift, and the dazzling light of the fire began to soothe the ache in his heart.

BANAHKAL, who was kneeling at the fire, saw the light and enjoyed its color. The look of the flames made an ache in her heart, and she turned her gaze from the brilliant glows. Kirrus was amazed, for she had put her gaze on him, and BANAHKAL spoke, “The road is long and I am weary. I tire of my journey, for though I am among the most beautiful of the gods, I have no hearth nor home to call my own nor hospitality to welcome me.” And just as Kirrus could not have known the wills of the gods, BANAHKAL could little have assumed his impetus, for the desires of men are ever-deviating, and the ache in her flesh distracted her from knowing.

Kirrus spoke, “I have set this hearth and home for you, and all my hospitality to welcome you.” BANAHKAL was impressed by Kirrus’ words, for flame and ache had made her most amenable to his look and voice. Kirrus continued to speak, “You are among the most beautiful of the gods, blessed BANAHKAL, my blood and flesh and heart are stricken with endless aches for thee.”

Because of Kirrus’ cunning and the gods’ gifts and the aches in the body of BANAHKAL, Kirrus was then in the favor of the beauteous goddess. “You are among the most beautiful of men, favored Kirrus, my blood and flesh and heart are stricken with endless aches for thee,” said BANAHKAL, and she smiled on him. We know this to be so.

BANAHKAL smelled the smoke and enjoyed its sweetness, and the ache in her blood grew stronger. Kirrus knew this to be so, and spoke to her, “Bare your legs to me, strong as the oaks and supple as the willows, so that I may soothe the ache in your blood.” BANAHKAL did as was asked, and Kirrus felt their strength and suppleness with his hands.

BANAHKAL felt the blaze and enjoyed its warmth, and the ache in her flesh became mightier. Kirrus knew this to be so, and spoke to her, “Bare your breast to me, broad as the fields and bountiful as the harvests, so that I may soothe the ache in your flesh.” BANAHKAL did as was asked, and Kirrus felt their broadness and bountifulness with his hands.

BANAHKAL saw the light and enjoyed its color, and the ache in her heart burned brighter. Kirrus knew this to be so, and spoke to her, “Bare your gaze to me, deep as the oceans and clear as the rivers, so that I may soothe the ache in your heart.” BANAHKAL did as was asked, and Kirrus felt their deepness and clearness with his eyes, and the both were so stricken with lust and ache that they embraced each other at once. Kirrus held her gaze, her breast, her legs, and BANAHKAL took him in to her.

They made love before the fire three times in that night, then lay asleep in their embrace. For thirty days, they made love thirteen times each, and both brought the other to their peaks of bliss for thirty thirteens times over. Only after the thirtieth day did they release each other, for the hearth had gone dark. Kirrus relit the flame, and though the gods’ magickal gifts had long since burned away, BANAHKAL remained with him, and he was from then on the foremost in her favor. The aches of both were cured, and they lived and loved together before the hearth for all their days. Their hearth and home were then known throughout the lands as a place of shelter and warmth, and their door was ever open to any on the road. We know this to be so.

And when that time ended, and the time of Keldia and the stars began, the gods and men were as one people no longer. BANAHKAL and the gods left the world of men, and Kirrus and the men foremost in their favor took their places in the stars above. We know this to be so.

And this was how Cunning Kirrus earned his star.

Curator’s Note 28: It is again my duty as curator of this collection to elucidate certain facets of Keld culture to those readers less seasoned in their experience with this beautiful northern nation. I can hardly chastise further given the present circumstances of their unfortunate resistance. Today, Kirrus is a fairly common name among Keld males (though this tale is much smaller in bardic apocrypha than others in this Milleniad collection), and the name Banahkal is entirely absent among females, given only in diminutive or appendational forms (e.g. the names Banah, Bann, Banh, and the appendations ban—, banah—, -kal, -ahkal, -nahkal, and so on).

The star-tales centering on Morrol, Tarin, and Ricia can rightly be found on pages 823, 258, and 649 respectively. Those readers astute in studies of the arcane may note the tenuous connection from the mystic gifts given to Kirrus to a spell commonly known in Damea as the Hearthwarming. While I am far from a student of magicks, I must admit my great enjoyment for the beauty and comfort such a spell has provided me.Several of my contemporaries yet dispute this notion, and claim the tale to be instead an edification of some aromatic blend of banahkias, or even of certain Elurien flowers—while there are obvious connections in such theorizing; this is a story of magick, clearly, not one of botany. I would tell any in doubt to bear witness to a fine casting of the Hearthwarming on a wintry night, for I am certain their opinion will change.

Of final noting, certain readers strongly disposed toward the Damean social mores may be stunned by the depictions given here to the mutual love and lust of Kirrus and Banahkal; I will say that I have placed such an uncommon star-tale so early in this collection both to demonstrate the depth of my research on these matters, and to dispel any notions of this being a sanitized translation. If you are seeking some of the truly raucous extents of Keld sexuality in storytelling, acquire a translation of The Knight’s Chaconne from a musical shop—it will undoubtedly be kept far in the back and beneath a blank cover.

The Keld peoples have long spoken beauteously of love and those other carnal practices, and it is merely one more of my duties as curator and translator to bequeath yet some of that beauty, as inherently diminished by translation as it may be, to you, the reader. If you are faint of stomach to such practices, or prone to bouts of the vapors, I recommend you not read on blindly.