The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

After confirming the gladiator slave’s healing, and taking his pleasure with the bound gladiator, Faid ordered that he be transshipped to a labor camp, to punish him and recondition him. He told the slave, “...If ever you are able to fight your way back to my Dojo, and we fight, I may again preserve you, so you may be bound before me, so I may show you that I value you, like some brave steed of the olden days, or a precious work, or other possession of mine that brings me great pleasure. But only if you fight, fight, and fight harder than you could ever imagine. Do you understand, slave?”

The next day guards came for the slave. He was bound naked in the cage, latched wrists and ankles to it. A ball bit had been forced into his mouth and he was bound into a rolling cage. As they brought him to the transport ship, one of the guards read the instructions they had received to attach to it, “Hmm, our instructions come from Faidruath himself; say we are to be very strict with this slave, ‘Abuse but no damage.’ Huh—the young lord has strange ways.”

1.

Many hours later a young Ghedian found himself waiting in a transport ship belonging to the Duke’s government. Some terrorist attack had stopped all transport for a day and he was delayed in getting to his new posting as an Imperial-trained mind control expert. His training had been sponsored by the government as he was a second cousin, once removed, of the Ducal family. His job would be to bring the newest mind control techniques to the labor camp under Lord Faid’s control. Growing very bored, he decided to get some lunch and check on his bags in the ship’s hold.

A couple minutes later he entered the darkened hold, turned on the lighting and made his way to the rear where his bags should have been stowed. Along the way, he noticed a cage. Someone was in it; a naked, muscular man, bound to the cage, shaved head bowed. “Are you alright?” The man looked up at him with piercing blue eyes. He could see a bit preventing response. Then he read the instructions attached to the cage.

“I see. You’re one of Faidruath’s gladiators. You sure look like one. You must have really been worked hard to get you in such good shape. Says here you are being shipped to the labor camp where I’m going to work. Our lord’s instructions are explicit—he wants you punished, conditioned, but not damaged. That must mean you made him angry but he recognizes your value as a gladiator. Is that true slave?” The bound gladiator nodded slowly.

“Well, I was here to check my luggage and find a quiet place for lunch. But you must have been in this cage since yesterday. Did anyone come here to feed or water you?” Again the piercing look, this time with a slow negative nod. “We’re both going to the same place. Let’s see if I can help you out. My name is Dart’n. I’m a Propagandist, First Class. I’ll be working in the camp on attitude and enthusiasm. If I release you from this cage, you must obey me completely, or I will have you punished. Do you understand?” The slave nodded his assent. While slavery was not that widespread in the Imperium, certain of the “Great Houses”—the Ducal families, like Lord Faid’s, allowed the practice within their own domains. “Well,” he thought, “all Ghedian slaves are well-conditioned for obedience. You just have to know their standard triggers. No matter how muscular he is, this one will be no different.”

Dart’n reached through the cage bars and released the straps that held the gladiator to it, then found the latch and opened the cage. The man crawled out, squatting, then stood tall and proud, his hands still bound behind him. He eyes were more than a head higher than the young Propagandist. He was powerfully muscled, broad across the shoulders, with slim waist and tight stomach musculature, thick legs. The Ghedian stood back and admired the naked slave standing before him.

“You are an awesome example of manhood. I’m certain you do not want to waste away in a labor camp; I only contracted to be there a year myself. If you behave, I may be able to help you—I am very good at mind control techniques and could teach you to be an even better gladiator, so you can fight your way back to the capitol. Do you understand?” The big gladiator looked down at him, again slowly nodding “Yes” while glaring with an intense stare.

“Good. You do as I tell you and all will be well. Now, close your eyes and focus on the sound of my voice...” The slave complied and Dart’n could see him visibly relax as he began the induction, thinking again that the Duke’s slave’s were well-conditioned to obedience.

Later, after implanting what he expected would be sufficient control suggestions, he had the man open his eyes, “But remain in the calm warrior mind I have given you... You accept me as your trainer. In this state you are a better fighter than ever before. Understand?” The slave acknowledged Dart’n with an intense stare.

“Well, let’s take care of you. You probably need to piss.” The gladiator nodded. “I saw a toilet over here, let’s move.” He rested a hand on the slave’s strong shoulder and guided him. When they stood before the urinal, “I’m not going to release your bonds; you gladiator slaves need to be kept under close control. So let me help you.” He reached for the man’s flaccid penis, grasping and aiming it; the gladiator first tensed slightly but permitted his new controller’s touch, “Piss now.” The slave released a strong stream of steaming yellow urine. Dart’n could feel the force of its flow as he held the thick penis. When the flow stopped, he squeezed it, pushing out the last few drops. Then he pulled back on the shaft, exposing more of the glans as the foreskin retracted. The penis began to respond, stiffening to his manipulation.

The Propagandist leaned up toward the slave’s head while continuing to handle his engorging member, whispering a trigger word. The gladiator’s eyes closed and his erection continued to lengthen and stiffen. A glistening of lubricant began to form in the slit at its tip. Dart’n put down the toilet seat cover and sat on it, facing the naked gladiator. He cupped the man’s hefty testicles with one hand while continuing to stroke the shaft with the other. As a shinny drop of precum formed he leaned forward to lick it off. The slave moaned and leaned a bit toward him.

To Dart’n the aroma of the aroused gladiator was an intoxicant. He breathed it in greedily, licking and kissing the manhood set before him. Pulling the man toward him by the testicles he still held, his mouth engulfed the cockhead. He needed to stretch his mouth around the thick shaft, but shortly he was sucking on the slave’s erection. Submitting to his new trainer, the gladiator began thrusting and quickly began cuming, releasing a thick stream of sperm down Dart’n’s throat.

After he had swallowed it all, the Propagandist stood, close to the heavily breathing slave, and while continuing to massage his testicles, repeated the trigger words that would relax and focus him. He leaned against the slave, luxuriating in his strong manhood, whispering to him, “The more you obey me, the better you’ll feel.” Then he turned to leave.

The gladiator followed him as he led him from the toilet, “Let’s find my lunch to share.” He seated them both on some boxes, removed the bit the gladiator had been wearing, and opened his food container, but left the fighter still bound. Breaking off pieces of meat and travel bread, he alternately fed himself and fed the gladiator who readily took the food. Dart’n was astounded over how stimulated he felt sitting next to the muscular slave, feeling his warmth so close, brushing his lips with his fingers as he fed him. The gladiator seemed to exude testosterone. He knew, with complete certainty, that all he wanted was to remain close to this magnificent specimen. Between offering him food, Dart’n stroked the fighter’s broad chest, handled his semihard penis and rested his hand on the man’ thick thigh, who stoically accepted the attention.

Watching the big slave slowly chewing the food offered to him, a plan began to form in Dart’n mind. It was just a matter of controlling the perceptions of both the gladiator and the camp command. If he did so, correctly, this man would be his. As a trained Propagandist, he knew he could mimic Duke Faid’s handwriting. It would be simple to add a sentence or two to the instructions accompanying the gladiator. Yes, Dart’n saw a plan forming and smiled as he watched the gladiator, leaning against him, imagining. Closing his eyes a while, he imagined what it would be like to possess this man entirely.

Dart’n felt the ship shudder slightly as it finally began to move. He had made the best arrangements he could. First, when they had finished all the food, he told the slave to lie down on the boxes, on his stomach (as his hands were still latched behind him). He reinserted the bit into the slave’s mouth. “Sleep until I wake you.” The fighter’s eyes closed. Then he took the manifest from the cage (it was mounted on a clipboard with a writing device—the very one the Duke had used). He was pleased to see there was sufficient room to add the directions he intended. Just a sentence about improved control experiments and using the gladiator for that purpose; putting him in charge of camp morale and discipline. It would appear that he and the slave had been sent together, and together they would stay.

He stood by the sleeping slave a while, just looking and the massive fighter lying there, at peace. He stroked the man’s powerful back, feeling his warmth and vitality, leaning over to nuzzle his face against the gladiator’s neck, tasting and suckling his taut skin, enjoying the feeling of total control. He knew these gladiators were fed slave feed rich in aminos to enhance their male hormone levels. He could smell and taste the testosterone. He would have to make sure this slave was kept on a fighter’s diet, though he knew that labor camp feed was modified to keep the workers docile. He would use Lord Faid’s “instructions” to get what he wanted.

Pullling back from his reverie, he smacked the slave hard across his buttocks, stating firmly, “Wake! Stand now!” The gladiator responded immediately, showing how deeply the standard mind control techniques worked with him. For a long moment Dart’n stood just admiring the strong, tall, naked slave displayed before him. He reached out to fondle the gladiator’s flaccid penis, holding it until it began to stiffen again, “I need to return you to your cage. Soon we’ll be at the labor camp. But have no concern. Lord Faid’s instructions put me completely in charge of your training. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you. Understand?” The gladiator nodded.

He held open the cage door for the slave to squat and enter. The gladiator’s new trainer carefully wrapped the ankle straps around his slave’s thick ankles, admiring his strong feet. Then he attached another strap around the slave’s bound wrists. Another belt was wrapped around his hard waist and stomach, attaching to the cage on either side. Another strap was wrapped about his head and attached to the top of the cage. There was a small metal plate on the bottom on which the slave’s buttocks rested. Another strap led from the plate and around his hips. Strapped in as he was, he could not move and the cage could be turned in different positions without the slave being knocked about too much. Dart’n latched the cage door, “Good. You’re nicely secured. I’m going to roll your cage over to the cargo hatch and put my bags on it. Then you can be taken directly to my quarters.”

As the cage was no longer on a wheeled trolly, Dart’n had to roll the cage over and over again, causing the slave to go upside-down and every which way until he could maneuver the cage to the hatch, with the slave stoically latched in place. He reached into the cage and between the gladiator’s thighs to fondle his manhood one last time.

The Propagandist then left the hold, turning off the light, to prepare to disembark on his new, and now more interesting, posting. Yes, he suspected could thank his cousin Lord Faid for much potential pleasure in his new job. He briefly wondered if he would ever have a chance to do so. Looking out one of the ship’s ports, he could see they were landing in a barren mountainous area. There was a large walled enclosure and many uniform buildings carefully aligned within it. The backside of the camp abutted a peculiar mountain, no doubt the location of the mines.