The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Once and Future Gladiator—Part 3

[This story takes place in the far future, in another galaxy to which humanity has spread over the millennia. Any similarities between that future and the future imagined by a certain famous novelist of the last century is purely coincidental. All names have been changed, but the reader may imagine that universe where great worms produce a psychoactive spice upon which the commerce of many worlds depends. This story is for adults and includes barely consensual sexual encounters.

In Part 1, we met Lord Faidruath, the nephew of the Duke of Ghedyprime and his gladiator slaves. One slave, the Gladiator of this story, though slain by Faid, is brought back to life and exiled to the young Duke’s private penal camp, Special Gheddian Penal Camp #23, or “SPC23” as it was known. In Part 2, the Gladiator is transshipped to the labor camp and along the way meets Dart’n, the “Propagandist, First Class” and distant cousin of Lord Faid. Dart’n is being sent to the same penal center as its new Mind Control Administrator. The youthful propagandist, becoming enthralled by the gladiator slave’s overpowering masculinity, forges changes to Lord Faid’s instructions, hoping to manipulate the opportunity for his pleasure.]

1.

The Propagandist disembarked from the airship, pausing on the top of the ship’s ladder to peruse the SPC vista, spread before him. He was now in a mountainous area far from any Gheddian mega-city structures. They had landed on a barren, open field, some distance from the camp wall. That wall looked about twenty feet high, of some resistant armor shielding, glistening in the merciless sunlight. He shielded his eyes. Appropriate walls for a fortress, perhaps, but here used to hold those Lord Faid wanted disciplined. Beyond the enclosure wall he could see many uniform low buildings carefully aligned within it; several buildings were larger, of a couple stories. They were all the same color as the mustard brown of the local soil. The backside of the camp was a long mining structure that abutted the nearby mountain that was being relentlessly mined. It consisted of large metallic structural elements, connected by many ladders, with many bare light bulbs with seemingly haphazard placement: set-up for around the clock mining. Dart’n did recall something at a briefing about valuable rare minerals at low concentration in the huge mountain.

This was certainly not an agricultural camp. “No work farm here... but lots of hard mining work, no doubt...” he thought. He recalled another briefing, where he watched a recording of Lord Faid describing his intentions regarding SPC23. Lord Faid wanted the reputation of his special camp to be sufficiently fearsome that his people would be motivated to behave, while the camp itself was to be organized to maximize productivity—Lord Faid thought the best way to punish malcreants was to work them very hard.

The economic principle of “Mini-Max” was to apply to the inmates: Minimum input of Lord Faid’s resources; maximum output from the mine. Dart’n’s brief was to apply the newest mind control technologies to the camp—some of which methods might even stray beyond Imperial technology oversight, but to increase production, no matter what. Strict discipline supplied the penal aspect of the camp, but mind control would provide the motivation for enhanced production. Dart’n understood that his success at fulfilling his powerful cousin’s instructions would determine the course of his career in the Gheddian bureaucracy.

As he walked from the ship, he noticed a small group standing in front of the Camp Gate. Over the Gate was Lord Faid’s shield device, a bold “FH” on an orange background; under it, the banner, “Special Penal Camp #23—Serve, Obey, Silence!” On either side of the Gate were two inmates, bound to posts, arms and legs spread. Well, these prisoners, at least, did still seem alive and they had rests under their feet, so they may not have been hung there to die. The fearsome reputation of this Camp was, it would seem, carefully expressed. “Propaganda by doing...” Dart’n thought.

Before him stood the Camp Commandant and an honor guard of sorts. Ten inmates lined-up on either side of the Gate, a couple guards before them. The Commandant wore the appropriate uniform of the Ducal Service, as did the guards (stunguns held at the ready) all emblazoned with Lord Faid’s “FH.” The inmates were hardly clothed at all. The first inmate in each row looked a bit better fed than the rest, standing stiffly at brace, wearing old brown canvas boots, worn brown belt with a two foot long strap hanging from it. Other than his control collar, a Hark’n Orange bandana and stained orangish jock, the muscular inmate was naked. The other inmates were barefoot with just collar, belt and jocks. As he approached, he could see all their belts had a metal latch at the back and metal loops on their wrists were locked to it. The inmates all stood very still with eyes closed.

His first encounter with the Camp Commandant went well. He introduced himself at the Camp Gate. This officer, Sir Aark’nl, held the rank of Colonel, outranking the young Gheddian, though he was socially inferior to the Duke’s second cousin. Dart’n knew how to handle the situation, how to both flatter the older man and maintain the social distinctions. He would need to assert his authority and began to mind control the Colonel, to be able to mind control the guards and the inmates, especially those inmates with the discipline straps who had been selected to boss the others. Though, even the guards were actually inmates, since they were assigned there from military units as a punishment for insufficient training prowess.

As they walked through the Camp, Sir Aark’nl was explaining the way food was the Camp’s currency of control. All food and water had to be brought in by air. Both were strictly rationed and used to reinforce control. The inmates were made to drink plenty of water, since dehydration would reduce production, and as their daily water intake was carefully measured and controlled, it was to the water that various substances were added to aid total control, by calming the inmates and guards and eliminating aggressive sexual behavior.

Inmates were fed just enough to keep them just hungry. That way even a concerted inmate revolt would quickly run out of capacity to resist as there was never more than a couple days food at the Camp at any time. Any extra food was used as a reward and to keep the guards and inmate work bosses a bit better fed than the general penal population. The Colonel explained that within the Camp there was also an Enhanced Penal Division, where special punishment inmates were fed less, worked harder and generally abused in ways that would encourage the general penal population to want to work harder. He pointed to the two inmates raked on either side of the Gate. Motivation through example was the Colonel’s main technique. To Dart’n, this did not seem likely an enjoyable place to work. But, remembering the Gladiator slave, it had possibilities.

By careful questioning, Dart’n discovered that the Camp used rather old fashioned mind control broadcasts to the population’s implants and that all guards and staff, including even the Colonel, were implanted. That was a relief to him, since he knew he could gain control over the entire camp by simply installing the advanced Mind Control Module he had with him.

The Camp would rapidly undergo modifications in behavior mediated by modifications in the mind control system. He had definite plans forming in his mind, plans to meet Lord Faid’s expectations and have a rather more enjoyable place to work. Food and fear were not enough to motivate increased production. He intended to use the most powerful human motivating forces, though he admired Sir Aark’nl for his use of at least two of them. The missing ingredients, Dart’n immediately saw, were harnessing the sexual and belief (or religious) aspects of the inmates’ mind control. Since Lord Faid would certainly appreciate it if he saw to the further training of his gladiator inmates, he’d link sex and religion together through the martial arts: he would create a Fight Cult at the Camp; drive the inmates with sexual desire and religious fervor. As one of his Professors had taught, “True mind control starts with hormone and neurotransmitter control. Then the mind is easy to control.” Yes, food, fear, sex and belief. Dart’n hoped he was ready.

As they reached his new quarters, he thanked the Colonel and excused himself. After they left he noticed mostly the quiet about him—so unlike the Gheddian megacities. He and the rest of the staff had apartments in little houses build along a street against one of the walls, with the only greenery he had seen in the camp: small lawns in front and flowering shrubs against the buildings and wall. It almost seemed like a typical Gheddian small city street of a few centuries before. There were some distant sounds, thought: machine sounds coming from the mining complex. After checking his apartment, he thought, he should install the Mind Control Module, inspect those mining operations and meet the Colonel and his staff at dinner that evening. It would be a long first day, but one to set in motion his now decidedly more interesting plans.

2.

Dart’n entered his apartment to find all of his shipping containers stacked neatly in the center of the main room. The cage was also there, with the nude Gladiator still latched in place, eyes closed. He just stood there a while, looking at the extraordinarily masculine slave; at the way his strong arms and thick legs folded to fit the cage, how he relaxed against his bonds, surrendering completely to his circumstances. Waiting.

The young Gheddian went to the bars and released the prisoner’s bonds, then opened the latch and grating. To mind control this camp, he knew he would start with this inmate. “Eyes open! Exit! Stand to brace.”

The Gladiator sprung immediately, as though he had been ready to act all along, even while bound and eyes closed. He was out of the cage quickly, stretching up to full height, at least a head above Dart’n. The young Gheddian took a half step back and drew in a long breath. The naked slave immediately clasped his hands behind his back and stood stiffly at brace, eyes straight forward, gazing over Dart’n’s head.

It took all of his willpower to keep from falling to his knees before the muscular warrior; to gaze upward at his powerful manhood; to take it in his mouth and draw in its essence... But, no, the Propagandist understood that he needed to control his own mind if he was to mind control the inmates, the whole camp.

He stood looking at the Gladiator, thinking that the boxes could wait, then, “There’s a shower back there. Go into it and wait until I arrive. Move!” He watched as the slave immediately started to jog toward the shower area; watched the man’s strong back and naked gluts as he moved by, his big hands still clasped behind.

Dart’n smiled as he stripped off his travel clothes; there would be time later to don his impressive Hark’n Family Service uniform. He hurried after the Gladiator, reaching him a short time later. The slave was waiting, in the same firm braced position, facing the showerhead.

The young Gheddian closed the shower door and found himself standing against the big Gladiator. He reached around him and moved the levers that started the shower. He wrapped his arms about the slave as they were both soaked. He pressed against the man’s backside, feeling the clasped hands against his trembling belly. He became lost in the touching, warmth and smell of the slave.

Remembering that he needed to master himself first of all, he pulled back, turned the water off, and proceeded to soap both himself and the Gladiator, thoroughly covering both in rich, thick suds. He allowed his hands to very carefully explore the slave’s taut body, relishing in the heft of the big man’s balls, the exquisite curve of his musculature, the tightness between his strong gluts. He was pleased as the handling resulted in the thick penis becoming hugely erect, remembering that the slave’s manhood was as developed as the rest of his superb body.

While Dart’n wanted to remain with his Gladiator, he knew he needed to bring his plans to fruition, and reluctantly ended the shower. He toweled himself dry and then used the same towel to complete drying the man, whose natural warmth seemed to have evaporated most of the water on him as he waited for the young Gheddian to finish drying.

Leading them back to the main room, he told the slave, “I want you to help me unpack and move things about. There is some food in one of these crates, so when we finish, I can let you eat. Then I have to tour the camp and meet again with the Commandant. You will stay here until I determine what to do with you.

The two worked together silently, with the Propagandist giving brief instructions. Dart’n felt particularly good working naked with the big slave. He liked watching the way the man’s muscles worked as he lifted and carted things around. Even the heaviest furniture was easy for him to move.

Then they were done. Dart’n found the food he promised, some travel bread and spread. The two sat on the floor, the Gladiator crossing his legs and clasping his hands behind his back, without waiting for an order. The young Gheddian enjoyed sharing his way bread with the slave; spreading the cheese, breaking a piece, bringing it to the big man’s lips; watching him chew carefully, savoring it fully, and swallowing. They both relaxed and smiled as they ate in silence.

When done eating, Dart’n pushed the Gladiator down on his back, grinning. He positioned himself between the man’s strong thighs and leaned down to immediately engulf the flaccid, thick manhood, tightening his arms about the slave’s strong midsection. He sucked the cock to huge hardness and sucked hard and fast until the muscles tightened and the man arched, pumping his man cream down the Propagandist’s throat. They remained locked together for a long moment and then the young Gheddian released his prize, “Thank you for desert, slave. I need to dress now. You must know some exercise and stretching routines you can do here on the floor. Yes?” The Gladiator nodded once. “Good. Exercise here until I return.” The Gladiator nodded once, again. Dart’n stood and went to where his uniform was waiting, looking back to see the slave had begun his exercises.

Once properly clothed in the beige and orange uniform of the Hark’n Lords’ Family Service, the young Propagandist brought the new, advanced Mind Control Module to the dataport at his work desk. He installed it, initialized it, and waited, musing, “The Imperial authorities are always trying to enforce technology controls. This module is clearly more advanced than anything currently at this camp and so must be at the edge of permitted equipment. I know in the ancient days, it is said, information technology was greatly advanced. They even say true Artificial Intelligence had been created, but the first Emperors felt threatened and outlawed most of this technology. There must be an exception for mind controlling prisoners. Well, at least, I control this module and no one in the Camp will even notice the changes that are happening.”

Over the next hours and days the behavior of the Camp would subtly change. While food and fear would still provide basic control, sex and a new religion would provide powerful motivation. Dart’n felt the same vague sense that a new religion was about to break into the Imperium that many others felt, across the worlds. He had heard the rumors that there was a revolt on the spice world, Arra, just recently conquered by the Hark’n, led by a self-proclaimed Messiah. Only a new religion, the Propagandist thought, could shake up the complacency of the Ten Millennium Empire. But the religion he would create at the Camp would not be that religion, if it ever came to Ghedyprime. No, the SPC23 religion would be a Fight Cult, with plenty of sexual tension and release. Just as he worshipped the Gladiator slave, all would learn the ecstasy of submission to the best of Lord Faid’s fighters.

3.

The young Propagandist inspected the mining operation and noted the usefulness of what he saw. The Camp was built against a nearly vertical wall of mountain. The mining superstructure was set against the mountain. Over the decades the Camp had been here, the mountain had been worn back, by the hard labor of the inmates, several hundred feet. This left a large open area between the Camp structures and the open mine face. Dart’n saw this as a perfect setting for his new temple of desire and effort.

He imagined a large, open Parade Ground between the Camp and Mine. It would be good to institute regular massing of the inmates there—all the prisoners together in a state of extreme mind control, worshipping the fighters with their bodies. This would motivate greater efforts for the endless toil necessary to mine the rare metals for which Lord Faid established the Camp.

After meeting Commandant Aark’nl and other members of the staff at dinner, and noting that their demeanor had already begun to change: they accepted his suggestions and recommendations without question, he returned to his quarters. The First Parade of all the inmates would happen in two days; that was when he would tell them about Fight Cult; by then, the new module would have worked its mind control magic and all would believe.

As he entered the apartment, he breathed in the heady, testosterone laden aroma that pervaded the place. His Gladiator slave was still there, in the center of the main room, on the floor, doing push-up after push-up. A slight sheen of sweat was glistening across his bulging musculature. The young Gheddian stood there for several minutes, just watching the big fighter’s thick arm muscles pumping up and down.

He found himself falling into a trance as he watched the repetitive motion. He wanted the entire Camp to feel the way he felt now: in awe of the muscle stud who represented the ideal that would drive the Mine to higher and higher levels of production. He wanted them all to feel the desire he felt, to understand the glory of it all and feel his deep love of the masculine.

Dart’n shook his head, pushing aside his reverie. A high priest of the masculine he would be; but now, his altar was before him, and he had all night to worship at it. He barked, “Slave! Stand to brace! I’ve brought you a bucket of slave gruel. First you eat, then I’ll start training you righteously!” The Gladiator jumped to his feet, turned toward the Propagandist and stood at brace, his breathing deepening as he rested from the exercise.

For a moment the Gheddian just looked at the naked fighter, admiring him, admiring the manly beauty he saw; wanting to run to him and throw himself upon the body he could still feel and taste in his memory. Instead, he held up the bucket of slops, commanding, “Here!” and placed it on the floor. “On all fours. Face in the bucket. I want it emptied and licked clean now.” The big slave grunted a quick “Yupsa!” and went to the floor by the bucket. His head went into it and after a few moments of slurping sounds came back out. He stood back to brace, a few bits of the gruel stuck to his face. Dart’n inspected the bucket that was completely empty and cleaned. “Good job slave.” He walked up to the Gladiator, reached forward with one hand to fondle his hefty testicles and resting his other hand on one of his massive shoulders, reached up to lick the bits of feed off his face. He continued licking the slave’s neck and chest, savoring the sweet taste of sweat on his warm body. Pulling back, he pointed to a thick rug at one end of the room and commanded, “On your back on the rug.” The Gladiator complied at once.

The young Gheddian quickly shed his uniform, stripping completely, and ran across the room to where the man he wanted to possess was waiting. Looking down, he gazed at the supine figure, eyes closed, breathing easily, waiting.

Dart’n knelt before what he saw as godly masculinity. He began by touching the big slave’s strong, warm chest with his cool hand. He trembled at the touch of the firm flesh. He then stretched himself on top of the Gladiator, so both of their naked bodies were fully in contact. He picked up his head so he could watch the slave’s relaxed face, closed eyes. Then, unable to wait, he began to kiss the man’s muscled neck, ears, eyes. As he did do, he began gently rotating his body against the body beneath him, feeling his own growing erection sliding against the big slave’s thickening manhood.

After a few moments the Gladiator wrapped his muscular arms about Dart’n, pulling them tighter together as they pushed against each other. Dart’n sought to resist the bigger man, but to no avail. The Gladiator rolled them both over and began grinding against the young Gheddian, becoming even more excited as their erections stimulated each other. He had to submit to the strength overpowering him. He let the deity above him ride him, wrapping his legs around the man’s waist and thighs, feeling the enormous erection against him. He surrendered. The slave overpowered him, road him, overwhelmed him. Pumping harder and faster, the Gladiator drove himself to a frenzy of need, and arching and exploding, both burst into orgasm after orgasm, together.

Later, as the spent Gladiator slept on top of him, Dart’n, snuggling and breathing the heady aromas of his prize, considered how the Fight Cult religion that he was devising, with its worship of tough masculinity and the sacred seed of manhood, would maintain a level of frenzy and devotion that he would direct toward fulfilling Lord Faid’s directions. All the inmates would be devoted to the gladiators in training; all would worship their manhood; all would be as happy as he was now.

To be continued.