The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

A Sword & Sworcery Tale with a spy and a princess



Sandor stood by the fruit stall, looking for the girl. The fruit merchant had been so insistent, Sandor had finally relented and bought a Jura fruit. He had to admit that its juice was sweet and refreshing as he stood in the humid, crowded marketplace. He was bending down to spit out the pit of the fruit when he saw the tanned legs and filthy bare feet of the tavern wench. He straightened and looked her over, paying special attention to her eyes. He was glad to see that her pupils were still dilated and she did not blink at a normal rate.

He had met Tanna serving wine at “The Grasping Fraz”, a nondescript inn just inside the city walls that catered to foreign merchants. It had taken just a few coins to reach an accommodation with the innkeeper for the girl to spend the night with him and to be his guide the next morning. Looking at her, he had wished there had been time for the romance he had bought. Typical of the young women of Valaysha, Tanna was two or three hands shorter than himself, with long straight black hair that reached her mid back. Light brown in complexion, she had large round eyes. Only her small nose displayed some evidence of non-Valyashi blood. Her curvy body was barely held by the short, brown shift worn by adult women of her caste. She was beautiful in a scruffy way, and he certainly was not above using his skills to enhance romance.

Instead, Sandor had spent most of the night using his special arts on the girl, taking her into a deep state of absolute obedience. That was his special role within The Brotherhood, the guild of spies and assassins in which he had been born. That is why he was sent to this semi tropical city, to recruit an indoctrinate women so that The Brotherhood would have a presence here. As much as he would have love to play, time was short. He needed Tanna to be his catspaw, then to forget what she had done, all of which took time and effort.

While he felt he had succeeded in enthralling the wench, he was always nervous when relying on a newly enslaved woman. He was especially nervous, when such a subject had to interact with others outside of his presence. He had no choice, however. The fewer men who could later remember meeting him, the better.

Tanna stood patently, her only movement an occasional slow blink in the glare of midmorning sun. Sandor, after making sure they were not being watched, passed his hand before her face. She showed no reaction. He took her hand and pulled her closer so he could speak quietly to her.

“What have you learned, pretty Tanna.”

At the sound of his voice, she turned and gazed up into his face. She quietly answered: “Barm the Beggar says the girl you seek does come to market every Moon Day with the other High Slaves. She spends most of the time with her sisters, but, without fail, she breaks off and goes to the same spice shop. I paid him the two silver pieces as you instructed, Master.”

He thought to himself, “A spice shop? That was truly odd. High Slaves typically had no kitchen duties.”

“Tanna, do you know where this shop is located?”

“Yes, Master”

“Take me.” The two began walking, with the Valayshi girl in the lead. Eventually, they reached the meat district. Amidst the farmer stalls, fish mongering tables, and curing tents, sat a low building housing several more permanent shops. The universal symbol for spice was above the door. He turned to the girl and whispered into her ear: “Go into the shop as if you are a customer seeking to buy Kavor Salt. Make sure his attention is on you. Use your.....skills. I will enter, but you will act as if we are strangers. Keep distracting him until I leave. Purchase the salt and leave and meet me by the Temple cleansing fountain. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.” Tanna slowly turned and walk over to the building. When she reached the entrance to spice shop, she paused and dipped her feet into the foot bath at the door. Highborn to slave, Valayshi women traditionally went barefoot, and the footbaths were always present outside homes and businesses alike. She entered the shop. Sandor waited a minute or two and followed. Tanna was bent over the counter, giving the shopkeeper a spectacular view of her chest. The merchant barely glanced at Sandor, but said the traditional: “Greetings, Honored Buyer....I’ll be with you in a moment.” Tanna was giggling. “Are you sure you’re not cheating me......three copper seems steep for a little bag of Kavor Salt.” The shopkeeper pretended to be offended and continued to flirt with the wench.

Sandor looked around. There was nothing truly remarkable about the place, no clue as to why a High Slave would so loyally give it her business. Then, a certain, pungent aroma broke through the odors of the other spices. He looked down and immediately realized why the High Slave came to this shop. In a place separate from the others, the shop had a collection of spices and dried herbs from the far north. His target was homesick, at least for the taste of northern food. That information could be useful.

He left the shop and walked over to the fountain. After a minute, she saw Tanna standing in the entrance, holding a small sack of salt. She turned girlishly and waived at the shopkeeper inside, then turned to the fountain. Gradually her flirtatious smile faded and her expression again became blank as she padded toward him. Her arms hung loosely at her side, the bag of salt slowly dangling. As he waited for her, Sandor noticed that the space next to the building was vacant and had room for a large stall or tent.

“Tell me pretty Tanna, how does one rent space here?”

“One applies to the palace and is questioned, Master.”

“Is there a faster, more discrete way?”

“Yes, Master. Jugal, the Market Teer, will grant one space for gold.”

He thought for a moment. He pulled out a purse. “Go to him, and tell him you represent one who wants that space. There’s 10 gold coins in there, tell him I expect for that price a tent, foot bath, and decent rugs and pillows. If he asks, tell him its for a Nagarean healer in Valaysha for short time.”

“Yes, Master.” Tanna took the purse and headed off towards a platform in near the market temple On it sat an enormously fat official squatting on pillows and smoking a Teko pipe. A moderately attractive slave held a gaudy parasol over his head, while a sandaled male slave wrote on a scroll. He saw Tanna respectfully approach. After a moment, the Teer motioned to the male slave who took the purse. After counting the coins, the slave wrote something on paper and handed it to the wench. She bowed, and returned to the fountain.

She handed him the paper, which was his market license for the spot.

“Master...he says the grant is for three moon cycles, and that the tent will be there as specified by tomorrow dawn.”

Sandor smiled. So far so good. But there was still much to do, and he no longer needed Tanna. He thought for a while. His training said that the safest thing would be to have her kill first the innkeeper then herself, thus erasing their links to him. He found the idea distasteful, however. Also, he couldn’t be sure she was sufficiently enthralled to carry out such dark deeds. Finally, he realized her knowledge of the Valayshian Street had proved useful, and could be again. He decided to take a risk.

“You have done well, pretty Tanna.”

Despite her trance, she girlishly smiled and said “Thank you, Master”

“Very well, indeed. You should rest now. Why don’t you ease your tired feet in the cool water of the fountain?”

The girl first looked down at the water, then slowly sat and swung her legs and lowered them until they were ankle deep in the foamy blue water. A contented sigh came from her.

“It feels good, doesn’t it, pretty Tanna?

“Yes, good.” The girl’s shoulders relaxed, and her breathing be came slower. She slowly kicked her feet. Sandor watched as layers of street dirt dissolved from her feet and calves. The foot baths outside most of the doorways were mostly just a nod to tradition. This fountain functioned to truly cleanse female feet and legs before they entered the Market Temple. Cleansing powders were added to the water, and the fountain was cleverly designed to create small whirlpools.

“See the dirt falling from your legs?”

Tanna looked down and focused. “Yes, Master.”

“Memories can just be like dust and dirt....they can just fall away.”

She seemed to ponder that. “Fall away, Master?”

“Yes....washed clean, pretty Tanna. Let the waters wash away everything from your mind from the moment I began massaging your feet last night until now. Let those memories just drain away, leaving a pleasant emptiness.”


You’re such a good girl.”

“Good Girl.” Her eyes were now completely blank and half closed, and her feet had stopped kicking in the water. They drifted down until they rested on the bottom of the fountain. He carefully reached down into the water and picked up the right one, and slowly began massaging the center of her sole. He looked around. The fountain was massive, and he had carefully picked this alcove where they were mostly out of sight.

“Yes...such a good girl, now empty of all those memories of last night and this morning...ready for new memories which will be more real than the ones that are now washed away.

“Away” Her voice was a sleepy murmur.

“You came to my room last night, and I massaged your feet. It was the best you ever had”

Tanna’s lips formed a sensual half smile. “The best I ever had.”

“Then we made love for much of the night.”

The wench slowly licked her lips, and whispered “The best I ever had.”

Sandor smiled, despite himself. Why not. He continued: “At dawn we woke and you gave me a tour of the market, the gardens, and the Three Temples. We enjoyed each other’s company, but we both needed a rest. You wanted to soak your tired feet in the fountain. I bought you a Jura Fruit, which you just finished.”

“mmmmm, so sweet.” The girl licked her lips.

Sandor paused. He thought for a moment, then continued.

“Now, should we meet again, and you hear me and only me say the words ‘Pretty Tanna must listen to the shadow hawk’, you will again enter into this peaceful state and obey my commands. You will again be Master’s slave. You will serve me until I wake you again, and you will have no memory of being my slave. Do you understand?

“Yes.....I understand, Master.”

“Repeat your instructions.”

She did, to the letter.

“Very good, pretty Tanna. You have finished the Jura.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out the pit from earlier and put it in her hand. “But you are a sight, with Jura juice all over your face. You should wash your mouth and chin. As the cool water touches your face, you will slowly wake, feeling refreshed and happy.”

The girl reached down, cupped some water from the fountain, and washed her face. After a second handful of water she sighed, and her eyes opened wider and seem to come to life. She looked confused for a moment, then smiled. Throwing the pit onto the ground, away from the fountain, she said:

“That was delicious. Thank you”

“You’re very welcome, my dear. Here, take this, as well.” Sandor handed her yet another small purse. “There’s 15 copper in there, give the innkeeper five.”

Her smile grew wider as she caught the purse, her earlier confusion forgotten.

“You’re too kind sir, ...are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you.........” She stretched her pretty, and now clean, foot out and found his inner thigh with her big toe. “The Teer would rent us tent space for a few copper if you want privacy.”

“Tempting...but no, Too many tasks to attend...and I promised the Innkeeper you would be back by noon.”

The girl pouted, and withdrew her foot, and stood with some grace. She then impulsively bent down and kissed him, and whispered “Come see me, anytime....and the only charge will be one of those foot massages.”

“Oh, I’m sure we will see each other again, my dear.”

The wench turned and began walking away, swaying her hips.

Sandor spoke: “Wait a moment. Pretty Tanna must listen to the shadow hawk”

It was as if a freeze spell had been cast. The wench stood frozen, her back to him.

“Raise your right foot.”

Without turning around, she said “Yes, Master” and lifted her foot. Water dripped from her sole and lower leg onto the market place cobblestones.

“Put it down, and when it touches the warm stones, wake.”

“Yes Master.”

He foot dropped, and her head seemed to nod for a moment. She turned and locked quizzically at him. Sandor threw her the small sack of Kavor Salt, which she caught midair.

“What am I supposed to due with this?

“Put it in the Inn’s stew.”

“Will it make it taste better?

“It certainly can’t hurt.”

The girl laughed, and continued on her way through the marketplace.