The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Eyna sat on the bench and sipped at her broth. Noebe was to her right, Linor to her left; across from them was the woman from Quinyr, Esmerill. Sitting across from her, Eyna noticed how much older than them she was; lines around her mouth, at the corners of her eyes. She was still quite beautiful, but an older courtesan without talent at pleasing men? Eyna wondered how much she had sold for.

Esmerill kept her head bowed, and sipped slowly at her soup.

Linor turned to Eyna. “Did you see that Wylla got a new dress? It’s the prettiest shade of blue.”

“I hadn’t,” Eyna replied. “That probably means that Sorcen got in new fabrics and gifted some to her. I’ve seen Wylla at the loom, she’s quite good.”

“Oh,” Linor said from her other side. “I thought maybe she had bought the dress.”

“Not much call for dresses here,” Noebe observed. “Not enough free women, not hardly.”

“We might be able to ask Thalli to get some for us,” Eyna suggested. “The next time he comes.”

“What in the six hells makes you think he’d do that?” Noebe asked.

“Well... Tremona wants us to look nice, when we’re in the salon. And we do have some of our own money, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind us spending it.”

Noebe gave Eyna a cynical look, but Linor sighed. “Oh, I’d love a new dress,” she said. “When I was in Norrengan my lady had one that was made of silk. It was the loveliest thing...”

Aric, the newest of the bouncers, walked into the scullery. “Soup again?” he said. “Shit.”

“You don’t like soup?” Linor asked him.

“Eh, this fucking place,” he said as he picked up one of several bowls from a tray by the door to the kitchen, “it rains so Hell-claimed much, I don’t want my food to be fucking wet as well—”

“Hey!” Princess leaned out of the kitchen. “Those are for the slaves. You want to eat, get a fresh arsefucking bowl and ladle it out yourself. You—Esmerill, take that tray to the strongroom and feed the biter and that other slave Loro’s got down there.”

Wordlessly, Esmerill stood up.

Eyna jumped up as well. “Let me,” she said. “I, uh, I wanted to go see how they were getting on anyway.”

Esmerill looked at her, then shrugged and sat back down.

Eyna took the tray with the bowls on it. Aric was already at the fireplace, ladling out some of the soup into a different bowl.

Eyna walked down the hall and past the slave quarters. It already had begun to seem like a long time since she’d slept there, on her tiny straw sack, with curtains for walls. She turned and walked to the end of the hallway, where the door had a heavy latch which swung down in front of it.

“Knock knock,” she said, lifting the latch. “I have food.”

Eyna pushed the door open, and stepped into the small room beyond. It was built stronger than any other part of the Red Sail, with wooden floors and all the walls made of doubled slats, a row vertically inside a row horizontally. There were no windows, only a slot cut in the sturdy door.

It was the room for girls who didn’t behave.

The biter and another girl sat against opposite walls. Their feet were bound tightly together, which seemed unnecessary given the room and the door, but to loosen their bonds would anger Loro.

“Would you like some?” Eyna asked, balancing the tray carefully as she dropped down to her knees. “It’s good, Princess made it.”

The biter turned away, but the other girl looked at Eyna and nodded.

“I’m really thirsty,” she said, as Eyna handed her the bowl.

“I’ll get some water,” Eyna replied. “What’s your name?”

“Coris.”

“Why does Loro have you in here?”

She looked at her feet. “A man came in to... to have me, and... and I couldn’t take it. He stank, he hadn’t washed in weeks, and his... thing was all covered in filth. He laughed at me, wanted to put it in my mouth. So I came out of the room and Loro caught me and... well, I’m here.”

Eyna nodded. “I always keep water and a basin in my room. Most of the men will let you wash them, if you do it as foreplay.”

Coris raised the bowl to her mouth and sipped. Eyna turned to the biter. “Should I leave the soup, or do you not want any? I can get you some water, too...”

“Fuck off,” the woman rasped.

With her leg, Eyna reached back behind herself and pushed the door shut. Coris gave her a surprised look.

“Listen,” Eyna said in a totally different voice, “if you want to escape, I know a way. We can go tonight. When the crier calls two, I will be in the garderobe; if you’re there, I’ll let you come with me.”

The woman just kept looking at the floor.

Suddenly, she leaned forward, and struck the biter hard on the cheek. The woman gasped, then snarled.

“Listen, bitch,” Eyna hissed, “This is your one chance. Ask anyone—I’ve run off before. I know the jungle. You need to make nice to Loro, you need to submit, do what he says. Convince him that he’s broken you. Because if you’re not free to sneak out to the garderobe tonight, I’ll be gone and you will be fucking staying here exactly as long as it takes to get your throat slit and your body fed to the pigs. Got it?”

“Why?” the woman demanded. “Why help me?”

“Us,” Coris hissed.

“Because our odds get better with two—three,” Eyna replied. “You’re hard, you can survive in the jungle. You—” she looked at Coris “— well, we’ll see. But you can come. I already have a place we can rest, it’s got tools and clothes and food.”

“They’ll catch us—”

Eyna snorted. “In the jungle? No chance. There’s no way of tracking anything in there. The animals might eat us but there is absolutely no way that any human could find us at all.” She looked behind herself, then reached for the door. “Anyway. I’m leaving tonight. At the call of two. You come, or don’t, I don’t fucking mind.” As she opened the door, her whole tone of voice changed. “I’ll go get that water. Eat the soup.”

Eyna stood up and stepped out, closing and latching the door behind her. She whistled tunelessly and walked back towards the kitchen.

A hand pulled her into a side hall.

It was Esmerill.

“What were you talking to them about?”

Eyna blinked. “Uh...”

Esmerill looked around. “You’re leaving, aren’t you? I’ve heard about you, that you go out to the jungle and come back. You’re going to help them escape.”

Eyna closed her mouth and said nothing.

“Take me. Please.” Esmerill held both of Eyna’s shoulders. “I don’t care if I die, I can’t live like this. If you’re going to escape, please, please, take me.”

For a moment Eyna said nothing.

Then she nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m going tomorrow night. Midnight. Meet us in the garderobe. And of course,” and her voice lowered even further, “don’t fucking tell anyone. Okay?”

Esmerill nodded.

They came together.

Eyna frowned but said nothing as the two of them slipped into the garderobe. The garderobe was built for one. If anyone had seen them coming together, entering together, suspicions would have been immediately raised.

But clouds covered the sky and the yard was as dark as velvet.

Silently, Eyna handed the two women cloaks. In truth they were barely that, just scraps of dark fabric cut into cloak shape, without even stitching, but they would disguise the womens’ shapes and hide their color. As they wrapped themselves in the cloth, Eyna pushed a small bundle through the garderobe opening, then climbed through after.

Biter crawled out first, saying nothing as her worn shoes squelched into the filth of the ditch. Coris followed, grunting with difficulty as she levered herself through the small opening in the wall, then hissing in disgust as her feet alighted in ordure.

But they both followed silently enough as Eyna led them down the dark gutter. The properties along the gutter had mostly erected fences or back walls, leaving it in deep shadow; nor were there lanterns or torches anywhere in evidence. From some of the buildings came rough laughter; even so late at night, men might be afoot, might come to relieve themselves directly into the muck trench.

But none did.

They arrived at the palisade wall. The vine had become a sheer mass, a solid sheet of leaves, completely covering a section of the wall. Eyna simply pushed through them and slipped through the narrow gap which the vines had once made at her command.

On the other side, off to the right some fifty ells were a pair of guards, with torches mounted on poles. The light did not reach even a quarter of the distance to the grate. Other than that, all was dark.

Biter slipped through, then Coris.

“Come,” Eyna whispered, and led them across the mud of the clearing.

Soon enough the black wall of the jungle loomed before them. Eyna paused a moment to pull a rope from the small bundle she carried.

“Hold this,” she said softly. “To stay together.”

Leading the other two into the jungle, Eyna moved slowly; Khuluub was not in them, guiding, and there were soft hisses and oaths as they barked shins or stepped into holes.

Perhaps half an hour later Eyna said “Hold”, and paused. “We are far enough for this.” From the bundle she carried she drew out torches, sticks topped with rags soaked in oil, and lit them with flint and steel. The flames leapt up, illuminating a pitifully small area—the womens’ faces, their arms, the looming trunks of the giant trees. The leaves at their feet glistened wetly; there was no chance of the jungle catching fire.

“Come,” Eyna said. She could almost feel their fear, but it neither pleased nor bothered her. They were moving toward their purpose.

She led them towards the temple. Night predators passed them unseen, kept away not by the flickering torchlight but by the will of Khuluub. None of the women spoke.

With the greater speed allowed by their light they soon arrived at the hill. Eyna led them atop and then along the great bole of the fallen tree, and under the earth.

“Atra’s Balls,” Biter breathed, as they entered the temple chamber.

Eyna hopped down and helped Biter, then Coris, down from the great tree.

“What is this place?” Biter asked, holding her torch aloft, staring at the arching walls, the patterned tiles of the floor.

“A temple of Kaz Ghuul,” Eyna replied. “The drowned city.”

“Why are we here?” Coris asked.

“To rest,” Eyna replied. “We can go further during the day. No one will find us here.”

Biter had walked to the edge of the pool. She held her torch over it, stared down. “What is this?”

Eyna walked to join her, and found that the entire basin of the pool was filled to the lip with creeping vines. She smiled in the darkness.

“Temple pool. I guess enough light gets in from above that plants can grow.”

Biter looked up at the oculus; with the thick clouds, there was little way of telling that it opened to the sky.

“We should rest,” Eyna said. She unrolled her bundle to reveal sleeping mats. “I can watch first. I daresay I have gotten more sleep than either of you, these last days.”

The other two women did not argue; they found a spot near the wall that seemed to be the most free of dirt, and laid out the mats. Lying down, they pulled the thin cloaks over them.

Eyna gathered together some small branches from the fallen tree, stacked them together near the sleeping mats, then placed the torch among them. Soon the flickering light from the fire was dancing on the walls and playing across the vaulted ceiling.

“Get some rest,” she said. “When the sun rises, we can plan our escape.”

Eyna awoke.

Trusting in Khuluub to keep her safe, she had let herself doze off. She looked up at the oculus—it was still well before dawn. The clouds had moved off, and a few stars twinkled far above.

The fire had burned out; with her flint, Eyna lit one of the torches.

She smiled.

Both women were still in their sleeping mats, but now they were wrapped in vines. Two long creepers had risen from the pool, crept across the floor, and quickly and silently enveloped each of the slaves.

Eyna came near. She held her torch over Coris; the woman’s eyelids were flickering, but her limbs were slack.

Gingerly, Eyna pulled back the cloak that covered Coris’ sleeping form.

The vine had grown into her stomach.

The small tendrils that enfolded Coris were offshoots from the main stem, the one that ran from the pond. It had crept into Coris’ bed and curled into her navel; then roots grew from it down into Coris’ flesh. Eyna marveled at the small ridges beneath the slaves skin that marked the filaments transforming her body.

Gently, she pulled the cloak back over Coris’ form.

She turned to Biter. It struck her that she did not know the woman’s real name, and never would.

Biter, too, was enfolded in tiny vines, within and without. Her limbs twitched. Her eyelids shivered.

Eyna rejoiced to see the will of Khuluub being done.

She snuffed out the torch; Eyna would have no trouble returning through the jungle in the dark. But it were best she was back before dawn.

With a last look at the twitching forms of the sleeping women, Eyna vaulted onto the tree trunk and slipped into the night.

The rosy fingers of dawn were clutching at the sky as Eyna slipped out of the garderobe and crept across the muddy yard. She paused to remove her boots in the kitchen, then carried them up the stairs and into her darkened room.

Putting the boots on a mat, she crept to the bed.

The room lit up.

“Oh, I have you,” Loro said.

He had been sitting in a chair, by the door, and rose with the unhooded lantern in his hand.

“You took those bitches out, didn’t you?” he hissed, putting the lantern on the floor, and taking his crop from his belt. “You disloyal cunt. I knew you’d fuck up. I just had to wait.” He closed the door to the room and slid the chair underneath the handle.

Eyna backed away.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for this. The boots will tell the story. Where did you take them, cunt? And why did you come back? Oh, but I’m glad you came back.”

Eyna’s back was up against the wall. Loro came forward.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he said, then lashed her face with the crop. Eyna cried out in pain. “You’re mine, now, cunt. All those airs you’ve put on, all that kissing ass, none of it is going to keep me from cutting your skin off and feeding it piece by piece into your lying fucking mouth.”

He swung the crop, causing her to flinch, but stopped it midair and punched her viciously in the stomach instead. Eyna doubled over and fell to the floor.

“Stealing Tremona’s slaves! You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t have me blind you.” He kicked her hard in the side and Eyna gasped as she rolled across the floor. He kicked her again, and laughed.

“You cunts always do it, always think the moment you get shown a little kindness that you’re somehow better. That you’re in control. But you’re not,” he kicked her again, “you’re just cunts, and you need to be shown—” kick “—your—” kick “—fucking—” kick “—place!”

Eyna was on the floor by the bed now, forced up against the nightstand. She reached upward with her hand and Loro struck her with the crop.

“You want something, cunt?” He looked at the nightstand. “Oh, it’s your fucking flower, is it? Out the fucking window it goes—” he grabbed the pot with his free hand.

The flower blew a puff of pollen into his face.

“Bah!” he spat. “The fuck... hk... kkk....!!”

Loro dropped the pot, which bounced on the floor. His hand went to his throat.

“Kk! Kk...!!”

Eyna sat up, wincing, and smiled.

Loro’s eyes bulged. The crop skittered across the floor. Clutching his throat with both hands, he turned toward the door.

A slim leg crossed in front of his ankle and he tripped and fell heavily to the floor.

Loro rolled over, face turning red. His neck was straining, corded, his eyes bulging as both hands clawed at his throat.

Leaning heavily against the bed, Eyna stood up.

She smiled at him. “Goodbye, Loro,” she said quietly, as she picked up the flowerpot and put it back on the nightstand. Then stepped past his shuddering body to the door. She slid the chair away, and cleared her throat.

“Help!” she shouted, her eyes on Loro as she opened the door. “Oh, help! Something is happening to Loro!”

They stood around and looked down at Loro’s body.

“I don’t understand,” Eyna said, weeping. “He came in and demanded to know if I had seen him, had seen them. I didn’t know what he was talking about, so he started beating me. He kept asking if I had seen them leaving. I didn’t know what he was talking about! Why did he keep hitting me?”

“There, there,” Wylla said, patting Eyna’s hair. “It’s okay.”

Aric looked up from where he knelt next to the corpse. “Apoplexy, it looks like. Heart gave out. I’ve seen this before, can happen to an angry man.” His mouth made a wry twist. “And Loro was pretty angry.”

“Fuck,” Tremona spat. “I knew his temper would kill him eventually. But why fucking now? I need him; there’s so much to do. Bugger the gods.”

“Tremona,” Horr Hen said as he walked into the room, “Those two troublemakers are gone. The Biter and that other one. Cornis.”

“Coris,” Princess corrected.

“Fuck,” Tremona said again. “Loro must have taken them somewhere.”

“That doesn’t sound like Loro,” Wylla said. “The Red Sail was his life.”

Tremona shrugged. “He was a man with... unusual needs. Fuck! Neither of them were worth much, at any rate.” She looked at Eyna. “Fuck, but he did a number on you. Wylla, get her some unguent for that mark on her face. I don’t want it swelling. Shit, I’m going to need a new bully. Horr Hen, carry Loro downstairs. We’ll get him to the corpse-takers later. Wylla, take care of Eyna for a while. Princess, come with me, I need to think about what we’re going to do.”

There was a soft chorus of “Yes, Tremona”. Horr Hen hoisted Loro’s body over his shoulder and took it from the room. Aric held the door open as Tremona and Princess left, then slipped out after.

“Let’s get you in bed,” Wylla told Eyna. “You’ve had a hard night.”

Eyna nodded, rubbing her eyes. “Thank you, Wylla,” she said.

She let Wylla tuck her in, then drifted off to sleep.

There was a rap at the door. “Come,” Eyna said.

Esmerill stuck her head into the room. Eyna beckoned to her.

The ring-haired slave closed the door behind herself. She walked over to where Eyna was seated, sewing.

“Why?” she asked.

Eyna looked at her, but said nothing.

“It was you, who took them,” Esmerill said quietly. “Everyone says it was Loro but it wasn’t, it was you. Why did you take them, and not me? I asked you to take me.” Her cheek twitched. “I need you to take me.”

Eyna smiled, and reached out a hand. Esmerill flinched, then controlled herself as Eyna stroked her cheek.

“Because I see a different future for you, Esmerill of Quinyr. We all have our purposes to serve, and your destiny can be a much greater thing than that of Coris and... the other.”

“What did you do to them?” Esmerill whispered.

“They are embracing their purposes now,” Eyna replied, standing up. She put the sewing aside. “Would you like to see, what I desire for you? What I have to offer?”

Esmerill’s eyes were wide. “I don’t... tell me. Tell me, first.”

Eyna took a few steps from the bed, then slowly turned in place, her arms outstretched.

“All this,” she said, looking out the window, “all of what men now call Trasdemere, was once Kaz Ghuul. Centuries ago, the other kingdoms of men allied together from fear of Kaz Ghuul’s power, crushed the Ghuuli armies, and laid the realm low. But so fearful were they, even in victory, that they dammed the river Tras and filled the entire valley with water. Kaz Ghuul was no more.”

Eyna turned to Esmerill and her eyes glittered. “But the wheel turns. Kaz Ghuul is gone. The Ghuuli empire is no more. But not all of their gods are dead. Not all departed. One yet remains. For centuries, she has waited. We stand now at the very birth of her ascendance.”

Esmerill’s face had gone pale. “You’re touched,” she said, staring at Eyna.

“Yes,” Eyna agreed. “By her. By my Mistress. By Khuluub.”

As she said the word, Esmerill shivered.

“I offer you a choice, whore of a northern queen. Give yourself to my Mistress, as I have, and become her instrument. Or don’t. Run, run as far as you can, and perhaps you shall escape the awesome glory of her reawakening.”

Eyna walked to the window, and looked out. The sky above Torr Gyn was clear, the sun drying the mud, but to the east dark clouds shifted and pushed.

“Or perhaps you will just get eaten by a jungle cat.”

She turned around. Esmerill sat on the bed.

“Well?” Eyna asked. “Do you wish to know my Mistress? I can show her to you. Be warned, even to dream of her glory is to worship her forever.”

Esmerill looked up. “Is she... evil?”

Eyna smiled. “She is power. She is purpose. Human morality does not apply to her.”

Esmerill looked at the door. “If I want to leave, will you let me go?”

“Yes.”

Esmerill inhaled. She looked toward the window, then back at Eyna.

“Show her to me.”

Eyna’s smile widened. She turned to the nightstand and picked up the potted flower; it had grown larger even since Loro had breathed his last; the flower that had slain him hung withered now, a growing bulb at its base. A new flower, the size of a hand and pale yellow in color, stood erect three hands up from the plant’s base.

“She is here,” Eyna said, and held the pot out to Esmerill. Esmerill took it in both hands, and looked at the flower.

“The flower—”

A cloud of pollen sprayed into her face.

“Hk. Kk. Hkkk!” Esmerill’s throat clenched shut, and her eyes shot wide in fear.

“Sleep,” Eyna told her, as she took the pot from Esmerill’s suddenly flailing hands. Esmerill’s hands clutched at her neck as she strained to breathe.

Eyna put fingertips to Esmerill’s breast, and pushed her backward onto the bed.

“Dream.”