The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jack Kepp woke up when he realized she wasn’t in bed with him. He slid his arm across the silk sheet seeking the warmth of her and grumbled.

Cool. She hadn’t been there for a while. He decided to get up.

He crossed the apartment to the kitchen while belting his robe. He turned on the light over the sink. Looking at the counters for signs she had come in here for a snack. Nothing. He ran his hand back through his thinning blonde hair then flipped the light off.

He blinked in the darkness and thought a bit now that he was more awake. No lights were on in the place. He remembered the time on the bedroom clock. Three. Hmmm. Maybe she went out for a walk.

He paced back across the deep carpet and stopped when he saw her silhouette on the balcony. He altered course and took hold of the glass door. He studied her nude curves under the starlight. Deep brown skin the color of dark wood dug up from rich black soil wound down from her slender neck to an arched foot. Hair highlights were glinting even in the night sky’s poor light. He pulled the door open softly. City noises immediately moved around him. There was little breeze tonight and he smelled one of her homemade cigars and wrinkled his nose.

Oh, oh. Something’s up. He stepped out. “Tap? Bad dreams?” She didn’t answer. He moved to her side at the rail. “Or just a night for studying the stars?” He smiled. He was right, she was about halfway through one of her cigars.

She blew sweet smoke from her thick lips and smiled, “Both.”

He yawned and rubbed his narrow nose. “Anything you are going to do something about?” He watched her, she usually didn’t.

“I can’t, Jack,” she sighed, “I think it’s Ancient work. I’m feeling a bit worn. I don’t know why I’ve got the jitters.” She sucked on the cigar and the end went red and angry.

He watched and thought about her lips around his cock and smiled. Why not? We’re both up now. He reached easily for her perfect ass and squeezed her cheek. He knew she was sweating one of the things about her he shouldn’t know. He knew some of them because she had told him. Some he had guessed. The Duels of the Ancients were one of the things he had guesses about, but he knew that when a pair of Them squared off. The Others were forbidden to join in or take sides. There weren’t many of Them left. Maybe twenty in the whole world. “Take your mind off it?”

She smiled and blew a long lungful of scented smoke. “Maybe. Let me finish my fag,” she drawled.

Finish it? He nodded and kept massaging her warm cheek roughly. The night was chill. It crept up under his robe and tightened his balls up. He felt his cock warm a bit thinking again about her generous mouth on his tool. If she finished the whole cigar, she’d be higher than the Southern Cross. He altered that thought, Well, as high as she ever gets. Half that thing would put me in the hospital.

“Jack?” Sweet smoke curled about her head.

He grunted, “Um?”

She slid her hand over his robe then through the front opening. She studied the horizon. Her warm fingers found his cock and fondled it. “You have a mule’s cock. Hard. Huge. You have the stamina of a mule, Jack. Bugger me. Put that enormous cock up my nasty ass.”

As it always did, the jolt of her hot words and silky palm worked sudden magic on his tool. His vision swam for a second. He didn’t register the night air anymore. He dragged the robe off his shoulders and tossed it away. He looked down at his hardening tool. He’d been through this. He knew it wasn’t true and that it was only her power to make it so and shaped his thoughts, but when he saw his enormous mule-sized cock unsheathing itself, the red glistening tip straining upward, he felt like a living god.

She tossed the cigar away and it fell like a star down the twenty stories of the condo to the Sydney harbor wharfs below them. Her hand tightened on his member, “I’ve been thinking bad things, Jack. I’m getting uppity. You’d better teach me who’s the fuckin’ boss.”

He blew out his breath. So hot. His cock was still straining larger. “Damn fuckin’ right I’ll teach you.” He smiled. He grabbed her hand at his tool and put it on the railing. “Hold on slut. Move your hands from that rail and I’ll kick your ass instead of fuckin’ it.”

Tapestry moaned and he shivered with the words he growled. He took firm hold of her hips from behind. He began to rub his slick tool between her cheeks. Up and down. His tool leaked pre-cum strands. His balls were fattening and preparing a load of jism. He grinned. “Bend over and put your jugs on the railing. Tell me what you’ve been thinking so’s I can punish you proper.” He kept his boner working her crack without entering her. His pale flesh spread her black ass mounds. His head buzzed with her shaping commands.

She shivered now. She bent at the waist and crushed her ample breasts on the smooth metal rail. She rubbed her nipples left and right on the cold metal. “Bad things are happening out there, Jack. Things are coming unraveled. Something’s wrong and I want to get my hands into it. It’s a Duel. I’m almost sure. But it doesn’t feel right. I’ve felt this before—a long time ago.” She interrupted herself with a groan, “Oh, yes. Bang me.”

He slapped her ass hard. “No banging until you finish telling me, ass-slut.”

She went up on her toes. “That’s all of it. Something moving in the Great River. Bad things coming. I feel the itch to Do. To interfere again.”

He wondered at that. In all the time he had been with her, she had seldom actually gotten involved herself. A call here, a word there was her style. His blood was roiling now. He couldn’t think about her problem. “Then do me a reading later and we’ll see. We’ll talk about this later.”

“Yes, Jack. Later.” She moaned. She levered her hips up and down while rubbing her breasts on the railing.

He had slicked up the valley of her ass. He used his thumbs to spread her and pushed his mule’s cock to the dark blink of her ass’s eye. The red pointed tool wedged there. He heaved. She grunted. He pushed and it slid forward. Aaah. He kept pushing. Damn the thing was so big now. She took it all. He was so inside her that he felt the trembling of her guts through his boner. He grabbed her soft hips harder. “That was easy, wasn’t it? Could be that you’re not very tight back here any more. Might have to get me a bigger tool.”

“Ah! Yes. Bigger. Bang me. Please!”

His head swam. There was too much power in her words now, he couldn’t hold back. He started giving her what she wanted. He pushed against the soft pillows of her ass, then reversed until he could see the red slickness of his shaft. He pushed in hard again.

She yelled. “M’ber nok tli thot!”

He didn’t know what that meant. She spoke languages he had never heard of and would have bet no one else spoke anymore. Within his heat, he didn’t need to know what she said, “All right, you little ass-slut! Here’s your favorite treat!” He started stroking and slapping his hips against her ass. He brayed like a mule into the night air.

She slammed backward to meet his thrusts.

He felt the river of fire start to explode from his cock and he kept going. The orgasm didn’t quite reach his brain. That would happen later when she was done. He smiled. Damn—the fringe benefits of this job were terrific!

They continued the ballet that was as ancient as men and women on the planet. He called his challenge into the night. She humped for every inch of his cock.

The stars above waited for morning.

Sunlight cut across the floor and warmed her feet. Tapestry turned over another card. She was using the simple nine-card ‘marching line’ reading. She studied the card now in the fifth position. She picked up a glass of juice with her free hand and stared at the card.

Not good.

Jack walked into the living room from the bedroom. His hair stuck out at odd angles and his eyes were half closed.

She smiled. “Morning, Beast.” She warmed to an echo of pleasure from her anus.

He grunted, “Ugh.” He made a line for the smell of coffee in the kitchen.

She grinned. “You were fuckin’ fantastic.”

He made a noise in the kitchen to show he had heard her.

She chuckled. “Gonna use that man up if I’m not careful,” she muttered to no one. She studied the fifth card. The Star. She touched it and ran her fingertip across the breasts of the woman under the sky. Hmm. The Star was dead for over six generations now. At least a hundred years. This must be a new one.

Jack came back into the room with a big mug. She could tell he was a bit sore from the way he walked and she made a mental note to give him a break for a few days. “You started already,” he accused.

She nodded, “You know me, sleep for two hours and I’m done. I started when I heard you getting up. You took your time.”

He grunted. “Yah.” He knew from experience that extra visual cues distracted her in a reading so he walked around behind her. He wanted to see the layout and ask small things as she read the cards. He looked over her shoulder and muttered, “Um. The Chariot.” It was a familiar portent that came up in many readings.

She looked at the third card.

“Fuermacher?” he whispered.

She nodded, he was getting good at this. His mother and grandmother had some interesting bloodlines. Probably having him for a lover was changing his River dynamics after fifteen years. “Yes. I was right last night. It’s a Duel. I probably got worked up over nothing. I’m not sticking my nose into a Duel. I’ve learned my lesson.”

He nodded, “Good girl. I’m not up to punishing you again this morning.” His voice rumbled with barely concealed humor.

She loved to be called ‘girl’ and he knew it. It was silly, she knew, but it tickled her insides. She took her hand off of the Star. She turned over the sixth card and put it on the table. She bit her lip. The Devil. Oh no, not her after all these years.

“Haven’t seen that one come up in your readings.”

“Shut up, Jack, or go away.” Her voice was flat. No wonder she had been jittery last night. The Horror was moving out there.

Jack’s eyes widened. He shut up. He waited for her to rub the sixth card. She always fondled them to get a refined impression.

She didn’t touch it. She turned over the seventh and laid it down. The Knight of Cups. Her hand eased over it and she caressed the androgynous face of the champion on mount. Her brow furrowed. She looked at the fifth card again. Odd position and unusual meaning. The Horror between the Star and the Knight. This was puzzling. Bad enough that the Horror had come up in the reading. That probably meant the Salamander was done for. Who was the new Star? Who was the new Champion? She was sure both those positions were empty. One mortal with Ancient power and one with only faith and courage. Both bracketing the Horror.

She shook her head, “Jack, bring me the phone.”

He knew what she was going to do and covered his surprise. He moved quickly to the table and brought back the cordless. She took the custom-shaped phone and pressed the switch for the scrambler unit. Then she closed her eyes. She put her left hand on the Star card and with the agile fingers of her right hand she caressed the phone’s number pad.

Silence descended for several minutes. He held his breath to shallow breathing. This wasn’t interfering yet but he knew it was a step in the wrong direction. He had seen her do this many times. She started slowly pushing buttons. Hovering, then pressing one, then caressing with her fingertips and pressing another. After many numbers, the phone started to connect.

She picked it up. Waited. Someone picked up the other end.

“Hello. Ms. Forge’s office.”

Tapestry spoke suddenly with a French accent, “Oui. This is Andrea Mason calling for Ms. Forge.”

There was a hesitation, “Kendra is in a meeting. May I take a message?”

“No. I will call back. Merci.” Tapestry hung up. “Kendra Forge is the Star.”

Jack had quietly gotten paper and pen, “Got it, Tap.”

Tapestry put her left hand on the Knight and stroked the stern face on the card. Her right hand caressed the phone’s buttons. The silence stretched out for several minutes. This was harder. There wasn’t the same dynamic to trailing the influence of a mortal. The Star had been touched by Ancient power. The Champion was only mortal.

Tapestry added the beautiful power of the sex from last night to her thoughts. The warm excitation of the River within her. The stirring of the lines of force. The Champion represented honor and clean power, too. Maybe there was a sexual connection there. She narrowed her focus.

Slowly, one by one, she pushed buttons on the phone’s face. Finally she heard it ringing through. She was sweating with the effort as she put it to her ear. The other end picked up.

“Evelyn here.”

She wasn’t sure she would say anything. She didn’t want responsibility for a mortal in a Duel that meant nothing to her. There was quality to the woman’s voice. Tension. Strength. “Evelyn. You are in serious trouble.” There. That was more than enough.

Jack noted the name. There was a long pause before the other woman spoke, “What do you want? If you hurt her, I’ll kill you. Tell me what you want.”

Tapestry knew she had guessed right. A sexual connection and love bound the Champion to the Duel, “I don’t have her. You don’t know how bad this is. I’m calling you to tell you to leave it be. Stay away from it. Let her go. She’s probably already dead. If you pursue this, you will face a Horror you can not hope to defeat.”

There was a very long pause. “Then help me.”

Tapestry heard something close to tears beneath the calm voice. She ached for the unknown woman, “I can’t.”

“Then damn you.” The line went dead.

Tapestry bit her lower lip and put the phone down. “Evelyn is the Knight of Cups.”

“Evelyn who?” Jack asked.

“I didn’t get anything else. Apparently, her lover has been taken from her. She’s likely dead if she’s been caught up in anything between the Salamander and the Horror.”

“She? Too bad.” Jack cleared his throat, “Who’s the Horror? I haven’t heard you mention that Ancient before, Tap.”

She shook her head, “It’s bad, Jack. Don’t think badly of me, but it’s better if you don’t know.”

He raised a surprised brow and nodded. “OK.” He looked at the sixth card. The Devil. He made a note to spend some time trying to figure it out later.

She sighed. Well, she had done something and felt better. It wouldn’t be enough probably, but it also didn’t really qualify as interference in the Duel of others. She slowly moved to finish the reading. Eighth card, the Day of Judgment. She stared at her own card. “Jack,” she whispered.

He came alert, “What?”

“Get me one of my cigars from the bedroom.” Her voice was low and strange. He started to protest, then thought better of it. He headed for the other room. She picked up the phone and dialed a number. It rang and someone picked up quickly.

“Evelyn here.”

“Evelyn, I was wrong. I’m involved. I’ll help you. Don’t do anything rash.” Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. She was violating the old ways. The Others could kill her for this. Three Ancients in Duel together? Not done. Forbidden.

“Who are you?” came the steady tones.

“I’ll contact you.” She hung up quickly.

Jack came striding back into the room. He had lit the cigar and taken a hit already. He handed it to her from his mouth.

“Thanks.” She appreciated how much he wasn’t saying.

“This is bad mojo, isn’t it, Tap?” Jack met her coppery eyes. She saw he was ready for it, whatever it was.

“Yes, Jack,” she took a long drag on the thick cigar, “this is about as bad as it gets.” She slid her hand over the deck and turned over the ninth card. The Lovers.

She stared. Four Ancients and a hidden Fifth behind the Star.

“Haven’t seen that ninth card much either, love,” drawled Jack. “This is turning into a helluva reading.”

“That’s the Serpent.” She nodded feeling a sinking dread. “The only one of us who can kill without touching. She’s feared but she doesn’t Duel. She usually lairs in out of the way places or moves if she is disturbed.”

“So I take it she’s disturbed? Obviously you are. Am I following this right? I count four of the Ancients in a reading you already know represents a Duel.” He chuckled with forced humor. “What is this? The end of the world?”

Tapestry took a long drag of her smoke. She studied the marching line of cards. She stretched out her right hand and placed it on the ninth card. Passion. Loyalty. A journey. Darkness. How did the Serpent fit into this? She took another hit of sweet smoke into her lungs and held it there.

“Maybe it is, Jack.” She let the smoke creep out of her lips and rise up before her eyes obscuring the cards. “Maybe we should get in a quick fuck before it all goes to Hell.” She looked at the sixth card. The Devil. The smoke from her cigar made it appear the Devil was looking back at her from the mists of Hell. Its eyes were tiny glints of amber flame.

Corelle D’Amber drank thirstily from the small offering of sugared water. A slight woman in the dark green silk stocking hood and green coveralls removed the tubing from Corelle’s urethra and anus. While another tilted the last of the pint of water upward to empty the last bit. The water girl quickly went down the stepladder to the floor and both left taking the ladder with them.

Breakfast was over. Corelle shifted her head as much as possible in the collection of straps that held her body upright in a suspended ‘X’ of arms and legs descended from the gleaming steel frame around her.

A long flight in complete darkness was part of the fog of her memories. The burning agony of the drugs wearing off inside her body was printed in the muscles that still twitched uncontrollably. Slipping in and out of awareness to the sound of jet engines. Then waking in this nameless place nude and already completely secured in this elaborate bondage gear.

They used equipment to check her heart. They took blood samples. There were easily ten different people in and out of the bare room that day.

She had seen no sign of Heather.

Then a man had arrived with carts and more equipment. He had chatted with her while he slid needles into her arms and legs. His Oxford accent had been soothing and his manners pleasant. She had asked if he had authority to take off the leather hood that was buckled over her head. The contraption was also obviously custom designed for her. A complete covering of her head with removable eye and ear cups and mouth gag. The gag hadn’t been used yet. Corelle saw it sitting on one of the carts that held the racks of needles. She could tell the eye patch was still in place under the hood and the opaque eye cup on her left side was in place too. She asked to be freed for form’s sake. It seemed he was in charge.

He declined and inserted needles into her nipples.

She had never been exposed to a process like this, but she had already analyzed its purpose. She could feel it altering the flow of energies inside her in minute ways. She made no sign. She asked to see Heather.

He ignored her request. He asked questions about her business at PolyCorp.

She didn’t answer.

He continued his work.

Third day. Breakfast was over and the tubes removed by silent hooded women. Corelle’s body was aching a bit from the extremely stretched position, but also from the needles that were creating tiny disruptions in the flow inside her.

The man with the needles returned pushing his stainless steel carts. Corelle knew at this point that this man was not her hidden enemy. Hood or not, this was not the Salamander.

“Good morning, Ms. D’Amber. How did we rest last night?” He began his smooth chatting. “It is a very nice day. We shall get much done today. We have done well so far, but there are many more steps in the Needle Dance.”

She ignored him. He seemed to be offended by that, if Corelle could read his face through the opaque silk hood. He went to work with his damned needles.

Sometimes it hurt.

He asked many questions. She just watched him from her uncovered eye and said nothing. He inserted more needles. Some were taken out and others placed in different locations. Always more needles.

She was silent.

He inserted many needles in various combinations. She was variously cold, hot and numb but she said nothing to any of his questions. Small talk was over as far as she was concerned.

“You would do well to answer me when I speak to you. You are helpless and there is nothing to be gained by making your stay here painful or unpleasant.” He smiled. “My patron can be very generous.”

This isn’t the Salamander’s style. I’ve been had. Corelle reflected, I’ve messed this up badly. Evelyn will never find me. This is the end and I get to chose how it ends, little man.

The man saw that her eye only watched him. He put the gag in her mouth. She struggled a bit when she realized that the gag mechanism was also a clamp to extend her tongue. He got help and fastened it down.

He began to insert needles in her tongue and clitoris.

Sixth day. Breakfast was over and the silent hooded women were gone. Corelle felt like a leather skin that was tied up in the sun. She felt like she was shrinking on the frame. Becoming tighter and tighter. Thinner. There were barely two inches here and there of her exposed flesh that didn’t have bright needles quivering in it. The flow of her being around the needles was sluggish.

Her Keeper entered with a tiny woman who didn’t bother with the green hood. Corelle took immediate note. The white haired woman was under five-foot in height, slender, very long hair, snow-white lashes and brows; her face was an odd mixture of pale smooth skin and ice. She wore an old fashioned green silk robe with dragons threaded over it. There were laugh lines at the eyes.

Corelle had never met her but she knew Ancient eyes when she saw them. Amber colored. Normal pupils, but topaz colored eyes.

“Ah, good morning Ms. D’Amber.” Her torturer gestured slowly to the petite Ancient; “I am honored to present Celestial Fu. She is your hostess in this place.” His English was even more precise than normal.

Corelle nodded a few fractions of an inch to her opponent. Her mouth was gagged still, her tongue thrust forward in the clamp and dry despite this morning’s sugared water. Needles sprung from the front of her tongue and vibrated when she swallowed.

“You have survived the Needle Dance through 1203 steps, Ancient Serpent. I congratulate you.” She seemed pleased. “I have studied you for years. I have read everything about you and your history. I know your appetites. I actually stole the final remains of one of your clan from the Russian KGB archives and subjected it to research. The body the Russians had taken from Hitler. Back when the German boy was collecting bits of esoterica from Europe. Of course, the remains were dead for over 1800 years and some fool had used chemicals to preserve the body. I did not learn much.”

The laugh lines crinkled in the smooth face, “I know your mind. I know you will kill me if you can, but this will not happen. All of your people are looking for you in Germany. The Salamander is in a secret clinic where he tries to heal from near fatal wounds he suffered from one of ‘your’ assassins. I don’t think he will be too gentle with your employees when they look for you. I expect many of your people will die in searching for you. They will not find you.”

The small vibrant Ancient moved over to one of the carts and took the lid off of a rack of needles that were made of gold. “So I am here to finish this. I want the secret of your power. If I cannot have it I want you as my living weapon. If I cannot have that you will die. That would be a waste, since you are the last of your clan. I, too, am the last of my kind, Serpent. It is a lonely thing and I would really prefer your secrets to your death.”

“I still regret killing the last few others of my own clan.” She mused, “Nod if you think we might talk.”

Corelle hesitated. She had killed her own? Corelle thought back to the hunters who had taken down her sisters one by one. She was amazed to realize it still hurt to think of it. She nodded with a sigh.

Fu raised an eyebrow of surprise and delight, “Free her tongue.”

Hands rushed to obey. The needles there were taken out. The gag was removed.

Corelle moved her mouth and tongue for a few moments. “Where’s Heather?”

Celestial Fu watched Corelle for a moment, “She belongs to me. Do you have an interest in her that pertains to our conversation?”

Corelle could only nod a few fractions of an inch, “Send her home and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Fu shook her head, “She is mine. We are married. I cannot do as you ask. She would not want to either. You do realize who betrayed you?”

“Don’t insult my intelligence and I won’t question yours. She’ll go if you tell her to. She’ll forget all about this if you tell her to. She can go back to her life and not know a thing of value. You just have to make it happen. That’s what I want and it is possible.” Corelle’s forest green eye settled on Fu’s unblinking amber ones.

Fu studied the bound captive before her. A long moment passed, “We are much alike, Serpent. You consider the girl yours to protect. I consider her mine. In such matters, I have proven the wisdom across the years in being inflexible about what belongs to me.”

“Change is better.” Corelle offered.

“Consider our current positions and then reflect again on your words, my young one. Your flexibility is what I used to conquer you.”

Corelle licked her lips, “Then do your worst, Madame. I will shit on your bones.”

In a raw reflex, the man moved forward and slapped Corelle’s face hard enough to draw blood from her lips. She blinked away stars.

“We begin then,” smiled Fu. She moved forward and began removing a few needles with studious intent.

Seventh day. Breakfast was over and the silent hooded women were gone. Corelle felt like a harp string. She was a piece of catgut in a beautiful gleaming lyre frame. Becoming tighter and tighter. Thinner. There wasn’t an inch of her exposed flesh that didn’t have bright needles quivering in it. Quite a few of them were gold. The flow of her being around the needles was listless.

Her Keeper entered escorting the Celestial Fu. He pushed a cart with a new tray of golden needles.

Fu inspected her work. “The light in your eyes is quite dim, young one. You must feel very much not yourself. Thirteen hundred and ninety-one steps in the dance by my count.”

“Eat me,” came the soft whisper.

Fu chuckled softly, “We shall see.” She turned and selected a needle.

For hours, meticulous skill placed additional golden needles in Corelle’s flesh. Fu would only pause to look at the green eye now half-lidded and exhausted looking and go back to the needles and place a few more. Finally, Fu waved the cart away and rolled a needle in her pale fingers, warming it.

She reached up and slid it into Corelle’s exposed ear.

“Do you sing, Serpent?” she whispered near Corelle’s ear.

“Yesss.”

“Would you sing something silly for me?” She asked in a very reverent voice.

“I’m. Not. Silly.”

Fu’s smile thinned and widened. “Just sing a children’s song then.”

Corelle sighed, “Mary had a little lamb- little lamb- little lamb. Mary had a little lamb—.”

“Oh, that’s good. That’s very good.” Fu whispered. “That’s just so pleasant. Doesn’t it make you feel pleasant? Relaxing? Sing, don’t talk.”

Corelle’s eyelid melted down over her green eye until only a sliver of color was there below her auburn lashes. “It followed her to school one day- school one day- school one day—.”

Fu reached a hand back and was given a strong clipper. She reached up and snipped off the protruding top of the needle in the outer rim of Corelle’s ear. “Oh, yes, Mary was so fond of her lambs.” She nodded slightly keeping time and smiled. “Are you married, Serpent?”

“—and everywherrr—. No.” Corelle breathed.

Fu’s smile took on grand proportions, “As of now, you are married to me, young one. Until death do us part.”

Corelle shivered and her lip trembled. “Marrrried?”

“Yes. And I’m going to rescue you from this terrible contraption.”

“Yesss. Ressscue.”

“And then you will make love to me.”

“Yesss. Lovvve.”

“You will service me, my love. You feel the anticipation of this heavenly pleasure. You will submit and never worry about another decision being the wrong one. I will decide all things.”

“Oooh. Yesss.” A tear leaked down from the half-lidded eye.

“Hear the music. Hear my voice taking hold of your thoughts. You are mine now.”

“Yourrrs.”

Fu began removing needles. It was such a large task that she motioned for help. Carefully, two women stepped forward and began the tedious task of removing all the needles. Working at speed it was still a long process. Nearly half an hour passed quietly.

“Fourteen hundred and thirty-three steps to the dance. This is a glorious day.” The Ancient watched.

Fu unfastened her robes and slipped them back on her shoulders. Porcelain smooth skin. Pale. Four very slight breasts on her slender torso and their hard pink nipples at attention. She licked her lips.

Corelle was unstrapped from the frame and allowed to sink to her knees. Her single eye blinked slowly. She sighed, “My beautiful brrride. I am yourrrs.”

“Service me with your tongue, Serpent.” Fu husked.

Corelle studied Fu’s strange body and was aroused. It was more obviously inhuman with the robe half removed. Her privates were nude. No hair at all. It was clear from the darkening of Corelle’s own tangled mat of red bush that she was quickly inflamed. Corelle wobbled on her knees and got down on her hands to crawl forward. “Serrrvice,” she moaned. When Corelle reached the tiny shapely legs, she gently took hold and pulled her face to the nude slit. She moved with languid eroticism.

Fu made a small sound of pleasure and the people in the room looked away with lowered faces behind opaque green hoods.

Corelle’s slender fingers wrapped the tiny hips.

“You are so lusty for me, young one. Take your own petals in hand and cum on the floor.”

Corelle moved a hand to her sex and began to move her fingers over her lips.

Fu rocked her hips against Corelle’s face. She pushed her dripping rose against the heated tongue working there. Her tiny hands wrapped around the auburn tresses. “You will always spill your own cum like this when you service me.”

Corelle nodded into the warm slickness with growing vigor. Her hand increased its speed. She put two fingers into her vagina and thumbed her clit.

“You are my favorite courtesan. My favorite petal licker. Yes. That is your new name. Petal Lick.” Fu looked down at the thin woman servicing her enthusiastically. “Look at me.”

Corelle split her attention between tonguing the smooth pale slit and looking up through her lashes at the Ancient face above her. Her hips began to rock on her hand buried between her legs.

“Corelle D’Amber is no more. The Serpent is no more. They failed and were cast down. You are the courtesan, Petal Lick.”

She smiled up at Fu and nodded while probing with her tongue and thumbing her own sex.

Fu smiled, “Speak child, who are you?”

With a background squish of busy fingers, the woman pulled her mouth free and answered, “I am your bride, the courtesan, Petal Lick.” Her voice sounded younger and fey.

“That is excellent, Petal Lick. Tell me what a courtesan is.” Fu stroked her pale fingers through the auburn locks, rocking gently.

“Hetaera. Concubina. Cortigiana. Demimondaine. Prostituée. Whore.” She kissed the mound under her mouth.

Fu crooned gently, “Ah. Ma petite prostituée dite du bout des lèvres chaude. Succion sur le lait de ma fleur tendre.”

Petal Lick rolled her tongue over the bud of Fu’s clitoris. “Oui, oui, ma jeune mariée. Je lécherai votre fleur jusqu’à ce que les étoiles ne brillent plus.”

The standing Ancient came in a rolling wave from her feet upward. “Cum for me, Petal Lick, my new toy of destruction.” Fu hissed.

Petal Lick shuddered and her eyes rolled up in her head as she shook with a massive orgasm she couldn’t control or ride through. She collapsed in a boneless heap on the smooth black floor. Her head thudded on the stone. No one moved. Every other person in the room was on their knees with lowered heads. It could only be assumed they were looking at the floor behind their blank silk hoods.

Fu began to laugh.