The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“The Way of Obedience”

( FF / mc )

NOTES & DISCLAIMER

This text is copyright ©2005 blankpage, and is not to be redistributed or archived without the express permission of the author and without inclusion of this disclaimer. If you are under the age of 18 or are offended by descriptions of explicit sexual activity fitting the above codes, please stop reading here and do something productive with your life (or watch the Disney Channel).

* * *

PART ONE—Enter Zoira

The cold was bitter and the wind was biting.

Zoira wrapped her long hair, which she had fashioned into a shawl, tighter around her and hugged her bags closer to herself. Despite her natural resistance to cold, she needed to find a warm place soon, or she risked dying, or worse yet, capture.

‘Wait...’ she said to herself. ‘Is that a light?’

Indeed, Zoira could see a flickering light in the distance. As she got closer, she could also see a small, faint pillar of smoke, a sign of a chimney. Was there an inn or a shelter? Out here in the middle of nowhere?

As she got closer, she could see the sign:

CROCUS FLOWER SHELTER

The building was a cottage, very cozy looking, with evergreen trees surrounding it like a canopy. The grounds were, for the most part, free of snow. Zoira approached the gate slowly. In this time of war, she didn’t want to be taken by surprise by anything. She went to the door and used the ornate knocker.

After some time, the door opened and Zoira was greeted by a muscular, wiry young woman wearing a plush jacket over a light brown tunic. “What are you doing out here in the cold?” she said with alarm. “Come in, come in.” She took Zoira’s hand and almost dragged her inside, closing the door behind her.

The rich warmth was so thick in the air, Zoira could almost taste it. Especially compared to the bitter outdoor weather. Her hair fell away from around her and slipped to the ground, and she removed her hair ties from her pocket. As she wrapped her hair up in buns, the girl who brought her in noticed.

“A Pelean? It’s not every day we get one of you. You’re a long way from home.”

Zoira glanced up quietly. “I have no home,” she whispered. “At least... not yet.”

The girl grimaced slightly. “Dumb me. I’m sorry. This war has been hard on everyone. My name is Freia.”

“Freia?” Zoira looked over the youthful and beautiful girl. “But... that’s an ogre’s name.”

Freia giggled bashfully.

“No way...” Zoira gasped as she tightened her hair bows. “But you’re so... feminine.” But on closer inspection, she could tell. The shoulders were wider, the face was a bit bigger, her limbs a bit larger in proportion to her body. But she didn’t look at all like a typical...

A commanding voice interrupted her thoughts. “Hello there,” the strong female voice said. “May I help you?”

Zoira looked up and saw a tall redheaded woman, dressed elegantly if not a little revealingly. She appeared to be the Mistress of the cottage. The most interesting thing about her was a pair of dark glasses she wore to cover her eyes. Snow blindness?

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Zoira said in a soft voice. “I’m travelling through, and the blizzard is really bad. I need a place to stay for the night.”

“Ah,” the woman said. “Well... I don’t think this blizzard is going to clear up for some time, and I wouldn’t feel right letting you out into this weather. I don’t mean to pry, but... where are you going?”

“To Raulus,” Zoira said. “I’m trying to make a home there. I lost mine. I heard they need nurses.”

“Oh, I see. Unfortunately, this blizzard is quite large, and I think it will be worse tomorrow. I can’t let you go out there, until it clears. You are welcome to stay with us. We will feed you and give you shelter.”

Zoira started to protest, but the woman leaned over and gently squeezed her shoulder, and she didn’t feel the need to. “Stay with us,” the woman repeated and Zoira just nodded slowly, her mouth drying slightly.

“I am Rochelle. I’m Mistress of the shelter. You’ve already met Freia, and you’ll meet the other slaves of the house.”

‘Slaves?’

Rochelle turned and spoke in a deep voice. “We have a visitor. Come get her things and get a room ready for her. She’ll be staying with us awhile.”

Zoira dropped her bags. Two girls and a young man came in, and Rochelle nodded towards them, speaking in a language Zoira did not understand; it sounded very musical. The man picked up the bags, and the girls scurried off, presumably to fix up her room. Each one of the people was of a different species. They didn’t stay long enough for Zoira to get a good look, but one of the girls definitely looked like a catwoman... She could see the telltale tail swishing behind her.

“You just wait here,” Rochelle said, walking away. “Your room will be ready in a moment.”

Zoira found a soft chair and slumped into it, happy to take a load off. She noticed Freia was still in the hallway, looking over Zoira with a smile. The ogress’ tunic was light and small and very low cut, leaving little to the imagination. Almost... sluttish. Yet, there was an air of softness there too—especially unusual given Freia’s species.

Freia’s bottom lip went into her mouth as she looked her over, and suddenly Zoira was very nervous.

Zoira glanced around the room. It looked like there were a number of girls there, all dressed skimpily in an outfit similar to Freia’s. Some of them were embracing each other and kissing. ‘Oh dear,’ Zoira thought to herself. ‘Did I land myself in a brothel?’

“Your room is ready,” a soft voice purred.

The catwoman from earlier was holding her paw out to Zoira. Her skin was dark and olive and her fur was white, covering her lower arms and legs as well as small areas all over her body, and a pair of cat ears popped out of her dark hair.

Zoira unsteadily got up and took the catwoman’s hand and allowed herself to be led to her room. She noticed the meek grace with which she carried herself—meekness very unusual among the famously wild catwomen. Her tail was shaved at the tip, also odd.

“By the way, I’m Linora,” she said. “And I’ll be your servant while you are here.”

Zoira found herself glancing at Linora’s hips as she moved...

Linora opened the door to Zoira’s room. It was quite comfortable, with a wardrobe and a dresser drawer, and a window which offered the promise of a nice view, given clearer weather. Warm heat emanated from a vent off to the side, and a door led to a bathroom.

“I’ve run a bath for you,” Linora said. “Would you like me to bathe you?”

“Excuse me?” Zoira gasped.

“Would you like me to bathe you?” Linora repeated, like it was the most normal thing in the world. She went on. “You looked very tired, so I just thought I would ask.”

Zoira pictured paws running up and down her nude form cleansing her, and she felt a tremor from inside. ‘Stop,’ she told herself. ‘You should not be thinking such thoughts.’

“No, thank you,” Zoira said, again taking notice of how humble the catwoman was.

“Okay,” Linora said. “Well... I saw you didn’t have any nightclothes, so I got some for you. They’re outside the bathroom, so you can just put them on when you’re done.”

“You put away my things?” Zoira said as she uncurled her hair from her buns.

“Yes, of course,” Linora said, smiling. “Is there anything else you need?”

Zoira shook her head.

“Very well... we want to make you comfortable while you are here, so if you need anything else, just give us a ring.” Linora bowed her head and turned to leave. Zoira could not help but notice the swivel of her hips as she did so.

‘Now is not the time for such thoughts,’ Zoira chastized herself. ‘You’re only here until the storm clears.’

* * *

“Ahhhh...” Zoira moaned contentedly as she let her body soak in the tub, her hair splaying out all around her.

She found a vial of cleansing lotion and dropped it into the tub, and bubbles filled the warm water. She decided to relax a bit and take some time for herself before going to the task of washing her hair.

Her thoughts fell on the war. It was a fruitless affair between the monarchy supporters and the democratic alliance. It had drawn out for six cycles already and all that was being accomplished was that people like Zoira were losing their homes every day.

Zoira wondered if the Goddesses had abandoned their creations... or perhaps we were a failed experiment and They left us to our own devices. All this war and destruction, maybe this was our fate. Suddenly, Zoira didn’t feel all too happy.

Her mind drifted to remembering the girls she had met while she was here. Even in the short time she had spent here, Zoira had noticed something about them all. They were all meek and demure. And they all seemed very happy. Ogres were known for being disgusting and destructive creatures, and catwomen were freely lustful and coy. Neither Freia nor Linora seemed that way at all.

Zoira remembered what Rochelle had called them. ‘Slaves.’ Were they better off than the people in the “free” world who were doomed to die in this war? This thought lingered in her head as her prehensile hair began to dip itself into the foamy water.

Linora... Zoira didn’t consider herself a bisexual at all, but this catwoman was piquing her interest all of a sudden. Maybe it was her uncharacteristic humility combined with her feline charm—or that she was just so beautiful. Whatever it was, Linora was in Zoira’s mind. She almost wished she had taken Linora up on her offer now, and started to fantasize that she was in fact washing her up, rubbing her nude body with her cat paws...

Zoira stopped herself. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking that way. Peleans were a proud race that never gave in to such lustful carnal desires. They viewed sex as a necessary evil, as something that could only lead to destruction if taken to excess. And her sexuality certainly could not be expressed to another woman—another reason for Zoira to be disturbed by the feelings she was having.

But with nothing else to think of as she bathed, the picture kept slipping back into her mind...

* * *

In another room of the house, Rochelle sat on a large wooden chair, her shoulders being carefully kneaded by a house slave. Linora was in front of her, kneeling in a submissive pose.

“How is our guest, Linora?” Rochelle asked.

“She’s taking a bath right now,” Linora said. “She turned down my offer to help her. I think she might have a little crush on me.”

Rochelle chuckled. “How perceptive, My sweet. And the spell?”

“She’s resisting, but the poor dear is starved for affection. I don’t think she’ll hold out very long.”

“Be your most charming and seductive, dear Linora,” Rochelle said, moaning a bit as the slave at her shoulders caressed a sore spot. “She will see how good it is to be a slave. Do not make your move until I say so. Then bring her to Me.”

Linora purred huskily. “Yes, Mistress.” She stayed on her knees, awaiting the command to leave.

“You like her, don’t you?” Rochelle asked coyly.

Linora glanced up briefly before placing her gaze back down. “She’s very vulnerable, very sad. You know how much I like to cheer up sad people.”

“Yes, I do,” Rochelle said with a soft smile. She touched the hand of the girl massaging her shoulders and turned to glance at Linora. Her tinted glasses were raised. “You may go now. You know what to do.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Linora said, rising gracefully and leaving the room.

Rochelle stroked the fingertips of the slave and closed her eyes in silent prayer. ‘The winter has brought us another fine slave. Thank You, my Goddess, for blessing this house with Your love.’

* * *

Zoira had finally dried herself off and put on the outfit that Linora had laid out for her. It was a very flattering nightgown, although not nearly as suggestive as the tunics the girls wore here. Zoira searched the drawers for the socks she brought. She never liked sleeping with her feet bare.

She shivered and curled her jet black hair closer around herself. The nightgown wasn’t much for warmth. But the blanket on the bed was thick and wooly, and Zoira slipped between the covers quickly.

She blew out the candle that lit the room and tried to rest. She stretched her lithe body out and closed her eyes.

Linora... her smiling visage came to her mind again. Zoira shook her head and tried to avoid thinking about it, but with no other distraction in sight, it stuck in her head. Since she’d seen her, Linora had stuck in Zoira’s head. She knew catwomen liked to seduce vulnerable souls.

A gentle knock on the door.

Zoira looked to the doorway, her reverie interrupted. Linora walked in, holding a candle.

“Hiya, sleepy,” she whispered. “Sorry to disturb you...”

“It’s okay,” Zoira said reflexively, and then she felt blood rush to her face.

“This is a scented candle,” Linora said. “We light one for all our guests. It really helps them sleep. It might take your mind off your worries.”

“Oh,” Zoira said. “Thank you.” Something in the back of her head was warning her against it, but her body was very tired and she was curious...

Linora took out a match and lit the candle, placing it on the nightstand. She did this carefully, and gracefully. Zoira watched her through partly opened eyes.

The scent of coconut began to fill the room.

“Pleasant dreams,” Linora said. “We’ll help you in the morning.” With that, she walked out of the rooms, swishing her hips ever so gently as usual.

Zoira pulled the covers closer to her, as the coconut scent began to pervade the room. Her body began to tremble ever so slightly as her mind lingered on the image of Linora. Linora... such a good servant...

She began to imagine her and Linora together, cuddled up close against the cold winter. Linora would purr ever so gently and nuzzle Zoira’s cheek, giving her the warmth she needed...

Zoira’s prehensile hair began to move, without her being aware of it. It wrapped around her legs, and began to move her nightgown aside. Her mind became occupied with the fantasy, her defenses melted away by the scent of coconut...

Tendrils of hair began to caress her secret spots, and Zoira gasped. With her mind’s eye, she saw Linora’s paw move between her legs and gently rub her there. “Linoraaaa,” Zoira moaned, and spread her legs a little wider.

Her hairstrands found her sex, and spread her labia open, drawing another frenzied gasp from Zoira. She imagined Linora licking each lip with that tongue of hers, so very gently... a scent of coconut coloring Zoira’s fluids...

Her pleasure slowly but surely built up, and intense tears were forced out of Zoira’s eyes. Her hips began to thrust upward as she tried to reach for Linora. As her arms spread out and then drew inward, Zoira realized that her fantasy was a fantasy. She hugged herself and wept on her pillow...

Then her body began to convulse as the hairstrands touched Zoira’s clitoris. A powerful orgasm swept over her mind, and without thinking, she called out Linora’s name. The gentle touch of her hair was enough to create ripples of pleasure throughout her body.

Zoira felt empty as she came down, all the pent-up energy flowing out of her body. She looked on the window, watched the snow fall. Her eyelids began to sink, and she helplessly drifted away into a deep sleep...

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED