The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Corelle D’Amber’s birth certificate will exist in two hundred and sixty-seven years.

The stunning blonde’s face came up from between the pale legs that were joined by the wild tangle of auburn pubic hair. “I need you to have another session with Paul. His courage flags again. It is time for another of your little eye to eye talks, Afrit.” Her blue eyes danced with intensity and she licked her lips of the wetness there. Her graceful body reclined the sheets with curves and pleasant pampered voluptuousness.

The thin nude woman sighed with equal parts pleasure and resignation, “Of course, Countess Aree.”

The blonde laughed, “You sound so put out. Is there not a pleasure to this for you? Come, be honest. It was not your first choice to have your needs satisfied by me now, was it? You need a man to make you strong. Is this not so?” Her blue eyes danced in the candlelight.

Afrit sat up slowly. Of habit, she reached up and pulled gently at the heavy leather harness and hood over her head that occluded her left eye and cheek. It was sturdily anchored to the wide collar around her neck. “I am grateful always, Countess. You saved me from the menagerie. I would have died there. I promised I would serve you.”

“But don’t ask me to tell you my feelings,” she whispered.

The blonde rolled onto her side on the silk sheets and looked up at the creature that served her, “I think your pledge should include no games between us, my little monster. Not only did I save you; you have begun to flourish. Why already you must weigh nearly as much as my daughter and you walk without a limp. Your language is almost refined. When I pulled you from the cage last year and had you washed up, the filth we got off you weighed more than you did.”

“And the sex, ah, yes,” Aree chuckled, “It was I that figured out that it was the sex you needed to restore yourself. Even with the gruel they were feeding you, you would have starved to death in that cage. Amazing that you lived through your captivity.”

Afrit sat silently running one hand over her opposite shoulder. She didn’t mind the name; it was somehow appropriate that the Turkish word had been applied to her. If the Turks surrounding Vienna managed to capture her, she would be beheaded immediately. The name was a constant reminder that it wasn’t only the Countess that held her here.

“Come now, tell me, there is a secret pleasure to it, yes? Wouldn’t you love to have your eye pinning me to the bed? The excitement of having that power! What does it feel like? I am always damp from thinking about your magic. Paul is always so vigorous after a session with you, so manly and righteous.”

The redhead looked down at the Austrian. “That’s because he really is that way inside. He just doesn’t know how to bring his strength out for the world without my succor,” Afrit whispered.

Aree laughed with a bubbling joy, “Paul? Manly? I can hardly believe that. I am his intellect and you are my secret source of his backbone. He has begun to have a profound affect on the plans to defend ourselves from the Ottomans. Until we have pushed the Turk back, we will continue the sessions with my husband. That is my command and should be your pleasure.” Her blue eyes watched carefully.

Afrit nodded, “As you will, my Countess.”

The lovely smile of the blonde did not touch her eyes, “Yes. I love you when you say that, Afrit. Now make love to my feet, my little monster. Use your tongue.” Aree flushed with pleasure to see the submissive apprehension in the female creature. The countess never tired of reminding her pet of the power Aree held over her.

Her green eye unblinking, Afrit nodded and slid down the bed to the delicately shaped feet of the noble woman and began to lick her instep. “As you will, my Countess,” she murmured. With her back to her captor, her visible eye glared with fury constrained.

Paul, Fürst Esterházy von Galantha moved excitedly into his wife’s bedchamber. He tossed his feathered hat into an empty chair. “They are enthused beyond measure!” He laughed, “The Court agrees to implement the plan immediately. And we have had some promised supplies arrive from Italy. Everything is going exactly as we planned, my rose. Emperor Leopold is pleased.”

Aree’s eyes glowed with triumph shared, “Oh, Paul. I get so excited when you are like this. You take my breath away! Make love to me. Now. Please.”

His face flushed. He moved to her as she came from her chair and put his slender hands on her shoulders. His kisses began at her mouth and traveled down her neck and into her scented bosom. He gripped her with enflamed passion. His hands quickly stole to her neckline and pulled her gown down around her breasts. The peach-colored nipples were hard and pointed.

He leaned forward and bit one.

She went up on her toes. She reveled in the forcefulness, as she knew she had created it. She had molded his mind with the strange magic of Afrit. Paul had no concept that she was the Mistress here. Her mild husband was still full of fire from the three-way sex Aree had initiated just two days ago with she, Afrit and he. Aree grew aroused at this demonstration of the creature’s power and the fact that the countess held the beast’s leash.

Aree had provided some small opportunities to test the little monster’s loyalty to the pledge of service and so far, nothing had gone awry. It seemed that the creature had intention to honor her service.

Which would last for life.

Witnessing anew Paul’s transformation into a leader of men was a bit of ancient magic that raced through Aree’s arousal like a galloping sonata. The sex was inspired. Ah, well, the sex was a just reward for all of her planning and brilliance. If the city’s siege could be lifted, if her husband became the hero of Vienna, then her own place in the order of things would be paramount.

She grew lusty with the excitement of Paul pawing at her.

“I will ravish you as if you were the Turkish Emperor’s own daughter, my rose,” he laughed into her breasts and bit the other nipple.

She was wet with her woman’s heat. She wrapped her legs around his waist and played the role, “I defy you, sir! How dare you think you can take the Emperor’s own daughter when you cannot take back the ground around your pathetic city.” She grew even more heated and wriggled her crotch against his hardened manhood.

He laughed and walked her to the bed and fell on top of her. He smothered her giggles with his mouth and started tearing her clothes off.

Afrit entered the dark room with the black drapes over the windows. Her eye adjusted to the gloom and candlelight quickly.

Paul motioned her over to his chair. “Come here.”

She moved in front of him with a silken swish of her skirts on the hardwood floor. She had sensed the disturbance in everyone about the house today. All around was written the signs of change.

“Has anyone told you yet of the Countess’s death?” his voice worked its way through hidden strain.

Her face stilled but she couldn’t stop her eyebrow from rising. “No, your Grace.” Her heart started beating faster.

He looked at her thin face in the warm yellow light. “Are you a witch, Afrit?”

She paled, “No, your Grace.” Her heart hammered in her chest. She thought then of ropes and flames and the smell of burning flesh. She remembered decades ago when hunters had pushed brush into her mountain cave and set it aflame. She stood very still.

He stood up. “My enemies have poisoned my wife. I realize now that most of my plans were hers, the fire in my blood was hers, the hopes for our city were hers and I am lost.” He paced several strides away into the dark shadows of the room, then turned and came back. With no warning he diverted to Afrit and struck her face such a ringing blow that she was knocked to the floor. She cried out when she fell.

He roared, “Vienna will die! They expect me to lead them! The plans are all in motion. The men are ready to move. Everything is ready. You were my last hope. That you might have some power, some witchery to save us all from the Turkish behemoth outside our city!” He was breathing in ragged gasps of dread. “Why was the love between the three of us so uncanny?”

She stayed down with her arms over her head. She started sobbing. How many decades had it been since she had seen one of her own people? Still trapped within the world of men, she felt there was no end to her agony.

“I always felt stronger after our lovemaking. My head was clear. Now she is gone, my lovely Aree is gone. Taken by assassins and we are all lost. The battle begins tomorrow and we are lost before we begin.” He stood over her with his hands clenching at his sides.

She forced herself to stop crying. She thought her jaw might be cracked and she licked at the blood on her mouth, “Free me and I will help you.”

He stilled. He looked down at her, “I command here. What can you do if you are not a witch after all?”

She didn’t try to look up at him. She spoke to the floor, “I am not a witch, but I can help you. I will sleep with you and you will regain your strength. You will find the clarity again. This I can do. I only ask that you free me to return to the mountains from where I was taken.”

He looked down at her. His thoughts raced. Was it Aree that had fired his blood or not Aree only? His thoughts had sharpened across the previous months. He realized it was also near the beginning of this time when his wife had allowed his own request that they have her ugly crop-haired servant join them in the bed. He had been amazed that Aree agreed and pleased when she had shown herself quite the wanton with the thin servant girl behind closed doors. It had made him feel powerful to have his wife submit to this unusual sex play. Aree’s beauty had been like the sun next to the thin Afrit.

He tried to remember when he had first thought to propose this to Aree and failed. His cock hardened even now, thinking about the two women in bed with him.

Now Afrit proposed that sex with her would be enough. How could that be? He reached down and pulled her up off the floor. She weighed next to nothing. Thin and scrawny, always anxious when others were about. She slept at the foot of Aree’s bed. Paul looked at her auburn hair, cut short so that the leather hood and harness that covered her burned face would not become tangled in long tresses.

He studied her, “Then was it you all along? I could take you right now. Why do I need your permission to fornicate with my dead wife’s servant?”

She looked up at him, “Because force will not give you what you seek. I will not help you if you do not set me free.” She sounded direct and sincere. Her language had become quite good.

“Afrit, if you can do this, then I cannot set you free. I need the power. I need that clarity. Now that I have tasted the acclaim and power, I need it. How could I send you away? I must be honest and tell you that this will not happen. The city dies if you do not help me and so you must.” He suddenly felt that his honesty to this girl was important in the face of the doom ringing in the city.

Her face fell. “Why should I? Without my freedom, I would just as soon die. I will not go back into a cage! Your wife promised me I would have my freedom when my service to her was done. Instead, now I am your prisoner and it goes on and on.”

He squeezed her arms and shook her slightly, “We will all die if you do not give me what I need.”

She wondered for a moment if there was another way. “Take off my hood. Unlock it. I do not have a key.”

She flinched as he pulled a knife, “I have no key.” He didn’t attack the collar for fear he might hurt her. He cut the harness straps until he could force the half-hood off of her head. But she wasn’t burned at all! Her eye—

—Blood. Burning. War. His manhood struck by divine power. He would succeed. He would be admired. Women’s voices calling. Pleading for his sex. He laughed. He reveled in the secrets he imagined. Thunder echoed in his blood. Whirling arousal. Shivers. Heat. Hard cock. She smelled like his first love. Like the whore he had christened at 15. He bit her neck. Sucked her flesh. Heat. His tongue exploring her. Power. He forced her down. Her thin body was arching under him. He made her scream with heat. Skin pale and sweating. City. Keep her always. War. Her legs strong and wiry around him. Ramming her. Blood thundering in his head. Filling her. Again. He was a god. His blood divine. She cleaned his manhood with her mouth like a whore. He looked down into the bloody storm. He needed—

She lay awake looking at the ceiling with his arm draped across her. She felt a strange glow in her bones. She thought she only knew how to give or take with her gift. Among her kind and for as long as she had lived the connection only pushed or pulled. Life or death. Now she had desperately tried something else, something new. To hold onto the man in a balance and read something there that would pass understanding between the two of them. Something to make him understand her need as she understood his.

She waited to see what would become of her. She didn’t know what she might have created. She feared she was the last of her kind.

She learned.

She learned of the ways of men. She learned of the Turk’s defeat, of Paul’s elevation to hero. She learned that he had been brutally honest when he said she could never leave him.

Never.

He was kind, where Aree had been lit with cruel fires. Yet he was insistent. Never.

In the meantime, he whispered of his joy and the praise he was receiving. He shared things with her. He indulged her. He let her read modern works of philosophy.

Or perhaps he was learning things, too.

He presented her with the silk eye patch that was cut like a soldier’s. He told her he would care for her as a queen. He begged her to stay with him until they were sure that Austria was safe.

She agreed, knowing that otherwise she would be a prisoner again.

She learned.

She learned. Carefully, she studied and she became stronger. She gained access to more lore; books, and speakers, published pamphlets and art. She grew quickly to a companion that Paul didn’t mind spending time with and he encouraged her to discover how to make the most of her limited beauty.

He grew fond of her and valued the gifts he gained from her secrets. He squired her about in public and she was introduced to the Emperor Leopold on the year anniversary of his victory against the Turks.

Paul solidified his position as a hero and a man for other men to follow.

She grew to love the ways that she had not understood and discovered a world she had always fled. The world of men and their works.

Knowledge became her freedom.

Paul came into her chamber. He wore no coat over his silk shirt. “What is it, my Pet?”

“It is time, Paul,” she began, “for me to move on.”

She sounded sad. He laughed, “Never.” This was something he thought was settled long ago.

“No, now actually. I could continue here as your mistress for years more, but already people see the silver in your fine hair and compare it to the lack of even wrinkles around my eyes.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Paul chuckled, “It is only the envy of others. It is only—” He saw her reach up and lift the eye patch. Lord, he tried—

—Blood. Peace. Fame. His manhood emboldened by divine power. He knew she would succeed. He would be admired. He would lose her. Other women would take her place. Pleading for his sex. He laughed. He reveled in the secrets she had shared. Thunder echoed in his blood. Whirling arousal. Shivers. Heat. Hard cock. She still smelled like his first love. Like a celestial whore. He saw her mastery. Studied her flesh. Heat. His tongue tangled hers in her mouth. Power. He forced her down. Her strong body was arching under him. He made her scream again. Again. Skin pale and sweating. City. She would leave. Fame. Her legs strong and hot around him. He acknowledged her. Blood thundering in his head. Filling her. Again. She was a goddess. His blood flamed by her needs. He said goodbye. He pretended not to love her. He worshipped her—

They were married the next day and she took the name Aree in the ceremony. He was shocked but she just laughed.

They traveled to Venice for two months and he returned without her to Vienna. Men around Paul smiled and thought they understood when he squired the younger women of Vienna while his Countess remained secluded in Venice.

He knew they were wrong.