The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“This one is still alive. He looks to be someone important, from his stuff. Maybe he might know something?”

Her hands quickly ran over my body, taking my pouch, necklaces, belt-knife, and rings. She even gave my crotch a firm squeeze, to check for gems or keys hidden in my loincloth, I supposed. Only then did she pull her throwing dagger from my left shoulder, and start to clean it off. I hurt so much none of it really mattered.

“Chief’s whelp, looks like. He was the second leader.” A second voice, also female, hard for an elf. “Won’t be alive for long, though. Gailfair, get over here!”

Footsteps approaching.

“This goblin is still alive, but dying. Heal him up, so we can ask him where the hoard is.” The second voice again, commanding.

“And if he doesn’t answer?” A third voice, softer. “We cut him nearly in half again? No, I won’t. He’ll be better off dying from his wounds.”

“You didn’t object to Rúth cutting him down when he was about to stave your head in!” The first voice again, passionate. “We didn’t have this fight just to leave with their belt pouches. Look, there’s no one else left. If he’s the chief’s son, he knows where the gold is, we will make him tell us.”

“That was fair combat. Ehlanna doesn’t heal captives so they can be tortured. We’ll find their stolen wealth on our own—or we won’t—but we won’t torture, and we certainly won’t pervert Her miracles for it.”

“I know a spell that can make him want to tell us.” A fourth voice, quiet. “I haven’t readied it, but it is in my spellbooks, at the castle. It won’t hurt him.”

“Sorcery? I don’t know... what if he resists it, and it doesn’t work? Would you torture him then?”

“No. I agree. No torture. Gúlniben’s spell, or nothing. He goes to prison or the hangman unmarked. You have our word.” The second voice again. “Celegrian?”

My life’s blood ran out on the ground for a long time of silence, and it was from somewhere far away through thick blankets of rat’s wool that I heard the first voice agree, reluctantly. “Yes, damn you, no torture, I promise. That spell had better work.”

The wool closed over everything.

I came to sitting in a chair, with ropes binding my arms and legs to its. I could see again, and the pain was gone, only the soreness from the tight ropes. I was in a white stone room, with high ceiling held up by pillars and arches, bookcases standing in rows, more books lining the walls. So this is what an elf castle looked like; this must be the library. I pulled hard at the ropes, kicked my feet, and growled when that had no effect on the ropes. Even the chair didn’t rock, it must also be stone and heavy. There was a snap of a heavy tome being closed, and the smallest elf came from between the bookcases to look at me.

“Ah, you’re awake, finally. I thought I was going to have the whole night to study. I only readied one copy.” She was the quiet voice... Gúlniben? She was dressed in a long blue robe with silver chasing, the bottom dragging the floor, voluminous sleeves, hood thrown back around her shoulders showing black hair, pale skin, green eyes, pointed ears, but otherwise rounded rather than angular features. She looked young, like a child, though I knew she was probably a hundred years old, older than my grandfather’s grandfathers.

I snarled and tried to spit at her, but my mouth was dry. I gnashed my teeth and tried to work up some saliva.

“Let’s do this thing,” she said. She reached into a sleeve, felt around for something, raised both arms in a strange gesture, waving the sleeves like wings, brought them down to point at me, and spoke in a language I didn’t know. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@.” There was a spark in her fingers, and whatever she was holding between them vanished.

She had only said it once but the words bounced around in my head. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@.” I liked her. I loved her. I would do everything she asked. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@.” I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t, I told myself, and bashed my head against the back of the chair to shut the words up. I hated her, I hated all elves, they killed our whole group, they killed my father. The words wouldn’t stop. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@.” Killing my father was doing me a favor; now I was the chief after all. I always hated him, he was a mean old bastard. If I could I would have killed him myself. I owed her. She was my best friend. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@.” I tried to scream to shut the words out, but no sound came out of my mouth, and the words didn’t get any quieter. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@.”

I remembered how nice she was; if she hadn’t volunteered to cast this nice spell, I’d be dead from bleeding, or tortured. She saved my life, I loved her. She was asking me something, and I knew I was smiling stupidly; if the words weren’t bouncing around in my head so I could hear her question, I’d answer her happily. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@.” In a moment the words would be part of me, and I’d tell her everything she wanted to know.

No. I wouldn’t. If I was the chief now, I had responsibilities. I wouldn’t be taken in by a spell from some elf cub. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@.” They’re just words, I told myself. She can say them, I can say them. They have no meaning. And I said them to myself, when they echoed—“K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@", “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@", “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@", “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@”—and they lost their meaning like words do when you repeat them many times, becoming just sounds. “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@". They lay on my mind neatly arranged, like a stack of skins and furs. My silly grin turned into an actual smile, and the stupid elf girl didn’t notice the difference. Nice elf girl, even a pretty one. Just a bit stupid. She thought she could charm a goblin chief!

I could hear her now. She repeated her question: “Tell me where your tribe is, and where is your treasure hidden? Please?”

I tried to think of something insulting to say, but didn’t quite trust my mouth—what if I tried to say something and the words she wanted to hear came out? So instead I stuck my tongue out at her and waggled it, little spit drops flying off the end. She jumped back.

“Didn’t work? I knew it.” This was the first voice, scornful. Gúlniben jumped slightly; clearly neither of us had heard the newcomer enter. Would she be Celegrian? She was a tall, lean female elf, in a tight black leather bodice, with straps holding an assortment of knives and other tools tight to her sides arms and legs. Her angular features reminded of Gúlniben’s, stretched long; maybe all elves looked alike? Her long black hair was bound in a braid down her back, and also strapped down at the end. She had made no noise when coming in the library, even though the floor was hard stone, and every one of Gúlniben’s footsteps echoed.

Gúlniben must have been used to Celegrian’s silent movement because she recovered quickly. “It will work!” she said, defensively. “I just didn’t have time to ready more copies. He got lucky. I’ll study the spell more times, and will try again tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go study. Leave me alone here. I’ll get him to talk ... my way.”

“Hmmph,” Gúlniben sniffed. “It doesn’t matter to me, but you promised Gailfair and Norda you wouldn’t torture him. I heard you.”

“I know I did. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt a hair on his hide. There’s more than one way to skin ... a goblin. Shoo.”

Gúlniben walked back through the bookcases, her heels clattering on the stone, and left carrying a thick volume, slamming the long white door behind her with extra force.

“Finally,” Celegrian said. “I thought she’d never leave us alone.”

She smiled at me, and moved closer. “Hello there, little goblin,” she purred. “Don’t be afraid. We ... I ... just want you to tell me a few things. My name is Celegrian.”

I bared my teeth and growled. She ignored that, and moved even closer, studying how I was bound to the chair.

“Your tribe, see, the remaining portion of it? Has some treasure we want. We will find it; we found you after all. It might not even take us very long, maybe Gúlniben’s spells will work and you’ll tell us tomorrow, or the day after...” She had a habit of trailing off in the middle of her sentences.

“But what would you get out of that? Just an empty feeling when the spell wears away. Wouldn’t you rather have... something nice? And a memory that lasts forever?”

She had apparently decided I was lashed securely and slid a black leather strapped leg under each arm of the chair I was tied to and lowered herself onto my lap. My head came to the level of her breasts, what little there was of them under the leather. I lunged forward and snapped, but she had judged my bonds precisely, and had leaned far enough away I could bite nothing. She didn’t twitch a muscle, or lose her smile. “Yes, I can see you’re passionate,” she said. “And strong. I like that”. She ran her fingers down my arms, and chest. It felt nice. I hated that it felt nice.

“That’s what I thought when I saw you,” she said. “You’re wild, untamed... masculine. And I’m ... lonely.” She started to slide back and forth in my lap. The leather of the straps was cool, smooth and soft on my thighs, and the skin of her legs was softer, slightly cool. “I’ve been with... our group... all women... so long now... I get so lonely. Just to touch a man. You understand? Tell me where your tribe is, and its treasure, and we can share...”

She was moving her hips in circles in my lap now, and breathing deeply. It was working, but I wouldn’t admit it to her. I wouldn’t even give her the pleasure of speaking. I just snarled. It came out less intimidating than I wanted, even a bit throaty. She smiled broader, and ran her fingers down my chest across my stomach to just above my swelling loincloth, glanced down suggestively, then returned to moving in my lap and playing with my nipples and chest hair.

“Your body disagrees,” she said. “Your resolve is strong, but you’re ... a goblin. A real man, not bound by ... less important ... things. I know. I can see. Ahh. I can feel.” She ran her pink tongue over her lips. “We both want to...”

I started to fear she was right. My resolve was flying out of my mind. Sex with an elf girl? The few elders I had talked to who claimed to have done it with elven captives said it was an unbelievable experience. Unless they were lying, of course, they had lied before. What did I owe them? If I was the chief, it was my treasure. But it wasn’t like I’d ever get to spend any of that treasure now. This could be my only chance to get anything. But then I reminded myself that all those elders were probably dead now, killed by this elf and these others.

“Fuck you in the ass!” I shouted.

She didn’t seem to be offended, just smiled. “Hmm, I see you’re thinking in the right area already ...”

“Shut up!” I yelled. She was right, I was losing control. She stroked my arms and I shivered despite myself. She was saying something else, and I didn’t want to hear it. I yelled the first thing that came to mind: “K@@ namaa l@@ k*jeram@@!”

The words of the sorceress. They didn’t mean anything, they were just something in my mind that didn’t have to do with sex, just something to stop her thinking she was winning.

Celegrian went silent and lost her smile, looking at me strangely, perfectly still. Then she eased off my lap, standing up in front of me, smiling again, but differently. She was changing tactics.

I was afraid now, but not wanting to show it. Whatever I had said had worked, but she had me completely in her power, no matter what she had told her tribe leader. For some goblins, a promise to a tribe leader lasted only as long as he was watching; were elves any different? Had I just said something unforgivable?

She undid several buckles and straps of her costume, and laid some of the belts from around her hips on the table close at hand. The tools and weapons on them looked nasty even in their scabbards. I lost all my interest in her body, and began thinking about what she was going to do to mine. But she didn’t take any tools out, just undid my loincloth and leaned forward, to where my erection was rapidly losing altitude. I was tied so tight I couldn’t move. I realized she was going to torture me where it would hurt the most, and promised myself I wouldn’t talk. I would take it like a chief. It would be a useful learning experience, I told myself. If I got out of this, maybe I would learn how to do it to others.

She opened her mouth, and took my cock into it. She was going to bite it off! But the pain didn’t come. Instead, she ran her tongue around it, and sucked gently. It felt rather nice, she wasn’t using teeth at all. Strange elven torture technique, I decided, maybe it didn’t work on goblins? She moved her head back and forth, sliding her lips around the shaft. Without my will, my cock started to grow again in her mouth. My resolution to observe lost its focus, as did much else of the room, and I leaned my head back to enjoy the experience.

I was breathing heavily as my cock swelled, almost ready to burst, when Celegrian squeezed it tightly around the base with her fingers and pulled her mouth off of it. I lost the urge to come, but stayed hard. I looked back to see she had turned around, and was coming back onto my lap, this time facing away from me. The straps she had unbuckled left her leather skirts open underneath and behind her, and I could see her pale skin, completely smooth and hairless. She kept holding my cock with one hand, spread her ass cheeks with the other, and, silently, carefully sat down aiming the head of my hard cock into her asshole. I couldn’t believe it.

As the head entered, she released the hand holding her asshole open, and held on to my arm, tied to the chair arm, and began to push up and down in small movements, getting larger as her asshole opened to my cock. She had opened it with her fingers, and it was wet inside, as if she had rubbed something in it, but it was tighter than any other ass I had been in, almost as tight as the fingers holding my cock at its base. If she had ever been fucked in the ass, it hadn’t been for a while. Or maybe it was true what they said about elf cocks being long and thin?

She was completely silent during all this, but I could see her face tight with concentration and pain. That turned me on further. I was ass-fucking a crazy elf chick who had tied me to a chair, and she was doing it like a duty. When it was in all the way, she looked back at me, gave a slight smile as if with relief, held both of my arms tied to the chair arms, and started to move up and down the whole length of the shaft. She wasn’t paying attention to how close my fangs were to her now, but, frankly, neither was I. I was sliding into and out of an elf chick’s tight, slippery ass, and was no longer concerned with anything else. For some reason she kept being silent, so I tried to be so too—maybe she didn’t want anyone to know?—but in a few strokes I couldn’t take it any more, and was gasping by excitement with each stroke. A few more, and I roared my release as I squirted into her asshole.

For a while, things were vague. I seem to remember Celegrian looked back, her smile broader, while she squeezed and released her ass muscles as I pulsed into her, to milk the cum out of my cock. Then she must have unbound me from the chair, because I was free when I came to and noticed her strapping her toolbelts back on and wiping herself. My loincloth was on me again. I was confused.

“What ... happened?” I asked her, unsteadily. She gave me a questioning look. “Tell me!” I said.

“Well... You said to fuck me in the ass, so I ... did that,” she said. “Then I thought you’d probably want to be dressed and untied from that chair, so I did that too. Now I’m cleaning myself and getting dressed.”

“No!", I said. She stopped dressing. “Why you do what I say? You think I tell you where treasure?”

She looked strange. “No... I’m not sure, but I think ... you charmed me,” she said. “Which is funny, since you don’t look like a wizard. Shaman, I guess it is for goblins. Are you?”

I ignored the question. “You do what I say?”

She thought about it. “Yes, pretty much. You also told me to shut up, and I felt I didn’t want to say anything until you told me to talk. I’ll let you go, of course...”

“Stand on your head!” I commanded.

She smiled and flipped easily, with her legs up and balancing on her head and hands. She was so limber she seemed almost comfortable in that pose.

The straps she used buckling her costume underneath were still undone, so her clothes hung down over the several belts at her waist, leaving her groin and ass bare. I walked over and ordered, “Spread legs!” She made a full split. Her pussy was naked, no pubic hair. Her asshole was still partly open from my fucking, and there were a few dried trails of semen leading down her thighs that she hadn’t wiped. I touched her pussy. It was fleshy, softer than her ass, and partly open due to her legs being spread. I pushed one finger inside. It was even softer there.

Underneath, upside down, Celegrian made a sudden gasp that turned into a humming noise. She was looking up my loincloth. “You know,” she said, “if you’re still interested... want to try fucking something besides my ass? I could let you out of the castle a couple of hours later just as easily... I guess I wasn’t lying about being lonely... though, of course the charm spell is probably helping... ”

“No,” I said. She was tempting but I had decided. I would not let an opportunity like this pass.

“Take me to your leader,” I said.