The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

In the time before Keldia and before the stars, the gods and men were as one people. We know this to be so.

Of the gods there was PAK DAI, who was known to be among the most devious of the gods. For many days, he had walked on a road of his own, working his enchantments through hearts and minds. PAK DAI had brought many an attractive woman from her home and into his growing fold. Those women spirited away were at peace, but held fast by his magical bindings.

Of men there was Yrhal, who was recognized by many as one of the most beautiful women to lay her feet on the earth. Swift on horseback, sharp with her bow, and quick of wit, she came from the people of the horse, who were present long before the people of house and hearth and walls made their settlements along the road. The people of the horse are no more now, but in this time when the skies were dark, they were numerous, and Yrhal was their champion, who sought to free them from their oppression. We know this to be so.

It came to pass one morning that Yrhal saw that the number of archers in her band had diminished. She called for Tehra, who she was close to, and who knew many things. “Friend Tehra,” said Yrhal. “How is it that I see that the number of archers in our band has diminished?”

“Friend Yrhal,” said Tehra. “I do not know this, but I know that Friend Eei did leave camp in the night and has not returned. Her horse was tethered, her supply was plentiful, and her blankets were left upon the ground.”

“It is curious,” said Yrhal, and she set herself to contemplate it during the morning hunt. We know this to be so.

And so it came to pass one afternoon that Yrhal saw that the number of riders in her band had diminished. She called for Tehra, who was close at hand, and who had been observant in these days. “Friend Tehra,” said Yrhal. “How is it that I see that the number of riders in our band has diminished?”

“Friend Yrhal,” said Tehra. “I have not seen this, but I know that Friend Kashli did leave camp in the morning and has not returned. Her horse was tethered, her supply was plentiful, and her blankets were left upon the ground.”

“It is curious,” said Yrhal, and she set herself to contemplate this too during the afternoon hunt. We know this to be so.

And so it came to pass one night that Yrhal saw that it was not merely their number of archers and riders that was decreasing, but instead their number of all women, regardless of standing, age, or skill. Yrhal looked, and saw many of the men and women in her band lamenting the vanishing of wives and daughters, and she knew then that it was the most desirable women who had disappeared. “Friend Tehra,” said Yrhal. “Why is it that the most desirable women in our band have vanished?”

But Tehra did not heed Yrhal’s calls. She was already gone away, and Yrhal searched their camp both day and night, finding only her horse tethered, her supply plentiful, and her blankets left upon the ground.

“It is curious,” said Yrhal, and it was then that she knew she could not contemplate any longer, and that something must be done. We know this to be so.

It was not until many days had passed that Yrhal could act in defense of her people. And in that time, more women continued to vanish, like droplets of blood from an open wound. For at first few were lost, and they were not lost quickly, but in time they lost one each day, two each day, three each day, and more, until their numbers were so lessened that food could scarcely be provided for those who remained.

For those who remained were mostly men now, along with Yrhal, Hanna who was the daughter of Brakha, Jola who was the wife of Morez, and Ullar who was the wife of Tehra. These four and some men rode out on the morning hunt, and it was plentiful. Yrhal returned to their camp with victory and pride in her breast, but it was only the men who had returned with her. Hanna, Jola, and Ullar had all disappeared like the rest, though now even their horses, supplies, and blankets had disappeared too.

Yrhal feared many things. She was concerned for her people, her friends and family, even the men of her band, all of whom now wept and wailed. Yrhal called to one of them from her horse. “Tell me, friend,” said Yrhal, “what has happened to Hanna, to Jola, to Ullar? We rode with them, and our hunt was plentiful, but they are no longer with us.”

And the man replied through tears and anguish. “Friend Yrhal,” said he, “I and others were with them, but we could not prevent the outcome, for it happened too quickly and we were too frightened.” It was only when Yrhal reassured him that he continued. “It was PAK DAI who came upon us, he who travels with a train of women behind his steed. Tall women, short women, slender women and large women. Hunters and sewers and workers. They were pale, dark, tan, all number of colors and complexions.”

“How have so many come into his number?” Yrhal asked.

“PAK DAI has gathered them from many lands and many bands, from people of the horse and people of the house, hearth, and walls,” said he. “PAK DAI has taken them from our people.”

“And Hanna, Jola, and Ullar?” Yrhal asked.

“Yes, those too,” said he. “PAK DAI has taken them, and in his train I saw Friend Eei, Friend Kashli, and Friend Tehra, too, all of them following PAK DAI wherever he went.”

For it was known, even to Yrhal and the men of her people, that PAK DAI could by encircling a woman’s body with his great golden chain encircle her mind with his chain as well. And any mind so encircled would drop into deep slumber, and would dream as PAK DAI told it to dream, doing as PAK DAI told it to do.

And so it was that Yrhal knew the fate of her archers, her riders, her friends among her people. And she knew that, were she to stay with her people, she would suffer the same fate. And she knew that, were she to face PAK DAI, she would suffer the same fate. But she knew of a special place, far from the road, where one of the hunting gods, NROKKA, resided. Yrhal and her people were in NROKKA’s favor, and so she set out with her horse, her supplies, and her blanket toward this place. She departed from her people, because she knew that if she stayed, it would only bring further ruin, and if she left, no one else could be taken from them. We know this to be so.

Yrhal then rode east, with only her horse and her bow and the knowledge of her tribe, all held together by her mighty determination. She rode until and through the night, until her limbs were weary and her horse was panting with exhaustion. She had no time nor patience to hunt or fish, and so ate from her meager supply. And yet, even this small meal Yrhal shared: a portion for herself, a portion for her horse, and a portion kept aside for any beast or bird that would approach when she left.

It was the same for thirteen days and as many nights, until her supply was dry, and Yrhal felt a great need to bathe herself. She tethered her horse and came to the great river Ilahregan, and there she removed her clothes, dove into the river, and cleaned her body of sweat and stain. Yrhal rose from the water after some time, kneeling on the shore to meditate, as she could not eat of the grasses like her horse nearby.

Yrhal had not realized that she was sleeping, but she knew that she was waking then. For a trout in the river, larger than any she’d seen and with scales more lustrous than any fish in the rivers, was watching her from within the water. Yrhal stepped into the river, to try and catch it in her hand, but the trout swam around her three and three times, then spoke. “Yrhal, of the people of the horse. As you have cared for the fish of the rivers, and shared with us your harvest, and never taken more than was the need of your tribe, I will guide you by the way of the rivers,” said the trout.

And even in such an old time, it was strange to hear a trout speaking, but Yrhal mastered her fear, and listened closely to the trout’s words. She did not question it, and she only answered it with her steps, leading her horse and following the trout downstream, until it vanished, and she sat to wait for guidance. We know this to be so.

Again, Yrhal had not realized that she was sleeping, but she knew that she was waking then. For a great eagle in the air, larger than any she’d seen and with feathers more colorful than any birds in the skies, was watching her from up above. The eagle dove into the stream, caught the trout in its talons, tore it apart, and then devoured it whole. The eagle flew around her three and three times, then spoke. “Yrhal, of the people of the horse. As you have cared for the birds in the sky, and shared with us your harvest, and never taken more than was the need of your tribe, I will guide you by the way of the fields,” said the eagle.

And even in such an old time, it was strange to hear an eagle speaking, but Yrhal mastered her fear, and listened closely to the eagle’s words. She did not question it, and she only answered it with her steps, leading her horse and following the eagle into the fields, until it vanished, and she sat to wait for guidance. We know this to be so.

Again, Yrhal had not realized that she was sleeping, but she knew that she was waking then. For a slender lynx of the forest, larger than any she’d seen and with a coat more glistening than any beasts of the land, was watching her from the grasses. The lynx leapt into the air, caught the eagle in its claws, tore it apart, and then devoured it whole. The lynx strode around her three and three times, then spoke. “Yrhal, of the people of the horse. As you have cared for the beasts of the land, and shared with us your harvest, and never taken more than was the need of your tribe, I will guide you by way of the forest,” said the lynx.

And even in such an old time, it was strange to hear a lynx speaking, but Yrhal mastered her fear, and listened closely to the lynx’s words. She did not question it, and she only answered it with her steps, leading her horse and following the lynx into the forest, until it vanished, and she sat to wait for guidance. We know this to be so.

And when Yrhal awoke once more, the lynx was still there, waiting, as though judging her. Yrhal threw herself at the feet of the lynx in supplication. “Oh, great lynx of the forest, who are you, that you might favor me with your guidance, I who am but a lonely wanderer of this world?” Yrhal asked.

“We are NROKKA,” said the lynx. “And we are also the eagle, who led you to the lynx, and we are also the trout, who led you to the eagle.” For though we know it now in our tales, it was not known then that NROKKA had forsaken their manlike form and taken up the appearance of the beasts of the land instead. For a man cannot fly like the eagle, or run like the deer, or tear like the wolf, or charge like the boar. We know this to be so.

NROKKA spoke, “We have long watched your people, and we grew red with rage when PAK DAI came among them and took away many of your women, but we are not a god of war and cannot make war upon one such as PAK DAI.”

“Gentle NROKKA,” said Yrhal, “I will face PAK DAI, I will do anything to free my people, and all those that he has taken.” But it was then that Yrhal paused, for though she had mastered her fear many times, she was exhausted as her horse, near to starvation, and worried at the task ahead of her. “Gentle NROKKA,” said Yrhal, “I and my horse are exhausted, near to starvation, and I worry at the task ahead of me, for I am no warrior. How can freedom be won for them, when I am but a simple huntress?”

It was NROKKA who shook their head and smiled on Yrhal. “You are of men, Yrhal,” said NROKKA. “Those of men are everything but simple. Men are three things above all: courageous, foolish, and cunning. None of these are simple things.”

And Yrhal knew that this was very wise. “It is courageous to face a powerful and fearsome foe,” said Yrhal.

“It is foolish to face such a foe when one is powerless and does not know the ways of warriors,” said NROKKA.

“And it is cunning to defeat such a foe even still,” said Yrhal.

And NROKKA smiled, for this too was very wise. “We shall lead you to PAK DAI in this form,” said NROKKA. “There, you will face him. Trust in your courageousness and your foolishness.”

“And my cunning?” Yrhal asked. “What of the trick that shall bring me to victory?”

“It would be foolish to tell you now,” said NROKKA, and Yrhal conceded this. For though courageous, foolish, and cunning, she still had fear in her breast, and could yet be swayed away from her goal, should she have heard what was to come. We know this to be so.

For three thirteens of days and three thirteens of nights Yrhal rode west, led by the lynx of NROKKA. She was bound to stop each night, for her horse needed rest, though so inspired and fearful was Yrhal that she could not, no matter how many times she attempted it. Her stomach growled each day and groaned each night, and her limbs were ever weary. But these things she endured, for it was her need now to free the women trapped by PAK DAI’s golden chain.

It was after these days and nights had passed that Yrhal knew that she had come upon the place where PAK DAI was: for in this time before the stars, little was there to illuminate the earth when night fell, yet even from miles away Yrhal could see a golden glow leading her way. When Yrhal came close enough to see, her fear and her anger rose in her gullet and she spewed bile onto the ground.

For many miles did PAK DAI’s golden chain stretch, and around many women was it affixed. The gleaming and godly chain stretched and ensnared heads, necks, wrists, breasts, hips, ankles, and calves, so that every woman in that shambling train was bound together by it. Some simply walked, some slouched forward. The shoulders of some were low with exhaustion, the breasts of some were high with pride. Some were dragged across the ground, some were made to float through the air, and they came in more shapes and colors than Yrhal had thought possible.

Yet different as those women were, they had all been encircled in the same golden chain of PAK DAI, and all eyes bore the same strange look of those who are awake and asleep at once. And though Yrhal could not peer so deeply, distracted as she was by so many faces and bodies that she knew and could name, all minds were locked in the depths of PAK DAI’s dream filled slumbering. Many different dreams were dreamed, but all of them were of servitude to PAK DAI, who Yrhal saw mounted at the head of the caravan on his black steed. We know this to be so.

It was then that Yrhal, with her fear still on her lips, turned to NROKKA, who had taken the form of a great asp. “Kindly NROKKA,” said Yrhal. “I have been led by you to PAK DAI and his great golden train, yet I am still exhausted, my horse is weary, and I still fear this task of mine for I am no great warrior.”

NROKKA shook their head at this, then spoke, “Are you courageous, Yrhal?”

“Yes,” said Yrhal.

“Then ride your steed ahead of PAK DAI’s, where he might see you by the light of his golden chain,” NROKKA replied.

Yrhal did as she was asked, for though fearful as she was her courageousness ran as deep as the forests in which she hunted and in which NROKKA dwelled. We know this to be so.

When Yrhal and her horse had approached PAK DAI, near enough to be seen by the light of his golden chain, she turned back in her saddle to observe the god. But PAK DAI was only impassive, for though his mind was filled with many acts of pleasure of a kind which no one of men had ever seen before, Yrhal had no place in those thoughts, for she was not in his favor.

Then came NROKKA, who had taken the form of a scaled lizard, and so beguiled was PAK DAI that he did not witness the coming of another god. Yrhal spoke, “I have done as you asked and been courageous: I have ridden before PAK DAI even though his golden chain could reach out and ensnare me.”

NROKKA smiled on Yrhal for this. “You have proved your courageousness and your worth, and we shall grant you a gift for this.”

And Yrhal, who knew that no gift could come into one’s hands freely, did accept this gift.

The exchange was made in parts, and NROKKA spoke, “Shoot us with your bow, Yrhal, for your skills are beyond legend in the hunt.”

Yrhal did not question the strangeness of this, for she was willing to do anything to free her people and all others from the chain of PAK DAI. But she found that she could not even nock an arrow nor pull the bowstring, nor could she recall how to hold her instrument. “All of my skill with the bow, I have given to you, NROKKA,” said Yrhal, knowing what she had done.

“Then you and your horse shall gain beauty beyond that of any other, of men or of the gods,” said NROKKA, and it was done. This is the first gift that Yrhal was given. We know this to be so.

It was then that Yrhal, in all her beauty, turned to NROKKA, who had taken the form of a great elephant. [1] “Wise NROKKA,” said Yrhal. “I have been given this gift by you, and my beauty is so great that I myself cannot keep from admiring it, but I still fear this task of mine for I am no great warrior.”

NROKKA shook their head at this, then spoke, “Are you foolish, Yrhal?”

“Yes,” said Yrhal.

“Then display your beauty ahead of PAK DAI, where he might admire you by the light of his golden chain,” NROKKA replied.

Yrhal did as she was asked, for though fearful as she was her foolishness flew as wide as the fields in which she hunted and in which NROKKA dwelled. We know this to be so.

When Yrhal and her horse had drawn closer to PAK DAI, near enough to be admired by the light of his golden chain, she turned back in her saddle to observe the god. For now in all her beauty, her cheeks were red with lust and rage, her eyes were sparkling with hunger and tears, and her body moved so enticingly on her steed, for now she was naked and could be seen and admired. But PAK DAI was only intrigued, for though his mind was filled with many acts of pleasure of a kind which no one of men had ever seen before, Yrhal had but one place in those thoughts, for she was not in his favor.

Then came NROKKA, who had taken the form of a mighty bear, and so beguiled was PAK DAI that he did not witness the coming of another god. Yrhal spoke, “I have done as you asked and been foolish: I have ridden closer to PAK DAI even though his golden chain could reach out and ensnare me, and I have aroused his interest.”

NROKKA smiled on Yrhal for this. “You have proved your foolishness and your worth, and we shall grant you a gift for this.”

And Yrhal, who knew that no gift could come into one’s hands freely, did accept this gift.

The exchange was made in parts, and NROKKA spoke, “Find us with your eyes, Yrhal, for your knowledge is beyond legend in the hunt.”

Yrhal did not question the strangeness of this, for she was willing to do anything to free her people and all others from the chain of PAK DAI. But she found that she could not even spy a track nor see the animal, nor could she recall how to listen for a breath. “All of my knowledge of the hunt, I have given to you, NROKKA,” said Yrhal, knowing what she had done.

“Then you and your horse shall gain speed beyond that of any other, of men or of the gods,” said NROKKA, and it was done. This is the second gift that Yrhal was given. We know this to be so.

It was then that Yrhal, in all her speed, turned to NROKKA, who had taken the form of a powerful lion. [2] “Noble NROKKA,” said Yrhal. “I have been given this gift by you, and my speed is so great that I myself can scarcely keep up with it, but I still fear this task of mine for I am no great warrior.”

NROKKA shook their head at this, then spoke, “Are you cunning, Yrhal?”

“Yes,” said Yrhal.

“Then display your speed ahead of PAK DAI, where he might chase you by the light of his golden chain,” NROKKA replied.

Yrhal did as she was asked, for though fearful as she was her cunningness swam as long as the rivers in which she hunted and in which NROKKA dwelled. We know this to be so.

When Yrhal and her horse had sped ahead of PAK DAI, still near enough to be seen by the light of his golden chain, she turned back in her saddle to observe the god. For now in all her speed, her horse was swifter than any animal, its strides were able to leap whole rivers, and her body shook so enticingly on her steed, for she was still naked then and could not stifle her own tremors. And PAK DAI was aroused, spurring his steed, for his mind was filled with many acts of pleasure of a kind which no one of men had ever seen before, and Yrhal was within those thoughts, for she was now in his favor.

Then came NROKKA, who had taken the form of a graceful deer, and so beguiled was PAK DAI that he did not witness the coming of another god. Yrhal spoke, “I have done as you asked and been cunning: I have ridden farther from PAK DAI even though his golden chain could reach out and ensnare me, and I have aroused him to chase me.”

NROKKA smiled on Yrhal for this. “You have proved your cunningness and your worth, and we shall grant you a gift for this.”

And Yrhal, who knew that no gift could come into one’s hands freely, did accept this gift.

The exchange was made in parts, and NROKKA spoke, “Tell us of your tribe and people, Yrhal, for your ties to them are beyond age and time in the hunt.”

Yrhal did not question the strangeness of this, for she was willing to do anything to free her people and all others from the chain of PAK DAI. But she found that she could not even name a friend nor describe a family member, nor could she recall why she had left them. “All of my history in my tribe, I have given to you, NROKKA,” said Yrhal, knowing what she had done.

“Then you and your horse shall gain stamina beyond that of any other, of men or of the gods,” said NROKKA, and it was done. This is the final gift that Yrhal was given. We know this to be so.

It was then that Yrhal, with all her stamina, turned to NROKKA, who had taken the form of a squeaking mouse. “Fair NROKKA,” said Yrhal. “I have been given this gift by you, and my stamina is so great that I myself do not think I could ever tire, but I still fear this task of mine for I am no great warrior.”

NROKKA shook their head at this, then spoke, “Are you of men, Yrhal?”

“Yes,” said Yrhal.

“Then ride in reverse, displaying your beauty to PAK DAI, and trust in the nature of the beast that you ride and the men who you fight for,” said NROKKA.

Yrhal did as she was asked, for now with little knowledge beside that of herself, her beast, and her fellow men, she could find no room for fear in her breast, and felt only her humanity. She turned back in her saddle, not just to observe PAK DAI, but to beckon him, to tease and seduce him, to stir in him his legendary lust.

And PAK DAI was enticed, spurring his steed, swinging his great golden chain overhead, and though full was his mind of pleasure-filled acts, even those were dwarfed by his thoughts of Yrhal’s beauty, speed, and stamina, her body and her face, her voice and her eyes. PAK DAI swung his chain in a wide and frenzied arc, whipping it madly until he saw it close about Yrhal’s neck.

But though Yrhal was pulled into dream filled slumbering, her steed rode on, faster and longer in stride and threatening to break PAK DAI’s chain. PAK DAI cursed, for his chain was so bound around his train of many women that he was sure to lose his grip on the beautiful Yrhal. He then released three of the slowest, so that he could ride faster and chase after Yrhal.

But Yrhal’s horse still rode on, even faster and even longer in stride and threatening to break PAK DAI’s chain again. PAK DAI cursed, for his chain was still so bound around his train of many women that he was sure to lose his grip on the beautiful Yrhal. He then released thirteen of the slowest, so that he could ride even faster and chase after Yrhal.

And so it was again, but with thirty women.

And so it was again, but with thirty thirteens of women.

And so it was again, and so fast was Yrhal’s horse that PAK DAI released all of the women who remained in his train, but he still could not catch her steed, locked as his chain was around Yrhal’s neck. And with no women remaining in his band, Yrhal was foremost in PAK DAI’s favor, and he continued to chase Yrhal and her steed across the land for all their days. And just as her horse never tired of serving her with beauty, speed, and stamina, Yrhal never tired of the dreams in which she lived in her sleep, and still lives today, as their two stars chase each other in the skies above. We know this to be so.

And when that time ended, and the time of Keldia and the stars began, the gods and men were as one people no longer. PAK DAI and the gods left the world of men, and Yrhal and the men foremost in their favor took their places in the stars above. We know this to be so.