The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lady Elaine waited in the cold cell, the bare shift she wore providing only minor relief. A glance out her cell window revealed the same odd sky of shifting colors and bare rock that hadn’t changed in the last few hours since she had awoken in the cell.

Where she was, she had no idea. Merely that she was out with her patrol of knights as usual, covering the frontier between her own kingdom of Highland and the neighboring barbarian kingdoms known collectively as the Savage Territories.

Shouting and pounding on the bars had produced no answer, and the cell itself had given her no clue as to the identity of her captor or current location. A bed that was bolted to the wall, two sheets and a thin pillow, a water basin and a drain, and a mirror mounted against one wall.

Of her companions, she also knew nothing. Were they alive, dead, captured like herself, or were they out looking for her even now?

Using the sheets, if she were able to fit out the bars in the window—she would be able to lower herself to the ground and escape.

She had already pitted her strength against the bars on the windows and those of her cell door. Though well over forty years age now, and her statuesque beauty had faded with time, she was hardly weak. As one of the glorious Silver Knights and the one who had been called the Silver Maiden once, she had strength honed through countless hours of battle and practice. The iron and stone of her prison hadn’t budged in response to that strength.

She had even attempted to smash the mirror, as a long shard of glass was at least better than no weapon at all. No punch or kick had marred its surface, save for where the oils of her skin and flecks of blood from her own hands had left indication of her efforts.

The dim light was broken by a golden glow as someone approached. Elaine perked up at this. At last she would have answers.

The one who made his way to the corridor outside her cell was tall but young and slender. Perhaps just passing the twenty year mark. Had she ever deigned to drop the “Maiden” from her title, she might have had a boy this age. She at first thought this might be a minor minion or functionary. His apparent amusement disabused her of that notion, as did the ball of witchfire that he caused to hang upon the air. A glowing ball of light without apparent substance. Some kind of wizard then.

There were four kinds of wizards that the Lady Elaine could name. There were the evil sorts that tended to consort with demons and zombies and the like. There were the White Wizards who could heal or use protective spells and the like only. There were the Tower Wizards who spent all their time studying and experimenting and could care less about the world outside their tower. Finally there were the Elven Wizards like her old friend Jorrica. Each died when you ran them through with a sword, so there was little difference in that end of things.

“Whoever you are, boy, you have made a fatal mistake. Free me, and I’ll at least make sure your death is swift and painless.”

The boy actually looked amused at her statement. “I see that negotiations are still not your specialty. Right, Elaine?”

Elaine let out a little hiss of breath. So the boy knew exactly what he had here. “My companions will seek you out. My old friends from my days of adventuring will hear of my disappearance and come looking. You cannot hope to succeed in whatever you have planned.”

“Neither is the problem you think it is, Silver Maiden of the Highlands.” The boy considered her silently for a moment. “You do not remember me, do you?”

Elaine looked over the boy more carefully. Nothing rang any sort of bell. “No. Should I?”

The boy frowned and cocked his head slightly. “I had hopes. Ah well.”

Elaine considered the boy some more but still had no idea. “So we’ve met and I don’t remember the occasion. Clearly you know me. Is this revenge then?”

“You might see it as such,” agreed the boy. “Do you remember the fort town of Armistice?”

Elaine involuntarily winced at that .

“I see you do,” observed the boy. “Look out the window.”

Elaine did and her eyes widened. There it was in full detail, just as she remembered it. The bright colors and festive decorations, the milling throng of merchants and customers, the music from nearby buskers. There she was, as she was twenty years previous, at the head of the Silver Knights and meeting with the town’s mayor.

“Do you recall all the details, Lady? How this poverty-stricken little hamlet was told they had to fend for themselves by the Lord overseeing this region, a small village with no resources of their own—left over from a border dispute fifty years prior? How this dirt farmer of little talent and eager means turned a starving town into an international trade zone? How he’ d even socked away tithes and tariffs to pay off Lord Dunscott when the time came?”

“I... remember.” Lady Elaine admitted, her mouth downturned.

“Do you remember what happened after you hauled the ‘upstart’ in front of the Council? What did they do to poor old Nagil?” The wizard sounded slightly less amused but still fairly neutral.

“He was executed for treason. Lord Dunscott’s son was appointed to oversee Armistice,” said Elaine, having a bad taste in her mouth. “You’re too young to be one of Nagil’s men or supporters. I also remember the protests and the calls from the village—to free their mayor. A very personable and popular traitor.”

“Traitor? No. He’d betrayed no one.” The wizard tsked. “Aris Dunscott managed to reverse the fortunes of the town, seized maidens and property and generally lived it up for two years before returning home to his father. Do you know what Armistice looks like now?”

“No,” admitted Elaine. “I followed orders from the Council. Protecting the lands was my duty.”

“So it was,” admitted the wizard. “This is how Armistice looks today.”

Elaine didn’t want to see but it was shown anyway. Gone were the banners and colors. Brickwork had crumbled and fallen unattended. Streets were choked with rubble. Wooden buildings had collapsed. Ghost lights, those will o wisps that marked souls that had died in such turmoil they could not pass on, floated among the ruins.

“Those who stayed died. Aris managed to capture and rape a young lady of one of the barbarian tribes who hadn’t heard about the new management. The barbarians would not cross the border thereafter, but they were quite upset.” The wizard looked her over. “Do you remember this little escapade, Lady?”

The image changed to become a castle hall, the common room. A feast was in progress. Lady Elaine recognized herself and her companions of that time. “Yes. That is Lord Efram’s castle. There’s Jorrica and Sylarra, the elven mage and the archer who were my companions for several years. We had just slain a dragon rampaging through the countryside.”

“Hmmm. And you remarked on the size of the omelets being served, didn’t you?” The wizard sounded mock-thoughtful.

“What are you getting at?” The Lady said as the scene changed again, showing one of the serving maids taking away large shards of shell.

“Just that any mother might find herself somewhat upset on having her children stolen away and made into a feast.” The wizard pointed out. “Note the leathery shell.”

“Is there a point to this, wizard?” Elaine was made of stern stuff, she wouldn’t let this wizard have any satisfaction when it came to such displays.

“Simply this,” said the wizard. “You were once hailed by the people as their protector, the ‘Silver Maiden’ who took command of the Silver Knights and rode off for glory and honor. They lined the boulevards to throw flower petals and catch a glimpse of you.”

“Something that I never wanted nor enjoyed,” pointed out Elaine. “I have never sought the mantle of hero.”

“No, you merely fit the image and thought of yourself as a hero, measuring yourself against the mark that your father had left behind.” The wizard leaned against a wall and regarded his captive briefly. “Do you at least remember the slaughter of the border village? The Riverfolk?”

Elaine turned her eyes from the window. She had seen that image enough in her memory that she didn’t need to see it anew.

“Twelve knights had been pinned by barbarians when they strayed into their territory,” said the wizard. “You came up with the idea of burning their village, causing them to give up the fight and return to save it. A clever strategy. So why did you kill the women and children?”

“We...” Elaine swallowed. As captain of the knights, it was her duty to be responsible for her subordinates. “We hadn’t set out with that intent.”

“When the Riverfolk returned, they found their homes burning, their children cut down, their women slaughtered as if animals.” The wizard eyed Elaine as she came closer to the bars. “How did you think they would react?”

Elaine leapt then, her arm stretching out to grab this enemy and silence him forever. The wizard stood, apparently unconcerned, as her fingers stopped a full two feet from him.

Instead the wizard gestured and lights began to move down the corridor.

Now Elaine was alarmed. Ghostlights. Hundreds of them. One a fiery red that reminded her of the dragon.

“These are all those you have wronged so badly that they cannot pass to the next plane, Lady. Let me remind you that you were once a celebrated hero, but now you have grown older and they no longer call you the ‘Silver Maiden’ do they? Nor do they throw flowers at your passing.”

Elaine drew back away from the bars. She could feel their hunger and frustration at not being able to reach her. “What?”

“You are the Silver Butcher now. They are grateful you’re on their side, but as your beauty has faded so have the rumors grown in strength. Your past has caught up with you, Lady.” The wizard sighed. “Sad that you don’t remember Torim the Conjurer.”

“Torim? Torim? Tor—” Elaine’s eyes widened as the name suddenly fit into place. “The child apprentice of that pet mage of Nagel! You!”

A mocking half bow from the youth. “Lady Elaine. Who set out to walk the path of a hero and became the champion of a brutal and repressive regime. If I were to open your cell door, how long do you think you’d last?”

“I’m listening, wizard.”

Torim nodded. “As far as your kingdom is concerned you are dead. I sent a simulacrum on your horse back with your equipment. Your horse stumbled on the Bear’s Claw Bridge, and over the rail you went in full view of your men. They found your equipment, mostly, but you know how fierce the river is there.”

Elaine let out a breath. So much for rescue. If this wizard had the resources to produce a simulacrum, and judging by the odd sky he may well do so, then he had covered his tracks.

“I offer... something other than death.” Torim made a beckoning gesture.

The girl that entered was dressed in a serving girl’s costume, and the only reason Elaine looked twice at her were the ears. Elves generally did not become the servants of human wizards, even associating with humans was a rare thing.

The serving girl was beautiful, that was for certain. She had that delicate-yet-timeless look that almost all the elves she knew possessed. It was also rare for elves to have any sort of eye problem, yet this one wore glasses that framed her long elf eyes quite well. The girl remained in the shadows where Elaine could see just enough of her to make basic determinations but not see her face clearly.

The wizard picked a large cup off the tray and set it outside the bars but within Elaine’s reach, if she dared the ghostlights. “It’s quite simple. Lady Elaine, former Captain of the Silver Knights, has run her course. In your day, you made quite the impression, but I think you’ve realized how much of the time that you merely were the pawn of the Council. And the Highlands Council hasn’t had the good of their own people as a priority for over fifty years.”

“A forgetfulness draught?” Elaine was not an idiot and could see where this was going. “You want me to forget being Lady Elaine and perhaps gain another serving-girl for your tower here?”

“I could use another girl or two around the place,” admitted the wizard. “Golems and automatons lack certain qualities that make for good help.”

“I am and remain Lady Elaine. My duty is to the Highlands and I am sworn to obey the Council. I refuse.”

“A pity,” said the Wizard. “First. A look at what I offer before I leave you to contemplate your decision.”

Elaine felt a sensation of heat pass over her but it left her alone. Again she was impressed. Jorrica had been a fairly powerful elven sorceress and she had only been able to cast the most low powered of spells without time and preparation. There had been definite power in that casual wave of heat, but this Torim hadn’t made a move to indicate a spell being cast.

Checking herself, Elaine stopped and stared at her hands. The wrinkles and scars common for a woman of her age were gone, leaving supple soft skin save for the lines of callous that came from sword practice. She looked into the mirror and couldn’t suppress a gasp. There was Lady Elaine all right, but without the crow’s feet and wrinkles that had begun marring her face. It was the face and the hands of the Lady Elaine who had ridden into Armistice, the youngest Captain of the Silver Knights at age 20.

Elaine considered using her strength to rip the bars from the window, but where to go afterwards even if she could manage it? That sky was not the sky of her homeland.

Torim sat back on his chair, which wasn’t nearly ostentatious enough to be called a throne. No, it was a simple overstuffed chair that was exceedingly comfortable. Visible in the crystal ball was the Lady in her cell.

She was as she had been that day, lacking only her silvered plate armor and her horse. Her features were quite aristocratic—she had been the child of a highly placed knight and had grown in that environment. Tall and strong, yet in a slender athletic way. Her breasts, not hidden completely by her shift, were small but firm mounds. Taut waist, wide hips, and her legs. It was a shame if not a crime to have bulky armor cover those legs.

Her hair a silken waterfall that while unbound would hang down past her shoulders. That day, so long ago, she had worn her hair pinned in such a way that her helmet could be quickly donned over it. How unflattering.

This was the Lady Elaine that had been welcomed into Armistice as a hero. Riding on her white horse, the Silver Maiden accompanied by the Jade Sorceress and the Golden Arrow, the Swordsman of Flame and the Raging Axeman. Heroes of Highland, the Silver Knights.

He had just been a bare youth, fresh to his apprenticeship then. The sight of the regal and beautiful knight as she rode forward, the mayor who had brought such prosperity waiting to meet her and direct her to the funds they had saved to go back to the Council. Followed by the noble warrior arresting the mayor for high treason and hauling him off to be executed.

Torim had spent years haunted by that vision. That the noble heroes had feet of clay and were actually the puppets of the Highland Council. Their quests and “heroic acts” hadn’t withstood examination. Oh, they had actually slain a few bandits and the occasional monster. Most of the time they fought peasants with little in the way of actual combat skills.

He had helped the rumors along as time went on. The beautiful Silver Maiden’ s image was tarnished and she began to age poorly. Worry lines, crow’s feet, and gray in her hair—all contributed to the image of a hero who had outlived her usefulness.

Now the time had come to reclaim that image, that vision, that lady.

This realm was an odd one, a pocket universe that he had found. So long as he was in it—his will was all. He was a god of a world barely ten miles across. It was also a prison, for once one had become the god of this pocket world—you couldn’t leave.

You could recruit agents however, and that was what he had done. Now those agents had delivered the aged Knight to him.

First he had restored her youth. Now it was time for the game.

To be sure—he could have simply waved his hand and turned her into his panting love-slave. That wouldn’t have been very satisfying, but would have provided immediate gratification in another area. Having her choose that life for herself would be far more gratifying.

In this realm, day or night had no meaning. So the Lady would spend long hours in her cell, with the wraiths of those who died wrongfully at her hands watching and waiting.

Torim smiled and turned his attention to the maids. He had other duties to attend. Let the Lady wait for him.

Lady Elaine sat in her cell and tried to ignore the wraiths.

If she looked, she could see ghostly faces peering at her from within the lights. People who had died at her hands, or at the hands of those under her command. People who demanded vengeance or justice.

Their blood was on her hands. She had forced herself to ignore it for years. She’d known on some level that she’d been used by the Council, again and again and again, off on the agenda of some soulless merchant or another—their tool. She was the Silver Maiden in her gleaming armor, after all, a rallying point for the people—a hero for them to fasten on.

When her looks had begun their inevitable decline, she’d found herself less welcome in the capital. More often she was sent off on missions far abroad, where word of her victories could be brought home without the inconvenience of an aging hero in her middle years.

Her popularity, even though it was unsought in the first place, had begun its decline. One could only remain a “Maiden” for so many years without rumors. When she’d been younger, those rumors had linked her to one or another of the Knights. Sometimes to foreign princes or generals. None had had a basis in fact, and the Knights had often shared a laugh about the more ludicrous ones. As she’d gotten older, those rumors had turned more cruel. One rumor had caused her much trouble, and that was that she was seeking a warrior who could defeat her in battle to rescue her from spinsterhood.

She’d had to put up with farmers and blacksmiths trying to defeat her, foreign knights, even a few wandering princes who sought her out. Eventually though, that rumor had been replaced with even worse ones. She didn’t choose a man because she secretly hated them. She was linked to evil witches and beasts. One rumor, that she’d sought out the source to squash personally, had her taking up with her horse.

In her prison, Elaine wondered if this incarceration was itself justice. Were the spirits of Jorrica and Sylarra among those lights? Two elven companions that had stood with her against menaces aplenty. Was it really only five years ago that the word had come across that they were to be arrested as relations with the Elven Kingdom had soured? That the two had resisted arrest and had fought back and fled into the night rather than stand trial before the Council, though the rift had been growing between them and the other Knights long before that.

She’d pursued with the other Knights. The two had been backed up to one of the chasms that marked the Broken Plains, cornered and facing the drawn steel. Then the edge had crumbled and two that she’d have faced the Lord Of Nightmares along their side had fallen into the darkness below.

Was this her fate as a hero?

Elaine touched the cool metal of the cup with her fingers. She was tempted to throw the contents out into the corridor and rid herself of the temptation. Instead, muttering a prayer that she be forgiven for her sins, she drank.

Torim sat back in his chair as the elf’s head bobbed up and down in his lap. His only clue that something had changed was when the elf slowed and stopped her cleaning.

There in the doorway, looking puzzled but joyous, was Elaine.

Torim smiled and beckoned his newest maid to approach. She was joined by the two others soon.

Lady Elaine, the Silver Maiden. Now the Silver Maid.

Jorrica the Jade Sorceress. Now his chambermaid and assistant.

Sylarra the Golden Arrow. Another elf, and a devoted servant and lover.

Three heroes who had retired from legend. Torim made a gesture that the three gleefully interpreted, and Jorrica resumed her service to bring him back to hardness and the slaking of his and her own carnal desires.

Later he would take the aristocratic Elaine and make her his completely, as he had done with the other two.

Then in a few days he would send them off to bring back others.

Why not collect the whole set?