The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

‘Seed’

(mc, f/f, m/f, nc)

DISCLAIMER: This material is for adults only; it contains explicit sexual imagery and non-consensual relationships. If you are offended by this type of material or you are under legal age in your area, do NOT continue.

* * *

‘Seed’

Part Five

There was a rapping at the door.

Eyna laid aside the shirt she was mending. “Come,” she said.

Princess stuck her head into the room. “It’s five bells, and... what’s she doing here?” she asked, spotting the motionless Esmerill lying on the bed.

“Resting,” Eyna replied. “You know what the slave quarters are like.”

“Well, wake her up. She’s on rotation tonight and we open doors in half an hour.”

“Princess,” Eyna said, standing up, “could she be off tonight? I’ll do her shift, if you need someone, but—”

“’Do her shift’ like fuck you will,” Princess replied. “You’re on tonight, too, fancy pants, and Tremora’s expecting your coin. No, get her up, we need her twat in service.”

“But... Princess, Coris was a friend of hers, and she’s been up all the nights since the disappearance, and... well, we don’t want her to run off as well, do we? Please, can she not be in rotation tonight? She needs this sleep, her body needs it. I could... I’ll owe you a favor. Or maybe, could I cover her earnings with my coin?”

“You’re a slave, you haven’t any coin that’s yours to dispose of.” Princess sighed. “But all right. I’ll take her off rotation and sub someone else in—this once, don’t you fucking get any ideas about fucking around with my schedule. And you owe me. A big favor, not just fetching my fucking soup.”

“Oh, thank you, Princess,” Eyna said, prancing to the doorway and putting a kiss on Princess’ hand.

“Why the fuck do you care, anyway?” Princess asked. Then her eyes widened, and she grinned. “Ohhh, I see. The cunt-licker has been cunt-licking, has she? Teaching you a few tricks about what girls get up to in bed?”

“No, I- well, yes, but—”

Princess laughed. “All these men wrapped around your finger, and now you’ve gone soft for a she-lover. Eyna, you are the daftest whore I think I’ve ever met. All right, your lover girl will get her rest tonight—but not here, you are still on and there’s no way out of that. Not with your suitor list.”

“Of course, Princess,” Eyna said. “Maybe if Aric could carry her to her room?”

Princess nodded. “I’ll tell him. You get ready, I’m sending the first one up to fuck you in twenty minutes.”

* * *

“How many plantations are there?” Eyna asked.

The factor inhaled deeply. The long-stemmed pipe he pulled on glowed red; then he exhaled a long stream of smoke out the open window.

He sat nude in the chair, his cock still shining with her juices. Eyna was nude as well, lying on the bed, turned artfully on her side.

“Well,” he rumbled, “I suppose it depends on what you’d call a ‘plantation’. It has tax ramifications you know.” He stroked the ends of his long moustaches, and took another pull on his pipe.

“But if what you’re asking is the simple number of enfeoffed holdings out here, it’s probably something like eight hundred. Lord Feyne holds the entire valley from his father, of course, who was granted it by the King. And he’s got an eye to profit, young Feyne does, yes he does.” He nodded sagely. “He’s not just granting ells hurry-burry to his cronies, with no thought to what he’s granted before. Ach, the way that Lord Kennerit granted out his new demesne, after the Quinyrian conquest—oh, the lawyers fought over that for years! Why I recall... hrm. No, where was I?”

“Lord Feyne,” Eyna prompted, turning on the bed.

“Mmm, yes,” he replied, his eyes on her backside. “Well. To get any sort of grant, you have to provide a prospectus! Yes, like a proper organized venture! You have to specify what you’ll be growing, what coin you bring to the enterprise, and projections of your output, your need for slaves, the markets you could sell to... hrm.” He took another pull on his pipe.

“It sounds like one must be ever so smart,” Eyna breathed, “to know those things!”

“Hrm, well, yes,” the factor agreed. “Although generally the minor aristocracy that Feyne invites in will hire smart men to do the work for them. I myself represent no fewer than fourteen minor houses, who have entrusted me with their monies and their interests. Not many of them want to come live in the swamp! Ha! But,” he added, waggling a finger, “having a good man, here on location, that’s the only way to be sure of the operation. Running a venture by letter, from Gildor City, that’s a good way to lose all one’s money, one inflated swindle at a time. Yes, yes, a good factor—on the spot—is the only way to go...”

“Such good fortune, these nobles have, with a man such as you to safeguard their interests.”

“Indeed! A most perspicacious wench you are, my dear. Mm. What was? Ah yes, the plantations. Well, as I say, there are about eight hundred, none below seven thousand ells in square. About twenty are truly large, such as my own steading at Torr Ewit. Eighty-eight slaves, I have, and fifteen freemen with their families.”

Eyna flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Such a successful man,” she breathed, and made a small smile. “Tremona should charge you more.”

He laughed, and knocked his pipe out on the windowsill. “She could,” he said, approaching the bed again, “if she could negotiate for shit...”

* * *

Esmerill’s shoulder twitched. Then, her arm.

Her lips twitched open.

“Khuluub...” she breathed.

Then she opened her eyes.

A look of confusion passed over her face as her eyes rolled around and took in the tiny, curtained alcove that was her sleeping place. Then she spied Eyna, sitting at the foot of the straw-filled sack that was Esmerill’s bed.

Esmerill sat up, eyes wide. “I saw her—”

Eyna put a finger atop Esmerill’s lips. “Sh, sh. I know.”

She let the finger linger a moment, then slid it away.

“I saw her,” Esmerill repeated in a quiet voice. “She told me... things...” She shook her head. “I will obey her. I want to be hers!”

Eyna nodded. “You shall be. We shall all belong to Khuluub.”

“Yes,” Esmerill agreed eagerly. “We shall all belong to her. We will all be her slaves.”

Eyna smiled. “Just so. But now I need you to listen to me. Can you focus?”

The dark curls bobbed as Esmerill nodded.

“Good. I have to leave now. Mistress’ plan hastens on, and my part calls me away from here. You will enact our Mistress’ will in my absence. Yes?”

“Oh, yes,” Esmerill hissed. “I will obey her. But... how will I know what she wants me to do?”

“She will tell you in dreams,” Eyna replied. “Do not worry. You will know what you are to do. What I need you to do is to nurture my plant. Take it from my room and keep it safe. When it is discovered that I am gone, Tremona will be angry. Be sure that my plant is safe before then.”

“Yes, Eyna,” Esmerill said. “It will be done.”

“Good.”

Eyna leaned forward onto her hands and knees. She crawled over Esmerill’s body, until the two were face to face.

“When I return,” Eyna breathed, “Your reward will be great.”

She slipped forward another inch, and their mouths met. Esmerill moaned around Eyna’s tongue.

Eyna’s hand reached downward and alit on Esmerill’s thigh, just above her knee. As she licked the surface of Esmerill’s tongue, stroking and swirling, she slid her hand upward, catching the bottom of Esmerill’s shift, sliding it up her smooth thigh.

Esmerill’s eyes opened, looking into Eyna’s own, probing them for... something.

Eyna pulled away from Esmerill’s mouth, moving her own to the dark-haired girl’s neck, kissing, mouthing, pulling softly at her skin. Her hand had drawn Esmerill’s shift up to her crotch; Eyna’s wrist turned and she slid the cloth further, up over the hard bumps of her hipbones, to where hips curved inward to become waist.

A hand pressed down on Eyna’s own. She looked up into Esmerill’s eyes.

Esmerill looked at her, looked into her. Then, moving Eyna’s hand aside, she took hold of her shift and lifted it, pulled it up over her breasts and then off over her head, leaving herself naked on the bed.

“To her,” Esmerill whispered. “And to you.”

Eyna smiled, and bent her head to suckle at one already hard nipple. Esmerill gave the tiniest of moans. Eyna kissed her way lower, ribcage, belly, stopping to lick each hipbone.

She gently drew her face across Esmerill’s close-shaved mons, enjoying the scratch of the hair, and then blew warm breath across Esmerill’s sex, eliciting another tiny moan. Eyna looked up with wicked eyes, and put her mouth to it.

She had never pleasured a woman, and Khuluub had not filled her mind with this, but she knew what she liked and she rapidly learned what Esmerill liked, changing her tempo, her stroke, the suction of her mouth. It was... fun, erotic and enjoyable, and when Esmerill came, biting her lower lip and making the softest of grunts, Eyna was reluctant to stop.

But Esmerill sat up, breasts and stomach glistening with sweat, and looked at her with glittering eyes. “Me,” she gasped, “please, me.” She plucked at Eyna’s shirt, so Eyna lifted it and hastily pulled off her pants and undergarb.

As Esmerill lifted her leg and began to kiss downward from her inner calf, Eyna lay back blissfully. In her mind, her skin flushed red, and the ring-haired slave between her legs looked up smiling as she serviced great Khuluub.

* * *

Eyna stepped from the front door of the Red Sail in traveling clothes; her tall boots and cowhide pants, a linen shirt beneath one of rough cotton, a broad-brimmed hat atop her hair. She carried only a small pack, for a slave of Khuluub could trust in the jungle to provide food and shelter both.

A hand wrapped around her upper arm.

“Where in the six Hells do you think you are you going?”

Eyna turned to smile at the beefy new bouncer. “Hello, Durgan! I’m going out picking flowers,” she said brightly. “Tremona wants the salon to look nice, and there are good flowers at the jungle’s edge.”

“Hrm,” he said, looking down at her with an unsympathetic eye. Then he shrugged and let her go.

“Awright. No where for you to run off to out there anywhat.”

She smiled at him and set off down the muddy street. A few minutes later she was repeating the same story to the guards at one of the gates, who were much less interested than the bouncer had been.

“Don’t get eaten by a jungle cat,” one said, leaning on his spear. “We’re not running over there to save you.”

Eyna just smiled at them, too.

She walked across the muddy clearing outside the palisade. An elderly couple were working to set up a garden area, a small square of flat and ordered earth surrounded by a sea of chop and muck. Eyna waved to them. Perhaps Khuluub would help them, when she controlled all.

Or perhaps she would have them become fertilizer for the plants that Khuluub preferred instead. It did not matter.

At the jungle’s edge, Eyna paused to inhale deeply. The scents of the jungle washed over her, and the sounds, and her blood stirred. Then she stepped into the shadows.

It took many hours to reach Khuluub’s buried temple, with Eyna’s anticipation growing the while. She did not know why Khuluub wanted her to come to her secret garden, only that she did—and to understand Khuluub’s desire was to obey.

The fissure beneath the roots of a massive tree remained as it had been when Eyna emerged from it these many months ago. Carefully, Eyna climbed down among the roots until she stood on paved floor.

She paused to light the torch which she had brought with her. From here, she could proceed to Khuluub without light, but she wanted to see the halls that she was passing through. Vanity, perhaps, but a small one.

As the torch flared up, the figures surrounding her flickered into view.

It was a battle, an army. The great tree’s roots had broken and cracked the walls, and the floors were covered with a litter of fallen tesserae, yet enough remained that Eyna could see the figures locked in eternal struggle, spears against shields, banners flying in frozen wind. Who they were, she could not tell; then she saw the roots, the vines, breaking from the ground to tangle and pierce. The blood of the enemies glittered red as she held her torch near.

At the center of the image there was a personal battle, a melee of two oversized figures, but a tree root had broken from the wall and Eyna could make out nothing of them beyond their boots and the ends of their weapons. A fitting irony, she thought, that the vines had claimed these warriors even in their final depiction.

She must not keep her Mistress waiting. Eyna hurried from the room, passing down long halls and up and down stairs. Many of the rooms were broken and filled with dirt, many were not, and all were decorated with carvings, mosaics, statuary.

Silently, Eyna mourned the loss of mighty Kaz Ghuul.

As she neared Khuluub’s sanctuary, Eyna at last saw an image of Khuluub, a giant mosaic ten ells wide by ten high, with the Goddess standing atop a great pyramidal building, her red flesh seeming almost to move as the torchlight flickered across it. Surrounding her were concentric waves of worshipers. On the dais, near her sacred flesh, the high priests touched their heads to the ground. On each tier of the pyramid, the nobles, the warriors, the merchants, all supplicated themselves in their turn. From the base of the pyramid in long stretching ranks, the commoners abased themselves.

Khuluub, merciless goddess of fertility, had a place for humans.

On their knees.

Eyna turned from the glorious scene, and cast aside her torch. She could feel Khuluub’s radiance like heat upon her skin.

Without understanding why, Eyna began to cast off her garments as she took the final passageway into the garden.

She passed nude among the plants and the statues, trembling. And then she rounded the final corner and saw.

Khuluub reclined upon her divan. She looked the same as when Eyna had first seen her, and had thought her just another statue.

But now she was almost difficult to look at, so glorious was She.

Was it Eyna’s eyes, that had changed?

Come.

Eyna walked forward eagerly, eyes transfixed, heart pounding. Khuluub shifted on her divan, turned from her side to recline on her back. Her six breasts spread apart on her torso; the lower of her right hands gestured at Eyna, index finger curling, beckoning her closer with a knife-sharp black fingernail.

Come, slave.

Eyna nodded in agreement with her status as she approached the divan. Only Khuluub’s will kept her from falling to her knees, pressing her face to the floor.

Her knees bumped the stone surface of the divan. Khuluub’s green eyes, with their black, snakelike slits, looked down at Eyna from across the slick red flesh of her body.

I am pleased with you, slave.

Eyna shuddered in pleasure.

You have been a better instrument than I had even anticipated. You are correct to see that my power waxes; another few moon-cycles and I will shall be strong enough to leave these confines and touch my realm directly. By then, you will have made slaves of all the humans in my valley.

Yes, Mistress, Yes! Eyna thought.

Now I shall fit you for your next task.

On the divan, Khuluub spread her legs. Eyna’s eyes were drawn helplessly between them, to behold Khuluub’s sex; it was that of a woman, but perfect, the lips symmetrical and glossy black.

Come..

Eyna crawled up onto the surface of the divan. The stone was warm beneath her hands and knees, but not so warm as Khuluub’s flesh, which she could feel around her as she crawled forward between Khuluub’s knees. Khuluub’s thighs, each the size of Eyna’s torso, were smooth and perfect. And her sex...

It was the most wonderful thing Eyna could imagine.

You are a good slave, Khuluub told her. Feed on me, and be rewarded.

Eyna’s mouth fell open. She crawled forward, lowered her face-

-and tasted beauty.

It was love, physical, sweaty, body-pressing love. The act of creating new life, in a single experience. Eyna licked up one lip and down the other, and suckled on Khuluub’s clitoral hood. She put her arms beneath Khuluub’s thighs and held to the outside of her hips, pushing her face into Khuluub’s sex, wanting to never be anywhere else nor do anything else, forever.

A touch in her mind as Khuluub’s hips rotated slightly up, and Eyna stretched out her tongue and pushed it up into Khuluub’s body. She flicked it around, quickly, then slowly. Eyna would die for Khuluub, would kill, would rend her own body, yet nothing she could do could possibly merit such inexpressible bliss as this.

What perfection her Mistress was!

Eyna flexed her arms and pulled herself forward, her mouth tight to Khuluub’s sex, and reached as deeply as she could with her tongue... and noticed a change. Her tongue was longer. Yes, definitely, her tongue was stretching further, reaching deeper into Khuluub’s holy of holies, and there was something else, a prodding sensation on either side of her tongue, a pinching, something digging into her...

I fit you for your next purpose.

Something burrowed into the base of Eyna’s tongue simultaneously from either side. Eyna froze, stopping her cunnilingus for a moment—but she was Khuluub’s flesh and Khuluub’s will would be done, so she disregarded the intruders that were rooting into her and resumed her sucking, her licking.

Khuluub touched her mind again and Eyna looked up, up past the top of her sexlips and over her midriff, between her triple paired breasts and at her face, her beautiful, perfect face, and into her beautiful, beautiful eyes. The black slits widened, slid open almost to ovals, glossy black nothingness. They were dizzying.

Khuluub wanted her to drown in them and so Eyna did, letting herself fall; even as her new tongue worked at Khuluub’s sex and her body shivered in continuous orgasm, Eyna’s mind slid down into the depths of Khuluub’s black eyes and vanished there.

END Part Five