The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sandy shivered, and groggily realized she was awake. She yawned, stretched in her sleeping bag, and rolled over. Defiantly, she closed her eyes again.

A few minutes later, she sat up. Since turning thirty, she’d never been able to get back to sleep once she woke up, no matter how early it was. She fumbled around for her watch, found her glasses instead, and put them on. They didn’t help much, dark as it was. When she finally found her watch, it told her that it wasn’t even five yet.

Listening to the even breathing of the others in the big tent, she sighed. No one else would be up for hours. Not much sense in lying around here, though. Might as well get moving, and get warm that way. Crawling out of her sleeping bag into the cold air was a tough sell, but she did it anyways.

She slipped out of her sweatclothes and into clean underwear and yesterday’s jeans. The long-sleeve shirt that Troy had given her and not just one but two sweatshirts completed the transition from in-bed-Sandy to awake-Sandy. A hairband to corral her long brown hair, and she was ready for action. Stepping over the sleeping Fiona, she slipped out of the tent.

It was almost pitch black, and when she lit a Coleman lantern, she discovered why. The whole camp was smothered in fog. Solid fingers of mist drifted between the tents. Sandy shivered again. She checked the campfire, and found not even a single warm coal.

The little tent with the only married members of the team, Harry and Lil, was also quiet. No one would be up until seven at the earliest.

It would be warmer in the barrow.

Sandy nodded to herself. Might as well get some work done, and warm up. Her tools were right where she had downed them last night. They had scrupulously locked their tools up the first few nights, but after a while Troy had commented that no one ever came up here, especially not to go messing around in a barrow, and that no one wanted rock hammers and toothbrushes anyways. Since then they had left their gear in the barrow, and the locker had sat empty. It was nice to just be able to pick up where you left off.

She walked up the slope, away from camp. The barrow was on a high shoulder of Carnedd Wrach, overlooking the Cardigan Bay. The closest town was only two hours away by car, but the department hadn’t the funds to put them up in town. Anyways, losing four hours a day to drive to the site was out of the question. Camping wasn’t bad, but it did lack certain civilized amenities. Sandy missed the ability to drop into a pub after work even more than she missed warm showers.

Straw and weeds crunched underfoot as she trudged uphill. Usually, there was quite a view from up here, but today the fog encased her in a small room with gray walls. No gorgeous sunrise this morning.

Presently, Sandy began to wonder if she had missed the barrow entrance in the fog. It was just a hundred meters uphill, and she’d been walking for... how long? Was she on the path? Being lost in Wales wasn’t exactly a scary prospect. Maybe she could ‘accidentally’ stumble into a town, and have a few pints waiting for ‘rescue’.

She almost fell over the marker stone.

Sighing, Sandy held up her lantern, found the cut in the earth they had made, and walked over towards it. Although it was dark in the barrow, there was usually sunlight coming in to help illuminate their work. Perhaps she shouldn’t bother... no, it was cold out here. And no one would be awake for hours.

She walked down the into the barrow. The imposing stone wall slabs, exposed for the first time in millennia, were by now quite familiar. Beyond them, the large round chamber looked different, lit as it was only by her lantern. The walls were the same local stone slabs as the ceiling. But the floor, the floor they were carefully excavating, had become a jigsaw puzzle of shadows and exposed earth.

So far the expedition had uncovered some fairly significant potsherds and indications of metal weapons, long since rusted to stains in the earth. Sandy was working on tracing one, brushing away the earth around it so that the entire shape would be revealed. Then she would have to cut carefully underneath, so that the stained earth would not crumble.

Making her way across the different heights in the floor, she considered all of their workspaces. Troy was working in the center, still digging with a hand trowel. Fiona and Melanie were digging out some wooden implements towards the southern wall, and Lauren was pulling up a rather mysterious stack of inscribed stones between them and Troy’s area. Lil was doing the mapping, and Harry and Otto were outside, sinking holes around the area. So far, nothing really exciting, but enough to please the University. Troy was happy.

The shadows were really making the place look strange. Sandy got to her spot, the rusty stain in the earth she was uncovering with a flathead screwdriver and a toothbrush. It was an old friend—she’d been working on it for three days. Soon the putty knife would come into play. Rapture. Sighing, she sat down.

There was a noise. Startled, Sandy looked around. The barrow was full of strange shadows, lit as it was only by her lamp. Right, this was dead creepy. She shouldn’t have come up here... but what was she worried about? A rapist, loose in the Welsh highlands? Any scream would carry to the camp. And the others would never let her forget even a word of nervousness because of ghosts.

She snorted. Just the word was ridiculous. Ghosts. Sandy scanned the interior space again, shook her head, and leaned against the wall.

And broke through.

It was only a small shriek. Heart racing, she pulled her arm from the hole it had just punched in the dirt between the bases of two large wall slabs. Letting her breath slow, she shined her lamp into the crack.

There was a space beyond. A room. Excitement swelled in Sandy, obliterated the remnants of her fear. A room! A room—maybe untouched by the grave robbers that had cleaned this place out centuries ago. Visions of Howard Carter flashed in her eyes. She looked at the hole she had just made.

The wall slabs were perhaps eight feet tall and four feet wide. But here, at the bottom between two of them, there was a small triangular space where the less-than-rectangular stones pulled away from each other. They had all just assumed the hill was solid on the other side. But, looking at the hole, that was obviously not the case.

She could get in. There was enough room between the slabs, if she scraped away the dirt, to get through to the other side, if she squeezed in on her belly. Sandy was a tall girl, but there was room here even for Otto, although only just.

Could she? She should go wake up the others. Early or not, they’d damn well forgive her. But... but she was here, now. No one had seen this room for centuries. Millennia. She could walk into a room as the sole discoverer. It was a once in a lifetime chance.

She shouldn’t, but on the other hand, they’d forgive her. It wasn’t like she’d ransack the place.

Quickly, she punched out the remaining dirt. Soon the hole between the stones was clear. Sandy slid the lantern inside, and to the side, then pushed herself through, on her belly.

There was room to stand on the other side. She picked up the lantern.

And gasped.

The room beyond was small, circular—just like the room she had come from. Walled with stone slabs, with heavy stones making a low roof. But in the center...

In the center of the room was a tremendous cauldron. It was easily seven feet in diameter.

And it was gold.

Breathless, Sandy approached it. Not only was it gold, it had round gems set into the sides, red stones large as her fist. She was Howard Carter. Nothing like this had ever been found in England. It was bigger than Sutton Hoo.

Was there more? She looked around the room. Sure enough, at the base of the walls, other objects glinted. Gingerly, she tiptoed around the huge cauldron. Sneaking a glance into it, she found it was empty, though stained black on the inside. Then she looked at the piles lining the walls around it. In rotted, splintered wood, lay shining heaps of golden chains, chalices, statuettes. Her light flickered and danced on them.

And on bones. Skulls stared at her with empty eye sockets. In neat mounds, heaps that were once people lined the walls around the cauldron. The gold of their jewelry mixed with their grey bones. Twelve, maybe fourteen of them, spaced evenly around the walls.

Slowly, Fiona circled the room. She tiptoed between the cauldron and the small, precious heaps lining the walls. Opposite the entrance she found the only shelf which had survived the ages. It was flanked by a pair of skulls, watching the intruder with empty eyes from atop the rest of their remains.

On the shelf was a mask, a face of gold with eyes of glittering green. Sandy’s eyes widened. She knelt, and held the lamp to it.

It was the face of a woman. Even in gold, she was quite striking. Her brows were high, arched. Her lips, forever sealed, were smooth and full, and fixed in an enigmatic smile. And her eyes were glittering green stones. Glittering, sparkling green. Pulsing in the light from Sandy’s lantern.

Sandy frowned. The eyes, faceted stones that could only be emerald, were sparkling in a way that they shouldn’t. She sat down to stare at them. The Celts had never made faceted stones. That skill didn’t show up to the Renaissance. Where could these have come from? She leaned in, trying to examine them, but kept being caught by the play of light in the brilliant gems, losing her focus.

They seemed almost alive. Why were they glittering so? She realized that her hand was moving, swinging the lamp, and idly sent out a command to stop it. But the glitter in the gems distracted her again, and she forgot about it. They were really quite beautiful. Such a deep green. And it was so early in the morning, and she was tired, and the eyes were so pretty.

And they were so wide. The mask had such a commanding, wide-eyed stare. Sandy felt her own eyes widen to match, even though she was beginning to fall asleep. Somewhere, her own hand was swinging the lamp. And there was a voice. She hadn’t been able to hear it before, but that’s when she had been awake. She was falling asleep now. Asleep, staring into those beautiful, beautiful eyes. Listening to the voice. To her voice. Listening, and accepting.

She was so tired, after all. It made sense to sleep. Sandy smiled, fuzzily, and let herself drift. The voice was soft, but strong, and Sandy smiled and stared into the green eyes and listened to it.

She sat on the floor, and slept with her eyes wide, and accepted what the voice told her.

A while later, her eyes never leaving the glittering green suns which had captured them, Sandy’s other hand slid into the pile of bones, pulling out an egg, golden and heavy. And cold.

Unblinking, she let it rest on the cup of an ankle, while she unzipped her pants.

Troy poked at the fire with a stick.

He loved camping. Bringing his grad students out on this dig was a good way for him to decide which ones were also good campers. As far as Troy was concerned, if you didn’t like camping, you weren’t going to be a good archaeologist.

The sun would be up soon. He was undoubtedly the first up, but they had all proven to be good at rising early. He had changed in the tent, then slipped out without waking anyone to light the fire.

There was stirring in the Pullmans’ tent. Harry was not in the department, was in fact an accountant, but he did fine work around the dig. And to have Lil along, it would have been worth bringing Harry even if he had been all thumbs. Troy had rarely seen as good anyone as good with the free-hand work as Lil Pullman. And she was a hottie, too, with her short blonde hair and those small breasts she rarely bothered to put in a bra. Of course, she was married, but he was just looking. They were all at least ten years younger than him, anyway. But no harm in looking. It’s not like a dig was a good place to pull.

That was another perk of this particular expedition. Donovan had given him a ribbing about it, taking along five grad student hotties and only two other men. But that’s how archaeology was shaking out, these days. Was it his fault the best students in the department were women?

He poked at the fire again. About time to start the coffee. That should wake people up.

“Hey, Troy,” a soft voice said.

He turned. Sandy was standing there, fully dressed—but not in front of the tent. She was on the path down from the dig.

“Good morning, Sandy,” he replied. “Were you already up?”

“Yes,” she said quietly. He lowered his voice to match.

“Huh. I didn’t notice when I came out of the tent. How long have you been up?”

“Not long. Come up to the barrow.”

“I will. Let’s let other folks get up, first.”

“No, you should come up now. I have something very exciting to show you.”

“You find something?”

“I found a room. A room full of gold.”

He stared at her. She was just standing there, looking back at him.

“You’re shitting me.”

“No. Come and look, before the others wake up.”

He considered. Was it a practical joke? If she had really found a room full of gold, she would have come shouting into the camp. No way she’d be this calm. And she’d never call it “a room full of gold”. Not someone a year from her doctorate.

On the other hand, what could it hurt? Everyone else was asleep, so there were unlikely to be any cream pies in store for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He put the stick down, and turned to find her already headed up the hill. He scrambled after her.

The sun rose, coating the grassy hills with orange light. Sandy was still ahead of him. “Hey, wait up!” he called.

She stopped at the entrance to the barrow. Panting, he arrived just as she got there, a step ahead of him. She wasn’t even breathing hard. He stared at her, a bit aggravated. She looked pointedly into the barrow. Rolling his eyes, he walked down inside.

The sunlight coming in through the trench and the hole where they had removed the wall slab lit the room with orange light. Immediately, he spotted the small hole in the opposite wall. She wasn’t lying.

“I leaned against the wall, and fell through,” Sandy breathed in his ear, causing him to start.

He looked at her. She was sure acting weird. Nonetheless. He crossed the room to the small hole, got on his knees, and looked in.

A lantern inside cast light onto a huge cauldron. A golden cauldron, with red gemstones. His breath caught. He stared up at Sandy, who stood over him.

“Go in,” she said.

He shouldn’t. But... she’d obviously been in there. He should chastise her for that. Later. Dropping to his stomach, he slid past the wall slabs. Inside, he stood up. His pulse racing, he walked up to the cauldron. It was huge, and covered in gold. Could it be solid? No, it had to be foil. Had to be. Around the walls of the room, more gold glinted. Piles of it.

“Sweet Jesus,” he breathed.

“Hardly,” Sandy said in a flat voice beside him, and stabbed him through the heart.

The pain was undescribable. Mouth a rictus of pain, he spun, turned to Sandy with pleading eyes. Sandy, knife in hand, looked back at him with a blank expression. His hands clutched at the rim of the cauldron as his knees gave out.

With another, sharper, knife, she slit his throat. Blood sprayed the inside of the cauldron.

Expressionlessly, she pushed Troy’s collapsing body into the cauldron. He hung over the lip, twitching, as she lifted his legs and slid him entirely in. Then she stood at the edge, and watched as the blood rose in the bottom, until his corpse was an inch deep in it.

It was, of course, not enough. But it was a start.

Sandy walked around the cauldron, to where her Queen’s mask sat on its bench. Reverently, she lifted it. The inside was concave, the beaten gold the mirror image of the beautiful face on the outside. The green gems glinted.

Inside her, her Queen’s egg pulsed, and pleasure washed through Sandy. Yes, she was a good slave. So obedient. It pulsed again, and she dropped to her knees.

Staring into her Queen’s eyes, Sandy quietly came, and waited for further instruction.

Lil slid out of the pup tent she shared with Harry. He was getting dressed.

Sandy was standing in front of the fire, making coffee. Lil smiled.

“Morning, Sandy.”

“Good morning!” Sandy turned and smiled at her. “Coffee’s ready.”

“Great, I can use it. Anyone else awake?”

“Troy got up, but then he got a phone call. Something at the university. He was pretty grumpy.” Sandy shrugged. “Said he had to go back and clear something up—would be back tomorrow, or day after at the latest.”

Lil poured herself a cup of coffee. The sun was low in the eastern sky, but it looked to be a bright sunny day.

“Huh. Did he say what it was about?”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I just hope it’s not about the dig. We’ve only been here two weeks.”

“Well,” Lil said, “I’m sure Troy can handle it.”

“Handle what?” Harry asked, emerging from his tent.

“Oh, Troy took off this morning,” Lil replied. “Got a phone call.”

“Huh. The car’s still here.”

Harry looked at Lil, who looked at Sandy.

“Yeah,” she said, “he said that he wanted to leave it in case we had an emergency, since he was taking the phone.”

“He walked to town?” Harry asked. “It’s five hours away on foot!”

Sandy shrugged. “I guess that’s why he left early.”

Harry frowned. “Idiot. And taking the satellite phone with him. Great.”

“Well, he’ll be back in day or two, dear,” Lil said. “It’s not like we can’t work without him.”

“I guess so,” Harry said. “Still, he shouldn’t go leaving like that.”

“Like what?” Fiona asked, sticking her head out of the big tent.

They told her.

Other than Troy’s sudden departure, the day went the same way most days at the dig had. After everyone was caffeinated, they went up to the barrow. Harry and Otto, whose English was excellent but who spoke German in his sleep, worked on a shaft over a promising part of the barrow exterior, sinking it another eight feet but finding nothing. Lil finished her diagram of the floor, and started work on the ceiling. Lauren removed, labeled, and bagged eight more stones, and transcribed the inscriptions on them. Fiona and Melanie declared that the wood they were excavating was a chair, and Melanie went outside to start diagraming the pieces while Fiona worked on removing the last few sticks from the barrow floor.

Sandy had hung a white cloth on the wall next to where she was uncovering the spot a sickle had rested. It gave her better light, she said, illuminating the dirt she was carefully brushing away with a toothbrush.

The day passed. Melanie knocked off at four, to go start the shepherd’s pie they were having for supper. Lil went down to the camp to ink her drawings. At about quarter to five, Harry and Otto stuck their heads in to announce that they were heading down to clean up for supper.

“Be right there,” Sandy said. Fiona put her tools down. As she headed for the exit, Sandy hissed at her.

“Hey,” she said. “Come look at this.”

She held up a corner of the white cloth hung on the wall. Fiona blinked.

“Jesus, Sandy,” she said. “Is that a hole?”

“Yeah. I found it this morning.”

Fiona walked over to where Sandy crouched at the wall. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Troy said not to. He’s gone to get photographers.”

“Photographers?”

“Take a look.”

Fiona knelt down, and looked in the hole. Sandy shone a lantern in.

Gold glinted in the darkness.

“Good Lord.” Fiona looked at Sandy, eyes wide. “Is that...?”

“Go take a look.”

“You sure? If Troy said—”

“He won’t know. Just have a look.”

Fiona licked her lips. “Can I?”

“Do it.”

Quickly, Fiona crawled into the hole. She was a small woman, and didn’t even touch the ground with her body as she squeezed in. Sandy handed her the lantern, crawled in after her, and took the lantern back.

“Wow.” Looking around the room, Fiona ran a hand through her boyishly short red hair. “This... wow. It’s like King Tut.” She walked up to the cauldron. “It’s so big. It’s... what the?”

Fiona leaned over the edge of the cauldron, reaching to touch the pool of dark liquid inside. She pulled her hand up to the light slanting over the edge of the cauldron, to reveal glistening red.

A hand grabbed the back of her head, and shoved her forward into the cauldron.

Fiona’s hand slipped off the rim as she tumbled forward. Her face plunged into the blood and hit the bottom of the cauldron. It was only a few inches deep, but she was being held under, mouth and nose full of blood, and her fall in had stunned her.

Her hands thrashed, then pushed on the bottom of the cauldron, trying desperately to lift her out of the blood she was drowning in. Whoever was holding her down was stronger than she was.

She kicked, connected with flesh. She kicked again, and again. It didn’t move. Stars were exploding in her head, and she kicked out again, feebly. Her captor didn’t move at all.

Then Fiona was still.

Sandy waited, holding Fiona’s head under, until she was sure the small redhead was unconscious. Then she pulled her back out, and laid her on the floor. With both hands, she pushed down on Fiona’s chest. Twice. Again.

Violently, Fiona choked, blood spattering out of her mouth. Sandy pumped again, and Fiona choked out more blood. With a burbling sound, she began to breathe, coughing blood onto her shirt.

Her face expressionless, Sandy stood up, looking down at the blood-covered young woman on the floor. Fiona had not regained consciousness. Sandy paused, staring, then her head tilted up. She walked around the cauldron, past Troy’s crumpled, bled out body, and to the mask. She picked it up, stared into its glittering eyes. For a long moment, she stared, green flickers reflecting in her own grey eyes.

Then she returned to the prone form of Fiona. Kneeling, she placed the mask on the unconscious, but breathing, woman.

Fiona blurred into awareness with her eyes full of glittering green. She tried to sit up, to lift her hands, but someone was holding her down.

“Be calm,” came Sandy’s voice. “Relax.”

“Sandy? There’s something on my face... I can’t see.”

“Relax. Be calm. Everything is fine. Relax.”

What had happened? Whatever was on her face, Fiona could sort of see through it, see a thousand emerald images of Sandy. It was heavy, but not uncomfortable. And it was very... enjoyable, to just stare into it. She tried to relax. It was easy. The green light filling her eyes so restful.

Part of her tried to remember what had happened, but another part stilled it. She’d been hurt. She needed to relax. Everything would become clear later.

Fiona relaxed.

She felt Sandy taking off her pants, but the protest never reached her lips. Everything was fine, was better than fine. A brief thought that Sandy would see the truth of her red hair melted like every other thought. Fiona’s pants left her ankles, and she waited, open, staring. Letting the green light fill her mind.

The images of Sandy disappeared as Fiona’s eyes lost focus. It was too much work, and she was to relax. There was still light coming through the green, sparkling, dancing. Fiona let it fill her, enter her, no longer trying to focus at all.

There was breath on her inner thighs. A hand was spreading her legs, and she let it. The voice—there was a voice?—was telling her to let herself be spread, and she obeyed it. She felt so calm, so relaxed.

A thrill ran through her as something touched her pussy. A tongue. Sandy’s tongue. Now her trance was lifting her into pleasure. She just had to stare, be open, let the green light fill her mind, and she would vanish into the growing pleasure.

The tongue on her slit was joined by lips, working, licking, sucking. A moan escaped Fiona’s mouth, but her eyes only widened further. She had to listen to the voice, accept the light.

The voice was commanding, now, telling Fiona who she would become, and all that was left of Fiona was agreeing. Agreeing to be obedient, to submit. It was all she wanted to do.

The pleasure grew. She was wet, and her own juices mingled with the saliva of the mouth at her cunt. Her hips twitched, involuntarily. The green light filled her. She would obey, would become a slave. Yes.

Fiona gasped as something cold and round pushed at her nether lips. Her eyes didn’t blink, even as her back arched and the moan grew in her throat. Push back, the green instructed her, and she did, eager to obey. To become a slave, as it wanted her to.

The cold object slid into her. It was heavy. A hand was helping it, sliding it deeper, and Fiona spread herself as wide as she could. It would be her anchor to her Queen, binding her soul forever in slavery. Fiona pushed down on it, seeking to work it in deeply, into her body, into her soul, into her heart.

She succeeded.

“Okay, Otto, go fetch them. The food won’t wait any longer.”

“Okey-dokey.” Otto rose from his camp chair. He headed up the path to the barrow.

“Explain to me,” Lauren said, looking up from the paperback she was reading, “why the only exchange student here speaks American?”

“Sign of the times,” Harry answered.

“Bad taste,” Melanie replied.

“Someone looking for me?” Sandy said, walking into camp.

“Fiona! We just sent Otto up to find you and Fiona,” Lil said. “What took you so long?”

“Just reaching a good stopping point,” Sandy said, plunking herself down in the camp chair Otto had recently vacated.

“Is Fiona still up there?”

“Yeah,” Sandy replied. “She’ll be down presently.”

“Well,” Melanie said, “would you like some pie?”

“Oooh, yes,” Sandy said. Melanie cut a section out of the large rectangular pan, and scooped the contents onto a plate. Sandy took it with relish.

“So, did you get the rest of that sickle out?” Melanie asked.

“Mmmf bmmmf morph,” Sandy replied. “This is hot.”

“And you’re lucky it is,” Melanie observed. “Coming down late like that. Answer my question.”

“Not quite. The tip is rather oddly angled, and I didn’t want to break it. Finally gave up before it got too dark.”

They ate for a while. Harry finished his plate, and started water boiling to do the dishes. Lauren read her book. Sandy ate.

“Shouldn’t Otto be back with Fiona?” Lil finally asked.

“Maybe she’s showing him something,” Sandy said. “They’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

“Could you go up and check on them?” Lil asked.

“I would do,” Sandy replied, cleaning her glasses on a shirttail, “but there they are.”

Sure enough, Fiona and Otto were winding their way down the hill. Fiona waved at them. A minute later they walked into the camp.

“Pip pip,” Otto said. “Cor, blimey, I found her.”

“You heard!” Lauren exclaimed.

Otto smiled. “Us boches have good hearing,” he said. “Although no sense of humor.”

Harry laughed, and was joined a moment later by everyone else. There was a tension in the air since Troy had left, and it was good to break it.

After the dishes were done, they played cards until it grew cold, then went to bed.

Fiona and Sandy stood in the dark outside the small tent. The only sound was the whistle of the wind between the tents, and the even breathing of the people lying inside. Fiona’s head cocked to the side, then back up. Her eyes were blank, and wide as saucers. Sandy’s, glasses missing, were equally glassy and wide. Fiona shivered, then the two were still again, staring at the tent.

Wispy clouds slid across the moon. The air began to thicken, drops of water forming on the faces of the two women, and speckling the tents. Mist crept about their ankles, rose to their knees. An owl hooted. The two women simply stared at the tent. Waiting.

Then, inside each of them, there was a pulse, and they began to move.

Lil’s head hurt, a lot.

That was the first thing she noticed when she woke up. Blinking, she realized she was not in the tent.

Then she realized she was tied up, and gagged.

Fear snapping her to full awareness, she looked around. She was in a small room, dimly lit by lanterns. It looked like the dig, but... in front of her was a tremendous golden cauldron, studded with deep red jewels. And on the other side of it-

Harry!

Harry was leaning over the cauldron—no, being held out over the cauldron. By Sandy! His head drooped; he was obviously unconscious. His shirt was missing.

And Sandy! Sandy was naked—Lil could see her pubic hair, just above the cauldron rim. Her breasts, tan lines evident even in the dim light of the stone room. Her eyes were wide open, staring yet blank, and she was adorned with gold. A neck torc, armbands, earrings. And in her hand, she held a golden knife. Her glasses were missing.

Lil kicked. Sandy had a knife! What was-

Then she screamed. With a smooth motion, Sandy drew the knife across Harry’s throat, and blood sprayed into the cauldron. And she kept screaming, as the blood didn’t stop, but kept spurting from Harry’s neck. The gag in her mouth kept the noise from filling the chamber, but she couldn’t stop screaming anyway, helplessly watching her husband’s blood shoot from his neck.

As it tapered off, so did her screaming. Tears ran down her cheeks.

A hand grabbed her, and she bucked. Tied as she was, however, she couldn’t avoid the strong grip that siezed her shoulders.

It was Fiona. She was also naked, her pale skin bedecked with golden trinkets. Kicking and struggling, Lil was propelled to the cauldron. Her shrieked protestations never escaped the gag.

Sandy let Harry’s body drop to the floor, and it disappeared behind the cauldron. Although smaller by two stone, Fiona steered the bound Lil to the edge of the cauldron with little difficulty. Sandy stared at her with glittering eyes.

Pushed to the cauldron’s edge, Lil wept. She didn’t want to die. But what was happening was so unbelievable, it had to be some sort of terrible dream. Any sort of end would be better than living through it, and she stopped kicking as Fiona bent her over the edge. She waited for the knife.

Then, Fiona pushed her in.

She splashed into the thick blood filling the bottom of the cauldron. For a moment her head was under, then she writhed and rolled over, gasping for air through the gag. Thick red blood covered her, and she fought not to retch.

Panting, she tried to regain her senses. The two women—Sandy! Fiona!—were not cutting at her with their golden knives. Instead they were... chanting?

Miserable, Lil stared up at the women on either side of the cauldron. She was in blood almost up to her waist, leaning against one of the cauldron walls. The chanting continued, and fresh tears came to Lil’s eyes. What had happened to them? What were they doing? Harry...

Then something in the cauldron moved. No, the cauldron itself moved. No—the blood moved! The blood in the cauldron was enveloping her, running up her body from where she sat in it, covering her like it was alive. Lil screamed again, as the thick red stuff raced over her breasts, up her neck. Then it stopped.

Underneath, she felt things move against her skin. Her clothes were torn off, and her clothes—and the rope binding her—were suddenly expelled, sliding down her blood coating to the bottom of the cauldron. She was naked now, dressed only in glistening red. Tentatively, she tried to lift an arm, but her new outfit was as much of a prison as the ropes had been.

The chanting had stopped. Lil looked up at Sandy’s wide eyes, which were now fixed on her.

“Stand,” Sandy said.

Lil did so—or rather, she found herself standing. Her body obeyed Sandy’s command without any input from Lil. Frantically, she tried to move, but her body stood motionless. Awaiting commands from its new owner.

“Step out,” Sandy said, and the slick red body of Lil did so, leaving her standing at attention next to the cauldron. Lil moaned into her gag.

Fiona’s head cocked to the side, then back. Blank eyes staring through Lil, she lifted a hand and removed the gag, dropping it to the floor. Then Fiona stepped to a wall, squatted down, and rose holding a golden egg. Staring at nothing, she turned back to where Lil stood immobile.

“Oh, please,” Lil whispered, surprised to hear her own voice.

“Sit, and spread your legs,” Sandy said.

Whimpering, Lil’s body seated itself, and unhesitatingly spread her legs wide. Her pussy glistened with the same even crimson as the rest of her flesh.

“What the FUCK?” came a voice from behind Lil.

“RU—” Lil screamed, or tried. As she reached the end of her warning, her throat choked closed, and she gagged. The crimson skin coating her grabbed her throat like a pair of hands.

Behind her, she heard someone scrambling away. Thank God, she had managed to warn whoever it was. Lil didn’t care what happened to her any more, but this monstrosity had to be stopped.

Fiona and Sandy stood quietly for a moment. Whatever controlled them had obviously not given them much initiative. Then Sandy’s head angled down to stare at Lil.

“Catch her, and bring her back.”

Lil’s body sprang to its feet, and raced to the small crack between wall slabs that was apparently the entrance to this room. Without stopping, it dove through, and was on its feet in the room beyond. Lil recognized it as the barrow interior. She had been in some second chamber.

Her body raced outside, moving faster than Lil had ever done. Red legs pumping, she burst from the dig. She spotted a figure just leaving the site, running for camp. Lil’s body shot after it.

It was no contest. The cursed magic that was in charge of Lil’s body caught Lauren—for it was Lauren—before she had gotten ten feet towards camp. Lil tried to scream a warning, but her throat was still closing off any sounds she might make. She was getting dizzy, but her body seemed to not care. Diving, it tackled Lauren, who shrieked and was muffled with a crimson hand across her mouth.

Lauren kicked and writhed, but Lil’s body took no notice, as it picked her up as though she weighed nothing at all. One hand on her mouth, one around her waist, it carried her back into the barrow.

Lil found her voice. “I’m sorry, Lauren,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry.” Tears broke out again. “I can’t control myself.”

Lauren, mouth held shut, could only kick and elbow Lil. Mercifully, she couldn’t feel any of the blows.

As she reached the hole in the wall, behind which was the chamber of terror, Lil’s body stopped. It seemed unable to decide how to both crawl back into the chamber and maintain control of the struggling Lauren. Hope flickered into Lil’s heart.

Then came the same flat, even voice, from inside. “Push the woman’s lower body into the chamber, and hold her.”

It took the body a moment to comply, for Lauren had heard the command as well, and stabbed with her legs at the wall slabs, keeping her body out of the hole. Every time Lil’s body knocked one of Lauren’s legs free of the wall, the leg would fly up and press against a different spot, keeping itself from being forced into the hole.

“Way to go, girl,” Lil whispered. “Don’t give in.”

Then her body drew a hand back, and struck Lauren in the head.

Lauren jerked, and went limp. Lil sobbed. Carefully, Lil’s body slid Lauren’s legs into the hole, sliding her in up to her midriff. Then it held her there, arms locked around her arms and head in a full nelson. There was movement inside.

Lil waited, hoping against hope. Maybe someone had heard Lauren’s yell. Maybe Otto would come, and she could warn him. Whatever they had done to her, she couldn’t be in two places at once.

Lauren stirred. “Whaaa?” she slurred.

Then she twitched. “Hey! What are you doing?” She looked down her body. “Stop it! Jesus!” She tried to thrash, but was held at either end. “Stop it!”

Eyes rolling up, she spied Lil. “Lil! Let me go!”

“I can’t,” Lil whispered back. “I’m not in control.”

Lauren stared at her, then gasped and looked back down her body. “Stop... oh, stop...” she said, voice cracking. “Please, Fiona, stop...”

Her breathing was accelerating. She moaned, and twitched in Lil’s grip. “What are you doing to me?” Lauren breathed. Arousal was in her tone, and Lil stared unbelievingly down at her.

“God,” Lauren gasped, “Lil, she’s... she’s licking...” Lauren mewled. “What’s happening to me? Why am I so... Please stop, Fiona. Please, please, please... I can’t... oh GOD...”

Lil strained to see into the room beyond, but she could see nothing beyond Lauren’s twisting stomach.

“Oh! just... please stop.... Fiona... I can’t... Oh!” Lauren bucked again, not of her own doing. She let out a long cat-like mewl. “Ohhhh...” She twitched again.

Then she gasped, and looked back down. “What’s that? What are- it’s cold! Stop it! Oh God, don’t! Take it out! Take- hrrrrnnnhhhh.” Lauren was panting. “What are you.... ohhhh.... it’s....” She bucked again.

“Let her go,” came Sandy’s dead voice.

Lil released Lauren, and stood erect.

Lauren writhed slowly on the floor, groaning. Then, without resistance, she was slowly pulled into the room beyond the wall.

Sandy crawled out. Behind her, Lauren’s moans continued. “Oh,” Lil could make out.

“Oh, yes.”

Her eyes snapped back to Sandy, standing in front of her. In one hand, she held up a golden egg. It was smooth and reflective in the dim light.

“Now Lil,” she said. “it’s time for yours.”

“Please,” Lil replied, “Please.”

Sandy just stared at her. Then she gave the command.

Lil didn’t even try to stop her body from lying down and spreading wide.

Her perspective was very different, just a short while later.

Having moved the slab that was the true door to her Queen’s chamber, freeing the slaves to move in and out more easily, Lil strode down the hill. Her wide eyes mirrored those of Fiona, Sandy, and Lauren, all now adorned and waiting for the final sacrifice. There was only one task that remained to be completed first, and Lil eagerly obeyed the order to complete it. The crimson of her slave suit was deepening to black, beading from the fog as she raced towards the camp. Inside her, her egg pulsed approval.

She siezed hold of one corner of the large tent, and pulled it down.

The first shape up, cursing and thrashing, was Otto. Lil stepped to him, and expertly snapped his neck.

Melanie, asking frightened questions, was the next up. Lil tore the tent from around her, and struck her hard in the head. She cried out and dropped back down, but did not pass out. Lil squatted next to her, shining in skin-tight reddish black, and struck her in the head again.

Now she was quiet.

Lil carried the two bodies, one dead, one not, rapidly back to the hill. Entering the chamber, she laid the male’s corpse at the foot of the cauldron, and held the unconscious female by the shoulders.

Bearing a knife, Fiona stepped up to Melanie, and slit her clothes from neck to crotch. They were pulled away.

Lauren, dark eyes glittering and wide, lifted Otto to the cauldron’s edge, and cut his throat. The blood splashed into the holy vessel.

Melanie awoke in the cauldron, clad in blood to her throat. Her new skin kept her from screaming, as Sandy ordered her out. It did allow her moans of pleasure, after Fiona had inserted the golden egg into her obediently spread legs.

When Melanie finally stood, she was as properly enslaved as the rest of them.

The five slaves stood at attention in the Queen’s hall. Of course they were naked, as befitted slaves, but they were bedecked in gold, sign of their Queen’s favor. Heavy torcs adorned throats, and bracelets glinted on wrists and ankles. Melanie and Lil wore the shining black skin of Her warriors.

Five pairs of eyes stared without seeing at the wall across from them.

Then Sandy moved, obeying without thought the voice in her head. She walked around the cauldron, half-full of blood, to where the face of her Queen sat on its pedestal. She picked it up, and brought it to her face with both hands. The golden chain held it tight to her head. Then, her grey eyes staring into the glittering green eyes of her Queen, she dropped her hands.

A moment passed. The slaves waited.

Then Sandy moved again, rounding the cauldron on the other side (widdershins always), and walking to face the the four lined against the wall. Their heads turned, and their eyes focused on the flickering eyes of their Queen.

“It is time for our Queen to leave this place,” Sandy said from behind the mask. “She will take a body again, and once more walk as a mortal woman amongst us.” Sandy paused. “The body she will take will be mine.”

The four slaves opposite did not react. The will of their Queen was all. Each of them would have eagerly given her own body that She might use it.

“Open your minds to instruction,” Sandy said. The four slaves stared into the glittering green eyes of the mask, and the knowledge of what the would do poured into them. Their minds were perfect vessels, bowls for their queen to empty or fill as She chose.

Sandy stepped forward, and lowered herself to the dirt floor. Behind the green eyes, her eyes were wide and obedient. She began to chant in a tongue she could never had known.

Around her, the other four arranged themselves, and their voices raised other words in the same tongue.

Lil, golden-haired, clad in glistening black, blue eyes painfully wide, chanted of obedience, of the eagerness to do a Queen’s bidding.

Lauren, tall, strong, muscles glinting in the lantern light, chanted of emptiness, of hollowness of mind, of a slave’s ability to think no thought but what she was given.

Melanie, heavy breasted, her shaven mons shining beneath a shining black skin she would wear forever, sang of binding, of the chains that could fetter a soul forever.

Fiona, her skin the color of alabaster, her nipples rose, sang of rebirth, the changing of one life into another, and the resurrection of her Queen.

And Sandy, masked, lying on the dirt floor, chanted a spell of expulsion, of casting out. Forcing aside her own soul that her body could belong to her Queen.

The power swelled in the room. In the cauldron, the blood of three men began to roil, bubbles forming and bursting on the surface. The voices rose, together, tongues releasing the words as they unspooled in enthralled minds. The stones themselves flexed and groaned as the thrumming in the tomb reached a crescendo.

Sandy shrieked. In English, she cried “My Queen! My Queen! I give you my body! I cast out my own soul FOR EVER!”

With a single crack, the emerald eyes shattered.

The room was still. The four slaves, two pale, two shining black, waited, unable to think of doing anything else. The cauldron stilled.

Sandy sat up, and took off the mask.

Her eyes were emerald green.

Smiling, and ran her hands along her body. “Yes,” she said, “This will do very nicely.” She stood up and surveyed the four women.

“If the rest of your world is like you four,” she said, “this should be no trouble at all.” Smiling, she walked into the front room, the barrow that had so recently been the attention of the thralls behind her.

She laughed. “Ah, Llynbaerd. You didn’t understand just how patient I could be. I doubt if anyone even remembers you now.” Green eyes shimmering, she turned to face her slaves.

“It’s good to be back, but there is much to be done. But.” She gestured, and four minds were filled with instruction. “First I want to take a bath. Attend me.”

The four thralls, eyes blank, stepped forward to their Queen, and carried her to the cauldron.