The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Morning Star piloted her small woman’s boat on the calm western sea. She pulled in her net and put the load of fish in the front of the boat. Something caught her eye in the distance and she turned the boat to get a better view. Soon enough, a basket bumped the hull of her boat. A feeble cry came from within. She pulled the basket into the boat and removed the strange-looking, waterlogged blanket. A small boy lay within, half-starved, pale and shivering. Morning star had never seen a child so pale. Her own daughter was about his age, and mother’s instinct prompted her to put the child to her breast. The pale skin contrasted sharply with her own darker tone. His hair was the color of the gold artifacts which came from the Pyramid Builders to the south. His facial features were so different, and yet there was no doubt this was a human baby. Morning Star turned her boat and let the rising tide bring her back to shore.

“There she is!” cried one of the children on shore. Charging Bull rose from his sitting position. She was coming slowly. As she neared shore, he waded into the water and pulled her boat ashore. She got out and walked toward the tent. Wondering why she had left her catch, he hefted the net and carried it to where the other fish were being cleaned and dried, then he hurried off to their tent.

“Morning Star, what is wrong with you?” he asked. She turned, and it was then he saw the pale child she was nursing even now. “What’s this then?”

“Don’t you recognize a baby boy when you see one?” she asked. “Or have you gotten so used to seeing me nursing only daughters that you’ve forgotten what one looks like?”

“Morning Star, you know I love our children unconditionally.” he said. “Our daughters will help the tribe forge alliances with other people along the sea.”

“But I see the look in your eyes. You truly would like a son, a young hunter for the People, someone to kill food for the tribe. This is our chance to raise a son of our own.”

“Where did you find this boy?” Charging Bull asked.

“Drifting on the sea in a basket, half-starved.” Morning Star replied. “And I have more than enough for the both of them. When I feed our own daughter, there is so much that the milk from the other breast stains the front of my dress.” Charging Bull knew his wife was right. Even if she hadn’t yet bourne him a son, one thing she was definitely not deficient in was the production of life-giving milk. In previous years, she had nursed the sons of other warriors when their wives died in childbirth. She always had plenty.

“Alright.” he said. “We’ll keep him, unless his people come looking for him.”

Tanager watched the young stranger with wonder in her eight-year-old soul. The boy was about her age, but pale, with hair like the rays of Father Sun and eyes like the sky. He carried a doe three times his size on his back as if it were almost nothing. There was joy in his song, even though it was in a language unfamiliar to her. She’d seen boys his age catch rabbits in snares, or club packrats or raid birds’ nests, but never before had she seen anyone younger than fourteen kill deer or elk. Was this a spirit perhaps? Or the Trickster Coyote in disguise? Tanager followed at a discreet distance.

Hair Like Sunshine sang happily as he made his way back to the village. At eight summers in age, he was the youngest of his people to have mastered the art of weapons-crafting—making the spears and atlatls (spear-throwers) which allowed his people to hunt and make war—and now was the youngest to have killed meat for his people. The doe on his back was a difficult burden, but he bore it joyously. Charging Bull would be proud of him. Morning Star would be proud of him. The whole village would be proud of him. He climbed a steep hill with difficulty. The burden on his back weighed him down and threw off his balance. But he climbed with a vigor that such young limbs shouldn’t possess, by all rights. He was fueled by the anticipation of seeing the looks on his fellow villagers’ faces when he crested this rise with his first big kill on his back, whereas other boys his age were still trying to learn to make spearheads and snare rabbits. He pulled himself to the top and stood. His jaw dropped at the sight of the village. Smoke billowed from places where tents had once been. Charred skeletons lay on the ground. People lay with spears protruding from their chests. He found Morning Star lying thus. He pulled the spear from within her. The spearhead was strange, more tapered. The shaft was made of a wood he had never seen before. Something that didn’t grow along the coast this far north. He laid his kill on the ground beside the tent, then dragged his adoptive mother outside. For three days he worked, making funeral platforms for his friends and relatives one by one. He never found his sisters, or anyone his age. Only the grown-ups, or the women who had strong wills and would resist. He did, however, find a few of the enemy, lying with his people’s spears in their chests, or with faces smashed by his people’s clubs. Hair Like Sunshine memorized their pinched faces, the way their clothing looked, the appearance of their weapons, whatever he could learn from looking at the corpses. He would need that information when he took his revenge.

He buried the enemy warriors. The corpses were still fresh. Their souls would be trapped beneath the ground for all eternity. As a final spite before he covered the enemy warriors, he spit in their faces. The markings on the spears possessed by one of them matched exactly the markings on the spear he had pulled from his mother’s body.

“So, it is you who have doomed your people to extinction.” he said to the dead man. “Let that rest on your conscience for all eternity, if you have one.” He moved the flap of his loincloth aside and urinated on the man. “Know that when your people die, they will be buried in the earth, their weapons broken, unable to hunt in the afterworld. And you will be to blame for it all.” He made sure to get some urine on the man’s face before he finished and buried him. He took the weapons of the four enemy warriors and broke each of them, except the one which had come from his mother. This one he would keep. He would make the opening strike with this spear. The sight of one of their own spears would confuse the enemy for a few vital seconds. He packed everything he could carry that he thought he might need and set off, following the enemy’s trail.

Meadow Vole and Field Mouse followed behind their father. These pinch-faced invaders had driven a great many peoples from their homes. Even the Serpent People were not immune to their surprise attacks. For some reason, they had come north and then turned east, driven as if by a vision of greatness. Meadow Vole saw the scout before Field Mouse.

“My Chief,” began the scout, trying to catch his breath, “we’ve spotted someone heading in our direction.”

“Be a little more specific, Black Crow.” said their father.

“An odd-looking boy, My Chief.” Black Crow said. “Not one of the invaders. He was dressed in the way of the West Ocean People.”

“How old would you say the boy is?”

“Around eight summers, carrying a doe on his back.”

“How far?”

“About half a day away, but he’s moving fast for one so young with such a burden. We should meet up before nightfall.”

“Good. Nettle Woman still remembers the language of the West Ocean People. Take her with you to translate. Take two others to help the boy with his burden. Let him know that we wish to be friends.”

“As you wish, My Chief.” Black Crow said. After all, who would dare argue with Chief Two Bears?

Hair Like Sunshine stopped. He had heard a noise ahead of him. He took cover behind a tree. A woman and three men came around a bend in the trail. Another man dropped from the trees a little further down the trail. They said something to one another, and the woman turned her eyes in his direction.

“Ho-yeh, young one.” she said in his language. “I am of your People, too. My name is Nettle Woman among the Serpent People, but I was born Heron.” Hair Like Sunshine knew that name. His adoptive cousin’s stepsister’s aunt had married into another tribe, and her name had been Heron. She seemed to match his vague, cloudy memories of that long-ago time, though she was somewhat older. The face may have been fuzzy, but if he remembered correctly, it had been Heron who had possessed the crushing embrace that took one’s breath away.

“Aunt Heron?” he asked, reluctant to leave his hiding place.

“From the scout’s description, I take it you are the boy that Morning Star adopted...Hair Like Sunshine.” Hair Like Sunshine emerged. An enemy wouldn’t know his mother. Heron approached him carefully, arms outstretched so he could tell she had no knife. “By the spirits, boy, your eyes have become so striking! If I believed it were possible, I’d say they’d gotten even bluer since the last time I saw you.” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly in the embrace that removed any doubt from Hair Like Sunshine’s mind that this was indeed his twice-removed Aunt Heron. “Why don’t you tell me what happened, dear boy?” Hair Like Sunshine recounted his story as best he could. Heron then relayed it to the strange men in their language. The man who had been leading the team which had come with the woman said something to her. “Black Crow says you have done the world a great service by trapping those enemy spirits in the ground.” Heron said. “And when the time comes, you will have the opportunity to take your revenge, along with the rest of us who have lost friends and relatives to the pinch-faced enemy. Now come. You must be tired. My husband’s brother will carry your things, and you can rest in my arms on the way to the camp.”

“Thank you for the offer.” Hair Like Sunshine said. “But I need no help.” He started off down the trail again, proudly carrying his burden as if it were nothing.

“There is Power in this boy.” said Dancing Shadow. As the Serpent People’s most powerful medicine woman in living memory, despite her tender twenty years of age, Dancing Shadow’s reputation was comparable to that of the chief—who had often tried to bed her to enhance his own reputation, with no success. The eight-year-old foreigner before her seemed to be trying to work out what she was saying. “The Power seems to center around his eyes, though it’s difficult to tell what precisely it is.”

“The Chief wants me to teach him to speak as we do.” said Nettle Woman.

“Of course.” said Dancing Shadow. “Young Blue Eyes should learn quickly. There’s an intelligence and a burning eagerness here unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I think your husband would be proud to have such a boy living at his lodge.”

“I understand.” Nettle Woman said, looking with pride upon her young nephew, the youngest in living memory to earn his man-name.

The hunting party returned to the village, victorious once again. Each hunter carried an elk on his back. Everyone knew that Blue Eyes had a Power, but no one was sure what it was. Dancing Shadow had been very mysterious about it...but then, medicine men and women generally were. They figured his eyes had some kind of power that allowed him to learn quickly, because Blue Eyes was as skilled a hunter as a man twice his age. As the fifteen-year-old returned to the tent he shared with Nettle Woman and her family, he was cheered on by several of the other villagers. The hunting party never failed when he was among them. He was fast as well, faster than any other man in the village. Some had speculated that Blue Eyes’ Power was the ability to use the Spirit Power of animals he had seen, because he ran like Elk, climbed like Squirrel, stalked like Bobcat, could speak many languages like Mockingbird, and was as clever as Coyote. No one suspected the true nature of his Power. Granted, his skills were amazing, but they were merely skills, a result of Blue Eyes’ knife-keen determination. When the meat was properly cut up and dried at the end of the day, Blue Eyes went to the woods outside the village. Dancing Shadow was waiting for him. The twenty-seven-year-old woman was his teacher in more subjects than the village knew.

“Look into my eyes, Dancing Shadow.” Blue Eyes said. “There is Power in these eyes. You yourself first noticed it. You enjoy feeling me use this Power on you, relaxing you, making you more and more open to what I say. You feel my eyes pulling at your soul, claiming it, making it mine. You are mine, Dancing Shadow. You know this and accept this. It is the path your life has taken, Dancing Shadow, and you know better than to try and resist.” She gazed blankly into his eyes, and Blue Eyes smiled. “Take off that pretty doeskin dress, Dancing Shadow.” he commanded. She complied. She was already aroused due to her own helplessness. He sat her on the dress and started to lean her back. He kissed her, and she returned the kiss with a passion equal to his own. He removed his hunting shirt, which was quickly followed by the moccasins and the leggings. He dropped his loincloth to the ground and inserted himself in her waiting slit. She sighed as he entered her. Her passion increased as he continued their evening ritual. Only when she felt his seed flow into her body did she orgasm, and Blue Eyes covered her screams of pleasure with his mouth. “Well done, Dancing Shadow.” said Blue Eyes. “Now I shall allow you to think and act as you would were you not my possession, but know this: you are mine for as long as we both shall live.”

“Yes, Blue Eyes.” Dancing Shadow said. She put her dress back on, then kissed Blue Eyes passionately. “You don’t have to seize control of me whenever you bed me, Blue Eyes.” she said. “Even when acting on my own, I could never resist the desire to come to you.”

“But how else would I get to practice?” Blue Eyes asked with a wry grin.

“It is possible to keep several wives. Many in the village have two or more.” Dancing Shadow said.

“I knew that was the custom of the coastal peoples, but I didn’t think the Serpent People held a similar custom.”

“Yes, but the women here are generally good enough that the men don’t feel the need to take a second wife.” Dancing Shadow replied. “Something troubles you. What is it?”

“While we were hunting, we came upon the remains of an enemy village.”

“Someone sacked their village for a change?” Dancing Shadow asked with a smile.

“I wish.” Blue Eyes said. “No, they just moved on. They took a trail that leads north and east to Monster Bone Springs before it curves back south and east and cuts back into our territory to the east of here.” The pinch-faced enemy had always been a touchy subject for him. Even now Dancing Shadow could see the smoldering in his eyes. She decided to change the subject.

“Blue Eyes, there is something I wish to tell you.”

“Go on.” Blue Eyes said.

“I believe I may be...with child.” she said.

“This means that we could get married soon.” Blue Eyes said. Among the Serpent People, the bearing of children was of highest priority, and a woman was forbidden from marrying until she had given birth and thus proven that she was capable of bringing a child into the world.

“Yes, Blue Eyes.” she said. “And your prestige would increase dramatically. The man who seduced and fathered a child from a Spirit Woman.” Blue Eyes chuckled.

“Do you think prestige matters that much to me?” Blue Eyes asked. “It’s you I care about. You, as a person, matter to me.” He kissed her. “I care about people, not prestige.” She smiled and blushed. He always seemed to know just what to say to melt her heart.

“I love you.” she said. He kissed her again, and she returned the kiss, the passion from their lovemaking undiminished. “Field Mouse has been hiding from the men since she first came out of the menstrual lodge, keeping herself where lots of people are watching when she is doing her chores, never allowing herself to be alone with a man.”

“Is she afraid?”

“Perhaps.” Dancing Shadow said. “What frightens her family is that she is older than you are. Can you help her?”

“I will do what I can.” Blue Eyes said.

The River Mouth People clustered around the delta of the Father Water. One particular tribe had something of a problem. The chief’s daughter was the independent type, who went out fishing whenever someone was in the village looking for a wife. She was more beautiful than anyone else in the village, and the men who came early tried to win her, but always failed, and so they went home disappointed, preferring to go home empty-handed rather than take a second-class wife. And so the tribe had trouble getting an alliance-marriage. But Dolphin Girl didn’t care. She took great pride in her swimming ability—she could out swim anyone she knew, and in clear water could spear fish with greater accuracy, too. She was the primary food-bringer for her mother and her nieces since her sister and brother-in-law had died in a squall when the girls were infants. The children barely remembered their parents. Dolphin Girl loved them as if they were her own.

Then came the day strange-looking, pinch-faced warriors came down from the north asking in sign language to Trade. This seemed strange to the River Mouth People, who generally Traded with Traders. The special Power which protected Traders and brought them luck and skill in their transactions was part of what made them Traders. The Trader’s Staff came to them in their dreams and taught them how to make it. It was the focal point for their power. Those who harmed Traders or encroached on their profession generally suffered. But the strangers wished to form an alliance, and they were very strong warriors, which made an alliance extremely beneficial, and if whatever Power protected Traders got angry, it would be the warriors who suffered, not the River Mouth People, so they decided to Trade. The warriors brought copper ear-spools, plates, chert pendants, and riches of all types. In return, they asked for various goods, including seed corn, dried fish, whalebone carvings...and a wife for their chief. Before she could get out on another fishing expedition, Dolphin Girl found herself sitting in the canoe of the pinch-faced warriors, using a sack of her people’s seed corn as a seat.

Field Mouse was quite beautiful, which made it quite a tragedy that she had refused all the men who had tried to bed her. Blue Eyes and Dancing Shadow walked together to her family’s tent. Field Mouse was inside with her mother, both topless in the afternoon heat. She moved behind her mother when she saw Blue Eyes.

“It is alright.” Dancing Shadow said. “We are here to help.”

“Are you?” Field Mouse’s mother asked.

“Field Mouse has a...problem, which I believe Blue Eyes’ special Power can help with.” Dancing Shadow said. “We will need to be alone with her. If you will please allow us to take her someplace where others will not interfere, we can solve her problem and her life can be better.”

“What problem?” Field Mouse asked. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Denial.” Blue Eyes muttered. “Never a good sign.”

“I will have to talk it over with my husband, but I’m sure he’ll agree.” said Field Mouse’s mother.

“By all means.” Blue Eyes said, moving aside so she could pass. Soon enough, the Chief ducked through the door flap.

“Blue Eyes, Dancing Shadow, if you can help my daughter, I would appreciate it greatly.”

“But Father, I...”

“Silence.” the Chief snapped.

“Chief Two Bears, anger is not necessary.” Blue Eyes said. “We only need a sweat lodge, someplace out of earshot of the village.”

“As you wish.” the Chief replied. “Would you like me to gather some of the young men to build the lodge, or would you prefer to do it yourselves?”

“Just an ordinary sweat lodge will do, My Chief.” Blue Eyes said. “And make certain there’s no eavesdropping.”

“Of course.” the Chief said. Blue Eyes knew Chief Two Bears, and he knew that the man had a healthy respect for Spirit Power. He would make sure everyone was present and accounted for while Blue Eyes and Dancing Shadow helped his daughter, and wouldn’t even ask why.

Blue Eyes poured water over the hot rocks in the sweat lodge. He had given Field Mouse a horn bowl with tea in it made from various Spirit Plants that relaxed the body and the mind, and made her more susceptible to his Power. Sweat ran down their naked bodies as they sat in the lodge. Wet sage leaves added their scent to the lodge, covering the smell of their sweat. Blue Eyes could see the Spirit Plant tea was working. Now it was time to begin her...therapy.

“Look into my eyes, Field Mouse.” he said. “There is Power in these eyes. You can feel it, can’t you? The Power in my eyes is reaching into your mind, into your soul, relaxing it, making it mine. You enjoy feeling me use this Power on you, relaxing you, making you more and more open to what I say. You feel my eyes pulling at your soul, claiming it, making it mine. You are mine, Field Mouse. You know this and accept this. It is the path your life has taken, Field Mouse, and you know better than to try and resist.” Soon enough, he knew she was helpless to resist him. “You are helpless against me, Field Mouse. Helpless to resist anything I say. But it’s okay because you can trust me. You know I don’t intend to hurt you. I want to help you, Field Mouse, but to do that I need your complete trust. Do you trust me, Field Mouse?”

“Yes.” she said flatly.

“Good. Come with me, Field Mouse.” He opened the door flap and walked outside, stepping out onto one of the woven mats that Dancing Shadow had laid out so that they wouldn’t have to step onto the dirt as they went to the other lodge she had erected. Field Mouse stepped onto the mat, standing beside him, her deeply entranced mind not even registering the cool wind as it blew across their sweaty bodies. Field Mouse’s body was very aroused, what was left of her mind responding to her helplessness. He let the wind dry them off before he moved on. She followed him, her face blank and expressionless. He held open the door%20flap for her as she went in. “Lie down, Field Mouse.” he said. She complied, her perky young breasts pointing toward the ceiling. He kissed her passionately. She was slow to respond, but when she did she mirrored his passion. He began to massage her chest, gently playing with her breasts as he built up her arousal as much as he could. She was very wet, so despite her tightness, he was easily able to slide into her until he encountered her hymen. He worked gently, stretching her until he felt she was ready. She cried out in ecstasy as he began to thrust into her. His gentleness had prevented her loss of virginity from being painful. Her body thrashed as she orgasmed for the first time, crying out in ecstasy. Just as she was coming down from that one, she began to build toward another. She shuddered and screamed a second time, then started building again. He stiffened as she began to tighten up for her third orgasm. When they finished, he slid out of her, and she moaned at the loss. Now to do the same thing to her that he had done to Dancing Shadow after their first night together. “Remember this night, Field Mouse.” he said. “You will relive it every night in your dreams. Whenever I touch your backside, or bite your nipples, you will have an orgasm just like the ones you had tonight. And remember this, Field Mouse: You are mine for as long as we both shall live. I will reiterate this for you every time we are together. You are mine. You will always be mine. Your mind and body and heart and soul belong to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Field Mouse replied.

“Now, Field Mouse, I will allow you to think and act once more as if you were not my possession. But you must never forget the Power my eyes have over you.”

“Never...forget.” she said, blinking her eyes. She smiled up at Blue Eyes, sighing happily.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Hmmm...wonderful.” she sighed, as the feeling of well-being which accompanied orgasm took possession of her. He kissed her, and she returned it passionately. She grabbed his penis and began to massage it with her hand. She managed to get him hard again and guided it to her opening. “Take me again.” she pleaded.

Chief Two Bears pulled Blue Eyes aside. His face was unreadable. Blue Eyes prepared himself for anything.

“Blue Eyes, what you have done for my daughter is amazing.” he said. “I haven’t seen her this happy in quite some time. I want to thank you.” He hefted something out of his tent. In his hands was a piece of copper plate the size of a rabbit. Such a thing would buy a Trader’s entire pack, plus two of his dogs, maybe three if someone were skilled at haggling.

“Sir, I acted only out of concern for a member of the village which has given me a home for the past seven years. I can’t take so valuable a Trade good from you.”

“You have earned it, my friend.” Two Bears said. “My daughter’s happiness means the world to me. It gladdens my heart to see her humming so happily as she goes about her business, to see her no longer making excuses not to be alone with a man, to see her skipping happily from place to place, to see her happily playing with the young men, teasing them and flirting with them and making them want her more and more, like a young woman should.”

“All I did was take away the dark fear that held her back.” Blue Eyes said.

“And in so doing, you have given her back her life.” Two Bears said, putting the copper plate in Blue Eyes’ hands. “Take it, Blue Eyes. It is well deserved.” Then he did something Blue Eyes had never heard of him doing. He wrapped his arms around Blue Eyes and hugged him.

“Sir, I don’t know what to say.” Blue Eyes said.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Two Bears replied. With that, he walked off to take care of other business.

The Trader known as Six Beavers allowed himself a moment of relaxation. His canoe, The Fox of the River, had been scraped of moss, waxed, treated for insect encroachments, and waxed again. She was ready to go back into her river home as soon as Six Beavers was ready to leave. He admired the fox-head prow which he had added so that she would be clever enough to know the river’s tricks, and the keel—a trick he had picked up from the salt-water Traders in the south, which allowed it to stay straight in the water unless he WANTED to turn, and it also caused his boat to cant over to the side when it was on land. It was large as canoes go, but Six Beavers’ Trading range was vast, and he had to carry many goods up and downriver. He glanced up and caught sight of six canoes being paddled upriver by four warriors each. A woman from the River Mouth People sat in the front of the lead canoe. She glanced to the shore and looked at him. The expression in her eyes was one of pleading.

“What is wrong, my husband?” asked Chipmunk, Six Beavers’ wife. He didn’t respond, and she followed his gaze to the river and gasped. “What do we do?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.”

Blue Eyes had let Field Mouse go home after their latest sex tryst while he relaxed by the lake. Life was good. Nobody suspected that he and Field Mouse were slipping off into the bushes together. Blue Eyes allowed his mind to drift. He was feeling good, and watched a pair of deer drink at the lake. The acrid smell of smoke broke him out of his reverie. It was coming from the village, and there was too much for it to be the normal campfires. He got up and rushed back to the village. He found the tents burning. Dead bodies lay strewn everywhere.

No! he thought. Not again! He charged into the village, ready to fight. His enemy was gone. But not by much. Two of them lay on the ground with spears sticking out of their chests. They were still alive. He could still catch his enemies if her hurried. But first things first. He dug a shallow pit and shoved the two still-living enemy warriors in, then covered them with dirt. They screamed and cried out in their language as he buried them alive. He kept their tools and weapons. He would need them. He grabbed his pack, which he kept hidden in the woods, and his family’s hidden supply of food, and set off.