The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

London England: 1754

And now Mordred sat on Lord Hillsboro’s chair, gazing at Maria and Lissette with lazy, half lidded eyes, the final part of his play ready to be acted out. Sadly it was almost time for him to return to his sleep and now the curtain had to come down on his play. His eyes traveled slowly over each naked beauty, their blank, serene faces, their chests, inviting stomachs and four small bare feet at the end of long legs.

Lissette was only twenty one, two years older than Maria. She had been Maria’s servant since she was eleven. She had lost her parents at that age and Maria’s father had brought her in from an orphanage to take care of his daughter and to be her friend. It had worked beyond his wildest dreams. They had grown close over years, more like sisters than mistress and maid. Their love for each other had grown full and deep and they shared dreams and secrets with each other as only the closest of friends could.

But now, thanks to Mordred, they were closer than they or anyone else could ever have imagined. The two girls were locked into each other’s gazes; gentle, empty eyes staring; soft knowing smiles curling the corners of their young, full lips. Maria was slowly, sensually kneading Lissette’s bare, tiny feet with her lovely, small, girlish hands.

“Lissette,” he said softly.

“Yes! Mordred,” Lissette responded, her face turning to him like a whiplash, her voice almost desperate.

“How do you feel about Maria?”

Lissette drew in a soft, deep breath, her bare white breast mounds expanding out. Her eye lids shut slowly, languidly, her dark lashes sitting so prettily on her alabaster cheeks. Her head rose, tilted up on an angle, facing the ceiling, as though in the throes of a most pleasant dream, exposing the full beauty of her long, graceful neck.

“I love her so. I have loved her since the day we met.” She licked her wet pink lips and gently tossed her hair. She giggled softly and words purred from that lovely neck. “I like…….to do things to her. And she likes to do things to me.”

Mordred smiled and chuckled. The sound of it in contrast to Lissette’s voice was dead, merciless and portentous.

“Maria’s feet are exquisite, are they not?” he urged.

Lissette, gasped slightly and began to massage again, but her eyes did not leave Mordred’s. Maria broke out in an expectant grin, so empty, so gorgeous on her lips, devoid of any emotion but lust and desire and the searing need to obey command.

“Look at them,” purred Mordred. “So small and dainty, the skin so pale and smooth and silky. Look at how the arches curve, so invitingly, as though made for sweet kisses. They are like the gateway to the rest her body, are they not, Lissette?”

“Yes,” murmured Lissette, gazing at Maria’s naked feet, so totally succulent looking in her hands. They felt so good to hold, so warm and silky, so perfectly natural to be touched and kneaded with loving attention.

Lissette’s face flushed, her white skin turning pink. Her chest began to heave, matching Maria’s breasts, breath for breath, rising and falling, as she too began to pant. Mordred smiled as he watching their hungry, passionate synchronicity. Lissette’s breasts were pale, larger, with small pink nipples. Maria’s breasts a couple sizes smaller, her larger nipples surrounded by darker skin. The one thing in common to both was all four nipples were jutting out, reaching out and eager for female touch, engorged with burning hot young women’s blood. The smell of sex was in the air.

“So perfect, no?” prodded Mordred, fanning her desire like a white hot flame.

Lissette’s lovely mouth was slightly open, as though she could not get enough air through her mouth now; the tips of her white teeth rimmed by her moist lips.

She nodded slowly, besotted by a fog. “Yes, so very perfect,” she husked out between breaths as her, big, round, wondering eyes, showing Mordred’s total enchantment and control were now glued to the naked foot of her friend and newborn lover in her hand.

To Lissette Maria’s foot seemed like a warm, living trophy that she now claimed as her own possession. It seemed the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. so perfect….so totally perfect…a sexy trophy...and mine to do with as I wish…

“Clean them for Maria. You know she would love that. Clean them with your tongue.” commanded Mordred with an imploring, knowing voice.

She would! Yes Maria would so very much love it if I cleaned her feet. Worship it with my face, my mouth, my tongue. Lissette wondering why the idea had never occurred to her before.

Maria also smiled at the new thought that took root in her mind. The very same delightful tongue that had been in her mouth and cunny so many times. Oh yes! I would love to watch Lissette clean my feet with her pretty, pink wet tongue. It would feel....so....naughty and nice.

“Think of it Lissette. Maria’s small, beautiful feet against your tongue, rubbing against your ripe lips. Does it not make your young heart race out of all control?” inquired Mordred smoothly.

Oh god yes! I want to clean them with my tongue. I’ve always wanted to clean Maria’s perfect, beautiful feet with my wet tongue. My wicked greedy tongue all over her pretty foot like an evil snake searching for helpless, pretty prey.

Lissette’s heart was pounding in her chest like one of those horses she saw at the track, spurred on by the drivers whip. That’s just how she felt, like one of those strong, young pretty horses driven hard under the merciless, cruel whip, broken by its skillful application. I love being under the whip. I love feeling it on my arse and in my mind, making me go faster and faster till I am out of breath! I love how the whip has broken me.And she loved beyond measure that Mordred was the whip hand. He knew exactly how to wield it, how to make her mind and body respond to it exactly as he wanted and how to break her unutterably. She giggled, shocked at how well Mordred knew her inner self and all the delicious things she desired. Her male lover seemed to know her better than she knew herself.

Lissette raised Maria’s foot near her red waiting lips, then hesitated and gave Maria a coy look. Maria could feel her lover’s warm breath on her foot and moaned with a combination of expectation and frustration. Her tiny toes looked so cute as they involuntarily spasmed open, each one spreading wide from the other then coming back and clenching together. Delicious chills ran up her leg and spin with every breath Lissette expelled on her foot. Her pussy was trembling and engorged with blood. Her entire leg was quivering like a tight, live wire touched hard.

Then Lissette gave her sweet release. She ran Maria’s bare foot on her neck, then on her hot, soft, smooth cheek. She rubbed her nose gently along the side of it, breathing in passionate and deep. She looked at Maria and smiled, then licked her red lips, moistening them just so. Maria gasped and shuddered in anticipation, her mouth quirking involuntarily. Lissette slowly slid her pink tongue out of her rose bud mouth as though it were the sinuous wet snake she imaged and waited the longest time, so close to that foot, drawing out Maria’s exquisite agony, enjoying the full effect she was having on her. Finally, finally after what to Maria seemed an eternity she gave the side of Maria’s arch a long, wet lick, all the while impaling Maria’s blue eyes with her dark brown ones. It seemed to take forever for Lissette to work her way all up the entire arch. When done Lissette finished the act with a warm, moist, sucking kiss just at the end of the arch of Maria’s now glistening foot.

The wet sensual contact of Lissette’s practiced tongue and plump, inviting lips with her sensitive foot was too much. Maria arched her back and shuddered uncontrollably as she came with a high pitched growl of release.

Lissette moved the foot closer to her yet again and opened her mouth in a sly, playful manner. She leaned in, her eyes smiling with portent of pleasures to come and wrapped her lips around Maria’s toes. “Oh god, of god, ohhhh god!” Maria spat out, half groan, half mewling sound. The nerves in her back ran wild, making Maria arch backwards.

Wildfire burned in his eyes as he could feel himself absorbing their sexual passions. He could feel his control over his two angels expand. But it was only one side of the coin he was to collect this night. Soon he would flip that coin and grab the other emotion that fed him.

Lissette slowly started to suck Maria’s big toe inside her sweet cherry lips. Her toe disappeared bit by tiny bit into the greedy wet hole that was now giving Maria unbearable pleasure. Mordred could feel his total control over Lissette, driving the young girl to this obsession that ruled her mind to the exclusion of all else. Lissette’s head bobbed slightly as she suckled and licked the toes of Maria’s foot that shined in Lissette’s delicate hand from the salvia that coated it. To Mordred Lissette resembled a young girl now exposed to the secrets of a woman’s pleasures, greedily sucking on a cock for the first time. For Mordred this sight was impossibly erotic and his cock hardened to fine steel as he watched.

“Ahhhhhhhh fuck!” Maria shouted as she came again, much harder this time. Stars exploded in her eyes and her torso shot forward into Lissette’s waiting arms. She felt the warm fluid of her pussy expel right onto Lissette’s own hot cunt as they were touching one another. Both girls thrust their hips together, rubbing their moist, shiny pussies together, moaning and wiggling, pussy to pussy, warm sweat slick breast to warm sweat slick breast. Soon they were kissing and licking everywhere: their lips, their faces, their necks, their breasts, making animal noises of unbridled passion let loose in full measure. The two young girls looked so wild, so untamed, so animalistic, so mindless, so amazing beautiful. They were exactly what Mordred had shaped them into over the months. In moments Lissette had a massive orgasm to follow Maria’s.

Mordred leaned back in Lord Hillsboro’s chair, the charge of sexual emotion, so burning hot, so inexorably powerful from these two hyper charged young girls hit him with a swirling force that rocked him to his bones. He could feel himself filling up with their essence and the more he took from the two the less of them remained. If the process was repeated for weeks, they would become mindless facsimiles of themselves, only thinking what he desired and acting strictly on his wishes with no concern’s or wants of their own. Both Lissette and Maria were far down that road already. Neither really had any ideas or thoughts now that were not first strained through their mental colander of whether it would please Mordred.

The girls had filled his psychic reserve to the brim but his body too needed sustenance to sustain him for his long slumber. He instinctively knew if went to sleep undernourished he would never open his eyes to a new world again.

“Come, attend to me my beauties,” he murmured, with half lidded eyes. He still felt so high. But nothing could match the exquisite feeling of the sharing of blood, not for him nor his thralls. And blood he would have this night.

There would be so much blood tonight.

Each girl cuddled up on each side of him, sitting on his legs, resting their heads on his chest like happy kittens, running their hands over his chest and cheeks, gazing at him like he was some kind of god.

There was no question in his mind how he would play this last act out. It was a tragedy after all and it was Maria’s family starring in it.

He turned his unworldly handsome face to Lissette. “You love Maria so very much, don’t you my pet?”

As her large pretty eyes met his they actually dilated, so deep were his claws anchored into her open mind now, so intense was her love and devotion to him.

“Oh yes, I love her so. She is so warm and wet and pretty.” Lissette licked her lips and giggled girlishly. “And so...wicked.”

Maria tossed her silky hair in a coquettish manner. “I am wicked,” she said proudly. “Because you have made me so.”

Mordred nodded. “She speaks truth, no doubt. So much so that while she has made sweet love to you, professing her wildest devotion she has been cheating on you as though you were a stupid strumpet.”

This bothered Lissette not at all; conversely it interested her and made her curious.

She gazed at Maria with big eyes, dark, sexual intent glittering. “Really now, Maria? And who may your trysts be with? Come now, share with a sweet, loving sister. I wish you to….share all. It could prove yet more fun.” She giggled again, her tone insatiable.

Mordred took Lissette’s face in his hand and turned her eyes to his.

“It was her father. They fornicated night after night, driving the Lady of the house mad.”

Lissette rolled her eyes in amusement. “Ahhhh, so that was what drove the tired old boring hag to the nut hatch. I wondered what got up her big fat skirt. But it wasn’t her skirt that was getting something up it now, was it dear?” she said with delight to Maria. “Such a shame he put a bullet in his head. We could have fun with him together had you told me.”

Mordred marveled at Lissette’s amusement and callous disregard for Elizabeth Hillsboro, a woman who had taken her in, treated her almost as a daughter and changed the trajectory of her life. Elizabeth had in fact most likely saved Lissette from a brutally hard existence and early end. His corruption of her mind, her thoughts and ideas, her very feelings were so strong in the adorable young woman. He was so good at what he did to people and with every awakening he was getting better and better at it. He sighed in satisfaction.

Mordred raised his hand a gleaming knife was held between his fingers. It was the magnificent knife Tepes had given him.

He waved it slowly, like a cobra snake in front of Lissette’s blank, placid eyes. The reflection from the fireplace caught the polished steel and made it gleam. Lissette’s eyes and head turned slowly, like a doll, to watch the knife sway, back and forth, back and forth.

Mordred reached out with his other strong hand and tenderly began running his long fingers through Lissette’s lustrous brown hair. She shivered at his mere touch.

“You love Maria, it is true. But her betrayal is beyond any pale you can survive. She has mocked you, ripped your heart out as if by her very own hand and treated you as the useless, homeless servant you always were to her. She never once bid you true feelings, she only used your body to satisfy her wicked desires. Let us hear it from her very mouth.”

Mordred turned to Maria, his eyes captivating her, her eyes growing wide as saucers. He could feel his mental connect with her, feel her very thoughts changing, adapting his desires and emotions as her own, completely unbeknownst to her. He loved to warp and shift his thralls thoughts and feelings this way and that, flipping them upside down in an instant and now doing it with two girls he felt a supreme sense of command and intense pleasure.

Suddenly Maria’s pretty lips curled up in a haughty, indolent sneer. When she spoke her formally sweet voice was harsh and rippled with cold reflections of her new reality.

“All Mordred says is true. Did you honestly think you could ever mean a shite to me? I am the daughter of a lord, you but a pathetic orphan. If you weren’t as pretty as you are my family would not have given you but a parting glance and laugh. All I ever wanted was to use your body to my pleasure. You could break your neck tomorrow and I would rather feed you to the dogs out back then pay even a single pence to have your hole dug or stone erected. Who would even come to your funeral?”

Maria laughed, cruel and heartless. “You are nothing but a common whore. You know it well sweet Lissette. Just look at how you prostitute yourself so brazenly,” Maria spat, her eyes roaming up and down Lissette’s naked form.

Mordred turned to Lissette. He could feel her new sense of self forming, his thoughts now becoming hers. It was beautiful to watch, to see both woman absorb these new powerful emotions, to see their perceptions and personalities become so warped as he flipped the other side of the coin so adeptly to get the potent food he desired.

Lissette felt tears run down her face. She realized her life had been nothing but a sham. She was just a fodder for the Lords of Hillsboro. She was their plaything, something to laugh at and use and discard at a whim. She would never have a life of her own, as promised so often by the Hillsboro’s and especially Maria. She had had visions of meeting young men with Maria, being introduced to them, going to learning and finishing school with Maria, the two friends always together in adventures as they grew. In the back of her mind it seemed some of this had happened even. There had been parties, her and Maria, meeting eligible handsome young men. She had worn lovely clothes to these events purchased by the Hillsboro’s. And for a moment she could swear being taught with Maria, both of them learning and laughing and enjoying their lessons together. A chance at a nice life had seemed so close….until Maria has started seeing Mordred. Then things seemed to change so quickly and her previous life, so happy and adventurous and open to all possibilities seemed to fade away likes a dark misty dream.

Lissette shook her head. No. It was all just a crazy fool’s fantasy. She was an orphan, a servant, the lowest of the low, unloved and unwanted since her parents died. No one besides Mordred had ever given a single care about her. She never had a chance at any kind of decent life at all. How stupid of her to even dream of it.

And deep inside she knew she was worse. She understood exactly what she was. It was just as Maria stated. How could I have meant anything the Hillsboros, to Maria? I’m just a common whore, an orphan tramp to jump at their beck and call, to be the object of their derision. What value do I possess except my body, to give pleasure at my superior’s whims and fancies? What a foolish, simple girl I was to delude myself into thinking anyone would care for me.

Lissette felt the roar of hate and despair well up in her like water from new dug well. The fury for being fooled, for fooling herself, for letting this aristocratic family destroy her life and treat her no better than discarded refuse dumped in the Thames.

And now Mordred received his full bounty as he felt her hate flowing directly from her to him. That fierce, powerful other side of the coin, from lust and sexual ecstasy that he flipped so easily in his victims, without effort to feed him to full. He felt that hate filling him with a different kind of power and strength than had been the case just a few minutes ago when the girls were making love. But this was still just the appetizer; he wanted the full course meal.

Mordred handed Lissette the knife, squeezing her hand tightly around it. She looked at him, his countenance filled with a stark sadness and regret, his act so well done it would have done David Garrick proud. She understood he knew best, he always did. Mordred had always been a special friend to her since the day Maria had introduced him. He had been her one true touchstone in life, the only person who had not mocked and used her, the one person with her best interests at heart, the one honest person who always told her the unvarnished truth just as he was now.

He ran his hand gently along her cheek, so caring, so gentle. “Above all, this is a tragedy playing out before us Lissette. No happy endings here. You haven’t the reserves to overcome this horror perpetrated on you, the damage done to your heart and soul. You are but a whore without the will or intellect to survive this. There is no coming back from this…..you are too weak of mind. It breaks my heart to say it but I cannot lie to my special friend. You understand that, don’t you?”

Lissette nodded like some kind of automation. She felt so bad for Mordred, to see him in such pain. She would do anything to take that agony from him. “Yes, Mordred, I am too weak of mind. I am just a whore without the will or intellect to survive this,” the gorgeous young girl whispered back with sad certitude.

He gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. “That’s it Lissette. It is so important for each of us to know our true selves. It makes life so much simpler. You know what you are, no?”

She nodded like her neck was made of rubber, up and down, up and down, her wide eyes glazed and blinking. “Yes, I know. A mindless whore. I’ve always been a mindless whore. I can only obey and do what I am told.”

Mordred nodded watching her closely. He wanted to see if she knew the lessons he had taught. His smile grew so very wide with his next words. “And tell me Lissette, how do you know these truths about yourself?”

Now she smiled back. “Because you told me…you…showed me who I really am.”

He continued his interrogatory programming. “And why is that so important, so meaningful and so indicative of the truth?” He was determined to see if Lissette had completely learned her lessons.

Lissette closed her eyes and let out a soft, happy sigh. “Because I am nothing and you are the dominate species.”

“Yes! Oh yes, Lissette. You understand your reality perfectly. You are such a good girl.”

The words echoed in her mind: Good girl, good girl, good girl. Lissette let out a moan. She felt so at peace so happy, so aroused to have pleased her god.

Mordred continued to the logical conclusion, to where he was driving the bedazzled young woman, totally confident in the result he wanted. “Now do what must be done. It can end only one way now. The path is so clear, is it not sweet child? Revenge Lissette. Sweet revenge must be had. There is nothing better than revenge.”

Once again her dear friend was there for her now in her greatest moment of need and despair. Showing her the way, giving her direction, filling her with the answers she could not come up with herself. She was stunned at the sacrifices he was willing to make for her. Her heart was breaking, in part because of Maria’s betrayal of her but even more so for the pain she had put Mordred in. As she stared into his cold, hard, pitiless black eyes she knew her love for him was endless as the far horizon just as his was for her. This man was even willing to sacrifice his bride to avenge the wrongs she had perpetrated on Lissette. Mordred’s love for her was so boundless it beyond imagining. It was inhuman. She marveled at his bravery and courage. How could she ever repay him? I would do anything for him! Just a he would do anything for me.

And other thoughts dominated her mind. I am weak. Too weak of mind to come back from this. Just a common whore with no strength at all. Mordred knows my mind and heart so well. He always tells me what is best, what I cannot work out for myself.

She nodded, but without conviction. She hesitated, staring at the knife as though it were some vile poison. Even now some old vestige of the real Lissette was still holding back. Her grip on the knife was soft, tentative. There just seemed something off about all this and her sluggish mind kept trying to work it out. If she could just have a few moments to think and be by herself she was sure she could find the answer. Mordred could see all this, her determined fight to keep herself from doing something so horrific to her long time best friend despite his control over her thoughts. Her real love for Maria was so very strong. The love of their friendship formed over so many years. He leapt to the challenge immediately, excited by her desperate resistance.

He reached out and ran his finger over her lips. “Do not worry yourself with vague doubts or recriminations my love, they just hold you back. Let your hate guide you to sweet revenge for the betrayal that has broken you.”

He flipped his hand gracefully towards Maria. “Maria understands fully. She knows how this must end. She welcomes it with all of her being. Let her assuage your troubles for she is aware of the truth, of the horrible things she did to you.”

Mordred gave Maria a knowing cat’s grin and a small shrug. It all seemed to say, You convince her. I tried my best but she needs a little push.

Maria sneered at Lissette. When she spoke it was with a cold, derisive upper crust timber that he had never heard Maria use. She was truly a fine pupil in carrying out her instructions. “Mordred is right. This is a tragedy. It can only end in that manner. Do what must be done you pathetic whore. Must I take your hand and move it myself? Are you so weak, so ineffectual you cannot even avenge the wrongs I have so gladly inflicted on you? You really are pathetic. What a sad, shallow seed must have produced the likes of you! No wonder your mum spit you out from between her legs and walked off never once looking back at the refuse she left behind. Who could stand the sight of one such as you?” Maria laughed, spiteful and mocking.

Lissette’s eyes narrowed as her heart hardened. Her grip tightened on the knife. Suddenly she hated Maria with a violent passion. She was just a bitch. A rotten, lying spoiled bitch. It was all she was and all she ever would be.

Mordred nodded approval and extended her a lazy, satisfied smile all the while soaking up the violent emotions pouring from Lissette.

“You see? Maria’s own words speak the truth. Now you are ready my lovely flower,” he said. “Maria, lean over me and extend your neck long.”

Maria did as she was bide. She grinned at Lissette, taunting her, her eyes glazed with pleasure at Mordred’s command.

“Lissette, plunge the knife in the side of Maria’s neck then remove your hand. Just strike the killing blow and I will do the rest. The burden will be on me, as it should. I would not soil one as precious as you so with the aftermath.”

Lissette leaned close, her eyes as glazed and empty as Maria’s.

“Do it you worthless bitch, I need It.” whispered Maria, her hot breath on Lissette’s face, just as it had been so many times when they made love with Mordred watching. She was almost moaning with excitement. Maria could feel her cunny dripping at this moment. Her legs were shaking with pleasure. Doing this act for Mordred made all else she had done for him pale by comparison. She never felt so good, so alive, so free. If she could freeze this moment for eternity, live it forever, she gladly would.

Lissette felt the unremitting rage inside for just a moment more and this time she embraced it fully. Then she snarled and did the deed. She wanted to do it. She wanted to kill Maria.

She plunged the knife in with force. It slide easily into the soft flesh of Maria’s neck. Maria did not shout out in pain, on the contrary her eyes fluttered as though in great pleasure, a smile graced her face and she let out a sound that could only signify arousal.

Lissette let go of the handle as commanded and Mordred’s hand was there in an instant to replace it. He pulled Maria’s neck close to his mouth, leaned up to it and pulled the knife free with a smooth, practiced motion. He and knives were old acquaintances.

Warm, fresh hot blood poured in torrents from the now open wound, first onto Mordred’s face then into his eagerly sucking mouth. Wrapping his arms around Maria’s body, enveloping her small frame, his head borrowing deeply into her neck he resembled a hideous leech draining a host.

The toes of Maria’s bare feet curled up not in pain but in unholy delight. Shock waves of orgasms unlike any other she had experienced ripped her body like earthquakes.

“Ahhhhhhh…..ahhhhhhhhh…..ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…..ahhhhhhhh,” sounds of heavenly delight exited her throat and mouth as Mordred fed deeper. As Lissette watched she could only feel a rising jealousy that it was Maria who experienced this intimate union with Mordred.

As he fed voraciously and drew the pleasure she was feeling into him, emptying what was left her mind as quickly as her precious life’s blood. His throat purred with sounds mirroring Maria’s. For these few moments they were truly as one. He felt himself floating, blissfully in that particular way only feeding completely, to the final end, could achieve. Like Maria, if he could freeze himself at this moment for eternity, he would. Only the inevitable dissipation of Maria’s blood and emotions and life would force his own mind and body to slowly come down from this intense, all consuming high.

The inexorable pull of this feeling was so strong tonight that he involuntarily tightened his grip on Maria’s body, using all of his terrible strength, as though to squeeze out every bit of her blood and essence. In moments the sound of bones cracking and snapping wrote an audible testament to the force Mordred applied. Maria made no sounds at all now for she was long gone.

Slowly Mordred unwound from her limp broken body, like a constrictor snake uncoiling from some asphyxiated, shattered prey. It took a long time.

Her body fell to the floor. Slowly, so very slowly, Mordred’s head rose and turned toward Lissette. His face was a mask of blood, his pupils shrunk down to pin point pricks even as they had changed from his normal black and now blazed hellish red. His eyes were lidded in a great satiation.

When he finally, with great effort, faced Lissette, he smiled.

Mordred stood with the naked Lissette out in back of the Hillsboro estate. Of the once small but happy family they were the only two people alive on the whole estate. Such was the great and terrible wake of Mordred Mitterhouse, the dominant species. All that was left were shadows and ghosts.

They had walked there together, holding hands, Mordred in his blood soaked clothes and Lissette naked. Her bare feet trod easily over the moist grass as though they were floating. If she stepped on a stone or stick she evinced no pain, such was the doe eyed trance she was in. For her there was nothing besides Mordred.

A strong wide creek ran near their feet. It was one of the many tributaries that crisscrossed England for miles, like veins, feeding into the artery of the Thames. All kinds of items had been tossed, in moments innocent and malign, into these tributaries during England’s long history. The dark, strong currents had way of making unwanted things disappear.

Mordred was still feeling the effects of his feeding as he held Lissette tight. His senses were heightened to the extreme; everything around him seemed alive and beautiful and magnified, like works of art, his mind reeling with pleasure. He leaned into her as though needing her support to stand, his head nestled into her neck, near her ear as he whispered the same words he had spoken to others before.

“My lovely young girl. Our time together is at an end. I must leave this place now.” He thought of the encroaching time of sleep as it neared and he felt a melancholy as never before. In ages past when he awoke mankind really was the same, nothing much changed. But now it was different. Mankind was advancing in new ways and soon he would be left behind like a straggler too slow to keep up with a marvelous caravan.

Two large, twin tears tear dropped from each of Lissette’s eyes. They caught the light of the full moon and glowed like jewels on her lovely cheek. “Can I not come with you Mordred?” she pleaded, desperation anchored deep in her eyes and voice.

Mordred cocked his head and gazed at those tears in abject fascination. He could feel the emotions that produced it but could not replicate them in his own mind. And since his mind was so curious, so questing of knowledge this frustrated him no end. There were two emotions he could not bring himself to feel no matter how hard he tried, love and the depth of joy or sadness that produced tears. He found it incomprehensible, completely foreign and baffling that a human could feel an emotion so strongly that it would produce this physical manifestation he was observing now. He had tried many times in many different ways to bring tears to his eyes but he had never come close.

He suspected that he was denied these emotions because it would interfere with his predator’s instincts. A predator who could feel that deeply would be hindered, weak and vulnerable. Was it not better for his survival that he was devoid of those emotions? He told himself this was so. What choice did he have?

Mordred shook his head wistfully. He reached out and took a tear on his finger tip then put it to his lips. He could taste the salt in it but it gave him nothing more, revealed no secrets. “Where I go you cannot come. You cannot survive the years I must travel.”

Lissette’s face took on a look of total desolation and defeat. It was the final dagger slid deep into her broken, destroyed heart.

As Mordred watched, feeling her terror and despair he considered the idea of letting her live. He had done so with other thralls over the years, not out of sympathy or love but as a moment of largesse from the dominant species to the lesser. He passed out death to humans as he saw fit, at whim and will but what was the meaning of death if he could also not dispense life? One gave meaning to the other.

But he knew this could not be. The body of Maria would be found. There would be outrage among the aristocrats to see one of their own slain in that manner. Justice would be meted out, no question, and what better target than the orphan servant Lissette? She had worked there, whispers would fall onto her, then suspicion, then arrest and trial. Her fate if left alive would end at the gallows, a rope breaking that lovely slim neck like so much kindling.

Lissette had been a very enjoyable, entertaining thrall. There were qualities about her that struck a cord within him. He could see with perfect clarity every moment of their interactions, the joys on her face, the sound of her musical voice, the soft tinkle of her laughter. She was a curious, intelligent woman with a swift, sometimes caustic sense of humor. In another land she could have been so much more than here in this country of stuffed, preening fools all strutting as peacocks showing how beautifully empty and mentally moribund they were. He would not leave her to such an ignominious fate at the hands of mere humans after her faithful service. No these Englishmen would not assuage their fake outrage and manufactured fears on Lissette just to have their upper class sensibilities vindicated. He would not allow those simpering clowns the satisfaction.

She deserved a far better fate. He would not let his Lissette to become their prize, like some trophy fox or boar taken on a hunting party for jolly good sport.

He looked deeply into her eyes, exerting full control now. He could feel her roiling mind calming, like a smooth new sea after the strike of a vicious typhoon.

He ran his bloody fingers over her lips. “Do not despair my love. As I have a journey to make, so do you, a wondrous trip to a special place.”

Her big brown hopeful eyes rose to his. She looked so innocent, so perfect to Mordred. “Really?” she asked a breath of excitement in her voice now. “Tell me more, please!”

“Oh yes my sweet one. I will send you on a journey to a special place that only I can. A place where you will have no more worries, no heartbreak, where you will always be happy and carefree, where all your wishes will come true. Where you will have the life you deserve, that you should have had.”

She burst out in a smile that lit up the night like the rising sun.

“Oh yes Mordred! It is all I ever wanted in life! Please tell me of it, where is it you shall send me where I shall be so happy!”

He pressed harder into her mind. “Tell me true Lissette, do you still love your pretty Maria?”

She nodded slowly adjusting to her new thoughts. “Oh yes, Mordred, you know I do! I always have, I always will!”

He leaned in closer still, running his thumb over her lips. “And she still loves you above all else. Her remorse for what she did to you is tearing at her from within and without. I know because she speaks to me even now as we stand here. She is begging forgiveness!”

Lisstte cried out in heated emotion. She believed every word Mordred uttered. “Tell her Morded! Tell her I forgive her all that came between us. Only love exists in me for her!”

“She knows. She hears you as I hear her. She has journeyed to the place of happiness, where all things can come true. She has told me with a clarion voice. She asks if you can join her in eternal happiness. If you perhaps….wish it too?” She did wish it. She wished it with all her heart. Mordred made her wish her.

“Oh Mordred, I want that more than anything imaginable. Tell her please. Make it happen, please help me!”

“Fear not my angel, for you will soon take wing and fly with Maria to all that awaits your hearts desires. This I promise you.”What is a small lie between such friends and lovers as us?

Lissette looked up at him, happiness on her face. “Will you do to me…what you did to Maria?”

“If you wish it, my love.”

“Oh I do Mordred. I wish it so much.” There was a dark hunger in Lissette’s voice now.

He ran his finger along her jaw line. He could feel her body shiver in response. He gave her a wry, ironic smile whose meaning she could never fathom. “How can I refuse you? You know Lissette, ever since the day we met you have had me helpless to your wishes, wrapped around those pretty fingers.”

Lissette blushed then smiled. Mordred was correct as always. She knew he had been held helplessly in her thrall since the day they had met. She looked so demure and so very young. At that moment Mordred realized she was just a child, barely entering womanhood. Sometimes, often really, Mordred seemed to lose track of these things.

Lissette’s eyes flashed in the moonlight. “Then please grant me yet one more wish.”

He grinned as the hungry wolf, feeling that beautiful hunger rise yet again as an old friend come a calling. “I shall my love. I could never refuse you.”

He leaned in and kissed her on the mouth, with slow, hot sensual hunger. She responded in kind. He pulled back. Maria’s blood had now smeared from his face to hers. As she smiled tenderly, her pale face holding streaks of dark crimson, he thought she never looked more fetching.

He opened his mouth and his canines dropped becoming two pointed fangs as sharp and deadly as any snakes. Then he struck.

As he fed, he could feel Lissette’s body tremble and orgasm in his grasp.

She managed to moan out one word before she died. It was “Maria.” The word was said in the pure indescribable wonder of a lover reunited. Mordred was pleased he could give her this sweet death in lieu of the baying English mob of fake justice.

Mordred sat at the creeks bank, watching Lissette’s body slowly disappear in its current, like a twig drifting away. He felt sadness that his time with her was at an end. He thought of Shakespeare and the little play he had put on in his honor. Compared to the bard’s unequaled imagination and storytelling genius it was nothing, but it had satisfied Mordred’s needs, his desires and thus it mattered. And there was one large distinction that filled Mordred with pride: Shakespeare played with words that were voiced by actors while his stories were carried out by actual people and the consequences were ineffably real. And thus was the difference between even human genius and the dominant species.

Mordred slowly roused himself from his lethargy, his ruminations. He glanced one last time at Lissette, his preternatural vision still able to pick her out her body now so far off in the dark waters.

She was on her final journey and he was about to embark on his next one.

The English ship Symitar was three days out to sea making the voyage from England to the colonies. Mordred had reveled in stories of the new world during his three years in London and was determined to get there. His mind was frighteningly quick and adept and he sensed the colonies were the real future of mankind. There was a massive, uncontrollable energy to what humans were doing there, like some machine that would flatten and trample anything in its way. He had decided like so many thousands of immigrants from all corners of the world that it was this land where his dream would finally come true. He was sure of it.

A fierce storm battered the Symitar on this dark night, roiling and rocking the ship like a cork top on the unforgiving deep waters. While all the passengers and sailors feared and prayed this night, not so Mordred. He reveled in the awesome, primal power of the storm.

He prowled the deck alone, all others hidden below except for the man at the wheel, freezing wind and icy rain pelting him in stinging waves. It felt glorious.

He had entered the mind of the Captain soon after the voyage had started, bringing him to firm heel, and thus had full run of the ship. During the course of the voyage a strange dank, vile atmosphere seemed to permeate the ship. Everyone could feel it but none could really explain it if asked. It was just there, something eldritch and strange like some unfathomable evil stink. Seven crewmembers disappeared during the voyage, just gone, as if they had never existed. The Captain held desultory searches but seemed to not really be interested. He gave the impression of being held in the grip of some overpowering malaise. He only seemed to come alive during his evening supper with his new friend, a wealthy passenger named Mordred. They ate together in the captain’s cabin every night. After the third disappearance even the crew was unenthusiastic about the searches they knew by now would turn up nothing. Even though none would admit it, it seemed like they were frightened about finding out what really was happening to the disappeared, as the missing crew members were called in hushed whispers. Everyone just wanted the cursed voyage to end with their own lives intact.

Mordred gazed up at the monster storm in the sky, the peel of thunder sounding so like the cannons of Tepes’ long ago armies, the flashes of lightening making the ship come alive in a weird glow in fits and starts only to recede back into darkness.

He could feel the raw untamed power of the elements and wanted, no needed to get closer. With the agility and strength no human could approximate he sprang onto the rigging of the main mast. With inhuman speed he began to crawl up towards the crow’s nest like some spider navigating a huge web with the utmost aplomb and skill.

Once in the nest’s basket he peered into the darks storms night as though straining to see the first shores of the new world. His imagination and curiosity ran wild with images of untamed wilderness and the red savages that placed such fear in the hearts of Europeans. He would find these people, enter their minds, learn their language and discern what they knew, what they believed in so he would know it forever. He already understood their time as a free people was limited, soon to be mercilessly crushed under the heel of the white race. For between the two of them, the Europeans were the dominant species and thus was always the fate of the lesser. Mordred was the master teacher of that particular lesson.

But that was only a side show, a divertissement for what he knew was sure to come. He no longer feared a second coming of the Lamb of God and being cast into some hell. He was sure now, after what he had seen and experienced these last three years that it was all mere superstation, a creation of man to assuage their fear of death and the end of existence. The real god on earth, as he had begun to understand was science and this god was but in its infancy. But when it reached adulthood! Oh yes, then everything would change.

And if he was correct in the assumptions he was now making, if his marvelous, agile mind was extrapolating correctly, such great and wonderful things lie ahead of him, power and control beyond imagining.

And it would be bestowed on him by man as though a wolf being given a key to the corral by the lambs themselves. And once he had that key in his iron fist, everything would change.

As the storm railed and raged against him, the thunderclaps deafening, the lightning almost close enough to touch in his high aerie, rain and wind slamming him so hard as to leave indentations in his skin, Mordred thrust his fists skyward, daring the so called god to prove him wrong, to strike him down, end his existence here and now.

But as always, there was no answer. There never was.

Mordred’s laughter rang out, pealed louder and louder, till he roared guttural screams of joy, so deafening, joining with his wild brother, the thunder, to create a sound of infinite horror that even those below decks could hear. It was a sound unlike even the longest tenured seaman had heard before. Many covered their ears to blot it out, to keep from going mad as the storm raged endlessly into the night.

No man dared emerge from below till after the storm with its strange, unnatural, terrible sounds had long passed into the bright new morning. None of them would ever speak of that night again, least not while on the seas.

And somewhere between England and the colonies, wealthy young noble Mordred Mitterhouse disappeared from the pages of history, never to be heard from again.