The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The public baths were one of the few venues in Rome where citizens from all walks of life mingled. Commoners and aristocrats alike took delight in stripping naked and soaking in the warm, scented waters. What fun! During the springtime, summer, and harvest months, the city could be oppressively hot. Plus, the baths were the best location to find some casual sex, if you didn’t mind fornicating in public.

Julia and Valeria were walking down the steps into a freshly-prepared pool, enjoying the feel of moist air on their nude bodies. They attracted the attention of the nearby men, who grew stiff as they ired the two young women.

But Julia and Valeria were accustomed to ignoring such stares. “I was thinking of shopping later today,” Valeria said, rubbing water on her bare arms and stomach. “You want to come?”

“For what?” Julia wanted to know.

“Haven’t decided yet,” itted Valeria. “Some more dresses, perhaps. Or another slave.” She glanced over the staring men. “A slave with a nice, long cock, perhaps. You know, the Palatine Slave Market now sells males who were weened on milk and honey? They say that makes for the sweetest cum.” She pouted. “I haven’t had a good fuck in ages.”

Julia scowled. Valeria’s husband, the honorable Cassius Maximus Brocchus, was a senator, corrupt and richer than Midas. Valeria would spend her entire life ridiculously pampered. She would never have to worry about her status or power. Her problems were trite.

Valeria lowered herself into the water, up to her shoulders. She straightened, then deliberately shook her hips, just to waggle her rear end. The young woman was proud of her tush, which she vainly considered the most desirable in all of Rome. The men staring at her didn’t seem to disagree.

“Listen,” harumphed Julia, “whom do we know in the Imperial court?”

“The emperor’s court?” Valeria frowned, reaching the end of the pool stairs. She was now standing stomach-deep in the clear pool. “Well, lots of people, of course. Really, anyone who snags an invite to the palace can be considered to be a member of the court. They say Emperor Caligula likes to bring Rome to him.”

“No, I mean…” Julia said, wondering how she could ask her question, yet not tip off her friend’s suspicions. “Whom do we know who is at the court and sees the emperor regularly? Like, at least once a week.”

“You’re starstruck!” Valeria laughed, a touch of cruelty in her voice. “You’re already married, you know. And Caligula has plenty of women.”

Annoyed, Julia said, “Just answer the question.” She knelt, lowering herself up to her neck in the water.

“Oh, right, I forgot,” said Valeria arrogantly. “Your husband doesn’t have any status, so you don’t know the slightest thing about how the palace works. Well. Hmm. Sorry, dear, no-one you know could get to see the emperor.”

Julia nodded absently, as if she wasn’t really interested in this conversation. She said, “No, no, I don’t really want to attend the parties. I was thinking… The anniversary of Caligula’s coronation is coming up. The festival tributes will pretty massive. I was thinking about ing a committee to commission a poem, something to be read to the masses. It would be nice to know more about our emperor before we paid for the poem.”

“Oh,” said Valeria. “Hmm. Well, you could talk to Rufus Mettius. Rufus the Doofus. You know Rufus, don’t you?”

The name sounded familiar. “Isn’t he the Byzantine guy who… made that speech…?” Julia guessed hopelessly.

The other woman threw a condescending look. “No, stupid. Rufus was a soldier, a centurion, or something. Back when Caligula was just a little boy, his dad was a major general. So Caligula used to travel with the army, and they supposedly dressed the kid up in ceremonial armor, just for fun.” Valeria snorted in derision. “Our friend Rufus was made captain of Caligula’s guard. Mind you, no-one thought Caligula would ever become emperor, so the guard detail was, like, Rufus and one other dude.

“Anyhoo,” Valeria went on, “Rufus and Caligula were never friends, but they spent a lot of time together on the road. Later, Rufus was made a general, and he lost some minor battle in Germania, or something. I forget. He left the army, and now he runs the chariot-house at Circus Maximus.”

“Oh gods!” Julia exclaimed. “Rufus! The Chariot-Master! Of course. His wife is that fat, sweaty bitch who is always fanning herself, right? I know him. So, he knew Caligula in his youth, eh…?”

“Yep,” said Valeria. “But Rufus is apparently sensitive about his connection to Caligula. I think the emperor treated him badly.“

Julia’s friend sighed, and then submerged completely. When she reemerged, with the cool water streaming off her sleek body, she wore an odd expression on her face.

“Funny thing,” Valeria remarked, reaching for a poolside washing-cloth. “You’re the second person to ask me about s in the Imperial palace.”

Julia froze. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Valeria said, scrubbing one arm. “Drusilla wanted to know basically the same thing you asked me: Whom do we know in Caligula’s circle?”

Drusilla! The name of Julia’s rival caused an unpleasant chill to race down her spine.

“Why would Drusilla ask that?” Julia said lightly, hoping that she sounded casual.

“Well,” replied Valeria, washing her hair, “word is, the emperor is looking to name an Imperial Governor of Achaea. And you know Drusilla. She’d push her own children before stampeding elephants if she thought it would gain her power. She’s looking to get her husband named to that post.”

Julia felt the color drain from her own face.

Working quickly, Julia reached out to Rufus Mettius via a private messenger. The trick was to make her overture appear to be a business transaction, nothing more. Otherwise, Julia would arouse the suspicions of the Chariot-Master’s ever-suspicious wife.

After a little cajoling, Rufus agreed to stop by Julia’s house midmorning, but in three days hence. Julia spent the time waiting in a horrible temper. Patience was not a virtue she bore well. Somewhere, out in the city, Drusilla was pursuing her own gift for the emperor! What could it be? The more Julia wondered, the more she steamed.

When the day of Rufus’ visit finally came, Julia was well-prepared. She had ensured that her own husband would be away, reviewing his warehouses at the docks. Then she returned to her dressing-chamber, bathed, and had her servants wrap her in a new, customized dress of dark red silk. The garment hugged Julia’s torso, chest, and derriere very tightly, but opened up to expose the tops of her generous breasts. At Julia’ command, the servants cut a slit up the side of the skirt, which allowed one of her shapely legs to be exposed.

“Mmm… wonderful,” Julia remarked, as she inspected herself from every angle in the polished reflection-mirror. With her hair elaborately tied up and just the right amount of makeup, she looked alluring. More than any mortal man could resist.

Rufus Mettius was much as Julia ed him: A broad-shouldered, balding man in his late thirties, still attractive to the female eyes. The man was obviously ex-military, as he still had the build and gate of a soldier. His toga was wrapped to keep half of his chest and one arm completely bare, and Julia found herself briefly iring his muscles.

“Rufus!” she said warmly, beaconing the fellow into her atrium. “So lovely to see you again!”

“Thank you, ma’am, thank you,” Rufus replied, gaping in iration at the house. Julia had ensured that everything was sparkling clean. Fresh flowers had been placed in every Grecian urn only an hour ago.

Rufus gazed at his hostess, and his eyes visibly popped. Inside, Julia smiled to herself.

“Come in, come in,” gushed the beautiful young woman, taking Rufus by the arm. Pulling the man close to her, she propelled him into the house, gliding to a private sitting-chamber off the vestibulum. Here, the sitting couches were plush and close together. A small table with grapes, goblets, and a bottle of wine was waiting. The curtains were partly drawn, allowing a bit of soft daylight to stream inside. Faint incense was burning within the small hearth.

“Sit next to me,” cooed Julia, even though there were only two couches. The beautiful young woman poured the wine, setting a generous goblet before her guest.

“Er… yes…” Rufus murmured, still in awe of the luxury of his surroundings. “Well now… You and your husband, ma’am, you—“

“Call me Julia,” insisted the beautiful young woman, leaning close. She smiled warmly, briefly touching Rufus’ forearm.

“Julia, of course,” agreed Rufus. “Ah, so you and your husband were looking to sponsor a chariot in the Circus Maximus?”

“Yes, yes we were,” Julia lied. “I’ve always loved the races, you know. So thrilling.”

“Well, we have several sponsorship opportunities for exclusive patrons like yourself,” assured Rufus, his eyes lighting up. “In fact, two have arrived in Rome just this week. There’s an exciting young driver and his stallions from Illyricum, very promising—“

“Yes, tell me more,” purred Julia, wondering how she was to pivot this conversation into more fruitful topics. For the moment, she allowed Rufus to prattle on about chariots and horses and drivers. While he spoke, Julia leaned forward, allowing her guest to ire her wide cleavage.

“By the gods,” she sighed when Rufus paused to gulp down some wine. “There’s so much to know about racing! Why, I’ll never know how to make a decision.”

“Not to worry, my dear,” Rufus grinned. “A lady of your sophistication and intelligence can hardly make a wrong selection.”

“Flatterer,” laughed Julia. “Here, pour yourself some more wine. You’re such an expert, Rufus. I’m sure your years in the army prepared you well for this line of work.”

This remark caught the older man off-guard. “What do you mean?” he said, his smile fading.

“Oh,” Julia shrugged. “You attack enemies with chariots, don’t you?”

“In Africa,” muttered Rufus, looking down into his wine. “I, uh, fought up north.”

Shit, thought Julia crossly. She needed her guest to be charmed and to lower his guard.

“Oh, Rufus,” she laughed again, laying a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. “Forgive a silly girl like me! What do I know of the army! Nothing!” She caressed his shoulder with appreciation. “Mmm, you’re still quite strong, I see. There’s nothing like a man with muscles.”

Rufus hesitated. Julia could tell: he was cautious. But tempted.

“Tell me something,” the beautiful hostess said softly. “I’ve always wondered… When you’re in the army, there must be nothing like the thrill of victory. That must be true if you are highest general or the lowliest ranker.”

“Mmm,” muttered Rufus, and he relaxed. “Well… yes.”

“I’m sure,” flirted Julia. Her hand remained on Rufus’ soldier. “Oh, if I’d been a man! Tell me: what is it like, in the moment when you crush your enemies?”

“There’s nothing like it,” Rufus confessed. The man sipped more wine, then leaned closer. “There was this one time, in my youth… I was marching with General Germanicus, up north. Ah, those were glorious days.”

He smiled and gazed into the past. “There was this one time… on the plains of Idistaviso… The barbarian tribes dared to meet up on an open field of battle. They’d bled us plenty at that point, and by the gods, we were ready to spill their blood.” Rufus extended a hand and dramatically closed his fist. “And in Mars’ name, we did. I personally cleaved off the head of no less than five of the rebel scum in that battle.”

“By the gods,” breathed Julia.

“There’s this moment…” Rufus said conspiratorially, “…when you meet your enemy, and he realizes that all is lost. The look in a man’s eyes when he knows, at long last, that he is conquered…” The man laughed softly. “Glorious.”

Julia snuggled closer. A cruel daydream was forming in her mind: She saw herself on a battlefield, dressed in a centurion’s armor and holding a naked, bloodied sword. Before her knelt her enemy: Drusilla. The other woman’s eyes were widening in terror as Julia raised up her blade…

“I would have loved to have been a soldier,” Julia murmured.

“Ah, you’ve have made a great soldier,” chuckled Rufus, gazing into Julia’s sparkling eyes. “I can tell.”

The older man was enjoying himself. He was relaxing. The wine was going to work on his judgement. He kept stealing glances as Julia’s body, especially her chest. He was tempted.

Julia set down her goblet. With one hand still on Rufus’ shoulder, she lay her free hand atop the older man’s forearm in a gentle caress. “You knew the emperor in those days, didn’t you? You spent much time with him?”

But this was the wrong thing to say. Immediately, Rufus’s expression hardened.

“I, ah, should really be going,” he coughed, pulling away.

Shit! Julia thought in alarm. I mentioned the emperor too soon!

“Wait…!” she implored.

“So,” Rufus said, rising from his couch, “you’ll let me know about the chariots? We can work out an arrangement. I should be getting home to my wife,” he added, most to himself.

Cursing her bad luck, Julia hurried to prevent Rufus from leaving the room. “Okay, okay,” she allowed. “You know what? I trust you, Rufus. I’ll give you my funds, and you can pick a chariot on my behalf. Can you wait here, and I’ll get you… er, what? Five thousand denari? That should be enough for an initial downpayment?”

“I’d need at least thirty thousand,” huffed Rufus. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“Thirty, or course,” Julia fretted. “Of course. Just… please… wait here?”

Rufus was no longer making eye . But he gruffly nodded.

“I won’t be a moment,” the beautiful young woman promised. Then, she turned and hurried away.

Julia made a beeline for the kitchens, which were quiet at the moment. Most of the staff were off, shopping at the markets, working in the gardens, or doing the house laundry.

But in the back of the kitchens, Julia located the two slaves she was seeking. Tatia and Avita were sitting at the servants’ table, relaxing and sharing a crust of spicedbread. They gossiped in low voices.

With a furious glare, Julia flew to the wine rack, yanking a full bottle of Setinum off the top rack. This was, she knew from experience, the most potent wine that Roman vineyards produced.

Then the beautiful young woman rounded on her two slaves, fixing them with a terrible stare. Tatia and Avita shrank back in fear.

“Listen, you shitty little skanks,” hissed Julia, her eyes blazing. “I know you’re both fucking my husband. I should have you each whipped, then toss your bloodied bodies to the Coliseum lions.”

Tatia let out a horrified little choke. “Please, mistress!” she groveled. “Master Pandion, he—“

“Shut up,” Julia barked. “Do everything I fucking say. Or I’ll have your heads.” She scowled harder.

Tatia and Avita nodded quickly.

“Here,” Julia snapped, yanking out the cork from the bottle. “Both of you, drink this. Every drop.” She thrust the drinking vessel forward. “Drink!”

Fearful, Avita reached for the bottle.

When the two slaves had finished all the Setinum, Julia seized the girls by their arms. “Hurry,” she snapped.

Perhaps four minutes had ed since Julia had left Rufus in the parlor! She was running out of time.

Although Tatia and Avita stumbled in their drunkenness, Julia rushed the slave women into her personal bedchamber. “Take off all your clothes,” she ordered harshly. “Then get on the bed.”

When the intoxicated slaves stared blankly at their mistress, Julia slapped Tatia across the face. “Now!” she roared.

The slave women hurried to obey. Soon, their plain tunics were tossed to the floor. They knelt on the bed, wondering what was going on.

Meanwhile, Julia rushed about, pulling all the curtains closed. Near-darkness swallowed the room.

“There,” Julia grunted, wishing she had time to light candles. She returned to the bed.

“You,” she snapped at Tatia. “Lie on your back. Spread your legs.”

“Mistress?” Tatia exclaimed, horrified.

Julia smacked Tatia again. “Defy me once more, and you’ll be whipped,” she warned.

Tatia hurried to carry out Julia’s demands.

“Good,” Julia huffed. To Avita, she said, “Now, suck on her. Eat her pussy. And don’t pretend that you don’t know how,” she sneered when Avita recoiled, just a little.

With little choice, Avita lowered her mouth to Tatia’s vagina. Her tongue and lips went to work.

“Make it look good,” warned Julia, but there was no need. Tatia, with her bellyful of wine, was already relaxing. Her eyes slowly closed.

“Good enough,” Julia grunted. “Keep it up, until I return.” And she fled from the room.

Rufus was standing in the Vestibulum with his arms folded when Julia returned. She pressed a small coin purse into his meaty hands.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Rufey,” she purred, the seductive hostess once more. “This is all the cash I have on hand; but the servants are fetching the rest. Can you come with me?”

Rufus opened the purse, eyed the money inside, then grunted. “I suppose…” he allowed.

So Julia took him by the arm once more, and propelled him deeper into the house. “Forgive me for this ruse,” she said gayly. “But I had an alternate motive for inviting you over.”

She could sense Rufus stiffen in alarm. “What motive?” he demanded. “Because if this is about the emperor—“

“Oh no,” Julia quickly assured him. “Oh no! Why would I want to discuss the emperor? Women have no head for politics, you know this. No, I was hoping to gain something else from you…”

The beautiful young woman pressed closer. “Let me show you?” she murmured.

Rufus hesitated, but his resistance was weakened. “Just… for a moment…” he allowed.

Taking his hand, Julia pulled him further down the corridor.

When Julia and Rufus entered the dark bedroom, Avita was still sucking on Tatia. Tatia was moaning and gasping with pleasure. Avita’s mouth was skilled, indeed.

“What is this?” exclaimed Rufus, stunned. His eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light.

Julia hurriedly shut the door. It was time to go for broke.

In her sultriest voice, she purred, “Do you know what makes me so hot, Rufey? What makes my pussy dripping wet… like it is now?” She moved closer to the older man, placing her soft hands upon his chest.

“My deepest fantasy,” moaned Julia, “is to be conquered. By a real man. A man who has slaughtered his enemies. A man who can subdue me in my own bed. Not like my limp-dick husband. A man like you.”

Julia leaned forward, kissing the dumbfounded Rufus full on the lips. At the same time, she took the older man’s hands, and slid them onto her breasts. It pleased her to feel him squeeze, just a little.

In the bed, Tatia started wailing, “Oh gods…! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!” She started kicking, her orgasm blossoming into life.

Julia broke the kiss, stepped away from Rufus, and moved to stand behind Avita. The slave was on her forearms and knees, which pushed her exposed posterior into the air. Julia lustily grabbed one buttock.

“Stop sucking,” she ordered Avita harshly. “Strip the gentleman. Do it on your knees.”

Avita wiped her mouth, then scurried off the bed. Julia grabbed Tatia by the hair. “Undress me,” she commanded.

Reeling from wine and a pretty great orgasm, Tatia did her best to obey. Her fumbling fingers pulled at Julia’s dress, allowing her mistress’ breasts to pop free. But the dress resisted her and did not come off.

Julia pulled the long pins from her hair, allowing her bouncy brown hair to tumble about her shoulders. “We are but helpless peasants, my lord,” she said to Rufus. “Conquer us. Make us three your slaves. Have your way with us, and fuck us raw.” And then, she turned to kiss Tatia.

As Julia and her slave ionately kissed one another, Rufus hurriedly unlaced his sandals. He kicked off the simple shoewear. And Avita was kneeling beside him, pulling at his toga. A toga is little more than a sheet of cloth wrapped around the body; once the slave girl was pulling at the right strand of cloth, the entire garment fell from Rufus’s broad shoulders. Fully nude now, Rufus thrust his erection as the slave girl. “Suck it,” he commanded.

“No!” Julia ordered, breaking her kiss with Tatia. “Come here, my lord. Bring the wench with you.”

Rufus obeyed, and soon all four adults were kneeling on the bed. Julia smirked. She lovingly grasped Rufus’s cock… and began stroking it… slowly.

“Your sword awes me, my lord,” she murmured. “Now… Conquer us.”

The chariot-master grabbed the two slave girls, pushing them together. Tatia and Avita fell to kissing, sliding their hands over one another’s bodies. They fell onto the bedsheets, with Tatia rolling on top of Avita. Avita reached over Tatia’s hips and grasped one of her buttocks. The two women were growing more and more aroused.

Satisfied, Rufus turned on Julia. The two stood on their knees, at the center of the bed.

“Conquer me,” she whispered again.

Rufus greedily tore at his hostess’ dress, surprising her with his savagery. The Chinese silk tore. To her surprise, Julia felt the tattered remains of the garment fall away. Soon, the moist air was kissing her skin. She was nude.

And then Rufus was upon her. The man’s lust was palatable. Rufus thrust his erection against Julia’s belly as he kissed her. The rough stubble of his beard brushed harshly against Julia’s smooth skin. His two rough hands clamped onto her arms.

Julia permitted the crude lovemaking. Her own sexual desire was stirring, but she was careful to keep from losing control. Rufus’ battleworn body did excite her, true, but she needed to keep a level head. She watched her prey carefully.

Julia and Rufus kissed. Sometimes Rufus’ course lips wandered down Julia’s neck to tongue her nipples. Other times, he fondled her breasts with his hands as her sought to kiss her mouth. All the while, Julia kept lightly teasing his cock with her fingertips. He was dribbling, but not yet ready to shoot off.

“Unngh,” Rufus grunted, then harshly pushed Julia on the her back. He pounced, lying atop her, kissing her neck while trying to force apart her legs with her own knees.

Alarmed, Julia put both of her hands on his shoulders. “Wait, my lord, wait,” she gasped. Her whole plan would be for naught if Rufus obtained any control at this point.

Annoyed, the chariot master, allowed himself to be laid onto his back. Julia slapped Tatia’s rear, just enough to get the slaves’ attention.

“Girls,” she snapped. “Lick our lord’s nipples.”

Although Tatia and Avita were nearly at their own climax, they scurried to carry out Julia’s wishes. Avita slithered to Rufus’s left side; Tatia to his right. Both slaves lowered their mouths to Rufus’ chest and gently—oh so gently—they began to trace the outline of his nipples with their sensuous tongues.

At the same time, Julia rose up, positioned herself over Rufus’ hips, then lowered herself onto the man’s rocklike penis. She sighed with contentment as she felt the swollen erection slide deep within her.

Rufus trembled. He gaped at the sight of three nude woman, all servicing different parts of his body. The man’s breathing became erratic.

Julia smiled, beginning to rise and fall slowly. As she rode Rufus’ cock, she deliberately built a lethargic rhythm. She arched her back, which allowed her breasts to bounce with her motion.

“Uhhhggggnnnn…!” Rufus moaned, trembling even more.

It was time to spring the trap. Using her best sex-voice, Julia moaned, “Oh, my lord, you feel soooo goooood…!”

“…yeah…!” gasped the man beneath her.

“Oh,” rasped Julia, “I’m pretending you are the emperor, and I am your horny, captured trophy. I know only my emperor can cum inside me like a true conqueror!”

Rufus made a groaning sound.

“Tell me, my love?” Julia teased. “What does the emperor like? Tell me?”

“Oh, just fuck me!” growled Rufus. He was trying to shift his hips upward. But Julia controlled how much he could penetrate her.

“What does the emperor like?” Julia repeated.

“Fuck!” gasped Rufus. “Fuck me, you want to discuss Caligula? Now? Fuck!”

“Ohhhhhh, Rufey,” the beautiful nude woman sighed. “Its no use. I want you to fuck me like the emperor… but you have to tell me what he likes. Something no-one else would know…!”

Because Rufus was wavering, she quickly added, “Oh baby, I’m close, I’m so fucking close, I want to fuck you, I want you to cum all inside me like the conqueror you are, mmm? What does the emperor like, baby? Tell me.”

“Oh gods,” blurted Rufus, really struggling.

“Suck him harder,” Julia ordered Tatia and Avita. “Tell me, my lord… Just tell me so you can cum!”

“Fuck me, by Jupiter!” Rufus cried, becoming red-faced now. “Fuck it! Caligula, he… he was always awkward with girls.”

“Ohhh, hearing that makes me hot, baby,” Julia groaned, riding a little harder. “Tell me more!”

“He… ugh… when he was a young teen…” gasped Rufus, losing control, “…he had this fantasy…”

Julia’s eyes lit up. She stopped entirely. “What?” she asked harshly. “What fantasy?”

“Oh gods, Caligula wanted magic powers,” shouted Rufus, rushing his words. “He wanted to put a spell on the aristocratic women he lusted after, so they would become his total and obedient slaves!”

A rush of triumph filled Julia’s soul. She immediately resumed bouncing up and down on Rufus’ cock. “Oh, gods, my lord!” she panted, as if nothing manipulative had happened at all. “Oh, you make me so horny, so fucking horny, I want you to cum inside me, conquer me, make me your total, willing slave—“

“GAAAAAAHHHHHNNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!!!” Rufus bellowed, arching his back.

Julia felt the man’s cock spasm, and then a warm, rushing sensation filled her vagina. Rufus was having his climax. The seductive young woman grinned wickedly, continue to bounce.

Her mind wandered. So, Caligula had a secret sexual fantasy? Julia had no idea how she could exploit this… but it was something to work with. Perhaps she could buy some beautiful whores at the slave market, dress them up like noblewomen, and give them to the emperor? That might work.

To her surprise, Julia was also losing control. Feeling Rufus’ rigid cock thrusting inside her, Julia sighed, allowed her eyes to fall closed, and then tasted her own orgasm.