Homecoming Hypnotism Ch 06 Pt 02

Chapter Six

Part Two

Mark studied the text that he had brought back with him from the nunnery, turning the pages that had become populated with inscriptions and symbols after the ritual. How strange it was that, ultimately, such a simple act like fucking the nuns during their ceremony could bring so much power to him. And just how much more power could be his if only he pressed for more, searched out the rites and rituals that would open up so many more doors to him. And the information he uncovered in the tome, oh... Oh, it was a revelation indeed, displaying more even in that short text that he took the time to read than he could ever have imagined.

He did not only, after all, have the power to transform the bodies of people but the ritual seemed to have opened up the ability to transform their experiences too, their memories and what made them who they were. The example used in the text, of course, was more useful than sexual, depicting how a banker could possibly be made into a Special Forces soldier and he spared a moment of thought in wondering if that was how so many had been recruited for the last war. In comparison to his kingdom of sexual freedom and empowerment, it was almost a sobering thought but still something to hold lightly in mind.

The spell, however, the control... That would come in useful, even if he did not truly need to strip the nuns of everything they had been before. He lined the nuns up before his carriages, his tailor having delivered the outfits required in record time. First, they willingly dressed in a black, skin-tight uniform that left nothing about their sexy, older curves to the imagination, mark following each note and nuance step up step as if reading from a list. For, even in his kingdom, a sense of order was required and he would adhere to that order at all costs where it best served him.

The material shifted and shimmered in the sunshine but allowed them to move freely, the black corsets going on over the top for that added touch of sexuality. Of course, it would be more difficult for them to have freedom of movement in such a thing but the memories he would implant would allow them the knowledge to both be lustful and deadly.

Mental transformation took more concentration than the previous spells of control that he had worked on but he was not put off, sweating as his carriages were prepared -- all three of them. He needed to make an entrance. But, slowly, he was able to turn the nuns in mentality into the Special Forces soldiers that he thought, perhaps, that they had always been destined to be; after all, he needed something of a security system if he was to meet with another so-called 'master'. At the mere thought of him, Mark's brow furrowed. Just who did he think he was, if he even existed, stepping in on his territory?

The nuns all looked the same, his perfect army, his Angels of Death that could do no wrong, taking all that lay before them. Smiling, a little of the tension slipped from him as he surveyed them, their sexy curves making him want something else when he should really have been thinking of the plan at hand, what he had to focus on. The stakes were high but his nuns, his Angels of Death, took on a formal yet sexual air, oozing a sense that they were regal, above everyone else. Their eyes stayed still, focused straight ahead, but he knew that they were cataloguing all potential threats, sweeping the area as if they were about to move out at any time.

Perfect.

He had to test them first, however, putting them through their paces as they darted and ran, their uniforms helping, at least, to contain any appearance of unsightly sweat. That would not possibly do for the Angels of Death, his angels. They had to be perfect at all times, the ideal killing machine, although he had no inclination at all to force them to kill or end lives that were not of any importance, such as was the case in war. That was all a political move and while his meeting with another king and master of enslavement could by some measure of the imagination be considered a political move he was only doing it because he had to know what he was up against. He had no desire at all to move in on another master's territory, just expand his and rule, taking on a wider and wider area as he brought so many people under his control.

When they were not actively working for or serving him, however, he allowed all those that he had enslaved to go about their normal lives. His tailor, for example, was also a designer of high-end ball gowns but he'd only wanted to bring the best into his employ and service so that his attire was of the highest quality and he had been the best. There hadn't been any other question or influence required in the decision and the tailor had been free to continue on with the rest of his life as if there had been no interruption at all. Seeing everything he made for the kinky mind of King Mark as perfectly normal, Mark was more than able to let his imagination go wild as he concocted impressive creations, imagining just how they would go together and then letting the master craftsman, whose many talents went further than mere ball gown design for sure, go on as he wished to create all he thought up.

And so it was that the nuns would become the Angels of Death, able to provide security but also becoming and remaining his loyal sex slaves and fanatics. They would be able to switch from sex to defence at the drop of a hat and the crux of what they were able to provide for him lay in their complete and utter devotion to him. Again, he thought that they must have been well-suited to such a life right from the beginning to think that they had not needed hardly any control enforced over them at all to bring them into his kingdom, but that only played out well in Mark's favour.

"Demonstrate!"

On the steps of his mansion, he spread his arms wide and roared, empowered and in control as the nuns ran through their paces, somehow managing to come up with a drill right there on the spot, memories that Mark did not even have for himself imprinted on them. Crawling, rolling, evasion... They had it all and their aged bodies did not hold them back, hair braided or tucked under black flat caps that ensured it would not get in their way or cloud their vision. He did not have something of the typical training obstacle course for them but the sexy angels made use of what was there already, leaping onto the terrace and creeping stealthily to the corner as if they had been doing such things for their whole life.

They were sleek, they were fearsome and all he wanted to do was rip every last article of sexily functional (well, okay, maybe the corset was not the most functional thing in the world) from their bodies. Their tits were still impossible to ignore, the corsets cutting below them, and he noted with a tremor of pleasure that Magrathe was in charge of them -- of course, the squad had to have someone to lead them. How impressive was the transformation of minds if it could do so much, even then? What more could his powers do? Even then, he'd only skimmed the surface and not delved into the truth of it but Mark was not all that sure after seeing its effects whether all of it could be used for good.

He'd skim over his enslavement of his family and incestuous relations when thinking of all the good he had done in creating a liberal, sexual society, of course. Sometimes it was better to look at oneself with blinkers on, like one of those old carriage horses. And yet he did not see why one would go for something as crude as a hunk of metal for a mode of transport when, years back, one could have had horses in those very blinkers, hides gleaming with good health. Why should he not still want to see the tracings filled with sexier bodies, his human harem stepping out nice and high, stomping in their gracefully tall high heels?

His carriages would be drawn by his favourites, the most stunning women in his harem, although he adored each and every last one of them in different ways, for all had their positives and negatives. Even now that he could change them to suit his whim and will, he took his time going down the line of them, hitched up into the traces of the harnesses and looking as smartly sexy as ever. Some of the women were better suited to the way of life he had put down before them than others, members of high society that Victoria especially had taken great pleasure into bringing into his world and harem.

He smirked at a grey-haired vixen with her hair coiled up into a bun -- all so that he could better enjoy the sleek lines of her long neck and how it simply seemed to draw attention to her chest. Yes, it was better to distract himself while preparations were made, allow his nuns to do what they did best as his angels and get into formation. His harem and servants were the best of the best and he did well to remember that for himself, groping and squeezing the woman's large breasts with both hands. Rolling and massaging her flesh between lustful fingers and the palms of his hands, he did not allow her to shrink away and, on the contrary, she pushed keenly into his touch as if there was nothing else in the world that she would have rather have had right then and there.

What was her name again? Julie? He had not seen her at too many high society events before but, truly, they were not his thing -- not before the world of mind control, that was, had opened up before him. She was tall in her daring stilettos and it was a sure thing that she would not have even been able to walk straight without the imprint of 'knowing' how to walk in them that he lent her. Truly, he had touched so very lightly on transforming minds before even understanding the knowledge of the tome from the convent too, but he had not before realised that he could push that so very much further than simply instructing a mind in how to walk like a sex goddess in heels.

"Julie..."

He breathed her name as if it was something divine and she moaned, nipples perking up like hard little bullets. There were real bullets too loaded up into the guns that his angels were equipped with, his servants of the mansion and estate doing their job in the distribution of what they had called in. It was a good thing that it was easier than ever to procure exactly what he needed in the bounds of his kingdom but Mark wouldn't have given up so easily even if he had had to go about things in a more conventional manner. No, it was imperative that they were able to defend themselves and, importantly, him too, doing their jobs and tasks assigned to the very best of their ability. For who knew what lay ahead as they lined up before the carriages, guns at the ready, the very picture of professionalism as they stood there for his attention.

And they would wait and wait, wait on his orders, his order the law and the word of a god that they no longer worshipped. He was their god now and they would do everything possible to serve him until the end of their days. Everyone would, whether they were part of his more personal, sexual harem or something other and their bodies would shape to his will too. Just for good measure, Mark smirked, his own semblance of confidence renewed as he cast out his hand towards the line of nuns, making their already massive breasts swell a little more, nipples showing through the thin, tight fabric of their outfits even more so than before.

There. That would do. At least, for the moment. There were others to enjoy and he paused before the woman at the head of his first carriage, the third in his life that he had so sought to enslave.

"Agatha..." He smiled, an eyebrow cocked. "Is that dildo not too small for you now?"

His other grandmother whined and shook her head, eyes plaintive. In her case, considering their fraught relationship of younger years, he'd left a little bit of 'her' inside her mind, the humiliation rising up and through her in a heady flush to her skin.

"Y-yes," she forced out, the words coming slowly from a mouth that was loathe to release them. "Oh, please... Please fill me!"

He clicked his tongue mockingly against the roof of his mouth, relishing the power he had over her, the grey-haired beauty who had made so much of his time before a living hell, even though she most likely did not see it that way. Having her around, even if it had been under his control, was difficult for him and he needed to keep reminding her where her place was, showing her that he was in charge. It made him feel better about it all more than anything else, cementing his power firmly over her and ensuring that there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that Agatha ever could do ever again to make his life a living hell.

Control? Well, she most certainly didn't have any of that now.

Slowly, he'd been introducing her to new toys, letting his craftsman design and create them, although not even Mark could understand or explain just how he breathed life into the designs. He seemed to simply have a way about him that made things appear from thin air, able to craft and design like no other that Mark ever knew of. And the toys that he had crafted from wood warmed to the shape of her body, stretching her out even as her anal ring closed around the narrower neck of the polished wood (only the best quality) butt plug that she wore at that very moment. Even her body seemed to want to keep the toys tucked away inside her and she groaned, shifting her weight as her body pulsed and throbbed around them, reminding her constantly of their heated presence, always there, always wanton...

Mark teased her, running his fingers over the latex harness -- what a wonderful new material that was to work with, he really should have more done up in latex just for the variety of it -- as she moaned for him. The straps crisscrossed her body in a diamond pattern, simple but more than enough to draw the eye to and frame her gorgeous tits. He knew what body she had had but there could be nothing sexier than the body she had even in old age, her regal air all but gone, a panting, humiliated harem slave that wanted nothing more than to ram object after object into her sore holes.

She'd never done that before, had she? And it had been him that had opened that world up to his sweet, sweet grandmother.

"Your breasts are too small... Let me fix that for you."

"Thank you, my king, you're too king, my king..." Agatha murmured, slipping into slavery once more. "I don't know what I would do without you, my king."

The adoration filled him up from the inside out, warming him through, and Mark smiled widely and genuinely, lavishing in it. If he could bottle up such a fragrance or even such a sensation, he would have even more money than he already did. But money had no purpose without those in his harem to spend it on, letting those in his kingdom earn their keep with kinky, vivacious delights even if they did not explicitly partake in those delights themselves too.

Agatha's breasts swelled with the aura of his influence and she gasped, amazed at the change. What was he doing to her? Could he do such a thing to her body? How big could they get? A diamond of straps were secured around each breast and it was those very straps that strained to hold them, breasts growing larger and larger, sagging under their own weight. She'd not been as busty as some when she'd been younger but she'd known, for sure, how to work and hold her own body, her best asset being her arse, but Mark was not going to leave that untended to either.

With a smirk, he leaned into her, his hands tenderly stroking down her arms, her sides, her hips, knowing that she could not do anything to stop him -- would not even do anything at all to stop him. And that too was just the way it was supposed to be as her arse swelled out and out, firming up as if there was even more muscle and fat there than there was supposed to be. He tweaked her hips too, making them just a touch wider and to his liking, although he knew that he could change her back at any time if he did change his mind about how his least favourite grandmother's body should look.

"There now..."

And, to complete her kinky ensemble was a new dildo, Mark deftly unlocking the wooden one from her cunt and replacing it with another larger one. It was not so much that her body could not bear it but, with little nodules and ridges all down the length for the art of female pleasure and stimulation, he could well enough make sure that she would feel it every step of the way to this new master's home, showing off his harem and part of his kingdom with all the pride that truly befitted a man of his great standing in the world.

Everyone should know who he was and bow down before him!

His angels flooded into the carriages, carried there with two to guard him in his own carriage, travelling in the middle of the three. Every woman was draped in glistening, glittering jewels, a demonstration of wealth, but he could not have prepared himself for the lavishness that awaited him at the home of the other master. He was situated on a similar estate to Mark but he had gone out with every extravagance that a man could possibly have, a shooting range on his property in sight even as they swung through the gates, which had been left open, seemingly, just for them. A lake sparkled behind the mansion, which was larger still, and further denoted the lavish wealth at hand there. There was nothing like that on Mark's estates but it could be put in place if that was what the social elite were showing off now. It seemed to change from month to month but that was the way of the higher social classes. And he should have known just who this man was if he was so high up in society, surely...

It had not even been all that far away. Mark's lips pressed together, the line of them growing thinner with every passing moment. How had they never before crossed paths?

Three cars resided in the space before the grand front entrance, black as if they had come from the secret services themselves, although he would not think that they would have much interest in a man that could enslave others to his will, except maybe to take him into custody. And just how far would they get with that, he wondered? He was invincible against anyone normal and there was only so much that one master, surely, could do against another who had also learned the secret art of mind control, drawing others into their will.

There was only one way to find out.

As the carriages drew up in all their splendour, a horde of heavily armoured women spilt forth from the front entrance, dressed as if they were in formal military attire. It may have been camouflage print but it by no means concealed their beauty, their figures discernible to an eye that dared to look. They did not wear exterior corsets for fetish appeal but their master appeared to have transformed them so that they boasted a shocking hourglass figure, hips huge and breasts just the right size to make the perfect shape, although neither were they too large, presumably for the sake of defence. Mark smirked. Did their master think that they didn't have the power to protect him even with oversized breasts? How rich...

No, he had to be the better master, the more powerful one. Time in power didn't mean anything at the end of the day and it was all about how one wielded that power. Still, he could not help but appreciate the view as more and more of the other master's subjects poured forth as if no one could bear to be held back away from the action. Maybe it was as ostentatious a display of power as his estate was, the foliage rare and the walls of stone that had to have been imported, let alone simply transported across the country. His taste in women seemed to span the ages and nationalities as he did not discern between any one body type, although it was also quite possible that none of the women, dressed in smartly skimpy attire ranging from lingerie to a sleeker, more refined type of fetish gear, bore their natural bodies anyone. And that was fine too. It only proved that he was more than able to shape those around him to his will, regardless of his position in the world, his power in his world completely and utterly absolute.