Homecoming Hypnotism

Homecoming Hypnotism

Chapter Five

Mark tossed and turned in sleep but his dream was not anything that would have woken anyone in the lack of glamour and sensuality of a nightmare. The sheets wrapped around his body as he turned and smiled, cheek pressed into the pillow (only the best fabric and goose-feather stuffing) for a little cool while the heat of his dreams ramped up and up.

In his dream world, he could love and have sex with anyone he wanted -- even his mother and his very own grandmother. Of course, that was not the case in reality, even though he did just that with his family, them hypnotised and under his power and control. He waited in line at the bank with his family, smiling at how other people around him were down on the floor, fucking and enjoying themselves even while they waited.

As usual, he wore a large, oversized crown, golden with rare stones set into it, although he was a king of diamonds rather than anything so far less gaudy or simple. He was not a ruby or a sapphire and not even an emerald, after all, although he took all kinds of women into his lusty harem. No, he was a man in power and could take what he wanted over and over again, his slacks designed so that his cock hung out, hardening even there and then with such a lewd show going on around him.

Sarah and his grandmother stood on either side of him, slightly back, although that did make it difficult, slightly, for his hands to cup their backsides, feeling their firm arses and what their bodies had to offer him. His grandmother, Victoria, murmured slightly, eyes alight with her body on show, clothes cut away over her tits and arse. He wouldn’t, after all, have wanted to hide those away when they were already so very lustful, her body offering so much to him. There was so much to Mark’s Kingdom and he had to take it, slipping his fingers into his mother right then and there, lazily fingered her even as he enjoyed the wait. Just what else was he supposed to do?

“Next, please!”

“Oh, is that us?”

A mother-figure ahead of him adjusted her pearls while her adult son smirked and pounded her pussy, cock slamming into her over and over again in a lewd squelch and slap of mixed sexual juices. She bent over the counter at the bank and panted heavily as she managed to get out just how much money she wanted to withdraw but it was not as if her son was going withdraw as she went about her business. And that was just the way it was in dreamland: Mark’s personal brand of dreamland.

It was not a dream, however, that he wanted to wake up from, adjusting his golden crown with his hard cock out and still ready for more. Yet there was a waking in his dream as he rolled over, his cock in Sarah’s mouth, in his own bed all of a sudden, although all was so very different to how it had been before. His room was grander and more luxurious, a four-poster bed rising above him in a display of wealth that only he and those allowed into his boudoir to see. Sarah’s lips closed again around the head of his cock and he grunted in the back of his throat, eyes rolling back under closed lids, breathing shortly and shallowly as he luxuriated in the sensation, lusting after every last drop of it that she dared and proffered to give him.

“My pet...”

His words slipped from his mouth as if he was releasing a kiss and his mother let out a moan, pushing into his hand as he tenderly tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. It felt right to leave his hand there, cradling her cheek, and she whimpered around the length of his fuck-meat, his best friend and partner in crime now more than his mother, although only time would tell just how their sweetening relationship would develop. Things, after all, were much better when Sarah was under his control.

She’d worn a dark red night-dress, clearly just for his pleasure, and neither of them paused or minded in the slightest as Helga came in to clean, singing a tune merrily under her breath as she too went about her work. Mark would have said too that she enjoyed the show, eyeing up him and the first in his harem. Sarah pushed her buttocks back and up sexily for the maid, showing off the bareness of her sex, folds swollen and heated for his attention, but it was still more important that she pleased her master, tending to his needs above and beyond all else that could have otherwise have come to light.

She sucked his cock deep into the back of his mouth as he groaned and thrust, almost to the edge of spilling his load already. But it was not something that he had to hold back from anymore, lusting after all around him, and she encouraged him on with delicious little moans and whimpers, the vibrations of which travelled into and down the length of his cock as he edged, patiently tipping over with the sweetest moan that had ever before passed the barrier of his lips. Yet there were no barriers to be had in Mark’s Kingdom.

Sarah’s breasts pushed heavily through the front of her night-dress as she took his load into his mouth, sucking it all down with such relish. It would have been impossible to think that she was not enjoying herself and yet he could not keep his eyes on her as he climaxed, hips jerking and cock grinding, pressing up into the back of her mouth. There was no gag reflex to worry about in his dream world and she gulped it all down sweetly, not even a single trickle of seed flowing from the corner of her lips as she swallowed and swallowed, his cum more virile thane ver.

Helga paused then to admire the scene, a feather duster in hand as she daintily took care of the top of the dressing table.

“Oooh, so nice!”

Yet she did not have to say much as Mark sat up, letting Sarah gulp down every last drop and ensure her mouth was clean of his cum, although the lingering muskiness did not stop him from kissing her deeply and passionately, parting her lips with his as he explored her body, slipping the night-dress from her to grope and squeeze her breasts. It was not right to have those covered up for too long and he lusted after what she had on offer for him, pinching her nipples solely to coax an excited murmur from him, putting on a show for the kinky maid who liked to look as much as she too liked the little power that had been handed over to her too.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, master.”

Obedience may have shone in her eyes but there was something different between them as they dressed, Mark donning similar clothes to what he would have longed to wear out and about in the waking world, slacks with a modification so that his penis could always be out and on display. Sarah reverently cleaned him off with her tongue as she waited on being ordered to dress herself and the ensemble that he picked out for her, sifting through the walk-in closet, was beautiful in its seductive simplicity. It was a beige dress with black slices highlighting the curve of her waist and large hips but the buttons over her tits and pussy allowed for easy access too even if he did not wish, at any time, to hike the dress up over her hips to get into her divine cunt.

Taking Sarah’s hand, he smiled and brought it to his lips.

“Are you ready?”

Of course, she would be either way, but the light he awoke in her eyes blossomed into warmth, softening heat creeping through her cheeks and down her neck.

“Yes, master, I’ve been looking forward to this. You are too kind to me, truly.”

More lovers than players with a power disparity between them, they walked hand in hand to the front steps of the mansion where his special coach was waiting, although it was not one that was to be drawn by horses. Oh no, it was something much better than that, a luxurious, stately black coach drawn by six women in black leather panties with two big, thick dildos tucked away on the inside, deep inside the women who were strapped into the tracing. Agatha, of course, was up front, eyes focused proudly straight ahead as if she could not have been more pleased to be in the very position she was, clenching around the kinky toys locked into her.

Draped in expensive jewellery, including diamonds, their nipple clamps too jingled with jewels and bells, music rising softly from every little shift of weight in their bodies. They were objects of desire, well and truly, and they knew it too, all women from high society, matching nicely up to Agatha, his grandmother, in both age and appearance. They may have had grey hair but their sex appeal had not lessened in the slightest as they posed for him, their G-cup breasts (yes, he knew that even in the span and scope of his dream) hanging heavily, not supported in the slightest by the sexy harnessing of polished, black leather that crisscrossed their bodies. Everything was on show just as it was supposed to be and some of the women at the back shifted their weight, groaning lightly as the toys moved inside them, stretched and spread open just as they were supposed to be, all for him.

He groped each and every one of them in turn, squeezing breasts and, so very lightly, tugging out their nipples just to hear them moan for him. Truly, he could not have honestly have said that there was anything at all in the world more beautiful than that sound, their lips parting as he toyed with them. The bells jingled and he allowed his mother the same attention too as he ascended into the covered carriage with her, the large wheels bidding them to step up and into the carriage as if ascending like royalty.

But that’s just what he was, was it not? With his golden crown and things of wealth layered around him, building up all that he had to deliver?

In the coach resided Victoria already, wearing a black latex dominatrix costume, which contrasted nicely with the women that he had chosen to pull his carriage. They would all be needed, of course, to draw the weight of such a vessel, even on wheels, between them and it was no easy feat for them, even infused with his hypnotic power.

“Pacta Sevanda,” he breathed, stimulating his carriage and charges to fresh life. “Move on and out!”

Like a king of olden times, he sat back and enjoyed the show as Sarah donned a strap-on harness for him, seating it carefully around her hips and thighs, the faux-cock jutting out from her as unnaturally as ever. The backsides of those pulling his carriage bounced and jiggled in front of them and they all seemed to know exactly where they were going without a coachman to direct them, although Mark had access to the driver’s seat and a carriage whip with a long tail too if he needed to deal out any measure of seductive correction during the course of his journey.

Of course, that was going to be difficult to focus on as Sarah moaned and groped and squeezed the cock at her crotch as if it really was her own, lips parted as she put on a show for him. She rocked and gyrated up against her mother as Victoria took it all obligingly, sharing a cheeky wink with Mark as if they were both in on some big secret held just between the two of them. But there was little that she could do to influence proceedings even in her saucy get-up as Mark bent Sarah over at the waist, spreading his feet to keep their balance in the rocking, jolting carriage even as he slid his hard cock deep into her cunt.

Sarah’s moan should have drawn attention to what was going on between them but there was no one there that was not going to enjoy hearing the sound of her sexual pleasure. No, everything that came from her painted lips was music to his ears as she took him deep, the hilt of his shaft disappearing as she lusted after him, craving more. Her heart beat quicker and quicker and she arched back for him, her dress perfectly highlighting her curves, although it was the frame of her arse, the buttons undone to expose the line and curves, that was the main event to Mark in that moment.

And he was going to more than make good use of it, grunting and heaving as he slammed in over and over again. He had his mother right where he wanted her and he used the constant shift and motion of the carriage to help him in his thrusts, his pounding taking on an erratic quality that had him slamming and humping like a younger man again, although he had experience in his hand and court well and truly after spending so long fucking his mother and grandmother over and over since their hypnosis.

Sarah whimpered for him, panting so sweetly, eyes open as she took her mother’s hands in hers, clasping the wizened, gnarled fingers in her own with a low, soft moan. Mark shuddered, eyes locked on Victoria, although he no longer needed to influence or exert anywhere near as much of his will over her as he had in the past. And that was not simply because he was in a dream.

No. It was because his reality too was far better than a dream ever could have been.

“Bend...” He panted heavily, chancing a smirk and a flash of a smile for kinky dominatrix Victoria. “Bend...over.”

As if she was going to say no to something like that! How kinky! Instead of taking a top role, she pushed her arse back like a slut who just needed a cock in her, even though it was not the cock that she really wanted -- Mark’s dick. But Sarah’s strap-on was a close second as her daughter fucked her, pushing the toy cock in to the hilt. She didn’t need lubrication to shove into her mother, trusting her mother’s pussy to soften and yield, and Victoria did it beautifully even as the carriage rattled along its way.

“Oh... Oh, yes!”

She cried out for Mark as that dick powered its way into her, crammed up against her cervix and yet Sarah kept right on thrusting and pushing. The inner barrier would not give way and they both knew that but the slightly uncomfortable sensation of something being ‘pushed’ up inside her let her know she was right where she was supposed to be. And that place satisfied her, moaning and crying out her lust as she arched back, her aged body standing up to the lustful abuse, wanting more. Always more...

There never would be enough to satisfy Victoria, her breasts on show with a cross laid over the nipples, holding to her skin seemingly without any outside stimulus. Mark’s eyes hungered for her as she lavished there, clinging to the door of the carriage on the opposite side, the interior plush crimson, shimmering in luxurious satin. Victoria could not have been more stunning in that moment than she already was, moaning and throwing her head back, every inch of her resonating with a sense of vibrancy that simply could not be denied. Her breasts swung and her dominatrix get-up showed off the lines of her hips, studded in silver and teasing down the lines of her body as if she was, in fact, a much younger woman.

And that was just what she envisioned herself to be in the moment, a sexual vision of beauty incarnate, grinding and humping back onto that faux-cock as if she couldn’t get enough of it. It needed to be inside her, especially as she didn’t have anything in her arse at the same time, and she heaved out a moan, stretched out between Sarah and the door like a piece of furniture -- a very active, sexual piece of furniture! But she was just where Mark wanted her to be as he growled and hammered into Sarah, passionately slamming in until orgasm once again rose in him, moaning out his lust and pleasure, ecstasy fluttering up in a spurt of cum.

Sarah gasped as he filled her, caught between the two of them, Mark dictating her thrusts at the height of the moment. Cum spilt viscously out of her, a thick deluge, and she tried to moan with no sound coming out. Orgasm was not to be hers quite in that little interlude but she was simply happy to have the gift of her master’s cum all over again, buttocks working to tease out every last drop of seed from him as Victoria panted for breath before the two of them, lips parted in a half-smile of desire. Soon too, she would have her fill.

The object of their visit was a small bakery in the centre of town, marked with a sign outside that blew back and forth gently in a breeze that tickled their skin. Victoria’s breasts and pussy were covered again for going outside, simply because Mark liked the look of her like that, knowing that he could rip her attire open at any given moment and fuck her again, take her out in public -- that was part of the fun of being the king!

“Ah, King Mark! I thought you would never arrive!”

The baker’s mother greeted them warmly, her hands white with flour, although she was quick to usher them inside, a shorter woman who was wonderfully curvaceous, no doubt from consuming so very many of the delicious pastries that their bakery was known for. However, Mark was there for something entirely different that day and not just the sweet fare as he had more than enough of that manner of sweetness at home. No, this particular little bakery was known for its bread and he had heard that they had a very delectable way of making it that he surely had to get in on.

“Come now, ladies.”

He gallantly offered an arm to both Victoria and Sarah and they took it giggling, Sarah pressing in closer while Victoria clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and joshed him lightly in the side with her elbow.

“King Mark! Now, what are you like?”

He smiled and adjusted his crown, although there was no time to find a comeback to that; he’d just have to pay her back in bed later that night. Harold awaited them within, a man with rosy cheeks and a smile that stretched from ear to ear, with his son, Greg, who was the spit of him, a young man also in his prime that may have otherwise given Mark a run for his money with his burly arms, muscled and ripped from kneading dough and all the work he was put to around the bakery, being the strongest and youngest of the family.

“I would like your special bread, please,” Mark announced as Victoria tittered, clearly in on the joke, the joke that her ‘best friend’ had at play. “And a dozen loaves too!”

Sarah blinked, not knowing what was going on but that did not matter as Harold led them into the back room with the oven, heated by a fire, as was traditional for their special goods, and a large, long, wooden table. Mark trailed his fingers over the knots in the wood, polished smooth from the work of so many hands, the air scented sweetly of dough and cinnamon.

“The bread!”

Harold stood tall, clapping his hands together in a soft spray of flour, although his smile never once faltered or shifted from his face.

“Well, this is a very special bread, you see, King Mark, and I will need Stella and good George here to help me make it. Stella, if you would, please.”

And, just like that, Stella stripped down, removing one article of clothing after another, starting with her apron and her cardigan, although even that had cut-outs over her breasts that could be unbuttoned at any time. The whole world was in on Mark’s kingdom! And Mark was simply left to lean back on his heels and enjoy the show, the baking process set to continue in the lustiest of fashions.

“Ooh, got to wriggle my way out of this one, won’t be a moment, dear!”

She was putting on a show for them, of course, and Mark appreciated it as he admired her thick thighs and big backside, how her body moved as if to a beat that he could not hear. The pulsing grind of her hips made him want to dance with her too, to fuck her, but he already had his there to enjoy, Sarah moaning as she pressed up against him with wide, staring eyes.

“Oh, Mark...”

Stella revealed her massive breasts as she poised there for only a moment before laying back on the table, her legs hanging over the edge. Her backside pressed flat to it and she giggled, swinging her arms up and over her head as if even she needed to grab the far end for some sense of stability. The table itself, however, was so large that she couldn’t reach it and merely stretched herself out luxuriously there, the residue of flour and yeast clinging sensually, softly, to her skin.