Homecoming Hypnotism Ch. 03

Homecoming Hypnotism

Chapter Three

“Pacta Sevanda.”

Ah, it was all coming together so beautifully, so very beautifully. Mark smiled as he sat back in the chair that had belonged to his father, a glass of whisky in the correct glass clasped lightly in his hand. No longer did he feel the need to hold it so tightly that his fingers shook for fear of dropping it and angering his grandmother: those days were long gone. How strange that she had thought that she deserved anything of the right to control him even when he was of that age, the age when a man could take a glass of liquor at his leisure and no one else would have ever said anything at all to him. If he dropped it now, he knew and understood just who he would be instructing with no more than a casual flick of his fingers to clean up the resulting mess.

It was good to be the king.

Of course, Helga was unsure about that but her eyes glazed over as she slipped under his control too, the German maid with her head bowed, dress simple and not at all like the fetish kind that he imagined for the real maids of the household now. She would still care for what she did best -- he didn’t have any intention at all of doing her out of her job -- but there were others now who could do more in her stead, allowing her to come back into herself just a little. And he only needed her on his side, her lips sealed against what she saw happening in the household, regardless of what she thought of it.

“Do not speak of anything you see here,” he said quietly, eyes boring into her blue ones, blonde hair neatly and smartly tucked back in a prim bun. “No underwear. And that dress... See to it that something more fitting is donned. A French maid’s costume of the appropriate style and fabric for durability too should be easy enough to procure.”

He planted the image of the dress in her head easily: a skin-tight ensemble that was nothing like the cheeky, frilly outfits that may have otherwise have been worn to bounce and flirt through a job or even to tease a lover in the right circles. No, this one wouldn’t cover the luxuriously short and soft curls adorning her crotch at all, leaving her bare for his attention and it would all very much be attention that she’d love too. Neither would her breasts be covered and even Helga, under his influence, rocked back onto her short, professional heels and giggled lightly at the image, eyes glittering and dancing with all the mischief to come.

Not everyone needed to be so serious all of the time, after all.

But Mark had somewhere to be and was already dressed for the occasion, leaving his study after finishing his fiery beverage to accompany his grandmother and mother to the opera. They looked as stunning as he hoped they would, Sarah in a floor-length red gown and his grandmother in a similarly elegant purple one that shimmered into swathes of silver, colours shifting in the fall of the fabric. Although he would have normally have ordered a chauffeur to drive them to such a grand event, he took the wheel himself gallantly for the ladies in his harem, the first of many, the opera awaiting them.

The opera hall was as splendid as he remembered it to be, heart pulling fondly for the memories held there, watching enraptured by the figures that danced and spoke from the stage, ballet and theatre coming together night after night. The opera singers, of course, were the ones that took centre stage at the end of the night, however, and he still remembered the thrum of their powerful, vibrant voices searing through him like a physical force, rendering him a mere spectator to something more.

But now he was the one in a position of such power too in a high-up private box surrounded with velvet curtains, thus positioned so that no one else could see into their private abode. The ladies had barely seated themselves when he turned to them with a smile on his lips, their mind control leaving them nothing more than attentive servants, sweetly so, before his might and power.

“Check your purses.”

Mark smiled as they moved to obey instantly, not a single flicker of hesitation in their expressions. On the contrary, his mother looked eager as she dug into the purse she had brought along with her, a larger pouch than what she may have usually have carried merely for show. It was always the man, regardless of the event, that paid for events like the opera and she had no real reason of it as it did not carry any feminine products either for touching up one’s make-up in the intermission either as she may have normally have thought to bring. No, little flaws and discrepancies like that in her appearance would only make everything all the more real and sweeter in their execution as she exhaled softly, lips parted, and withdrew a fat, pink dildo from her purse.

Victoria unearthed a similar one in a fleshy tone, veins depicted and standing out lightly from the smooth ‘skin’ of the faux phallus, balls bulging at the base for grip and, of course, to ensure that the toy did not disappear inside its intended playmate. It was rather too long for something like that to be a threat to a woman but there were always incidents with anal play to take note of and Mark had not gotten so far without knowing and understanding just a few of the things to avoid. His grandmother let out the tiniest, most exhilarating, little moan as she eyed it, lower jaw slack as if she simply could not believe what she was holding. And even Sarah could not contain herself as the heat of the moment intensified, notes from the opera powering through, closing in on them from all sides to herald their intoxicatingly erotic tryst.

His grandmother’s long jewellery hung down over her collarbone, diamonds glittering in that alluring sparkle. And yet all Mark wanted to do was to curl his fingers around that expensive string, the chain of wealth, and expose her for what she was in tearing both that rope of rocks and her dress from her body, admiring the hot and heavy spill of her breasts as they were freed from undue bonds. Maybe she had never truly considered her sexuality before coming into his harem and kingdom but that was most certainly something that Mark and his mind control hypnosis was going to delve into more and more as time and the years went on. And they had plenty of time left together to enjoy that exploration too.

In fact, perhaps it was time to move on to the next stage...

“Release your breasts,” he breathed, voice husky as his own arousal grew, swelling and thickening up obviously in his trousers. “I want to see them. Both of you.”

No rush: never again would there be any rush. Anyone who opposed their fun, his kingdom, would be swept under his control too, perhaps made into another member of his harem or just a servant for his kingdom too. Already, he had Helga under his influence, although she was not, by far, the one that he wanted to focus the majority of his attention on, just a passing influence and a little piece on the side that could entertain and keep him from boredom from time to time. She would be interesting enough and she would keep his attention when it wavered and strayed from those that he had been thinking and fantasising about from the time of which he became of a mature age to do so.

They moved to obey, shoving their dresses down to allow their tits to come on display, heavy flesh yearning for his attention. He had chosen their dresses for them specifically so that they would have the stretch and flexibility to do this without being torn, of course, just so that there would be no untoward questions when leaving the opera house. That side of public exhibitionism was not within his realm of inclination, heart pounding and cock hardening even further as he groaned and opened and closed the fingers of one hand repetitively, the watching very nearly unbearable.

Yet not quite. He could hold back, lick his lips, and enjoy the sight of Sarah kneeling before him, dress folding beautifully, perfectly, under her knees and shins, breasts tipped with perfectly pink nipples that were already perking up in the relatively cool and comfortable air. Mark, however, was far from cool and comfortable as he nodded to the dildo that she, once again, picked up, anticipating his next command with her mind control languishing around her, removing the need to think from any kind of equation.

“Very good... Both of you: masturbate with the toys for me. As lewd as you think will please me.”

Sitting back in his comfortable, plush chair with just the right amount of give and cushioning, he relaxed and settled in to enjoy the show. Fine beverages were provided for such valued customers of the opera but he had asked that no ushers disturb them; a request that, of course, would be respected. They wouldn’t have wanted to spread bad feeling amongst those who gave them such valuable business over and over again, after all.

And just what better place could he be in to watch them moan and grind, uncaring of who could or would hear them, before him? Victoria sat back in her chair, legs spread and dress hitched up crudely around her hips to show off all that she had on offer, eyes sparkling in the darkness. In that moment alone, she could have been a much younger woman in another time or even another place, daring her lover to take her where watching eyes might land on them at a moment’s notice. The diamonds glittered down her throat and chest, pointing towards her breasts, sagging lightly with age and beauty alike, drawing the eye to them as if Mark would have even have been able to ignore their sweet allure to begin with. Her nipples were darker than Sarah’s and, perhaps striving, fighting, to imagine just what would rile him up the most, his grandmother groaning softly as she rubbed and teased her breasts, fingers lightly brushing her nipples to draw them into their little, light peaks of ardent desire once more.

With bated breath, he grunted thickly and watched, unable to tear his eyes away, as she took her breasts in both hands, rolling and massaging them as if she simply could not imagine anything at all more alluring than that sensation alone, head spinning and hips rising for the thrust of the man before her. At least, that’s what her hypnotised mind imagined for her, playing out the scene as she lost herself down and down and down in the mind control, no escape to be had. He could not resist the temptation to lift it a little, however, allowing her mind to catch up with the very act she was performing, the lewd slut on display with her tits out in the opera house. How far, indeed, had she fallen?

“Ohhh...”

Horror and embarrassment flashed across her face as Victoria shuddered but she could not even quail, trapped under his influence as she was. Mark had her well and truly and she bit her lip hard, feeling far too empty without a dildo inside her, her anal passage sore and lightly stretched after being forced to wear the plug for so long. The mere fact that he had not ordered her to go out with it seated within her spoke volumes but her mind was not to think about that, spiralling into abject humiliation as she could not stop groping her own breasts, squeezing and manipulating them as if she was a young man faced with his very first pair, all for his attention and his alone.

No denial, no sense of stopping. She could only continue, wanting something inside her, the need growing and growing more and more with the course of every passing second, a heated fervour that she could not resist. She had to have it! Not Mark, that was, but her eyes landed on the dildo with rampant intent and she snatched it up desperately, the tip somehow finding its home between her lips and pushing in deep.

No... No, it was too much and yet the embarrassed heat that flooded her cheeks came with a delectable throb of desire, neck blotchy with humiliation -- and yet the thought of stopping did not even cross her mind. Mark had her far too securely within his grasp for that and, of course, there was a show to be getting on with too.

Sarah was far from idle while Victoria toyed with herself for Mark’s attention and approval, on all fours with her dress pulled up too, breasts heavily swinging beneath her as she moaned and instantly shoved the dildo deep up into her aching cunny. It was wrong to not have something in there, as wrong as it felt too to be doing such a thing out there in the open, the eyes of opera on her. He broke her mind down further still, making her feel as if she was right out there on the stage that they were well enough supposed to be looking at, performing for an audience that could see well and truly just how much of a wanton slut she was, obedient to her king.

His mother’s moans grew breathy, one arm shaking with the strain of holding up her torso, the other snaked around behind her to control the grinding, thrusting dildo. She could not stop and neither would she have wanted to, shivering with the delicious sip of embarrassment of being so on show. How could something so wrong feel so right at the same time? And maybe that was just the trick, the thing that she’d needed for so many years, grinding her hips back onto the toy as it filled her so well, crammed all the way up to her cervix with each and every stroke. Even that was not deep enough for her and she whimpered before her king for more, breasts wobbling heavily as she rocked and humped, buttocks raised up for his attention.

Mine...

Mark licked his lips and sat back, pulling out his aching shaft and clasping it in one hand for his pleasure. Orgasm leapt to the forefront of his mind but he patiently pushed it away: there would be time for that later and, well, he wouldn’t have wanted to leave a mess on the opera house seating, would he? Better to spend his load into a tight, needy cunt or between a whore’s lips and he had two of them both ready and whining and waiting for him right there before him.

“Harder.”

Victoria was not quick enough to obey, just the tip of the toy teasing her pussy, and he locked the full force of his will on her as she shivered and melted before him, slumping back into the hair, one of her feet, clad in a heeled shoe, kicked up over the arm, twisting her body at an angle that had to have been uncomfortable. She wasn’t thinking about that though as she sank the toy deep into her pussy, moaning long and loud and surely disturbing other patrons as the thrum of vocalisations mingled with her lust, the singer belting out the pitch of their song, paying tribute to all that was taking place. Of course, those who were performing could not have been aware that a very different kind of performance was going on at the same time and yet Mark was glad all the same for the atmosphere they provided.

Again and again, Victoria drove the dildo up into her sloppily wet, needy cunt, harder and faster as she fought to keep up with Sarah. The younger woman was more flexible and pushed her hips back to her master as if she was begging him to fuck her without words, need evident. Her cunny squelched lewdly each and every time it swallowed up the toy and even the insistent push of it against her innermost barrier was not enough to stop her, to make her go more gently and easily on herself.

After all, she had to please him. She had her king to please and he was always watching.

Crying out more and more loudly, Victoria managed to hump her hips up, turning her head sharply from one side to the other and back again, orgasm rising with the throbbing crescendo of the music. Her breasts ached for attention but she only had two pairs of hands and she moaned for more, slamming the toy in roughly and coarsely, desperate only for that ultimate release.

“And now...” But Mark was right there to interject as she got close to the edge, turning her gaze helplessly up to him as she slipped further into the realm of humiliation, debauchery rendered out at its finest. “Both of you. Use the toys on each other. Kiss. Show me your love.”

Sarah was quicker than Victoria and straddled the legs of her own mother, wet pussy pressing down on her legs, as she kissed the older woman deeply. With passion that pleased her king, she moaned into her mother’s mouth and tangled their tongues together, rocking her hips to grind even that dildo deeper inside her, using Victoria’s leg as a little bit of leverage. Victoria still was not to be outdone as her heart and mind rose swiftly to the challenge, an arm going around her to yank the toy out with the brokenly muffled crow of a woman who had triumphed over abject adversary -- although what adversary she considered that to actually be remained to be seen.

Slowly, down to the floor. There was nowhere enough room in the seats and they had to find room, make space, kissing fervently, desperately, needing the release of pleasure that their very own embrace provided for them. Victoria groaned into Sarah’s mouth as if she was a long-lost lover, trembling fingers tangling in her luxuriously thick hair, but it was Victoria who had the presence of mind to do as their king bid, using her own dildo on Sarah even if it left her woefully empty, pussy clenching down on nothing at all. She needed more, slamming and grinding the dildo into her daughter as if the very act of it was her last resort, shuddering and yet not able to move even an inch away. It was wrong, it was right, it was everything and every decrepit fantasy that Mark fed into her sordid mind and so very much more too. So, just why should she fight it for even a moment longer?

Victoria’s orgasm hit her first, however, as Sarah managed to get her own toy up into her mother’s cunt, uncaring of how hard or how rough she was with the woman that she should have loved and cared for. And she did, in her own way -- only that way was now controlled and dictated by Mark, the man knowing what made them tick or, if he didn’t, simply wishing the notion to be in their own minds.

Howling and grinding against her daughter, hands fumbling anxiously, Victoria flushed heavily in the humiliation of her orgasm, although even she, caught up in mind control as she was, could not have honestly have said just what was so embarrassing. All she knew was that her skin crawled with it, itching and sweating, and her breasts ached for a touch that she could not understand. Yet what did a whore need to understand when they were wrapped up in orgasm, a slave to the desires of another who did not any longer care for what she wanted for herself? Maybe she’d brought it on herself over the course of time but all of that was by the by as she moaned and rolled her hips up, shamelessly demanding more and more, orgasm ripping through her.

That did not stop her from hammering the toy into her daughter at the same time, each and every breath ripping at her lungs. And yet her orgasm just seemed to keep going, bursting on into another one all over again, her daughter moaning out her pleasure as she too twisted in wonderful climax. Two generations came together, grinding and rocking as they kissed and moaned, the kisses, at least, stifling away their moans from the ears of other, rather confused, attendees at the opera, the music and clash of cymbals covering up just a little of their sordid affair. Even if they had been asked to stop or walked in on, the embarrassment only would be there and not the will to stop -- an entirely separate notion altogether.

On and on... Mark directed them, making them suck on one another’s tits, Sarah spending a good bit of time licking and suckling at her nipples, tugging them out lightly from her body with her lips and teeth. Victoria groaned and could not help but arch up into her touch, her aged, tender body but an instrument to be played to the whims of lusts as yet untold. Her head spun and spun as her daughter’s tongue pulled at her tit, swapping between them so that nothing was left untouched, without her caress, and she didn’t even see Sarah as her daughter anymore in the dark of the box, the opera forgotten on the stage below them.