Homecoming Hypnotism Ch. 05

“For this special bread, my lovely wife Stella here must be naked, so that Greg now can loosen the baking pan.”

“Oh!” Sarah giggled. “But there’s no pan! Where is the pan, Harold?”

Yet that was one question that he too had anticipated and the man smirked, tapping the side of his nose as if he too held a great secret in check.

“My son will demonstrate, if you please...”

And Greg seemed only too pleased to do so as he removed his clothes too, although that part of the scene seemed to blur out, providing ample entertainment for the women. Mark only smiled. He knew he’d be the one, either way, to see to their needs later, reminding them of whose kingdom they resided in at the end of the day or night, regardless of anything else. Greg grinned handsomely and slipped up onto the table between his mother’s legs, showing them all just what he had to do in order to loosen a very particular kind of baking pan.

For that baking pan, indeed, was Stella’s pussy and he pushed in as his mother moaned, wrapping her arms around him as he covered her with his masculine, muscled body.

“Ohhh, my son!”

Everything about them was a display and Mark loved it, relishing in just how his kingdom had flourished, all under his rule and command. Greg grunted, sweat beading on his brow too quickly as he fucked her, keeping a slow, steady pace that filled her with each and every stroke. His cock clearly stretched her out with each and every thrust but Stella didn’t seem to mind in the slightest as she moaned and lifted her legs up and around his waist, all to give them a better performance of the act of bread making, the special recipe that had been in their kinky family for generation upon generation.

“This is the part where Greg here,” Harold explained, “must push the ‘pounder’ in...and out. And repeat!”

Even Victoria was enraptured, eyes fixated on the luridly lewd scene playing out before them, Mark’s hand on her buttocks. With a little wriggle of her hips, she slipped back into the persona of the woman she had been so many years back and ground into his hand as if she wanted him too to fuck her right then and there, the arch in her back showing off her body to its best extent. But Mark was too focused on the show to pay too much attention to even his lustful grandmother as she pressed into his hand, Greg picking up the pace with his mother.

“Unnff...”

It was as roughly a masculine sound as anyone could have ever have been able to force out but that wasn’t going to stop Stella from moaning out and enjoying his lust. He fucked her harder and faster, hips working furiously, until she clung to him and screamed out her passion, breasts pressed up to his chest as if she couldn’t get him close enough to her. He didn’t stop fucking her but kept right on going, huffing and grunting as he pounded her near violently, his thickly muscled thighs rocking even the heavy table as he covered her.

There seemed to be no end to their lust as he made her climax again in short order, the woman’s rosy cheeks turning to the side facing them, lips parted in the exultation of a climax that she would not have wanted to hold back. No, she was far too much woman for that even though Greg had to hold back only enough so that he would not orgasm too quickly, the need to climax clawing and writhing desperately in the back of his mind like pests that they had to work at keeping out of the bakery.

One more... Just one more. He snarled and grunted as the show went on, her legs tight around his waist, thick thighs holding him there. Where he was muscle, she was soft, fat moulding in all the right spots, shaping her body into the voluptuous vixen Stella truly was. Her lips parted, gasping for life-giving breath, and she arched up against him as if drawn there by an invisible string, as passionate about the process of baking and lovingly forming their bread as anyone could have possibly have liked the family to be.

Harold watched reverently, his hard cock out and on show, although his aching fingers did not twitch to it, despite the raging need in him. This was for the baking and not for him and, thus, he had to hold back, at least a little. It would all be worth it for the bread they would produce, the glory that was his bakery in Mark’s Kingdom.

Stella heralded her third and final climax of that moment with a long, low, drawn-out moan that seemed to have no end. Greg heaved a sigh that contained every last scrap and drop of withheld orgasm and she groaned beneath him, luxuriating in every orgasm that was her own to claim, lust as high as it had ever been as her juices soaked his dick, staining the table beneath them.

However, the dough had to be inserted and Greg removed his cock from her with some measure of difficulty, part of him clearly wanting more, wanting to fuck her harder, to reach his peak too. That, of course, would come to him in time but he had to focus on the loving process of bread-making, taking the lump of rested dough that his father handed him. It was so large that he had to hold the slightly yellow lump between two hands, although it did not appear to be anything sexual before it was shaped.

“Where’s that going?”

Mark could not have said which of his women said that as he watched, enraptured, as Greg revealed the trick to the special bread and slowly but surely inserted the dough into his mother’s pussy. The bread pan! He shook his head reverently. What a trick, indeed!

“Ohhh!”

Stella moaned and pressed her feet flat to the table, lifting her hips so that it would be easier for him, fingers working and pulling her folds out and to the side just so that it could slip into her easier. Her natural lubrication helped slip it into her pussy but -- oh! It was too messy and Greg’s fingers slipped and slid, pressing into the dough and pulling off torn chunks, until he stepped up into the next part of filling the bread pan.

His cock was a better tool, of course, than his fingers and he shared a sweet kiss with his mother as he used his still-hard dick to work her full of the dough, the savoury dough taking on a sweet note with the cream of her juices. Deeper still, it had to go, and he was just the man to perform the task, thrusting and grinding, using his dick to sink it in deeper and deeper, as deep as, truly, it could possibly go.

Eventually, however, he had all of the dough inside her and stepped back and away with a hard cock drooling with pre-cum to allow them to praise him for his work, a lightly sweeping bow denoting grace to praise. It was all in the course of his work, of course, but there were still good times ahead to be had for him, his shaft pulsating with desire, needs yet unsatisfied to completion in that regard. But his cream, of course, could be used in other parts of the baking process, aphrodisiacs for women to make them more appealing all over again for their husbands, sexual goddesses that could not help but drag their men to bed by their ties and collars.

Harold cleared his throat, one hand, finally, lazily drifting to his cock as if he had forgotten about it in lieu of watching the process of lusty bread-making.

“This is the beginning of the process... I hope you have enjoyed it! For the special taste of this bread, however,” he went on to explain, near enough rubbing his hands together in glee for what he was about to divulge. “This bread... Stella must have an orgasm every two hours for it to acquire that, ah, special taste. It is unique and no one does it as well as us!”

After tasting the bread before, Mark could only agree and even Sarah gave a small murmur of appreciation, her mouth watering in anticipation of that oddly creamy sweetness of the bread that was soon to become theirs.

“It will take one day to be complete and go through the baking process too,” he let them know with a smile. “Please, you may pay when it’s ready and we shall ensure that it’s the best batch yet!”

There was no further reason for them to stay after that and Mark shook Harold’s hand on his departure, assuring him that they would all be duly satisfied by the produce he had to offer them. Why would he not be when it was all, well and truly, the best of the best? Of course, Stella was left there behind them with Greg ensuring that she was well pounded and the dough firmly shoved up inside her, bringing her to orgasm after orgasm with his cock, mouth and fingers. Nothing, of course, was too good for his mother and they kissed passionately as she lay back, settling into staying on the table for hours on hers, all for the passion the family held for bread-making alongside so many other pastries. And who only knew what went into the making of those...

They walked down the street hand in hand, enjoying the day as they mused between stalls, all offering different delicious foods or, in many cases, sexual wares. It was there that Mark found stalls of sexy harness that he could dress up the ‘ponies’ that he had pulling his carriage and he had Victoria pay with money she’d pushed up into her pussy, the vendor accepting the soaked bills and coins as if they were a treat to be had indeed. There was no distaste to be had for the sensuality of bodily fluids in his kingdom and everyone knew that even as he selected sex toys for them to try out.

Mark, of course, didn’t need toys to be used on him. He already had a whole harem and more again still to make use of.

“Special creamy milkshake... Mark, how about this one?”

Sarah smiled and brushed his sleeve with her fingers, hand trailing down and down as if it was destined to accidentally land on his cock. Of course, that act was nothing but deliberate and Mark shuddered into her touch as he could not help but rock forward, thrusting as if craving more intimate pleasure there out in the street. He could do that if he wanted to but the advertisement of a milkshake with a cherry on top had him salivating and, so, he led the way with his hard dick, leading them into the shop at the head of the family, as had always been the place that he’d been meant to take.

Set up like a diner combined with a milkshake bar or parlour, two large women with huge breasts -- bigger even than Stella’s -- giggled behind the counter. But they could not move from just where they sat with their boobs hanging out, shaking what they saw as their best assets, forced to merely wiggle in place as they were connected to the main milkshake machine itself.

Mark murmured his soft appreciation as the cups around their breasts, clear so that they would not hide their chests from show, pulsed and drew streams of creamy, light-coloured milk. They were nothing more than cows in such a situation but they certainly seemed to be happy about their cheeky sort of predicament as they sat there, buck naked, and laughed to one another about how ticklish the pumps were, tubes connecting those cups to the machine itself.

“They’re impressive, aren’t they?”

A man with an easy smile and an apron on (nothing else though) waved them up to the counter for a better look, Sarah only holding back a little. She was still the shyer of the two favourites in his harem, Victoria steamrolling ahead so that she could lean right over the counter for a look. Her eagerness was something that Mark had only seen in her in a non-sexual way many, many years ago when she’d gotten excited about something and thought he was not looking. It was a part of her personality that she had sought to hide away for her whole life but he could at least be glad that, under the hypnosis of his kingdom, he had been able to unlock that in her. Still, he did not need to exert his control over her too very much anymore, which was a pleasure to see her obeying and loving him with more and more of her will and yearning.

Not all had to be forced. Other things could be influenced. And some things too let to be.

So, Victoria laughed and pointed out the women, clapping her hands together with nearly girlish delight. Gone was the prim and proper woman who remembered her younger days fondly and yet loomed in arrogant high society in her present ones. In his kingdom, she could be anyone and do anything -- as long as it aligned with what Mark too wanted her to do, that was.

“Would you like some milkshakes? We have lots of flavours today!”

The salesman behind the counter, of course, had to make his sales and pushed for it as the milky maidens moaned and squeezed their boobs together, even scooting closer to one another, the curves of their waists drawing the eye along them sensually, one pair of breasts teasing up against the other. Of course, the cups and pumps got in the way but that didn’t bother either of them as they groped and massaged all they had to offer, seeming to delight too in showing them off. And yet the man behind the counter with his little hat and apron was still waiting on an answer, his smile gloriously white and fixed, providing the best service possible for all customers at his trademark milkshake parlour.

“What flavours do you have? My harem only has the best.”

Sarah moaned and leaned against his shoulder, shivering lightly. Whether that was due to the kinky scene or something he’d said, however, treating her as his, only she would know and seal it away for tantalising later perusal. It would all be worth it, however, once she got some of that creamy goodness in her mouth, suckling it all nice and deep, straight down her throat...

“They’re all up on the board,” he said, gesturing to the menu above them, “but we do also have strawberries and cream, chocolate cookie, frosty berry and, of course, true milk divine! That one’s our biggest seller when we can get the ladies in to produce the best milk, hey, girls?”

They nodded their approval, happy to be on show and demonstrating, once again, just how the machine worked, their heavy tits sucked into the cups as an ever-increasing stream of milk flowed into it, filling up the machine that dominated the room. It was a good thing that it was on the quieter side, to be fair, otherwise one may have expected not to even have been able to talk what with the colossal size of it.

“Do the shakes taste different if it comes from different tits?” Mark asked, an eyebrow raised as Sarah ‘ooohed’ -- she hadn’t thought of asking that for herself. “They look...delightful.”

And no one could argue with that as the man serving up the milkshakes grinned and dropped a wink that said far more than his words.

“Why don’t you try both to tell for yourself?”

Like everything else in Mark’s Kingdom, that sounded like an absolutely fantastic idea and the ladies laughed to see him sitting down with two milkshakes -- but not before he got to witness the pumps going into overdrive on the big-titted beauties sitting behind the bar. They stood and moaned, rocking and jiggling as they showed off their boobs for him, not strapped into anything bar what was needed for their breasts as it was hardly as if they were going to go anywhere when they were already having such a good time.

“Of course! What flavours?”

Four flavours came out of it: cookies and cream, frothy banana, vanilla bean and, of course, true milk divine. Who, after all, could pass up the opportunity to try that one? While the man in charge made up the shakes, drawing lusciously thick cream from a spout on the side of the machine itself before adding syrup, Mark shook his head, merely marvelling at the fact that there was so much milk that could come out, frothed and whipped up into a thick shake already, although it still needed the flavour of syrup. Of course, there was a special one for the true milk divine made, as the server explained, with double thick cream from the ladies who were so very kind as to produce it for them and that came from a special container, thus labelled and carefully rationed as a special item.

“Mmm!”

Victoria smacked her lips as if she was about to dig into a true feast indeed, an extravagant spread laid out just for her. But there were more than enough milkshakes to go around and they could have as many as they liked as there was no limit to be had in the milkshake parlour. That was just one of the many perks to be had in Mark’s Kingdom where the milkshakes flowed freely and there was always enough delicacies for everyone, most of all him and his special harem.

As they were milked, fresh cream pouring directly into the ‘milker’, the women moaned and leaned in against one another as if for some sense of solidarity at a time where they needed it the most. It must have been hard for them to be so on show day in and day out but they were breathlessly poised and ready to perform, eyes shining in simple, wholesome adoration for the work that they were so tasked to perform. And, sometimes, that was all that they had to take from life, one sexy milkshake at a time.

“Order up!”

Shake after shake slid down the bar to them, complete with little plates and sauce. Topped with a generous helping of whipped cream too and a cherry on each one, there could be no doubt as to just who had produced that special cream too, although the soft, milky shades flowing through True Milk Divine were what caught the eye the most, tempting in their subtlety.

Closing his lips around the straw, Mark took a sip while Sarah and Victoria giggled and played with the cream, free to act out and play with it under his hypnosis. Maybe it was not something that they would have otherwise have done if he had not enlightened them to liberation but there was something freeing too to being able to take a cherry between one’s lips at their age, toying and twisting the stem free and into a sexy little knot, if only to demonstrate their prowess in the art of...well... That much was obvious!

And the milkshake was, by far, the most delicious that he’d ever had. True Milk Divine flowed into his mouth like the elixir of the gods, flowing over his tongue and sweetening up into the back of his mouth. He was almost (but not quite) loathe to swallow it but he knew that there was more of that tantalising milk to come, the milky flow sweet and thick, a treat that could not be forgotten in a hurry. Sarah slurped accidentally at her strawberry shake and giggled, covering her lips demurely with her fingertips, although Mark would not allow her to be so shy for even a moment. With a grin, he reached over and unbuttoned the panels covering her breasts, letting them spill out as he fondled them. She moaned, milkshake temporarily forgotten, and he played with her nipples, rolling them lightly between his fingers, the smooth skin of her areolas rising against the tips of his fingers as if they were actively trying to draw attention to themselves.

Or maybe that was just the lure and wiles of her nipples, just how her breasts claimed his attention, his drive and his desire. Truly, it was no wonder just why he had chosen his mother to be first in his harem, bringing her hand absently to his mouth to kiss the back of his hand. And yet he still imagined, even then, just how her hands would wrap around his cock again very shortly, pumping and massaging and drawing out the orgasm from him that, again, was sorely needed.

Victoria drained her shake and slid it to the side, breathing slightly heavily, a froth of cream on her lip.

“Mmm... Now, that is most certainly one of the finest I’ve ever had.”

Mark couldn’t agree more. In her dominatrix get-up, he didn’t have to remove anything to reveal her breasts, although her pussy was, woefully, hidden by how she sat on the bar stool, perched with her legs together. It was how she would naturally sit and, well, he would not have usually have taken that from her but he saw no better way to enjoy his shake, drawing more and more of that feminine, milky goodness into his mouth, than fingering his sexy grandmother.

“Let me see more.”

There was no push of his will upon her that time and Victoria laughed lightly, spreading her legs instantly for him. His kinky best friend and grandmother alike, she patted her hair into place at the same time as spreading her legs for him, allowing him to see her honey pot, the light fuzz of hair there not enough to cover up the tattoo on her crotch that branded her also as his. And there was nowhere else that Victoria would have rather have been, moaning as his fingers pushed into her, easily disappearing into her hot, wet snatch, always ready for action.