Homecoming Hypnotism Ch. 06 Pt. 02

He slammed into her, feet planted and eyes locked on her breasts, her chest filling his vision. It was hard enough to breathe in such a situation, let alone to thrust, and he ground up over and over again with all the strength left in his body, desperate need curdling through him as if it had simply been waiting to be unleashed. And it needed to be released too, so very badly, a pounding, sensual drive flaring up, licking at his soul with the bite of a demon that he had not quite yet welcomed into the lust of his life.

Maybe that eroticism too would soon come to light but he had so much more left to do before he took his next step into learning, pushing the limits of a master's power all for the sake of what he could do. And who knew how far that could be?

Mark huffed and panted, a hot, sweaty flush searing down his neck, skin showing up red in needy patches. But no one would care that he needed something, only that they were there and able to give him just what he needed, which was all that really mattered. They knew it and he knew it and that itself was a sense of freedom too, something that let him slam and pound into her tight pussy (he made it that way just for his pleasure, over and over again, need building inside him like a tidal wave cresting, still in the white water, off on the horizon.

But an orgasm like that had to be savoured and would sneak up on him whether he was ready for it or not, tipping his forehead forward into her shoulder so that all he could see was her breasts, the softly sweet scent of her filling his nose. Inhaling deeply, he breathed her in over and over again, her hips rising and falling so swiftly that even Victoria could not help but climax on his cock without any extra stimulation at all. Her body was hot and primed for his lust and she cried out passionately as her passage rippled around him, every last inch of her sensual to a degree that he may not have thought possible before the luxury of feeling her pussy wrapped around him.

In that, he joined her in orgasm with a masculine grunt, following swiftly on her heels as he spilt spurt after spurt of hot cum into her, his orgasm seemingly going on forever in a lust addled mind. But he was not with his senses as he slammed in, caught up in the throes of pleasure and power that would prove to be duly intoxicating time after time again. He couldn't stop himself from wanting her and the thing was that he didn't have to. He could have her any time he wanted and one orgasm would never be the end of it as he filled her up to the brim with a hefty load of lusciously thick cum, his sense of virility inflated in the privacy of his own mind.

Yes, Victoria was always a good distraction, one of the best distractions, in fact, but she was not the only one. He couldn't wait to see Sarah too... She would distract him. She would be the one, his sweet, luscious mother, to kiss him and tell him that he'd done everything right, that he was the best master anyone could have ever wanted, that all was right and just as it should be. She was something more to him and maybe that was just what he'd always wanted her to be, a beauty of a woman that was so much more to him than just his mother. Maybe a lover, if a strange sort of one? The beauty of being in Mark's kingdom, however, meant that he was free to love anyone he wanted to and, well, if she was his mother that only meant that an extra little bit of his kinky life had come together just as he wanted it to.

And was that at all a bad thing?

*

Of course, he needed something a little kinkier to truly relieve the stress that that toad of a man Trevor had built up in him. Nothing had come of their interaction, however, and nothing would if he had anything to say about it as everything he wanted matched up with what they wanted. Truly, they would come to see that the whole thing had been a complete and utter waste of time and apologise to him if they had any ounce of sense in their bodies, although he doubted that societal class would permit them to do so, as was the way.

Let them stew and let them think whatever they would. It would not impact him. He was the king, after all, and it was about time he let them know that.

There were more still to enslave, even though they were, technically, already under his control. He just hadn't done anything with them yet and their lives and bodies were there, ripe for the picking when he could convert the sexually fraught to a life of delicious debauchery. Dressed in his Sunday best clothes, smartly suited, Mark smirked to himself, seated in the back pew of the church. He couldn't have chosen a better spot for things to progress.

That time, he'd gone alone so that he could enjoy the full scope of it without either his lovely Sarah or even Victoria distracting him. There was something about them that made him want them in the moment even though he had his pick and, this time, he really did want to have his pick, taking and enjoying all around him. Those in the church were just as prim and demure as him, although he very much doubted that very many of them believed in a greater power and the lord. It was a thing that people did, not realising that there were other powers in the world to pay note to also, powers that they could see and understand even if a god had to take belief without evidence. And that was alright for some. They could take that belief and make what they wanted from it at the end of the day. It would not affect him and his kingdom, not really. He'd keep on with what he wanted and relieve the inhibitions of those who needed his love and service as the king.

Sunday though... That was a day of worship and rest, although the man in question had absolutely no intention of doing either of those things. Oh no... He had far kinkier endeavours in his mind ready to go and he whispered the incantations over and over under his breath that he needed, transforming the women in attendance...

It was not immediately obvious what he did to them, at least at first. But he knew it was happening, just how those thickly lustrous cocks grew under their skirts and dresses, all of them dressed as women should be dressed at that time. The men in attendance wore smart pants or suit pants, like Mark, but they didn't have the equipment filling them that the women did, their cocks already hard and desperate as they deliciously rose and rose to attention. Throbbing up thick and full, they pushed up their skirts even as they tried to push them down, some twisting and others hunching forward as if that alone would be enough to hide the true status of their condition from their husbands and families.

There were no children there, of course, for Mark would not subject children to adult endeavours; that was not what his world was about. They would be children in places suited to children and their joys while the adults had their chance to play, a black-haired woman with curls bouncing whimpering as she leaned over her bag, holding it in her lap with trembling fingers.

"Oh... Please..."

Her husband looked at her strangely but his control ensured that there was no undue concern for they would all come to relish and enjoy their new additions. All was fine and well in his kingdom but he could not deny that he enjoyed their confusion, fingers aching and wanting to twitch towards those engorged cocks, another set of exact copies of his cock. There were balls too to come and he leaned back with his hands behind his head, a king enjoying the show of his people, as those nuts grew and fell heavily beneath their cocks, adding an extra sense of weight and being that a woman could never have naturally have had before. Certainly, none of the women in the charge would know what the sensual weight of a man's dick and balls was like but now they would never be without it. Just another little gift of his to his people, a kindness delivered in one of the best ways that he could allow.

"Oh... It's..."

Someone moaned and Mark's head whipped around, focusing on a petite woman in a dress that went down to her ankles, heels suitably demure. What he wouldn't have given to see her in stilettos, tottering and helpless, at that very moment but he had to satisfy himself with the fact that her dress was by no means suitable for masturbating and she laid her cardigan over her lap, trying to conceal her growing erection, a wet patch forming and spreading across the pastel pink fabric. She pressed the skirt of the dress down but it wasn't helping and she humped and ground up against her hands even through the material, striving to discreetly masturbate and, well, completely failing at the discreet part. Not that it mattered, Mark licking his lips at the show he was offered.

It was too good, really too good, as the women all tried to masturbate and get themselves off, twisting and contorting and fighting against all hope to hide their conditions. Ah, they did not know that there was no reason whatsoever for them to do that when they could let loose their lust but he enjoyed it all, the tantalising desire, nonetheless, even using his power just a little bit more to make them hornier still. Of course, getting a cock tended to make one horny, as he was finding in the casting of the control spell, but he was still a master new at that game and had much to learn. It was just a good thing indeed that the learning was something most enjoyable for him too.

"Oh..."

Moan after moan filled the church with the domed ceiling, fashioned that way after the buildings that were originally erected as sites of worship, their concealment not getting very far. It was an obvious show and yet all the men looked perplexed, scratching their heads and rubbing the backs of their necks as if they could not understand at all just what their women were up to. Another woman who had to be in her early twenties, not all that far apart in age to him, leaned back against the pew, panting with her cheeks flushed, her diamond necklace glittering askew as she dug her hand under her skirt, scrunched up on one side, in an attempt to alleviate her need, cock pulsing and throbbing in such a way that it could not possibly be ignored.

"I can't... Nooo!"

He didn't know her name but she stood and flailed, her skirt pushed up obviously with that cock. While she could not hold back her lust, blonde hair hanging around her shoulders as if it was a sheer fall of lust that he had to run his fingers through. But he could not interrupt, not quite yet, when there was so much more to enjoy. Her hands grasped that cock under her skirt and yet the men and the priest still looked at her like they didn't know what was happening, although it would not have been seen as an unduly strange occurrence even if they had been aware at that moment.

Pumping and massaging, she grunted like a man as she heaved for breast, bosom trembling, and yet that did nothing at all to soothe the fervour in her soul. More, she needed more, she needed to use that cock, to jerk herself off, to feel that fountain of cum spurting forth, a slick mess that could be enjoyed!

She was the first to go and they could not help themselves, ripping clothes and hiking them up all in an attempt to satisfy themselves while the men grinned and sat back to watch. It was all kinky to them, a lustful display, and mark allowed them the pleasure of seeing their wives and daughters, mother and grandmothers, all falling prey to a baser sense of being, something that led them into the true sense of being that they could well have taken for themselves long ago.

One woman, however, caught his attention more than the rest -- another lady with black hair and a slightly darker hue to her skin, although he would not have possibly have dared to say that she was not American by any stretch of his imagination. She was wearing a Sunday dress with a trim of flowers around the hem, subtle enough to still be formal, but those could hardly be seen as she hiked the skirt of it up around thick thighs and child-bearing hips, a figure that most women would die for. Set back as he was from the erotic scene playing out before him, he was afforded the most luxurious view of her pussy, complete with a curl of dark hair, her tits rising and falling as she put a heel up on the seat, striving to get that cock out at all costs.

It swelled into her hand as if it was meant to be there, filling her palm nicely. Of course, his cock had always been a nice size and he was pleased to see it on more and more women, making them something more than what they were. Even with Stella, it added something to her, a sense of being and power that maybe she could not have reached on her own. Yet it was controversial how it too reduced her to a sex machine, her cock still hidden as she pumped it, everything else around her regarding the men carrying on as normal. It seemed to be a great, big joke that everyone was in on -- the males, that was -- and no one was going to say anything to clue the ladies in.

Mostly in line with that, the men ignored the women, although it was quite clear what they were doing, hands on cocks whether they were skin to skin or through fabric. For they needed it so badly, masturbating in obvious secret, their bodies pressed up against husband and sons as if their convulsions could possibly be mistaken for anything but what they were. There was a particular kind of thrust that came with masturbation, after all, and all men knew what it was, the shift and gyration, trying to hide a hard-on. But they had not masturbated in public before and that knowledge was beyond them as they faced forward, listening to the service and the priest in his robes up top, a genuinely light and gently smile stretching his lips.

They would try to hide it but they could not hide it for much longer.

Ah, but Stella was the one that commanded his attention most of all, slinking down, although she remained half-crouched in the pew, trembling and poised for action, hair barely brushing her shoulders, although he longed to run his fingers through it. Maybe he would add her to his harem, pounding that pussy while her cock spurted and spurted, a hot load of seed flowing out to seed the ground on which they walked. It would further boost his kingdom, the home town that he had enslaved all to fuel his kinky desires further and further.

"And now, if all would please rise..."

Stella didn't need to stand but the cluster of bodies around her shielded her at least somewhat from the view of anyone who may have possibly sought to stop her. She didn't know that all were under Mark's control, of course, and her cheeks flushed heavily as her cock pushed out the front of her skirt, showing off the goods on offer that she had not even had before. How it had come to be she could not tell but all she knew was that she had to cum, she had to get off, had to feel that rush of pleasure that had to be coming at any cost necessary!

She stopped with the congregation around her, quivering with her heart in her mouth, although she was by no means aware of Mark's eyes on her, boring into her back as she sealed away her whimper behind pressed together lips. Every woman in the congregation was in the same boat as her, of course, with the outline of their hard cocks easily discernible through the fall of their clothes, all the same uniform shape and size. Otherwise, it would have been a marvel that all looked so alike, the bulge there of the perfect size, although no one made any comment as to the state of the women there.

Stella, however, was the worst of them all, her shaft drooling pre-cum, or at least feeling like every drop that came forth was an unstoppable flood, balls churning with raw, masculine need. She wasn't meant to be like that! And yet she needed it, needed it so very badly, so badly, indeed that she would do anything to get it, panting obviously, her cheeks flushed and hair awry. And yet the only one there that was looking at her was Mark, knowing that he was making it even worse for her as he sent her sexy image after image, things she could be doing with him, her potential future husband (he was non-existent at that time), Mark in her mind's eye, bending her over a pew and fucking her until she screamed in climax. She didn't know who Mark was either at that time but she could only see him as the hottest person in the world, whimpering under her breath and sitting down slowly with the rest of them, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead and hands folded over the shape of her cock in her lap, not that it really managed to hide anything at all.

She had to cum, had to get off, but there was no way to do so, sitting still and trembling like a leaf, her father on one side of her and her mother on the other side. He would see if she moved and she could not move, had to stay still, had to hide the shame of her desire, her need to cum, to climax, to shriek and moan and maybe even pound into another woman in her desperation. Wouldn't that be something if she could, indeed, take another woman to bed, kiss her, adore her, relish in the soft fall of her hair. For there was a sensual beauty to women that men simply could not match up to and that was just why she had a cock now, to please them and be with them, providing the grinding slam that they so badly needed in their craving for companionship.

Mark smiled, sharing Stella's mind as he teased her with images of his mother, making the slightly older woman -- well, middle-aged -- the sexiest thing she had ever seen in her lifetime. Stella would crave her, lust for her -- and yet she had not even met her! It was incredible what he could do, truly, it was, but he didn't stop there, imagining his mother fucking Stella too with another copy of his dick, the two of them putting on a show for him in his private chambers. While one rode a dick, the other would grope and tease the other's breasts, both glancing over to him as if they knew well enough and understood that he would not once take his eyes off them as long as they had their lusts up and need rising for him, the passion their king allowed them to have.

Yet he could not leave poor, dear Stella stewing in sexual frustration, as much as he was keen to allow the rest of the congregation to linger in such debauchery. They would come to their highs later, he was quite sure of it. But Stella was a special case, having caught his attention, and he could not say that she was at all listening to the priest deliver his sermon any more, her need focused on something else. And yet there was the perfect victim beside her to use with a hard cock too all ready and hot to go!

So close to cumming, her hand pressed down on that cock, Stella bit her lip and swallowed a moan, eyes rolling. She couldn't do it, it was all going too quickly, too hard, too fast... She needed it and yet she could not get it with her own hand, not daring, all of a sudden, to shove her hand up under her skirt again for that skin to skin contact that she so very desperately craved.

A touch on her arm made her jump and she squealed, although no one looked her way. Her cheeks could not possibly go any redder than they already were but she still flinched and gasped, heaving for breath, her tits rising and falling as if she was actively striving to draw attention to them.

Her mother, Rachel, smiled and rested her hand on her thigh and it was only then that Stella finally realised that her mother too boasted the outline of a cock in her long skirt, although she was not bothering to hide it. Orchestrating everything from his back pew, Mark smirked with lewd delight as they came together, the traitorous embrace ramping up, the mother leaning in to whisper something in Stella's ear.

"I'm here for you."

And she would be there for her in far more ways than any normal mother would, letting Stella moan and whimper so very sweetly in her ear, leaning against her for the support that only a mother could give. They may not have been wearing clothes that suited such discreet activities in the middle of a church hall but her mother wasn't going to let that dissuade her from letting her daughter know just how much she loved and cared for her.