Succumbing to Menudia Ch. 03

"Bring him to me ... onward, my darlings ... we must take things slowly with this one ..."

*****

As Curt glided beyond the village, his shadow initially flickering across a cluster of untouched, crystal-clear lakes beneath him, then across the rolling hills that stretched to the east, time seemed to have simultaneously expanded and come to a peculiar stand-still.

All the while, that enchanting voice, its origins unclear, continued to echo in his head, beckoning him to fly closer ... closer ...

At last, the blonde-haired neophyte and his five comely escorts swooped down between two imposing stone watchtowers, into a stately courtyard, and through a pair of polished brass doors, before entering a regal hall -- red and purple velvet curtains hanging down the walls, a glittering glass chandelier swaying from the ceiling.

And there, on a carved wooden throne, at the far end of the hall, she sat.

The one who had taken him.

No collection of phrases in the English language could have done her beauty justice. Some horny teenage male leaning back on his bed with his manhood in his hands imagining six different supermodels, of six different races, with six different faces, all coexisting within the same body, might have been somewhere in the ballpark. Maybe.

Only by squinting his eyes could he even get the faintest look, as her entire being radiated a blindingly golden glow.

Her hair, the color of which seemed to constantly shift from blonde to brunette to red to silver, was flawlessly coiffed. Her top, some sort of white blouse or cropped button-up shirt, fluttered about her ribs unbuttoned, revealing her stunning breasts to the room -- most likely the first naked pair that Curt had seen up close with his own eyes (if they were indeed breasts, or if Menudia was indeed "naked"?)

It was all so strange.

A cream-colored cloth hovered slightly over her crotch and thighs, gently swaying between her legs. To call her the sexiest woman he had ever seen would have almost been silly, as she seemed to exist on a plane beyond "sexy" or "unsexy." He wasn't even sure if she could be considered a "woman." The mere sight of her rendered his mind numb.

Perhaps aware of her own visual power, Menudia spared Curt any further confusion, and tilted his figure up toward the ceiling. Soon he found himself hovering flat on his back, unable to glance further at the creature to whom he had openly given himself.

"You have succumbed ... to Menudia," she spoke proudly.

"It is a pleasure to serve Menudia." He began rotating slowly in mid-air.

"How about these clothes?" she asked, briefly turning to the girls, as if in consultation. "I think they're quite nice but ... wouldn't you like to wear something else, my dear?"

"I will wear whatever clothes you would like me to wear, Menudia."

"Mmmm ..." She thought for a moment. "Let's get you into something a little more ... comfortable."

And with that, Curt's arms jutted straight toward the back wall while his white t-shirt flew over his head. Then his sneakers untied themselves and fell to the wooden floor below, quickly followed by his socks. Finally, his cargo shorts and boxers drifted past his ankles and floated through a passageway to his left and out of sight.

Angela, Emily, Julie, Liza, and Vanessa, lurking across from Menudia and beneath Curt in a semicircle, could all see that he was quite ... well-endowed.

A long, cream-colored satin robe flew in from another of the several nearby rooms in the castle and, when Curt extended his arms once more, it slid around his body, the flimsy, delicate belt tying itself loosely around his waist.

"There. Is that better?"

"Yes, Menudia." His stiff member bounced freely against the fabric of the robe as he resumed his turning.

"A virgin - how delightful! You may or may not know, but male virgins are perhaps my most cherished prizes of all. There are two others in your group, as I understand it. I will take them in due time, of course."

"Yes, Menudia."

"And I believe we also have a female virgin within the ranks somewhere? When it rains, it pours, as they say. Ah, but first things first."

He soaked in the steady rhythms of her voice, his brain continuing its feeble and inevitably fruitless attempt to comprehend the nature of presence.

"You are one of the lucky ones. The others had to fumble their way through nervous, awkward, half-unpleasant, pressure-packed let-downs. But you, Curt ... oh yes, we are going to take things nice and slowly with you, ease you in to the waters, build up your comfort level, until you are truly ready to enjoy the beautiful gift of male sexuality that has been lying dormant within you."

Turning weightlessly in mid-air, the silky fabric of the robe caressing his body, Curt couldn't help but feel so serene, so trusting ...

"Let your mind roam freely. Don't censor your thoughts any longer. Don't worry about what I might think, or what the other girls might think. All of those thoughts that you've kept yourself from thinking about ... you are now free to think them."

Hmm. What were the thoughts that Curt was trying to keep himself from thinking about?

Well, there were those soft pink areolas around Menudia's barren nipples, and that cream-colored cloth softly tickling her thighs and her snatch. Wouldn't it be something to inhabit that little piece of cloth for just five minutes?

Then his thoughts started straying toward the other, decidedly more mortal females gathered there in the room. He thought about Angela's bosom, resting so invitingly behind her white peasant-style crop top. Or Liza's buttocks, poking so prominently against those dark green jean shorts. Or Julie's light brown hair, tickling those soft ears, those cute glasses, and that sensual neck ... or Emily's tiny blue eyes, full of mischievous intent ... or Vanessa's exposed midriff, waiting for supple fingers to stroke it and tickle it ....

"Breathe deeply. All the stress, all the worry, will now wash away."

"Yes, Menudia." She was devoting her full attention to him ...

"Your body is shedding all the heaviness that it has carried within it up until now."

"Yes, Menudia."

"You shall begin to embrace what has previously been repressed within you."

"Yes, Menudia."

Between rotations, the girls could see Curt's eyes gradually turning a brighter and brighter hue.

"All your fears, your anxieties ... all those mental blocks that have kept you from enjoying yourself ... they are disappearing from your body, one by one ..."

As her words filled the room, Menudia, as well as the other girls, noticed the tent-like portion of Curt's robe bounce up and down with additional vigor. Moments later, as he continued to quietly spin, they observed the satin cloth in front of his belly significantly darken. In an oddly subdued fashion, almost unaware of what they were doing, the girls began to chant.

"Succumb! ... Succumb! ..."

Unruffled, Menudia continued weaving her verbal spell. "Your inhibitions are falling by the wayside."

Curt spun slowly in the room as he proceeded to release stream after stream of his inhibitions into the highly absorbent robe.

The scheming sorceress couldn't help but reflect in thought. Ooh, such a sensitive soul she had taken this time! No, it was far from the first occasion where a new Menudian had responded to her little welcoming ceremony in such an "excited" manner, but ... as her mind rifled through the endless inventories of greetings and introductions, she realized that ... well, it had definitely been a while.

"Yes, Menudia."

His tone of voice gave little hint as to suggest that he was experiencing a moment of profound hands-free pleasure. Menudia and the girls continued to marvel at the sight of the cloth in front of his crotch bobbing up and down at strangely irregular intervals.

"Succumb! ... Succumb! ..."

In another context, Curt's five female peers might have been tempted to giggle; instead, they were too busy repeating the magic word, as well as concocting their own special scenarios that would involve a chance to play with their new thick and lively prize. By now the slick stain had expanded across the front of the satin, and his eyes had transformed into two blindingly vacant yellowish ovals.

"You will soon be free to obey your desires, and act upon them without hesitation."

"Yes, Menudia."

By this time, lengthier gaps were starting to separate his moments of discharge. The glow in his eyes grew fainter. The chanting subsided.

"The girls are here to help you. They all adore you. They've adored you for a while, even if they've never expressed it to you before."

"Yes, Menudia."

"In helping you enjoy yourself, they will enjoy themselves just as much as you will -- if not more so."

"Yes, Menudia." He slowly ceased rotating.

"Now, it is time for you to rest. Once you finish resting, the girls will handle the next phase of your initiation. I'm so glad you've succumbed, Curt."

Curt was glad he'd succumbed, too. An immediate wave of drowsiness crept over him as his relaxed penis slinked back toward the patch of blonde pubic hair that grew below his belly button, the stain on the cloth gradually evaporating.

He floated past an array of statues and portraits and into an adjoining room, where he gracefully landed face-up onto a soft red mattress, and entered his first period of Menudian hibernation.

*****

Seemingly hours later (though he had no way of establishing how much time had truly passed), still reclining on the mattress, his robe now magically absent any dampness or pleasure residue, he felt a determined hand stroking his left arm, waking him slowly.

"Come dance with me."

It was Vanessa. Shifting his posture, he could see that she was once again wearing her thin dark green sweater (the one with the small horizontal yellow stripes on it), still paired with her black mini button-down skirt and brown leather boots -- almost as if she'd never been taken by Menudia at all. Oh, but she'd certainly been taken, all right.

"Come on, Curt ... time for me to teach you something." His black-haired schoolmate stroked his blonde hair flirtatiously.

Sleepiness was not parting with Curt easily, but Vanessa repeatedly dragged her hands along his satin-covered chest.

"Bailar conmigo."

Eventually, he rolled off the mattress, plopped himself up onto his feet, and followed her into a small, dimly lit ballroom. A strangely relaxing music, like an alien mixture of synth-pop, new age, and smooth jazz, began emanating from invisible speakers.

She pulled him over by the wall, and began to twirl him around, slide her hands down his back, rub her hips against his rear, the instructions from Menudia remaining fresh in her mind: "Remember: take things slowly." Well, just dancing was taking things slowly, wasn't it? All depended on the dance, perhaps.

After only a few seconds of contact, she could already feel Curt's erection haphazardly poking every which way. Then she turned him around so that she was facing him, rubbed her breasts against his rock-hard abs, and languidly ran her hands down his chest and belly and across the massive tent under his robe.

She could see that his body was not used to even this basic level of physical contact with a cute young female such as herself -- which was all part of the fun, of course.

Spinning him around a couple more times, letting her figure grind against his pelvis and her hands travel up and down his robe, Vanessa decided to simply slide her muscular rear end nice and slowly against his penis, reveling in the way her hips and buttocks could force it to shift back and forth with an almost pinpoint precision.

After about a half a minute of this, Vanessa considered altering her routine, but before she had the chance to do so, she suddenly felt his organ rapidly pulsate through his robe and against her skirt, which could have only meant one thing.

Excellent.

She knew she was a dynamite dancer, but this was certainly a flattering development! The Latina cutie quickly turned her neck and glanced up into her overwhelmed partner's eyes, excited to see that they had been overtaken by that special hue of Menudian yellow.

Without even being conscious of it, almost as if she were merely a mouthpiece for the Menudian energy flowing through her, she began to murmur, "Succumb! ... Succumb! ..."

The first one he'd ever experienced at the hands of a woman, and she was the one who had brought it about! No Menudian could have felt more honored.

Pleased with herself that she had inadvertently induced a climax from her rather sensitive dancing companion, and realizing that nothing made a girl like herself feel quite so potent and desirable as a hot guy creaming his robe against her cute black skirt, she proceeded to wiggle her hips against his penis in small, concentrated motions, doing her best to make his orgasm, awkward though it might have been, reasonably fulfilling.

Soon enough, Curt's pleasure began seeping through his robe, leaving a sticky patch onto the black fabric of her skirt, but Vanessa kept grinding. Eventually his eyes returned to normal, and Vanessa gently grabbed his right hand and turned him around, as if nothing important had happened whatsoever.

She danced with him for a couple more minutes, swaying to the beat of the hypnotic, all-encompassing music, then gave him a lingering, affectionate hug.

"Thanks Curt, that was fun. Hasta luego."

Her tight little ass bouncing away, she walked off to serve Menudia in some other fashion, to which Curt was not privy and was also not particularly concerned with. Spent and satisfied, Curt stumbled back into the room where the red mattress resided, and took another nap.

*****

When he awoke, his robe again miraculously free of male seed, he bounced off the mattress and found himself, by instinct, heading toward a new, nearby room that he could see was lit by only a few mood-establishing candles. Calm, soothing music, more suited toward sleeping than dancing, played from an unknown audio source.

This ... was Menudia's massage room.

"Julie would like a massage," Curt heard the mellifluous voice of his benevolent conqueror instruct him from an unseen realm, her intent quite clear. "Something simple. No need to fully remove her dress, even. There is a bottle of warm oil at your disposal. She is expecting you, but she does not know quite what to expect."

When Curt entered, he found Julie lying face up on a massage table, still wearing her light green floral print mini cami dress, but again without the white shirt she'd been wearing underneath it earlier, without her glasses, without a bra and, apparently, without panties either. A cylindrical pad rested underneath her spine. Her eyes were closed but he wondered if she might have still been awake.

Curt doused his hands with oil, and when he gently began applying the substance to Julie's neck, a tiny smile was the only acknowledgement she gave him that she had noticed his presence.

He slowly let his fingers travel down toward her cleavage. Tempted to hesitate, after a brief burst of confidence, he proceeded to slide both of his slippery hands under the top of her skimpy dress and directly over her erect nipples and lovely mounds.

"Mmmmm ..."

Julie clearly noticed this.

The warm oil being kneaded into her surprisingly tanned skin made a slight squishing noise as Curt smothered every inch of her breasts with it. It would have been hard to say who was enjoying this stimulation of her chest more -- Curt or Julie! As the first pair of bare breasts he'd ever touched, Curt certainly couldn't have done much better than Julie's gracefully symmetrical cones.

Next, he slid the flimsy straps down over her shoulders, and gently pushed the top of her dress past the bottom of her melons, so that the cloth was now bunched up around her abdomen. As he tilted the bottle and slowly let the oil dribble all over her exposed breasts, he heard her sigh appreciatively.

For several minutes, the inexperienced blonde masseur let his curious, muscular hands continue to lather Julie's chest with the slippery lotion, roaming across her ribs, then back up near her neck, then over her shoulders, occasionally devoting extra attention to her exquisite pink nipples. There were other parts of her body he needed to get to, but ... well, one thing at a time. Julie clearly wasn't going anywhere.

Eventually, removing his hands from Julie's chest, Curt scooted down toward the bottom of the massage table, and started rubbing her left foot. Her breathing grew calmer, but she seemed to be enjoying this almost as much as she'd been enjoying the breast play. First the ball of the foot, then the area under her arches, then the bottom of the heel, and back up to the toes ... he made sure not to miss a single spot, before switching to her right foot.

Before he knew it, he was smothering her calves in oil, then her thighs, carefully making his way up to that tantalizing little hem of her dress, his fingers now only inches away from her sex.

With a boldness that surprised even him, he let his slippery digits travel directly over her clit, and watched as her mouth drooped open and her glistening chest curved upward.

This was the sensual massage Julie deserved.

With his left hand, he poured another stream of oil over her breasts and stomach, and then proceeded to thoroughly rub it across her smooth skin, all the while quietly stroking her sex with his right hand.

"Uhnn ..."

Curt then pushed the bottom of her dress all the way up over her belly, and guided her arms through the shoulder straps, so that the dress had now been reduced to one tiny bunch of cloth circumnavigating her otherwise entirely exposed body. Then he moved his right hand across each of her thighs before placing her clit between his thumb and index finger.

"Uhnnnn ..."

Julie instinctively brought her left arm up behind her head and let her right foot dangle past the edge of the massage table as Curt continued to rub and rub, too busy concentrating on Julie to care about, or even notice, his erection pressing against the side of the table. Her head turned toward her left arm and her lips contorted peculiarly.

"Uhnnnn ... Uhnnnn ..."

Curt had been tempted to assume that she was just about there, but to his amazement, her breaths kept rising and rising in pitch -- in other words, she was still quite far from arriving at the peak of her pleasure. It was almost like her body was wrestling with some unseen force, attempting to deny her what was clearly on its way.

"Seriously," he thought, "the stamina of a woman. No way a man could last as long as this." Pleased, and touched, by the sight of Julie's body inching and inching its way to its maximum potential, he simply kept up the stimulation, and watched, and waited.

Her head began to gently flop right, then left, then back again. Every tiny muscle in her body was rippling and squirming, but he did his best to keep his left hand on her oily breasts and his right hand on her clit.

"Hhnnnnn ... Hhnnnn ... Hhnnnn ..."

Julie brushed her left temple with her palm as her breaths finally reached a plateau in pitch, the milky yellow glare emitted by her eyes quietly announcing the arrival of her "happy ending."

He had done well.

"Succumb! ... Succumb! ..." he whispered soothingly, and somewhat unconsciously, as Julie's orgasm rendered her a writhing, slippery, shuddering servant of Menudia. Slowing the pace of his clitoral stimulation, which at this point almost wasn't even needed, his left hand continued to glide back and forth across her breasts as they rose and fell in an unpredictable rhythm.