Succumbing to Menudia Ch. 05

"You'll let the girls explore all your secret fetishes?"

"Yes!" He was so close ...

"You'll dutifully serve as a subject within my vast research project of male sexuality?"

"Yes! Yes! All of it!!"

Julie, mimicking Rachel, proceeded to lick the inside of Mason's left ear.

Menudia fell silent, lost in thought, for what seemed like an eternity.

"Very well then," she finally sighed, almost with an air of disappointment.

Virtually drowned out by the new, tantalizing notions of pleasure and obedience, one last independent thought suddenly popped into Mason's brain: Danielle.

He wondered if, somewhere out there, against all odds perhaps, Danielle still hadn't been taken. Perhaps she could magically rescue them? Because he knew that he was quickly about to become useless in that regard.

The faint glow in Mason's eyes began to turn disturbingly bright. A deep, ineffable sorrow fell across his soul, only to fade and shift into a calm, druglike euphoria. The most anxious pieces of his personality cracked and shattered and drifted away from his spirit, as Menudia slowly took over.

That vision he'd had earlier of his own face contorting like Emily's had back in the meadow? It hadn't been so much a vision as a premonition. A crystalline emptiness permeated his skull. Even his most embryonic of thoughts were vanishing into Jen's hand.

And it was wonderful.

With three quick, tiny flicks of her wrist, Jen provided that last crucial bit of stimulation.

Menudia's visage radiated coiled satisfaction as she spoke the words she treasured so dearly, and yet rarely got the chance to employ face-to-face. "You have succumbed ..."

A high jet of cum shot straight out of Mason's tip, decorating the chandelier dangling from the ceiling before the remainder landed on Jen's cheek, neck, and white t-shirt, the weight of the fluid pushing the suddenly damp fabric firmly against portions of her skin, a small clump grazing Rachel's forehead as well.

The incandescence fully overtook his pupils, the tiny speck of hope shrinking into a pathetic little dot in his cornea and dying out for good.

The last one had been taken.

"... to Menudia," the sorceress finished proudly.

Mason's mind had turned into a docile, empty cipher, its only occupant being Menudia's words, which he heard both from her lips and from within his own skull.

The girls whispered eerily in unison: "Succumb! ... Succumb! ..."

The second jet flew even higher, staining the ceiling before coating several strands of Jen's hair on its way down, as well as her steadily shaking arm. Vanessa thrust her head over Mason's right shoulder and feverishly proceeded to lick his pleasure off Jen's soft locks.

Not wanting to be denied the precious taste of fresh virgin's cum herself, Emily quickly leaned across Mason's chest in an attempt to slurp a chunk or two off Jen's cheek, only to find herself directly in the line of fire of his third release, which landed smack under her chin and down her neck.

Rachel and Julie slipped their tongues out of his ears merely long enough to join the others when it came time to chant "Succumb! ..." before continuing with their aural fun.

Squirt after squirt shot into the air, Mason's gel now mostly being expelled in front of him rather than straight up, traveling in a slight arc until it trickled down onto the tiles of the floor roughly two or three feet in front of the group, where it briefly glowed white before evaporating into a mysterious steam.

Julie maneuvered around Mason's left arm and greedily slurped his cum off the skin of Emily's chin and neck before returning to his earlobe, while Rachel politely shoved Vanessa out of the way so that she could get her own taste off Jen's cheek.

Menudia had seen many a male orgasm in her day, but even she had to admit it: Mason's might have outdone them all. Probably some combination of all that buried tension and repressed libido -- and Jen's expert build-up surely had had something to do with it as well. Ah yes, the pretty little drama queen had come a long way in just a day or two!

As she felt the volume of his streams decrease, Jen stared into what had once been Mason's moody, expressive eyes, and felt a mixture of concern and excitement at the dearth of any recognizable personality within them. Perhaps it was an old instinct kicking in, but for a moment, she wondered if they had truly broken him. Somewhat inappropriately, she thought of a line from Death of a Salesman: "A man is not a piece of fruit -- you can't eat the orange and throw the peel away."

Naw, they had fixed him, that was all. Now he would be the Mason he'd always had the potential to be, she concluded to herself as she quietly finished jerking him off.

When the light finally receded from his eyes, and one last pathetic stream of cum grazed Jen's shoe, she affectionately zipped his slacks backup and buckled his belt. His body was now floating in the room on its own accord, and had ceased giving even the slightest hint of resistance. Noticing the welcome change, Emily released her grip on Mason's left arm and calmly hovered against him.

Mason felt glad to be a Menudian. Why had he resisted being a Menudian? For the life of him, he couldn't remember why. Every word Menudia spoke was true, and benevolent, and could never be questioned.

A new clarity washing over his eyes, he could finally see her figure in full detail: gorgeous, entrancing, and yet somehow still terrifying in a distinctly sensual sort of way. It was like staring at Aphrodite, Cleopatra, and the Hindu god Shakti all at once.

"I'm so glad you've finally joined us, Mason."

"I'm glad too, Menudia" he replied in an unnervingly vacant tone that fully conformed to the tone of any other freshly-taken Menudian. That trademark caustic wit and acerbic tongue? Nowhere to be found.

After all that song and dance, he was just like all the others.

"Girls, aren't you glad?"

"Yes, Menudia."

"Now ... I'm sure that took a lot out of you. In time, you'll find that your body will be able to resume its pleasure-emitting abilities much more quickly. But your very first one ... it's quite understandable, really. While you recharge, and prepare yourself for so much more, it's time for you to take the opportunity to enjoy these five lovely women floating next to you. Go ahead. You'll find that they're just as eager as you are, possibly even more so. Start wherever you see fit."

Mason's warped, nebulous mind was blank. Where to begin?

He turned to Jen on his right, and slid his tongue down her throat.

Jen had kind of figured Mason would have chosen her to be his first kiss, but she hadn't quite expected it to go like this.

A good start, a good start -- but what about Emily? She was floating to his left, his for the taking, ready for whatever.

Retracting his tongue through the petite brunette's lips, he then turned to Emily and went where her body suggested she wanted to take him. In contrast to Jen, his kiss with Emily was almost sensitive, romantic -- not what he would have expected from the bratty, tempestuous blonde, but equally enjoyable in its own way, with the tip of his tongue merely darting against the tip of hers.

Then it was back to Jen, his mouth exploring hers like it was searching for lost treasure of the Incas. Then back to Emily, for that sweet, delicate, more lingering type of kiss.

How silly of him not to have taken advantage of this opportunity earlier!

During his third frenching of Jen, he suddenly remembered: oh, right, he had hands! Going on instinct, he brought his right hand against the back pockets of Jen's tight denim shorts and playfully squeezed, their tongues continuing to get to know each other down to the last molecule, his hand staying put as his head swung back to Emily for her more smoldering, subdued kissing style.

Jen to Emily, Jen to Emily, back and forth, back and forth -- he knew the other three girls were floating right behind him (Julie and Rachel dragging their fingers against his sweater, Vanessa still massaging his buttocks through his slacks), but there would be plenty of time to get to them all!

With his right hand happily resting inside Jen's back right pocket, he slid his left arm around Emily's waist, and, when it was her turn again for another kiss, he did something he'd wanted to do ever since he'd laid eyes on her that first year at Scared Saints: he gave her breasts a nice, firm grope through her light blue polo shirt, her nipples pressing into his palms under the fabric.

Then when he swiveled back to Jen, it was time to give her a similar treatment. He brought his right hand off her ass and began massaging her chest directly over the "Menudian Girl" logo on her white cotton t-shirt, his fingers noticing various spots that were still a little damp from the residue he'd left only moments earlier.

All the while, Julie and Rachel continued to rub Mason's back and shoulders, sneaking their tongues into his ears whenever they got the chance, while Vanessa contented herself with feeling up his ass, kissing the back of his neck, and occasionally fingering herself a bit.

His dual make-out session continued, the newly-initiated Menudian's hands roving across Jen's and Emily's shirts, down past their denim-covered (and seemingly panty-less) crotches, and over the tops of their smooth thighs.

They'd always managed to dress with such a nice balance of tastefulness and sexiness. Stroking their clothes was fun and all, but he understood one simple truth: nothing was off-limits. Time to let those fingers roam a little further.

Mason's right hand tugged the front portion of Jen's oversized t-shirt out of her shorts and quickly found its way up and under it, her tongue giving his an extra little riposte as she felt his curious digits come into contact with her nipples.

Maneuvering his left hand under Emily's light blue polo top proved to be a bit trickier, as it was much tighter than Jen's t-shirt, but after some charmingly awkward fumbling, it found its destination, Emily tilting her short blonde hair back against Julie's button-up shirt as she enjoyed the sensation of her breasts being fondled by her formerly reluctant partner.

For a good while, Mason's arms made the rounds again, from Jen's ass to Emily's tits, from Jen's thighs to Emily's ass, from Jen's tits (through her t-shirt) over to Emily's thighs, all the while lapping up enough tongue to last him a couple of decades. Time to explore one last region.

Momentarily leaving Emily's chest unstimulated, Mason's left hand joined his right hand in unbuttoning the top of Jen's jean shorts, then quickly unzipping the fly. The moment his right hand made its way across her sensitive spot (somehow he knew, perhaps through his freshly-acquired Menudian intuition, exactly where to find it), Jen's head instinctively snapped back against Rachel behind her and her chest simultaneously lurched forward, her body forming an impromptu zigzag position.

The cute brunette, who was finally receiving her reward for her masterly hand job, couldn't help but think of Shakespeare's poem Venus and Adonis: "Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry/Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie."

As Mason discovered the art of clitoral stimulation, Jen beginning to let out some gasps and whimpers as his fingers alternated between clockwise and counter-clockwise motions, Emily grew strangely envious, and almost impatient. The blonde noticed that Mason's left hand hadn't returned to her yet, so she tugged it toward her belly and dragged it under the waist of her denim skirt. Mason got the idea.

There he hovered, each of his hands now fingering two of his most frequent objects of sexual fantasy, with a silent Menudia gazing on approvingly. He couldn't really complain, could he?

Although Jen had the advantage of a couple minutes' head start, Emily's eyes were already beginning to flicker. By now Jen's mouth could barely stay in place long enough to allow his tongue inside it, so he switched to sucking on her neck.

"Make me come, make me come ..." she pleaded.

He could feel her abdomen preparing to release the energy he was stirring from within her as he flicked and flicked and flicked, her hips tightly cradled by those fetching jean shorts. When he turned to attempt to french Emily with particular aplomb, he discovered that she, too, could barely keep her lips from darting in surprising directions, but he gave it his best shot.

By this point, all Jen could manage to express was a whiny, pinched "Nnnn!" Hearing this whine and realizing that Jen was about to beat her to the finish line, Emily whispered "Wait ... wait ..." in a tone of fevered desperation, clearly hoping that she and Jen could climax in unison.

But alas, her short, literate classmate was too far along to contain it, leaning forward with an especially brutal "Nnnnn!" as her eyes lit up with the tell-tale shift in hue.

"Succumb! ..."

At last it was Mason's turn to whisper, as he kissed and licked the soft skin of her neck while she squirmed and trembled against his right side.

All the while, Menudia looked on attentively.

"Very good Mason, very good ..."

Simultaneously annoyed and turned on that her rival had beaten her to it, Emily pressed the base of Mason's palm against her clit and proceeded to grind heavily against it in little circles. Just as Jen's exclamations began to grow quieter, Emily let out a series of weird breaths, and Mason felt her entire body clam up against his left hand as her mouth closed, her eyes beamed, and she quivered for several seconds in her little polo shirt and jean skirt combo.

Ah well. She'd tried to time her orgasm to coincide with Jen's, and she didn't really manage it -- there was merely about a five-second overlap between the two of them, if that -- but it felt glorious to finally get there anyway.

For a girl who was such a loudmouth, Mason found Emily's strangely quiet orgasms to be rather charming.

"Succumb! ... Succumb! ..." He whispered to his angelic Czech and German-American schoolmate.

Sensing a brief window of opportunity, Julie leaned over Mason's left shoulder and scored a quick kiss of her own, with Rachel cannily doing the same from behind his right shoulder. Then Vanessa flew a couple of feet above his head, bent over (the bottom of her white crop top briefly slipping down past her breasts), and gave him a playful upside down lick, dragging her tongue from the bottom of his chin up to the bridge of his nose, before slinking back behind him and pinching his rear again.

Now Jen's body had calmed down enough for Mason to resume his exploration of her pearly-white dental features, his longtime crush's tongue probing his mouth in return with post-orgasmic gratitude, as Emily's cunt quietly recoiled against his left hand, the skin of the back of his palm feeling slightly chafed after having rubbed against the inner lining of her jean skirt, the blonde staring straight ahead like some sort of braindead, inanimate doll.

Eventually Emily finished as well, the last ripples of her orgasm vanishing gently toward the stone walls, and after receiving a lovely "I hoped you liked that" kiss from the olive-skinned virgin boy on her left, she regained her composure and hovered there dutifully.

"Ve-ry nice," Menudia observed. "I see you're making up for lost time already."

Mason let his fingers wiggle out of the girls' garments. After Emily snatched up his right hand, brought it to her mouth, and gave herself a taste of Jen's juices, and Jen instinctively did the same with his left hand, his arms fell limply at his side, like a soldier awaiting orders.

"I think it's time you slipped into something a little more ... comfortable. Don't you agree, girls?"

"Yes, Menudia."

Jen took a moment to quietly zip up her shorts and tuck in the front of her t-shirt.

"Help get him started, please."

Vanessa tugged the bottom of Mason's beige sweater upward, as Rachel and Julie lifted the arm nearest to each of them, carefully pulling the sleeves over his exhausted hands, by which time Menudia's magic kicked in and did the rest. Meanwhile, Jen and Emily untied his shoes and wiggled them free of his ankles until they floated off into the castle air, with his socks shortly following. Then Jen unzipped his khaki slacks once again (by now being no stranger to this), and she and Emily quickly yanked them down his legs in fits and spurts until they likewise became airborne.

Rachel and Julie unbuttoned his white dress shirt in tandem before freeing it from his arms, then doing away with his white cotton t-shirt as well. Finally, in almost one swift motion, Jen and Emily slid his boxers past his somewhat hairy and yet surprisingly muscular legs, and Mason hovered there in his birthday suit, although not for long.

One of Menudia's patented cream-colored satin robes danced along an invisible breeze through one of the grand hall's many doorways. Mason extended his arms as if he knew the drill, and the robe slipped onto his frame, the sash tying itself around his waist like a final bow on the package (and over his package).

His eyes shutting from drowsiness, he flew into a room directly behind him, landed onto a soft bed resting on a brass frame, and fell into the deepest sleep he'd ever known.

*****

As his lids parted, Mason found himself lying in a tiny, unfamiliar room (one presumably located some distance from the grand hall), slowly recalling where he was and what had recently transpired. But before those rather pleasant memories had the chance to fully reconstitute themselves, he sensed someone approaching.

A voice in the distance, perhaps? One of the other five girls? Mason knew it was time to rise and embrace the next step in his Menudian indoctrination, whatever it might entail.

"Mason?" The female voice sounded uncannily familiar. "Come into the next room -- whenever you're ready."

There was something highly comforting and reassuring about that voice, as if it communicated a long-developed trust and intimacy. It almost sounded like ...

Mason floated off the bed, stretched his limbs within their long satin covering, and flew through a passageway on his right, into a much larger room, almost like a ballroom, featuring a high ceiling and tall, lightly-tinted glass windows. A thin brunette, approximately in her mid-30s, flew into the same room from a passageway on the left, at the same relaxed, dreamlike pace. Upon seeing her, he felt his chest flood with nervousness and excitement.

He should have guessed.

Danielle.

They had taken Danielle too.

Only a few hours earlier, the revelation of his trusted school therapist finally falling prey to Menudia's warped, twisted ways would have horrified and appalled him. Funny thing was ... he had also fallen prey to those warped, twisted ways. So, if she was now a Menudian, and he was now a Menudian ...

"I'm so pleased you have finally succumbed to Menudia." There was a delicious tingle in Danielle's speech that he had never heard coming from her before.

Although every garment she'd worn to the picnic, for all intents and purposes, was still present and accounted for, one subtle alteration suggested the stark psychological transformation she'd undergone: while still sporting her flannel long-sleeve button-up shirt, short black skirt, and knee-high leather boots, the shirt was now tied up in a flirtatious, Rachel-esque knot around her navel, and was apparently the only piece of clothing sheltering her breasts from the castle air, her bra supposedly having been jettisoned somewhere along the way. Her shiny black hair danced beguilingly around her ears and neck.

"It is a pleasure to serve Menudia," Mason replied.