The Alchemy of My Remaking

THE ALCHEMY OF MY REMAKING: YELLOW

INTRO:

The Code:

Yellow is the color of trust

Orange for royalty

Red for lust

Brown for the richness of the earth, coffee, cocoa, and crude oil

There were sophisticated ladies and there was Lady M. Everything about her was out of a fifties Hollywood movie. She used a long filter to smoke cigarettes. She wore long gloves and wide-brimmed hat. He sensuality was unprecedented. I lost to her that night. It was well past the witching hour. The game was Texas Hold'em. The price: my indentured servitude for a year. I should have known better than to tangle with a head witch who was at least a hundred years old. Yes, this was the world where witches lived and breathed. No doubt, she was beautiful and kept that way by magic. Imagine if you reached the age of a fit forty and just stayed that way until-or perchance-you met death by misadventure.

The limousine drove through the fall foliage at dusk. The ominous black gate opened and the car proceeded to the countryside manor. I slept and breakfasted and that's where it all ended. There was a hubbub of activity. There were unseen servants madly flitting about-that is they were white-gloved hands magically animated to do her bidding. She did have one human servant: a Swiss-speaking, very tall blonde, in a classic French maid's outfit. She wore black spiked heels and no underwear and was always bending over in front of me to do dusting with a little, black feather duster or pick something up.

The last thing I remember was her bending right in front of me with those perfectly symmetrical, dark and lush lips. There was no hair upon her lips and when she bent over far enough her clit protruded out. It was as if some great generator fired up in the loins. I could hear the engine hum-then everything went black.

The next thing I knew I was in the middle of a large, classic salon. There were many women gathered about me-perhaps thirteen. I was naked and manacled with my hands behind my back and my legs in manacles bolted to the floor. I awoke in the kneeling position. My mouth was gagged and I had throbbing hard on-painfully so.

I caught a glimpse of the the women around me. I had never seen her coven. Once again I was transported to the Silver Age of Hollywood. They all reminded me of some actress or another: Marylin Monroe, Rita Hayworth, Greta Garbo, Veronica Lake. They had used sorcery to mold themselves, to stay young, to be beautiful. It was exhilarating.

There came sharp strikes across my back. "It keeps its eyes down!" Lady M kept striking me until I complied. "You are not worthy to set eyes upon such beauty," she said. Someone blurted "What a slug."

Ms. Lake walked up to me and followed the contours of my chin with a gloved finger. "He's fit enough, but I would have preferred something a little younger."

"I think we should begin sissy training immediately," Ms. Monroe said as she walked behind me and fingered my fundament.

They were drinking and talking; was much commotion. Garbo squatted down before me. She wore a veil. She had a short, black skirt and no panties. She opened her legs wide so I could see. She fingered herself then and removed my gag and slid her finger into my mouth. "There, there, little slave. What a nice prick you have." She held my chin with her gloved hand and said "You may look." She touched the top of my swollen member with her finger. She stroked it, then she produced a yellow ribbon and tied it around my manhood. I almost came. Yellow.

They all seemed to resemble starlets, but it would be too confining to say they came from a certain era. They had airs and strong sexuality that they flaunted. They had husbands and fortunes. This was a pattern that was repeated decade after decade, perhaps centuries. Whether their husbands were agreeable or cuckolds didn't matter. I wrested some comfort in imagining them cuckold. These women seemed pleased with a slight twinge of bitterness. they never worked, they socialized, they fucked, they plotted, they schemed, they turned people into pawns. This was the hidden magical world. I knew for sure that any threat to this coven would be eliminated immediately. My attention was drawn to an open window. A black cat jumped from outside onto the windowsill, jumped onto the floor and shape-shifted into a witch in black. "Sorry, I'm late." She grabbed a drink from a silver platter and gave kisses and hugs all around. Garbo drew my attention back to her by touching her finger to my chin.

"I think it likes what it sees."

"Thank you," I said.

Garbo withdrew in horror. "It speaks. Why Lady M, you haven't taught it a thing." Lady M ran over and shoved a ball gag in my mouth in the shape of a bright yellow lemon in my mouth and strapped it on; it took the place of the bit I had before.

"Since when the does it talk. That is the last time it will ever speak. Oh dear, there is much discipline to do."

Ms. Hayworth stood before me and spoke to Lady M. "I should like to give him a golden yellow shower and then stroke myself until I spray my quim all about his face and chest."

"There will be plenty of time for that, but first we have to train him right." Lady M was stern.

Ms. Lake stood before me and removed her black, spiked heel. Then she stroked my cock with her hosed foot. "Can we make his cock bigger. I want a beast to fuck me. I want him horse hung."

"Well, he's already quite well endowed," Lady M interjected.

"Bigger," said Ms. Lake and walked away.

Ms. Monroe cooed. "I hope he likes to suck dick. He needs something in his ass. Someone grab a horsey tail."

And so began my stay with Lady M.

This is the alchemy of my remaking.

To be continued...