The Book of Lust 02

My eyes were half closed as I skimmed the lines, barely reading. I never felt like I read this book. It was as if the words were absorbing into me the way a good meal sinks through you. With a feeling of great satisfaction.

"What are you reading?"

The question surprised me, and I started guiltily. The small, leather-bound book — about the size of an airport paperback — snapped closed and tumbled from my fingers to the smooth tile as I glanced up.

The pool attendant, stunning in a white bikini that showed off the bronze hue of her skin and a loose white skirt with the hotel logo that slashed across her thighs, bent down before I could stop her. My eyes were caught, naturally, by the dark valley of shadow between her full tits, and so I didn't realize until too late that she was holding my book gently aloft in her fingers.

"Wait!" I said, sitting up too late, reaching out my hands desperately. "Don't worry about it!" I winced inwardly, realizing that she was already glancing at the cover with interest, noting the uniqueness of the volume she held in her hands.

She's going to think I'm some fucking deviant, reading "the Book of Lust"... I watched her face carefully as she stared at my choice of reading material.

"Can you read this?" she asked, her eyes impressed.

I glanced from her face to the book, where the words "Book of Lust" were written clearly across the cover in letters of etched gold. Then, as I stared, the words slowly spun together and resolved themselves as delicately inscribed, ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics.

I opened my mouth and then closed it. "Yes, actually," I said, holding out my hand. Don't open the damn thing, I silently wished. Not out here...

She placed the book in my open palm, her eyes giving me a once over. I was wearing nothing but a simple pair of red swimming trunks. Her eyes lingered on the tattoo inked into my chest, the charcoal black etching of a roaring lion.

I gave her a look myself, my eyes tracing the lush mounds of her breasts beneath the bikini, the smooth lines of her waist and leg, down to her bare feet on the cool, poolside tile.

"I didn't know anyone still read ancient Egyptian," she joked, meeting my gaze with hers. Her eyes were a pretty blue, startling and bright against the background of her darker skin. She blinked several times as they met mine, as if a speck of dust had floated into her eye, but then her expression cleared.

I smiled slightly. "Only a few of us," I bantered back. Luckily, I thought. "So, are you going to offer me a drinks menu or are you just going to inflate my ego?"

The attendant blushed suddenly, her expression turning bashful. "Sorry, sorry..." she muttered, shaking her head and clasping her hands behind her back. The stance only enhanced her figure, her tits pushed forward and straining against the white bikini top. She looked down. "If you'd like something to drink, our bartender mixes an excellent..."

I watched her mouth. The innocent parting of her lips made me want to grab a fistful of her hair, pull back her head and plant a deep, heavy kiss.

"... but we also serve local and imported beers, some soft drinks and a few local specialty beverages, for our more adventurous clientele."

As she spoke, I became aware that there was a slight pressure building behind my eyes. It was a strange feeling, like the sensation of a muscle being flexed in the midst of lifting something rather heavy. I focused on it, and the young woman trailed off.

"Are you alright?" she asked, in a slightly concerned tone.

I realized I was furrowing my brows and scowling with concentration. "Quite alright," I said, smiling brightly. As I stopped focusing so hard, the pressure lessened. "Actually," I suggested. "Since you were interested, maybe I could show you some more of this book up in my room? Grab a really expensive drink for each of us and we can meet up there in ten minutes."

I gave her a winning look, my fists clenching by my sides as the strain behind my eyes redoubled. I could tell she knew she should say no. That an invitation like this from a hotel guest was supposed to be denied.

"I'd love to see more," she murmured, her eyes twinkling with delight.

I didn't let up on my focus, the pressure building to an almost painful level.

The attendant rested a hand lightly on my shoulder and bent down beside me. Her lips brushed against my ear as her round breast pressed against my muscular shoulder. "Make sure you're ready for me..." she murmured.

Then, she turned and walked away, not glancing back.

***

"When can we go?" Marisha demanded.

My partner had given up bossing me around. She'd given up the haughty, snobbish and anti-Darius mentality that used to wind me up so tight. She hadn't given up her complaints.

She wore a flowing white robe, silky and see-through, open at the front, over a sky-blue bikini set. She paced back and forth across the sitting area of our suite with a mimosa in one hand. The other hand waved imperiously.

"We made a huge discovery, Darius! We should be shouting from the rooftops."

"I realize..." I muttered, tossing my card key down onto the small, ornate table by the front door. The clean floor of our entry was cool and smooth beneath the soles of my bare feet as I kicked off my flip flops. I shrugged my towel off my shoulder, and it fell to the floor in a careless pile.

"So why aren't we doing that, Darius?" Marisha narrowed her eyes at me, taking a sip of her mimosa.

I nodded. "A valid question. But you have more pressing matters to think about..."

Marisha started to open her mouth to ask the question, but I focused on the knot of tension between my brows. I flexed the muscle I couldn't see, and my partner's eyelids fluttered suddenly as she swayed in place.

When she blinked, her blue eyes were vacant but for a bright, burning spark that focused right on me. "I do have more pressing matters... Don't I?" she murmured, slowly bending at the waist and placing her champagne flute on the coffee table. She shed her robe as she sashayed toward me, her tits high and firm behind the blue cloth.

I relaxed my focus and felt my cock growing in my trunks at the sight of her. My engorged shaft pressed against the thin material, begging to be released.

Marisha approached until she was only a few inches from me, her breath sweet and bubbling with the champagne. Her hands lightly caressed my skin, tracing over my biceps and then down my chest. Her eyes stared into mine hungrily.

"Please, Master..." she murmured, her pink lips soft. "May I...?" Her soft touch had slipped down my stomach and crossed over the waistline of my shorts. Her fingers curved around the tent in the fabric, framing it delicately.

I took in a slow, deep breath. This is so good... I thought to myself. "You may," I acquiesced.

Marisha stood on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek softly, her breath hot on my skin as she whispered in my ear, "Thank you, Master." Her hand softly stroked at the bulge and I groaned.

"Now," I ordered.

"Yes, sir..." she breathed, demurely, before sliding down to her knees at my feet.

Looking down at the sylph kneeling before me, blonde hair shoulder length and wavy, eyes locked covetously on my straining shorts, I sighed with contentment.

She didn't look up at me as she reached out with delicate fingers and undid my shorts. They fell in a red pool around my feet and my entire length sprang free, capturing her attention. Her fingers stroked along my shaft, reverently.

Then, with a low moan, she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the head. She sucked.

"Ohfuckyeah..." I groaned. I hadn't intended to. That's fucking good...

A similar moan of contented pleasure reverberated around my rock-hard length as Marisha slowly slid her mouth down over my cock. Then, when her nose touched my stomach, she began to slowly bob her head up and down. Her eyes flickered up to lock on my face, her expression utterly content and satiated.

One hand slid between her smooth thighs and under her bikini bottom.

I felt the little spasm of pleasure that shuddered through her as her fingers began to slide in and out of her dripping pussy.

As Marisha bobbed her head, my mind went back over the reason that we couldn't, in fact, go anywhere.

I have some errands to run, the ancient Egyptian goddess had told me. I will meet you in three days in al-Qahirah. Do not keep your goddess waiting. So here I was in al-Qahirah — Cairo. It had been almost two weeks. I had spent the time reading the Book of Lust. Or, trying to read it.

I glanced once more at the little leather-bound tome. The lettering was, quite evidently, English. I tried to remember the first time I'd seen the book and recalled that it had been covered in glyphs. What the hell...? I thought, but I was hardly surprised anymore. When she finally arrived Kedesh would have some explaining to do.

Still, I guess it didn't matter what language the book was in so long as I could use it. And I had been learning. I had started by experimenting on Marisha.

I remembered my first time using the book, back in the tomb where I had stumbled unexpectedly on the sleeping goddess Kedesh. I had used the artifact to turn Marisha into a mindless slut, completely obedient and wanton. But that was only the most direct of the relic's uses.

Showing the book to a woman jolted her mind, tossing out her rational thoughts and cranking up her subservience and lust to a point where I could give her any command I wished. The effect wasn't permanent, but it was useful in a pinch. What was even more crazy was the impact of actually reading, or absorbing, the text. As I'd spent hours poring over the Book of Lust, I'd felt a strange headache begin to build behind my forehead. It wasn't a feeling of tiredness or dehydration, but more of a muscle soreness, like I felt in my body after a solid workout.

My little book allows my champion to navigate the lust of mortal women, Kedesh had told me. To control their desires, their excitement, their longing...

This was the power that had the potential to revolutionize everything in my life. My current theory, based on trial and error, was that reading the book had activated some vestigial part of my brain — a part that could reach out and tap into the thoughts and emotions of other people. Then, with enough effort, I could push those thoughts and emotions in the direction I desired.

Marisha licked lazily, pleasurably, up my cock, tracing the tip along her cheek. She smiled up at me, her expression lustful and contented. It hardly required any effort, now, to bend my partner to my will. The pool attendant, on the other hand, had been much harder.

I assumed it must have something to do with previous conditioning and the mind's natural, subconscious defenses. Marisha had simply submitted to me so many times that her mind didn't bother with resistance any longer.

"You'll never resist me, will you?" I murmured, reaching down to slip a finger through Marisha's soft hair. "Just an obedient little fucktoy, mindless except for the desire to please me..." At first, it felt wrong to say these things to a woman who had once been my friend. But her caustic treatment of me had long since turned our friendship sour. Now it was my turn to treat her exactly how I had always wanted. And it felt good to say things that were so wrong.

"Never, Master..." She looked a little surprised as she answered, her lips making a shape of concern and her eyes widening innocently. "I would never resist. I love to obey..." She trailed off and planted a kiss on my throbbing cock. "I love to take your perfect cock in my slutty little mouth..." she murmured. "I love bending over and letting you fuck every last thought out of my head..."

"Mmm..." I closed my eyes, pulling her head down and back onto my cock.

She made a muffled sound of surprise that turned into another groan of ecstasy when my length slipped into her throat.

"That's a good girl," I reassured her.

There was a knock at the door, and I flinched. Then, I realized who it must be.

"Who's there?" I called, Marisha never slowing as her lips stroked up and down my thick shaft.

"Room service!" came the teasing reply. "I have those drinks you wanted... sir." The sir was an afterthought, but spoken with a tone of deference. It was as if the speaker hadn't intended to say it, but then realized she had to.

Hmm... I thought. This should be interesting. "Come in!" I called over my shoulder. "It's unlocked." I glanced behind myself, shoving down a growl of pleasure as Marisha bobbed her head, fucking my cock with her mouth.

The pool girl walked in backwards, carrying a tray with two tall, carefully balanced cocktail glasses. Her ass looked spectacular in that flowing white skirt, the cloth contrasting beautifully with her mocha skin and cut longer on one side than the other. She turned. "Your drink, —" she started to say, and then realized in the same moment that I was three-quarters naked and there was a woman kneeling at my feet sucking my cock like it was the only thing she wanted to do with her life.

"Wha—?" she started to ask, but then her eyes met mine and she trailed off, the word tumbling to a halt off her lips.

I was actively flexing my new brain muscle, concentrating so hard that I could feel a vein pulsing in my temple. I wanted to see how far I could go, what my powers as the champion of a long-slumbering Egyptian god could really do.

"Nothing strange is happening," I said, my voice calm and steady. I could feel it resonating with power, a deep, bass, alpha thrum that I'd never experienced before. "Just keep doing what you were doing." I pushed, forcing my calm, steady energy in the direction of the stunned woman before me.

Her breathing had sped up visibly, her tits heaving against the white bikini top. "I..." she tried to speak, starting to shake her head slightly. "What...?"

I hit her with another lance of focus, visualizing a bolt of thought penetrating her forehead and melting away any resistance. Strangely, as I did, I felt Marisha moan around my cock. I was deep in her throat, my thick rod gagging her and pulsing with raw lust. Her throat rippled around my girth and I felt the urgent, pleasured convulsions of her orgasm. But I didn't have time to think about my first loveslave. I was in the process of creating a second.

The pool girl's nipples poked obviously through the fabric of her bikini top, hard and aroused despite the fact that I'd never commanded her to be. Her eyelids fluttered as her lips parted, panting breath rasping between them.

"But..." she was trembling like a leaf in a strong breeze. "She's sucking your cock..." She said it like it was a novelty, rather than a taboo. "She's..."

"Yes," I agreed, leaning against the wall casually and groaning blissfully and obviously. I channeled some of my lust and pleasure into my attack and watched her visibly stiffen then relax again, her shoulders slumping. "And there's nothing strange about it."

"Nothing strange...? No... of course not." The woman's face cleared and she shook her head, like she had been lost in thought. She gave me the same sultry look she'd given me down by the pool. "So..." she purred, suddenly seeming to remember what she was here for. She raised the tray slightly and cocked an eyebrow. "Drinks, sir...?"

I nodded. "Good," I grunted, thrusting my hips slightly in time with Marisha's movements. I was using her like my personal pleasure toy, giving her no more attention than I would a mattress or a pillow — she was simply there to be used at my convenience. "Bring one over here."

The woman nodded, her eyes traveling down my body from my eyes to the tattoo on my chest to my thick cock as it slid between Marisha's pillowy lips. Her tongue darted out unconsciously to wet her own. She took a drink in each hand and sauntered my way, a decided sway to her hips. She raised one glass to her own mouth, and then, without any prompting whatsoever, lifted the second one to mine. The glass was cool on my lips and she tilted it back, pouring a sip of the cocktail down my throat.

I sighed blissfully as I swallowed it, the liquid burning pleasantly but with a cool, sweet taste. I hit her with a jolt of pleasure, siphoning off a fraction of what I was feeling from Marisha's continued ministrations. I could sense that I was getting closer to cumming, my balls tightening and my toes curling instinctively. I wondered if I could make this new woman mine before I did.

"You're a server, aren't you?" I asked as she lowered my glass.

"Yes, sir...?" She seemed uncertain, like she hadn't expected the question.

"So, you must like to serve," I proposed.

"I...?" She was confused, her brows furrowing. "I don't know..."

"You like to serve," I pressed, staring into her eyes. "You love to serve. Serving gives you so much satisfaction and pleasure."

Her blue eyes were wide and a little unfocused as I slid into her mind. "I love to serve..."

"You love to serve me..." I murmured. I rocked my hips, deeper into Marisha's mouth. The blonde moaned softly and shuddered, getting off on being used.

The pool girl panted softly, her face slack. "I love to serve you..." she murmured. She was so close to me that she could have leaned forward and pressed her mouth to mine, and I saw her swaying forward, almost like she was drawn to me by a magnetic pull.

I hit her with a glance, my eyes dark and commanding. "Stay still."

My voice was iron hard, and she froze. "Sir...?" Her eyes were now glued to Marisha as the beautiful woman knelt at my feet and blew me like a pornstar, utterly oblivious to the interaction happening right above her.

"You're mine, now," I ordered. "Say it."

"I'm... what?" She was pulling back from the depths, struggling to find her bearings and return to some sort of normalcy. She tried to look away from my thrusting length but was too mesmerized. "I... no..."

"You're mine. My personal servant. My fucktoy. My sexdoll. My sexy little cocksucking slut." I reveled in the words as they danced from my mouth with all of my growing power behind them. As I grew closer to cumming, I could feel my strength increasing. My forehead was no longer throbbing with effort, and I felt like a rush of energy had filled my body.

"I..." Her face was red, blushing and aroused and overwhelmed. "No!" She wrenched her eyes away from Marisha, staring into my face with horror. I felt the bond I'd created between us snap invisibly and silently. "What the fuck is going on?!" She shook her head, stepping back and away. Her chest heaved and her eyes darted left and right like she was looking for an escape route.

I raised my hands and stepped back, pulling free from Marisha's bobbing mouth. My prick swung free, wet with saliva and pulsing with my need.

Marisha groaned softly in displeasure, her gaze focused on my swaying rod.

"It's all going to be okay," I assured the other woman, taking a single step forward and launching a spear of thought directly into her fractured mind.

You are a servant. You live to serve. You love to serve.

She stumbled, even though I hadn't touched her, her hand fluttering to her forehead. "What... what are you doing to me?"

I took another slow, forward stride.

You love to serve. You serve me. You serve me with your mouth. You serve me with your tits. You serve me with your pussy. It was a series of flashing images, pouring through her defenseless mind like the first jet of water through a broken dam.