Homecoming Hypnotism Ch 02

Mark smiled, leaning back in the leather chair of the study with a pipe in his mouth. He didn't smoke one, personally, but there was something to the image of power of a man in 'his' chair with a pipe that he rather did like. It conveyed his status in the family, taking the place of his late father, and what was, truly, his rightful place as the right and just sexual head of the household too.

That was further demonstrated by the fact that his mother's lips closed around his shaft, sucking and bobbing her head obediently. Sarah sealed her lips around his cock and suckled wantonly every time she drew back to the tip, hardly allowing him to move at all for it was her job and place in the household to please him in every which way he could possibly desire, her body a vessel with which he could do as he pleased. Her blonde curls had loosened after bathing and still came with a hint of dampness, erotic in her unfinished state. As it was, she was merely a beautiful clay pot to him that required shaping, carefully so. The tattoo on her crotch, stretching up lightly onto her lower abdomen, denoted her to be his property and he groaned, rolling his head back and languishing in the exhilarating luxury of being, well, the king.

And was that not indeed a good place to be?

Maybe for him but not for his hypnotised mother, who could have been aware of what she was doing if he had allowed her to come out of her trance. But why would he do such a thing unless he was toying with the power he held over her? Mark could, after all, allow just the barest semblance of rebellion for the sole pleasure of quashing it beneath his thumb, cock sealing off any further protests as he fucked her mouth, pinning her back down to the sofa. The sofa creaked beneath them as she squealed, complaints devolving into the moans that he had lusted after for so many months and finally had for himself, murmuring her trigger just to slip her back into the state of hypnotism that made everything all the more delightful for the two of them.

Shuddering, he moaned in recollection, heat creeping through his body, desire uncontrollable in the most pleasant of ways. Just what man would have been strong enough too to resist its allure, he asked himself? He was just a man who had taken control through the incantation, her trigger phrase well and truly locked in, making his mother nothing more and everything of his submissive first of his sex harem.

But there was one other that he needed to immediately have under his control too; number one simply was not enough for him, as good as she looked in the lingerie he had her dress in to serve him, her king, and just how good her hot, wet mouth felt on his spear. There was a number two soon to come and it was just the woman who had spent so much time on the very day of his arrival striving to get hold of him while he was, suitably, otherwise engaged in far more carnally lustful matters than she may have wanted to consider for her grandson.

Hissing through his teeth, Mark twisted his fingers into Sarah's hair and held her head down as he ejaculated, pinning her there even as she hacked and gagged around his shaft, not ready for the tip to teasingly squeeze up into the back of her throat. Of course, she could have taken him if she'd been more with her senses but turning her into his personal cock-sucking servant was just another thing on his list of improvements that he would make to his mother. Yet all of that would come in due course and he raked his eyes over the paler red lingerie that he had sent her for, breasts free and lewdly on display, the 'cups' hardly doing anything at all as they cut far too low beneath the heavy spill of her tits and nipples. Just why, after all, would he have possibly have wanted to hide her best asset away? And there was so very much indeed that he could do with her glorious breasts...

That time, the phone did not ring, his grandmother already on her way to his mansion -- of course, now, as the head of the household, it was his mansion by rights -- most likely driven by one of her several personal chauffeurs. The family had most certainly landed on their feet in the world but that was hardly something he was going to complain about when he reaped the spoils day in and day out, luxuriating in pleasures that a lower class family would never have been able to enjoy.

As Sarah tenderly suckled down every last drop of cum he had to give her, golden locks falling across her flushed face as if she was shy in the moment, blushing from the subservience of being beneath him, exactly where she had always been supposed to be. Mark inhaled sharply, trembling up to her, fingers tight, although his control found its true place in far more secure ways.

It was time that Victoria learned of her new position in the family.

Mark's kingdom would be everything he dreamed it would be.

*

"Grandson..."

Her lips spread into a fixed yet warm smile, affection burning lightly through the air of strict discipline that her attire and manner of being usually gave off. Stiffly wrapping her taller grandson in her arms, Victoria allowed the hug in return, pearl earrings dangling. She wouldn't have worn such flashy jewellery in her younger days but it was something that simply seemed appropriate as the years wore on with her, the tides of time and change taking her along with them even as her ageing body seemingly refused to grow frail. Despite the years behind her, she would cling to life with the rigid vitality that she had so carried with her all the while, drawing despair to the heart of her late husband time after time again.

Yet that was all about to change. With her grey hair pulled back into a tight, prim bun that was too severe for the sharper angles of her face, flesh sinking back slowly as the years did indeed catch up with her in that manner at least, the light that should have come from such a smile did not quite reach her eyes still. Mark held her as stiffly, everything about their interaction formal and plain as if they had rehearsed it beforehand.

"How was your journey?"

"Did you enjoy the cherry blossoms on the driveway?"

"The gardens are lovely this time of year."

She did not ask about his research, his innovations and forward thinking in the field of archaeology -- what he had travelled all the way over to the country of India to study in the first place. As Victoria knew and understood nothing about that, it held no interest for her at all and she did not even bother touching on the topic. Just what was a man going to say to interest her, after all? And, to her, he had been such a boring child and no more interesting as he grew up. Why, he'd even needed her to prod and poke into his life just to get him packed up to boarding school and then sent off to college, all in the pursuit of at least something of an education. Their family name was all that, in her eyes, of course, lent him any credit to his education, although neither had Victoria ever truly thought to ask just what her grandson had achieved during the course of his studies or lifetime. It simply had never been of any interest of her and that most certainly did not change just because he was an adult.

The maid brought them tea, quietly moving in and placing all that they needed down before them on the fine china. Helga was in and out quickly, blonde hair tucked away as she said not a word, her traditional maid's garb setting her up to be prim and proper enough for the service she provided. Victoria didn't even look at her but that was not something that the German woman was going to waste any time worrying about at her age. After all, Mark had given her the rest of the day off and that meant more time with her family and loved ones.

Little did she know what Mark was going to be doing with his loved ones once she had duly left the building, a pot of perfectly brewed tea left in her wake and a cup already poured. Mark smiled in her aftermath, pressing the tips of his fingers together and nodding politely. He made the right polite noises in all the right places as Victoria talked and talked, conversation streaming over him where he had not a reason to join in. She had more than enough words in her to carry a conversation or far more than just two people and she didn't need him to interject either. Why, of course, would she desire him to speak words when she had no interest in that at all? She could fill in any supposed gaps in his manner of conversation well enough and another droplet of control in the pail that she had well and truly overfilled years ago was not going to make any difference in that regard.

And yet Mark was not a little boy anymore that could be pushed around. He was a man and a man with power under his belt, the will and knowledge to change the course of his destiny and that of those around him.

"You should drink your tea, grandmother."

Ah, now that was different. Inhaling deeply, Victoria's bosom raised as she drew herself up a little, a shrewd look in her eyes, wrinkled at the corners. In fact, most of her was wrinkled but she did not allow it to define her. It was more of an...accentuation of what had already been.

"Do not speak to your grandmother like that," she said, ice ringing through her tone, the clamour of the crack as the glacier melted. "What ideas have they put in your head over in that lord forsaken country, boy? I shall have you know that we respect our elders in our homeland."

He could have said that it was hardly their homeland when, in all honesty, they were migrants from another land to begin with. He could have made a polite noise and tipped his chin down, as he had done for so many years. It would have been easier not to argue, that was true, but something in him pressed up, a smile pulling the corners of his lips up as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the tingle of control drawing him in.

It was time.

"Pacta Sevanda."

It was instant. He latched onto her, the spider ensnaring the fly into its web, and he chuckled throatily as her head slipped forward under its own weight. Would it be different for every woman that he hypnotised, their reaction to that first, beautiful instance of submission to a greater, more dominant power? Victoria's head, of course, did not slump for long but he took a moment where her sensibilities were lost to admire how her silvery-grey dress fell over the curves of her body. It was demure and proper, of course, for a lady of her age, but he would delight in ripping it off her all the same and revealing just what her body had to offer him. He would take every last bit of it all for himself in due time.

Her lips parted, eyes unfocused, and Victoria tried to swallow, working her tongue as it suddenly seemed too thick and too heavy in her mouth to move properly, let alone speak. A hand fluttered weakly up to her hair, patting the bun as if to ensure that it was all in place, but when she looked up again there was a tall, dark, handsome figure of a man standing over her, a smirk on his lips that was just a little bit too familiar for her time-wizened mind.

Victoria moaned, panting lightly, nostrils alternating between puckering and flaring as if she couldn't get enough breath into her lungs. But neither could she have said just what was going on in the moment as the man who was, in all reality, the very essence of her late husband, his grandfather, from his younger days stood over her with the confident control of earlier times. Back then, she'd known her place beneath him and all had been well, all had been fine: it was only when his health had declined that her need for strict adherence to all forms of control had truly become manageable. And he was a man too that had died long before his time.

Mark, however, was not him and never would be, regardless of how alike they were in appearance. And the loving give and take, even with the power differential in their healthy relationship of the time, would never again be replicated between grandmother and grandson. No... The only thing that Victoria would ever again find herself duly responsible for would be serving Mark over and over again, ensuring that his pleasures were satisfied and his lusts sated, day in and day out. She didn't need to have any thoughts of her own and, well, she could not have even said that she had used her brain for all that much, truly, in the course of her life, a time of ill-advised notions and following in the path of her husband, outwardly devoted.

She'd be better for that... All for Mark. Control pulled her down into the abyss and she had no choice but to allow it to take it there. She couldn't' have fought back that level of control even if she had had the willpower in her to try, for Victoria had always been a follower trying to dress herself up as a leader. It just had taken her grandson to see where her place in her life and the world itself truly lay.

Mark smirked, lips pulling up on one side, although he no longer had any reason to hide his delight and, yes, his amusement too at her debasement. Oh, it was not quite there yet but it was coming like the question of moisture on the breeze that heralded the coming storm, something that one could almost taste if they chanced to dare and take the moment for themselves.

Yes... Victoria blinked and stared, slack-jawed and wanton, stripped of the need to speak or utter a single more word as she loosened his belt, the slow slide of leather through the loops of his trousers coming with a garb of power that made her knees quake. She was still sitting, however, and could have hidden it if she was not so far gone, but the tremble remained, her eyes wide and in awe of the stud of a man who wanted her. And what did that mean, just for her? Why, of course, it meant that she should be doing just what he wanted?

But that was no fun for Mark and he relented just a little, all for his entertainment. Maybe he had pushed too far too soon and he pulled back on the power, allowing Victoria to blink and swim back up to the surface, his trousers sliding down to the ground.

For a moment, there was stillness between them, sparrows chirping outside as they flitted between the carefully placed feeders, filled with seeds and peanuts. The tea cooled in her cup, although it had only been poured for Victoria. All for show, it was destined to remain as it was and that was alright. There were far more tasteful pleasures than tea for one to endorse and enjoy even as Victoria's mouth opened and closed in a facsimile of horror, clutching at her throat.

"No!"

Yes. Yes, he would have her and Mark pressed his advantage, only holding enough control over her so that she could shake and say no, no, that she didn't want him, that he was doing it wrong. But was that not something that he had already heard time after time again during the course of his life? Of course, he was an adult and he didn't have to listen to her, if he wanted to make a stand, but it would be far sweeter still to seal away her dictatorship and rebellion behind a biting kiss, claiming her mouth and then the rest of her divine body too.

"I have been waiting for this, grandmother." He murmured, eyes downcast, but only because he was undressing her with them. "You have no idea what you interrupted yesterday, what you sought to intervene in, all without thinking. But you are about to know. And I shall ensure that you adore every last bit of it -- and me too."

But she was just an old lady and played up the victim, trying to stand but only managing to just about wobble up to her feet, suddenly appearing frailer and weary than she actually was. In reality, she was a strong, powerful woman with an iron-grasp on life but Mark reduced her to the want to simper, barely able to hold up her own weight as she swayed and stretched out a hand for balance that still would not come.

And yet he was there, wrapping a hand around her wrist as he grinned and drew her in closer to him. It was just a single step and she pulled back from him but it was enough. One step, for the moment, as she cried out and strained for freedom, was all he needed.

"Let me help you there..."

It was not helpful and his cock swelled out through his underwear, forming a growing bulge in the navy fabric, the dark shade of blue smart as if he was still, somehow, trying to make an impression on her. He could have appeared deranged entirely to an outside observer but there was little that anyone would ever dare to say to him ever again as he wrapped up the women of his family in the wiles of command. His fingers tightened around her wrist and her struggles increased, although Victoria simply didn't seem to get anywhere. She flustered and floundered like a caged bird, tears welling traitorously up in the corners of her eyes, although she would not allow them to spill forth even in such a situation, proud and rigidly holding herself up to the very end.

He'd take great pleasure in breaking her down, tearing her spirit into shreds of humanity and then rebuilding her all over again into a number in his kingdom, the second to serve him. Sarah could show her the ropes, start teaching her more about just how he liked his cock to be sucked. But, first, there was time for his own amusement, cock drooling pre-cum and soaking a darker patch through the front of his boxer briefs, balls currently cradled by fabric but soon to be lifted up by tender fingers and lips.

Yet she fought, pushing and rebelling against his control, eyes scorning as she tried to rip herself away -- to no avail, of course. But he relished it, pressing her back to the sofa where they had been taking tea, yet that tea would go to waste. A pity, was it not?

"Mark..." She shook her head, holding up her hands the best she could, fingers heavily laden with ring upon ring. "You should know better than this!"

It was a derisive comment at best but it didn't have the effect that it used to, considering the note of fear curled through her tone, laced around her voice like a vine that could constrict and squeeze the life out of her. Perhaps her heart knew and understood then that there was no sense in fighting back, that everything that she'd ever known was lost for good, and yet she still wanted to try, to do what she'd always done before simply because that was what she did.

Yet that made no difference to him. He'd take her all the same and it would be all the more glorious for the fight she put up against him, cock pulsing and aching for the relief of her cunt or mouth -- either would do. Thrusting his face in close to hers, Mark smiled cockily, eyes harsh and cold. Maybe once there had been a deeper, more normal, love in his heart for Victoria but it was hard to see her as anything more than what she could be for him anymore. After her years of ruling with her hand, rings jangling all the while, he had well enough earned the time to take his passions to the next level with her.

"Pacta Sevanda."

He took her deeper, calling her down as he whispered for her to strip, the show playing out before him as her mind tried to rebel still, body completely under his control. Anger and fear flashed across her eyes as she fought and fought but, really, there was no sense of escape to be had as she shimmied and teased her own, wrinkled body out of her dress. His nails caught and tore, 'helping' her out of it in the way that only a man caught up by lust only could, her dress ruined for the time being. She'd buy other dresses. Ones that he liked better on her shapely form, still looking exceptionally good for her age.

Her lingerie was plain, too plain, and he waved his hand, commanding her without words to remove it too. It would be better to see her nude crotch and breasts out of that beige: yet another thing to add to her shopping list. It would not, of course, be his money that he sent either of his harem ladies out shopping with, the money coming from their savings from years of frivolity and distractions gone by until they were all but drained by, their wardrobes and collections more than enough to satisfy his twisted, kinky desires.