“So, what’s next, Master?”
I was a little surprised that she was ready to go again so soon, then decided it was time to pull out a surprise.
“Have you ever been held helpless, and gangbanged – by strangers?”
Her eyes widened momentarily in shock, then her face settled into a grin. “Not yet! But the day is young…”
“To start, slut, we could both use a bit of a break, and I could use some more coffee. Then, we’ll see about setting up a gangbang. Now, how wet are you? Specifically, are you dripping honey?”
Sara reached down between her legs, wiped one finger lightly between her labia, and brought the finger up for my inspection. “I’d say I’m pretty well sopping, Master.” She smiled coquettishly at me, then licked the finger before sucking it into her mouth.
I grinned back at her. She had given me an interesting idea, and not for the first time. “Good. Now, I want you to kneel over your bowl, and see how much cunt honey you can produce before I’m ready to play with your body – and your mind.” I got up to go start preparing coffee and the equipment I’d need.
“May I, um, play with myself, Master?”
I nodded, “As much as you want – but with the usual proviso.”
“I’m not to cum without permission, right?”
“Right.”
She knelt down over her bowl, spread her knees, put two fingers inside her cunt, and started gently massaging her tits. Her eyes turned up in her head, and she started breathing hard.
I hoped I didn’t have to discipline her for cumming, because otherwise, this could be a fun experience…for both of us.
~~~~~
Later, when I had made all the arrangements I could think of, I gave Sara clothes – bra, panties, shorts, and a button-up safari shirt – and told her to put them on. She looked confused as I had been keeping her naked, but complied without comment. She knew by now that I have my reasons, even if she couldn’t figure out what they were.
While she was dressing, I poured her cunt honey into a small, plastic bottle with a screw-top. That would be a key prop later on.
Once she was dressed, I sat her down and explained that I was going to take her on another hypnotic journey, where she would be gangbanged – this time by total strangers. I also told her that I would be using her body quite freely myself through it all, and promised her she would be in no danger.
“Are you willing to give your body to me as my fucktoy, and let me do as I please?”
I knew that if I had asked her that at the start of the week, there would at least have been a long pause and a lot of fear and uncertainty. Now, there was no hesitation.
“Yes, Master. I want you to use me as your fucktoy. I have cum so much harder, and more often, than I ever dreamed possible, so – yes, please, use me!”
I smiled at her and caressed her cheek. “Some of it is likely to be scary and may seem rough. Are you okay with that?”
She nodded immediately, but she also swallowed hard. And I could smell her arousal quite clearly. She was ready.
“Okay, lie back, and relax…”
I placed her first into a light trance, using the post-hypnotic suggestion I had planted in her when I first hypnotized her, then gradually took her to deeper and deeper levels of trance.
When I got her to the level I wanted, I described the situation she would be in, and how she would behave. Then I told her to wake up as a very prim and proper lady from the Deep South, traveling in Central Europe…
A Castle in the Caspian Mountains
“Welcome to our humble home, Miss…?”
“Carter. Sara Carter.”
“Miss Carter. And what brings you to this isolated part of the world, may I ask?”
“I’m a tourist, and read some, um, interesting things about what you do here, so thought I would come by and see whether there’s any truth to them.”
I smiled at her and stroked my beard. “You are, perhaps, referring to our very fine singers? Or the quality of our mountain guides? Or perhaps our traditional cuisine?” I knew full well what she had heard but wanted her to say it for herself.
She shifted uncomfortably. “Well…actually…I had heard something about a, uh, love potion that seemed quite fantastical. I know such things don’t really exist, but thought…”
I interrupted. “Actually, the stories are almost true. Except it’s not a love potion, but a lust potion. One good swallow of our potion renders the imbiber, male or female, eager to engage in any and every kind of sexual act, no matter how perverted or extreme, and do things they would never in a million years consider without our potion. It’s more of an aphrodisiac rather than something to instill a loving heart on the recipient.”
She shifted uncomfortably again, and I could tell that despite her cool exterior, inside she was already wet, and feeling the heat of such suggestions. “Mister Coldon…”
“Master, please. Everyone here calls me Master. It wouldn’t do to break with tradition. Bad for discipline.”
She cleared her throat and shifted again, “Very well, Master Coldon, I’m a microbiologist and endocrinologist, and I don’t believe such an…aphrodisiac is possible. Certainly, nothing in all of my research has suggested that such a thing is even remotely conceivable. May I ask of what you compound this…lust potion?”
“Certainly you may ask, but it would be pointless. It would be like asking what basic elements constitute Beef Wellington. I could list carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, and hydrogen, but it wouldn’t mean anything to you. Besides, some of the ingredients are based on plants that only grow here in these mountains, and have, shall we say, unique properties. They would be completely unfamiliar to you. No, to understand this potion, you would need to experience it.”
I sat back and waited for the internal debate I knew she would be waging with herself. After the silence had stretched on for some time, I reached in the folds of my robes and took out a small, plastic bottle with a screw-top and placed it on the table between us.
She leaned forward. “May I?”
I nodded.
She picked up the bottle, and cautiously unscrewed the top, then sniffed the contents. “It smells sweet, and musky, and…” She sniffed again, “…and somehow both strange and familiar.” She sniffed again, more deeply this time, and I saw the potion begin its work.
“Why not try a sip?” I suggested. “Just a taste.”
“There’s nothing poisonous in this, is there?”
I shook my head. “No, my family has been preparing and using this potion for generations. Chemically, it is entirely safe.”
Her look lingered on me, then she put a finger over the mouth of the bottle, tipped it up to wet the fingertip, then set the bottle down. She lifted her finger and sniffed again, then very tentatively touched her tongue to the potion.
“Hmm… it’s viscous, sweet, but with a spicy flavor, a bit oily, strange…and, again, somehow familiar. Will you not tell me what’s in it?”
I smiled. “No, I’m afraid that’s a secret known only to members of my family – and only those deemed able to use it responsibly.”
I had time on my side, as I knew the potion was already working on her. “However, I will tell you that one of the constituent ingredients is honey. But not the kind that comes from bees.”
She looked at me, confused. “Honey…but not from bees? Then from where?”
“Pussies, my dear lady. The vaginal lubricants from specially selected women.”
She recoiled and sat back in her chair, undoubtedly repelled – yet fascinated. And I could see that she was flushed, and beginning to sweat.
“Why not take a larger sip. You will find it quite a revelation, I assure you.”
Almost like an automaton, she lifted the bottle and took a cautious sip – then failed to put the bottle back on the table. Instead, she held it in a trembling hand, as if warring with herself over whether to drink more or put it down again.
It was when she brought the bottle back to her mouth and drank deeply that I knew I had her. Once the bottle was empty, she turned it upside down and shook it. “Is there any more?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No more will be necessary,” and waited.
By now she was sweating freely. “It’s…it’s very hot in here, isn’t it?”
I just smiled.
She looked at me again, licked her lips, and said, “Would you excuse me if I, um, loosened some of my clothes? I’m feeling really warm.”
Without waiting, she started undoing the buttons of her shirt until they were all undone. Then she untucked her shirt from her shorts and started flapping her shirt open and closed, fanning herself – and exposing her lacy bra.
Suddenly, she stood up, pushed off her shirt, and unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, stepping out of them, revealing matching lacy panties. Turning to me, she blushed, then said, “Uh…may…would…you like to…kiss me?”
I shook my head. “I only kiss naked women, Miss Carter.”
She looked at me, bit her lips, then unhooked her bra and shrugged it off, and pushed her panties down, stepping out of them.
She was a fine-looking young woman, and I looked forward to using her body for my pleasure. And that of my troops, of course.
I stood up, and she quickly stepped towards me, holding out her arms. I grasped her hands, then pinned them behind her, pulling her towards me.
“Please…I don’t know what you’ve done to me…I don’t know what I’m doing, but…uh, kiss me!”
I looked down at her. “You don’t want me to just kiss you, do you, Miss Carter?”
Looking at me with a puzzled expression on her face, she slowly shook her head no.
“What do you want, Miss Carter?”
“I…I…I’m embarrassed to say it…” her voice trailed off.
I stepped away from her. “How do you expect me to give you something if you can’t tell me what you want?”
She bit her lip again, then said, “Would you…would you please, uh, make love to me?”
“Is that what you really want, Miss Carter? For me to make sweet, tender love to you?”
She looked at the floor and shook her head. As I watched, a drop of cunt honey fell to the floor and splashed. She looked at it and blushed again.
“What is it you want, then, Miss Carter?”
“I…I want…your…thing…inside me…”
“My thing. What thing would that be?”
“Your…your, um, penis…” I could barely hear her voice.
“Speak up, Miss Carter. I can’t hear you.”
“Your…your…penis,” she said more loudly.
“You want my penis. Where do you want me to put it, Miss Carter?”
“In…inside me.”
“Where inside you, Miss Carter?”
“In my…my…” she swallowed hard, “vagina.”
“You mean you want my cock in your cunt, don’t you, Miss Carter?”
Dumbly, she nodded.
“Speak up girl, and look at me when you speak to me.”
“I …want your…c-cock in my c-cunt.” She waited, shifting from one foot to the other. Another drop of honey fell on the floor. “Please,” she whispered.
I stepped towards her, grabbed a handful of her hair, and dragged her across the room. “The only way you get my cock in your cunt, Miss Carter, is by becoming my fucktoy and slut.” I shoved her to her knees, and picked up a slave collar, “And you’ll have to put this on to show me that you want to become my fucktoy, that you are my cunt, to do with as I please. Is that what you want, Miss Carter?”
Her eyes were fixed on the slave collar. I handed it to her, and she turned it over and over, then timorously opened it and placed it around her throat, as if trying it on for size. She nodded.
Taking it from her, I fastened it around her neck, locking it closed.
“Now, please…please give me your…cock!”
I pulled my robe aside, exposing my cock, then held it to her lips.
“I…I want it in my…um, cunt.”
“You’ll get it where I want to put it, slut. Now, open your mouth!”
Her eyes were locked on my cock. She licked her lips, then parted them. I grabbed her hair and pushed the head of my cock into her mouth, held it there, then pulled it out, shoved it in deeper, getting it moistened, pulled it out again, then shoved it home, deep to the back of her throat and held it there, choking her and making her gag.
