Hi Everyone!
Spotlight today on a wonderful series of mine from waaaaaay back that you may have missed! As the title suggests, this one is all about a down-on-his-luck hypnotist who happens to come into a magic watch that lets him hypnotize the gorgeous women in his life for real, and details all the hot sexy sordid revenge he could ever want! Buy it here.
Blurb:
“We’ll serve, Sir. We’ll ALL serve you…”
Down-on-his-luck stage magician Warren can’t catch a break. His beautiful assistants betray him, the sexy woman he’s known all his life exiles him from her house, loan sharks want to break his legs, and his utterly gorgeous, arrogant wife leaves him. Then he finds a magic watch…and everything changes. The watch can make any woman—no matter how gorgeous or fertile—do whatever he says. As Warren embarks on his twisted path of erotic revenge, the power he feels fuels his throbbing manhood and guides his every action. Before he’s done, every beauty that crossed him will kneel before him, beg to feel him inside her, and plea to carry his heirs just like the good servants he’s transformed them into.
The First 1000ish Words:
Gorgeous women. Three of them. All kneeling in front of Warren, chanting his name in admiration. In worship.
They wanted him. By god, they all wanted him.
His body, tall and layered with dense muscle, felt electric. It wasn’t just lust. Of course there was that, as he was going to fuck each and every one of these beauties until they were overflowing with his unprotected seed. But it was more than that—it was power. Pride. Fulfillment. He deserved this. He had earned their adoration.
Their beautiful bodies were encased in tiny lace lingerie. Supple, hot breasts showcased just for his enjoyment. No one else. No one else had earned this—it was just for him. Their eyes were frantic with lust, watching him slowly take off his pants.
At the moment of the big reveal, the moment they saw his cock, each of them gasped in awe. They had seen it before, of course. But it still amazed them. The size. The thickness, the length, the way it hardened so quickly.
And they thought all of this—they knew all of this to be absolutely true—because he had made them think it. All three of these perfectly gorgeous creatures were absolutely and totally under Warren’s control. He had reshaped their thoughts, reformed their minds, and re-wrapped their every atom until they were living, breathing totems of devotion to his Will. Their pussies would only ever cum for him for the rest of their days.
His cock rose proudly, veins throbbing. Precum slid out, glistening over the head. Each loveslave before him moaned, licking her lips, hoping to be the honored vessel who took the first taste of the day of his cum.
Warren was born to be a showman. He’d known it since he was very young.
He was going to give these girls a show they’d never forget.
* * * * *
Just thirty-six hours before that messy, depraved scene, Warren arrived at his small workshop early in the morning on Monday. The weather outside was cool, and he wore a light jacket over his sweater, hoping it would be enough to keep him warm all through the day. A cold front was expected toward the afternoon, but he had forgotten all about it until he had driven halfway to work.
His focus layered on the incumbent cold to take his mind off the mess of his professional life. He had a show this Saturday, and he was resting all his future on it.
One big success. That’s all it will take. Just one good house and I can pay down the loan in good faith.
Loans. Pay down the loans.
God, but wasn’t that depressing. His life’s goal—the one thing that would relieve all the stress he felt right now—would to be able to begin to pay down his loans. Not to pay them down completely. Not to be rich, or have a nice house, or to run shows in Vegas and Los Angeles and New York—no, none of that.
Just one big show to pay down the massiveness that was his debt.
His workshop was a small place located at the corner of an industrial district deep in the inner-workings of Alder City. It was not an ideal place for a magician’s workshop, as the placement made commutes long and the trips he needed to make—trips for supplies to rehearse with or use in shows, or lunches with suppliers to lower prices down the line, or drinks with theater owners to maybe get a few points on the house take—were always made longer. And longer trips meant more time away from rehearsal and his ever-more-disagreeable assistants, Belle and Katie.
But, the rent was cheap. The rent was affordable. Or it would be, if Warren had anything closely resembling a living wage from his life’s work as a stage hypnotist and magician.
All around the workshop, then, were factories and distribution warehouses. He regularly had to swerve out of the way of truck drivers as he arrived. The workshop was squat and gray, several cloudy windows dotting the parameter of its surface.
Directly inside was a small office where nothing ever got done, no matter how he badgered Belle and Katie to work on inventory and dates for shows. At the rear of the first office were two doors. One led to his own office, where he lamented over his deplorable finances. The other led to the workshop area proper, where he and his assistants rehearsed shows in front of an audience of broken assembly-line machines that Warren couldn’t afford to have taken away.
Surprisingly, Katie and Belle sat in the front office, waiting on him. Usually, they were late.
Belle was a positively gorgeous young woman. Her thick dark hair was tied up in a loose ponytail that slipped down one side of her face. Her hair was dense and soft and shiny, made for gripping during desperate gasps for life in the deepest, hottest, most brutal ruts that a man could imagine. Her face, all cheekbones and bright blue eyes, dripped complete haughty distaste in a fashion that only the most beautiful of women can do. Her body was tight, toned by hours and hours of kickboxing and pilates (which of course, she dragged Katie to—she had a horrible fear of being alone), and her bust had been “enhanced” some years before when she thought it would help her acting career.
It didn’t, but it certainly caught Warren’s attention. She possessed a whopping pair of 36E tits, enough to catch most men’s interest. He’d desperately tried to fuck her before settling with just having her work for him, and occasionally—shamelessly—hitting on her every day. Over the past five or six months, he’d stopped hitting on her, if only because his lack of good pay had fast eroded any good will Belle once felt for him. Katie was sort of the opposite of Belle. Friendly, down-to-earth. She looked like a surfer girl, with long dirty blond hair that shimmered as she moved in the early part of the day, but would tangle into thick knots and rope-like braids as the hours of rehearsal stretched on…
