Request8: Erotic hypnosis -Vael
"The next contestant please," Duval hears being told over the intercom. "Kid," you're up," someone tells him while a bodyguard-looking guy gestures for him to walk forward. Around that curtain, a crowd is waiting. He shakes all through his body and breathes in deeply . Forgetting to let it out, he waddles to the guard with puffed cheeks, in which causes him to hold out his arm and shake his head in confusion. Duval lets the mass of air out to the perplexing of the dude. "You good," he asks. Duval smiles nervously and nods his head. "Right," he lowers his arm. Duval walks out to a barren stage with nothing but the chair he requested. He swallows a hefty glob of spit, fights off his nerves and slowly walks to the microphone centred on the stage. Of course, the wave of generic clapping follows but that just adds pressure.
"And you are?" A cocky judge asks almost reluctantly at the next contestant. "Duval," a limber man of vast colours replies. Primarily made of a very light red and beige, the left side of his suit has bold stripes running upward while the right side has them running horizontally. He clasps his white-gloved hands together at the top end of his pointed steel cane and keeps his legs together tucked in glossy beige trousers, with complimentary leather shoes to match. Fitted at his neck hangs a jewel-studded necklace, or rather, an amulet while a few accessories hug some fingers tightly. To top it all off is his hat - tall and white, and very cliche of a magician. It matches the beige of his shirt, and trousers, and has a faded red strip to tie the outfit together. If the first look wasn't enough, a few places in his outfit had a definition of a light blue in random small patches while holding gold studded icons in others. Stars and moons around his pocket to say the least. In everyone else's eyes, he looks absolutely ridiculous.
Casual snickering from the crowd in response to hearing his name, and the sighs of the untalented judge. "And what are you doing for us today, Duval?" he holds back his chuckles. "I'll be demonstrating a show of magic," he half-jokes to everybody's mix of laughter and cringe. He sees a few of the crowd making a mockery of his answer. Namely, a few young and beautiful women taking the front stands.
"Hypnotism," he finishes. They continue to laugh and pretend to cover their eyes. Another judge hits her buzzer immediately and yawns. Duval stands there holding his cane in his hands, one at the stem and one at the grip. A thick oval metal laying sideways at the top of the cane. "I'll need someone from the crowd," Duval steps forward with a smile. Few groups continue laughing while others grow tired, become bored, yawn, and pull out their phones. The groups that find it funny push their friends around, offering them as a sacrifice. Namely, those few young and beautiful women. And fortunately, they were sacrificing the sweetest looking peach.
Her description: She had the most beautiful glossy brown eyes. Slightly generic but such a light hint of a carbon pattern to differentiate her from the rest. Eyes not too close, not too much like Sid the Sloth. Eyes a perfect distance from her nose, and aligned not too far toward her forehead or cheeks. Her eyes made Duval's very soul shake. That is to say if he ever had one. Her dark hair with highlights of chestnut to match her bright eye fit her look as good as no other. Long but withdrawn, in a ponytail to reach the nape of her neck. The glasses that sat upon her nose, rounded and rectangular. Black rims to match the dark Nutaku merch she wore at her torso. Downward wore a black and faint yellow plaid material with wide diamonds to decorate her short skirt. Thigh highs to top it off clutching at her legs as to see an indent, tucked neatly with her feet in her black, white-trimmed Vans. A tiny star painted under her left eye as an accessory to go with the wild designs all her friends wore, an innocent expression on her flawless face, and black gloves as well. Finally, a fluffed and light rib-knit beanie sitting lazily off the back of her head, akin to a Moogle emerging from her skull. This feature stands out among the rest of her outfit and does well in bringing the elements together and likely continues to sway Duval.
"You'll do," Duval speaks aloud to a male being pushed forward. "No I won't," he yells back before rushing behind his brash buddies pushing him around. As to not make it so suspicious a choice, Duval fakes a few more decisions - only on the groups that look to be taking the piss. "And how about you," he settles on the scrumptious looking piece that'd taken his interest. Bashful and reluctant at first, her friends somehow convince her with some talk or bet. "All right, all right," she speaks with her hands in the air to gesture enough is enough. And she speaks in the most soft and soothing, yet full and driven tone. It really could pull a sailor from the sea - or a hypnotist from the stage.
"Hi," Duval finds himself at her side in an instant and offers her a hand. "Ooh~," the crowd cheers and judges laugh at her discomfort. She looks back at her friends with evil eyes and chuckles as she pushes his hand back to his side. Duval shrugs and leads her up the stairs to the spotlight. "Stellar," he whispers. "Now pay attention," Duval turns to the crowd. "Well we can't ignore it," the cocky judge calls over the microphone. Another uproar in laughter. It seems to be the only thing these brainless fucks do. Holding his awkward cane to his chest, he presses a button which pops the oval on the top off, and it drops to a tether. The sudden pop frightens his assistant for but a second. She laughs awkwardly and shows an 'Eesh' expression to the audience. "Trust me," Duval starts. "This is something you don't want to miss."
Duval winds his cane a few times, and the oval follows naturally on its tether. Just to catch the audience's attention. "Enjoy," he smiles. Purposefully, Duval drops his cane. "Oops," he fakes an incident. She laughs and looks at the audience in embarrassed giggles but they stare at her with dead eyes. In confusion, she widens her eyes and looks down to the oval, and leans down to pick it up. "Ah, thank you," Duval tells her. The audience and judges continue watching. Not in interest, not horror, just lazily as if they had no choice but no care about that. Never do their eyes avert attention, and they even seem to hold from blinking as long as possible. She swallows, easily becomes uncomfortable with the scene and stutters her words.
"W- What-," she swallows. "Why are they," she giggles nervously, "doing that." "Sorry?" Duval turns to smile at her. "Why do they look like that?" She can't help but stare back and draws her eyes over to Duval. "Why it's this," he explains as he screws the oval back to the cane. She looks downward and he brings the cane up to her eyes. In less than a second, a red light blinks a multitude of times right into her eyes. Duval steps back. The light has her totally captivated and locks her into one place. Her eyes squint and blink rapidly and stare for a moment at where it emitted. From underneath is a purple light that appears in a strip from cheek to cheek. It scans upward to her eyebrow and back. Upward and back. With each time they pass her eyes, an infinite pattern of circles within circles appears. A darker purple inside of a lighter purple, and vice versa. They fluctuate as if emitting from her pupils and she lets out a small groan as her soul is taken to another place. "Oouhuahh~."
She begins drooling out of one corner of her mouth and Duval watches it drip to her chin. He steps forward and rests his hand on the right side of her face, opposite the star under her eye. His fingers run through her hair above her ear and he clasps her face and he kisses her cheek. She stands with limp arms, hunching forward with spirals in her eyes, allowing for him to make with her what he wants. Duval pulls back and strokes the stone-shaped mass atop his can. She begins feeling her bare-top breasts through her clothes while running a hand up her thigh to her private place. She rubs her nipples while rubbing underneath her skirt, leaning forward still. She begins gritting her teeth and wincing as she makes herself feel good. Duval presses down on his cane which has her drop to her knees. She leans back to please herself as he watches with a grin. Unable to help himself, he spits down at her face before whipping out his dick to piss. Without a full bladder, it's only a mare sprinkle from the ground ahead of him, up her skirt and shirt and a quick splash on her neck. "Auugh, oh fuck," Duval groans deeply at the sign of his degradation to an innocent young woman.
After a moment too long, he walks behind her and places his hand on her head with his legs at her back. Duval pulls off her beanie and tosses it to the ground. He pulls her hair tie and does the same. He grabs a bundle of her hair and pulls on it gently before coming too harsh. Duval almost lifts her off the ground with the strength of his pull until he shoves her skull forward and pushes her to the ground. With her ass up and arms stretched in front of her, cheek impacting the ground and lightly bruised. Duval joins her on the floor and flips her skirt up to reveal her underwear, her hand still present to tickle her clit. He pulls the string of her panties back and holds it with his thumb pressed to her thigh to reveal a sopping pussy. Usually, this hypno-business juices them up a bit. Duval lowers his mouth between her legs and feels his tongue mirror her wetness. Opening his mouth, a string of saliva leaks accidentally, lead by a dollop of spit. Duval runs his tongue along the length of her pussy from the bottom to top, and can't help but flick by a few more times. She moans softly, causing Duval to undo his belt and get ready to play. Often he would lead up to it but this bitch is special.
He goes to pull his trousers down but they're challenged by the throb in his cock. Ever-growing since he saw her, it's reached full mast. He struggles a while but pulls them upward so he can shift his dick into a more streamlined position. He then inches his trousers down the length of his meat for seconds. Once setting his beast free, the rod of nine inches throbs in a bounce and falls to rub against her flawless as. Puffy where it should be, slim where it should be. She was absolutely cute, and he couldn't wait to ruin her. Duval presses the rim of his trousers to the ground to free his legs, and hastily pulls himself to her backside and drops atop her. Both their bodies lay flat in layers and he grabs her sides as he guides his cock to her lips. He teases her for a second before jutting the head in. "How tight are you?" Duval giggles. "A virgin?" His meat pulsates at the thought, twitching only just inside her. "Good," he whispers in her ear as he enters.
He can feel her body twitch, showing her restraint, reluctance, how she doesn't want it. No. She does. Duval likes a struggle but he's feeling lazy today. He shoves his cock in dry which is only barely helped by her juice. She keeps twitching and the best she can do to call for help is drool to the floor. He rapes her as it pools up. He bites her ear, pulls her hair, claws at her shirt and rips what he can. It doesn't even feel good, Duval just likes knowing he can do it. He pulls out, stands, and kicks his trousers off. "Get ready for me," he jokes. He orders staff from behind the curtains to bring him over a chair. A sound from behind. Duval turns to find her stripping herself. Her sight remains limp and the spirals continue, so she hadn't broken the spell. She keeps stripping of her own accord. Or, at least, what her body thought to do upon hearing that. "Well," he shrugs. "Let's see it then."
He watches as she unbuttons the last of her shirt and peels it away to reveal a full and decorated bra. Her beastly tits weigh down her front as she falls to her hands with her biceps pressed to her boobs. She unzips her skirt and wiggles it down her legs before crawling forward to him at his seat. She nears him and he raises his leg to rest his shoe on her left eye. He stares into the spirals from her right eye and smiles. "Show the people what you're made of." She reaches back with her right hand and reaches underneath with her left, relying on my foot to keep her weight. She pulls her underwear to the side while providing a show for the crowd."You having a good time?" Duval yells to the crowd. They keep their blank expressions while clapping, cheering, whistling. I kick my foot up and let her drop to the ground. "Up," he orders.
She pops up with a smile to trick the devil and places herself between my legs. She rises on her knees and pulls away the ties of her bra, allowing it to drop. "Mmm," Duval sends the others away back behind the curtain and readies for a sucking. "You silly bitch," he laughs. "Come and choke on me." She licks from his balls to his tip, taking in the taste of herself. She begins to breathe heavily with her tongue hanging loose. "I'm your silly bitch, Duval. Allow me to please you." She takes the tip of his penis in and sucks soflty in over the ridge of his head and back to the tip to kiss. "Ooh," he moans to a giggle. "If you're lucky." She repeats her movements a few times over before spitting bubbles and taking what she can of his length. He grips at her hair and pulls her back as she goes to take him in."You're gonna be a good whore for me?" She whines soflty with her tongue stretching to him. "Yes, Duval, I'll be your good whore." "Call me daddy, sweetpea," he orders her. "Or something of the like." "Yes, daddy." She winces as he slaps his cock to her cheek. "Good baby," he rolls it against her tongue and sets her free to continue. "Go on."
"Kiss it, ouuh~. Suck it~, mmfh," Duval moans as she gives him top, making a mess of herself and having a mass of spit droop from her chin. Her makeup was ruined from Duval often rubbing the spit into her cheeks, forehead and over her eyes. "Fuck, you dumb bitch. Fucking whoremeat slut," he dirty-talks her all the while. "I'm your slut," she moans. "I'm a stupid whore for you." "Shut the fuck up, bitch," Duval's tone drops in seriousness and he slaps her. "You speak when spoken to." She doesn't make a sign of understanding. "You hear me, bitch," he raises his voice. "Yes, daddy," she speaks softly. "Fuck up, whore," he smacks her again. Duval slaps her a number of times more until she whimpers. "Understand me, slut?" She nods. "Good meat." Duval pulls her mouth back to his cock and pushes her head down as hard as he can, forcing it down her throat until it comes to a stop. "An inch left, bitch," he wails on the back of her head until she takes it. "Auhhhh, fuck~. Fuck!" Duval moans as he pulls her pack to stare at her face. Strings of spit hang from all over his cock to her lips. He breathes heavily as his face twitches in a mix of hatred and lust. He spits at her eye to which she closes it in the knick of time, and strings hang from her brow to the star at her cheek. "Very good meat," he shoves her back down and drops his hands to the sides of his seat.
Duval continues fucking her face relentlessly, barely allowing her time to breathe and stands to make her take it. He steps forward so she has no support to her position and holds her up by the head while he rails her throat. "Fuck-ing-good-bitch," he hammers at the back of her head to reach her mouth to his balls. He pulls out and drops her, causing her to fall on her back with arms spread. "Touch yourself. Do something good," he orders as he walks away for a sip of water. After taking the whole bottle down, Duval returns to take his prize. "Let's end this." Duval pulls her up by her legs and rests her thighs on his shoulders while she hangs helplessly upside-down. He begins slopping and sliming, spitting on her pussy, munching her muff, eating her cunt methodically. At times viciously. Having his way with both her body and his. She sucks, throats, kisses and slobs over his cock just as passionately as he, if not more so. It sure feels like she's a choice with how she treats him. But that she doesn't tickles something sadistic in Duval. It's good.
"Down, bitch," he drops her on her head and she falls to her chest. "Up, you slut," he strokes himself quickly while he flips her on her back and pulls her by her neck. She sticks out her tongue while she's pulled up onto her ass, longing for cum. "Fucking slutfuck, whoremeat, muffstuffer, bitchtits," Duval insults her as he bends his knees to crouch near her face, stroking with a speed to rival Quicksilver. "Skank, slag, fuck you," he spits on her forehead again. "Tell me you want it, skank," he slaps her face twice more. "Yes, daddy, I want it," she whimpers. "What, bitch?" Duval slaps her thrice again. "Give me your cum, baby. I want your milk. Your white honey. Your cream. Your babies. Give them to me," she begins feeling herself and pleasing her cunt. Duval feels an explosion in his sack, a collision between his balls, a hot magma burst its way through his length.
He shoves his meat down her throat with not a second to spare and pulsates her neck for a few seconds. She's absolutely drowning with how much he put in, and suffocating until he pulls out. Duval draws his dick from her mouth to see it spilling out and down her chin, coughing and sputtering and choking. He shoves her head so she loses balance and drops to the floor again. "I didn't tell you to do that," he catches his breath. "I'm done with you." She whimpers while he turns to walk back to his chair. He rushes to get another water and trudges back to his seat. "Go kiss that bitch, whore," he orders her up. "Crawl!" Duval shouts at her and sips from another bottle. She drops to her bruised knees and crawls down the stage over to the judges' table.
She kisses the judge who buzzed him out. She kisses her deeply, allowing for a mess of cum and spit to cover her face. "You strip too, bitch," he orders the judge. She does as told. "Make do with that other cunt." They both make a mess of the other judge, the one who acted so cocky. "Good," Duval sighs as he gets up and dresses himself. He looks back to the audience and leaves to whence he came. After a good few moments of the three lusting at each other, the spell drops.
-Dragon