Himbo Maker.
By The Slaver.
2: Uninvited Guest
As I have said before my name is not impotent, you will call me Master, or Sire. All you need to know is that from now on your life is over. From now on all that matters to you, is my voice and my will. You are now nothing more, but a mindless himbo, who’s only purpose now, is to serve my cock, and that of my client. You are nothing.
The early afternoon sun, tried to shine through the cloud that covered it, I looked at the clock on the wall. There was still sometime before todays’ clients arrived. I had time to go for a jog, before they arrived and the Fuck-fest would begin. I went upstairs into the master bedroom, and then into the large walk-in wardrobe.
Quickly, I changed into my running gear; stepping out of the walk-in wardrobe I place my training mask over my face. I made my way down stairs and out of my mansion. Outside, I turned right, and jogged further up, into the hills behind my mansion. Briefly, I thought of all the guys I had turned into himbos, and then sold; that had paid for that mansion.
But now with total lock-down, I could not sell any of the himbos I made; instead I had to keep them in my mansion, and my clients came to me. But soon, I hope, the lock-down would end, and then I would get back too some sort of normal.
Not long after I had started off, around the bend in the road that led up from the bottom of the hills, to my mansion. A guy dressed in tight black compression gear, and black hat appeared.
The cloud in the sky suddenly cleared, bright sunshine light up the sky. The guy cursed under his breath. He looked about, making sure that there was no one about, he moved towards the door at the back of my mansion. With little effort, he forced open the door. Quickly, and quietly, the figure slipped inside and closed the door behind me. He moved silently though my mansion.
I was sitting on a small stump, catching my breath before returning home. When I sensed something was wrong; someone had broken into my mansion. Swearing, I pulled my mask back in place and set off as quickly as I could.
Finally, I had reached my mansion.
I approached a side door of my mansion, not wanting to disturb the intruder. I preferred to catch the would-be thief red-handed. The possibilities for creating a new himbo, and maybe some amusement while doing it were endless.
When I entered my mansion, I pulled off my training mask, and then walked into the lounge, there I found a young man carrying several of my items in his arms, planning to pinch them from my mansion. My sudden appearance startled him. He dropped a small flat-screen TV, shattering the screen.
“Son of a bitch!” The young man shouted. Then he dropped all the other items that he had in his arms and tried to bolt out of the room. I closed my eyes, and snapped my fingers, he froze in place. I wiggled my fingers, moving him about like a marionette, until he was standing in front of me, staring straight ahead.
“Your name.” I demanded, noticing how young he seemed, and the black compression gear, and black hat that he wear, shaggy dark hair stuck out from under the black hat.
“Smythe.” The young guy replied.
I nodded, thinking. Poor bastard! He had no clue, that he had chosen the wrong place to target for a burglary.
He had obviously committed this theft to pay for his lapsed gym membership. I could see, even with him still clothed, that he was pretty much out of shape for a guy in his 20s. I wiggled my finger and spun him about, and then leading him up the stair, and into the master bedroom.
“So, tell me: why burglarize my home?” I asked. “And tell me the truth, not some bullshit story.”
“I’ve lost my job because of the lockdown, and I have a Drug habit. I needed the money.” Cal shouted.
‘Shit!’ I thought to myself.
Normally, this sort of moral dilemma would not affect me. On catching the thief, I would have fucked them in the ass, for 24 hours, then ripped your mind. After which I would hand the drooling Cretan over to the local police.
After all, there is a price to pay for everything in life. But in this time of lock-down, that was not possible, not with a mansion full of mindless himbos; most of whom, had vanished from the city, nearby. Too many questions would be asked about them. Resulting in my arrest, and imprisonment. Plus a guy like this miscreant, even mind ripped would continue to commit crime to satisfy his addiction.
After a few minutes I looked at Smythe and thought, ‘Okay. I’ll first, remove your addiction to drugs. And replace it with an addiction for Cum, and Cock. That will make turning you into a mindless himbo much simpler. I’ll also tone up that body of yours.’
I was just about too do just that; when I heard the sound of cars pulling up outside my mansion. I move over too the window, and looked out. My clients where arriving for that days Fuck-fest with my himbos. I turned and looked at Smythe; he was going nowhere. Quickly, I closed my eyes, and muttered under my breath.
I opened my eyes and watch, as under his compression gear Smythe’s body changed; I had tweaked his body, giving the would-be thief, a porn-star looks and body, but not a porn-star cock, not that he would ever use his cock after today. As his body changed; so did his addiction. Gone was Smythe’s drug addiction, too be replaced by the new one for Cum, and Cock. I gave Smythe one last look, before leaving the room, to go and greet my clients.
After leaving the master bedroom, I walked into one of the many guest rooms in my mansion, I went in, and walked over to a metal cage that stood in the middle of the empty room. The occupant of the cage looked up as I draw near. It let out a loud bark, and wagged about the rubber tailed butt-plug in its whole. I smiled, as I unlocked the cage, and the occupant still barking crawled out. I panted the head of former Sheriff Tomasz, now a mindless Doggie-himbo. The former sheriff was still clad in a tight leather Jock-strap that restrain his cock, and he still wore the leather mask, as Tomasz was still in the early stages of his train. I put a collar and lead around Tomasz’s neck, and then lead him down stairs to the waiting clients.
Sometime later; the clients drove away, the himbos had started their 300 laps of my pool. I turned from the window of the guest room, and looked at Tomasz, who was now back in his cage, chewing on a cock shaped plastic Dildo. Smiling I walked out of the guest and back into the master bedroom, Smythe was still where I left him, standing ramrod straight, and blanked face. My changes to his body and addiction, now complete. I walked around Smythe and then stopped in front of him.
From outside of the window I could heard the slash of water, as my himbos swam their laps in the pool below. I stood looking at the uninvited guest before, quickly I removed my clothes, and stood naked but, for my leather Jock-strap, I could feel my cock start to throb; I smiled, ‘time to start I think.’ I thought as I gave my crouch a couple of rubes through my leather Jock-strap. I closed my and muttered under my breath.
“I know what you’re thinking.” I said, I stopped rubbing myself and took a deep breath. “You’re standing there, but you’re thinking about me. You want to stop, but you can’t. You don’t want to stop, do you? You don’t have to answer, to that question? But I know the answer. Thinking about me makes you want to stroke your cock. Stroking your cock makes you feel calm and relaxed. You like that don’t you?”
Smythe pulled off his compression top, dropped his compression pants down around his ankles, and began stroking his cock. The look on his face empty, and distant. I smiled as I agoggled Smythe’s new body; compression pants round his ankles, stroking his cock; soon he would be just another of my mindless himbos, his old life completely forgotten. All that would matter too him was serving my cock, and my client’s cocks.
“Keep stroking. You want me, you want to let yourself go, allowing my voice to affect you. My voice, my words, with all those meanings attached to them, like ‘get hard’. You want to get hard, don’t you?”
Smythe felt his cock swell with blood, as it became erect, hard and thick, the veins slowly, could be seen. But he could do nothing to stop it.
“You want my voice to take you deeper, and deeper, and deeper. You want my words to waft into your ears, affecting you, your thoughts, your will. My words are like whispers.”
“Now on your knees?”
Smythe pulled off his compression pant, and knelt on the floor, using his compression pants as padding for his knees, he faced me, I moved nearer towards the kneeling Smythe; soon my cock was practically in Smythe’s face.
“Go deeper, and deeper, and deeper, letting your thoughts fly away, your wants, your will. My words help you feel pleasant little sensations. You want to go deeper, and deeper, and deeper.”
Smythe knelt on the floor, stroking his cock, playing with his balls, staring at my monster cock.
“Let it happen. Just let go. Just listen to my voice. Just realize that you want to go deeper.” Smythe just kept nodding his head as if he was saying yes. I took the back of Smythe’s neck and placed his lips near my massive, thick cock. “Now suck my cock.” I injected my cock into Smythe’s mouth. As Smythe sucked my shaft and sucked on my balls, I felt the warmth of the late evening sun cover every pore of my body.
“Deeper, deeper, deeper.” My cock glided in and out of Smythe’s warm, wet mouth. Sucking my cock was a delight, a joy, a pleasure, for Smythe. After half an hour of Smythe’s sucking, I blew my wad down Smythe’s inviting throat. He slurped all of my sweet cum without disgust, he lapped it up, like it was nectar from the gods. Before I could pull out of his mouth Smythe get out a muffled grunt, I felt his mouth move around my cock that was still in his mouth.
Smythe’s cock exploded, he had an orgasm like he had never had had before: I closed my eyes, and muttered under my breath, and pulled my cock out of Smythe’s mouth. At once, Smythe fell onto his hands and knees. I moved round behind me, and plunged my still hard cock into Smythe’s waiting hole.
“Deeper, deeper.” Smythe moaned, my voice mesmerized Smythe as I ploughed his tight little whole with my monster cock. I closed my eyes, and muttered under my breath. Smythe scream like a wild beast as my cock exploded inside him, all I could do was pant, and gasp for air as I deposited a large load deep into his guts. Slowly, I pulled out of Smythe, seconds later, Smythe screamed again, as his cock exploded a second time, but this time he felt no pleaser. I closed my eyes muttered under my breath. Smythe fell on to the floor; into the pool of his own Cum, in a deep sleep.
Sometime later, Smythe opened his eyes, as he got up from the floor, he noticed that dry cum was covering parts of his body; and that both his whole and mouth, hurt like hell, and that there was a strange taste in his mouth. He stared at his body; it was a porn-stars body, not his own, he pulled away from his body the cotton jock-strap that covered his cock, and looked down, but that cock, that was his he seemed to remember. Smythe let go of the jock-strap, and looked around the room he was in, he seemed to be in a bedroom; he then noticed a door, that he somehow knew led to a bathroom.
As Smythe slowly walked into the bathroom, Smythe saw a me, naked, showering in the shower bath. As I was facing the shower wall, Smythe watched me as I lathered and soaped my tanned, muscular physique. At first Smythe stared in admiration, but then slowly, with envy and lust. My body seemed incredible to him. Smythe felt the veins of his cock filling, swelling, arousal overtook his mind and thoughts. He began to stroke his throbbing cock inside the cotton Jock-strap that I had placed on him, while he had been asleep.
“You’re staring at me. I know.” I said, as I continued to shower. “You want to stop, but you can’t. You don’t want to stop, do you? You don’t have to answer, for I know the answer. Staring at me, stroking your cock makes you feel calm, relaxed. You like that, don’t you?”
Smythe stood there, nodding his head yes, stroking his cock.
“As you keep staring, you realize that you want to stare, that you want to let yourself go, to allow my voice affect you. My voice, my words, with all those meanings attached to them, like ‘get hard’. You want to get hard, don’t you?”
Smythe’s cock was hardening, soon it stood erect, rock solid, pre-cum forming and dripping from his slit.
“You want my voice to take you deeper, and deeper, and deeper. You want to pay attention to everything I say, letting those words waft into your ears, letting those words affect you. My words are like whispers. Naked. Think about how you want it.”
Smythe pulled off the cotton jock-strap and then resumed stroking his cock. As he stroked his rock hard cock, his lust for the specimen of manhood showering in front of him, skyrocketed.
“I wonder if you could go a little deeper, and deeper, and deeper, your feelings are drifting away, your thoughts wafting away, your wants drifting away. You follow my voice. My words control you and help you gently drift. Listening to me makes you go deeper and deeper and deeper.
Smythe stood there writhing in passion, his cock bouncing, his balls churning, his whole tingling. Even if Smythe wanted to stop, he couldn’t. I and my voice controlled me.
“Just let go. Just listen to my voice. Just realize that you want to go deeper.”
Smythe kept nodding my head as if to say yes. I still had my back to Smythe; my buttocks were covered in soapy residue, my muscled legs, dripping in water and soap.
“Keep listening. Now come into the shower.” I finally turned around, extending his hand, and bid Cal to join me in the shower. As Smythe entered the shower, the warm water cascaded upon his physique. My soapy hand began to caress Smythe’s sculpted torso, each ripple feeling my soapy hand. Smythe let me bath him, my manly hands caressing every part of his physique. As I stood behind Smythe, I trickled my finger along his diamond hard cock, all 8″ lustfully hankering for my soapy caress. ‘What a shame.’ I thought to myself, ‘that after tonight, that he won’t be able to use that fine cock for anything sexual, ever again. Just like all of my himbos.’
“That’s it. Calm, relaxed, peaceful. You want this. You crave this.” Smythe just stood there, his cock in his hand, the soap danced over his body, his eyes closed, his thoughts peaceful, his desire erupting. Slowly, Smythe felt a piercing touch. My body coupled with Smythe’s, as I thrust his cock into his slippery tight whole.
For Smythe the feeling was exhilarating; for long minutes, he simply enjoyed the sensation. As I stroked Smythe’s cock, he drew closer, closer and further closer to eruption. Suddenly, without a further word, cum sprayed from Smythe’s cock, for seconds he cum all over the shower walls.
“Deep, calm, relaxed.” I said to Smythe. “Deep, calm, relaxed. Just enjoy the moment. Let yourself be calm and at peace.” Suddenly, I began to moan, and my thrusting subsided. Smythe felt a warm drizzle drip down his legs, spilling from his, now not so tight whole. I pulled out of Smythe; spun him round and then forced onto his knees. I closed my eyes, muttered under my breath, grabbed the back of his head and forced my cock down his throat. “Suck it clean?” I ordered, at once Smythe went to work on my cock, cleaning every drop of my cock, from it.
After Smythe had cleaned my cock, and I had pulled out of his mouth, and he had stood up; we continued to shower and lather. After the shower was completed, both me and Smythe towelled ourselves dry and returned to my bedroom, we climbed into my bed. Smythe feeling overwhelmed, yet satisfied. Sleep came quickly to him, his dreams filled with the memories of me, my voice and my touch.
Early the next day I stood in the doorway of the Gym in the basement of my mansion, watching my himbos working out. It was a Sunday, so there would be no clients, today. But still my himbos had to stay in shape. On the far side of the Gym, I could see Smythe working out on a rowing machine, sweat glistened on his naked body, and his shaggy dark hair now dyed blond stuck to his sweaty face. His cock now encased in a metal cock-cage, bounced about as he moved back, and forwards in the seat of the rowing machine.
I turned away, and made for the basement stairs, that led up to the main part of my mansion. As I climbed the stairs, I made plans for the next day, and the début of my newest himbo. There were several pairs of my client who would pay big Bucks to spend the whole night Slip-roasting Smythe. I rubbed my throbbing cock through my tight pants, as I reach the top of the stairs, and headed for my study.