Trouble From Abroad — Part II
At his Mistress’s behest, Mark drove Mistress Melina and Isabella, both sitting in the backseat, clad in their fur coats to his house. Normally, this would fly in the face of all the secrecy he had maintained over the past few months. Now, it made sense since it was what Mistress Melina wanted, and what she wanted was right.
The women in the backseat kissed and caressed each other’s fur coats, as Mark observed in the rear-view mirror.
When they arrived at his house, he parked behind his wife’s car in the driveway.
“It appears your wife’s home,” Mistress Melina said. “Mark, you will sit here and wait for Isabella to tell you to come inside. Isabella, you’re coming with me. Did you bring the coat?”
“Yes, Mistress,” she breathed, clutching a garment bag.
“Let’s go, dear slave,” she said, after a long kiss with Isabella. They went inside as Mark sat in the parked car, wondering what would happen.
What seemed like an hour later, Isabella opened Mark’s front door and stepped outside, her crystal fox fur stroller pulled closely about her, her legs and feet bare.
She gestured for him to roll down the window, which he did.
“Mistress Melina wants to see you,” she announced.
He followed her inside his home, admiring the way the fox fur bunched up around her ass as she walked. When he arrived in the living room, Mistress Melina was sitting in his cushioned reclining chair, wearing nothing but the black fox fur coat.
“Ah, here he is,” said Mistress Melina. “The man of the hour. You may speak, Mark.”
He seemed to come to his senses, to grasp fully the gravity of this moment. Two women he had sex with were in his home, and his wife was nowhere to be found. He didn’t know which scared him more, that his wife was absent, or that she was home and had discovered the awful truth.
“Where’s Dianne?” he said.
“Calm yourself,” she said. “Your wife is here. And she is safe. We had a little chat about your—shall we say—extra-curricular activities. But that’s spoiling things. Have a seat.”
He couldn’t help but obey as he sat in the nearest chair.
“Isabella, undo his pants, remove them, and fur fondle him as I explain. Mark, sit perfectly still and let her have her way.”
Isabella smiled faintly and knelt, cupping his balls in her fur sleeve, using her other hand to jerk him off.
“As I was saying, your wife heard some things and well-perhaps it’s best she tell you. Dianne!”
He heard measured footsteps from the dining room. Heels.
Dianne was wearing a full-length coyote coat, with a large collar that framed her face beautifully and matched her blonde hair well. A blissful, vacant expression on her face.
“Yes, Mistress?” Dianne said, tonelessly.
“Do you recognize this man?” Mistress Melina asked, gesturing over to him. Mark was anxious, since Isabella was still on her knees between his legs, rubbing the sleeve of her crystal fox against his balls. Though she was deeply hypnotized, Isabella still knew exactly what buttons to push.
Dianne looked at Mark, then back to Mistress Melina, eyes shining in devotion.
“Yes, Mistress,” she said. “He is my husband.”
“What did you do to her?” Mark said aloud, almost standing, but Isabella used her free hand to push him back down into the seat. She held him there by sitting on his lap, her fur-covered ass sitting on his hard cock. As much pleasure as that gave him, he craned around Isabella’s fur-covered shoulder to look at Dianne and Mistress Melina. Dianne wasn’t reacting at all to Isabella on top of Mark.
“Thank you,” Mistress Melina said. “Now, go into that special place in your mind for your Mistress, okay?”
“Yes, Goddess,” Dianne breathed, caressing the coyote fur all over her body. She was clearly naked beneath the coat, as well.
“My Mistress is my life,” Dianne whispered. “My Mistress wraps me warm and safe in Her fur, in Her control. I am a sex toy for Her. I am my Mistress’s pleasure. I love my Goddess with all my heart, my mind, and my pussy.”
Isabella sitting on Mark’s cock was causing him such pain, since the sight was arousing, even though it confused him.
“Don’t worry,” said Mistress Melina. “It isn’t permanent. At least not yet. Mark, you will be silent. You will not scream. Dianne, tell this man how you came to obey Me.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Dianne said, before turning to Mark.
“When the two women in fur rang the doorbell,” Dianne said, tonelessly. “I didn’t know who they were or what they wanted. They said they were clients that my husband sent to our home. They needed to stay the night since their flight had been cancelled.
“I didn’t know why they would come to our house instead of a hotel, but I let them in. I’ve entertained many of Mark’s clients when we’re hosting guests for dinner. They sat down, I brought them drinks, and we talked. Then, Mistress Melina began talking. And as she spoke, I found myself getting more tired, and warm, and heavy. I was worried that she would think I looked bored, so I answered ‘Yes’ to everything she suggested.
“As she kept talking, my Mistress explained things to me that I hadn’t thought of before. How sex was wonderful. That the only reason I hadn’t enjoyed it before was because it was with my husband. Because it was with a man.
“I hadn’t thought of it before, but it made sense. It made sense because she told me, and I could trust Her completely. She told me what I really should have tried was to have sex with women, but not just any sex. I should have tried to have sex in fur. The reason for that being because fur was the softest, most erotic, clothing in existence, and, as we all know, a woman in a fur coat is classy, sophisticated, and inarguably sexy.
“She was right. I couldn’t argue as she told me all these truths I was realizing. And the more I thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more I imagined it—sex with women in fur—the more aroused I was. That’s when Mistress Melina told me that if I was aroused, that meant she was right. If she was right, she knew more about me than I did, which was also true. And if she knew more about me, then she knew what was best for me, and should be in charge.
“I told her the last part didn’t make sense, but she said that’s because I didn’t understand, and before She came into my home, I didn’t understand my sexuality either. This was true. She said that if I didn’t understand, it was best to let Her think for me, to be in charge, to be my Mistress.
“Then, she told me more truths, deeper truths that I accepted and opened my mind to. I don’t remember all of them, but I know that whatever they were, She was right about those, too.”
“Very good,” said Mistress Melina. “You have done well, and do you remember the next set of instructions I gave you?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Dianne said. “After I tell my husband how you took me, then I am allowed to cum, and become Diana.”
“Precisely, my dear,” Mistress Melina said. “Cum now, slave.”
In the four years they had been married, Mark had never seen Dianne orgasm with such intensity, fervor, or passion. If she ever had, that is. This clearly surpassed any pleasure Mark could have given her. He didn’t understand what was happening, what she meant by “become Diana,” but when she stopped bucking, shaking in pleasure, he found out.
“How do you feel, Diana?” asked Mistress Melina.
“That’s much better,” Dianne, now Diana said, in a British accent, matching Mistress Melina’s. “Thank you, Mistress.”
“You’re welcome, dearest,” smiled Mistress Melina. “Do you know who these people are?”
Diana looked at Isabella and Mark, sharing the chair. She examined them thoughtfully, puzzled. She stroked the coyote coat’s collar absently.
“Should I?” she asked. “They don’t look familiar.”
“Wonderful,” said Mistress Melina. She turned to Isabella and Mark.
“Playtime, slaves,” she said, using the trigger word to bring them both back into deep trance.
Mark went under, feeling drunken, warm, and open to Mistress Melina’s words before he even had a chance to register that his wife, Dianne, was no more. That Diana existed in her stead. Was it permanent?
He could feel Isabella’s body against his, her breathing deepened, just as his had. Everyone in the room was now Mistress Melina’s clay to be molded, as she saw fit.
“I’m going to make a few changes,” said Mistress Melina. “Stand before me, Mark and Isabella.”
They did.
“You will both forget your lives before this moment. Instead, you will remember meeting four years ago on Craigslist, before your purely sexual relationship grew into a marriage—full of intensity, passion, and a shared fur fetish. If I ever call or say the words, “Playtime, slaves,” you will go back into a trance and remember only that you both worship Me.
“Feel these commands going into the deepest parts of your minds, changing your memories forever. Also, any furs that I take with Me, when I leave, will not be remembered.
“Mark, in private you are Isabella’s slave and, Isabella, you are his Mistress. You will obey her completely. You will both forget Dianne and Diana ever existed.
“Diana, you have always been My lesbian slut, and your fur fetish is only rivaled by your love for Me. You were born and raised in Britain, and now have a lifetime of memories to support this belief. You wanted to see me hypnotize an American couple, and now that we are adding to your fur collection, you are ready to return home with Me.”
“Yes, Mistress,” said Diana, gazing at her new Mistress in adoration.
The women in fur coats walked out of Mark’s house, hips rolling in sexy synchronicity with each other. Had he been aware, he would have noticed that Diana never looked back at her estranged husband. She was too focused on her new life with Mistress Melina.
Mistress Isabella was sitting in Dianne’s recliner. With a single finger beckoning him to her, Mark, too, became focused on his new Mistress. Mark got to his knees and crawled between Isabella’s fur-clad legs and began eating his wife’s pussy in earnest. As he lapped at her, he was puzzled to hear the door close.
“Honey,” he asked. “Did the wind shut the door?”
“It was your imagination,” Isabella smiled, putting her gloved hand under his chin. “Back to my pleasure, slave. And remember, it’s ‘Mistress.’”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said. “My apologies.”
“Don’t worry, slave,” she said, leaning back in the chair that used to be Dianne’s. “You have a lifetime to make it up to me.”