Jon And Kaa

Jon and Kaa

Kaa moved through the shadows of the park, his eyes scanning the passersby, alert for any prey that caught his interest. It was then that two young boys passed by talking animatedly, one of them was Jon, a carefree-looking guy, impeccable white shirt, muscular and with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance.

“Did you see that? Now they say that a snake is hypnotizing people, leaving them looking like fools,” his friend commented, in a worried tone.

Jon burst out laughing, shaking his head.

“Yeah, right... as if it were real. It's probably another hoax to scare people and make it go viral. If I were to meet that snake, one good smack and the matter would be resolved.”

Kaa, watching from a distance, frowned upon hearing those words. Not only did they doubt his power, but the boy dared to mock him. And worse, there was something about that smug air that made Kaa want to teach him a lesson. With a crooked grin, the snake began to follow him around, waiting for the perfect moment.

Later, when Jon arrived home ready to relax, Kaa made his silent entrance. Slithering stealthily, enveloping the air with his presence. Jon, noticing something odd, suddenly turned around, coming face to face with the snake.

“My, my... what do we have here?” Kaa slid his body smoothly until he was around Jon, keeping a calculated distance. “The boy who can handle sssnakesss, huh?”

Jon, surprised, frowned, and immediately remembered what his friend had told him.

“What the fuck!” Jon said, incredulous at the sight of the talking snake.

Kaa smiled widely, bringing his face closer to Jon's. The boy, although he maintained a cocky attitude, began to feel a slight discomfort due to the proximity of the snake.

"You may not have time to give me that “sssmack” you boasssted about ssso much..." Kaa whispered mockingly.

"Pff!" Jon snorted, although his tone already showed some insecurity. "I'm not afraid of you…"

Kaa smiled with amusement. He knew that the boy was nothing more than a facade of confidence. And now, that excess of confidence would make him fall faster. His eyes began to slowly turn, enveloping Jon in those hypnotic colors.

"It'sss not good to lie... Jooon... look at me... clossser..."

Jon tried to resist at first, shaking his head awkwardly. But his mind, although physically strong, was not prepared to deal with something as seductive and penetrating as Kaa's eyes. Little by little, his resistance faded. He began to blink, his breathing became slower and deeper.

"Uhhh...?" Jon stammered, falling more and more into the hypnotic power of the snake.

Kaa smiled with amusement. satisfaction as Jon's gaze drifted away. Finally he was completely lost in trance, standing, eyes reflecting Kaa's spirals and mouth half open.

"That'sss right... the ssstrong and... well-dresssed boy..." Kaa whispered as he began to unbutton his shirt with the tip of his tail. "... hiding sssomething very interesssting here..."

With each button he opened, he revealed the tattoo on Jon's chest, a muscular and marked chest now exposed to the air, while Kaa moved the fabric aside with his tail, lightly caressing the skin beneath it.

"My, my... ssso ssstrong and with a niccce tattoo..." Kaa purred.

Kaa, enjoying total control, began to slide his tail down Jon's exposed chest, caressing his skin as he unbuttoned the rest of the buttons on his shirt with deliberate slowness, leaving it wide open and revealing more of his muscular torso.

"I think... you're ready to play sssome more..." Kaa said in a soft but malicious voice, as he used the tip of his tail to unbutton Jon's pants and let them fall, revealing a pair of boxers that barely hid a long bulge in his crotch. Kaa didn't miss that detail and, with his tail, removed the boxers. Jon's large, erect penis caused a pleasant surprise in the snake.

"My, my... I sssee that it excccites you to be under my power..."

The young man could do nothing, trapped in his own body, while Kaa surrounded him with his serpentine body, enjoying his prey. The snake let its scales brush Jon's skin, delighting in its absolute control.

"We're going to have a lot of fun... my dear Jon," Kaa whispered, playing with him while the boy remained motionless, completely subjected to the snake's power.

Hypnotizing the host

After weeks of being confined to his palace, Delerion decided he needed a break from his usual domain. Although he loved his harem, he missed interacting with people other than hypnotized slaves a little. But that, over time, became predictable, monotonous. He needed something different: people who were not under his influence… at least not yet. He knew that Jamal, one of his most faithful slaves, had a rather hectic social life when he was not in the palace. So, taking advantage of the fact that Jamal had been invited to the inauguration of his friend Marco's new house, Delerion decided it was the perfect opportunity to get out of his routine and mix with the real world again. Jamal, always obedient, took him as his companion. Delerion carefully chose his outfit for the occasion, obviously he was not going to go as a sorcerer. He opted for something more "earthly", although in his style: a tight black leather jacket that gave a casual but dominant image. That night he would introduce himself to Jamal's friends under the fake name Dean. Upon arriving, Delerion could see the curious glances from the other guests. Jamal was known for surrounding himself with more "posh" and formal people, so his appearance stood out among the expensive suits and well-polished looks of the other guests. However, Delerion didn't mind drawing a little attention to himself, in fact he enjoyed the subtle discomfort it caused. But what really captured his interest was Marco. Jamal's friend, host for the evening and owner of the new house, was exactly the kind of man Delerion was drawn to: handsome, muscular, robust, with a tight blue shirt that highlighted his shoulders and chest in an almost perfect way. As the evening progressed, Delerion realized that, despite his attempts to avoid it, he couldn't help but feel a growing attraction towards Marco. The conversations were fluid and lively, and to his surprise, Marco turned out to be a very nice guy. The night progressed, and after several glasses of wine and much laughter in the living room, Delerion and Marco ended up in the kitchen, away from the rest. The conversation was still friendly, but Delerion felt that the attraction between them was beginning to create a palpable tension, although he knew very well that Marco was straight, according to what he had heard in the previous conversations. Marco poured two more glasses of wine and turned to Delerion, who was watching him with a smile that seemed to hide something else. “Where did you get that shirt?” Delerion said, his eyes scanning the blue shirt Marco was wearing. “It looks great on you.” Marco let out a small laugh, a little uncomfortable but flattered. “Thanks. To be honest, I didn’t know what to wear. Jamal suggested this to me… He has good taste, doesn’t he?” Delerion raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, yes, he has excellent taste.” —Delerion smiled mischievously, knowing full well that Jamal's "good taste" had been shaped by his own magic. —Did you know that I taught him that "talent"? Marco laughed, not understanding the reference. "Really? I didn't know you were a stylist too." Delerion looked at him with a dark smile, moving a little closer. "Not exactly. I have other… more special talents." With a quick movement, a sphere of green light began to form between Delerion's fingers, floating in the air. Marco frowned, looking at it curiously. "Huh? What kind of wine did I pour?" he asked, incredulous. Delerion leaned closer, his eyes locked on Marco's.

"Oh, this is not the wine…" The sphere of green light floated right in front of Marco's eyes, gently pulsing with a hypnotic rhythm that trapped him. Marco tried to look away, but couldn't. He was too mesmerized by the light. “It’s… fascinating…” he murmured, not realizing his will was slipping away. Delerion smiled, knowing he already had him. “Don’t worry, Marco… Just relax and watch it. Let your mind calm down… don’t think…” Marco tried to respond, but his words faded into a murmur, as his body began to give in to Delerion’s control. “Dean…” he whispered with soft acceptance. Delerion leaned even closer, whispering in Marco’s ear. “Don’t worry, Marco. You just have to obey.” The word “obey” hung in the air, and with that, Marco surrendered entirely, his gaze empty, his body relaxed, completely submissive to Delerion’s will. “Yes… obey…” Marco replied, his voice emotionless. Delerion slid a hand down Marco's firm chest, enjoying the feel of his new conquest. "Now, you are mine. Your will belongs to me." "I am... yours... master," Marco replied, totally submissive. Delerion smiled, enjoying his unexpected conquest. Satisfied, he led Marco back to the living room, certain that no one but him knew what had really just happened in that kitchen.

ai generated video

Trent's bretrayed and hypnotized

Emir had successfully completed the mission Delerion had entrusted to him. Now, his best friend Trent stood before him, bound and gagged, struggling uselessly against the ropes that imprisoned him. His eyes, filled with fury and terror, kept shooting him glances that burned him from the depths of his soul. Emir knew he had betrayed him, but Delerion's will was absolute, unbreakable.

"My lord," Emir said, bowing before Delerion, who entered the dungeon with his elegant gait, his staff shining in his hand, "I have brought my friend as you ordered."

Delerion smiled, his expression full of mockery and cruelty. He approached the prisoner, his steps echoing on the cold stones of the floor, and with a simple gesture, he released the gag from Trent's mouth. Feeling the freedom on his lips, he was quick to spit out his frustration.

"If this is a joke, it's not fucking funny, Emir!" he shouted, his voice vibrating with fury and bewilderment.

Delerion laughed softly, an icy laugh that filled the air with an almost palpable tension. "A joke? Oh, Trent, you don't seem to understand. Emir didn't betray you... he simply found his place. He knows who his true master is."

Trent tried to struggle once more, but the ropes were too strong. "What have you done to make Emir behave like this? Son of a bitch!"

Delerion cut him off with a simple gesture of his hand. "Emir, dear, gag your friend again. He can't seem to control his tongue."

Without a word, Emir complied, placing the gag back over Trent's mouth, who tried to resist, but to no avail. His eyes filled with a mixture of hatred and despair, looking at his former friend, now turned into an obedient slave.

Delerion walked toward the exit as if to leave the room, and Emir followed closely behind, submissive. "Wait a moment, Emir," the sorcerer said, stopping. "Don't go yet. Watch as I subdue your friend."

Delerion raised his staff and, with a soft whisper, conjured the hypnotic green light. The floating orb began to glow in front of Trent, pulsing with seductive energy. Trent frowned, trying to look away, but to no avail. The light had him trapped.

"What is this?" Trent thought, his breathing quickening. He didn't understand what he was seeing, but the strange sensation that was beginning to envelop his mind confused him. He tried to struggle, but his thoughts were beginning to cloud.

From a distance, Delerion and Emir watched, the former with a triumphant smile and the latter with an obedient stillness, totally under the sorcerer's control.

Trent slowly stopped struggling. His shoulders relaxed and his eyes focused on the green light floating in front of him. His breathing, once labored, became slow and deep. There was no fury anymore, only the urge to obey.

From the dungeon stairs, Delerion watched as Trent, with his back to the exit, no longer struggled or moved. The hypnotic light had disappeared, the spell having worked once more. Delerion stepped closer, releasing the ropes and gag with a wave of his hand. “Now, Trent,” the sorcerer whispered with a smile, “tell me, who do you obey?”

Trent, his gaze vacant, slowly rose, now a completely transformed man, and answered in a submissive, almost mechanical voice, “I obey you… master.”

Delerion reveled in his new conquest, gently caressing Trent’s cheek as Emir watched in silence. Both men,

under his complete control, were ready to follow him to his bedchamber.

"Come, my beautiful slaves," Delerion ordered, his smile victorious as he climbed the dungeon stairs and the two men followed him, obedient, heading towards a destiny marked by lust and total submission.

King Delerion enjoying Miguel's obedience

Detective Miguel Sánchez had been investigating the disappearances of men in different parts of the country for weeks, all related by a disturbing pattern. Among them, his friend Daniel had been the last to disappear, and from that moment on, the search became personal. Miguel knew that something dark was hiding behind these cases, something that did not conform to the laws of logic or science. He was the only mortal who had discovered the existence of the mysterious sorcerer Delerion, an enigmatic being whom he ended up facing several times, but without success.

Now, in the sorcerer's palace, Miguel was in front of Delerion, but something had changed. He no longer wore his usual clothes. Instead, he wore a tight red shirt, similar to those of Delerion's other servants, which highlighted his muscles like a trophy displayed by the sorcerer. The detective remained standing stiff, his gaze fixed and empty, as if his will had been completely broken. Delerion, in front of him, looked at him with an arrogant smile, his scepter emitting a faint green glow, proof of the spell that had brought him here.

“I have always been fascinated by your determination, Miguel,” Delerion said mockingly, walking slowly around him, delighting in the image of the detective finally under his control. “I warned you not to meddle in matters you cannot understand… but your stubbornness is admirable.”

The sorcerer stopped in front of him, leaning in to catch any spark of resistance that might remain in the detective’s eyes, but he found none. Miguel was trapped, his mind, once sharp and cunning, now shrouded in a haze of obedience.

“And what happened to all that pride as a vigilante, eh?” Delerion continued, laughing softly. “You thought you could stop me, save your dear friend Daniel… But now, look at you. Dressed just like all my servants, one more in my collection.”

Miguel said nothing. His proud eloquence had been completely erased from his mind and transformed into submission.

“Oh, but don’t worry,” Delerion added, a cruel glint in his eyes. “Daniel is here too, as you might have guessed. Very close, in fact. In fact, I can assure you that you will play together. Because… in case you hadn’t realized yet, you are now at my command.”

“Yes, master. I am at your command,” Miguel replied, completely hypnotized.

The sorcerer’s smile widened as he saw how someone who had shown more will than the others had fallen under his power. It was clear that the spell was too strong.

“All this will seem normal to you very soon. You and Daniel will be part of something much bigger than yourselves. You always wanted to save people, didn’t you?” Delerion laughed, taking a few steps back. “Well, now you will be a good slave… for me.”

“As you command, master.” The detective answered again, with a serious and neutral tone of voice that showed that the trance he was in was really deep.

Delerion's laughter echoed through the room as Miguel, his body tense beneath his red shirt, stood motionless, the shadow of his will consumed by the magic that bound him. The detective who had once sworn to stop the warlock now became a piece in Delerion's game.

King Delerion giving orders to Jamal

Deep within Delerion's palace, the air was filled with a mystical green that filtered through the Gothic windows. The high walls were adorned with arcane symbols and glowed faintly with the reflection of the magical lights that floated about the room. Delerion stood tall, wrapped in his dark velvet cloak with purple edges that rippled as if alive. In his right hand, he held a staff adorned with a spherical green jewel, from which emanated unmatched power. In front of him stood Jamal, the imposing, newly hypnotized servant who remained motionless, his muscles tense, but his eyes empty and obedient.

The servant, a burly man with dark skin and enormous strength, had been subdued by the sorcerer's power only a few hours ago. He no longer had a will of his own; his mind was completely subject to Delerion's whims. Despite his intimidating appearance, he was reduced to a puppet, unable to think for himself, only awaiting the commands of his new master.

Delerion watched him with satisfaction. He approached, his leather boots clicking softly on the marble floor. He raised his staff, letting the green light reflect off his slave’s expressionless face. He had perfected the art of magical domination, and each servant under his command was living proof of his mastery.

“You have proven yourself a more than suitable subject,” Delerion said, his voice silky and condescending. “Your manhood and muscles are ideal for the games I have in mind for you and the other servants. But…” his smile widened dangerously, “your unwavering loyalty is what satisfies me most.”

The servant, whose muscles tensed with each word from his master, remained attentive to his master’s words.

“I am at your service, my lord,” he said in a deep, but emotionless voice.

Delerion walked in circles around him, like a predator stalking its prey.

“I will soon need you to carry out a task that your companions are doing very well,” the sorcerer whispered. “You are to help me recruit attractive, manly men. Friends, family, whatever, but bring them to me.”

The servant did not blink. He did not question. He simply waited for the next instructions, like an automaton waiting to be activated.

“I will do as you command, master,” he replied.

Delerion smiled, satisfied with the absolute submission of his new acquisition.

“Perfect,” he said as he raised his staff and placed it in front of his servant’s chest. “Now, remember well, if anyone stands in your way, you will not hesitate. Nothing can be an obstacle.” For you, my dear servant, are the extension of my will.

The green light of the staff glowed brighter, as if reaffirming the magical connection between master and slave. Delerion knew that with his army of servants under his control, his dominion would be absolute. And this man, with his strength and blind obedience, was but a piece on his vast chessboard of power.

The sorcerer let out a soft, dark laugh as he retreated to his throne, leaving the servant to await his next command. In this palace shrouded in shadows and magic, everything seemed to conspire to extend Delerion's control over men.