By seduction, of course

The first obstacle in your plan is a tall, magnetically locked gate barring your access to the mansion's estate. Before this might have been problematic, however now you just nod to Black Swan, who smiles back at you, then turns to the iron barricade. Closing her eyes and pursing her lips, the telekinetic girl slowly forces open the gate, and you drive straight through to the house.

As you raise a fist to knock on the door, you are startled as it flies open before you - and at the sight it reveals. A gorgeous woman in her mid-thirties, with luscious golden locks tumbling over her shoulders, stands in the doorway.

"Leave. Now." Despite her anger, you are captivated by her silky smooth voice, and her strong French accent. "I have called the police, and they will be here before you can take anything."

"Ah, you must be Ms Beaumont," you smile charmingly. "I've been looking forwards to meeting you. May we come in?"

You push pheromones on her as much as possible, though the coastal wind makes it challenging to have any significant effect. Fortunately, the blonde's fierce gaze begins to soften into one of curiosity.

"Well, I suppose you might as well," she inclines her head. Damn, that accent is sexy! "You will be arrested before you can leave, after all." Turning away, she blinks slowly at you, showing off her long eyelashes and dark eyeshadow. You are all too happy to follow her into her home.

You and your slaves follow Ms Beaumont down a slanted grey hallway, dimly illuminated by lights along the floor, before you emerge into a stunning lobby. Your eyes are first drawn to the wall-to-wall picture window, cut into the cliff face to provide a breathtaking view of the ocean beyond. The room itself is huge, with two levels of balconies looking down on the hyper-modern living quarters. Stylish sofas are spread across the floor, and there is even a waterfall at one end of the room falling into a pool.

"So this is what life is like as a billionaire heiress," murmurs Amy.

"Please, sit," offers the blonde. "Now, I wanted to ask, how did you open the gate? I saw it on the cameras, I can only assume you hacked it?"

"Something like that," grins Rachel slyly, sprawling across a couch.

You throw your coat aside, relaxing as you sense your pheromones accumulating in the room. "Esmée - may I call you Esmée? - can we get down to business: the negotiation of our tenancy of this mansion."

Ms Beaumont snorts. "This is completely ridiculous. I don't know what you possibly hoped to achieve by coming here." However, even as she scorns you, her hands are uncomfortably adjusting her stylish white shirt, brushing against the prominent mounds of her breasts.

You slowly step towards the billionaire. "Here are our proposed terms, Esmée." Her eyes widen as your scent washes over her. "We get complete access to, and control over your entire wealth and assets, including this estate. And you -" you lean close to her, your breath hot on her ruby lips, her brown eyes entranced by yours. "You get to be pleasured and fucked better than you ever have in your life."

Esmée's breath is heavy, her mammaries scraping against your pecs with every heave of her chest. She clings to the little self-control she has left, before her brain is overridden: "What are we talking? Those sexy girls, or{if Futa==true}... you{else} your big cock{endif}?"

"Everything," you whisper, then cross the remaining centimetre to kiss the Frenchwoman deeply. At your touch, every last ounce of resistance drains from her, and her bodacious figure melts into yours. She moans as your tongue enters her mouth, her hands, caressing down your back to slide under your shirt. You pull her close, so her full breasts press against you{if Futa==true}rs{endif}, and she slowly draws her fingernails up your spine, setting your skin tingling.

You could have kissed this beautiful woman for hours, but unfortunately you are aware of the intense time pressure, and pull your head away from hers. Wordlessly, you rip open her shirt, sending buttons flying everywhere, to the squeals of Lauren and Amy. Those huge tits, now bared to you, rise and fall with Esmée's increasingly excited breaths. Large, pink nipples cry out to your attention, and you finger both simultaneously, to the blonde's groans. No, wait, you don't have time for this.

"Kneel," you utter.

Esmée licks her lips, understanding what you have in mind, and complies, quickly unbuttoning your {if Futa==true}jeans{else}trousers{endif} to release your throbbing penis. Her eyes go wide as dinner plates when she catches sight of it, and she reverently takes it in her hands, giving it a couple of exploratory pumps. Her soft, manicured fingers feel exquisite on your hard shaft, but even better is the feel of her tits enveloping it as she prepares to give you a tit job. Her red lips clamp over your head, as she rubs her big cushions along your length. You tilt your head back, blissfully, as the billionaire's tongue flicks against your opening, and she jerks you off with her tits. Sadly, you know you can't savour Ms Beaumont's first act of servitude, and allow yourself to quickly build to a natural orgasm, spurting thick, hot cum into her soft mouth. Invigorated by the phenomenal taste, Esmée eagerly swallows your entire load, before freezing as her eyes turn gold.

You quickly explain to the billionaire her new purpose in life as your personal ****, quickly enhancing her body so it will never need maintenance. You are about to give her a new name, suitable for a servant rather than a billionaire, but are interrupted by an urgent knocking at the door.

"Unfreeze," you hurriedly say, and you cover Esmée's mouth to muffle her scream as she orgasms.

"Quickly, go tell them everything's okay, that you were just getting changed," you instruct her. The Frenchwoman nods, and quickly trots up the corridor to the door, opening it just before the police break it down.

"Sorry, I was just getting changed," she says, her voice no less smooth and enticing.

"Er, ma'am?" you hear a male voice reply awkwardly. "Your shirt?"

"Oh, of course, silly me," she smirks, pulling her button-less shirt back over her breasts.

"You said someone had broken in," presses another man.

"Oh, that was my fault, I had forgotten some friends of mine have a key..."

Growing bored of their conversation, you leave Esmée to dispel the police, and set about settling in. Or rather, Emma does. You, meanwhile, seize Amy and thrust her up against the wall-to-wall window, your enhanced libido demanding attention. Condensation forms where the gorgeous redhead's rosy lips caress the glass. Her chest heaves as your {if Futa==true}breasts press into her back and your {endif}erection presses against her bum through your clothes. The tip of her flushed ear tingles from your breath. Your girlfriend-turned-**** tils her head back to you, her emerald eyes sparkling with adoration and lust as they meet yours.

"What now, baby?" Amy pouts, feigned naivety barely hiding her lust.

You don't answer, {if Futa==true}stepping out of your leggings{else}undoing your belt{endif} and releasing the beast below. Grabbing Amy's curvy hips, you thrust up under her skirt, right into her waiting, dripping pussy. As you watch the waves crash against the cliff below, you pound the hot teen with equal strength, her perky breasts rubbing against the glass and her breath catching in time with each powerful thrust. As you lean in closer to mouth her ear, you see drool leaking from her open mouth, as her eyes roll upwards, beneath her flickering eyebrows. As Amy orgasms for the first of many times against the picture window, you keep pounding into her; most of your mind is consumed by primal passion, but part of it ponders Amy's question.