Due to unfortunate technical difficulties, I cannot post my chapters on MSB or link them to the Table of Contents.

As a temporary solution, I will link you to RoyalRoad where I also post chapters.

Volume 16: Souls and Bonds starts today.

Enjoy!

[6400 words.]

Events take place between Vol 15 ch 4 and 5.

{Canon but won’t appear in main text}

…

The Capital was an interesting place, thought Deimos as the five of them piled into an elevator to the lower Sectors. There were several of these contraptions scattered all over the place along with more mundane staircases to the underground half of the city.

She hadn’t seen anything like it before. The Capital was a treasure trove of new things in every direction you looked.

If the novel three-dimensional style of architecture wasn’t enough, the eclectic styles of clothing worn by the people was enough to shock their senses. The Capital was a potpourri of Bestia species and fashions in a constant state of flux. Never in her life had she seen so many Pluma flying in the sky. She even saw one with the leathery wings of a bat. A petite, dark-haired boy with a white cloth tied around his eyes. Despite his blindfold, he never touched a single obstacle while flying around.

Everyone on the streets seemed busy, everyone seemed to have a destination they had to reach, and everyone seemed pressed for time.

Deimos quite liked the colourful energy of the bustling city. As someone who had spent most of her life inside the walls of the Felidae Estate, this influx of stimuli was a little overwhelming. She was experiencing culture shock and she wasn’t alone in this matter. Phi-Phi, Ceres and Master were all wide eyed and open-mouthed – their heads spinning like tops as they took it all in.

They might have experienced the Calamity, but that and this were two entirely different, albeit equally hectic, situations.

The main draw of the Wind Sector, according to Lara, was the Emporium. As the commercial sector of the capital, it had the largest agglomeration of retail stores selling everything from groceries to apparel to magical appliances.

The three hours after lunch had been spent there upgrading their clothing to better ‘fit in with the atmosphere’ as Lara had put it. Their entirely new sets of clothing and the bags stored in Phobos’ shadow were testament to their shopping spree.

After they all entered the elevator, Master went forward and pulled the horizontal shutter-style metallic door closed before turning to study the controls. He beckoned for her to approach and when she did, he indicated towards two palm-prints inscribed into one of the wooden walls of the compartment.

“We need to pour some mana into this impression,” he said, pointing at the one which had the word ‘descend’ inscribed under it. “It says wind and earth mana are the preferred types. Deimos, you try.”

Curious, she placed her palm flush with the imprint and let some of her mana flow into it. Intricate markings lit up on the walls of the elevator and the entire thing began to move downwards with a jerk. She watched Master close his eyes as he started studying the mechanism behind it with that odd mana sense of his.

Picking up on what he was doing, Ceres turned to Lara and asked, “How does this elevator work? We don’t have anything like this back home. It’d save us from taking the stairs.” She turned to Deimos and chuckled. “And it’d save sister Deimos here the trouble of leaping out of windows all the time.”

Deimos couldn’t help but feel bashful as she focused her attention on keeping the mana-flow and therefore the descent as smooth as possible. She might have also been trying to hide her blush… but that was definitely secondary. Yes, a smooth ride was her top concern.

From behind her, she heard Lara reply, “Well, it’s pretty simple in theory. There’s this compartment where the passengers stand, and then there’s a counterweight attached to it with a pulley which weighs the same as the empty compartment. So, whenever it is empty, the elevator is stationary, something helped by the pitons that dig into the walls of the shaft when no one is putting mana into the imprint. But when people enter the elevator and feed it mana, the pitons disengage and the elevator descends under the difference in weight.”

“Why the mana though? And why wind and earth mana specifically?” asked Ceres.

Before Lara could answer, Master opened his eyes and answered instead. “The mana activates runic enchantments that lighten or increase the weight of the compartment and the counterweight so that the elevator can move down in a gradual manner. I suppose the other imprint activates a different set of enchantments that would allow the elevator to ‘ascend’ instead. The preference for wind and earth mana is because these two elements are good at increasing or decreasing the weight of objects, therefore inherently compatible with the runes here.” He turned to Lara for confirmation, “Right?”

Despite Deimos’ lack of interest in social maneuvering, even she could tell that Master was trying to impress Lara and demonstrate his value to his potential allies. And it seemed to be working as intended from the barely concealed amazement in Lara’s voice as she said, “When I read the reports about your capabilities, I saw a mention of some sort of mana sense. I thought it’d be useful for scouting but I never would have guessed how impressive it actually is.”

Shaking her head, she continued, “Your analysis is spot on except for a small discrepancy. Instead of having two separate enchantments, the same enchantment has two nodes – the palm prints – so when you input mana in one or the other, the effect reverses.”

“What would people with different elements do? Being unable to use the elevator unless you are a wind or earth mage seems… inefficient.” Ceres interjected.

“The elevator can also run on Aeolian or Lithic crystals… so, that’s not as much of a problem. Just a minor inconvenience. Element conversion inscriptions are way too costly and would make the elevators impractical to create…”

Lara’s response was cut short as, with a slight bump, the elevator came to a stop. “We’re here,” said the cheerful Salamandra with a smile. “If you’re interested in this type of thing, then you’ll really enjoy your visit to the Water sector where we have our Arcanum and public library. It’s the education sector with the Imperial Academy and the Mage Towers present there. For now, let’s focus on the here and now.”

Stepping forward, she pulled the shutter open, revealing the scene outside.

Glowing amber crystals grew out of the roof of the tunnel that stretched out from the gate of the elevator, giving the it a warm ambiance. As the five of them exited the tunnel, they found themselves in an extremely large cavern of which Deimos could see no end.

Master and Ceres had described the magma chamber of the Elemental to her but she was sure that this was much, much larger. A fluorescent moss covered the gently domed ceiling of the cavern, glowing a soft white. That along with more of the radiant amber crystals growing from the ceiling in a scattered manner gave the cavern a warm lighting. Broad pillars held up the ceiling, that on a closer look would reveal that they weren’t pillars at all, but residences and shops that also happened to serve as structural support.

Just like the Wind Sector above it, the entire cavern was filled with a bustling crowd. The noise echoed in the cavern, lending it an even more frenetic atmosphere than the city of skyscrapers they had just left behind.

Stepping in front of the four of them who were staring dumbfounded at this magnificent scene, Lara turned back to face them and spread her arms. “Welcome to the Earth Sector.”

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“So, what’s this place famous for?” I asked Lara as we pushed our way through the crowded streets of the Earth sector. “You said that each sector had a specialty. The Wind sector is the hub for commerce and the Water sector is the sector for education – then what about Earth?”

Deftly dodging a Pluma’s wing, she answered, “The artisans of course. Any form of metalwork you might fancy – jewellery, sculptures, weapons… anything. This sector is where all the skilled craftsmen congregate. Woodwork, leatherwork, gemstones… if it can be wrought by hand, then you can probably find it here.”

Suddenly, Deimos spoke up. “We can visit the forges first, ya? I had a contact commission a weapon for me. She contracted a smith here and when she learnt that I was coming to the Capital, she made it so that I’d be able to collect my weapon from him on my own.”

Oh, right. The thing about Deimos commissioning a weapon had slipped my mind. Thankfully she had contacted Teal, otherwise the weapon would have been delivered to the Felidae Estates before being sent back to the Capital to us. An unnecessary expense made more costly by the current state of the trade route between Regiis and the South-eastern Kingdom.

“Oh? Sure, why not?” agreed Lara. “The smithies are at the border between the Earth sector and the Fire sector. Since most of you were interested in the Arcanum and the Library, I was thinking of taking you through the Earth sector and into the Fire sector where we would take the first elevator up into the Water sector. So, the smithies were on the way.”

I couldn’t help but hold some anticipation towards Deimos’ new weapon. Razor wire was a really unconventional choice and a very, very difficult weapon to master. The amount of control required to wield it without slicing your own head off was mind-boggling. But, correspondingly, the payoffs were immense once it had been mastered. The flexible path of the weapon and its ability to wrap around shields meant that it was incredibly difficult to block. Then, there was the consideration of range. Most conventional weapons catered to one, at most two, ranges. But razor wire was good for close, mid and long-range combat.

It was a weapon that would be more hindrance than aid in the initial stages but in the late stage, it would pay dividends and raise the battle-strength of its wielder by several scales. It was a great investment for the future for someone as hard-working and talented as Deimos. Without any of those two qualities, it was a weapon that could ruin a mage.

The temperatures began to rise as we approached the Fire sector. The residential buildings began to grow sparse, replaced actual pillars of dark stone supporting the ceiling. The lighting dimmed as the luminescent moss growing on the ceiling reduced. Instead, a red glow proliferated from the scarlet crystal rising up from the floor giving the entire region a fiery tinge.

I could see muscular figures in minimal clothing glistening with sweat as they fed metal into massive open smelters out of which glowing orange streams of molten metal poured out. The molten metal was filled into casts and cooled into ingots before being carried away to wherever they were needed. Tanning racks could be seen scattered about with hides in various stages of curing hung upon them. The stench of urine as we passed by one was overwhelming.

The sound of hammers striking anvils filled the air, emanating from the squat stone-walled forges that filled the area. Attached to each forge was a storefront with all kinds of colourful banners that vied for our attention. As we made our way through the area, we were dazzled by the wide array of weapons on display at the shopfronts. From daggers to war hammers; from bows to shields, from throwing stars to whips – there was no weapon that hadn’t found representation in the displays.

Turning to Deimos, Lara asked, “Do you have the address of the contracted smith? Or the name of the shop?”

“Yes. The Forge of the Iron Bear. I was told that it was quite the famous establishment.”

Lara arched an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose you could call it famous but infamous would be the more appropriate term.”

“Why?” I asked. “Is there some issue with the quality of the craftsmanship?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. In fact, the Iron Bear’s skill is among the best in the Capital and the very best in terms of value for money. Practically a steal. Quality isn’t an issue but customer service is. The man is known for being intractable and rude to his customers. He gives no one face.”

“We’re just going to collect a commissioned weapon and pay him for it. There’s little reason for him to be discourteous towards us.” I said.

Lara shrugged. “Hope so.”

Taking a few turns, we finally reached our destination. The shop had a large white banner with the silhouette of a bear standing on its hind legs and taking a swipe drawn on it in black ink. Judging by the crispness of the strokes, it was the work of a calligraphy master. The words Forge of the Iron Bear were written beside the image in the old language using bold brush strokes.

A bear of a man was manning the storefront. His dark brown hair was shot through with grey as was his full-face beard. He had the rounded ears typical of his bloodline and a tuft of chest hair peeked out from under the grey apron he wore over his shirtless body. He was wide enough to fit two of me side by side and his hirsute arms were thicker than my thigh. Contrary to his indelicate appearance, he was working on chiselling very fine runes onto a dagger.

He glared up at us from under his bushy eyebrows as we approached. “What do ye want?” he growled. “Can’t ye see I’m working?”

‘Then why are you sitting at the shopfront?’ I wanted to criticize. His temperament was as bad as the rumours claimed.

Mustering her courage, Deimos stepped forward and said, “Umm… I’m here to collect the weapon I commissioned. It’s razor wire made from the hairs collected off fire ants. It’s ready, ya?”

I could see his eyes widening slightly in recognition before his frown deepened and he snapped, “I ain’t making something like that fer a little girl who doesn’t know her own weight. It’d be a waste of good material.”

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Beside me, I could see Deimos’ brows furrowing at the uncalled-for insult. While there was a part of the raw material that had come from the ants killed by other soldiers, most had originated from ones she had fought and bested herself. Unused to collaborating with other mages, she had put her life on the line to battle ants at her own Tier one-on-one. The rest she had traded with the merits she had earned. The higher Tier hairs had come from the ants hunted by my parents and the Queen I had collaborated with father to take down.

Even if, and that was a massive if, the material was wasted on Deimos… it was her material to waste. The most this man could do was decline the commission; refuse to craft the weapon and tell us to go elsewhere.

I could see Phobos stepping up to defend her but she was forestalled by Deimos’ quiet voice. “Excuse me, sir, but I doubt that we know each other well enough for you to evaluate me so.”

The ends of the man’s eyebrows nearly disappeared in his hairline as his scowl deepened. “Girl, are you questioning me?!” The world around him seemed to warp and grow heavier as the pressure of a Tier 4 at the peak of his realm bore down on us.

I couldn’t help but frown. What kind of behaviour was this? Why was he escalating the situation? There was no reason for Deimos’ few words to drive him up the wall. She had been quite polite in her wording… unless, he had some connection to the Pholidota family and this was their doing. I cast a sideways glance at Lara. She seemed just as surprised as I was, staggering back from the onslaught of the man’s aura like the rest of us.

I couldn’t see the fluctuations of his mana as he was an earth mage but from the increased weight of our bodies, I could guess that he had increased the gravity in his vicinity. But that didn’t mean that I was helpless against him. I couldn’t prevent the bit of anger that rose within me. We were guests here at the Capital, supposed emissaries of the newly formed Kingdom. Instead of paving the way for us and helping us settle down, we were being probed and tested at every turn by the authorities. I set my jaw and stepped forward. If they wanted a demonstration, they would get one.

Any spell that created a field of force, no matter what its Tier, element or Aspect, required an uninterrupted flow of pure mana into it for it to form and be sustained. My soul expanded its sensation, reaching out to the five strains of mana available to it, it grabbed the mana, and pulled.

The wind picked up around us, blowing up some dust; the temperature rose slightly, combining with the increased moisture to make the atmosphere sultry; shadows darkened and lights brightened as the ambient mana gathered towards me in a swirling vortex.

Immediately, the press of the gravity on us weakened drastically as the mana feeding it was polluted by the other elements.

The Iron Bear turned to me in surprise, his eyes taking on an appraising cast. Suddenly, the pressure on me intensified, doubling and redoubling until my knees shook from the strain of keeping me upright. Veins stuck out on my forehead and neck as I clenched my teeth and settled down into the horse stance to endure.

‘At least, he has taken his attention off the others,’ I noticed, trying to find a silver lining amidst the dark clouds while intensifying my mana vortex. I had been inspired by the Elemental to develop this particular usage of my skills. Opposite to its ability to collate all strains of mana into a single one for its personal use, I could only pollute the mana of others, diluting it and weakening their Domain or any forcefield they might be using.

Still, as he kept increasing the density of his mana, I could sense him extruding my vortex by rejecting all foreign mana and regaining control of his spell. This kind of trick was only valid for the first time, when I could catch someone off guard. Once they adapted to the sensation, they would be able to compensate for it. Also, it only worked on mana that was less dense than the vortex I formed. Off the cuff, I could only condense the ambient mana to Tier 3 initial stage density. Any mage above that realm would be able to easily shrug off my influence on their Domain. The Iron Bear had only been using a fraction of his capabilities so I had managed to counter his aura, but now, as he increased the pressure, I was forced to take a step back, the ground cracking under my feet due to my enhanced weight.

*Thwack*

“What are you doing you big buffoon?!”

All of a sudden, the pressure on me disappeared like a bad dream, leaving me panting for breath as I supported myself with my hands on my trembling thighs. Looking up, I saw the Iron Bear who had been so domineering just moments ago, cowering behind a chair too small to hide his huge form as a petite woman with rabbit ears beat him over the head with a rolled-up newspaper.

“I told you!” she exclaimed, “I told you to be nice to the customers and look at what you’re doing! It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes since I left you here.”

The woman had a head of grey hair with wrinkles to match on her tanned skin that indicated an active youth. The fur on her long ears was dark at the tips while age had lightened them towards the base. They were currently set upright in annoyance as she relentlessly laid into the bear of a man with her weapon of choice.

The corner of my mouth twitched. Who was the rabbit and who the bear?

Raising his hands in surrender, the Iron Bear tried to protest. “Marge. Marge! Stop it! I can expl– Stop it!” Seeing that she showed no signs of pausing her assault, he reached out and grabbed the rolled-up newspaper.

Tugging on it a few times futilely, the woman let go of it and crossed her arms under her chest with a ‘hmph’.

“You better have a good explanation for assaulting my customers or you aren’t hearing the end of this, you understand?!”

Getting to his feet and clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment, he muttered in a small voice like a wronged child. “They’re the ones who commissioned the razor wire with the fire ant hairs… I just told the girl that it’d be a waste of good material and they started questioning me. I was just giving ‘em a small lesson is all… then the boy began to resist and I became a bit curious and got carried away…”

Sighing, the woman rubbed her face in exasperation. Turning to us, she said apologetically, “Pardon my boorish husband, please. He really doesn’t know how to speak properly.” Turning to Deimos she explained, “He didn’t mean to cast aspersions on your capabilities… What he meant was that the material you sent us wasn’t suited for creating razor wire. It’d be a ‘waste of good material’ in that way.”

Bowing to us slightly, she indicated towards a room at the back of the shop. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk about this in more detail?”

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The Iron Bear’s wife, Marge, entered the guest room and closed the door behind her. She had driven her husband off into the forge attached to the shop and temporarily closed the shopfront. In her words, “I can’t trust him around people anymore.” I was inclined to agree with her.

But still, I couldn’t help but respect the man a bit. Despite his lack of social skills, he was really staunch when it came to his affection for his wife. The reason I said this was because while he was at the peak of Tier 4, his wife had barely scratched the boundary of Tier 2 middle stage.

That was the reason why she had aged so much more noticeably than him. I estimated that she was around seventy years old. As the lifespan of a Tier 2 was generally around a hundred, her age couldn’t help but come across from her appearance.

Mismatched couples such as this, while not unheard of, were quite a rarity as the difference in lifespan meant that one of the members of the couple would be spending the last years of their life alone mourning their spouse. An unenviable situation. Especially for females who would have the extra worry of searching for another husband to keep Vita’s whisperings in check.

Fortunately, the whispers trailed off after menopause, so, it wasn’t a problem most of the time.

With a sigh, Marge walked over to a cupboard at the back of the room, took out a wooden box, and walked over to us. She took a seat across a table from the sofa we were seated on and placed the box beside her. “I’m really sorry about my husband,” she began. Turning to Deimos, she lowered her head. “You were the unfortunate target of his discontent with his son.”

“Son?” asked Deimos doubtfully.

“Well… you don’t know?” said Marge, looking surprised. “I thought you’d be familiar with him seeing that you worked under him for a while. And, he was the one who forwarded your commission to us.”

“Ah!” I exclaimed in recognition. “You mean Major Ursa? Vincent Ursa from the Firang contingent? He’s your son?”

“Yes,” she agreed, beaming with pride, then she deflated. “But he and his father don’t really get along. That was probably a large part of why he was so rude to you.” She paused a bit, then added: “Beyond his usual, that is.”

That was really no excuse, bringing family problems into work was extremely unprofessional, but Deimos didn’t seem to want to make a big deal of the issue. She said, “It’s fine. There was no real harm done… but could you tell us why the material we provided isn’t good enough?”

“Ahh… well, first of all, the elements don’t really match up. The fire ant hairs are fire element materials and if we wanted to make razor wire – a wind element weapon – we would need to process them by stripping the fire elemental mana from them. I hope you understand why that would be a monumental waste.”

Deimos nodded and I didn’t find her logic hard to follow either. Most of the value in the hairs came from the fact that they had come from beasts that had permeated them with their mana making them extremely sturdy and mana conductive. While they would retain these properties even if the fire mana in them was stripped as the tiny mana channels within them would be retained, the extent to which they would do so would be greatly reduced.

They would still be good materials to craft weapons with, but not the exceptional ones they were now.

Marge continued, “If, instead, we were to turn them into fire element weapons, the effectiveness and efficiency would get a huge boost.” She took up the box from beside her, opened it, and proffered it to us. “Here, see for yourself.”

Within the box, ten hair-thin needles were laid side by side, glittering under the light of the room. Each of the needles was the length of my index finger, perfectly straight, and a beautifully transparent red – like threads of scarlet glass.

All five of us took up a needle and I inspected mine with my soul sense. Immediately, I could see the fine threads of fire mana running through the needle, concentrated at its tip. If I squinted really, really hard and used that technique I had plagiarized off a sailor on the Cloud Whale – the ability to lens air around my eyes to magnify what I was seeing – I could get a fuzzy glimpse of the fine channels running through it.

Turning to Marge, I asked, “Mind if I pass some fire mana into it?”

She shook her head with a smile, “Not at all, it’s material you provided and these are only made from the Tier 2 hairs. Also, no rune work has been inscribed on it. So, they aren’t that precious. Do whatever you want but I would suggest that you try pricking your finger with one as it is – without any mana.”

Curious, I did as she said, pricking the tip of my index finger of my left hand with the needle. Immediately, I regretted it as a fiery pain shot up my finger, seeming to sear a path through my arm straight to my mind.

It was a familiar pain. I had felt it once when I had been bitten by the fire ants Phobos had been using to break the barrier between Tier 1 and 2. Then again when I had bitten by a Tier 2 ant within the Dungeon of Gun. The fiery agony of fire ant venom.

My left leg twinged in sympathy as my memory of the wound in the Dungeon was dragged to the surface. Clenching my teeth, it was all I could do to prevent myself from crying out. The needle fell out of my grasp and onto the ground as I clutched my hand to my stomach and curled up around it.

Really, that mind-breaking pain had left its mark on me. It might seem like I had gotten over it, but in that hectic situation, I didn’t have time to properly process it and it had remained locked away in one corner of my mind, waiting for a chance to re-emerge.

It seemed that fire ant venom was one of my vulnerabilities. Good to know. Thankfully, I hadn’t tried it with mana like I planned and asked first. I don’t know what would have happened otherwise.

The rest of us were showing similar if much weaker reactions, Ceres, Lara and Phobos dealing with the pain better than Deimos. The first two due to their element resisting the fire toxin and the last due to her prior exposure to the toxin.

Forcefully wrestling the trauma back into the box it had leapt out from, I brought my breathing under control and uncurled myself swiftly, unwilling to worry anyone else. Yet, I saw Phobos casting worried glances my way. It seemed that my episode hadn’t escaped her notice.

Thankfully, before she could ask, she was distracted by Marge’s voice. “As you can see, these needles have retained the properties of the beast they came from. If we were to process them and strip the fire mana from them, then it would lose this property. A great depreciation in value.”

She continued to explain with an excited glint in her eye, apparently her enthusiasm for weapon crafting wasn’t less than her husband’s. “Another problem would be joining these short hairs together into a lengthy piece of wire. Instead, flying needles are a much better design choice. The hairs are practically made for crafting needles; very little processing will be needed.”

She turned to Deimos. “Actually, if you were male and were married to a fire mage, a set of needles made out of fire ant hairs would be the perfect weapon. You would be able to manipulate the needles with your wind mana specialized in control and with the fire mana from your spouse, you would be able to affect the flame toxin present in them. It would be a better weapon than even the razor wires you are going for.”

She paused a bit and mused, “Well, not better exactly. If you master the Aspect of Sharpness as well as improve your control, a razor wire can be equally threatening…” She shook her head, “Anyway, the point is, this particular material isn’t suitable for what you want.”

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“Then… what do you suggest?” I asked Marge. “If this material isn’t suitable, then what would be the best alternative? And could we trade you the fire ant hair for it? Do you have it in stock?”

The rabbit-eared woman beamed at me. “Smart young man. As a matter of fact, we don’t, but we will soon. There was a successful expedition into the Second Forbidden Zone not too long ago and the adventurer teams will be coming to the Capital within the month. If you can wait, then I can contact our liaison in the adventurer guild. I can guarantee that we’ll get first pick. The razor wire will be on par with the fire needles we can make from your material.”

The Second Forbidden Zone was situated on the dividing line between the Northern province and the North-eastern province of Regiis. It was a rocky wasteland. A frigid rocky wasteland. A place of vast snowfields littered with towering spires of dark rock and riddled with a vast network of underground rock caverns – it was home to a colony of arachnid beasts.

There were two main varieties of spiders – wind and earth. The wind spiders wove their webs among the tall spires of rock while the earth spiders didn’t weave webs, inhabiting the underground caverns instead. The two varieties were perpetually at war with each other, which was the reason that they didn’t cause much trouble beyond the Forbidden Zone. But, at the same time, if anyone tried to invade the Forbidden Zone, and tap into the rich magical resources formed by the naturally formed Wind and Earth super-topologies, then the two would unite and pursue the foreigners.

Also, there were many sub-classes of the wind and earth spiders, each of them forming small tribes according to their habits and infighting amongst each other as well. It was the second largest Forbidden Zone in the entirety of Regiis, dwarfed only by the First Forbidden Zone – that too only because the giant swarm of locusts that made up the First Forbidden Zone was migratory and all the regions in its path of migration was considered to fall within the range of the Zone.

A large section of the income of the Northern and North-eastern provinces came from organizing expeditions into the Forbidden Zone. If there was a successful one recently then the markets would soon be flooded with spider silk. That was definitely going to be a better material than fire ant hair.

“What species of spider silk would be the most appropriate?” asked Ceres.

She had read up a lot on Forbidden Zones and the usual tactics used to explore and conquer them in preparation for our expedition into the Sixth Forbidden Zone. She was quite a bit more knowledgeable about this topic than me.

“I was thinking Cloud-surfer silk would be the best. If we can’t get that… then Scarp-weaver silk is the next best.” Noticing that Ceres seemed to recognize the names, she commended, “Well… you’re quite well-informed.” Then realization hit her. “Ahh… right. I can guess why. It must have been quite the experience,” she said sympathetically.

“Yes,” agreed Ceres, “it was… Anyway, we’ll need a bit of time to consider. Do you mind?”

“Oh no, not at all. Take all the time you need. But just try to decide within a fortnight… I need time to contact the adventurer’s guild after all.”

Ceres nodded in acknowledgement.

Seeing that the business part of the meeting was over temporarily, Lara burst into the conversation. She looked like staying silent for so long had physically hurt her. “I saw your husband engraving runes on a knife outside. Does he do both the metal work as well as the runes for the weapons?”

“He only does some basic rune work. He mainly works the metal. Most of the advanced stuff is done by me. ” she said, smiling proudly.

Lara’s eyes widened in surprise. “I saw one of your weapons in my father’s arsenal. The rune work was really impressive. Don’t you find it difficult with your cultivation base?”

Marge shrugged. “Tier 2 is more than enough for any sort of engraving. I just have to take more frequent breaks to recover my mana. It takes a bit more time, is all. Blindly chasing a high cultivation without any skill is just silly in my opinion. Which weapon are you talking about? I remember making both a glaive and a bow for your family.”

“Ah. The glaive…”

They went on to discuss runes. It was interesting for a while before they devolved into jargon and I stopped being able to follow. Lara seemed to have quite a bit of expertise in this field. Thankfully, she didn’t continue the conversation for too long, Lara managing to wrangle a promise of another appointment from Marge before we left the store, assuring her that we would let her know of our decision as soon as possible.

“So, you’re a runic craftsman?” asked Phobos as we made our way towards the Fire sector so we could take an elevator to the Water sector, towards the library.

Lara adjusted a lock of her fiery hair embarrassedly. “Ah… no, just a hobbyist.”

“Well, you seemed quite serious while you were talking with Marge. I might ask you for help sometime.”

“Sure. Why not? I’ll be with you guys most of the time anyway in the following weeks.”

Before they could continue, Ceres interjected, “Excuse me, could you tell me if any male in our generation from the Lupin family has married a Salamandra… or is slated to.”

The Lupin family was a family of hereditary nobles descended from the Demigod known simply as the Wind Wolf. I could guess why Ceres was asking the question.

Lara narrowed her eyes slightly at Ceres before relaxing and answering, “Yes. There is. I guess you know that we hereditary nobles are only allowed to marry someone out of our own clan and amongst ourselves. It’s so that the thickness of our blood is maintained and also so it doesn’t get too thick if you get what I mean.”

Not to mention that it would forge closer ties between the families and the Demigods as they would, in effect, be one large extended family. I could understand why they would be miffed at the sudden addition of a hereditary noble family.

Lara continued, “It’s Erin, my cousin sister, who is marrying the Lupin heir: Ivan. And before you ask, we were searching for a bridal gift and the fire needles sound perfect. I do believe Marge was making a sales pitch by demonstrating them.” She shrugged. “Well, she succeeded. If you choose to go for the spider silk, we can help you through our channels. I think we have some Cloud-surfer silk in our storehouse.”

“What’s a Cloud-surfer?” asked Deimos.

Pushing up her glasses, Ceres answered, “It’s a type of spider found in the Second Forbidden Zone. The webs it spin are naturally lighter than air. The silks clump together in the form of clouds that float in the wind and the spiders live above these clouds. The silks are tougher than steel wire and extremely light and long. They are perfect for razor wire.”

Reaching an elevator, all of us got in and once again Deimos injected her mana into the palm-print and it took us to the surface.

Turning to Ceres, Lara said, “I know that it’ll be an unfair deal for you guys as the spider silk you will get will be Tier 3 at the most while you have enough Tier 4 and Tier 5 needles to make a full set that will last a mage their life. I’ll tell you what… sell us this favour and we guarantee that we’ll collect the material for you. After all, Tier 2 and 3 wires will last you a long while yet.”

She chuckled. “If nothing else works, I’ll just have to sacrifice my dignity and act cute in front of grandpa.”

This was dragging the pace of the main volume down so I turned it into a side story. Enjoy!

The Hypnotist’s System

———————————

“Don’t think I don’t know you’re fucking that skank of a waitress down at the bar.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Look. Babe, you can’t be goin’ around flinging shit like that at people. I didn’t touch no waitress. An honourable gentleman is what I am.”

“Oh yeah? Then what’re those expenditures I see on the passbook, hmm? A hundred dollars on Monday, a hundred and fifty dollars on Thursday, another hundred on Sunday… What does the honourable gentleman have to say about that?! You aren’t fucking that waitress, then maybe you’re buying hookers! Which one is it?!”

“Hey, that’s not cool, babe. You can’t be goin’ around snoopin’ in people’s passbooks. That’s like invasion of privacy. That’s what it is. That thing’s illegal.”

“Buying fucking hookers is illegal! Fucking cheating is illegal! You damned bastard!”

As entertaining as watching this meltdown was, the woman was starting to get hysterical. Better put a stop to it now rather than risk them getting to fisticuffs. It’s happened before in my counselling sessions.

I reached down and opened a drawer under the desk I was sitting across from the bickering couple. I took out my favourite prop. Wearing it, I slammed my open palm down on the desk with a resounding…

CRACK.

Both of them jerked towards me and caught sight of my face. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the bright red clown nose I was wearing.

I was prepared and immediately mimicked their feelings of shock and incredulity at their counsellor suddenly looking like a joker. Using those feelings as a bridge I accessed their minds and dragged both of them into a trance state.

The light in their eyes dimmed, their shoulders relaxed, and they sank back into their chairs calmly. If not for their open eyes and upright heads, they might as well have been sleeping.

I rubbed my forehead. Getting two at once was still a bit difficult for me.

Taking off my trusty prop, I put it away.

Now, from the earlier conversation, it was pretty clear that the husband was cheating, but as a professional, it wouldn’t do to just assume things.

Thankfully, I had the means to easily confirm the truth.

“Did you cheat on your wife?”

All I had to do was ask the man.

“Yes.” He replied in a voice devoid of any emotion.

“Well, glad that’s out of the way. Now, who did you cheat with?”

“Ashley, the waiter at the pub downtown.”

“Oh? Do you have a picture of her?”

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

Like a wooden puppet he reached into the pocket of his pants and extracted his phone. After fiddling with it for a while, he reached out across the desk and handed it to me before leaning back in his chair.

I adjusted the nameplate on my desk reading Dr Denver Adams which he had knocked askew. Then I turned my gaze to the phone screen.

I let out an involuntary whistle.

The picture was of a dark-skinned girl, completely naked. She had beautiful cocoa skin that shone under the flash of the camera, delectable breasts the size of apples, slim waist and wide hips. Her thick dark nipples that made you immediately want to pinch them were erect at the centre of her large areola and her pussy was shaved.

She was a stunner, this Ashley.

I swiped through the gallery and wasn’t disappointed to find more than one picture of her. They included her in various stages of undress, starting from a school-uniform to her birthday suit.

Cosplay and striptease. Damn this guy was really a gentleman.

The only thing marring the perfection of the photos was that in each one Ashley had covered her face with her hands. I guess she was trying to maintain plausible deniability if the guy tried his hand at blackmail.

The only other feature I could make out was that Ashley had her hair styled in frizzy curls with gold highlights.

“Show me your chat logs with her.”

I handed the phone back to him and after some fiddling, he handed it back.

I skimmed through the chat log. It was pretty much what I had expected. Lots of digital canoodling with emojis, calling the guy Daddy every other sentence, oblique references to promises of sexual rewards if the guy bought her this cosmetic, or that handbag… The whole sugar daddy schtick.

I was just about to close the case and declare my verdict when I reached the final message in the log.

“Hey Daddy! You remember the friend I talked about last time? I convinced her to come! I showed her a pic of you and she’s totally into you. Let’s meet up in front of the shop this Sunday. We’ll show you a really good time.

Love you, Daddy. ~muah~

P.S. She’s a virgin!”

There was a picture of the second girl attached. One look at her and my eyes shone. The girl probably wasn’t a virgin, just calling herself one to raise her price. But just in case she was…

I quickly sent out a reply agreeing to meet up at the designated place before deleting the entire thread as well as the contact from the phone. I also deleted all the pictures except for one, the nude, which I transferred to my laptop. Then I deleted that too.

Returning the phone to the man, I asked:

“What do you fear the most?”

He shuddered even in his trance state.

“Lizards.”

Good, good. I have those.

I went to my desktop, navigated to the folder “creepy-crawlies”, and found one of the most horrifying lizards I could: the Komodo dragon.

Using my phone to snap a picture of the man’s still dazed wife, I transferred that to my laptop and set up an infinitely looping slideshow of the three pictures – Ashley, the Komodo dragon and his wife.

Starting the slideshow, I turned the laptop towards him.

The three pictures flickered on his dazed eyes.

Closing my eyes, I reached out to him with my mind and tried to sense his emotions. After a bit of fumbling around, I caught his unique bandwidth and jacked into it.

His emotions were damped by the trance state I had put him in but if I focused hard enough, I could still catch what they were.

The shrill, screechy sound of horror. (Obviously for the lizard.)

The deep, mellow sound of lust. (Ashley! Look what you’re doing to your Daddy.)

The flat monotone of boredom. (Ah, this guy cheated cause he was bored of his wife. No guilt. Not even a bit.)

Oh well, looks like he deserved what was coming.

Using my mind, I rewired his emotions and changed up the connections. They were like three plugs slotted in three sockets and I was swapping them around.

I linked his lust to his wife, the horror to Ashley, and the boredom to the lizard. Then I played around with the degrees of the emotions until I had what I wanted.

After this, the guy would only be able to get horny when he saw his wife’s face. Any other woman he managed to undress would just make his skin crawl.

Stopping the slideshow at the lizard, I ordered his wife to say “No.” several times. Reaching into his mind, I connected the word to the boredom engendered by the image.

Done! I could just imagine what would happen. If sex was a drug, his wife was the dealer and he the addict. And he was totally hooked.

He would get horny whenever he saw his wife, but she could stop him cold with just a word. There was no doubt in my mind about who would wear the pants in this relationship in the future.

I turned my gaze to his wife who was still in her trance, drooling slightly from her partly open mouth. I checked her out from top to bottom and the corners of my lips curved upwards into a smile.

It was time to have her thank me for bringing her husband to heel.

…

I followed some fundamental rules, one of which was: Never cuck an innocent man. But if he was cheating… then his partner was free game.

There were two parts to my power – somnus control and somatic control.

Somnus control meant that I could put my subjects in a trance and then mess around with their minds. I could implant suggestions, erase memories and shift their association of emotions around.

The only limitation was that I couldn’t control more than two people at a time and that the suggestions I planted couldn’t be too drastic or they would be automatically rejected by the brain.

After a successful use of the power, the subjects would wake up feeling like the whole experience was a dream.

Somatic control, though, was actually much cruder. With it, I could control the body, but the mind would remain awake – as a prisoner within a cage of flesh.

I could use both types of control together, or in isolation.

With a snap of my fingers, both the man and the woman woke up.

I didn’t wake them fully though. For the woman, I brought her consciousness almost to the surface. It was like a light daze… the kind you have after one too many drinks and gave her back full control of her body.

The man, I woke up halfway (he’d think he was having a really vivid dream) and sealed his ability to move. Now, he could only sit in that chair and watch.

“W-what’s going on?” asked the woman groggily.

I cast a quick glance at the file to get her name.

“Hello Amanda, you arrived at my clinic for marital counselling, remember?”

“Huh? Ah, yes. I remember now… He was cheating on me, wasn’t he?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Yes, he was.”

This semi-trance state made her more susceptible to my words. My being a professional counsellor lent a lot of credence to my words in her mind. She immediately believed me.

“Damn bastard.”

I was surprised. From how highly strung she had been before, I expected her to try and physically assault him. Instead, she slumped in her chair in an extremely dejected manner. After a while I could her soft sobs and see her shoulders shaking.

Well, it was my first session with them so I hadn’t had time to do a full psych eval on them so I could be forgiven for my misjudgement.

Reaching into her mind, I found it awash with a sense of betrayal, sadness and only a slight tinge of anger.

She was in her early thirties. Five foot six. Pale skin with a smattering of freckles. Light brown shoulder-length hair worn loose with a burgundy streak down the side. Despite being a mother to a three-year old boy, she had kept her figure, maybe even added a few inches to her generous bust and hips. I especially liked her legs. Long with beautifully toned calves.

I licked my lips. Delicious.

Reaching into her mind, I increased the amount of anger she felt and dialled the sadness down. I could see her back straightening and the fire returning to her slightly unfocused eyes.

Timing it right, I lunged across the desk and grabbed her wrist before her haymaker could knock her husband to the floor (and break my somnus control over him).

“Let me go!”

Amanda began struggling to free her wrist from my grasp but with a sharp tug, I pulled her off balance, causing her upper body to fall onto my chest while our lower bodies were still separated by the desk.

“What’re you doing. Stop. Let me go. Mmmh…mmmh…”

I hugged her to me tightly with one arm, pinning both her arms between our chests. Then I pressed her face into my chest with my other hand at the back of her head, muffling her cries. Not like I needed to, though. My clinic was soundproof.

Reaching into her mind I found fear and a tiny bit of lust had been added to the mix. I dialled down the former until she stopped struggling and settled into my embrace. Soon, she began crying again in great heaving sobs, putting wet spots on my shirt.

I just held her and gently rubbed her back as I slowly but steadily drained the sadness out of her.

The thing about this kind of therapy was that you couldn’t be crude or impatient with it.

If you just forcibly pushed the sadness down, it wouldn’t solve the problem as it didn’t address the root cause. Sometime later the sadness would return.

Basically, symptomatic treatment versus holistic treatment.

What I was doing now was gradually elevating her mood, mimicking a natural recovery curve (obviously sped up several times – I didn’t have weeks).

The effects were immediate, her sobs died down to sniffles until she became peaceful in my embrace.

I bent down and whispered into her ear, “How are you feeling Amanda?”

I could feel her lust spike. Nothing unexpected as many had told me before that my voice was the very definition of sexy.

But that lust was soon overpowered by embarrassment and she began to struggle to push me away again.

Turning her face sideways so her cheek rested against my chest, thereby freeing her mouth, she replied, “I-m fine. P-please let go of me.”

I began to trail the hand with which I had been pressing her head against me down her spine. She shuddered. Even without any mental hijinks from me, her lust began to rise steadily as I reached lower and lower while her embarrassment followed suit.

Her head freed, she looked up at me with teary eyes and pleaded. “P-please stop.”

That beet red face coupled with those eyes red from crying – a combination of adorableness and vulnerability that sent a tingle right down from my spine to my loins. I knew I was pitching a tent down there.

“Ahh…” she shrieked in surprise as without any warning, I spun her around and pulled her to me causing her to be seated on the desk with her back pressed up against me, displacing a lot of files and stationery.

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of her husband who was looking at us both with semi-dazed eyes. His breathing was rapid and there was a bulge clearly visible at his crotch.

Her emotions immediately became chaotic. Since he was being so silent, she had clean forgotten about her husband.

“Ahh…mmhhh…”

She opened her mouth to scream out, but I immediately stuffed three fingers in her mouth and pressed down on her tongue, muffling her voice.

Resting my chin on her shoulder, I spoke into her ear, “Don’t you want to get back at him?” I started pulling down all the other emotions slowly, leaving the lust to rise on its own. I also pulled her a little deeper into the trance.

Her breathing started to get rougher as her eyes glazed over slightly. Her plump chest began to rise and fall alluringly. I could see her husband’s eyes drawn to that. The suggestions I had placed on him were arousing him upon seeing his wife.

Amanda’s eyes too fell on her husband and I could feel her anger rearing its head.

“I can help you.” I whispered before abruptly quashing that anger.

Without me even having to do anything, her lust spiked, breaking through the roof of her morality. With a shudder, she gave up all inhibition and her ample butt pressed up against my erection, rubbing against it over the layers of our clothing.

Closing her eyes, she moaned, her slippery, moist tongue rolling all over, around and in between my fingers, sending tingles up my arm.

By now my member was practically throbbing in anticipation and I was at the limits of my patience.

“Raise your hands,” I growled into her ear with a tone of command.

She complied without hesitation. Taking my moist fingers out of her mouth, I grabbed the lower hem of her t-shirt, and in one smooth motion, divested her of it. It revealed a beautiful body with rather boring, pale-pink lingerie.

Her bra hooked at the front. Wasting no time, I undid the clasp and her beautifully shaped c-cups popped out and bounced in front of her.

I mentally ordered her to wrap her raised hands around my neck and arch her back, pushing her breasts out further.

I grabbed one of the globes of flesh and my fingers just sank into it. Her breasts didn’t have the firm elasticity of a younger woman, but age and pregnancy had added volume and softness to them. Her body, her scent… she was a thoroughly mature woman. One I had at my mercy.

With a low growl, I grabbed both of her breasts with my hands and knead them roughly, thoroughly memorizing their shape and feel.

The beautiful small rose-coloured nipples on top of her breasts were already hard and stiff and as I slid my hand over them, I could feel the small nubs of flesh pressing up against my palm.

Pinching one of the nipples, I pulled, stretching the breast, then let it go, making it bounce back into shape and jiggle.

All the while, Amanda threw her head back, resting it on my shoulder and moaned and mewled in my ear as I fondled her breasts.

Looking over her shoulder, I drank in the sight of her exposed body.

There were cute little freckles speckling the pale, nearly translucent skin in the region between her breasts. I was sure she was someone who’d burn instead of tan in the sun.

And she didn’t seem like a woman who would spend hours at a gym. Her stomach wasn’t toned. It wasn’t flabby either. It just looked soft and inviting.

Continuing my ministrations on her breasts with my left hand, I trailed my right hand downwards over her stomach and pressed my fingers into the soft flesh there.

Her lust coloured with embarrassment and she protested in my ear through gasps.

“No… not there.”

I would have teased her further, but I was already at my limit.

Letting go of her, I stepped back and swiftly began undressing while at the same time, mentally ordering her to take off her pants.

She had less clothes to take off, so she finished earlier, and driven by her lust, she pounced on me across the table just as I had my pants half-way down.

I staggered backward from her weight and into my chair while she sprawled across the desk with her face in my crotch.

Her eyes brightening at the sight of my towering monster, she wrapped her eager fingers around the shaft with one hand and caressed my balls gently with the other. Using her forearms to prop herself up on my thighs, she raised her eyes and gave me a smouldering look before including the tip of my cock into her warm, moist mouth.

Grabbing onto the hand rests, I leaned my head back, closed my eyes and let her work her magic.

As she soon proved with her tongue, she was one talented woman, her mouth and hands coming together to drive me rapidly up the staircase of pleasure.

Thankfully, I was well equipped to deal with this situation. A small mental tweak and the sensitivity of my member was reduced. Although this meant that the sensation from her mouth and hands was a bit dulled, it also meant that I could last much longer.

No longer having to give my all to bear the pleasure, I opened my eyes to take in the exquisite curves of her naked body as she lay on her stomach atop the desk and propped herself up on my thighs with her forearms. There was a strong temptation to just grab her hair that was spilling around her head and take control, but that would just mess up her expert rhythm. Instead, I leaned forward and ran both my palms up her bare back and upon reaching her butt, squeezed the two elastic globes of flesh.

Amanda seemed to love it as her lust spiked and she shuddered under my palms.

My eyes met the glazed eyes of her husband who was twitching in his seat like someone who was suffering from a bad dream and couldn’t wake up.

I smirked as an evil idea popped into my mind.

Warning Amanda beforehand, I turned her around till she was facing up again. With a bit of effort, I positioned her body, so her feet were resting on the hand-rests of her husband’s chair and her back was on the desk.

I had her clutch the further edge of the desk to brace herself as I let her head hang over the nearer edge.

Standing up and kicking my pants that were bunched around my ankles, I stepped forward. Bending my knees slightly and positioning my cock with my hand, I pressed it up to her face.

Amanda’s eyes followed the approaching tip, going cross-eyed as it touched her soft lips. Without needing a prompt from me, she parted them obediently and I slipped into the moist warm cave again.

I felt her tongue licking the tip, sending shudders up my spine as I pushed in slowly until I met the back of her throat. Pausing a bit to suppress her gag reflex with my mind, I pushed further until my balls pressed up against her nose.

I could feel her throat convulsing against the tip of my penis while her tongue worked on my shaft. Her warm breath was tickling my balls.

If not for the sensitivity adjustment, I’d have shot my load down her throat right then and there.

I ran an eye over her as I adapted to the pleasurable sensations.

Her beautiful breasts were spread to the sides without sagging, quivering slightly with each of her rapid breaths.

Her legs were spread, each foot resting on one of the handles of her husband’s chair, giving him a front row seat to the sight of her pink pussy lips opening and closing as they glistened with the proof of her excitement.

Her throat bulged slightly from the invasion of my dick and as I ran a fingernail over the skin it convulsed as it triggered her to reflexively swallow, nearly sending me over the edge.

Unable to wait any longer, I leaned over and grabbed her breasts. using them as handles, I drew back from her throat slowly with a wet sound and then drove back in at an equally sedate pace.

With her lips sealed around my cock, her cheeks caved from the vacuum whenever I drew back and I fucked her mouth in slow long strokes that only left my tip in her lips at one extreme and left me balls deep in her throat at the other.

It didn’t take long for Amanda to adapt to the rhythm and she put her tongue to good use – wrapping it around my shaft when I was deep and licking around my tip when I pulled back.

Unwilling to let her take control, I began to increase the pace and whenever I came close to cumming, I would slow down again to extend the experience. I could feel a painfully pleasurable pressure building up in my balls.

At my limit, I sheathed myself fully in her throat and leaned over her body. Grabbing her thighs to keep them apart, I busied my face in her crotch in an unconventional sixty-nine.

With my tongue I explored her gushing depths while her muffled moans around my cock shoved me ever closer to the brink.

With the blood pounding in my ears, I spread her pussy lips apart with my hands, exposing her clit. Then, leaning down, I gently bit it.

She came.

Her entire body flickering and curving like a fish out of water as her orgasm rippled across her. she screamed of her release around my cock and the convulsion of her throat was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

With a primal grunt of pleasure, I shot my thick, hot load down her throat.

I collapsed on top of her, feeling the warmth of her quivering body pressed up against mine as post-coital languor rendered me utterly unwilling to move.

But my weight would be uncomfortable for Amanda so with great reluctance, I pushed myself up and off her.

Looking up at her husband, I smirked when I saw the glistening liquid covering his face. She had squirted hard enough to paint his face with her lust.

He was breathing like a bull and I could see his cock straining against his pants. His mind was drowning in lust with absolutely no way to release it.

Smirking, I slowly pulled my softening cock out of Amanda’s mouth. It exited with a ‘pop’ trailing several glistening strings of saliva.

She rolled around on the desk and pushed herself up with her arms. Head bent down, her beautiful brown hair cascading around it she coughed from the lingering sensation of my dick in her throat.

Her face was a mess of her own saliva, tears and runny makeup… but to me, she looked absolutely gorgeous.

Bending down and extracting a handkerchief from the pocket of my discarded pants, I walked up to her. Pressing her chin between my fingers, I raised her face and wiped the mess away.

All the while her half-dazed eyes never left my face, as though desperately struggling to remember it even past her trance.

Her emotions were a warm mass of satisfaction and contentment along with the lingering echoes of lust. I suppressed those last ones and she practically melted into me, wrapping her arms around me and nuzzling her face into my chest like a well-fed cat.

Chuckling, I used the handkerchief to wipe my penis dry before tossing it into the trashcan beneath my desk.

Slipping an arm beneath her knees, I picked her up set her down on my lap after I sat in my chair. She curled into me tighter, nuzzling my neck and breathing my scent in greedily.

“Hey, how’d you like it?”

“Good…” she breathed out, “the best. Ever.”

I laughed. No matter how many times I heard that, it was always an ego boost. Pinching her face, I gently turned it towards her husband.

“And what about him? He seems like he’d like to do something with you too.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, little spikes of panic and guilt stabbing her mind before they were all smothered by the overwhelming contentment she felt now.

Turning her head away from him, she buried her face back into my neck and hugged me tighter.

“No!” she exclaimed like a petulant child.

As soon as the word was out of her mouth, I watched her husband deflate like a pricked balloon. All his building lust drained away like water down a sink and he slumped in his chair, falling deeper into his daze.

I nodded in satisfaction. That was a perfectly successful test.

Taking a look at the clock I realized that the time for my next appointment was drawing near. Looking down at the woman in my arms I sighed. All good things must end.

I ordered Amanda to get off me and get dressed while I did the same. As soon as we were both decent, I had her clean her husband’s face with another handkerchief before sitting back in her chair.

Reorganizing the mess made by our lovemaking, I rearranged the desk to what it had been at the beginning of the meeting before leaning back in my chair and snapping my fingers loudly.

Both my victims woke up from their trances. They blinked owlishly for a moment before their eyes fell on me.

Amanda blushed red down to her neck and averted her eyes while the husband just frowned slightly before returning to normal.

In my most professional tone of voice, I said,

“That’s the end of our discussion for today. I’ve taken down both your points of view but to get a more detailed understanding, I’ll need to have a few more sessions with you. Separately and together. You can talk to my secretary outside. She’ll schedule you for next week.”

I smiled.

“But sometimes just putting your issues out in the open in front of a confidential third party can be enough to solve some problems. I’m sure we’ll see a marked improvement in your relationship by next week’s meeting.”

Both of them stood and thanked me, Amanda still avoiding eye contact, before leaving me alone in my office.

I leaned back in my chair with a smile.

There would be a ‘marked improvement’ all right. This was a sort of test. Amanda’s husband would obviously proposition her for sex with those suggestions on him. If she forgave him and accepted his advances, then I wouldn’t meddle any longer and they’d be one happy couple.

But… if she didn’t…

I leaned back in my chair with my hands clasped in my lap and looked up at the circular lights embedded in the ceiling.

I was reminded of a poem I had read in my childhood.

– “Will you walk into my parlour?” said the spider to the fly; – ^|1|

I was the spider… and my webs were vast.

^|1| — ‘The Spider and the Fly’ by Mary Howitt

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