Artifact ch.11

The homemaker was pretty enough if not in the glamor model type that Harry was attracted to. And she deserved it, he reminded himself, straightening up.

Slowly, the woman—her name was Namidia? Narcissa? He couldn't keep up—began to come out of her trance. She was smiling. Happy. She would never again allow any amount of alcohol or sleeping with someone to hurt her. He had really done a favor to the poor girl. More than ever, she was aware and fully accepted her place. Harry kissed her on the head and left, walking the rest of the way to his own home. Padma's home. Soon it would be his again. He would make her beg to give him everything. He would even be nice about it. She wouldn't have to suffer like he did.

Harry felt the charm of power moving away from him. He didn't care. Using and abusing it was too much fun. Everything he did, he could undo. He had proven it with the bank manager, with the barista, and now with the Author. It was easy to take, easy to give back.

He still wondered about the white room. What would be the combination—his new watch and the mind-numbing white room?

The white room was an experiment he created when he aspired to be a mind healer. The idea was to remove all ideas of consciousness, all ideas of the subconscious, and leave only the pale fire of the soul. Perhaps it was dangerous, but it was worth exploring. Previously, when he had tried it, his patients would leave almost like zombies. It wasn't until hours later that they returned to normal.

But in this state, in this perfect state of unconsciousness, if he combined it with the powers of the watch, how deeply could he delve into the primal state of the human mind? What would be waiting there? What could he discover? What could he control?

He knocked, but the doors pushed forward, already open. Ready for his arrival.

Padma sat inside. It was incredibly similar to the scene two days ago, but there were a few differences.

She sat in the place he had occupied this time, opposite to where she had been before. While that day she had been dressed in black, as if going to a funeral, she now wore a crimson dress - shorter than the previous one, with a more flirtatious cut around her much-talented chest. Her legs were no longer bare but adorned with smoky stockings, and high, sexy heels adorned her feet.

His wife looked, for lack of a better word, ready to be fucked. His cock suddenly stiffened, clearly bulging in his tight pants.

God, she was wonderful. She had always been so wonderful. That's why he allowed her to torment him for so long.

He wanted her so badly. That's all he could do not to pull out the watch and watch her perfectly sculpted face become completely blank.

"Thank you for coming, Harry," she moved to the side on the couch. "Please, will you sit?"

"Of course."

He lifted the box. "I have a present for you."

She looked at him for a moment, then pushed his wrist, along with the box. "May I speak first? And then you'll show me what you have?"

Harry's alarms started ringing. Something was wrong. But she was so sincere, so willing... he couldn't refuse her. He had never been able to.

"Very well."

"This has all gone so wrong," she shook her beautiful head. Her dark hair glistened lusciously. "I have something to say."

He had waited only a few seconds, but it was much too long—something was happening, and if he didn't take over her mind now, he wouldn't have another chance. He was sure of it.

"Alright," he nodded. "I have something to say, Padma." His hand hovered over the box. "I was so wrong, Harry."

His fingers tightened on the box's lid. "What do you mean?"

"I was wrong. I was wrong to hurt you. I was... I was really disoriented. I should never have done what I did. Said what I did. It was all terribly unfair to you."

Suspicion engulfed him. He knew his wife was intelligent. What was she up to here?

But... perhaps he should listen to her. Damn, she was pretty when she apologized. He had a strong urge to kiss her. He should listen, just for a moment. He could use the watch whenever he wanted.

"Two days ago, you stomped on my heart like it was a worm. What changed?"

"I had...," she turned away, her perfect jaw working slowly. "Last night, I had an experience. With the other one. It was... unfortunate."

Harry felt anger, strong and immediate. "What happened? Did he hurt you? Did he hit you, Padma?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Tears welled up in her glistening green eyes. "Please. Just... can it be you and me again? We don't have to worry about money. We'll figure it out somehow."

"You're right. We don't have to worry about money."

"What?"

"I... have some. I've earned a bit. A big advance," he lied, "for Friday's show. A sudden surge of interest."

"Did you get all the money needed to pay off the loans?" She looked at him with doubt, and he thought - with hope.

"Yes."

"That..." she smiled. "That's wonderful, darling. I'm so proud of you."

He had no idea how much he wanted to hear those words from her. Yet, her lack of questions should have made him more suspicious. But then she slid her hands into her dress and quickly undid the clasp holding her breasts in place. She revealed delicate, firm, perfect breasts. Saliva filled his mouth, warm and sudden. God, he desired her. And now.

The box with the watch fell to the floor. Later. He could do that later. Right now, he desired her, the woman he had married.

Their bodies immediately intertwined, hands roaming hair, heavy moans and hot breasts pressing against each other in ecstasy.

It was hard to remember when she had last been so passionate. Her fingers immediately slipped into his pants, tugging at his already hard, cum-soaked cock. She jerked him skillfully, knowingly, as only a wife could, and when she kissed him, she led him back to the bedroom. Their bedroom.

She laid him on the bed and pulled herself to him. For a few moments, they tangled in the sheets, kissing each other passionately until she found herself on top of him. Her dress was half removed, and the fabric gathered around her slender waist. Her warmth was tangible, filling the space between them. Her soft, tight slit hovered just above his fully erect cock.

With a trembling moan, she lowered herself, and his member sank into her entrance. The thought that his cock was likely still warm and tainted with the pussies of other women made his heart beat wildly. It would make her want it. It would make her not mind.

After all of this. After this perfect, beautiful moment with his wife.

Her thighs were strong, and her torso solid and taut. With all that easy, hot muscle power at her disposal, she milked him beautifully, working up and down his manhood. Her face was a mask of orgasmic pleasure.

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised. "Fuck! You're so hard, so big!"

For his part, he thrust his hips upward, wanting to penetrate her deeper and deeper. He fucked her as hard as he could, with all the power of a man who had regained what he thought he had lost.

"You're so beautiful, Padma," he grunted. "Oh fuck, I love you."

She pulled him into a kiss, their tongues entwined. Her breasts pressed against his chest as she continued her gentle bouncing up and down his shaft. Her tunnel was tight and warm, wrapping around his member like a hot glove. His skin was electrified, and his muscles tightened, gripping his woman firmly.

Soon, he was about to climax. Nothing could stop it. She was so beautiful, and that was the last thing he expected after spending the whole day fantasizing about fully possessing his wife's body once again. To have her love, her true love, it was too much for him. The building feeling of pleasure erupted from his core, pushing his cock deep into her eager pussy. His cum was only seconds away.

But she was right there with him, teetering on the edge herself. His cock, already so deep and hard, pushed into her every way she needed.

Trembling, she came and collapsed onto him. His hips still thrusting upward, ready to release, and when she reached the end of her climax, he shot his deep load into her pussy. Most of it hit her G-spot and rebounded off her body in waves of pleasure. She slowly ground her tight, beautiful body against his, and her pussy tightened around his still-hard cock.

"That was good, baby," she whispered in his ear as they began to doze off. "Very, very good."

Before he drifted off, he couldn't help but feel that she sounded somewhat surprised.

Harry woke up early the next morning, completely rested. He hadn't realized how exhausting his attention had been to all the new girls.

God, they were probably wondering where he was. He had instructed them to pleasure each other and practice until his return. He hoped they were healthy enough to take a break when they needed it. The rationalization would be quite simple - the master doesn't want us to practice poorly, we need to rest, conserve our strength, we need to rest.

But he could just as easily see that convoluted logic going the other way - the Master wants us to practice; we can't stop practicing until he says otherwise.

His hand went for the phone, but it wasn't by the bed, as usual.

"He was in the living room. Right there. Where all the magic began.

God, it was incredible. Returning with Padma, just like that - and better sex than in years.

Already, he felt like he was in a stranger's bed, as if he were in someone else's home. How strange. He would ask Padma to fix it for him. He wanted her to be happy. He would take care of that.

Everything was supposed to fall into place. He had the money now to pay off the debts. That was what mattered most to her. Of course, he would have to find a way to tell her about the watch.

Or maybe not? Maybe he could just stash it somewhere. After rearranging Tracey, Susan, Rose, Fleur, and Daphne's minds to maintain complete discretion.

Good Lord, he had been through quite a journey. He would definitely need to tidy up the house. Make sure they could all handle it without his constant attention.

The thought of all those women moaning his name made his loins swell. Damn. So many beautiful, perfect women waiting for his orders, for what only he could do...

Well. If Padma needed her horizons broadened to let him keep one or two of them, that was his right, right? He certainly didn't want to cast Susan back to the wolves to mourn her deceased husband. And Tracey and Daphne had definitely become more accommodating. They would be perfect sisters. It would mean a lot of money for him, and isn't that what was most important in a marriage - providing for the family?

And God, Rose and Fleur. It was a bit selfish, he admitted, keeping Fleur. But it would be hard for him to give up control over Rose. At this point, those two were a package deal.

What if he hypnotized Padma and interrogated her? Got her honest thoughts about the situation, without letting her remember she had told him?

An honest compromise. After all, marriage was built on compromise.

And if she didn't like what he did, he could easily fix it.

Where was Padma? He didn't hear the shower running. It wasn't like her to wake up so early - it was still dark outside. She usually slept in, though she was quite diligent in almost every other aspect.