Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 195

Chapter 195: Starlight: Wedge to the Soul

Her words were confirmation, not negotiation.

I almost laughed. Almost. Instead, I let the silence hang, cock still buried, pulse still owning Victoria’s every nerve. How high? Hell, I didn’t even know the ceiling yet. But I liked their enthusiasm.

"Good girls," I said, tone dripping with mock-affection. "Obedient, devoted, ruined beyond repair... and still asking for instructions. If I were any more of a narcissist, I’d invoice God for creating me."

The body was always the gateway. Complete surrender required heart and soul, but the flesh was the wedge. Drive them insane with lust and satisfaction, make their bodies betray them, and the soul would claw for the same fix. They could pretend otherwise. But I had no fear. Their hearts already leaned toward me.

Their very souls were circling the drain, spiraling into my gravity. It was only a matter of time before they admitted it. Making them love me as much as I love them... my women!

My three new women!

"By the way, Darling Eros... It’s not just about..." Ortega’s hand gestured vaguely at the bed, at the slick, trembling ruin of them all. "...this. There are tests. Other departments at the Center. We’re supposed to assess your... versatility."

A sly current rippled beneath her seriousness. "To ensure you can serve all client needs flawlessly even those at the escort agency." She watched me, eyes narrowing, daring me. "But after what you’ve shown us? You’re no amateur. Not in any department."

Anya snorted, forcing herself upright though her thighs still quivered. "Obviously," she muttered, her voice regaining a sliver of its edge. Her lip curled faintly, but it couldn’t hide the faint shudder as her body betrayed her. "He’s not here to give massages, Ortega. Even I have to admit... even with just a massage, that lustful but solid Senator will fall!"

Victoria moaned softly as my cock twitched inside her, a deliberate pulse. Her voice broke into a laugh that bordered on a sob. "He’s here to give ruin." The words hung, sharp as a vow.

Ortega straightened, her tone shifting, weight settling like stone. "For all its worth, the Voyeur Wellness Center is exclusively for women. Powerful women. CEOs. Wives of millionaires, billionaires. Husbands who neglect them, take them for granted."

Her voice hardened. "They come here seeking satisfaction. Release the frustration and pent up unsatisfied desires." She paused. Her next words cut colder. "The men we employ? None strike deep. None can hold them. They stay only because this place offers a sisterhood... a temporary balm. A poor substitute."

Anya nodded grimly. "A luxury cage. They cry about gilded lives, complain to other women who share their ’ordeal.’ Five percent therapy and talking... finding semblance among each other. Ninety-five percent starvation."

I tilted my head, letting a trace of amusement bleed through. "If they’re only looking for satisfaction... why not hire escorts?"

The reaction was immediate—three sharp laughs, too dark to be genuine.

"Oh, Eros," Victoria gasped, her cunt tightening her grip on me, every muscle hypersensitive under the pheromones bleeding from my skin. "You already know the answer."

"They’re proud women," Anya said flatly. "Too proud to lower themselves. To admit need. Even use. There are always our kind that refuse to reach or do certain things like that just because we crave satisfaction. So instead, we created this place to find what we crave through this. Like two kinds of women... in fact it is three. Us who would rather create a wellness center. The other kind that would hire escorts and the last kind are those who decide to do none at all.

Just Can’t!"

Ortega’s lip curled. "One tried to hire an escort. High-profile. Discreet. What she got... Ooofffff..." her eyes narrowed in disdain as she brews the air. "...was mediocre. Dangerous. Not what she craved. She warned the others. Vigorously." Her gaze snapped back to mine. "They won’t risk it."

The implication hung heavy: they needed someone who was above the shame. Someone who could dominate and also without being disposable. Someone like me.

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