Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50: The Path

Madison pulled out her phone and showed me their website. The place looked like a fucking palace designed specifically for rich women to escape their unsatisfying lives.

"My mother drops three grand a month there," she continued. "Jack’s mother probably spends twice that. These women go there for everything—deep tissue massage, hot stone therapy, lymphatic drainage, couples counseling when their husbands disappoint them, which is constantly. Looking for satisfaction they don’t even get anyways."

"A target-rich environment full of women who desperately need exactly what I’m offering?"

As she talked, I could feel knowledge flowing through my mind like divine inspiration. Every technique she mentioned—Swedish massage, deep tissue therapy, neuromuscular work, myofascial release—I understood them all instinctively. Pressure points that can induce euphoric states, essential oil combinations that awaken dormant desires, breathing techniques that can make women feel reborn.

I was born knowing how to heal these women and their problems regardless of what it is.

"They employ male wellness consultants," Madison explained, "specialists who understand women’s bodies and stress patterns. The pay is incredible, but more importantly, they don’t know what to do to these women the way you do, that too... you’d have direct access to frustrated wives, lonely divorcées, and wealthy women whose husbands treat them like expensive furniture."

But she was missing the bigger picture. This isn’t about targeting rich women because they have money—that’s thinking like a peasant which I wasn’t. Not anymore. The truth is so much deeper than that. This was my calling and my responsibility. Not just money!

Wealthy women are the most sexually starved creatures on Earth.

Think about it: these women are trapped in marriages that are basically business contracts. Their husbands married them for their looks, their social connections, their ability to play the perfect wife at charity galas.

But when it comes to actual intimacy? These men are fucking disasters.

Rich men think money substitutes for knowing how to touch a woman.

They have everything money can buy—personal trainers, private chefs, expensive therapists in wellness centers like one I was about to go to—but they’re starving for the one thing that actually matters: a man who can worship their bodies the way they deserve.

’And unlike working-class women, they have places like Voyeur where they can gather and seek help.’

That’s why these wellness centers exist—they’re sanctuaries where sexually neglected elite women congregate, desperately seeking any form of meaningful human connection. Madison’s connections don’t just give me access to money; they give me access to the most sexually frustrated women in California; all concentrated in one location.

It’s about efficiency, not elitism.

Working-class women need liberation just as desperately, but they’re scattered, isolated, dealing with their sexual frustrations alone. They can’t afford three-thousand-dollar monthly spa treatments or exclusive club memberships. They suffer in silence while their men watch football and ignore their needs.

But I won’t abandon them either. Every woman deserves salvation.

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