The Spider and the Fly 18+ (gin)

[Rumpleteaser]

“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly,

'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;

The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,

And I've a many curious things to show when you are there.”

 

 

Four weeks. It had only been four weeks since David had been released from Westmead Insane Asylum. He wasn't in the best of spirits but he wasn't soft and spongy in the head either. He'd regained most of what made him himself. He'd recovered from their tests and therapies but he was sorely in need of some sexual relief. Six months was a long time. His previous pets had all moved on with their lives, thinking he'd most likely died of his own spells and potions. The twenty-five-year-old had started to look for new prey but none of the fops or flirts had tickled his fancy. He needed someone with a body he could sink his teeth into, one that would respond to his treatments. They had to have enough fight in them too, he didn't want one who would swoon and cower the moment they saw the lash.

 

A long exhale escaped David's nostrils as he sat cross legged in the middle of his basement. The meditation was not working. His mind was still too troubled and hectic for him to be able to summon the mental state needed for divination. He reached his hands out and placed them down on the rune bones - human finger bones from a set of twins that had died of cholera ten years ago. The divine connection between twins meant there were sixty phalanges to play with in the set instead of thirty. Currently, however, they were telling him nothing. The bones did not move as David ran his hands across them again. There was discernible no pattern to them.

 

'Lisce, berbeh, shabti, gornon!' David cast in a rich tone.

 

The witch's voice rose as he repeated the four coordinates, imbuing the bones with the power of The Four Sages who watched over the world. They rattled on the dusty wooden floorboards but did not move. David picked them up, his voice pitched higher and he threw them into the air. All at once, the witch was silent. his eyes remained closed as the bones rattled and skidded within the chalk circle. He waited for all rattling to stop before opening his eyes. What he saw drew a dangerous smile to the witch's pink lips. He licked them softly, as they had dried out in the dusty, dry air of the basement. It seemed the bones had some power left in them after all.

 

The bones told news both good and bad. He would have to wait five years before he could revenge on his father, Lord Louis Vertox, the one who had instrumented his capture. He'd had his men attack David's townhouse in the center of the city. There had been many explosions, the first man into the house had died, another had had his throat slashed and a wizard had needed to be called in to remove a third and forth from some eldritch black tar that had crawled up their legs and locked them in place. David had not gone down easily, even though he'd been in a fey trance for the hours preceding the attack. If only he'd begun his meditations early that day, he might have been able to transport himself to his lair or even one of the safehouses he owned through this city and the next.

 

It had all been to prevent David from gatecrashing his older brother's graduation. He'd been locked away for six months under the guise of having borderline personality disorder. It was a lie, of course, the asylum had been well paid to keep David locked up and under treatment. Vertox had paid for the padded cell, the shock therapies, the psychiatrist's visits, the concoctions of drugs and everything else the doctors wanted to conduct. Lord Vertox gave them permission to test out anything they liked, so long as they kept David locked up and out of the way until after Demetri Vertox's graduation. Vertox had even invested in a special amulet to stop David casting any magic.

 

The Vertox family lived in a world of science. Magic existed but was little known and often disregarded. Charlatans, fraudsters and the rise of the educated man had ruined people's believes in such things as witches, magic and the arcane mysteries of the universe. Even the power of the church was diminished in light of the promise of understanding science brought to the world. People preferred speculative fiction about flying machines, creatures of the deep and steam powered weapons over fairies and old gods. It was a world in which electricity was a curiosity, insects were studied under microscopes and the first filament light bulbs were invented. There were no automobiles yet but people could now envision such a thing existing, with the promise of science. It truly was a fascinating time to be alive.

 

David cared little for science, in that he cared little for anything beyond witchcraft and business. History was as dull as dust and science had a lot of catching up to do before it understood nearly as much as the magical community did about the world. He knew enough to hold a conversation and kept himself current. That was enough. People came to him for spells, potions or to have evidence eradicated, not to describe the flow of electrons.

 

The witch looked over the bones again then scooped them into their leather pouch. He had to be going before his "honoured guest" arrived. It was the second thing his bones had foretold. They had warned of a break in at his abode, though which abode was beyond David. It could mean the four-story townhouse he was currently in, the dungeon room he kept for private audiences or his lair in the woods. It was unlikely anyone would break into his lair; it was too far in and they'd be dead if they did. The bones had implied David would have a new romance, not a corpse to bury. In fact, he would have to lower a few of the enchantments to make sure his guest arrived safely.

 

David stood up and dusted away the chalk circle, sweeping the powder into a dustpan before taking it up to the ground floor to be burnt in the fireplace. One could never be too careful. The first spell David lowered was the one that would kill the first intruder who broke into his home. It cost too much energy to kill every person who entered and it would only end in a pile of dead, so he always cast a spell to stop the heart of the first person. He also lowered the ones that would react immediately to intruders. He wanted this person, whoever they were, to scurry about before they were attacked. He only left the enchantments that reacted upon touch. The person could wander about the house, open doors, break windows and get into the attic all they liked so long as they did not pick up any artifacts or touch any of the furniture.

 

The moment the person touched anything, the item would rattle, shake and hum as though trying to bring itself to life. It would stretch out towards the would-be sneakthief, a pair of lips would appear and it would shriek bloody murder. At having picked it up, the person would not be able to put it down. It would be attached to the person's body as though it were their own flesh and blood. The thing would continue to shriek in a blood-curdling manner wherever the person went, until they conceded to return to have the hex removed. In that way, it didn't matter if David caught the person or not. They would have to return unless they wanted to have a shrieking, lippy object attached to them for the rest of their days.

 

Chuckling to himself, David slapped his hands together to make a circle of his arms and muttered a few words under his breath. Doing so teleported him to the next place on his list of locations to check - the dungeon. The dungeon was little more than a man-made cave about five-hundred yards under the ground and two miles out from the edge of town. It was a project David was working on but also had a room for his special pleasures. The room was full of apparatus that would make even the bravest of men blush. There was need to second guess what those implements were used for. So many of the things hanging on the walls had a phallic look to them or were obviously used to cause pain. It was where he brought those foolish enough to catch his interest or displease him in any way.

[gin]

SPORADIC. Cerulean hues observing the grand ballroom hall, his gaze lingered at the huge chandeliers that threatened to stab thy eyes the moment it falls off from the ceiling. The huge white tiles with golden cursives laid pristine at the grounds, walls ebbed with the most expensive marbles and huge Corinthian pillars stood erect in a neat manner. All of these tidbits weren’t left unnoticed from the view of a man who was clasping a flute of champagne with his both hands.

 

If someone could just pass by and catch a glimpse at this delusive wallflower, one would simply think that he’s a commoner, a son of a cook that was just invited out of courtesy. To everyone’s dismay, Maximus was part of the family who organized the party. The third son from the house of Seymour that holds the golden crest of two dragons prowling at each other.

 

The fact that no one noticed the hidden gleam of wisdom and mischief in Maximus eyes made the man smirk which was completely out of character for a seemingly plain lad.

 

A couple of girls passed by in front just to watch him from head to toe like an exotic animal then followed by their sophisticated giggles. Who wouldn’t? Despite being invisible, in the stark contrast of people wearing expensive suits and gowns, Maximus was just wearing a plain white sleeve, a pair of washed off pants and some dirty boots. Two huge reading glasses perched up on his nose and a crazy blond hair that covered his eyes, begging to be combed. One would say he’s just that ‘middle child’ left to his own devices. No woman would have an interest with such a tasteless sob.

 

Despite all of their attention now diverted to the ‘better’ looking siblings, Maximus was scanning every attendee’s prize possessions, appraising each of the jewelries worth. Despite not wanting much attention, being rich has its pros, especially when said guy was an elite thief in a huge quest to steal goods from the rich.

 

Robin hood had a righteous bone, Maximus? None. Sure he’d given a thing or two to the charity but it wasn’t really the priority. Just the sheer excitement and euphoria he’d get when he’d stolen an important piece from a very dangerous area was the reason as to why Maximus was doing his thing—stealing that is.

 

I guess rich and noble people like him needs a hobby, a strange kind of hobby.

 

At a young age, Maximus knew he was different from his spoiled siblings. He was older beyond his years, he’d always find a way to seclude himself from the rest. Afraid they’d get a glimpse of his real attitude. Nobility were supposedly regal, immaculate and worthy; not something rude, brute and crass. Of course he’d a hard time suppressing all of it behind a mask, especially when one’s sibling tends to be a douche.

 

“I see you’ve set your fascination on that one Max,” Adrien whispered to a pensive Maximus who just bobbed his head out of his mate’s commentary.

 

Adrien Louvre was the only person Maximus treated as his brother despite having no blood relations. He was the gardener’s son that suggested the idea of doing something wild to a very young Maximus. Teaching him how to escape the harsh pressure of the lies their society portrays, the lines that should never been crossed. Of course his parents were aghast with the idea of him befriending a commoner but it wasn’t their decision to make, it was his.

 

“Mmm that ruby begs to be stolen.”

Maximus hummed in amusement as he met the crimson gleam of the huge ruby at the center of the woman’s chest that almost popped out of hello. That woman knew her 'asset' quite well, displaying it to a crowd of hungry men.

 

“Forget about the ruby.” Adrien slung his arm at Maximus neck and dragged the young lord away from the crowded ball, “now follow me.” The both of them traversed the long hallways covered with a crimson carpet. Walls decorated with highly expensive portraits and artifacts. In fact, if given a chance, Maximus could’ve sworn he’d wanted to steal everything in their house and sell it. It would make all of his 'sophisticated' siblings and regal parents go crazy.

 

As soon as they’ve arrived at the library, Adrien relayed a message of a certain four-story townhouse owned by someone who had just recently arrive from town. Rumors has it that said house had lots of expensive artifacts. Town folks often saw these artifacts randomly displayed in a view from a window.

 

“That sounds suspicious, funnily though people won’t just let their prized possessions displayed to a public eye,”

With his hand clasped under his chin, Maximus thought these objects needed to be appraised by his own naked eye.

 

“Aye but that’s not the real issue, someone saw a gleaming object at the fourth floor, isn’t that in need of investigation, Legendary Thief?” Stupid, that was the word that appeared inside Maximus head, these town folks had nothing to do but spread rumors.

 

Legendary thief, it was the alias given to Maximus by the authority since he’d never been caught nor they’d gotten a clue as to the town’s thief identity. Many had failed, Maximus was never one of them. He was sly as a fox and always think things through before rushing out to chase the golden goose.

 

“Now let’s try to affirm those rumors.”

He’d tap Adrien’s shoulder before exiting the library. The young lord needed to change his clothes to a monochromatic black or he’ll stuck like a sore thumb hovering all over the place. The usual glasses wearing commoner attire needs to have a time off.

 

 

Wearing his usual ‘thief attire’, Maximus wore an all-black clothing that resembles the outfits of Arabian assassins, with a cloth that covered half of his face. Only his cerulean hues that glowed like two reflector disks under the scrutiny of the moon followed by a small beauty mark under his left eyes was beyond recognition. A small dagger attached to a belt on his hip was all needed for this escapade, he wasn’t in a mission to steal things, just investigate. Maximus stood a solid hundred and eighty-eight centimeters but considering he’s always slouching and lowering his head, nobody seemed to notice when he stood at his full height. A body embellished by muscles, Maximus could pose as a deadly royal knight, again unnoticed due to the loose clothing he’d always worn. Lastly, golden streak of blonde that was gelled up into thin spikes, traces of the former Maximus who had his hair always down was no longer recognized.

 

Venturing the dark alleys of the town, Maximus blended with the dark as he jumped roof to roof, silently creeping at the three to four story structures. One would question his ability to do these skills but Maximus together with his siblings had learn an art of self-defense from their privately hired teachers. The fact that only Maximus tend to take it seriously, having him apply all of it in the slums during the night, made him stronger than the rest of his siblings. He practically applied the rest of his fighting skills to all of his stealing missions. He was highly qualified for a knight position but no one would knew that or else he’d blown his cover.

With those in mind, he’d braced himself as he stared at the rumored four story house. From the looks of it, there’s no one inside judging that there’s no lamp completely lit nor curtains drawn as a sign of someone already in their slumber.

 

Eyebrows raised, Maximus wondered how stupid the person in this house might be as he’d easily enter the unlocked window at the second floor. Maybe it was just an unseen error judging how big this townhouse is for one person. One could simply forgot a window or two, he thought. As soon as he steep foot at the concrete floors, Maximus knew that the rumors were true. There were lots of items highly appraised for their monetary value; some looked bizarre and looked like it has been cursed. The person who live in this place must be a control-freak judging how everything was neatly in place, perfect in their positions. Even the portraits were exaggeratedly symmetrical.

 

He glanced at each of the items with both of his hands jabbed at the pocket of his pants, his feet securely wrapped with thick black bandages slowly tiptoeing at the floor. Prancing at a private property like he was just on a morning visit inside a museum.

 

“That is hideous,”

he eyed a certain clay pot vase who looked straight-out from an Aztec architecture, exaggerating eyes that stared at him menacingly.

 

It took half an hour for Maximus to arrive at the last floor of the structure, strange that the owner of the house was still nowhere in sight at the middle of the night.

 

His eyes sparkled like a child as he saw a pendant that was illuminated by the moon. The eerie blue glow almost strangely matched the unique color of his eyes. This was the item subjected of all the rumors from the town. It looked like a diamond or some orb he’d no idea how to appraise, it was begging to be touched as

Maximus hands tried to reach the object a feet away from him.

 

His hands stopped in midair as the red signals of danger blared in his brain, his gut told him that this whole thing looks downright dangerous. To think that he’d never had to undergo hardships nor traps just to enter this strange house with lots of expensive artifacts clearly screamed danger.

 

“caw caw caw.” His reflexes made him draw the dagger on his hips as he throw it at the offending being who didn’t kept the noise down to a minimum. The huge black crow inside the silver cage was barely alive, its blood spilled at the cold floor. It was Maximus cue to leave the place before his cover was blown.

 

“Sard! That crow was nuts.”

He muttered in relief as the animal slowly slipped from its life, glad it was just an animal and not the owner of the house. Stealing was on his list but killing a human was completely abhorred.

 

Maximus reached for his dagger inside the cage but things didn’t end well the moment his bandaged cover hand grazed the silver cage. He thought there was an earthquake as the cage with a dead bird inside started to shake. It went completely crazy when it hummed and the bars of silver slowly crept up to his arm like a vine. His eyes gone saucers as he watched the cage impossibly summon a lips as it screamed at him with unknown language. A scream that could almost wake up its neighbors.

 

“I’ll be damned, I’m going to kill Adrien for this.”

He angrily muttered followed by a couple of profanities, trying to shake the creepy thing away from his arm.

 

Then another thought passed in his head, maybe, just maybe, he was in a dream were talking cages completely exists.

[Rumpleteaser]

The shining, gleaming object was indeed an orb of great worth. It was a leucosapphire facetted into a sphere rather than the traditional round, oval or cushion cut. It was used as a type of focus that self-defeating habits and behaviours that defeat magical progress. To those who knew what they were looking at, it could be used to enhance a witch or wizard beyond their current limits. David was always striving to go further in his witchcraft, looking for new tutors and ways to better, larger results for the small amount of input he used. As a witch with no well of power, a gem like this meant he didn’t have to use as much life force with greater results. He’d been using it recently, since he’d arrived home from the asylum, and had left it out.

 

Nobody was stupid enough to steal from him, not unless they could combat his spells.

 

The people neighbouring him were terrified of his house, even when he wasn’t around. Outside, windows were slamming shut and curtains drawn closed. There were small children crying and somewhere a dog was barking then whining. They knew what shrieking from David’s apartment meant, or at least suspected it. There were often body bags, men in uniforms and strange carriages with barred back doors outside his townhouse the morning after the shrieking. Nobody wanted to know or bear witness to the night’s events, lest they too be in the firing line.

 

Maximus’s predicament only got worse as the shrieking intensified. It was ear-splitting, it was blood-curdling, it was enough to cause pain. The sound itself was an attack. The lips stretched wider too, until they seemed to come unhinged to reveal a brass uvula and the black chasm of a throat.

 

The metal spokes of the brass birdcage continued to reach up his arm too. They stretched forward and grew until they made it to the crook of his elbow. There, they melded with his flesh and sank into his arm as if they were his very veins or nerves. There was no pain but there was the feeling of cold metal slithering between his muscles. The rest of the bird cage began to shrink as the metal continued to be drawn further up his arm. Soon the dead crow was forced into his palm and the rest of the contents pressed into his fingers. The glass dish shattered and pierced through both hand and crow, cutting deep into both.

 

“I’ll be damned, I’m going to kill Adrien for this.”

 

'Not if I kill you first,' came the disembodied voice of a man.

 

The wooden floorboards began to smooth out and spread into one another until they were as slippery as glass. They melted further, swirling like eddies of water yet thick and greasy like tar. Soon they were no longer the dark tan of wood; they darkened until they were blacker than the ink of a squid. This black, vitreous tar lapped at Maximus’s shoes and began to slither up under his pants. It attached itself to his legs and caught in his leghairs as it went. It crept further and further, slowly at first but increasing with speed. The thick, cold tendrils slithered like little snakes as they clung to his body. Soon the tar was up to his knees, then his thighs. There was no escaping it. The tar was stuck fast and sucked him back into the floor with every movement he made. Like quicksand, every movement drew him deeper and deeper into the floor. He would sink down to his throat if he struggled too much.

 

Meanwhile, the brass contraption continued to scream. It was now just liquid metal, a pair of lips, cracked glass and a dead crow. There was nothing that was at all recognisable of the original cage.

 

‘Do you know how long I’ve been rearing that cursed bloodcrow? I’ve been rinsing and feeding it with blood since the day it was first incubated. Now it is dead. You will pay for that.’

 

One of the top storey windows opened and a large barn owl flew in. It drifted easily over Maximus’s head and landed on a gold-plated perch on the other side of the room. The bird gave a single hoot as if questing what had entered her domain then blinked. She stared at him in fascination, not blinking again for at least several minutes, if at all. Her entire attention was fixed on Maximus and his ordeal. She seemed unperturbed in the slightest, only patient for what was to happen to this one.

 

The window closed and locked itself again, having welcomed the owl indoors. All the other doors and windows clicked open then locked again, as if to make a point. They had been locked naturally, except for the inviting window Maximus had entered, but were now sealed with magic for good measure. David was not letting this one get away easily. There was still the chance but David liked to play with his food before he devoured it.

 

The blinds drew themselves shut and the world around Maximus went dark. It didn’t just go dark; the air was as black as pitch. No light could be seen – not the glint of streetlights, not the tapeta lucida in the owl’s eyes – nothing. Even the owl couldn’t see anything in this arcane blackness. She didn’t say a thing, didn’t even ruffle her feathers. She might as well have been taxidermied for all the sound she made. The only sound was a soft breathing coming from the grate of the fire. The metal floo rattled softly and expanded in the middle as though breathing, not that Maximus would see it but he would start to hear it. The empty fireplace took one deep breath before it added its voice to that of the birdcage.

 

‘ASSASSIN! ASSASSIN! ASSASSIN!’ the fire grate shouted. ‘ASSASSIN! ASSASSIN! ASSASSIN!’

 

To make matters worse, the tar in the floor could not hold the whole of Maximus’s weight. He would sink into the floor if he did not find a way to escape. He would soon be knee deep in it. The tar had a firm grasp on his body too. His legs were fully covered in and out of his clothes and the tendrils had slithered their way up under his shirt. They had started to reach out for his arms, spreading through the air as they groped forward. Once they had a hold, the tar wound and wound and wound around his wrists. The tar melded together to make thick, vitreous cuffs. He could poke and prod all he wanted, perhaps even pull at it but his fingers wound sink through it and the tar would draw back around his wrists.

 

One of the tendrils had found its way between the crack of his rump and a head had formed, complete with glans and slit. It pried up his arse and began to wriggle like a panicked worm as it made its way past that tight ring of muscle. Once in, it continued to wriggle as it adventured deeper inside him. It squirmed and nudged, squirmed and nudged, squirmed and nudged. It then fattened up and scrunched back into itself before squirming and nudging once more. In this fashion, it began to build up speed, making a sucking and squelching noise all the while.

 

Another tentacle crawled its way up the front of his leg then under his jocks to explore the front of his body. It rubbed up against his taint, pressed up between his balls and found itself curling around his cock. This tentacle split into three smaller ones so it could rove further around his groin. Each of the three smaller heads slithered back and forth like premature snakes before finding something to wrap around. One tightened around the base of his cock, the second circled around and around his balls while the third circled around the length. The end of this one grew tendril-like in width as it ventured around Maximus’s shaft, coiling like a spring around his entire cock until it reached the glans. There, it nudged up under the neck and tightened before making its way to the slit. Soon the tip of the tendril was inside Maximus’s cock and venturing deeper. He would feel it wriggling frantically as it tried to force its way inside him.

 

There were so many of these crawling, slithering snakes claiming Maximus’s body at once. It was hard to keep track of all of them. They continued to attack and molest every part of his body until he was completely covered in tar. They did not seem to be doing him any harm but they were intrusive and showed no sign of slowing their steady claim of his body. One of them drew upward and wrapped about his neck, not harming him but constricting enough to make anyone anxious. Once it had wound itself several times around his neck, it continued to slither down his back to connect with the rest of the tar.

 

Soon the cool sensation of the tar began to heat up. The tar bubbled in placed and began to burn. Maximus’s Arabian clothing began to singe and the places the tar was touching him would begin to sting and become painful from the heat. The tar began to produce a foul gas that seemed to glint like diamond vapours compared to the blackness surrounding Maximus. The miasma produced a feral smell of which there was no comparison too. Even if he breathed through his mouth he would only taste black, festering tar. The smell got up in his nose and mouth, and clung to his clothes. It would no doubt cling to his skin even after he washed, marking him as unclean to everyone who came near. The room began to fill with this smell as the tar bubbled and burst around and inside Maximus. It was suffocating!

 

Sound, sight, taste, touch, smell – all his senses were being assaulted by the magic within the room. There was nobody who would dare come for him until morning. Only Adrien knew where Maximus had gone. The people Vertox had watching the house would only show up if they were sure they could prove murder, rape or grievous bodily harm. A little thing like frightening an intruder was not worth their time. That was not a good thing for Maximus, as they would wait until after the damage was done to come to his “aid”.

[gin]

Maximus knew he's in it for a ride that he could remember his entire life the moment the cage conjured a strength to transform into something close to a vine. A metallic vine that slithered to his arms, reaching his shoulders. He could've sworn that his eyes were playing tricks on him but it wasn't, it was as real as the dead crow creepily stuck at his palms taunting him with the death of the not so innocent bird he killed earlier. Mind going awry, he yanked the accursed item from his grasp but it wa impossible, it had a mind on its own.

 

Even he himself couldn’t grasp what was entirely happening to him, in all of its oddities, Maximus was left in the dark. Left with the fact that such magic could happen, nor magic users for that matter. After all, he’s a realist at heart, even a ghost couldn’t faze him not that it exists per se.

 

The windows clattered and the floorboards turned into a matter entirely light years away from the component it was earlier, it was unrealistic---bizarre. It was stupid for Maximus to grow some amazement despite his predicament. Yet it was inevitable, it was like seeing a fireworks display for the first time. A firsthand experience to something which science couldn’t even dare explain—magic.

 

“This is clearly foolish.”

He muttered as he heard a strange voice coming out of nowhere.

 

Who knew what creep is watching him from the dark, finding great entertainment from a wandering thief prison by the insanity held by the house. Had he known that this house was entirely of a different circus of atrocity, then he’ll be damned not enter it even if it’s the last thing he’d do upon living.

 

He should’ve done his research, properly, he mulled despite a certain greasy thing started to slither from the tip of his bandaged toes. With a heavy sigh, long eyelashes fluttered close as if to think things through. Panicking isn’t good in terms of the situation that befall upon him, Maximus needed a concrete plan. His instincts had flared red lights at him, his gut telling him that there’s no escape with these sorcery kind of feel happening at him.

 

To Maximus, it was a situation beyond him, he felt powerless. Powerless was never good, it’s the first ingredient to defeat. He didn’t like that, he needed to regain his control over everything. That’s what he hated the most, that’s maybe the reason he’d went to a thieving occupation. He wanted control over his goddamn life not the life he’s supposed to live by the order of his parents. It was a childish rebellion but he needed something, a breather, from the melancholic and repetitive life of his. Unfortunately, this breather happened to be the cause of his impending doom as he stared at the tar that was knee deep fully unaware of the thoughts lurking inside his head.

 

He stilled knowing that the tar would just submerged him deeper the more struggle he’d impose. It was smarter to delay the inevitable, Maximus thought. He stared at the flying owl who then perched to a golden metal.

 

‘Do you know how long I’ve been rearing that cursed bloodcrow? I’ve been rinsing and feeding it with blood since the day it was first incubated. Now it is dead. You will pay for that.’

 

“Who are you?”

He said calmly as the windows shut and clicked on its own, relaying to him that escaping is no excuse for his predicament.

 

It was not good to anger the person who’d held him captive in that bizarre magic house. He closed his eyes entirely as he’d saw the blinds drawn all together, the darkness upon closing and opening his eyes doesn’t even matter anymore. Maybe it was an illusion, he surmised, though he felt that it was too real to be one.

 

It was crazy, the noise, the pressure from the tar, the menacing glint of the owl; it was taunting him to give in to all this madness. As if egging him to do so, the windows shut entirely including all of the visible lighting from the space giving his eyesight nil from light. Darkness completely curtained him like a curse that was begging to devour. There was no relief from the darkness, all he can do was rely to his sense of touch.

 

The game of anticipation ended the moment the tar climbed towards his arms like an angered snake. Before the tar would totally render him immobile, his fast reflexes kicked in as he placed his fingers atop his mouth, whistling as loud as he could. It might took minutes for the messenger to arrive, a call for emergency in case something inauspicious would happen to him. He tried wrenching the tar from his skin but his fingers just passed through it, a thick solvent of a slime.

 

“This is not good.”

He muttered as his chest thudded in panic as the slime had started to worm its was in his sphincter.

 

Maximus tried to hold it close but it was no use fighting in a defeated battle, the tar gradually filled him inside as he felt uncomfortable the moment it expanded. The squelching sounds made his brows knit in anger, who in their right mind would do such things. Sure he’d probably chosen to be whipped but not in his wildest dreams would he be punished like this. The young lord was no virgin in terms of nightly activities with maidens, but his back side says otherwise.

 

A tint of pink landed on his cheeks as he eyed the malicious tar, it slowly wrapped around the base of his half-hard member. The supposed to be sexual assault couldn’t lift his member to enthusiasm, it was downright disturbing for a man who preferred his member to enter another tight hole, not the other way around.

 

Maximus struggled again as he saw the slim vine-like tar creeping at his member’s slit. –No no no no, he thought in panic as the tiny thing crept inside his abused member, wriggling to the bottom of it. The pain was excruciating, he’d tried to wretch his body free, to escape from the pain but it seemed the tar had a plan on its own as it wrapped at his throat, his Adam’s apple having a hard time swallowing saliva.

 

“S---stop.”

Even breathing was a task, his mind had gone haywire, and all sensations had assaulted him.

 

Pain and pleasure dancing in a two-way tango. Before he could lose his focus he heard a light tap from the window. His mind was in a world of pain that it couldn't even process the bubbling hotness of the tar nor its stench. All Maximus wanted was release of his assaulted member, that pain was agonizing that he preferred dead than receive such a power-play between pleasure and pain, mostly pain.

 

Another surge of hope coursed through him as he clicked his tongue louder. The eagle on the other side of the window heard its master’s orders, the only order where the animal would fly towards Adrien. That was only its purpose, in case something bad might happen to Maximus.

 

The bird flew away as it glided through the air, bringing with it the dreaded sign that his master was in danger. It might took awhile, Maximus thought, but at least Adrien knows that something bad had happen to him. It was the first time he'd summon the dreaded bird, he really hoped Adrien would come, the sooner the better.

 

He hoped his friend might have arrive sooner before he's not around the living anymore.

[Rumpleteaser]

David was still nowhere to be seen. In fact, he wasn’t even in the room. He was locked in the basement level of the four-storey townhouse. The warlock was sitting cross-legged, watching (or rather sensing) the scene unfold through the eyes of his beloved night time familiar, Harriet. She was listening to everything that was happening, her mind passive while David took over. Harriet, Dimitri and David had a special three-way familiar connection, thus able to slip into and even control one another’s minds. If the owl chose to, she could very well use that same connection to invade her master’s mind and take control. David was good to her, and indeed all animals, so she never had any qualms about the connection they shared.

 

“This is clearly foolish.”

 

The owl hooted in agreement.

 

‘It’s good you see that. I was beginning to question your sanity,’ the voice replied. There was a clear condescension there and no small amount of amusement. ‘What could have possessed you to break into my home?’

 

The person keeping Maximus captive had no concern about whether he would escape. The only reason he was really remaining hidden from view was to keep Maximus guessing. One only feared the creatures under the bed when darkness came. Lord Vertox’s son knew well how darkness and sightlessness played on one’s fears. He had spent years of his life walking hand in hand with fear and had long since befriended it.

 

“Who are you?” Maximus asked calmly.

 

‘I don’t think you’re in any position to ask questions. You really should have asked those questions before you took this job,’ David mused in that same amused, condescending tone. ‘Now you’re going to answer my questions or I will take them from you. First question, do you believe me when I say I can extract the information from your head and leave you as witless as a country bumpkin?’

 

It was slight at first, a mere brushing sensation against Maximus’s mind. Every mind had its own natural defences to varying degrees. Some people had stronger wills, stronger barriers or were better practiced at shielding themselves. David was currently testing out Maximus’s mindshield. He rubbed his spell against it, nuzzled it and nudged it like the touch of a lover’s lips. He pressed harder, probing the mindshield’s reflexes to see whether Maximus would tense up or even heighten his barrier. Perhaps even bubbles of thought would leak out for him to glimpse at. David did not yet know. This was an unknown mind and he was not about to venture into it without a few tests.

 

‘Second question, who are you and who sent you?’ the voice demanded.

 

The probe made a sharp stab, piercing into the shield without actually entering the mind. There would be a heated, screaming pain that faded to a thudding ache. It was as if Maximus had been stabbed in the temple, without actually causing any injury or loss of blood. It was all in his mind. The mind could be damaged easily if David chose to but for now he preferred obedience. If Maximus had any wisdom in him, he would take the hint and give the witch what he wanted.

 

Chuckling would fill Maximus’s thoughts, as though he truly were imagining it, as opposed to the voices he was hearing. There was a presence at the edge of Maximus’s thoughts, something the trapped male would feel as foreign. It was a calculating being with the threat of madness threatening to overpower it. David had a powerful mind, fully trained and honed like a battleaxe. He was not the type to take threats likely, Maximus would learn this, and currently it viewed the man as a threat. All defences were up and attacks ready to use. One false move and David would bombard through Maximus’s mindshield and rip through it like a tornado.

 

‘You’re enjoying this, you little slut,’ the voice purred. ‘You say stop but I’ve brought you to a semi without laying a finger on you.’

 

The thick tentacle up the intruder’s arse spurt out a slippery liquid as it pulled back. More and more spurted out as the tar began to fuck in and out of his rump. The liquid bubbled into foam as the tentacle continued to slosh inside, which leaked out and filled Maximus’s undergarments. Soon everything was wet with stingingly hot slime and foam. Ever more of the stuff filled and filled Maximus, not only lubricating his arse but drooling down between his legs and soaking into his clothing.

 

‘What is your purpose here? Are you a thief, assassin, spy?’ he asked. ‘You have some skill at your occupation, I’ll give you that. You were not so foolish as to touch everything you see, though I see no cotton gloves to keep you from leaving prints. I could have the police search the window for prints but I’d rather keep you for myself.’

 

Maximus was now up to his waist in the floor and sinking ever deeper. The birdcage was still shrieking and the fire grate was still screaming “ASSASSIN”. The gas was getting thicker too, now becoming a heavy fog that overpowered the air in the room. Soon the thief would have trouble breathing, for there was less and less oxygen to breath in as the tar burnt it out. His clothes sizzled against his skin, leaving him with nothing but the strongest threads. The tar continued to bubble against his skin and leave burns upon his flesh.

 

The owl hooted and ruffled her feathers. Her eyes trained on the window, though there was no light to see by. She caught what her master was too intrigued to notice: the eagle at the window. Thanks to her, David was able to recognise the clicking.

 

‘That was a stupid idea,’ the voice hissed in irritation.

 

It all happened within seconds. The burning, bubbling tar immediately reacted. It shrunk around the thief’s body and twisted his arms down behind his back. His legs were spread wide while the tentacle pierced deep into his stretched anus. It kept leaking as it forced itself through his sigmoid and descending colon. The entire was writhing and shaking all the way through him, threatening to bruise him from the inside. The tar around his throat yanked him forward and constricted around his throat until the flesh began to bruise. Indeed, much of his body was now being crushed by the tar. The bones of his feet were becoming disjointed, his cock was about to burst from squeezing and he would loose bloodflow down his legs.

 

All the screaming and other sounds stopped. There was an intense, burning light that blinded the eyes and left the skin feeling sunburnt. Maximus had to get away from the light before his skin would dry out, burn and peel. Alas, there was no chance of getting away with the tar crushing him inside and out from the neck down. Soon he’d even lose the air from his lungs and even crack a few ribs if the pressure kept increasing.

 

‘Who knows you are here? What family do you have? Who will note your absence? How long will it take them to follow your trail?’ David demanded.

 

Luckily, the light soon faded and Maximus’s eyes would eventually adjust to the warm glow of candlelight. He was no longer in the house, however. He was in a circular room carved deep within the earth. All along the walls were sexual toys, whips, various types of rope, brands, locked boxes, masks, black outfits and various glass jars with strange mixtures in them. Some of the jars had little creatures with large, glowing eyes. The creatures curled around and around on themselves as though in constant fear of what they would be used for.

 

There were several items of furniture too, all immaculately clean for such macabre implements of torture. In the centre of the room there was a heavy, metal table that looked like something a surgeon or a butcher would use to chop up a body. There was a wooden vaulting horse underneath ropes that dangled from the rafters. All along the rafters were metal hooks, loops and chains that could be used to suspend someone. There was also a rack with metal chains that was obviously for stretching a person out. One frame had some lovely silk ropes hanging from metal loops and a vicious metal hook dangling from the top. Another was shaped like a large X and had detachable metal skewers that could be nailed into place. A

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was built for someone to sit on with their legs spread. That was only to name a few.

 

The freedom to see didn’t last long until the person behind the thief pulled a black, leather gimp mask over his face. The eyes were completely covered with a detachable blindfold and there was a zipper over the mouth, which was currently left open. Another zipper up the back of the mask was quickly closed, encasing Maximus’s head in darkness.

 

‘This place is deep beneath the ground, too far underground for other witches to detect it. Someone might charge me with kidnapping and lock me up but you’d be stuck here with no food, no water and nowhere to shit. Nobody would come for you and you’d suffer through a slow death,’ the witch explained. ‘So think very carefully before you try anything. I am the only one who knows where you are. I am your only way out.’

[gin]

Seething in pain, Maximus tried to shake his arms as the tar forcibly yanked it behind him, securing it to immobility. The anger that was visible by his knitted brows was a stark contrast to the flush of humiliation at his cheeks, indignation shown in his cerulean hues. He felt like he was on fire as the tar that seeped inside him squelched and pushed further inside him, assaulting his insides in an uncomfortable yet sensual manner. The young lord wanted to pass out badly but the tar that was wildly worming its way inside Maximus was painful enough to stay conscious, for him to watch as how powerless he can be while being raped by an unsuspecting tar.

 

“No one sent me.”

He seethed watching the tar gnawing at his flesh, succumbing into a hot series of torture. Left his real identity in the dark wishing that the captor did know nothing of his roots. He wasn't even recognizable and only Adrien knew what he really looks like behind those thick glasses.

 

“Hnggh”

he twisted his body as the tar slowly build its pace and impaled his back vehemently. He was torn between indignity and gratification. His body enjoyed it, judging the hard member soaring proudly but his mind was on a sequence of vexation.

 

He felt his knees weakened like a newborn calf on its first walk, bead-like sweat adorned his sharp jaws, eyes delirious and losing focus. Maximus couldn’t even distinguish what was reality anymore. He was in a world of pain, then in an instant an entire universe of pleasure. He bit his lips as blood trickled down to his chin; unfortunately it didn’t alleviate the pain.

 

He could almost choke from his own saliva as the tar squished his neck with no mercy, the smoke-filled room finding no leeway for breathing oxygen. Death himself was chasing him, he really wanted the tar to just go away and leave his member alone.

 

----calm down, Maximus. Calm down, he’s just messing with you.

The young lord chanted as he felt a hot searing pain stab his temporal, as if someone had shot an arrow to his head. He tilted his head to shoo the pain but it just worsened, like someone wanted to pry it open.

 

The pain tolerance of the lord was clearly hitting the charts as he kept his mouth shut, not once he pleaded to the outlandish owl that he didn’t dared question its ability to speak. There was even a time in his life where he was captured by a corrupt count from the borderlands, ordered his sevants to whip him day and night. He’d suffered more when it comes to his profession but the thing he’d experience this day was just like walking into a thin thread inbetween two cliffs----impossible.

 

His eyes glaring daggers at the owl, maybe it’s the owner of the house transformed into an animal. It was a peculiar hypothesis but it’s what helps his sanity intact.

 

A light suddenly assaulted his senses, closing his eyes shut, the tar pressing him like impenetrable boulders trying to flatten him up. Maximus thought that maybe it was the end, a foolish end where he didn’t even know who was his tormentor, the sadist who’d turned his normal thieving life into insanity.

 

‘Who knows you are here? What family do you have? Who will note your absence? How long will it take them to follow your trail?’

 

None. The word echoed inside Maximus head harshly. Sure Adrien would search high and low for him but he didn’t know when his close friend will surrender. He'd rather not let his friend capture by this madman and share the same torture with him. Seymour household would search him for a month and just declare him lost, much to the joy of his younger siblings. A death of an older one is a great advantage in terms of inheriting wealth and power. Maximus was not distraught by his family, it was a given but he didn’t like giving up. Surrendering was the last thing he’d do, especially to some voodooist he had no intention meeting with. It was just a mission for him to observe the perimeter, he didn't even start stealing the owner's possessions.

 

He was a persistent man, his eyes opening as the plethora of light died down. Maximus Seymour does not give up, he’ll find a way of escape----by hook or by crook.

 

His head staring at the entirety of the room, clearly confused at the huge changes. A talking cage and then the sudden teleportation; nothing could faze him at this moment, Maximus thought. The room was visibly out of the norm, his eyes surveyed the entirety of it like a kid on sugar rush. He had known the rest of the sexual contraptions and toys but the rest were foreign to him. His eyes landed at those odd jars that contained unknown species. A chill ran down his spine as he saw a full jar of centipede, he hated those insects.

 

He immediately noticed someone standing behind him but he was restricted by the tar, despite fast reflexes, he just couldn't evade the mask that descended towards him.

 

"Why don’t you show yourself? Only a coward would perform theatrics like this,”

Fists clenched, his eyes stayed open behind the thick mask that nullified his sight.

 

If this guy was great enough to do something out of this world, then he’d probably no fear of showing himself to a man who was left with no choice but wait to his own demise. Little did the warlock know, that Maximus was just finding an opening so he can dash away from this room, away from that strange being that held him captive on God knows where?

 

‘This place is deep beneath the ground, too far underground for other witches to detect it. Someone might charge me with kidnapping and lock me up but you’d be stuck here with no food, no water and nowhere to shit. Nobody would come for you and you’d suffer through a slow death. So think very carefully before you try anything. I am the only one who knows where you are. I am your only way out.’

 

"Witches huh? Only six years old believe that shite. Might just as well insult you , I am a already a deadman anyways,"

looking quite uncomfortable behind the mask.

 

Golden strands of hair sticking at his face, it was hot inside the mask, he couldn't even start with the odd scent of leather it was emitting. When the tar would be removed from him, he'd rather not see a mirror, he'll just look straight out of a coffin.

[Rumpleteaser]

‘If nobody sent you then why are you here?’ David asked. The man was not here by chance and the witch was determined to find out why before he was finished with the little rat. He jabbed at the mindshield again before raking along it until the barrier started to leak and buckle. It would feel as if Maximus has been slashed to the skull with a blunted knife, ripping though the edge of his mind rather than slicing it. How long would it take until thoughts began to leak out from the wound?

 

‘Keep in mind that I /will/ invade you and take what information I want from it. You would keep more of your privacy by answering my questions,’ he said. The witch would give no more warning. The invader had already avoided his questions once. He would not be allowed a second time.

 

‘Who are you and what is your purpose here?’ he demanded, forcing himself on the wound he’d already made on Maximus’s mindshield. He forced himself inside it and pried at the edges with his probe. It was no gentle brushing about this time. He was figuratively sticking his thumb in an open wound.

 

This time the witch caught the thought bubble as it echoed to the outer edge of Maximus’s mind: NONE. David was practically purring with content at knowing that. He pulled back from the edge of the mind-wound and just brushed back and forth along its length. It would no doubt cause Maximus a great amount of internal pain, added to what he was already experiencing, as if he was suffering from an intense migraine in only one part of his head. It was the same piercing and pulsating pain that beat at his mind as before but now it was somewhere else as well and more intense.

 

‘If nobody knows you’re here, where was that bird going?’ he asked. He was not done with his questions yet. He was going to enjoy extracting them too. Now which of the jars should he open first? There were eels, giant insects, rodents and things with far too many legs to be called natural.

 

‘It is not out of fear or cowardice that I take your sight from you. I will show myself when I am ready,’ the witch replied in an amused tone. He looked over to the jars and selected something that looked like a foot long wood grub. ‘This is all for you. You have intruded upon my abode so I am within my right to do with you what I want. Aren’t you enjoying yourself?’

 

The warlock smiled. At the wave of his hand the tar around the man’s cock pulled back so that only the tendril inside the urethra remained. David flicked the tip with his finger then wrapped his hand around the head, pulling it down slowly before sliding back up and over. Despite what the intruder said, he was enjoying it.

 

He walked over to the wall and picked up the jar he’d selected with his mind. He placed his hand atop it and muttered a small enchantment over the creature. It immediately began to thrash and squirm in the jar, making a high pitch squealing noise and squirting the fluids from its body. All of the specimens were at varying degrees of stasis and now this one had been brought back to life.

 

‘Have you ever tasted a witchetty grub? You’re about to be delighted with a most disgusting experience, should you fail my questions once more,’ the witch said in a cool, smooth tone. He was going to enjoy the next part.

 

‘Ha! Do you think I am that easy to goad? Not to worry, you will be punished for your attempted insults,’ he purred as he carried the enlarged grub over. ‘Tell me, if you don’t think these are the doing of a witch, what is happening to you right now?’

 

With one hand under the jar, David smoothed his hand up the invader’s chest, along his neck and gripped tight at the throat. A soft rumble escaped him as he enjoyed his prey. The man was a little on the scrawny side but there was enough muscle there to show he knew how to use his body.

 

‘Who are you? Who told you about this place? What are you doing here?’ the man purred. His grip tightened on the man’s throat before he withdrew his hand. The jar squeaked as it was unstoppered and the liquid began to splash at the edges from the enlarged creature’s thrashing. ‘If you’re not ready to talk, I’ll just have to force this down your throat. You can’t see it but you will most definitely feel as it crawls down your oesophagus.’

[gin]

Maximus could certainly laugh at his own foolish predicament. Had he not enter the house then he'd be robbing a rich Count's mansion by now. All he'd experience inside the establishment was pain, different kinds of pain which he couldn't experience in a lifetime.

 

The young lord was humiliated beyond measure, violated in many which he's not so fondly happy to elaborate. A talking vase, a moving wine and then another moment witches? Surely Maximus would've thought that he'd inhaled or eaten some dainty herb out there to cause all the paranoia he'd experienced. The noble had a hard time accepting the fact that everything that happened to him was real and not just a fraction of his imagination. Unfortunately for him, the pain was a dead giveaway, no dream can inflict pain as excruciating as what he'd experienced.

 

Despite all of the predicament, Maximus tried to calm his nerves as he thought of something that could help him escape the grasp of the dangerous man. Judging from the latter's voice, the owner of the house seemed to be painfully authoritative and prideful. He'd almost considered him a noble but disregard the idea almost immediately since it was ridiculous that Noble witches exist.

 

Or witches 'even' exist for that matter.

 

"Look Sir, to be honest---"

Cold sweat trailing at his temples as his member was still held captive from any release he so badly needed. It was infuriating to feel pleasure beyond the torture but he couldn't just command his member to lay still, unfortunately, it had a mind of its own.

 

"I told you no one sent me ----here. I was just a measly thief foolish enough to enter the abodes of some powerful 'witch'."

Clenching his teeth as he felt his head splitting into two. It would be a joke to call it a headache, it felt like his cranial skull was grated like a cheese.

 

Maximus wished he could just passed out and then wake up to find that he was just dreaming. Sad enough, his wishes don't even came true, even the wishes that his siblings could just go bald and stop acting like some spoiled brats.

 

"Have you ever tasted a witchetty grub? You’re about to be delighted with a most disgusting experience, should you fail my questions once more,"

 

Maimus started to escape the binds as he heard screeching sounds reverberating the huge room.

"You certainly seem unwell if you're going to do what I'm thinking you're about to do, Sire."

The idea of release clouding his head and his thoughts into haywire, the witch better had enough. He haven't stolen anything yet, the noble protested.

 

Maximus was then reminded, once he'd escaped, not to mess with witches or whatever they were. The noble wanted to plead badly for his release but his pride just wouldn't budge just as much as the restraints the bind him. If the warlock's about to shove the nasty creature inside his mouth, then he'd have to resort biting his tongue. Hopefully if could kill him rather than experience all the humiliation that would definitely break him.

 

True, Maximus Seymour was a tough noble but every tough person tends to break under pressure since everyone had its limits. Despite accepting the fact that he'd no control over the situation, he couldn't just surrender everything to the stranger in front of him.

 

"If nobody knows you’re here, where was that bird going?"

 

"Between the two of us you're the witch, figure that yourself,"

He rebuked weakly, the fight still not escaping from him. Consequences be damned, he's going to put up a good fight despite the state he was in. He was daringly talkative when pressured, not that he noticed.

 

His knees buckled at the strain as his eyelids pried open behind the blindfold, the young lord had started to run out of ideas. The bird was Maximus only hope away from the hellhole.

[Rumpleteaser]

‘My, my, my. You are enjoying yourself,’ the warlock said in an amused tone as he noticed the thief’s predicament. Without even a wave of his hand the rest of the black tar shrank back from the thief’s cock. David took it in his hand and gripped tight around the head. He pulled the skin back and traced one rough thumb over the slit. He dug his nail in and wriggled it around, watching the hardened member with almost childish amusement. How he loved tormenting his toys.

 

‘Is this even an interrogation for you?’ he asked. He brought his hand up and licked his thumb, tasting the lubricants from the vines before putting his hand back down. He rolled the head around in his hand then moved in closer. With the seething vines holding the thief up, David had to look up to inspect the man’s neck and chest. It was too bad he couldn’t look at the man’s face and into his eyes with that gimp mask on but David wasn’t going to take that off until later.

 

‘Very well, I believe you. So what was it that caught your attention? Did someone tell you about my artefacts?’ he asked, still stroking the man’s cock. His question was punctuated by a cruel thrust of the tentacles up the intruder’s arse that would have split him if he were not so well lubricated.

 

‘Unwell? I don’t like what you’re implying,’ he said in an even tone. Somehow that tone was even more threatening than if he’d yelled. It was sharp and leering, bordering on insanity. ‘You’re the one who was crazy enough to break into a house without scoping it out. Sloppy work, thief. You deserve this.’

 

David gripped Maximus’s jaw through the gimp mask and pulled it down. His nails would have been biting in if not for the protection the mask offered. The squirming thing in his hand was slipped head-first into the thief’s mouth and nudged in until it began to crawl on its own. It tried to burrow in deeper into the intruder’s mouth, leaving the taste of the fluid it had been kept in. It tasted almost smoky and chemical at the same time, with an aftertaste like blood. The creature wriggled deeper and deeper until the entire thing was inside the man's throat. Would the thief swallow it or regurgitate it back up?

 

‘You’re right. I will figure this out,’ he purred in an amused tone. After that, from inside Maximus’s head came the words You really shouldn’t have tempted me like that. You’ve practically invited me in.

 

David’s probe ploughed through the damage he’d already done to Maximus’s mind. David showed no mercy, like trying to break a virgin. Maximus’s mind shield shattered like glass. Whether Maximus fainted or not would depend entirely on how much damage David truly did to the shield. It could be that Maximus shrieked in pain, he could have bled from the ears and nose or he could have suffered convulsions. Perhaps the damage would be permanent, causing chronic migraines or even insanity. Though insanity was unlikely, it was certain to have some after effects. David didn’t care. This was punishment for Maximus refusing to answer his questions. After all, hadn’t the intruder said “figure that yourself”? This was David’s way of figuring out.

 

The probe went deeper. It swam through Maximus’s thoughts and memories in search of what David wanted to know. He wanted to know what had caused Maximus to come to this particular house. He wanted to know who else knew the thief was here and he wanted to know who that bird was notifying. All this David read from Maximus’s mind as if he were simply flicking through photographs. When he found what he wanted, he brought the thoughts of the bird to the forefront of Maximus’s mind so he was forced to play it.

 

Maximus, isn’t it? That bird is going to your friend Adrien. Perhaps I should lay a trap for him and have you two fuck each other senseless, came a voice inside Maximus’s head.

 

After that, David pulled the probe out to inspect the damage. Maximus was already a mess from what the tar had done to him. It was possible David had gone too far and broken his toy already when he’d crashed through Maximus’s mind. Still, he didn’t regret it. He would just have to wait and prepare while Maximus recovered. He couldn't see Maximus's eyes to see if the pupils were dilated or if his eyes were bleeding but he could test the man's responses.