Vol.1 Chapter 6 – Preparations For Production
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"Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world."

Nelson Mandela

 

"Our beloved mistress was asked what education was good for. She answered, "For everything!"

Sister Eva, indoctrinational class at the academy

 

I had many and complex problems to solve to achieve my goals. One of the most tedious of these problems would be education. In order for the craftsmen to be able to understand and implement my technical plans, they had to be able to read them. It was imperative for me that the lower class learn to read.

 

One of the first buildings, besides the production and factory halls, my spa area and accommodations, would be a school. The bottom line was that I needed many schools that taught as many people as possible to read. Arithmetic and writing were not as important as reading. Reading was essential. By the time I mechanized the printing press, at least half the people had to be able to read. Currently, only the nobility, merchants, alchemists and mages could read. Maybe 5 - 10 % of the population. And not my target group. The more the better.

 

There were three groups I would start with. The craft guild, the whore guild, and then the orphans. The craftsmen would be the most difficult, these stubborn people were always a bit unruly and resisted change. The whores would soon be swimming in money and might even be very interested in investing in their future as well.

 

There was another group. This one would not show the slightest resistance. My slave girls had no choice. Being allowed to attend school would be relaxing for them. Unlike when they had to attend a session in MY classroom. Especially in detention.

 

Like everything else in the world, including this one, making things is as complex as you like. Depending on how much, how fast or how well. Furthermore, sometimes preconditions must be met. For example, if you want to build a multi-story house quickly, you can use cement. For cement you need a kiln and a stone mill. To achieve a sufficiently high temperature of the kiln, a blower is needed. For the blower and the stone mill you need something that can propel both. Like for example a steam engine.

 

What is a steam engine? "Let's play dumb. And we say: A steam engine is a big black room with a hole in the back and in the front. One hole is the firing system. And the other hole, we'll get that later."

 

Of course, I could have done a lot of things with magic. Yes, I could have made cement directly by alchemy. But that would have been problematic for me in several aspects. It was much better if I would introduce new "methods". And kept certain details to myself. The basic principle everyone could have and pay for. But improvements like reinforced concrete? Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.

 

Or not until later. Then it could hurt like hell. The others, then.

 

The fact is, I was sure that I could either do everything with magic or spice up my production methods with magic so that efficiency would go sky-high. In the same way, I gave the other children a few crumbs of the cake, but kept the lion's share for myself.

 

What? I don't like to share.

 

What I was achieving, however, was their dependence on me. With the right choice of machines and the appropriate "gaps" of know-how, my "miracles" would be replicable but difficult to develop further. Instead of me, everyone else would be stuck in a dead end - at least until they had worked out all the basics.

 

The steam engine was relatively easy to implement. A sufficiently solid, sealable boiler with water to boil in it could be made by several blacksmiths. Safety valves could be made by the watchmakers and the brass smiths after I had explained the principle. The piston also came from the brass smiths. What was difficult was the shaft and the flywheel. These parts of the steam engine required a certain precision and quality. If the shaft and the flywheel do not run smoothly, the machine disassembles itself. But in principle, this was no different than a simple machine according to Watt.

 

With the rotation I had gained from the steam, I could drive the rock mill. The principle of the mill was already known, only instead of flour just limestone, clay and sand had to be ground. Just a bit bigger and harder.

 

The kiln is nothing more than a long iron tube in which the material is burned and rotates.

 

The blower required only a sufficiently fixed and rotating rotor in a tight housing. A lot of air is sucked in through the inlet and blown into the kiln to bring the burning fire to the necessary 1400 degrees Celsius.

 

After sintering, the cement clinker falls to the bottom and only needs to be pulverized again.

And there you have it, the most important modern building material since the ancient Romans.

 

  1. steam engine.
  2. stone mill.
  3. kiln.
  4. fermentation vat.
  5. distillery.
  6. melting furnace.
  7. steam turbine.
  8. generator.

 

In this order I had planned my "industrial revolution" for Mitoran and Maronde.

 

The smelting furnace, the steam turbine and the generator would have to wait until the factory halls had been built with concrete. The rest of the machinery and boilers could be quietly housed in wooden barracks as a first step. I just couldn't bring the kiln too close to the wood.

I had no intention of burning down my own buildings. Even if I only needed them to make the real factory halls possible.

 

What I didn't expect was the reaction of the carpenters. Connecting a saw blade to the drive shaft of the steam engine is really not that overwhelming. Not so for the carpenters. When I demonstrated how the saw works a lot of people suddenly wanted steam engines. The carpenters look at me like I'm a prophet or something. Crazy. At least I got all the casing boards I could want.

 

The spectacle as the floor slabs were poured for the factory buildings and the other buildings were worth every minute of explaining.The masons or better house builders were not stupid.  Just hard to convince at the beginning. Whereas some tools were already enthusiastically received after the first demonstration. Who would have thought that a simple spirit level would cause such a stir.

 

Difficulties were caused by the amount of concrete that the larger paving areas needed to be ready in time. At modern construction sites, there were large concrete trucks that delivered the ready-mixed concrete. It would be possible to build a concrete mixer on wheels but that would have opened up a whole bucket of worms that I didn't want to open.I made do with several smaller vats in which the concrete was mixed manually and then dumped into a larger tub.  By means of halved and hollowed out tree trunks, the still liquid mass was poured onto the future floors.

 

Over several days, I had foundation after foundation laid. After the first base was dry and resilient, Charl and all the construction workers were allowed to jump around on it to their heart's content. For the more destructive tests, I had a few pieces of concrete dumped into the landscape for testing, which could then be pounded with hammers or pikes.

 

For the walls I could not completely avoid the use of iron. To prevent the walls from collapsing when I poured them, I concreted several iron rods into the ground. The anchors would hold the concrete wall until it had hardened. When I casually mentioned that the walls could be made ahead of time and then set up already hard, many eyes grew wide. And sad when I added that unfortunately there were no strong enough cranes for this method.

 

Unlike the halls, the smaller buildings were all built with four stories and had concrete ceilings. This was not a great improvement on the conventional construction method with wood, clay and stones, but it was still well within the tolerance range for the load-bearing capacity of the concrete.

 

Unfortunately, I had to tell some interested visitors that my concrete is not immune to bombardment with cannons or even magic. Who would use cannons and magic against civilian buildings?

My gosh, why should it be interesting if a building material is resistant to weapons and magic? Never not ever, no my concrete would not do something like that!

As if there were any important reason to build a heavily fortified position that cannot run away. Not a single reason worth mentioning.

 

No one has the intention to build a fortress.

 

Meanwhile, my fermenting vats bubbled away happily, digesting their respective contents. Potatoes. Grains. Fruit. Whatever I could find at the market. Add yeast and wait.

Until the fermentation was ready and the distillation could start.

 

C2H6O or also C2H5OH. Ethanol. Concentrated. Something for every taste. Liquid gold.

 

After the drinking test, the brewers knew that if they didn't jump on my train, they would go down without a sound. They had no choice but to buy and use my method. Otherwise, I would simply take over the market. Each of them listened very carefully as I described what alcohols were made. Why methanol is a bad idea to drink. How to separate methanol and ethanol. And what role the right temperature plays.

 

The brewers didn't realize how I was ripping them off when they "persuaded" me to make only a limited amount of my spirits so as not to overwhelm the market or put other brewers out of business. All would pay the fees for my patent. And from each liter I would get my cut. Without lifting a finger.

 

If I weren't the beneficiary, I'd feel outright repulsed by myself. Almost.

 

I still had to reinforce the concrete foundations in strategic places in the night when there were no prying eyes. A few of my machines would otherwise cause cracks due to the weight. A lady has her secrets, you know.

 

In addition to the limestone, clay and sand for the cement, I slowly received the quartz sand and the natrite as the raw material for soda ash. With that, I had everything needed to make glass. For mirrors I would switch to silver. Tin and mercury were also possible, but mercury was hard to come by. And aluminum I would have to produce myself.

 

For the beginning I had planned to use a pot furnace as a melting kiln for the glass. To build a bath furnace for larger quantities in a few months was already planned. But not yet necessary.

 

My biggest concern was the purity of the quartz sand. A little too much iron and you don't get clear transparent glass. For bottles or jars, green, brown or colored glass was readily usable. For windows or especially mirrors, it wasn't a long-term option.

Initially, my glass would be a novelty, no matter what color. In the medium term, however, I needed to make white glass.

I was somewhat undecided whether to solve the problem by mixing and selecting the best raw material, or whether I would have to "alchemically" help it along. A conversation with the alchemy guild seemed necessary. There were still a few open points to clarify anyway. Mariette was eager to organize everything for me. If she continued like this, my "rewards" for her services would drive her endurance to new heights.

 

Whereas the endurance of all my girls did not correspond to what I liked. I should introduce physical education in general and for all. And I should talk to Cebille about sports bras. Some would definitely not do without. As good as bouncing tits looked, worn out udders looked awful. No way would I allow that on my slave girls.

 

Glass I decided to first get the basic process under control and then gradually improve it. For the time being, I could blame the poor quality of the raw material for the imperfect results. Maybe Gina could show me the right way.

Until then, I would be content with a few glass melts to try out. And glass was just another means to an end. It was rare here and easy for me to make. And the military value was low if you left aside binoculars.

 

The situation was somewhat different with asphalt. Well built paths and roads not only accelerated the transport of goods and thus stimulated trade immensely. Another military use was the rapid movement of troops, equipment and provisions. Defending a country became considerably easier with good roads. Especially once I would convey communications. When a message no longer travels by courier but through the air by signal, it means an extreme time saving.

Providing rapid information about enemy actions and moving troops quickly is always important from a military point of view.

 

Why am I so reserved on the one hand and so relaxed on the other? Well, everything has its advantages. And its weaknesses.

 

Once the enemy is in the country, he can use the roads just as much to his advantage.

And as long as I have my fingers in the communications line, I can read every message. Moreover, I can even sell Enigma encryption machines. So that not everyone can read the plaintext. To crack the key is not possible without deep math knowledge. Therefore here - not at all. Do you have a computer with you, like I do, with the right little piece of software? A few mouse clicks are enough.

 

But first would be the paved road. Charl already had the order to prepare the road between my factory and my property in the city. Ideal for advertising purposes. Mort and the merchants will rotate as soon as the first carriages and transport wagons glide over it.

I was really looking forward to the next meeting at the trade guild. There were a few points I wanted to propose and decide on before laying asphalt throughout the kingdom. In the Duchy of Halond, I did not need permission. As soon as Virga had learned to obey me, I would install her as duchess.

 

My evening visits together with Mariette and Alice over the last few days already showed remarkable changes in her behavior. There was even a somewhat strange phenomenon related to the slave collars that I noticed. Somehow I had the impression that her nature changed as well. Similar to brainwashing. Without magic, training and behavior in a dom-sub relationship is based on learning and it takes time. What I had seen here so far in terms of slavery was limited to relatively simple commands as:

 

Clean the house.

Go shopping at the market and come back.

Sleep in your cell.

Go wash yourself.

 

But what also worked, although it didn't seem to occur to anyone, was:

 

Always be honest.

Be loyal.

You like it when your mistress dominates you during sex.

You love to beg me.

 

Quasi a slave's own attitude could be changed by command. I noticed this first on Virga. But I could also observe the same thing in the 16 other slave girls. I suspected that the change was possible not only while wearing the collar but also beyond.

 

It was definitely a puzzle I wanted to solve.

 

What I had not made any progress with was finding protection for myself from enslavement. My search was not necessarily made easier by the fact that I could not ask anyone directly. It seemed to me a bad idea that would give the wrong people dangerous ideas.

 

Another visit to various slave traders was on the agenda anyway. I wanted to increase my manpower in any case.

I even had a shopping list ready. Gold didn't matter. I was already so EXCITED! Maybe I'd better use Mariette's "oral" services first. Hmm - not maybe but definitely!

 

"Mariette, what did Charl say when the school buildings and the shelters for the orphans will be ready?"

"The schools will be built and equipped in three days. The guild master and the house builders were obviously impressed with the speed, Milady."

"For the orphans' quarters, it will take until early next week. Why do we need orphans, Milady?"

"The children are essential to my long-term success, Mariette. They are an insurance policy for me, so to speak. Besides, it's always better to create the foundation for loyalty at a young age."

"Will all female orphans be raised to be slaves, Milady?"

"Oh no, only the very best will be offered that honor. You might be eligible, Mariette. Perhaps you would like to take it a step further tonight when we go to visit Virga? I have noticed that you are a little envious of Virga. Remember, I don't allow many to call me mistress. Only my slaves. And slave girls who don't wear my collar have to earn that privilege and prove to me that they are worth it. Make appointments with all the orphanages in the city."

"Yes, Milady."

 

My visit to the slave traders was like a shopping spree. I bought every half-human woman sight unseen. Male half-humans only if they meant something to one of the women. Relatives, husbands, boyfriends - it didn't matter. After that I had the female humans presented to me. Handsome, young and intelligent were my criteria.

Interestingly, I found a special one. A priestess from the Holy Empire of Nargonde. The contempt in her eyes for the slavers aroused my curiosity. Somehow she appealed to me and I chose her along with the rest. Corrupting a priestess would surely anger one of the gods. Even if not, I would have something to play with.

 

With the men, whether half-human or human, I looked for mages or alchemists. The selection was vanishingly small and so I simply chose the few that were available. There were not even a handful, disappointingly.

 

There was one exception. A paladin of sorts, a "religious" knight apparently also from Nargonde. Two things struck me about him.

 

He was recalcitrant.

And he was damn well hung. Around the nether regions.

 

His cock was a real work of beauty. Possibly, after extensive conditioning and education, a ride with him would be in the realm of possibility. His stoic look as I touched his cock with my crop was ... promising.

 

As a little joke, the priestess and the paladin were allowed to hold hands. Like in kindergarten. How cute. If looks could kill I would have melted. My heart warms up. I wonder which of the gods they worship?

 

Unfortunately, there were no female nobles. Or male. That would be a special treat.

 

In front of me were a total of 193 slaves:

127 demi-humans, 111 female and 16 male.

65 humans, 60 female and 5 male.

Among them were the priestess, the paladin, two mages and three alchemists.

 

When it came to paying, however, things got awkward for me.

 

Not because of the money. For all slaves together and the collars not even 20000 gold pieces were due. The amount didn't even hurt me. Even if I hadn't gotten a wholesale discount.

 

What was unpleasant, for one thing, was all the stinging in my fingers for all the blood the collars demanded. My patience was really stretched to the limit. Hard to bear.

 

The other thing was more problematic.

 

One of the slave traders tried to get his hands on my blood. Mariette drew my attention to it. And I was in a pretty bad state of mind anyway. Someone who wanted my blood in addition to the collars ranked below the worst scum on my scale.

 

I left my pepper spray to Mariette. She wanted to try out my little insurance policy since the assassin in the Alchemy Guild and I intended to give her that little treat.

 

His screams and cries for help after Mariette was able to prove its effectiveness amused a number of the slaves. I put one of my collars on him and added him to my collection.

 

What didn't thrill me was the reason he wanted my blood.

 

The other slave traders present were not thrilled at first that I was enslaving a colleague. However, they were mollified after I ordered my new slave to tell what he needed my blood for. After that, their looks contained a certain respect. Apparently, it is bad form to be caught stealing other people's slaves. Stealing, on the other hand, seems to be okay.

 

 

I had a hunch, though, that there was more than a little stealing going on here. Mariette made a mental note to question him again more closely. Possibly there were more motives behind it.

 

I released the rest of his slaves and collected his property and money. At the end of the day, I had to pay a measly 5000 gold pieces for my 194 new slaves and 200 additional collars. Pocket money.

 

Oh - and I now had someone who could tell me in detail how the trick with the slave collars and the magic worked.

 

And the day wasn't even over yet!

 

On my estate, I first sorted my new acquisitions.

The 16 male demi-humans were allowed to join their female saviors for the time being. I had not yet made a decision about what I wanted to do with them in detail. I'm not completely heartless when it comes to relationships. The remaining 100 demi-human women were taken under the wing of my girls. The same was true for the 60 humans females. All 160 had to be dressed and Cebille would groan and cheer under the workload of the large order. Mariette gave Constie the task of taking care of everything necessary.

 

I whispered to Mariette, "Very good, you are a good girl and you will be rewarded." in her ear.

Her initiative was worthy of my appreciation.

 

With the two mages, the three alchemists, the former slave trader, and my two religious lovebirds, I retired with Mariette to one of the former dance halls of my estate. I felt like having some entertainment during my entertainments.

 

Admittedly, I was not entirely innocent of why the ex-slave trader was after my blood. The cause was Baron de Kurdal, the king's chamberlain and administrator of the royal treasury. Baron de Kurdal was highly upset about his treatment by yours truly. Who would have thought that a little dose of behave-yourself from me could trigger such a vindictive reaction? I can only assume that Edward failed in his punishment of his chamberlain as well. Otherwise, I can't imagine why the good Baron would give me a hard time.

 

 

The chamberlain had somehow gotten wind that I wanted to buy slaves and managed to set his "friend" on me. I would have to look for the leak. And seal it in a publicizing and deterrent way. I could not allow an uncontrolled outflow of information - i.e. espionage. There were several candidates under consideration. That's why I contacted Cheval and put all her mares and stallions towards the customers. Anyone who brought me useful information from a customer would be rewarded appropriately.

 

The leak had to be relatively close to me. Which is awkward if I don't know who it is. It would be different if I know. Then I would be able to use the news channel myself and pass on information that would be useful to me.

 

Much more valuable was his knowledge about the magic of slave collars. Except for the fact that blood and magic were needed, he knew only one thing: there was only one source for the collars. There was a kind of stamp that was struck on the metal plaque on the collar to make it a slave collar. And there was only this one stamp. Every attempt to copy the stamp failed. One clue was that the stamp was made by a hero but the secret never came to light. No matter who tried.

 

There was even a reward for the one who succeeded in making a second stamp. The two mages and also the alchemists confirmed the story.

 

I like puzzles. Challenge accepted.

 

Mages are quite a snooty bunch. At least that's the impression my two pet mages gave me. If these two in front of me represent some sort of baseline, it will be interesting to see how the species behaves in the wild. In captivity the natural behavior is only visible in a distorted way.

 

As I had already feared, the general doctrine was that magic was a great mystery and reserved only for the truly worthy. From my point of view, the only thing they had correct was that it took words of "power" to work magic. Yes, I confess, I had to pull myself together very hard not to cry or laugh hysterically.

 

I figured a nasty exhausting wizard test would be just the thing for a demonstration of what incredibly great wizards they both were.

 

The result was somehow sobering and I didn't really expect anything impressive either. A bit of ice, some fire, a hint of wind, discreet darkness, and so on. Everything in stammered Japanese. Kid stuff.

<Ice pillar.>

<Fireball.>

<WIND!>

<Darkness.>

 

Teleportation. Telepathy. Truth spell. That would have been something. But no, just kid stuff. And according to their own statements, the two were relatively strong magicians. In the upper middle range.

 

No, the really strong mages wouldn't use other spells either. These mages would be especially gifted because of their lineage.

 

Their magic was just disappointing. But there was one bright spot. A true pearl of knowledge. Magical artifacts were nothing more than objects into which "magical" signs were carved.

 

Yes, sometimes the right answer is so obvious that it jumps right out at you and bites you in the nose. I felt like I was in 7th grade when it took me longer to answer the trick question than all the other questions combined. It was humiliating.

 

I ordered them both to give me a little example. And yes, it was just as simple as described.

The first one carved <Cold> into a cup and the water in it cooled. Of course, the second one carved <Hot> into the other cup and the contents became warm.

 

Both slaves were praised by me. Obedience must be rewarded. Even if I was not convinced of the performance in the first part.

 

My alchemist slaves would probably not be as useful to me as Gina. At least in terms of knowledge. Alchemy, however, might help me with my problem of iron in my raw material for glass.

Each of the three was given an equal amount of lime, soda ash, and silica sand and given the task of removing as much iron as possible from it and documenting the process in detail. After all, if you don't write it down it never happened. The time limit was 3 days. After that, I was supposed to have my smelting furnace ready.

 

The three of them were as excited as young dogs that had been thrown a toy in the meadow. They couldn't get started fast enough.

 

Which brought me to the religious participants in my little reception.

 

Holding hands is soo adorable. The way they stood there was sooo cute! Hach. How beautiful.

 

"I'm sure your story of how you finally ended up with me is a very sad, sorrowful and painful one. We'll get to that later. First, I want to know if you two have anything to add to my pet mages in terms of magic?"

 

"Magic is granted by the gods. Only those who are strong in faith may work magic. Anyone else is a transgressor and commits a sin against the gods, mistress."

 

As far as religion or religions are concerned, I am a laissez-faire type. Everyone can and should believe what they like. As long as no one gets on my nerves, every religion can do what it wants. Headscarf? All right. Purple body paint and naked in public? I'd like that. Sinners go to hell and the pious to heaven? Very well, please go that way. I couldn't care less. At least so far. However, that was BEFORE I was bagged in a drive-by transport and dumped here. Religions to me are also nothing more than somehow motivated power structures with their own agenda.

 

Karl Marx I have only little to gain. Perhaps my respect would be greater if his ideas and hypotheses had not also led to a totalitarian power system. But the moment a religion not only supports existing power structures, the moment religion itself becomes a power structure, then religion becomes not only opium but also cocaine for the people.

 

Maybe I should start my own religiously dressed up movement? Mariette, take note.

 

"Yes, yes. As you say. For me, one is like the other."

"HERETIC! If you blaspheme the gods you shall burn at the stake, mistress!"

 

Uh. How harsh. That escalated quickly. Did I mention how useful I find it that when given the right orders, slaves always answer truthfully and don't forget important details?

 

"Burned to death? At the stake? Is there any other punishment or even torture? But I don't believe in the gods at all."

 

"Yes and yes. All heretics, blasphemers, and unbelievers must burn! You shall have every bone broken on the wheel before you are whipped bloody at the stake, mistress!"

 

As I said, not only opium but also coke. A shame, but that's what I see from religions. Even with those undecided as to whether they really have one or even more "real" gods.

 

"You seem like a cutesy little zealot. So full of energy and righteous anger. I'm going to help you channel your anger and aggression. We're going to play a little game. Every time you call me heretic, blasphemer or infidel - understand? - you will kick the handsome, strong man you are holding hands with all your strength in his impressive manhood. If you think only about it, you will strike with your hand.

Afterwards you apologize to him with the words: The gods have commanded it!"

 

"And you, my beautiful boy, you will thank me for every kick or blow to your family jewels with the words, Thank you for showing me the way, mistress. I ask for one more, mistress!"

 

"Nod if you understand me."

 

Awww. Adorable!

 

"Which of the twisted gods do you two worship like that? To me, most of them looked a little bit screwy. And one was even extremely impolite."

 

"Blasphemy! You damned HERETIC! The gods commanded it! Mistress."

"ARGHHHH. Thank you for showing me the way, mistress. I ask for one more, mistress!"

"Our god Neposte commands that all blasphemer be punished. The gods have commanded it! Mistress."

"WHAT DO YOU DO? Thank you for showing me the way, mistress. I ask for one more, mistress!"

"Infidel. How dare you blaspheme the gods like this? The gods have commanded it! Mistress."

"AHHHH. Thank you for showing me the way, mistress. I ask for one more, mistress!"

"The gods have commanded it! Mistress."

" OWOOOOOOOOO. Thank you for showing me the way, mistress. I ask for one more, mistress!"

"The gods have commanded it! Mistress."

"NO. PLEASE! Thank you for showing me the way, mistress. I ask for one more, mistress!"

"The gods have commanded it! Mistress."

" MERCY!!! Stop it! Thank you for showing me the way, mistress. I ask for one more, mistress!"

 

Apparently, my energetic priestess did not really have her innermost self well under control. She obviously lacked the necessary inner calm, humility and willingness to sacrifice. How unfortunate. For my little paladin pet.

 

He looked downright panicked by now. He probably wouldn't have suspected that his female colleague could muster so much strength in faith? Puzzling.

 

"Stop."

 

Unlike Jamaine, the lad could take a bit. Honor to whom honor is due.

 

"I can watch you play this game for hours if you want to keep playing. But you can also just be useful and show me what magic devotees of the gods can do."

 

In retrospect, that was a mistake.

 

Paladins know a spell that can destroy a slave collar. Yes, yes, pride comes before the fall. I know. Shit happens.

 

The lad spoke <FREE THE BELIEVERS FROM THE YOKE OF SLAVERY!> and rushed toward me with his face contorted in pain.

 

Both collars fell to the ground burning. NO! My precious blood! Fucking asshole!

 

As the lad continued to approach, his female colleague nagged a <FREEZE STILL!> at me.

 

At this point, it could probably have come to an unpleasant event for me. Honestly, I was disappointed in myself and that was already unpleasant enough. Even without the prospect of having to endure a lot of pain and finally suffer a fire bath on the pyre.

 

Well, luck is with the stupid - or sometimes with the well prepared.

 

The pretty solidification spell bounced in front of me and was reflected back. Damn dirty bitch had to eat her own spell. Serves you right, Bonne Appetite!

 

The babe, in the meantime, was squirming closer to me, screaming "I'm going to crush you, you heathen witch!"

<Divine Cleansing!>

"What? Why does this not work? How did you do that? Impossible! Oh my god Neposte, oh you gods stand by your humble servant!" <Divine Cleansing!>

Oh yeah, that was a close one. Divine intervention really wouldn't have suited me. Fortunately for me, none of the disciples had gotten the right idea yet.

"Sad devotion to your weak, ancient religion won't help you, zealot."

"I just don't believe it, how could you survive the divine cleansing? Heretic witch!"

<The paladin can no longer cast a spell.>

<Telekinetic stranglehold around the paladin's neck at the strength of my grip. The paladin can no longer move from the spot.>

"I find your lack of faith disturbing. Don't be too proud of your religious terror you worship."

I've always wanted to say that. Take that and choke on it, buster!

 

At first he was kicking excitedly, after a minute his movements became weaker and weaker until finally he rolled his eyes, fainted and I dropped him on the floor.

 

No, of course I didn't kill him. If you had seen how hard and big his cock had become after that bit of breath control play you would know why. Impressively horny! I HAD to have a chastity cage for that cock. Maybe with an eyelet to walk the doggie.

 

All the excitement made me realize that the slave magic had some significant gaps and was not as overpowering as I had assumed.

 

What I could deduce from the information I had was:

- a former hero introduced slave magic here, probably a boy of Japanese middle school age, clever but not comprehensive

- usually Japanese characters are carved into objects to make them magical, here we seem to have a "stamp" that can imprint the magic, since nothing can be seen it is probably very small imprinting, kind of smart

- there is only one "stamp"

- the spell uses blood to recognize the "master"

- the spell either needs very little magic or somehow gathers it to sustain itself

- the spell "translates" the orders of the "master" somehow

- the spell can be "officially" ended only by the "master"

- the spell can be broken by "religious" or "divine" magic

 

As I once again decorated the necks of my two little religious fanatics with collars, I stuffed the loophole makeshift.

"You will not cast any spells without my personal permission. You will not attempt to escape. You will not contact or exchange messages with anyone outside of this household without seeking my permission. You will not damage or harm what is mine. You will not tell anyone my secrets. You will report to me anything that may be of use to me and any occurrences that may be dangerous to me."

 

In no way a perfect solution. There were certainly enough paladins and priests running around outside who could ruin my day.

Oh, the reason why neither spell reached me? Relatively simple.

<Any spell aimed directly at me is reflected back at the caster.>

Somehow I didn't like the idea of someone else throwing magic at me. Seemed like a good approach to me.

 

What disturbed me more than the attack by the two fanatics was the second "cooking" incident. Yes, it tastes great, I admit. And yes, I would hate to miss this fast food but do I really have to live these stereotypes? Come on, that's annoying. Give me a break.

One of my chefs from Casa della Mamma literally threw himself at the opportunity and purchased the license, or rather the recipes, from me. 50% of the profit goes into my pockets. And the new snack bar salesman looked extremely pleased. Now there are two more well-attended food stalls at the market.

For Ragu alla Bolognese da Mamma I need ... ARGH! NO! FUCK! OUT!
I will punish these gods so hard. Just you wait and see.

 

My mood at that moment was - admittedly - somewhat vengeful. A hateful woman justified in her actions. I immediately began planning for Case R. Operation Ragnarok.

 

The name was chosen completely at random. A simple computer algorithm. It HAS not the slightest meaning. Especially not related to the goal of the plan.  It is true! Nobody has the intention ...

 

Was that the point where I developed a devilishly villainous plan to destroy the world? And then left the documents in the open? Danger, Laura Robinson. Danger!

 

I tamped down Plan R and destroyed all traces. The ashes and remains I magically compressed into a small diamond in a fit of rage. And burned the diamond again. What was left went into an envelope and then into my inventory.

 

There is power in serenity. Begin planning for Operation BABYMET@L. How can I knock the socks off the "audience"?

 

To achieve a smooth "concert":

- I "absolutely" had to prevent the "band" from starting to turn away from their loyal "audience".

- It would be sooo "terrible" if the existing "audience" had to fight with new "fans" for attention and "backstage passes".

- Never let it happen that the "band" gets the "wrong" lyrics to practice.

 

Plan B. Has a good sound. Maybe Wagner? Valkyries?

 

I think I'll have to see a doctor if I smile any longer.

Who was this "Loptr" anyway? Somehow the name sounded familiar.

My mood immediately became much better.

 

I visited Virga together with Mariette and the naughty, perverted rabbit. Virga was surprised that this time she didn't have an audience but she had to watch me and Mariette playing lovingly with the mischievous bunny. All she had to do was beg all the time to be allowed to play along.

 

Another time perhaps, Virga. Rewards have to be earned.

Announcement

A few concerned readers have asked me the question: Where is the smut? A microscopic R-18 chapter only. You're not going to screw us over, are you?

Um, well, how best to put it. No.

I had, in fact 3 "scenes" already written. Until I saw how long the respective chapters became. And me after chapter 3 at short notice decided the "sexually deviant acts" to convert into short stories.

The rewriting needs some time. Have I already mentioned that correcting is hell?

Expect the next R-18 tonight, tomorrow at the latest.

I am sadistic, not cruel. Also to my readers.

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