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Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

“She was crying, begging me to stop, saying that I was hurting her. I just laughed, telling her she should be grateful to receive my affection, and that nothing in her life would compare to the glory of bearing my child. Galvin always told me that it didn’t matter what happened to the weak; it was our birthright to take what we wanted because we were superior in blood and magic. I wanted to believe him, because with him, I wasn’t alone. We had fun, we laughed, and we dismissed everyone and everything that got in our way. I wanted to believe that there was nothing wrong with us, even if, deep down, I knew the truth.

Eventually, he had to stop and rest, unable to complete his workout. The fact that it was so challenging meant that he was doing something right. He assumed the lotus position on the floor and began meditating to regain his strength. Now that he was no longer moving, the crushing force of the magical restraints eased, while still keeping his mana suppressed. Curious, he decided to practice his spiritual sense training. The Harajin had a method of invisibility known as Bakudan, in which they would slow the flow of their mana, near to the point of a complete halt, and that stillness would allow them to blend in with their environment, as if reality itself had overlooked them. It also helped hone one’s awareness of the ethereal.