Chapters 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14 are already on Pa tr eon

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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)

Inside, the shop looked more like an antique store than a pawnshop. There were chairs, armchairs, and tables everywhere.

Chairs and tables were filled with trinkets and baubles, figurines, and small plaques with sardonic inscriptions like "A happy wife is a wine-drinking wife."

Behind the desk sat a tall woman with jet-black hair and beautifully caramel skin. She leaned over the desk, hunched over some document with a red pen in her hands. Her hair cascaded in a delightful heap on one side of her face, accentuating the statuesque nature of her beautiful face. For a moment, after entering, Harry simply stared at her. She was like an ancient Egyptian goddess of desire. Her lips curled in embarrassment as she looked through the documents.

But eventually, he approached the desk, tapping on it gently. The woman straightened up as if awakening from a deep sleep, even though her eyes were open.

"Hi," she said, shaking her head, realizing she might be shaking off the problems she was working on. "Sorry. Hi. I'm Susan. Welcome. Please, have a look around."

"Well," Harry said, "I'm actually more interested in selling."

"Selling? Oh, no." She shook her head. "No, no. We can't take any more stock right now. Sorry, not at all."

"Really?"

He looked around. Most of what was there looked like it had just arrived, dust-free and unsorted, suggesting that there was a lot of movement going on.

"Really. We... I mean, I'm getting out of the business. Sort of. I mean, am I getting out? Not that we failed? Or I failed? But just... the end. Closing the shop. So I can't handle any more. I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

Harry was now curious. Maybe only because she was so beautiful when she spoke.

"My husband." Her face contorted. "He died. He ran the shop. He was going to turn it into an antique store. You know, the kind. Get rid of most of the dark junk, break curses on those items, or secure them. Get out of the pawnshop business. But I... I don't know how to break curses. And I simply don't have the time to run the shop. I have no clue about it."

She smiled indulgently, as if suddenly realizing how much she had revealed about herself. Harry returned the smile, showing an appropriate amount of concern. "I'm sorry about your husband. That's unfortunate." She shrugged. "It was sudden. He felt nothing. Don't worry."

Harry turned and looked at the shop. "God, you know, I just walked in here for the first time, and you're already leaving." He chuckled. "That's the only thing... I thought I could make it. My workshop is just across the street. I'm cleaning it up."

"Closing another business?"

"Sort of. I had conflicts with... everyone, really." But he wasn't paying attention to the conversation anymore. On the table across from the beautiful shopkeeper lay a pendant with an uncut crystal, hanging from a jewelry stand. It swayed gently, drawing his gaze. It was brownish-purple, except for the deep silver attaching it to the chain. A beautiful item. Engraved on one side was a sun with an eye inside the shape of the sun.

"My husband," he heard the shopkeeper say. "Bought all this from some vendor. Everything arrived yesterday. But damn if I can find its name. No one stayed to help me load it. It just suddenly appeared in the loading dock." He approached the crystal, lifting it slightly. "How much for this?"

Her steps were light, barely audible. She was tall, but also slender. Her blouse clung to her delicate waist like spandex. The jeans were so tight that they fit like stockings. Her panties were visible just above the waistline.

"I'm not sure," she mumbled over his shoulder, trying to touch him.

For some reason, the thought of her touching the watch at the same time as him filled him with anger. He couldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow it. It was inhuman, disgusting. He turned away from her, firmly gripping the crystal by its chain. As he did, a large, blinding light flashed out of the crystal, swirling in the air.

"Step back and let me take a look, alright?" She nodded slowly, turning away dully and returning to the counter. She bumped into it a few times, unable to find her way. It was only after looking up again that Harry noticed she was walking backward.

Strange.

"Hey," he said. "You don't have to sulk about everything."

Her face was distant, calm. "Don't worry. About everything."

"I'm serious," he said. "You don't have to joke about it."

"Serious." She sighed contentedly. Her posture had completely changed from the hunched, stressed form he had just seen - now her stance was relaxed. Relaxed to the point of... emptiness. "We won't joke. Alright."

Her smile was sluggish. Almost blissful. "Damn right," Harry said, looking at the watch in his hands.

It was impossible. Was it really possible? "Hop on one leg," he tried.

She did. Her heavy breasts bounced happily. Good Lord.

"Smile. With teeth. Like you're posing for a photo." She tossed her hair back and smiled widely, radiating joy to some invisible camera.

His cock throbbed in his jeans. It was a revelation, he thought dimly. It was... a revelation of a hundred lives.

The doorbell rang - another customer entered. An older woman. Fortunately, somehow, her attention was diverted by an object just in front of the door. A plate, he thought.

Quickly, Harry stashed the crystal in his pocket, then ushered Susan back into the small office behind the counter. Her face began to smile less and her movements became increasingly difficult to coerce.

He retreated with a smile on his face. The customer in question was a small, elderly woman, calmly strolling through the aisles.

"I'm very sorry, but we have to close." "Close?" she looked around. "It's midday."

"I know!" He smiled friendly, nervously. Part of the act. "Such a shame, isn't it? But I'm the only person working here, and I just received an owl about a sudden family emergency."

"I'll be just a moment," the woman said, returning to browsing. "You know, you can leave me here. I can close up. I won't take anything, my boy." "Please, ma'am." Harry's voice took on a sharp tone. "You have to leave. Now. Please."

The older woman cleared her throat. Her hands and arms gathered around her side, as if she was holding groceries.

"There's no need for rudeness." He pushed the door. "Anyway. You can bet I won't be back here! I won't recommend it to my friends either! They buy these things!"

"Good day, ma'am."

He closed the door and locked it.

THE SHOPKEEPER WAS STILL in a trance in the back room, although not as firmly as before. Allowing her to relax and simply feel what she felt seemed like a good way to prolong the trance - if that's what it truly was.

The office was small. Long rows of binders - likely filled with accounting and inventory documentation - filled one wall. On the back wall, on a shelf, hung photos of the shop owner with her husband and their dog. A few of them were turned or pushed aside. He spared a moment and pushed the rest away. Nothing and no one was looking at him. He didn't want any witnesses, not even in moving pictures.

Finally, he sat in front of the shopkeeper. They both stood in front of a sturdy, old oak desk that looked like an antique in itself. Her face was exquisite, and he had to resist the urge to kiss her when she smiled so pleasantly.

"Susan," he said. "I want you to tell me what you feel."

She slowly extended her neck, laughing softly. "Peace. Warmth. Trust."

"Good. That's good."

"Yes, good."

"I want you to unbutton your blouse, Susan." It was a thin, blue blouse. Her breasts hung heavily in it. They looked wonderful from the outside. He wanted to see the color of her bra. Moreover, if she did it, she would surely be completely mesmerized. Somehow. The mechanic could figure it out later.

"Un... button?" Her hands went to the shirt. She toyed with the top button, fingers sliding against each other in hesitation. "But... She shook her head. "No. I don't... want to."

Harry felt panic shake his body. His stomach twisted into a knot. His hands became sweaty. She was coming out of the trance, and quickly. But... why? What was different?

He reached into his pocket and held the stone. The pendant! Yes! Something with that, of course. "How... how did we get here?" she asked. Her gaze brightened. "Why are you in my office?"

She held her head in her hands, rubbing it as if she had a tension headache.

He traced his steps. He told her to step back. He told her to calm down and relax, to enter the office.

"I think you need to calm down," he said, showing his watch in front of her face.

"What?" Her gaze was stern. "Don't tell me to calm down. You're in my office. Why are you holding that? Do you want to pay for it? You better hope so. I'm going to call... someone."

"Wait!"

As he exhaled, so did she, and the pendant hung from her hand. It swayed from side to side, and the dark-skinned beauty's eyes sparkled with vivid, filling light. She slowly came to a halt. Fixated now on the easy pendulum motion of the pendant.

It was a pendulum, he triumphantly thought. The pendulum motion was the key, activating the artifact. Of course. Just like in the show. How could he have missed it? "Sit. Relax."

"Yes," Susan said. "Okay."

Harry licked his lips. Everything in her was ready to take. She was just waiting for his command. God, what a feeling!

"You will be very attentive and open now. Do you understand?" "Yes."

How deep was she really? He needed to know. "You should say 'Sir' when addressing me, Susan. It's natural. It's a sign of respect. And you respect me very much."

"Yes, Sir. I respect you very much."

Her voice was exceptionally calm. Almost monotone, with a gentle, pleasurable breath in each syllable. "Every time you call me Sir, you will feel how much you respect me more and more. More than anyone you remember. You know my authority is right and good."

"Right and good. Yes, Sir. I respect you very, very much."

If he gave her a chance to respond or indicate that she wanted to respond, she would. Interesting. But what if he just wanted to put her in a trance, as he had previously put all his patients in a trance? Would she be able to go through a full induction?

"I want you to imagine yourself at home, Susan. You don't have to say anything unless I ask you to respond. You just have to listen and be obedient. Respect my voice. Follow my voice. Everything I say, you see and feel. It's all very real. You are in your home. You are alone there, although you hear my voice. And you trust my voice. The house is filled with all your thoughts. All your worries. All the stresses and responsibilities. They take the form of ordinary objects, but you know what they are. Do you see it?" "Yes."

Creating her own mental landscape, even a basic one, would give him an easier time molding her mind according to his will.

His cock was hard. Why was it hard? Because you can make this beautiful woman beg to fuck you until death, you fool. Oh. Right.

Real mind healing, of course, didn't work this way. It required repetition, the right attitude of the person being treated, the right environment, deep trust in the healer, and a significant emphasis on relaxation. It took years of practice and many hours spent in sessions to descend as deeply as Susan did in one instant. And all thanks to the artifact.

Chapters 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14 are already on Pa tr eon

If you would like to read the next chapters faster, see exclusive content, or support my work, please visit

Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)