Harem Master: Seduction System

Chapter 411: Subconscious Subjugation

The grand, ostentatious convoy of the Celestial Dragon Empire’s highest nobility continued its majestic voyage across the vast, varied landscapes of the continent. For days, the massive, golden carriages pulled by four-winged Golden Spirit Dragons cut through the clouds, leaving the oppressive heat of the Yao Clan’s Secret Realm far behind. The journey was a slow, deliberate display of imperial wealth, stopping frequently at the most luxurious, heavily fortified resort cities to allow the beasts to rest and the royals to indulge in worldly comforts.

Within the meticulously manicured, profound-stone courtyards of the Soaring Crane Estate—a premier imperial hotel situated in the lush Green River Province—a tense, heavily perfumed gathering was taking place.

The Imperial Women had requisitioned an open-air jade pavilion surrounded by cascading waterfalls. Noble Consort Shu, Imperial Consort Xian, Princess Huang Mei, and Princess Huang Hua sat around a table carved from a single piece of ancient spirit-wood, sipping incredibly rare floral teas. However, the usual, razor-sharp political banter that defined their interactions had been entirely eclipsed by a heavy, suffocating wave of newly acquired martial power.

Noble Consort Shu sat with an air of absolute, untouchable supremacy. Her dark blue, heavily embroidered corset dress seemed to strain even harder against the massive, pale globes of her cleavage, but it was the aura radiating from her body that truly commanded the room. She was no longer a mere Peak Grand Martialist. She exuded the terrifying, deeply dense, and undeniably heavy pressure of a Mid-Level Martial King. The water-attribute Battle Aura around her was so profound that the nearby waterfalls seemed to instinctively bend toward her presence.

Princess Huang Mei, sitting across from her, was gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. Her athletic, perky breasts rose and fell with rapid, angry breaths, her gold-threaded martial dress feeling suffocating.

“You must rein in your Battle Aura, Consort Shu,” Princess Huang Mei snapped, unable to completely hide the bitter, burning jealousy in her voice. “It is spilling over the table and disrupting my tea. We are all quite aware of the… miraculous gains you achieved.”

Noble Consort Shu offered a melodic, breathy laugh, waving a perfectly manicured hand lazily through the air, completely retracting her overwhelming pressure. “My deepest apologies, Little Mei. The expansion of my internal pathways was simply so massive, so incredibly profound, that my Dantian is still adjusting to the sheer volume of Qi. It is difficult to contain the power of a Mid-Level Martial King when one acquires it in a single night.”

Princess Huang Mei’s hands clenched into tight fists upon her lap. The reminder of what she had lost sent a fresh wave of homicidal rage coursing through her veins. If her damn, overly paranoid guard, Commander Liang, had not interrupted Alaric with his invasive spiritual sense, she, too, would have had those final four extraordinary meridian points opened. She would be sitting here matching Consort Shu’s aura, rather than merely enjoying a smoother, faster flow of a Peak Grand Martialist.

“A fortuitous encounter, indeed,” Imperial Consort Xian interjected, her tall, commanding figure draped in crimson silks that highlighted her incredibly wide, curvaceous hips. Her haughty sneer was firmly in place, but her eyes burned with an unmistakable, ravenous hunger. “It seems the wandering scholar truly possesses hands blessed by the heavens. However, a single pillar does not hold up a palace, Consort Shu. My First Prince still commands the absolute loyalty of the vanguard.”

“Political alliances are fleeting, Consort Xian,” Consort Shu purred, taking a delicate sip of her tea. “But absolute, personal martial strength? That is eternal. And currently, my strength guarantees that my son, the Third Prince, has a mother who can actively defend him against the shadows of the court.”

Princess Huang Hua, leisurely waving her spirit-peacock fan, her wide, voluptuous hips sinking comfortably into the silk cushions, offered a sultry smile. As a supporter of her blood brother, the Third Prince, she naturally aligned with Consort Shu.

“Do not fret, Consort Xian, Little Mei,” Princess Huang Hua drawled, her gaze turning toward the distant guest quarters where Alaric resided. “The journey is long. The scholar has assured us that his energies are replenishing. We shall all have our turn to experience this… miraculous therapy.”

Over the next two weeks, as the convoy moved from city to city, the Imperial Women systematically, desperately sought out the hands of the wandering scholar.

And Alaric, the master orchestrator of their downfall, was more than happy to oblige.

He operated with terrifying, flawless efficiency. Under the guise of extreme, isolated medical procedures, he systematically dismantled the remaining beauties of the imperial court. He ensured that the Half-Step Martial Emperor guards, deeply traumatized by the brutal crippling of Commander Liang, completely sealed their spiritual senses, leaving the women entirely at his mercy behind closed doors.

When it was Imperial Consort Xian’s turn, Alaric did not hold back. He cast the Mind-Clouding Ambrosia Hex, plunging the fiercely protective, commanding mother of the First Prince into a hazy, highly suggestible state of drunken euphoria. He utilized his spatial magic to strip her naked, revealing a body that was thick, mature, and undeniably fertile.

He had fucked her madly, pounding her wide, luscious, heart-shaped ass until it glowed a bright, stinging red. He had used her voluptuous body thoroughly, forcing her to ride his massive, thick erection while she babbled incoherently about achieving supreme power. By the time dawn broke, Alaric had pumped half a dozen loads of his potent seed deep into her womb.

When Consort Xian awoke, her mind wiped of the sexual defilement by the spell, she was greeted not only by intense bodily soreness but by an absolutely staggering martial breakthrough. Her foundation, which was already robust, exploded. She had bypassed the early and mid-stages entirely, her crimson Battle Aura roaring to life as she ascended directly to the Late-Stage of the Martial King level.

Princess Huang Hua’s session followed a similar, deeply erotic path. The elegant, fan-wielding princess, who had maintained her flawless, youthful appearance for over four decades, lost her virginity on a velvet massage table. Alaric shattered her pristine defenses, his massive shaft tearing through her maidenhead while she writhed in a state of magical intoxication, her wide hips bucking wildly against his grip. She awoke the next day to find her bottleneck shattered, stepping firmly into the Early-Stage of the Martial King level.

Alaric even granted a second session to Princess Huang Mei, secretly fixing the “blocked” meridians he had intentionally left sealed. He deflowered her with brutal, athletic efficiency, matching her intense physical stamina by folding her lithe, muscular legs over his shoulders and driving deep into her core until she passed out from sheer ecstasy.

For two entire weeks, Alaric repeatedly, secretly fucked each woman again and again. None of these Imperial Women knew the filthy, degrading truth. To their conscious minds, these sessions were merely the most intensely pleasurable, comforting, and miraculously effective medical massages in the world. They actively sought him out each night, their bodies subconsciously aching for the shape of his massive dick, while their conscious minds believed they simply desired the rapid cultivation growth.

However, Alaric was an Archmage, and he was not content with merely altering their memories. He used this time to test and refine a profound, terrifying new application of his magic.

He developed the Soul-Tethering Mirage Hex.

It was a spell far more insidious than simple intoxication. During the height of their sexual pleasure, while their minds were entirely open and their defenses nonexistent, Alaric would cast this hex, subtly guiding their subconscious minds without letting them realize it.

He couldn’t implant suggestions that diametrically opposed their core personalities—he couldn’t make Consort Xian suddenly support the Third Prince—but he could tweak their personal perceptions of reality.

Currently, his greatest success with the Soul-Tethering Mirage Hex was entirely practical. Because he fucked them so ruthlessly, their bodies were naturally covered in physical evidence: deep bite marks on their massive breasts, stark red spanking handprints on their curvy buttocks, and bruises on their inner thighs.

Through the spell, Alaric trained their subconscious to completely normalize these marks. When the women awoke and bathed, they saw the bruises, but their minds instantly, naturally rationalized them.

‘Ah, the Qi-bruising,’ Consort Shu would think, inspecting a dark bite mark near her nipple in the mirror. ‘The stagnation was severe there. The scholar’s acupressure was incredibly necessary to draw out the impurities.’

They didn’t discuss it with each other. They simply accepted it individually as a natural, albeit intense, side effect of the miraculous therapy.

Furthermore, Alaric planted a deeply isolating subconscious suggestion. He subtly wove a sense of profound repulsion into their minds regarding any man other than himself. When their guards approached them, or when they interacted with Feng Xiao—the only other male permitted in their inner circle—the women felt a sudden, inexplicable wave of physical distaste. The thought of being touched by anyone else made their skin crawl. But conversely, when they were alone with Alaric, their subconscious minds practically screamed for his touch, compelling them to be as physically close and touchy as possible, brushing against his arms, leaning into his space, and offering him sultry, unguarded smiles.

By the end of the two weeks, as the convoy was merely a few days away from the imposing, heavily warded borders of the Imperial Capital, Alaric had effectively tasted and enjoyed every single Imperial Beauty in the group.

He sat in his luxurious carriage, checking his mental progress. He was incredibly close to completing the system mission, [The Emperor’s Ladder]. Imperial Consort Xian and Noble Consort Shu perfectly fit the target criteria—they were the official, highest-ranking consorts of a True Martial Emperor, and both now possessed the power level of a Martial King. He had fucked each of them at least thrice on this journey.

But Alaric knew the parameters of the system. Fucking them while their minds were clouded by magic did not count as “conquering” them. To complete the mission, he had to ensure they became his devoted sluts willingly, with their full conscious knowledge, choosing his cock over their Emperor.

‘Patience,’ Alaric mused, looking out the crystal window at the passing clouds. ‘The foundation is set. The addiction is planted. When the time is right, I will lift the veil, and they will beg me to keep them.’

For now, he felt it was time to shift his focus back to the prize that truly amused him: Princess Gu Ling.

While Alaric had been busy corrupting the highest echelons of the Imperial Court, Feng Xiao had been trapped in a suffocating, exhausting whirlwind of political maneuvering.

Every single day, the Flame King was summoned. If it wasn’t Imperial Consort Xian detailing the military might of the First Prince, it was Princess Huang Hua offering him partial ownership of coastal trade routes on behalf of the Third Prince. He had to navigate their sharp questions, their thinly veiled threats, and their overwhelming, haughty arrogance with the utmost care, ensuring he didn’t accidentally commit his Pill Valley backing to a losing faction before he had even seen the Imperial Capital.

Because of this relentless schedule, Feng Xiao could barely spare a moment to breathe, let alone find the time to meet with his dear Gu Ling alone and secretly.

However, as the two weeks drew to a close, a rare window of opportunity finally opened. The Imperial Princesses and Concubines were entirely too distracted. They were frantically busy checking out the miraculous, shocking changes in each other’s Battle Auras, comparing their gains, and excitedly cornering Alaric to beg for their next massage session.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Feng Xiao sent a covert, spiritual message to Gu Ling.

That night, under the cover of darkness, they met in the private, profound-steel training grounds of the Cloud Piercer Hotel, a magnificent estate perched upon the edge of a towering cliff.

Feng Xiao stood in the center of the arena, wearing his simple blue robes, his heart swelling with immense affection as he watched Gu Ling approach. She wore a sleek, form-fitting combat suit of pale lavender silk that perfectly highlighted her slender waist and the elegant flare of her hips.

“Ling’er,” Feng Xiao breathed, stepping forward, his normally stoic face softening completely.

“Brother Xiao,” Gu Ling smiled gently, though she kept a respectful distance, ever mindful of the invisible eyes that might be watching.

They didn’t engage in a heavy, life-or-death sparring session. It was merely a moving meditation, a way to spend intimate time with each other, crossing swords to communicate the emotions they couldn’t speak aloud.

Feng Xiao drew a simple iron sword, channeling his profound Flame Qi. He didn’t use his full strength, but he allowed a fraction of his terrifying, fused Heavenly Flame to coat the blade. The tri-colored fire—a suppressed manifestation of his eight merged flames—crackled with intense, destructive heat.

Gu Ling drew her ornate longsword, her Ethereal Jade Sword Art flowing like water.

As their blades clashed, Feng Xiao felt a sudden, massive shock vibrate up his arm. The kinetic force behind Gu Ling’s parry was staggering.

He pushed harder, increasing the output of his fused Heavenly Flame, intending to gently press her back. But Gu Ling merely twitched her wrist. Her pale lavender Battle Aura flared with an incredibly dense, heavy pressure that instantly suffocated his flames, knocking his iron sword aside with a casual flick.

Feng Xiao stumbled back a step, his eyes widening in absolute astonishment.

“Ling’er…” Feng Xiao gasped, lowering his blade completely. “Your Battle Aura… it is incredibly robust. The sheer density…”

He focused his soul cultivation, peering past her physical form to read the flow of her Qi. His jaw dropped.

“You are a Late-Stage Martial King!” Feng Xiao exclaimed, his voice a mixture of awe and rising, protective panic.

The last time he had met her in the Yao Clan Secret Realm, just before he entered the Pill Realm to gather ingredients a month ago, she had been a newly ascended Early-Stage Martial King. To cross two minor boundaries within the Martial King realm in a mere thirty days was mathematically, physically impossible through normal meditation.

A dark, terrifying thought seized Feng Xiao’s mind.

“Ling’er, tell me the truth,” Feng Xiao demanded, stepping closer, his hands gripping her shoulders. “Did you utilize a forbidden technique? Did the Gu Clan elders force you to consume a Six-Colored or Seven-Colored Seventh-Tier Pill that exhausts your future potential to temporarily inflate your strength?”

Gu Ling looked at him, slightly taken aback by his intense reaction, before a soft, amused smile touched her lips. She gently pulled out of his grip.

“Brother Xiao, you worry far too much,” Gu Ling reassured him, her voice calm and steady. “I would never sabotage my foundation, and even the strict, stubborn elders of my Gu Clan would never do something to harm the future potential of their heiress. They would never allow such a shortsighted method.”

“Then how?” Feng Xiao pressed, his analytical alchemist mind failing to find a logical explanation. “The purity of your Qi is flawless, yet the volume has tripled.”

Gu Ling’s smile widened, a look of profound, genuine gratitude shining in her ethereal eyes. “It was not a pill, Brother Xiao. It was a miracle. It is all because of the profound massage therapy I received from my good friend, Alaric, when we were staying at the Yao Clan’s Secret Realm.”

Feng Xiao froze. The name hit him like a physical blow.

Alaric. The handsome, wandering scholar who seemed to effortlessly command the attention of the Ling Clan heiress and the entire Imperial Court. The man whose very presence irritated Feng Xiao’s instincts.

A deep, ugly frown marred Feng Xiao’s face. He felt a sudden, visceral spike of intense jealousy and suspicion twist in his gut. He didn’t like it. He absolutely hated the idea that another man, especially a man as striking and enigmatic as Alaric, had laid his hands upon his beloved Gu Ling’s body to perform a “massage.”

“He massaged you?” Feng Xiao asked, his voice tight, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his sword hilt. “Ling’er… the process of opening meridians requires immense physical contact. Did he… did he touch you anywhere inappropriate during this therapy?”

Gu Ling let out a delicate, aristocratic snort, rolling her eyes slightly at his overbearing protectiveness. The mental blocks Alaric had installed held perfectly firm. She had absolutely zero conscious memory of Alaric’s massive cock tearing her virginity or his mouth sucking her breasts.

“Do not be absurd, Brother Xiao,” Gu Ling chided him gently. “Alaric is a gentleman and a profound healer. He would never dare to cross the bounds of propriety. Furthermore, the entire procedure took place right in the open pavilion, directly in front of my dear Sister Ying. Ling Ying is Alaric’s beloved girlfriend. Do you honestly believe a man would act inappropriately toward another woman right in front of the woman he loves?”

Feng Xiao exhaled a long, heavy breath, the tight knot of jealousy in his chest loosening slightly. He looked into Gu Ling’s clear, honest eyes and saw no deception.

“You are right,” Feng Xiao admitted, shaking his head. “Forgive me, Ling’er. The stress of the imperial politics is making me paranoid. If Ling Ying was present to chaperone, then there is no problem with it. I should be thanking the man for helping you solidify your foundation.”

Before Gu Ling could respond, the heavy wooden doors of the training ground slid open.

Ling Ying stepped into the arena, her voluptuous figure clad in a simple, emerald silk wrap. She offered Feng Xiao a polite, brief nod before turning her complete attention to Gu Ling.

“Sister Gu, my apologies for interrupting your spar,” Ling Ying spoke, her voice carrying a bright, eager energy. “I have just spoken with Alaric. He mentioned that he has completely recovered his vitality from treating the Consorts, and he has recently comprehended a new, highly advanced method to further enhance your potential. He believes he can solidify your Late-Stage breakthrough and perhaps push your strength even higher tonight.”

Hearing that Alaric was free, and that he possessed yet another method to make her even stronger, Gu Ling’s ethereal eyes shone with immediate, unadulterated excitement. The addictive, subconscious craving for the mind-melting pleasure of the “therapy” flared brilliantly in her mind.

“Truly?” Gu Ling asked, hurriedly sheathing her longsword. She turned to Feng Xiao, offering a quick, apologetic smile. “Brother Xiao, we must conclude our spar for tonight. This is an opportunity I absolutely cannot miss.”

She didn’t even wait for his reply, immediately heading toward the exit to go find Alaric.

Feng Xiao was left standing in the center of the arena, staring at her retreating back. The knot of suspicion and intense jealousy violently violently twisted in his gut once more. He watched her break off their rare, precious time together so eagerly just to go find that wandering scholar. It gnawed at his pride. The man was too handsome, too skilled, and possessed entirely too many mysteries.

Feng Xiao turned his sharp gaze toward Ling Ying, who was preparing to follow Gu Ling.

“Lady Ling Ying,” Feng Xiao spoke up, his voice firm and commanding, projecting the aura of the Flame King. “I must insist on a condition.”

Ling Ying paused, turning her head to look at him, her emerald eyes inherently cool and dismissive of the man she had been magically conditioned to find repulsive. “A condition regarding what, exactly, Feng Xiao?”

“Regarding Princess Gu Ling’s therapy,” Feng Xiao stated, walking toward her. “I request that you remain physically present in the exact same chamber for the entire duration of the time Alaric massages her.”

Ling Ying internally snorted, a dark, mocking laugh echoing in her subjugated mind. ‘This arrogant fool thinks he can dictate terms to my Master? He has no idea what happens in that room.’

Outwardly, Ling Ying maintained a polite, unbothered facade. “You overstep your bounds, alchemist. However, your request is entirely redundant. I will naturally be by my beloved’s side the entire time. I assist him in monitoring the Qi fluctuations.”

“See that you do,” Feng Xiao warned softly, though he felt a slight relief at her confirmation.

As Ling Ying departed, Feng Xiao remained in the arena. He sheathed his sword, but his mind was not at ease. He sat down in a lotus position, pretending to meditate. In reality, he pushed his immense, incredibly powerful soul cultivation—a spiritual sense that bordered on the Half-Step Martial Emperor realm—outward, casting an invisible, incredibly thin thread of perception across the hotel grounds, aiming it directly toward Alaric’s suite. He would not spy visually, respecting her privacy, but he would monitor the energy. If he sensed anything untoward, he would tear the doors down.

Later that evening, the atmosphere within Alaric’s lavish, dimly lit bedchamber was thick with anticipation.

Gu Ling lay face-down upon Alaric’s massive, silk-draped bed. This time, they were in a completely different city, and the dynamic had subtly shifted. She was not intoxicated by the Hundred-Year Drunken Spirit Nectar. Her mind was completely sober, sharp, and fully aware of her surroundings. She wore a thin, modest white silk robe that covered her from her neck to her ankles.

Alaric stood beside the bed, rolling up the sleeves of his dark tunic. Ling Ying sat gracefully on a nearby chair, pouring a cup of tea, entirely fulfilling her role as the dutiful chaperone.

As Alaric raised his hands to begin, his supreme magical senses flared. He felt it instantly. A faint, incredibly stealthy, yet undeniably potent thread of spiritual sense brushed against the outer wards of his suite.

Alaric smirked, a dark, genuinely amused expression crossing his handsome face. ‘The Flame King is eavesdropping. How perfectly dramatic. He wishes to stand guard over his precious White Moonlight.’

It would be incredibly interesting to completely, utterly break Gu Ling while her dear lover, Feng Xiao, listened intently to every single moan falling from her lips, having absolutely no idea that she was moaning while being intensely, erotically violated rather than undergoing a painful medical procedure.

However, since Gu Ling was completely sober, Alaric could not directly rip her clothes off and shove his cock into her pussy. Her aristocratic defenses and martial instincts were fully active.

He had to proceed with absolute, terrifying subtlety.

Alaric placed his large, warm hands gently upon Gu Ling’s upper back, over the white silk robe.

“Relax your breathing, Princess,” Alaric instructed softly, beginning a perfectly normal, entirely legitimate muscle massage. He used his thumbs to knead the tension in her shoulders, gradually working his way down her spine.

Gu Ling let out a soft sigh of contentment, her eyes closing as the mundane, yet highly skilled pressure relieved the soreness of her recent spar.

For the first ten minutes, Alaric did nothing untoward. He merely established a rhythm of trust.

Then, as his hands swept over the small of her back, Alaric seamlessly, flawlessly activated his newest, most insidious creation: the Subconscious Weaving Hex.

He didn’t chant. He simply let the profound, mind-altering magic seep from his fingertips directly into her nervous system.

The spell did not knock her out. It did not make her drunk or dizzy. Instead, it made her mind feel incredibly heavy, intensely relaxed, and supremely focused entirely on physical sensation. It temporarily severed the connection between her logical, analytical brain and her sensory receptors. She couldn’t formulate complex thoughts, analyze her surroundings, or speak coherent sentences. She was trapped in a heavy, waking trance, her entire existence reduced to what she was feeling in that exact moment.

And more importantly, the Subconscious Weaving Hex acted as a permanent recording device for her subconscious. Whatever she experienced under this spell, her deep mind would remember, cataloging it as ‘normal’ and ‘acceptable’ behavior for the future.

It was time to train the Princess.

Since Feng Xiao was listening with his spiritual sense, Alaric absolutely did not plan to speak up and risk giving the game away. Instead, he utilized his mental link with Ling Ying.

‘Speak, Ying’er,’ Alaric commanded silently. ‘Guide her through the process. Use proper, clinical martial terminology. Ensure the eavesdropping alchemist outside believes this is a strenuous, highly professional medical expansion.’

Ling Ying set her teacup down and stood up, walking toward the bed. Her voice was calm, clear, and perfectly professional.

“Sister Gu, your muscular tension is interfering with the Qi flow,” Ling Ying spoke aloud, ensuring her words carried clearly. “You must completely relax your body. Allow your back to arch slightly to open the dorsal pathways.”

As Ling Ying spoke those innocent, clinical words, Alaric’s actions completely contradicted them.

He grabbed the hem of Gu Ling’s white silk robe and forcefully, smoothly shoved it all the way up to her armpits, completely exposing her bare, incredibly luscious, wide buttocks and her long, flawless legs to the cool air of the room.

Gu Ling gasped softly, her heavy, trance-like mind registering the sudden exposure, but the spell prevented her from articulating a protest.

“Yes, just like that,” Ling Ying encouraged aloud, her tone soothing. “Now, Alaric must apply firm, direct pressure to the lower foundation points. It may cause a sudden, sharp sensation, but it is necessary to flush the stagnant energy. Breathe through it.”

Alaric didn’t apply acupressure. He raised his large, heavy hand and delivered a brutal, incredibly sharp, stinging slap directly to the center of Gu Ling’s bare, pale right buttock.

SMACK!

“AAHHH!” Gu Ling cried out, a loud, highly erotic moan of pain and instant, overwhelming pleasure tearing from her lips. Her hips bucked involuntarily off the mattress.

Outside, sitting in the training grounds, Feng Xiao flinched slightly as he heard her cry through his spiritual thread. His fists clenched. ‘It sounds painful,’ Feng Xiao thought, grinding his teeth. ‘But Ling Ying is right there, guiding her. It is just the forceful opening of the meridians. Endure it, Ling’er.’

Inside the room, Alaric was smiling like a demon. He had just successfully linked the clinical concept of “applying firm pressure to foundation points” directly to the intense, degrading pleasure of being violently spanked in Gu Ling’s subconscious.

“The blockage is severe in your upper pectoral pathways, Sister,” Ling Ying continued her narration, pacing beside the bed. “The tension there must be kneaded away completely to allow the Qi to rise. Relax your chest.”

Alaric moved swiftly. He slipped his hands underneath Gu Ling’s torso. Because she was lying on her stomach, her massive, incredibly heavy breasts were squished against the mattress. Alaric aggressively grabbed the lush, pale globes of flesh from beneath. He squeezed them with brutal force, his fingers digging into the softness, while his thumbs ruthlessly found her hardening nipples and pinched them sharply.

“MHHMmm! Ahhh… mnnn!” Gu Ling whimpered loudly, her head tossing side to side on the pillows. Her mind was a heavy, foggy mess of overwhelming physical ecstasy. The intense, perverted fondling of her breasts was completely rewiring her brain.

‘She sounds like she is struggling to breathe,’ Feng Xiao worried outside, his spiritual sense trembling. ‘The pectoral expansion must be incredibly suffocating.’

“You are doing wonderfully, Gu Ling,” Ling Ying praised aloud, her voice steady. “Now, we must address the primary Yin Gate. The flow here is incredibly sluggish. Alaric will need to manually manipulate the internal walls of the channel to stimulate the flow. This requires deep, sustained friction. It will feel incredibly hot and overwhelming, but you must let the energy circulate.”

Alaric didn’t hesitate. He slid his hand down the smooth curve of her back, his fingers tracing the deep cleft between her heavily spanked, bright red buttocks. He reached the slick, swollen entrance of her pussy, which was already dripping with arousal from the intense breast stimulation and the spanking.

He plunged two thick fingers directly into her tight, wet core, establishing a rapid, churning, highly explicit rhythm.

“HAAAAAH! OHHHH! AHHHH!” Gu Ling shrieked, a continuous, breathless wail of pure, unadulterated sexual pleasure that echoed loudly in the suite. Her hips bucked wildly against the bed, her inner walls clamping down around his fingers in desperate, spasming contractions.

Feng Xiao’s eyes widened in the dark training ground, sweat beading on his forehead. ‘Heavens… her cries… the pain must be absolute agony. I have never heard her sound so broken. He is pushing her foundation to the absolute limit!’

Inside the suite, Alaric was a maestro of corruption. He continued to mercilessly tease her core, his thumb aggressively rubbing her clitoris, pushing her right to the very edge of a massive, earth-shattering climax using only his hands, all while Ling Ying provided a continuous, clinical narration of ‘Qi flow’ and ‘meridian expansion’.

He was thoroughly, systematically training her subconscious. He was planting instructions so deep within her mind that eventually, even without using any spells or intoxicating nectar, he could simply give her a command—like telling her to strip naked and open her Yin Gate—and her mind would instantly, automatically associate it with this profound medical necessity, making her think it was only natural to obey, regardless of her feelings for Feng Xiao.

“The circulation is nearing its peak,” Ling Ying announced, her voice calm despite watching Alaric completely defile the princess. “Hold the energy, Sister. Let it settle.”

Alaric abruptly pulled his fingers out, denying her the final release.

Gu Ling let out a whining, frustrated whimper, her body twitching heavily on the bed, her mind screaming for the friction to return.

Alaric smoothly pulled her white silk robe back down, covering her bare ass and legs. He lifted his hands, his violet magical aura flaring slightly as he severed the Subconscious Weaving Hex.

The heavy, intoxicating trance instantly lifted from Gu Ling’s mind.

She gasped, her eyes flying open, her senses flooding back to reality. She lay on the bed, her chest heaving, her entire body slick with a heavy sheen of sweat. Her breathing was ragged, and a profound, aching, incredibly desperate throb radiated from between her thighs.

“The session is complete, Sister Gu,” Ling Ying smiled warmly, stepping forward to hand her a damp cloth. “You did exceptionally well. Your Qi flow is magnificent.”

Gu Ling sat up slowly, her mind completely clear, but entirely devoid of the horrific, perverted reality of what had just occurred. She only remembered the profound, clinical instructions Ling Ying had spoken, and the intense, seemingly miraculous physical sensations that accompanied them.

“It was… it was incredibly intense, Sister Ying,” Gu Ling breathed, wiping her flushed face, a genuine look of awe in her ethereal eyes as she looked at Alaric, who was casually washing his hands in a silver basin. “I… I feel as though my entire foundation has been rewired. The… the manipulation of the Yin Gate… it was overwhelming.”

“It is a necessary burden for absolute power, Princess,” Alaric replied modestly, turning to offer her a charming smile.

Outside in the training grounds, Feng Xiao let out a massive, relieved sigh, withdrawing his spiritual sense completely. The ordeal was over. His beloved had survived the agonizing therapy, her foundation undoubtedly stronger. He smiled into the darkness, completely, utterly oblivious to the fact that his greatest rival had just permanently programmed his White Moonlight to spread her legs on command.