Wanda Croft (20), the lady of the manor (❤ )

So far, your trip into Mesmer's Manor had revealed very little to befit its enigmatic reputation and the buzz of public curiosity that surrounded it. Finally, in this third floor study uniquely outfitted with its own fireplace, you felt like you were getting a look at a locale to match the legends. The woman was either very well read or she was a collector of books on top of artifacts, because every one of the tall shelves lining the study was jam-packed with books bearing incredibly bizarre titles like "The Rings of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor," "A Study on Pendulum Stones," and "All About Your Grandfather's Ancestral Pocketwatch." Some looked well-read, others barely touched, but it wasn't your place to snoop into something like that too closely. The lighting in this room didn't seem ideal for perusing the books, although there was a sizable lamp on the desk and candles by the fireplace that would make it easier once you pulled a book from the shelves. Of course, if you did pull a book, you'd half expect that the bookshelf would swing outward and reveal a secret passage, the bane of all detectives.

The room's large, mahogany desk drew most of the light, but the hostess wasn't seated in the red leather chair behind it. Rather, her figure stood beneath the fireplace, cloaked so thoroughly in shadow with only the rim-lighting from the fire that you could barely make her out. You squinted and approached slowly, finding yourself on-edge; one of the downsides of associated with the dangerous types you often confronted, perhaps.

Above the silhouette, a large, gold-framed painting commanded you to look upward. An older woman, albeit a rather foxy fifty, was pictured there, with long black hair, surprisingly falling all around her shoulders instead of held up in a bun, and streaked here and there with gray. The smile on her face was less Mona Lisa and more captured mid-laughter and despite the smile lines about her mouth and at the corners of her eyes, there seemed to be something mocking there, not genial. Her attire consisted of a high-necked, purple dress, embroidered with gold and adorned with white frills-- the kind of thing you only wear for a fancy professional portrait. This was not a depiction of Wanda Croft, but perhaps her mother, the late Elizabeth Croft, who'd left her child this vast estate. The painting's jewel-like eyes seemed to follow you.

You heard the wind whipping the tall glass window facing outside and ignored the scratching of an untrimmed, leafless tree against the side of the house... frankly, a real oversight by the groundskeeper considering how essential quiet ought to be for the study. Perhaps whoever was in charge of such matters never made it up to the third floor to learn the noise was such a menace. The woman standing by the fire had gone deathly quiet, like she was trying to creep you out.

"Ahem, Miss Croft?" you began again, hoping to engage with the friendly invitation you'd heard a moment ago, instead of this oppressive silence. "My name is Malcolm Wolf, as I surmise you know. I'm a guest of Miss Linda Catz, the writer. I thank you for your invitation-"

Before you could get any further, the lights in the room suddenly flickered, then extinguished. Enough of the detective was active in you to realize the oddity of that. Not just the electric lights had gone out, but also the candles near the fireplace and even the fireplace itself. The room was instantly colder, unfit for the weather, but the woman made no reaction at all.

"Miss Croft!" you shouted again, begging for some response. Was she dead? Had this turned into an old-fashioned **** case?

You shielded your eyes as the room began to flash with a sort of pink strobe light effect, almost blindingly bright, and centered on the point where you'd seen the lady of the house standing. A sound accompanied the light show like the chime of bells, loud enough as though you were inside actually inside a bell-tower, but with no discernible point of origin, causing you to switch to covering your ears. In the flashes of pink light, you saw the woman turning to stare at you. Her eyes were half-open and reflected in them you saw not the light of the room, but a sort of infinite spiral in pink. Her expression was otherwise vacant with a trail of drool beginning to form at one corner of her mouth. It was surprising she was even standing, with a face that could only be suited for sleep. She stepped forward with her arms out like a zombie and clapped both hands onto your shoulder for stability, falling forward so her head rested upon your shoulder. Her hair was incredibly soft and smelled wonderful, with a sort of lilac scent, like new shampoo.

You were torn between two instincts. One told you to get distance immediately-- a guy like you had no business getting this intimate with a woman like her, especially while you were still strangers. The one that won out, however, was the one that told you to be a gentleman. The woman would have to be distressed after whatever just happened and she was evidently clinging to you for support, practically ready to collapse onto the old-fashioned, pink-red shag carpet of the study. You held her upright, supporting her with one arm around the waist and one hand clasped at her upper arm.

"I'm going to light a candle," you informed her, setting her down in one of the chairs by the fireside and then retrieving a match from your coat pocket. You lit it, then ignited two of the candles you could vaguely make out in the darkness of the room.

To this point, you'd been experiencing too much of an adrenaline rush to really focus on the lady of the house herself. Now, you had your opportunity, and what you saw only raised more questions.

Wanda had her mother's long, luxurious and straight black hair, but you guessed her father must have been an Asian man; she had mostly eastern facial features, albeit with a slightly pale skin tone befitting her mother's. Her expression was still zonked out and she barely seemed to register you, but her face was still rather pretty, with long eyelashes, purple eye-liner, and a unique deep purple shade of lipstick. You got the odd impression looking at her lower row of teeth, visible in her slack-jawed expression, that her teeth were pointed into fangs. Her attire was also very different from her mother's. Frankly, it looked like she'd arranged to meet you in her bathrobe. It was high quality, soft purple-dyed fur, maybe a little too big for her... but it was definitely a bathrobe, which the slight slump away from her bare shoulder made clear. Her body was extremely slender-- she didn't have the eye-catching bust-line of her mother, and instead a more doll-like shape.

You realized now that she'd been holding a wine glass. It had fallen to the floor and was undoubtedly on its way to staining the carpet. "Should I ring for the maid?" you asked, unaware if there was actually a bell to ring for such a purpose. There had to be, right?

"No... don't... you and me... the two of us... alone together..." the woman's voice returned, sounding different from how it had just a moment ago. Her voice sounded...

Hypnotized.

Pieces of a puzzle were starting to present themselves, but the image was totally unclear. Here, in Mesmer's Mansion, a "mesmerizing" had clearly just taken place in front of your eyes. The means by which it had been accomplished were unclear, as shrouded in mystery as the motivation. You'd doubted any of this magical mumbo jumbo before coming here, but if the woman was pulling an act, it was an incredibly convincing one full of visual and audible elements you had no way of explaining.

"The desk... look at... the box..."

You obliged, walking over and grabbing a black box a little larger than your hand off of the surface. It looked like one you might get from a jeweler with a gift for your hypothetical wife. You opened it cautiously, then set it back down. Inside was an empty setting for a large ring, recently removed by the looks of the indentation. Next to that, another ring still sparkled, engraved with images of a prowling bear and green gemstones in the shape of stars above its head.

"Ring... of Ursa Minor... Wear it..."

She was asking you... to wear this valuable ring? It looked like it was part of her artifact collection and like it might be valued higher than your net worth as a detective. It was so important to the Crofts that they owned a book about it. She really wanted you to wear that? Out of curiosity, you inspected her fingers with a quick glance, but saw no ring to match this one. Whatever the case, she appeared to be the victim here, not the perpetrator. It was possible this ring was some key to helping her out of the state she'd been captured in. For now, you'd put aside your skepticism and go along with her request.

Only, once you slipped the ring easily onto your finger, finding that it was surprisingly well-fitted to the thicker ring-finger of a man, the ring shimmered emerald green... and then vanished into thin air, like magic.

Your first instinct was to apologize. You had no idea that was going to happen and no clue how to restore the ring to its box. This instinct had you totally unprepared for what was coming next, as Wanda Croft charged you, tackling you with enough **** and intent to topple your larger, heavier body backward onto the desk behind you. You grunted in pain as she straddled your abdomen, not because she was heavy-- quite the opposite-- but because the angle was extremely uncomfortable and the wood very hard.

Speaking of hard wood, you realized with some alarm that your erection was beginning to spring into action. That was largely owing to the woman's attire, or lack thereof. The motion just now had loosened the robe's waistband and opened up the lapels on the front. You could see more than any guest of the house ought to, from her small, perky breasts to the slight black bush between her legs. That spot was now grinding back and forth against the lump at the front of your pants. The expression on her face, formerly half-asleep, now looked significantly closer to her mother's in the portrait. You recognized it now for what it was: a predatory creature sizing up her next meal.

Was this why she'd arranged for you to meet her alone? Just to seduce you? All those elaborate tricks, just for this? Your hands didn't know where to go. Pushing her off seemed just as impolite as exploring her body, so you clutched them both onto the desk while urging her to control herself.

Wanda's voice came out in a coy purr of whimsical satisfaction, making her sound happy she was the cat in this game of cat and mouse. Her body was slender, light, and fleet like a cat's as well-- you could practically visualize a tail swaying behind her as she switched her hips from side to side, jostling your penis. "Mr. Wolf... that's a truly impressive cock you have. Strong and quick to ready. Virile. You're going to be an excellent pawn in my master's game," she laughed, now leaning forward to press the modest swells of her breasts against your chest and whisper directly into your ear. "I like that mind of yours, too. What I've seen of it so far. What I've heard of from others, hm hm hm..."

"Your master? What are you talking about? You're the lady of the house!" you attempted to correct her, while now using your hands to grab her shoulders and lift her slightly off your body, as much as you could while being gentle.

"Yes, I am. But I am also now a servant. I am a servant of the one who wields the Ring of Ursa Major, one of the most powerful mind control devices in my storied collection," she explained, stealing a few quick kisses upon your hand. When you didn't object to that, she grabbed one finger between her lips and began to suck it, her mesmerized, sparkling pink eyes following your own dilated, confused ones. The sucking you did object to and you rapidly freed your finger with a pop, causing her to break out into a grin that showed the fangs you'd just extracted your digit from between. "You're holding yourself back. Don't. After all... this demonstration is partially for your benefit."

"My benefit...? You and your master don't even know me!" you returned.

"Hm hm hm hm!" the woman cackled, then ran her tongue over her lips, as though to savor the flavor she'd gotten from your flesh. "You're a detective, right? You figure it out. Or are you going to leave it up to Miss Langley?"

"I don't even know who that is!" you protested, now rising back to your feet while you still had the opportunity.

"Nevermind that for now. Allow me to give you some hints about how you can play the game," Wanda chuckled, while sitting her bare bottom down upon the desk as you backed away. The robe was nearly off of her now, barely holding to her hips as it fell entirely away from her slim shoulders and petite bosom. "The Ring of Ursa Minor is a less powerful version of my master's artifact, a companion piece, you might say. While Ursa Major can control others from a distance nearly the width of my entire mansion, Ursa Minor only works in a short distance, a few feet from your target. It cannot override the control of one already affected by Ursa Major. However, it is still quite strong! With its magic, you can put others into a temporary, trance-like state, **** them to tell the truth, influence their behaviors... quite useful for a detective, isn't it? Especially such a handsome, unmarried detective as yourself, hm hm hm... "

"How do I do any of that?"

"It's as simple as snapping with the fingers of the hand wearing the ring... although, you may notice that you are now not so much 'wearing' it. It has become a rune etched upon your very soul. Difficult to explain, but the important detail is this: it will only come off when you identify and confront the wielder of the Ring of Ursa Major."

"What's my incentive? This isn't a 'case' I'm on. I'm a detective, but this is far beyond my experience. I'm out of my depth here."

"Your incentive?" the lady cackled, covering her mouth with one hand to hide an unladylike snort of laughter. "Well, I can offer you two. Firstly, I am not the last victim. During your stay here, the owner of the Ring of Ursa Major-- my master, one of the women inside the house-- intends to enslave more of the guests that have been summoned here. Those of you here will find you can no longer leave. Modern technology you brought with you will not call out and there will be no other boats to visit. In short, if you do not solve the mystery, then by the time the ferry comes to rescue you this Friday, every one of you could be a ****."

Her words were concerning. It wasn't just your own safety you were worried about; Linda was here on the island as well. "What's stopping your master from making us all mind controlled slaves right this second?"

"Sportsmanship." A wolfish grin came over her face again as her fingers ran across the cool, smooth surface of the desk.

"You said there were two incentives. What's the other one?"

"Ah, leave it to a detective to press for every little detail." She leaned back on the desk, spreading her legs as she spoke to let you see the moist slit between them as she spoke. "I'll elaborate. My third floor is off limits to my ten butlers. The only ones who've been up here all day are me, my maid, four other guests I invited... and you, the fifth. When all of the others met me, I was in as sound a mind as I normally would be. You'll confirm this later when you speak to them. The first one to see me this way... horny out of my mind, lusting with a single-minded desire for your cock... is you, my dear Malcolm. You understand what I'm getting at, don't you? The one with the clearest motive here is you. You're the primary culprit."

You gulped nervously, staring at your own shaking hands, one of which had just been magically affected by the Ring of Ursa Minor. That ring hadn't just been a gift-- it would further implicate you as the obvious culprit behind the mind control mystery at play here, if anyone ever found out about it. Unless you could convince the other guests otherwise, you were going to be suspect number one.

You were still staring at your hands as she further explained the situation.

"Don't worry about my servants. I'll be personally warning them not to take action. You don't want any backseat detective work, right? It's the other guests you have to worry about, ha ha! My hands are tied when it comes to them!"

As she said that, the cloth belt of her robe suddenly wrapped your wrists, quickly binding them together with a coil. She tightened it up, allowing her robe to fall so that she was fully nude in the low candlelight of the study. Her teeth flashed white and her eyes pink as she lifted your hands above your head, hooking the new binding over a wall-mounted lamp fixture so that your arms were stuck over your head.

"But it doesn't appear you'll be leaving this room without my say-so... And I'm not nearly satisfied yet. The life of a reclusive occultist is a lonely one. Be the cure for loneliness for me, on this, our first night together..." she cooed, falling to her knees in front of you. Her fingers delicately caressed the outline of your erection, which pressed hard against the front of your trousers. "Why did I allow you to come here with Ms. Catz? Just to play my master's game. And because I want to suck the big, thick dick of a private dick, hm hm hm!"

With no further ado, the hypnotized Wanda Croft unzipped the front of your pants, then fished inside to free your vein-lined rod from inside. Her eyes curled into happy crescents as she admired it, tracing its surface with the tips of her long, purple nails. She put her upper lip to its surface and inhaled the scent. "Mmmm... You've washed as well... and thoroughly. Expecting some action tonight, were you?"

You didn't want to tell her that there'd been a part of you hoping your visit with Ms. Catz would turn into something more between the two of you.

"Not thinking about anyone special? Then you won't mind giving me the first taste..." she cooed, giving a few tender kisses that left stains of purple lipstick along your shaft's length and upon the tip of the head. She licked up it up and down for a moment or two, flicking her tongue in a teasing way as she reached the head. You wondered if this was attributable to the experience of a practiced cock-sucker, or if the ring had somehow bestowed her with a newfound gift for it? Either way, it was enough to make you want to cum already... your precum was already leaking out and your cock was twitching, threatening to release upon the carpet of the study. "Much, much too early, Mr. Wolf. You're what, eight years my senior? Please, be the veteran between the two of us and hold it for me a bit longer."

You probably could have pulled your hands free from the lamp if you really tried, or that failing, the lamp fixture free from the wall-- you had pretty decent strength. You could have even resisted with your lower body. The time for that was passed-- her passionate blowjob was no longer a torment you wished to resist. It had put you in a state near hypnosis yourself and you'd surrendered yourself to it. When Wanda's lips settled in an O around the head of your cock, then pushed forward, beckoning you inside of her throat, the question burned in your mind all the more... Why would the culprit grant you a gift like this? Just for the sake of setting you up? Because they liked you? Because they hated Wanda? It was impossible to come up with the answers, especially distracted like you were.

Her hot breath surrounded your cock and her tongue lapped underneath as she deep-throated your penis. Not content with just that, she lifted a hand to fondle your ballsack at the same time, her eyes smiling tighter as she did, as though she was begging you to compliment her on her blowjob. You didn't do that, but you did finally free your hands, then placed them atop her scalp, as though intending on patting her head for job well done. Instead of doing that, you used your grip to guide her and dictate her timing, making her stroke you just the way you liked it. You groaned with satisfaction at her killer technique. Her princess-like, lengthy black hair dragged the carpet as you pulled her back and forth.

The eyes of the lady's mother were still watching you from the portrait hanging above the fireplace, and if anything, you sensed satisfaction in her mirthful expression. Quite a kinky feeling, being spurred on by the mother this way.

You needed more answers from Wanda, but with her mouth full of your manhood, she was in no state to provide them. If she wasn't going to give you anything, you'd give her something instead. With another heavy grunt, you grasped the fingers of each hand into her silky hair, then pushed forward, releasing deep inside the throat of a woman several orders of magnitude richer and more powerful than you were, now reduced to your blowjob buddy by some unknowable magic. You didn't hold back for the sake of being a gentleman, either-- rope after rope of jizz shot into this relative stranger's throat.

When you were finished and spent, she purred again with satisfaction and drew backward, falling onto her butt upon the carpet. Wanda opened her mouth and lolled out her tongue to show you how much you'd deposited, then closed her mouth and chewed it with satisfaction. When she opened her smeared purple lips again and stuck out her tongue between her fanged teeth, it was clean of your semen, all swallowed up. She closed her teeth into a grin. "Hm hm hm... How odd, for a guest to serve a feast for his host! Talk about making a first impression."

You were sweating, unsure whether to laugh along or panic. With the high of the situation fading, you were increasingly worried about how you'd escape being named the obvious culprit behind tonight's events. Then again... maybe the rest of them didn't have to know. If you could slip out and lock her inside somehow-

Before you could think about that any further, the doors to the room opened with no knock. Another woman, unfamiliar, was standing in the doorway.

-- The first victim has been discovered!--

--Check notes in the game tab--