Seducing Emma, the young trainee. Marina fights back.

The First Floor – A Labyrinth of Desire

Stefano adjusted his tie, his hazel eyes scanning the Queens’ Tombs exhibit. The French high-school class—twenty-three students, mostly girls—lingered near the sarcophagus of Nefertari, their giggles and whispers carrying through the hall.

Susanna, a curvy brunette from archives, shot him a knowing look from across the room.

"You’re glowing, Stefano," she murmured as she passed, the hot milf’s soft contralto low. "New cologne?"

Stefano smirked. "Something like that."

The relic pulsed, its power amplifying his pheromones, weaving them into the very air. The girls’ laughter grew breathier, their postures looser, their eyes lingering on him just a second too long.

Too easy.

The Guided Tour – Hypnotic History

Stefano’s voice was a velvet purr as he led the group through the exhibit, his words dripping with the weight of centuries—and something darker.

"Nefertari was more than a queen," he murmured, his fingers brushing the glass case. "She was a goddess in her own right. A woman who knew her power."

The middle-aged archeologist’s gaze locked onto a blonde near the front—, according to her name tag. Her lips parted, her chest rising just a little faster.

"Can you imagine it?" Stefano leaned closer, his breath ghosting over her ear. "Being worshipped?"

Marie shivered.

Behind her, her teacher—Madame Lefèvre, a stern woman in her forties—frowned.

"Monsieur Bianchi,” she said sharply. "Perhaps we should focus on the artifacts."

Stefano straightened, his smile sharp. "Of course, madame."

But his fingers trailed along Marie’s arm as he stepped away.

The Break Room – A Trainee’s Submission

By midday, the museum was sweltering. Stefano slipped into the staff break room, finding Emma—the youngest of the trainees—alone, her uniform shirt unbuttoned just enough.

"Long shift?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

The slender Filipino beauty glanced up, her dark eyes glazing as the the incubus harnessed Osiris fallen divinity coiling the corruption against her mind.

"Y-Yeah," she stammered, her lithe fingers fidgeting with her collar. "It’s hot today."

Stefano hummed, stepping closer. "Let me help."

His hand brushed the exotic beauty’s neck, the middle-aged archeologist's thumb pressing into her pulse point. Emma gasped, the young intern’s body arching toward him—

—just as the door clicked open.

Antonio, his best friend, froze.

"Am I interrupting?"

Stefano smirked, pulling away. "Just discussing ancient fertility rituals."

Emma’s pretty face flamed.

The Artifact Vault – A Relic’s Call

By closing time, Stefano was aching. The ring’s power had grown heavier, its whispers louder, its hunger mirroring his own.

He slipped into the restricted vault, his fingers trailing over the relics—feeling their history, their lust, their sins.

Then he saw it.

A dagger.

Bronze, its hilt carved into the shape of a serpent. The gems shone with unnatural power

The moment his skin touched it, Osiris’ will screamed in recognition.

"Yes," Stefano growled, his cock stirring. "This will do."

Taking hold of the ancient weapon, Stefano put the bronze ring against the bronze ring. Within moments the short sword’s gleam died off as the fallen divinity feasted on the spiritual remnants, the lingering curse tied to the ancient dagger.

The millennia old hunger awakened more fully, the serpent dagger had been a minor tonic, greater relics were required to fully unlock Osiris’ legacy and become a true champion

---

The Guilt: A Phantom Touch

The rest of the work day passed in a blur of paperwork and half-hearted attempts at productivity. Stefano’s mind kept drifting—back to Maria, to the way her plump thighs quivered when he fucked her hungry neglected pussy, to the way she moaned his name like a vengeful prayer.

He should feel guilty.

But the ring hummed, its power a constant reminder:

You are more than human now.

And humans?

Humans were weak.

---

The Lunch Break: A Taste of Control

The staff cafeteria was crowded, the chatter of coworkers blending into white noise. Stefano sat alone, sipping his espresso, watching.

Testing.

A junior intern—Emma, early twenties, exotic Filipina, nervous—fumbled with her tray, her glasses slipping down her nose.

Stefano focused.

The ring pulsed.

Emma froze, her breath catching.

Look at me

Her head turned, her eyes glazing as they met his.

Come here

She obeyed, her steps slow, dreamlike.

“S-Stefano?” Her voice was small.

He smiled. “You’ve been working so hard, Emma.”

She blushed. “I—I just—”

Touch yourself on your next break

Her breath hitched.

Think of me

Her thick thighs pressed together.

“Th-thank you,” she whispered, stumbling back to her seat, the young woman's pretty face flushed, her lithe fingers trembling.

Stefano took another sip of his coffee.

Too easy

---

The End of Shift: A Promise of Corruption

As Stefano packed his briefcase, Antonio leaned against his desk.

“Dinner. Today,” he reminded him. “Maria’s making osso buco.”

Stefano smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Antonio grinned, clapping him on the back again before heading out.

The moment the door shut, Stefano’s smile vanished.

His phone buzzed.

A text from Maria:

”I need you.”

The Osiris ring flared.

Stefano exhaled.

Soon.

The Web Tightens – A Symphony of Submission and Schemes

The museum’s grand atrium echoed with the fading footsteps of the last tour group, their chatter dissolving into the vaulted ceilings as the golden hour light bled through the stained-glass windows. Stefano lingered by the Isis exhibit, his fingers trailing along the glass case housing the ancient goddess’s funerary mask. The cold surface reflected his sharp features—the calculating glint in his dark eyes, the faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

The Osiris ring pulsed lazily against his finger, a sleeping beast sated for now.

But hunger always returned.

The Intern’s Education

Emma’s nervous shuffling drew his attention before he even turned. The mousy exotic intern clutched a clipboard to her chest like a shield, her oversized cardigan swallowing her frame, her glasses slipping down her nose as she bit her luscious lips.

“S-Stefano?” Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the climate control system. “I—I finished cataloging the Amarna period artifacts, but I wasn’t sure about the—”

“Breathe, Emma.” Stefano’s voice was a velvet command, and she obeyed, her chest rising in a shaky inhale. He stepped closer, close enough to catch the scent of her shampoo—something floral, innocent. “You’re doing excellent work.”

The praise sent a visible tremor through her. The ring thrummed, its power a serpent uncoiling in the space between them.

Look at me

Her wide, hazel eyes snapped up to his, pupils dilating.

Closer

She took an unsteady step forward, her breath hitching as Stefano reached out, tucking a loose strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered on her cheekbone, tracing the faint flush blooming there.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Are you afraid of me?”

“N-no!” The lie was palpable, her pulse fluttering like a trapped bird beneath her skin.

Stefano smiled, his hand sliding down to cradle the back of her neck, his grip just tight enough to make her gasp. “Good girl.”

The clipboard clattered to the floor.

Emma didn’t move to pick it up.

Stefano’s other hand brushed the collar of her cardigan, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric to trace the delicate line of the young Filipina beauty's collarbone. “You’ve been thinking about what I said earlier, haven’t you?”

A whimper escaped her lips.

Tell me

“I—I touched myself,” she confessed in a rush, her face burning. “D-during lunch break. Like you—like you wanted.”

Stefano’s grin was predatory. “And?”

Her thighs pressed together. “I… I came thinking of you.”

The admission hung between them, thick with shame and something far more delicious.

Stefano leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Again tonight,” he commanded, his voice laced with hypnosis. “Harder. And this time…” His hand slid down, cupping her through her skirt, his fingers pressing just enough to make her whine. “Scream my name.”

Emma nodded, her body pliant, her mind his.

---

The Receptionist’s ****

Marina’s stiletto heel cracked against the marble like a gunshot.

Stefano didn’t turn.

“Enjoying yourself, archivist?” Her voice dripped venom, her Russian accent sharpening the edges of every syllable.

He finally glanced over his shoulder, taking in the way her silk blouse strained against her chest, the way her crimson lips curled in disdain.

“Marina.” His tone was mild, amused. “I didn’t hear you approach.”

“No?” She crossed her arms, her nails—blood-red, sharp—tapping against her bicep. “Too busy molesting the interns?”

Emma flinched, scrambling to pick up her clipboard before fleeing toward the exit, her cheeks flushed red.

Stefano watched her go, unbothered. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

Marina’s laugh was brittle. “Please. As if I’d waste energy on you.” But her gaze flickered to his hands, to the way his sleeves were rolled up, revealing the corded strength of the incubus' forearms.

The ring pulsed.

Marina’s breath hitched. Her lithe hands leapt up to her mouth, suppressing a moan..

Stefano stepped into her space, close enough to smell her perfume—expensive, heady, a **** attempt to mask the scent of her husband’s neglect. “You are wasting energy, kotenok,” he murmured, the Russian endearment rolling off his tongue like a threat. “All this anger… when you could be kneeling.”

Her red lips parted.

"Marina will learn her place soon, those cocksucking pillow lips are better put to use between my leg..."

Then she slapped him.

The sound echoed through the atrium. Stefano’s head barely turned from the ****, his cheek stinging, his smile only widening. He liked the fierce ones...

“B-blyat,” she hissed, storming off, her hips swaying with fury—and something else.

Stefano touched his cheek, the middle-aged archeologist's fingers coming away faintly smudged with her lipstick.

Oh, Marina.

This would be fun.

---

The Guard’s Blindness

Antonio found him in the staff lounge, nursing a coffee.

“Damn, Stefano!” He dropped into the chair opposite him, his bulk making the plastic creak. “Marina looked ready to **** someone.”

Stefano shrugged. “She’ll live.”

Antonio snorted, rubbing his beard. “Still. Be careful. Dmitry’s connected.”

“Mm.” Stefano sipped his coffee. “How’s Maria?”

Antonio’s expression softened. “Good. Really good.” He hesitated. “She… she asked if you were bringing anyone to dinner.”

Stefano’s fingers tightened around the cup. “No.” Rebecca would be asleep by the end of today's hypnosis session.

“Ok, my daughter wanted to share some gossip with your sweet Rebecca but I guess it's gonna be just us...” Antonio grinned before his faced darkened as if he had just remembered something nasty. “Ah, Miranda’s bringing her new boyfriend. Some stronzo from her economics class.” He rolled his eyes. “Maria likes him, of course.”

Stefano’s jaw clenched.

Miranda. With another man.

"Not for long..." Stefano was confident in his new means, how could a little university student compare to Osiris Champion? No woman could resist the archeologist's charms anymo-- Ok maybe Jessica, his cheating wife, well, she would come around too one day.

The ring burned.

Antonio, oblivious, checked his watch. “Damn, I’m late for rounds. Tonight, Stefano. Don’t forget.”

Stefano **** a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

Epilogue: The Devil’s To-Do List

As the museum lights dimmed for closing, Stefano lingered in his office, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.

On his desk:

• Emma’s employee file – Her home address circled in red.

• Marina’s schedule – A note about her late shifts this week.

• A dinner invitation – Antonio & Maria Moretti, tonight, 8 PM.

His phone buzzed.

Maria: ”I can’t stop thinking about your 'Menas'.”

Stefano exhaled, slow, controlled. Menas... An ancient Egyptian deity depicted with a raging boner.

It was the cheating wife's codeword for her lover's fat cock.

The game was far from over.