Seducing a hot swedish blonde and taking over his cheating wife's millions

The Museum of Broken Wills – A Demon’s Professional Playground

The Artifact Whisperer – Stefano’s Professional Masquerade

Torino's Egyptian Museum hummed with the quiet reverence of scholars and the restless energy of tourists. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting golden rectangles across the ancient relics—stone tablets etched with forgotten spells, amulets pulsing with residual magic, and the mummified remains of priests who once communed with gods now lost to time.

"Here we go."

Stefano adjusted his tie, his fingers brushing the Osiris ring as he strode past the exhibit on Funerary Rites of the New Kingdom. His polished Oxfords clicked against marble, the sound sharp amidst the murmuring crowd. To the world, he was Dr. Stefano Bianchi, a respected Egyptologist specializing in dynastic transitions.

To the ring—he was something far darker.

A tall, willowy blonde in a cream sundress lingered near the Book of the Dead display, her Nordic features alight with fascination. Her name was Ingrid—Stefano knew this before she even spoke. The ring whispered it to him, along with other delicious morsels:

Stockholm. 28 years old. Recently single. A latent submissive streak buried under feminist ideals.

Stefano’s lips curled.

Perfect.

THE WEIGHING OF THE HEART

"Excuse me."

Her voice was soft, accented—Swedish, maybe Norwegian—and it cut through the silence of the exhibit hall like a knife through silk.

Stefano turned, his gold-flecked hazel eyes locking onto hers with calculated intensity.

"Yes?"

The Nordic beauty gestured to a hieroglyphic panel, her lithe fingers trembling just slightly. "Could you explain this translation? The guidebook is… unclear."

He stepped closer, his shoulder brushing hers, the heat of his body radiating against her skin. His voice dropped to a velvet murmur, the kind that slid into the ears and coiled in the mind like smoke.

"This section details the Weighing of the Heart ritual." His fingers grazed the glass case, his hypnotic rings catching the light just so. "The deceased’s soul was judged by Anubis. If their heart was heavier than the feather of Ma’at…" He paused, letting the implication hang. "Well. Let’s just say the Devourer was not kind."

Ingrid swallowed, her pulse fluttering at her throat.

Stefano leaned in, his breath warm against the young blonde vixen's ear. "Tell me, Ingrid… do you fear judgment?"

Her breath hitched. "H-How did you—"

"—know your name?" He smiled, slow and knowing. "The gods whisper to those who listen."

Ingrid's pupils dilated filling her blue eyes, the lithe beauty's luscious lips parting as the first tendrils of his demonic influence wrapped around her mind.

THE FIRST FRAGILE YIELD

Stefano didn’t rush.

Hypnosis was an art, and he was learning.

"Any craft needs respect to be properly mastered."

The middle-aged archeologist let his voice sink deeper, his words weighted with suggestion, his presence unavoidable, magnetic.

"You’re tired, aren’t you?" His thumb brushed her wrist, the incubus' touch electric, deliberate. "Traveling alone… no one to take care of you."

Ingrid swayed, her knees weakening, her thoughts fogging.

"Your skin is so cold." His fingers trailed up her arm, his hypnotic rings pulsing with every movement. "Let me warm you."

A shudder ran through her.

"Y-Yes…" she slurred, her resistance crumbling like papyrus in flame.

Stefano smiled.

Got her.

THE ALCHEMY OF OBEDIENCE

He guided her toward a secluded alcove behind the Amun-Ra exhibit, his hand resting on the small of her back, his touch burning through the thin fabric of her dress.

The alcove was dark, hidden from security cameras, the only light coming from a single display case illuminating a statue of Bastet. The air here was thicker, heavier, the scent of myrrh more potent.

Stefano turned her to face him, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

"Kneel," he commanded, his voice laced with hypnotic charisma.

Ingrid dropped without hesitation, her sundress pooling around her like melted wax, her blue eyes glazed, fixed on him.

Stefano cupped her chin, his thumb brushing her lower lip.

"Open."

Her mouth parted obediently, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

He unbuttoned his slacks, his cock already hard, thick, glistening at the tip.

"Good girl."

Then he filled her mouth, his length sliding deep, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Ingrid moaned around him, her body pliant, her mind his.

Stefano smiled down at her, his free hand tracing the curve of her cheek.

"Now… let’s see how well you learn."

THE TOURIST'S LESSON – A HYPNOTIC ORAL EDUCATION

The moment Ingrid's knees hit the polished marble floor behind the Amun-Ra exhibit, Stefano knew he had her completely. The Nordic beauty's blue eyes had glazed over like frosted glass, her plump lips parted in perfect submission, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that made her sundress tremble against her flushed skin. The museum's carefully climate-controlled air carried the scent of her arousal – a sweet, musky perfume mingling with ancient stone and the faintest hint of Stefano's cologne.

Stefano's fingers tightened in her hair, not enough to hurt but enough to make her whimper as he guided her face toward his straining erection. The thick vein running along his shaft pulsed visibly beneath the taut skin, the flushed head already glistening with precum that caught the dim exhibit lighting like amber resin.

"Look at me, Ingrid," he commanded, his voice dropping into that velvet register that vibrated through her bones.

Her eyelids fluttered as she fought to obey, the hypnotic rings on his fingers casting subtle prismatic reflections across her face. A thin string of saliva connected her lower lip to her chin as she tilted her head back, her pupils so dilated they nearly swallowed the blue of her irises.

"Good girl," Stefano purred, stroking her cheek with his free hand. "Now open wide."

The first touch of his cockhead against her lips sent a visible shudder through Ingrid's body. Her breath hitched through her nose as he pushed forward, the broad crown stretching her mouth with delicious pressure. A muffled moan vibrated against his flesh as her tongue instinctively flattened to accommodate him, the warm wetness of her mouth making Stefano's abs clench.

"Tighter," he murmured, watching with rapt attention as her lips sealed around him like a living ring of velvet. "Use your tongue."

Ingrid obeyed instantly, her pink muscle curling upward to lap at his sensitive underside in slow, worshipful strokes. The contrast was exquisite – the softness of her tongue against the rigid steel of his erection, the way her throat fluttered as she fought her gag reflex, the tiny tears beading at the corners of her eyes when he pushed deeper.

Stefano groaned low in his chest, his grip tightening in her hair as he began a slow, rhythmic thrusting motion. Each forward push made her nose brush against his trimmed pubic hair, her choked whimpers music to his ears. The wet, obscene sounds of her mouth working him filled the secluded alcove, louder than any whisper in the silent museum.

"Faster," he commanded, watching spit dribble down her chin.

Ingrid's head bobbed with renewed vigor, her hands rising instinctively to clutch at his thighs as she took him deeper with each pass. The stretch made her jaw ache beautifully, her lips reddening from the friction. Stefano could feel her throat muscles spasming around his tip when he pushed particularly deep, the vibrations making his balls tighten.

A particularly rough thrust had her gagging properly, her nails digging into his slacks as tears finally spilled over. Stefano chuckled darkly, using his grip on her hair to hold her still as he fucked her face in short, punishing strokes.

"Breathe through your nose, sweetheart," he cooed, watching her nostrils flare as she struggled to comply. "Take it all like a good little tourist."

The humiliation burned through Ingrid's **** mind even as her body betrayed her, her cunt clenching around nothing as drool soaked the front of her sundress. She could feel her makeup running, her carefully styled hair coming undone in Stefano's merciless grip, but the hypnotic compulsion kept her mouth open and willing.

When Stefano finally pulled back to let her gasp for air, strings of saliva and precum stretched between her swollen lips and his glistening cock. Her chest heaved as she panted, her tongue lolling slightly as she stared up at him with glassy devotion.

"Clean me," he ordered, tapping his shaft against her flushed cheek.

Ingrid leaned forward obediently, her pink tongue extending to lap up every drop of bitter precum from his throbbing length. She worked from base to tip with kittenish licks, her nose wrinkling slightly at the musky taste but never stopping, never disobeying.

*Schluck*

*Schluck*

When she reached the swollen head, she sealed her lips around it and sucked gently, her blue eyes rolling back slightly at Stefano's approving groan.

"Such a perfect mouth," he praised, petting her hair as she worshiped his cock. "You were made for this, weren't you?"

The words sank into her fogged mind like stones in water, the hypnotic suggestion taking root even as her jaw ached and her throat burned. The hot blonde slut nodded eagerly around his girth, the vibrations making Stefano's thighs tremble.

*Glock!*

*Glock!!*

It was when he suddenly shoved her back onto the marble floor and stood over her that Ingrid truly understood her place. His shadow loomed over her as he stroked himself, his hazel eye glowing faintly in the dim light as precum dripped onto her upturned face.

"Open," he commanded, and her mouth fell open instantly, her tongue extending in offering.

The first hot spurt hit the back of her throat, the salty bitterness made Ingrid's eyes water as she instinctively swallowed.

"Hmmmph! S-so much..."

The next painted her tongue white, the thick viscosity coating her taste buds as Stefano groaned above her. By the third pulse, Ingrid was gagging slightly, her chin and chest splattered with his release as her sundress grew damp between her thighs from her own untouched arousal.

"I hope you enjoyed your meal."

Stefano sighed contentedly as he tucked himself back into his slacks, watching Ingrid lap weakly at the mess on her face. Her movements were sluggish, her mind still swimming in the fog of hypnosis and pleasure as she cleaned herself with trembling fingers.

"Stand up," he murmured, helping her to unsteady feet. With careful hands, he smoothed her hair and straightened her dress, his touch gentle now that his hunger had been sated. "You'll remember this as the most interesting museum tour you've ever had."

Ingrid nodded dreamily, her lips still slightly parted, her breath still uneven. The suggestion settled into her mind like a stone sinking into a lake – unquestionable, absolute.

Stefano adjusted his cufflinks with a satisfied smile as he guided the pretty Nordic beauty back toward the main exhibit hall. The ring's secrets remained safe, and he had gained another perfect plaything.

The artifacts weren't the only treasures in these halls.

The Office Experiment – Mind Reading and ****

Later, in his office, Stefano lounged in his leather chair, his feet propped on the desk as his colleague—Dr. Elias Carrera—rambled about funding cuts.

"The board’s being unreasonable," Elias grumbled, running a hand through his thinning hair. "We need that grant for the Saqqara dig."

Stefano smirked. The ring vibrated against his finger, feeding him Elias’s real thoughts:

"My wife’s fucking her yoga instructor. I know it. I saw the texts." Damn, seems like cheating had become a norm as of late. Well, that doesn't mean I'm letting Jessica off the hook...

"Perhaps you should take a vacation," Stefano suggested, swirling his espresso. "Somewhere warm. Even join your wife’s yoga sessions."

Elias stiffened. "W-What?"

"Relax, friend." Stefano’s voice dripped with false sympathy as the ring pulsed. "Infidelity is… natural. Like the Nile’s floods. Unstoppable. Inevitable."

Stefano couldn't help but remember how the Aswan Dam did stop the flooding in the end... Well, Elias' wife could enjoy a cooperating cuckold now at least.

Elias’s jaw clenched—then slackened, his eyes glazing as Stefano’s suggestion took root.

"Inevitable…" he echoed.

Stefano chuckled.

"Open your mind Elias, open your marriage too since you are there..."

As he walked away the incubus sensed his colleague's righteous rage turn into lustful arousal... Maybe he should start doing couple therapy. The last thing Stefano heard was Elias speaking on the phone with his cheating wife.

"Hello, Anna? About that yoga retreat you were speaking what if..."

Another mind bent.

The Final Command – Jessica’s Financial Enslavement

That evening, Stefano returned home to find Jessica on her knees, scrubbing the kitchen tiles with military precision. Her red hair was tied back, the slutty housewife's blouse damp with sweat, her thighs streaked with dried arousal.

She didn’t look up as he entered.

Good.

Stefano circled her like a vulture, his voice a hypnotic purr. "Jessica."

She froze. "Master?"

The word sent a thrill down his spine.

"Stand."

Jessica obeyed, the voluptuous milf's body trembling, her eyes glazed but aware—a prisoner behind her own pupils.

Stefano cupped her chin, the ring burning against her skin. "You’ve been a bad wife. A cheating wife." His grip tightened. "But now… you’ll fix it."

Jessica whimpered, her mind battling the command—

—until the ring flared, and her resistance shattered.

"Y-Yes…"

"Transfer everything," Stefano ordered. "Stocks. Accounts. All of it. Except the Jamaica villa."

Jessica’s fingers twitched toward her laptop, her body moving on autopilot as she liquidated 20 million euros of her life’s work into his name.

Stefano watched, enthralled, as his once-dominant wife erased herself—one transaction at a time.

The Daughter’s Corruption – Rebecca’s Forbidden Fascination

Rebecca leaned in the doorway, her breath ragged, her fingers slipping beneath her panties as she watched her once haughty, confident mother destroy herself.

"D-Dad…" she panted. "What are you... Is mom ok?"

Stefano turned, his grin feral. "Yes, princess. I’m just setting her free." He stalked toward Rebecca, his voice dropping to a growl. "Do you want to be free?"

Rebecca moaned, the slender vixen's hips rolling, her cunt dripping as her father’s power washed over her.

The hunt wasn’t over.

It had only just begun.

The Jamaica villa awaits—but who will Stefano bring there?