Chương 944: Chapter 943: Peraza Hall

Myrathra Dawnstar The carriage stopped, and a stunning woman stepped out of it. The woman appeared to be in her late thirties; she was older, but she carried herself with a skill that seemed to steal a few years from her face. I am quite envious of it. She is a tall woman with dark purple hair, a square jaw, and cheekbones that don't soften her face but instead structure it, casting a subtle shadow that shifts with every turn of her head.

She is an unmistakably beautiful woman, but there is also something handsome about her. It is that feature that made not only men but also women fall for her. She is Peraza Hall, one of the few women I choose to call a friend. Her eyes fell on me, and she gave her enchanting smile, before a ripple of surprise appeared on those ocean-blue eyes of hers, and she looked around.

"It's quite a place you have." She said with her eyes turning back to me.

"Isn't it?" I asked back and appeared in front of her before hugging her. She was supposed to arrive weeks ago, but that old woman threw a tantrum, which delayed her arrival.

"When you told me you were leaving Archmage City for this backwater place, I thought you would come running back within months, but looking at you now, it seems like returning to Archmage City is the last thing on your mind," she said. I let out a laugh hearing that, because it's true. There is no place like Archmage City, but despite that, I love it here. I feel happy. Here, I feel a purpose, I have never felt in my life, not to mention joy and fulfillment.

I had come here for aura; I had become obsessed with it in Archmage City, but now I rarely think about it. There is barely any time to think about it with all the things I have to worry about.

"You are right," I replied, and she smiled, but there was something more in it: curiosity.

"Now, tell me why you brought me here? You have been quite vague about it," she asked.

"Soon," I replied. She just looked at me before turning her eyes, taking the college and legacy at a distance.

"There are a lot of mist plants here; the last time I had seen them was in the greenhouses of Archmage Tower," she said, looking at the mist plants.

"I know, and I was quite envious of it," I replied. She has a powerful Mage obsessed with her. To impress her, he had taken her to see the mist plants in the Archmage Tower. A few could get such a chance. In a few months, everybody who visits Greltheaven will have that experience. She looked at them, breathed in their scent, and looked around.

"All of them are whores, right?" She asked, looking at the woman in the garden.

"Yes," I replied. She looked at them. I could feel her activating the skill. She has a skill that lets her sense others' levels. It's quite a rare skill, and another thing, I am envious of. Though a moment later, a surprise appeared on her face.

"There is a protection!" she said.

"If you are not Lv. 40, don't even try it," I replied, to which she glared at me. That is still a sore subject for her! I don't know whether it is Silver's skill or a Legacy's skill, but the protection is powerful. Even at Lv. 40, one couldn't gauge much about the girls or anything related to Velvet Garden. Even the city has gained this resistance. Soon, we reached my office and stepped inside.

"It pales compared to your old office. Couldn't they give you a nicer one?" She said, and I smiled. This is my second office; the first one is in the academic building. I decorated it beautifully. I didn't have time to do that with this one yet. It is the last priority with all the work I have.

"It's nice enough," I replied, a little defensively. It is a nice office, the only thing that it didn't have was personal touches.

"Now, are you going to tell me why you brought me here?" She asked, her eyes turning serious.

"I had told you I had brought you for your specialty, but here, there will be no restrictions. You will explore it fully and teach it to others," I replied, and she just looked. I smiled and slid the file toward her. She looked at me for a moment longer before taking the file and starting to read it. For a minute, there was barely anything before her expressions started to change. Each page seemed to affect them, and her eyes became more focused on them. The file gives a basic overview for her"Dominatrix?"

she said a few minutes later, with her eyes shining.

"Or Dom, quite a good word. I wonder how he even thought about it." There are many things I wonder about how he thought them up. I am not convinced all of it comes from some ancient book. Or maybe it is a skill. There are skills that connect one to historical knowledge. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work! They are very rare, but they exist.

"What do you think?" I asked as she set the file down.

"I first thought you were trying to create an open brothel, but this is different and not at all like one," she replied softly. I had the same doubts. It took me a few days to come to terms with it. Even now, I don't understand everything. I am learning them as I move forward.

"It's about respect, control, and consent. Starkly different from abominations practiced in Baxzar," I replied. The more I work on it, the more I realize. How different it is from the open brothels; I would even say it is exactly the opposite of them. Project Scarlet is everything that those abominations are not.

"Do you want to see something wonderful?" I asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. She had a long travel, and I should let her rest, but I want to show it to her. It's amazing, there are so many things our people have created, and I want to get her view on it.

"Sure," she replied with some hesitation. She was always a confident woman, which is what made her great at what she does; the reason I asked for her, but it had made her nervous. That is good, because if she hadn't been even a little bit apprehensive, it would have been me who would have been nervous. Silver has mentioned specific criteria people need for it. If we didn't choose the right people, it would all go to hell; that is not something we want. It could have far-reaching consequences.

I got up, and we walked out of my office before opening the door on the left and walking into the basement.

"You are not one of those who keep people in the basement, right?" she asked, and I laughed. There is a mirth, but also a sadness. A few women I know were sold to the merchant. A few months later, they were found dead in his basement in horrendous conditions. Nothing happened to that man, not even a single day in jail. I felt grateful to Silver when he banned the sale and keeping of prostitute contracts to individuals. Only brothels could buy them. Soon, we reached the wooden door.

I took out the key and inserted it, then twisted it, hearing the clicking sound. I didn't push open the door. Instead, turned to the woman behind me with a smile.

"Ready?" I asked. She just kept looking at me.

"You are no fun, Peraza," I said, pushing open the door and stepping into a large hall. It is beautiful. It looked like a high-end store. The hall contains many things, including strange furniture and objects I had not seen until Remus's drawing. I don't think they ever existed in this form before we made them. I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a gasp behind me. I turned and saw her looking at the things with eyes wide open. I have never seen her like this.

Even the mist plant garden wasn't enough to faze her, but this place did. Her eyes moved across the hall, looking at the things in there. Restraint table to bondage cross to tools like floggers, ticklers, blindfolds, and collars. She looked at it, with her eyes stopping at one corner over and over. It took a few minutes before she finally opened her mouth.

"Why so much leather?" she said, and I let out a laugh, because it was the same question I had asked Silver. Why leather? He said, ' It's a symbol of the place we are trying to create. It isn't just a material-it's a language. It speaks of restraint and permission at the same time. It reminds you that the power isn't taken here; it's given, shaped, and returned.' Those words, I still don't fully understand. So, I pushed them away and turned to my friend.

She walked toward the tools, began looking at them, touching them.

"Is this going to be used on a person?" She asked, her hand gently touching a riding crop, one of the few things in here that belonged to the real world and kept its original shape. Nearly original shape; this one is more delicate and made for people, not a horse. Though far stronger than a regular riding crop. It is made from high-quality material and is hand-crafted.

"Yes," I replied. She walked by everything, and I am glad. She only looked at things; some things in there would make even me blush. Finally, she stopped and looked at three things in front of her. It was what she had been constantly looking at: three mannequins wearing dominatrix suits. All three are different designs and scandalous. I am not talking about the skin they show; one of them barely does, but the design of them.

"What do you think?" I asked with bated breath. It would be great if she liked them.

"They are the most beautiful things I have ever seen," she replied in a barely audible voice before slipping her hand across them. There are three of them. The first one on the left is called the Enforcer. It is a full black leather suit from neck to toe, covering arms and legs. It is skin-tight and reflective, designed to catch light with every movement, with seams and panels accenting every part of the body, and boots blending into the suit. It gives the feeling of controlled presence.

That everyone would focus as they entered the room. It's not something one could ignore, even if one wanted to. The middle is called the Mistress. It is a structured leather corset that shapes the torso in deliberate lines. It is paired with the leather skirt, which allows movement without softness. Long gloves extend past the elbows, seamless and exact, with thigh-high boots completing the silhouette. Projecting elegance and command. My eyes turned to the last one, which is called Domina.

It is a leather bodysuit cut with deliberate precision, clinging seamlessly to the form as though it had been shaped directly into it. A vertical slit runs down from the high collar, in measured uniformity. At the top, just beneath the throat, a single beautiful metal clasp holds it all together. The sleeves extend fully, merging with fitted gloves, enforcing the sense that the upper body is encased in one continuous layer. The transition to the legs introduces the contrast.

Argyle stockings begin where the bodysuit ends. The geometric lines stretch even across the surface, each diamond maintaining its shape without distortion. Thigh-high boots rise to meet the hem without flourish. They are structured, exact, and unyielding. They encase the legs in the authority. Their height deliberate, their presence absolute. The suit does not impress. It removes everything unnecessary until only the control remains.

"Do you want to try it?" I asked, and her eyes lit up in pure joy like a child in a confectionery. A moment later, she began to remove her clothes.

"Do it there," I pointed at the dressing screen. She stopped and turned to me with a look. The look that says,'As if we have not seen each other naked hundreds of times?'

"Dressing screen," I stated. The more I worked on Project Scarlet, the more I realized how ritualistic Silver has made it. It has strict rules that represent control, consent, respect, and boundaries. The rules need to be followed like a ritual in prayer to maintain sanctity. She held my gaze for a moment before she sighed, let go of her dress, and turned to the mannequins. I wonder which she will choose first. She looked at all three before she touched the mannequin on the right.

The moment she did, the cloth slid out of it, surprising me.

"I didn't know you had this skill," I said. She is Lv. 39, and had been for many years. So, I am familiar with her skills; this one I am not.

"There are many skills I have that you don't know," she replied with a wicked smile and walked toward the dressing screen. I waited, each moment increasing my excitement. I wanted others to try them, but I waited especially for her. I had them made based on her size. I heard the steps before she revealed herself. A gasp came out of my mouth. She is a friend and not my type, but for a moment I felt attracted to her. I wanted to prostrate in front of her and listen to her every command.

She looked like control incarnate; it felt like she was born to wear this. I have never seen her this naturally comfortable in any clothes as I am seeing her now. The dress hugged her perfectly, moving with her movements, which were filled with authority and power.

"Wow," she said, her eyes wide as she looked at herself in the large mirror, before a beautiful smile appeared on her face, and she turned to me.

"I have never felt one with clothing as I am now. It is a part that I had been missing for all these years," she said, and all I could do was nod. I could feel it, how complete this makes her, and how happy. There is clear joy in her eyes. Now, I want to see how she will do it. I pushed those thoughts as they came; she has a lot to learn before we move on to the people. Silver has been very clear about that.