The True Dominator Surpassing the Master
The heavy door to the workshop creaked open as I stepped inside to borrow the blonde doll the Count had rented from the President. The sight that greeted me was a grotesque and utterly depraved den of hedonistic excess. Before the Count, who sat crookedly in his wheelchair, my mother Carna danced a slow, sensual striptease in a flimsy, erotic dancer’s outfit, her eyes completely vacant. It was an exact replica of the dance I had ordered Karin to perform yesterday.
As expected. So that was why the old raccoon had so generously claimed he wouldn’t peep into our room when I tried to corrupt Karin using Camilla and Carna’s yuri scene… He must have been watching every single thing we did in the secret room through some magic tool.
Even in the original novel, voyeuristic magic tools existed that could transmit video in real time, even if sound wasn’t included. The knowledge that someone had been spying on my private training sessions sent a surge of irritation through me, and I clicked my tongue inwardly.
I’ll need to find a different location instead of the mansion’s secret room. I should start planning how to renovate that private quarters in the knight order headquarters I seized from the baron last time.
While pondering countermeasures against this hidden-camera feeling, my gaze drifted to Carna’s smooth, sensually moving lower abdomen.
So this is why a forty-year-old woman in a vegetative state could maintain such an alluring body.
I had been admiring Carna’s naked form—every bit as white and beautiful as the knight mother and daughter since her hospital days—when my eyes caught the bizarre, blood-red pattern glowing like fresh gore just below her pelvis, at the secret place where her womb lay.
It’s full hypnosis mode. I smirked. The old bastard must have gone through a lot of trouble managing her with individual commands every single time.
This was the most extreme form of doll: the ego sunk into the deepest abyss so that the body reacted only to the owner’s orders. Having recognized the Count’s twisted possessiveness that had completely castrated her sense of self, I spoke with polite detachment, as if none of it concerned me.
“Father. That blonde doll you rented from the President the other day—could you lend her to me for a short while?”
The Count clicked his tongue with an expression like he had bitten into a bug. “I returned that idiot doll who does nothing but lick my toes back to the President yesterday. I didn’t want to waste any more money on her. What exactly do you plan to use her for?”
“I intended to use her for Karin’s training.”
Swallowing my irritation at the word “returned,” I gave the Count—who already had a rough idea of my training methods—a suitably edited version of events.
“I’m breaking down Karin’s mind exactly according to the manual the President left at my request. However, if I were to use Camilla directly in front of her… the risk is high that Karin would awaken with rage to protect her mother rather than collapse mentally. That’s why I needed a substitute.”
A greedy, vulgar smile spread across the Count’s wrinkled lips as he listened. “Kekeke. Well, seeing what you’re doing to Karin in that secret room, I suppose that is a reasonable concern. Playing the savior? Quite the plausible deception, I must say.”
Just as I thought. A cold shiver ran down my spine.
I briefly considered changing the training room since the old raccoon clearly had no intention of hiding his surveillance, but I quickly abandoned the idea. My opponent was a mage. The entire mansion was already in the palm of his hand; switching rooms would solve nothing. Instead, I spotted a magnificent opening in the Count’s relaxed attitude.
Corrupting a doll whose ego remained intact through deception was one of the more vicious amusements favored by owners with peculiar tastes. The Count had mistaken my “fake savior” performance with Karin as nothing more than an obvious taming tactic to shatter her reason.
Arrogance that guessed my intention yet failed to grasp the essence. Perfect. I’ll make thorough use of that complacency of yours.
I wondered if he realized I was preparing to slit his throat. Even if he did, he would never be able to imagine how I intended to do it. Unaware of my inner thoughts, the Count continued in an arrogant tone.
“Well, if you need a substitute for that purpose, use your mother Carna. She should be more than enough to fool that bitch Karin’s eyes. In exchange… send Camilla to my bedchamber during the training period. I’ll need to touch her body myself and receive her personal service.”
The ugly true nature of the old lecher finally revealed itself as he sought to devour Camilla’s body. I coldly suppressed the murderous rage boiling inside me, clicked my tongue, and turned away.
“Consider this deal canceled, Father.”
“You little—where do you think you’re going?!”
Leaving the flustered Count’s voice behind, I stepped out of the bedchamber and twisted my lips into a bitter smile.
It wasn’t in the original plan, but I’ll have to use Camilla directly.
The old raccoon’s greed had given me the perfect inspiration.
Count, I’ll invite you to the most perfect stage so that Karin’s hatred for you burns like the fires of hell…
Revising my plan, I opened the door to the room beside Karin’s before entering hers. And then—
“E-Edric…? No way…”
Karin’s face turned deathly pale the moment she saw me return to the secret room. I had not brought the substitute woman she expected. Standing behind me was Camilla, her eyes devoid of focus. Her utterly still form, where even the sound of breathing seemed absent, resembled a meticulously sculpted wax doll more than a living person.
I clenched my fist tightly, delivering the most despairing and rage-filled performance I could muster—as though the world itself had crumbled.
“I’m sorry, Karin… Father—that devilish old bastard—laughed at our plan. He refused to provide a substitute and forced Knight Captain Camilla in instead.”
“N-no… Mother…! Mother!!!”
Karin screamed and rushed toward Camilla, desperately clutching her shoulders. But Camilla, her reason submerged in the deepest abyss under full hypnosis mode, merely swayed helplessly like a doll with her head limply tilted, showing no reaction whatsoever to her own daughter’s anguished touch and cries.
“Karin. Sit down.”
“No!!!”
At my firm command, Karin released Camilla and collapsed onto the floor like a dog. I instantly bound her body with the prepared ropes and restraints, securing her tightly.
“Let me go! Let goooo! That bastard Count! I’ll kill him! Uwaaaaaagh!”
Karin thrashed her legs in the air, howling like a wild beast as she struggled to break free. I leaned close to her ear while she flailed and whispered in a voice heavy with sorrow.
“Endure it just a little longer, Karin. Father is watching. If we don’t finish the fourth day of the manual’s training—even by force—the next step will be the Count personally embracing our mothers… under the guise of sex education.”
Recalling the contents of the fifth day, Karin’s red eyes widened in utter terror and hatred at the cruel verdict, as though they might tear apart. Her gaze followed my hand as I brought Camilla onto the bed. And then Karin saw it—the horrific red tattoo clearly visible on her mother’s lower abdomen, right at the secret location of her womb.
A blood-red crest glowing at the womb, symbolizing the complete erasure of self.
The perfect, despairing illusion that her mother’s warm, smiling personality had been utterly deleted by that devil Count’s commands and reduced to nothing but a meat doll finally brought tears to Karin’s eyes.
“Hic… Aah… No… Please, stop…”
“…Resist with everything you have, Karin. The manual says she’s bound with iron chains, but since we’re using ropes, you might be able to free yourself if you truly want to.”
Right before Karin’s wide-open eyes, I moved to roughly violate Camilla’s naked body bearing the red brand—only to suddenly freeze. Breathing hard, I approached the bound Karin and collapsed onto the floor beside her in apparent despair.
“Damn it… Haa… No matter what, this is too much… What the hell am I doing right now, violating Aunt Camilla’s body… No. Just what the hell am I even doing?”
I stared blankly at Camilla’s pure white naked form lying defenseless on the bed and roughly dragged both hands down my face.
“Karin, what exactly are we trying to resist that we’ve been driven to commit such horrific acts?”
My voice carried thick skepticism and self-mockery. It was an elaborate performance of complete collapse in the face of the tragic reality that, although we had begun this to protect ourselves and our mothers, we now had to personally violate someone precious. The fierce anger burning in Karin’s red eyes gradually cooled as she watched my despairing figure.
Where the boiling murderous intent had subsided, deep composure and resignation now coiled tightly.
“…Yeah. Really… What are we even doing?”
Karin muttered as if her soul had left her body, cursing to the marrow of her bones the grotesque, twisted fate that she and I had been forced into by the devilish hypnosis and the Count’s greed.
It was precisely then that a heavy, icy silence settled over the secret room.
Rustle.
Like a mechanical doll that had just been switched on, Camilla slowly sat up from the bed. The red tattoo signifying full hypnosis mode still glowed clearly on her lower abdomen, yet an eerily bright and empty smile bloomed across her face.
“Oh my, young lady. We meet again.”
Her gentle voice was like that of a noblewoman from high society. It was the activation of the false personality forcibly implanted to fulfill the role of “the unfamiliar young lady providing sex education” on the fourth day of the manual—something the Count… well, in truth I, had inserted to deceive Karin.
“Fufufu. So the young lady’s man was Edric? Did the training with me prove effective?”
Camilla approached me slowly where I sat on the floor, her eyes empty yet smiling. She then bent her dazzling upper body to my eye level and whispered sweetly.
“Now that I think about it, Edric, you never received proper sex education either because Sister Carna became the Count’s doll, did you? How pitiful. This aunt will teach you.”
The moment she finished speaking, Camilla’s soft hand reached over my pants and firmly grasped my fiercely swollen member.
“A-aunt?! No, Captain! What are you suddenly doing? Stop it at once!”
This development was not in my script.
She was only supposed to go “fufufu” and show what I had done in reverse for observation…
Truly panicked, I frantically tried to pull her hand away.
“Mom! Have you lost your mind?! Stop right now!!”
Karin, tied to the bedpost, also screamed in horror at the bizarre scene unfolding before her. Despite our desperate protests, Camilla did not stop. On the contrary, an alien clarity—an unmistakable ‘spark of reason’—began to swirl vividly in her previously empty blue eyes.
“Oh my… So Edric and Karin were together… Hahaha. I see now.”
Still gripping the front of my pants, Camilla let out a captivating yet hollow laugh as though she had realized some profound truth.
“Come to think of it, that person’s acquaintance was Edric. Fufufu. Then the education in the manual that day… was that person teaching bride lessons to Karin, who would become Edric’s wife, in place of the inexperienced me.”
The way she rationalized the entire contents of the manual through her own grotesque logic sent a chill down my spine. At that exact moment, both Karin’s and my eyes snapped simultaneously to Camilla’s smooth lower abdomen.
It’s gone.
The blood-red tattoo that had glowed so clearly until moments ago—the symbol of full hypnosis mode—had vanished without a trace. What stood before us now was not a meat doll that had lost its ego, but Camilla herself, her reason restored.
“M-mom… Please don’t do this! Snap out of it! Those are all horrible commands given by that disgusting Count bastard who made himself your owner!”
Karin pleaded, tears of blood streaming down her face. Yet Camilla, now fully rational, simply offered her bound daughter a gentle, skin-crawling smile.
“What are you talking about, Karin? Our true owner isn’t that filthy Count, but rather… rather… rather……”
Suddenly Camilla’s lips convulsed. Like a wind-up doll suffering a fatal system error, her head jerked to a creaking halt. With unfocused eyes she began repeating the same word like a broken parrot.
“Rather… ra… ther…”
Slump.
Like a marionette with its strings cut, Camilla’s eyes slowly closed and she collapsed limply onto my lap. Just as even breathing like deep slumber filled the silence of the secret room, the red brand that had vanished earlier began creeping back across her lower abdomen.
It was a forced return to full hypnosis mode, with her ego once again sinking into the deep abyss.
I looked down at the collapsed Camilla, biting my lip as a terrible chill raced up my spine.
“…In the end, the real owner of all these dolls… is that monstrous President.”
The ‘absolute suggestion’ the President had planted at the beginning had clashed with the memory of the hypnosis training performed by the creator himself, causing a bug. No matter how much I used knowledge from the original novel to deceive the Count and shake the board, the spine-chilling truth that the true ruler of this world was only the original protagonist sank deep into my bones that night.