Alchemical Lust

Elias White stood alone in his tower, in his bathrobe, looking over the keys he had been entrusted to. All one hundred and sixty one of them. They were taking up the entirety of two and a half small wooden chests.

They came out of a get rich quick scheme he'd recently been getting into relating to a new fad called "financial domination". He was honestly surprised at how many people essentially threw cash at him for his sexual attention, but he couldn't be satisfied with just anything. He wasn't a common prostitute, and wanted his slaves to show their long-term devotion to him, so to filter out the casual slaves from the committed ones, he'd created the chastity belts that these keys belonged to.

On top of being made out of the hardest steel he could find, he'd personally enchanted them with various runes and curses to prevent escape and ensure complete denial. His favorite of these runes was one he'd come up with himself in a spur of sadistic inspiration that increased the wearer's arousal and sensitivity tenfold.

It took a bit of practice, but after a while he'd been able to ensure that the keys in front of him were the only possible way to take the belts off. In all honesty, he'd been careless with the keys and now he wasn't sure which one belonged to which lock. This didn't really bother him--in a way, it kind of excited him actually. He never really let his "property" out anyway. No, people didn't really pay him for release once the belt was on, they paid him to temporarily disable the arousal rune. Sometimes he'd tease that he was thinking about letting them out, though, just to see the tears in their eyes.

He stretched, and looked out of the window onto the street below. It was bustling with activity today. He squinted and readjusted his glasses.

A poster taped to the wall of the flower shop across the street informed him that today was the opening day of the Grand Market.

"Grand..." he murmured. "Shit, that's right!"

The Grand Market was a wandering market that picked up merchants from all over the world, bringing new and rare imports wherever it went. He'd been hoping to visit it someday, but it was so hard to track down he'd given up on the idea of it. It was the perfect place to stock up on some rare ingredients he needed, and maybe if he was lucky he'd find a new tome or something.

He dashed over to his cloak and rummaged through his pockets, searching for his coin pouch. When he finally found it, he groaned and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed.

It dangled limply in his hand. It was empty.

Right.

He looked around his room, hoping to find something he could barter with.

There were some old clothes he never wore, but he doubted it'd fetch anything at market. Maybe he could sell them to a slave later, or a prospective slave, or...

His eyes drifted to his bookshelf, to a particular tome labeled: "Alchemy: Chrysopoeia and Beyond". He tapped his chin, idly.

It could work. He wasn't super experienced with alchemy, but he had the tools for it and he'd been meaning to give it a shot anyway.

As he crossed his room to grab the book, he scooped up a handful of keys out of the first chest. He'd need some metal to use, after all. He jangled them around in his hand, feeling his own arousal build as he did. He always liked the sound of control.

He flicked through the pages, and read aloud the things he'd need:

"Cauldron and stirring spoon, sure. Frog's eye, uh-huh. Lead or iron, and dust of... desired object?" He frowned. He'd be lucky if he even had copper dust laying around.

He dug through his desk drawers, coming up empty, but then he remembered that he'd hidden some diamond dust in a hollow book on his shelf. That might work, right? I mean, it IS dust of a desired object.

He dropped everything in the pot, added the standard mixture, and began to stir. Worst case scenario, he comes out empty handed and twelve or so lucky slaves end up his for life (as if they weren't already).

As he stirred, he began to fantasize about how someone's face might look when they're told that their belt was permanent. Maybe he'd even add a few more runes to it, just to solidify the fact they're fucked. He was so lost in this fantasy that he barely noticed the pink mist rising out of the pot.

His free hand began to drift towards his underwear, teasing his dick through the cloth. It had been a while, and the skin was sensitive. He felt a wet spot as precum began to drip out, and a heat began to rise around him.

He was interrupted by a clanging sound inside the cauldron.

Carefully, he dumped the liquid mixture out (it had turned a calm blue color during the process), and to his delight he saw twelve large diamonds glinting up at him. He scooped them up and tossed them into his coin pouch.

Briefly, he contemplated finishing his fantasy from before, but the idea of missing out on the Market's goods scared him. He quickly threw on his shirt, fumbled through his leather pants, and haphazardly wrapped his cloak around his body before sprinting out of his tower into the market below.