Ash did as was told, although it was of his own free will, not that he had been ordered.

Dragging the limp, nearly lifeless, newly bathed Lyric down to Dalia's "Playroom", he was smiling with enthusiastic, anxious glee. She smelled much better, and he had simply wrapped her in a bath sheet for the transportation.

Ash dumped her onto the cold, steel table and strapped her wrists down, then spread eagled (as the table required), her ankles. A soft moan may have escaped those pretty but chewed up lips, and he again wished Dalia had given him permission to dope her up a bit. A conscious party girl was more fun than a puking one with the dt's.

Sighing, he lovingly stroked a hand over her cheek, and headed for the stairs. He smelled fear, lust, and pain. Yummy...Chiana was sleeping, he knew, so it must be Koya. Good, she was primed and ready for him then. He would get to torture, tease, and play today, after all!

Ash led her to her own bedroom door, pausing to look over his shoulder briefly before entering, a quick toss of his honey-carmel hair in a come hither style. His eyes smouldered in the darkness of the hall, his smile inviting and wicked.

Pausing just inside the door to her room, Ash waited. He heard his little Asian beauty, her light and delicate steps as she cautiously followed him. He could sense her passion, lust, jealousy and self loathing. It was delicious, her myriad of emotions.

Was she bespelled? In a way. It was just a little mental push in the right direction, and nudge against her inhibitions. It was nothing that she wasn't already wanting, he just offered the right incentive and the right pressure on her moral center.

Performing a minor bit of conjuring, Koya would soon see that she was dressed in a silken robe of deep blood red. Her lips, painted to match, would glisten with strawberry flavored gloss, and her hair would be held up, pinned with black and red enamaled chop sticks. Her feet, once bare, would be lovingly caressed by silken slippers, embroidered with gold thread.

Ash, too, was changed. He stood just inside her bedroom, now dressed in loose black silken pajama bottoms. His hair tied back from his face, secured with a leather thong. Another conjur, and the table beside her low bed was filled with softly glowing candles, a bucket of ice and a blackberry merlot chilling away. Music, seemingly from no where, would be heard only by the two.

Awaiting her, Ash stood, admiring his own little tricks. He wove the spell tighter around her, drawing her nearer with his throat, velvet-deep voice in her mind.

"Come, Koya. Come claim what you hunger for. Show me that you are the woman for me, show me what I am missing. Does she really deserve me? Or are you the delicate lotus that I have been searching for?"