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Some words held power. Some other words were, in Owen's opinion, merely advisory. It just so happened that he considered the words “Restricted area – Do not enter" belonged in the latter category.

The horned owl shot a glance over his shoulder as he slipped under the velvet cord that kept the restricted area loosely separated from the rest of the library. If they were serious about keeping it restricted, then why was that all that prevented curious library users – such as him – from walking into it? That section was basically begging to be accessed.

Owen had thought it'd be a bigger room. Instead, the so-called restricted area was merely an L-shaped space between bookshelves. It looked so perfectly normal and innocent that it was hard to believe the materials stored there had been deemed dangerous by scholars. Owen had no idea what principles had been used to create the section, but he knew what he was looking for – the kind of stuff that everyone could agree belonged there.

A particular tome caught his attention. It looked just like a normal book, except there was a weird eye carved on the untitled leather cover. The book rested on a purple box with jeweled corners, quite fancy in comparison. Resting on the box was also a small, funny-looking paper note that read “Do not open under any circumstances!".

Owen tilted his head. Did it mean the book or the box? Whoever had written that should have clarified. They left him with no option but to try and guess.

The horned owl opened the book first. It felt like the reasonable thing to do – after all, he wouldn't be able to open the box without first laying his wings on the book. No sooner had he flipped through the first pages than an unexpected flash of light hit his eyes. Owen squinted, trying to make out through the brightness, and he thought he could see… a spiral?

But it didn't make any sense. The spiral wasn't on the pages of the book. It was just there, in front of him, but he didn't know exactly where. The owl's big round eyes mirrored it as it swirled and throbbed slowly, trying to understand what he was looking at – and then a certain word hit his brain.

“Stare."

Owen had a feeling it was on the pages, but whenever he looked at them through the entrancing spiral, the only thing he could see was blank paper. As he tried to decide whether he was reading, listening, thinking or just receiving the words through some unknown channel, the word flashed on his eyes again.

“Stare."

So Owen stared.

His body grew limp as his pupils widened. A distant part of his brain realized he'd walked straight into some kind of trap, but he didn't really care. By then, staring already felt good enough that he couldn't stop. Whenever the spiral throbbed, something throbbed in him as well – a certain part of his brain that enjoyed being outsmarted, tricked, even controlled – and it was growing bigger by the second.

“Obey."

Again, it didn't look like the word was on the pages of the book, but Owen could have sworn he was reading it. His eyes glassed over as he tried to make sense of his senses, a muffled moan escaping his throat as he made one last attempt to resist the magic pull drawing him closer to the box. The owl felt his wings reaching out automatically, feathered arms rising as if invisible strings had been plugged to his heavy limbs and were now forcing them up, up, up. Meanwhile, the spiral kept on swirling and throbbing, confining the real world to a blurry, easily forgettable background.

“Open the box."

The jeweled corners were strangely warm to the touch. Owen pulled the lid up and, for a second, he thought the book would lose its balance and drop to the carpeted floor. However, it remained perfectly upright, as if powerful magic was making sure it stood in that position no matter what. Having sorted that out, his attention was drawn to the contents of the box.

There were two outfits inside, neatly folded and scrupulously clean. One seemed to be a butler's and the other, a maid's. Even before laying a single finger on them and with his mind far, far away, Owen could tell the fabric they were made of was extremely smooth.

“Put the outfit on."

Owen shuddered a bit with anticipation, his fingers slowly letting go of the lid, which remained floating in the air, and moving towards the butler outfit.

“Not that one. The other outfit."

There was a brief moment of struggle in his mind that was solved with an almost noticeable click of his thoughts, as he realized he'd actually wanted to wear the maid outfit ever since he'd laid his eyes on it.

His trembling wings approached the smooth black fabric and pulled the outfit out of the box. Something slipped from between the folds of the skirt – a pair of satin briefs that drifted to the floor as lightly as a feather. Owen crouched, still staring at the spiral, picked them up and began to undress himself.

He'd known that the situation had been arousing him more than it probably should for a while now, but as soon as he slipped the satin underwear over an erection that rivaled the spiral's throbbing, the owl let out a soft moan and felt his eyes roll up. The fabric was so smooth and warm that it felt like it was gently caressing all the sensitive spots. A pattern in the shape of a spiral was tented outward just above Owen's visible erection, and even though the owl had the weak thought that it wasn't possible, he could have sworn it was swirling, swirling just as much as the spiral he was staring at, pleasuring him even further…

Owen was about to pass out from the bliss taking over his body, yet he somehow managed to put on the rest of the silky outfit and then, tongue lolling out and eyes struggling to keep open, he stumbled back until he collapsed on a nearby stool. He remained there, his vacant gaze focused on the spiral in front of him, droplets of drool slowly leaving his half-open beak.

“You will be a good maid. Repeat."

Owen's beak moved on its own, words leaving his throat automatically. His hard cock throbbed as the briefs kept on swirling and stroking him on their own.

“I will be… good maid…"

“You will be a good maid. Repeat."

“I will… hmf… good maid…"

The owl's voice sounded weird, like it wasn't his own anymore.

“You will obey Master Lucian. Repeat."

“I will… obey… Master Lucian…"

Eventually, Owen got lost in the repetitions. He lost track of what it was that he was repeating, of what it was that he was letting sink into his brain, becoming beliefs and convictions he'd suddenly always had. Covered in his smooth outfit, feeling the fabric around his throbbing erection twist and stroke and pleasure, he floated in the emptiness of his senses as his beak opened and closed, his throat producing sounds that he was no longer aware of.

Then, a new command came, and Owen with it. A sudden, intense wave of pleasure broke through the mists of trance and hit the owl's brain with a strong ping, forcing him over the edge. He reached orgasm with a muffled moan and felt the insides of the satin briefs filling with warm, sticky seed. However, he didn't have much time to process that happening as his eyes got drawn back to the book in front of him.

The command was still there, waiting for him to accept it.

“You will travel to Lucian's manor."

The owl's legs tensed and forced his body to rise from the stool. He walked out of the restricted section, not a single voice inside his head other than the words he'd been reading or listening or receiving or being fed for the past few hours. His body moved obediently, his maid skirt fluttering all around him with every step. His erection kept on being teased and played with even after reaching orgasm, but it remained conveniently concealed under the soft outfit.

It was probably for the better that nobody was in the library at that time. Owen would have had a lot of explaining to do if someone had seen him walking like that, with a completely blank expression and a carefully maintained posture that indicated exquisite maid etiquette.

Fortunately, he was going somewhere else. And he wouldn't be seen in that library again for a long, long time.