Richard sneezed as a fresh cloud of dust rose from where he stepped. Faintly above him, the roads of Paris whirred with life, contrasting with the dank halls of the catacombs he explored. Despite being mere feet apart, the two could not be more different.

“Richard, stop moving the light! I need to see where I’m going!” Professor Craft barked at him in her posh English accent. 

Richard rolled his eyes and focused the flashlight ahead of his bossy professor. She wore tight form-fitting blue jeans and a khaki polo, like some modern-day Indiana Jones if Indiana Jones were a 45-year-old woman. Her black hair had silver streaks woven through her braided pony-tail, a symbol of her age and experience. For someone currently entering her middle age, she was still pleasant to look at in Richard’s opinion. Being around her was a different story.

“Richard!” she yelled. “You need to keep the flashlight steady, or I swear I’m failing you out of my class!”

Richard winced. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m trying to hold it steady for you. There's just so much to see down here.”

“They are bones, Richard! There are thousands of skeletons just like these ones around every bloody corner of this crypt! We aren’t here to catalogue bodies, we are mapping this maze and hoping to find something actually interesting, so I can keep getting grant money, and you can use my clout to get your arse a job worth a damn in archeology. Now, be a good boy, and hold the light steady while I chart!”

Richard rolled his eyes. “Professor, these are among the most visited catacombs on earth. If we are looking for something no one has seen before, I doubt we will find it down here.”

“Listen here, you little shit,” Professor Craft hissed, turning around to face Richard with venom dripping from every word she spoke. “Nobody gives grants for finding bones in wherever the fuck South America. They want something from places they are familiar with, and I have made a very nice career of finding it for them. So you can shut up and hold the flashlight steady for me, or you can leave my program.”

Richard sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”

The two continued deeper and deeper into the catacombs. Minutes seemed to pass like hours as they delved deeper into the darkness. Richard gazed at the walls of the catacombs, the assorted human remains stacked neatly, creating a wall of bone. Richard felt his mouth open in awe, gazing at the remains.

“Richard!” The shrill scream of Professor Craft echoed through the halls. Richard winced, and soon after, the flashlight was ripped from his hands. In the light, Richard could see that her face was as red as a stoplight.

“You are by far the most incompetent student I have brought down here. I thought you could at least be responsible enough to hold a fucking flashlight, but apparently I was mistaken. Now follow me while I do all the cataloguing myself, and when we get out of here, I’m going to have a discussion with the admin about your continued participation in this program!”

Richard groaned. “Please, professor, I just need to finish this class to graduate!” 

Professor Craft didn’t bother to respond, grumbling to herself as she turned a corner.

“Dammit!” Richard yelled as he dropped to the floor. He stared blankly at the ground as darkness enveloped him. As he lifted his head back up, he found he couldn't see even a foot in front of him, echoing footsteps growing fainter in the distance. “Professor, wait!” 

Richard scampered in the general direction of the footsteps, hand feeling the wall for guidance. The darkness was all-encompassing, and his hand ran over skull after skull as he desperately searched for any light source. He stumbled in the dark, each second feeling like an hour in the blackness. He stood still for a moment, desperate to hear any indication of where the professor had gone, but only silence was all that hit his ears.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself as he stopped to think. It wasn't a foregone conclusion that the professor would have to come back; the labyrinth offered a multitude of ways to exit its mazelike hallways. Richard pulled out his cell phone, the glowing screen offering some comfort that he could at least see his immediate surroundings, but there was no signal, meaning no way to call for help, and only 53% battery life left. Thinking about what to do, Richard decided to turn on his phone's flashlight and try to navigate back the way he came.

The hallways of the catacombs were seemingly endless and devoid of any distinguishing characteristics. Richard gazed down, hoping to find footprints that matched his and the professor's. He took a left and then quickly changed his mind and went the opposite way. He stood still and listened for someone, anyone, who he could find to lead him out of this crypt. He looked back down at his phone and was shocked to find it down to 13%. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as his hands clasped around his head. “How long have I been down here?”

Richard fell back onto a wall, expecting to be held up by the dirt, which made it a shock when the wall gave way to his weight. “Argh!” Richard screamed as he fell down, almost 6 feet, before bouncing limply on the stone floor of the lower hidden chamber he had opened. His phone clattered next to his head, screen glow disappearing as soon as it made contact with the ground. Bits of dirt and who knows what else rained down on Richard’s body. 

Richard quickly dusted himself off, shuddering as he imagined what gristle the dirt on him was made of. He quickly reached for his phone, pulling it to his face, and found its screen cracked. Desperately, he pressed the power button, but the screen wouldn’t come on. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he muttered as he got up. Something clicked in his head suddenly, and he realized, despite losing the phone light, he could still see. An eerie blue glow emanated from the center of the room, lighting the walls of whatever chamber he was in. He quickly turned to the center of the room and located the source.

A scepter of some kind sat in the center of the room, atop some kind of strange pedestal of marble with various words written in French at the base of each step. The scepter itself looked like it was made of rose gold, something you’d find in the collections of the various Kings Louis of France’s past. Atop the scepter was some kind of clear gem that emanated a strange, otherworldly light through the room. Richard hesitantly approached and walked up the steps to the item to inspect it. He examined the staff, finding that it didn’t appear to be attached to the pedestal in any way. Inscribed on the base of the scepter were the words Autorité de Gouverner. 

“Authority to rule,” Richard muttered. Clearly, the scepter had some significance beyond its ability to be a makeshift flashlight, but at the moment, he just needed light, and this was the only thing in the crypt that had any. With a violent tug, he ripped the scepter from the pedestal.

A wave of unnatural wind blew from the base of the chamber as Richard grasped the scepter and held it aloft, using the light source to find his way out. Had he been paying attention, Richard would have noticed his body changing. His messy beard became more well-shaven, his raven black hair gaining a sheen it had lacked before, his loose clothing becoming tighter as his muscles grew. 

The changes did not stop at the physical. As he held aloft the scepter, a sense of clarity filled his mind. This was a situation that required intelligence of thought and bravery in action. His imagination swirled, imagining a group of subjects relying on his leadership to lead them from the crypt. Something about that scenario seemed natural, like this was his destiny. He examined the wall where he had fallen, noting places he could grasp to climb out of the chamber as the scepter illuminated the way out. 

His newfound strength made the task of climbing the wall almost trivially easy. Normally, he would swell with pride as he rose to his feet, but something about the scepter suppressed that instinct. His potential was far greater than merely scaling a mere six-foot wall after all. People needed a real spectacle to rally to his side, and as soon as he navigated his way out of the catacombs, a compulsion filled him to do just that.

“Richard!” a familiar shrill voice called out. “Where the fuck have you been!”

Richard turned to face the professor standing at the end of the hallway, angry as ever. “Well, Penelope, I was searching for my exit after you had abandoned me to the darkness of the catacombs,” he replied plainly with a frown.

“Penelope?!” the woman growled in response, her face contorting into a snarl. “Where did you find the gall to refer to me by my first name, you little worm! You are already in hot shit with the school when we get out of here. Do you want me to add sexual harassment to the list of things I'm gonna tell them about? ”

Richard scoffed. “You have proven yourself unworthy of any position of authority,” he replied in the same matter-of-fact voice, undeterred by his professor's idle threats. 

The professor's face grew red as a tomato, her eyes shifting to the scepter Richard wielded. She laughed as she gazed at it. “I see how it is now, you got yourself a fancy trinket down here, and now you think you can take all the credit for finding it. Well, bad news for you, Richard. I have extensive documentation showing that this whole exploration was my idea. Good luck convincing anyone that this dinky trinket was discovered by anyone but me!”

Richard stared at her with a plain frown. “Your words and attitude cease to amuse me, woman,” he said plainly, holding the scepter inches from her head, some instinctual force guiding his words and movements. “Acknowledge your rightful status and pledge fealty to me.”

“Fealty!? You are so expelled when we…” was all Professor Craft could give in response before the tip of the scepter touched her forehead. In that instant, the anger was wiped from her face, entirely replaced with an expressionless void as the scepter's light gained new life. It pulsed, lighting up the room with a red glow. Red wisps of similar hue escaped the professor's eyes and entered the gem atop the scepter. The wisps started as a mighty torrent but faded weaker and weaker the more it entered the scepter.  As the light from her eyes dimmed to a trickle, Richard pulled the scepter away.

“I…. I am sorry, my lord,” Penelope stammered. “I was concerned with my own advancement, but now I see the folly of my actions. Please forgive this indiscretion," she continued as she fell to her knees, head low in reverence.

Richard smirked as the professor before him prostrated herself before him. “Much better. You now have a proper perspective of the roles you and I must fill. Now tell me, are you familiar with the layout of these crypts sufficiently enough to lead us out from here?”

Penelope nodded. “My lord, I have the charts written for just this purpose. We can be out of this dreadful place in about five minutes,” she replied.

Richard grinned. “Excellent, then there is no need to rush. We can return to the chamber with this remarkable treasure and discern its secrets. But first, I have another task for you, wench.”

Penelope stared up at Richard as a puppy would to its master. “Please, my lord,” she cooed, “tell your subject how she can be of use.”

Richard grinned. “In spite of your age, you are still quite attractive to me, subject. Your king's awakening has left him feeling virile with no means of release before your arrival. Your orders are to undress yourself and present yourself to me for use.”

Penelope sat silent for a moment, seemingly pondering Richard's demands. Soon, she gave a simple reply.

“Of course, my lord. Use your subject as you see fit.”

Professor Craft rose to her feet and unbuttoned her shirt robotically, revealing the black lace bra she had underneath. Tossing the khaki shirt aside, she then unclasped it in the same manner and tossed it with her shirt. Her pants, shoes, socks, and matching panties soon joined the rest of her clothes, and she stood bare before Richard, who grinned at the sight. The beauty before him had kept excellent care of her body; her breasts were still perky and large, and her body was toned by regular exercise. There were wrinkles of time on her skin and silver streaks in her hair. But, like fine wine, age only seemed to make the package more appealing.

“Does my appearance please you, my lord?” She said as she turned around, putting her hands on the wall and pushing her supple butt out for easy entry, her pussy glistening under the glow of the scepter.

Richard licked his lips as he walked behind the woman and roughly grabbed at her ass. “Very much so,” he replied in a husky growl. “I can see why you have a reputation as a milf in the university.” Unceremoniously, he dropped his pants and underwear, his erection springing forth with little issue. 

“Stand on your toes, subject,” Richard ordered as he lined himself up for entry into his professor's wet pussy. Penelope did as commanded without hesitation, lining herself up perfectly for entry. With a confident thrust, Richard plunged into the instructor, grasping her hips for leverage.

Penelope moaned as he began to thrust in her. It had been so long since she had sex, and Richard's thrust perfectly reached her most sensitive places. One of Richard's hands moved from her hips to roughly pawing at her breasts, teasing her nipple as he began to fuck her.

Richard sighed happily as he thrust in and out of the professor, as he buried himself inside her to the hilt. He put his head by her ears and whispered into them.

“Do you see now, Penelope? How good it is to submit yourself?” he whispered huskily in the professor's ear as he pulled her hips back in time with his thrusts. 

Penelople shuddered with delight. “Yes, my lord, use me more, please!” she begged.

Richard smirked and thrust faster, his hips meeting the submissive woman's with lurid slaps. Her pussy was soaking wet and pleasantly warm. It squeezed his dick lovingly each time he buried himself inside her. The moans and squeals she emitted filled the dark hallways of the catacombs, echoing out in the confined space.

Richard grunted as Penelope shivered violently, clearly climaxing under his assault on her senses. With a grunt, he came too, filling the woman with shot after shot of virile seed, the power of the scepter blessing him.

Penelope moaned as he exited her pussy, leaving it dripping with his seed. She looked back at her lord, panting with her tongue hanging limply from her mouth.

Richard smiled, gazing into her eyes. “Clean me, subject,” Richard ordered. 

Penelope swiftly turned around and fell to her knees. Gazing lovingly at Richard, she took his dick and began to lick it clean from the cum it had become coated in. Richard gave her a toothy smile, watching her thoroughly lick every inch of his dick, his cum leaking luridly out of her and onto the dusty floor of the catacombs. He held the scepter to his face, delighting in its glow. He felt a compulsion well up within him, a simple need. Richard required more subjects.