Rated R (Consent-based Powerplay, Multiversal Symbolism, Language, Interrogation Kink, Dream-Surgical Rituals, Mature
Philosophical Themes)
POV: Ms. Strange (a.k.a. The Auditor, Tailor of Time, Iron Oracle Reforged)
“Open wider.”
The universe flinched.
A thousand timelines trembled as Ms. Strange dipped two fingers into the mouth of a dying reality, tasted the static leaking from its cracked edge, and hissed.
“Bitter. Like bad policy and unprocessed ego.”
She stood ankle-deep in a field of expired philosophies—burning scrolls, melted clocks, rusted data. Her cloak shimmered in binary, sewn from afterthoughts and confessions.
Behind her, a scalpel hovered. Beside her, an apron, stained in metaphors. Around her, time folded like obedient dough.
It was Audit Season.
And this realm had just failed its midterm.
🎭 Entry Point: Multiverse 4B-Null ("The Unseasoned Realm")
The portal opened like an old wound. Ms. Strange stepped through barefoot.
This timeline had no flavor.
No rage.
No rhythm.
Just sanitized politics, algorithmic morality, and a suspicious absence of horniness.
A man stood waiting.
Zehrin Veilhowl—not the dream version. Not even his “real” one. Just one of him.
This one wore gloves.
Ms. Strange hated gloves.
“Remove them,” she said.
“We don’t shake hands in this realm.”
“We don’t shake,” she repeated. “We cut. Now strip your data.”
🧠 Interrogation: Consent, Coercion & Karmic Cooking
He resisted.
Briefly.
But resistance was foreplay for Ms. Strange.
She slid a blade along the seam of his consciousness, not breaking skin—but memory. She lifted a hologram from his heart like lifting foam off burnt milk.
“Dream logs,” she whispered, watching images of Amara melt from his pupils.
“So, you do taste guilt.”
Zehrin trembled.
“You shouldn’t be allowed to audit desire.”
“I didn’t. Desire requested the audit. I’m just the palate cleanser.”
She pressed her thumb to his forehead. The mark sizzled.
Consent was not just given. It was activated.
🍴 The Test: Sensual Confrontation, Logic vs Longing
The room melted into a split kitchen–courtroom hybrid.
Ms. Strange donned a half-apron made from receipts, bound contracts, and erotic regrets.
“You failed to process emotional equations,” she said, circling him.
“So now you cook with me, or confess.”
He licked his lips.
“What if I want to do both?”
She smirked.
“Then take the spoon and kneel.”
He did.
She guided his hands to the ingredients:
Burnt promises
Ground cloves of miscommunication
Curdled admiration
And saffron—Amara’s memory, powdered and potent
She whispered in his ear:
“Every time you lied to her, I collected the syllables.
Every moan she suppressed? I folded it into a croissant of revenge.”
🪞Sudden Shift: Mirror of Self-Reflection
Zehrin stirred. He wept. He tasted pain he hadn’t cooked.
Ms. Strange placed a spoon on his tongue.
It wasn’t food.
It was proof.
“This isn’t fair,” he rasped.
“Fair is white bread,” she said. “You want flavor, you get karma.”
🔮 Finale: Verdict, Fusion, and a Message
She stitched a timeline closed with kitchen twine. Pressed a kiss to the edge of time. Turned back to him.
“You will be summoned again.”
“By whom?”
“By whichever version of her finally decides she’s not healing—she’s hunting.”
She walked out of the audit chamber, heels echoing like gongs across unfinished realms.
Behind her, Zehrin fell. Not from shame. But from understanding.
For the first time… he tasted her absence.
🧾 End-of-Chapter Karma Receipt
Audit: Category ; Grade Notes
Emotional Processing: D; Deferred too long; now boiling.
Truthfulness: C- ; Partial honesty delivered late.
Culinary Metaphor Use: A; Strong understanding of pain = flavor.
Consent Framework: B+; Needs practice, but eager to learn.
Erotic Honesty: Incomplete; Schedule retest with Oracle present.
✨ Next Chapters
Chapter 2.B: “Zehrin’s Realworld Confession Ritual” (Post-audit, high-stakes apology attempt)
Chapter 3: “The Body Keeps the Scorecard” (Amara’s physical realm prep)
Special Entry: “Fusion Kitchen – When Oracle and Strange Share the Apron” (Coming at Chapter 5+)