The capital city of Vel Orainn shimmered like a jewel bathed in sin.
Spire-palaces pierced the clouds. Lust lanterns burned on every corner. Perfumed courtesans walked hand-in-hand with armored mages. Every smile in the capital hid teeth. Every moan, a whisper of power.
Elian and Neressa arrived at sundown, their return from the Labyrinth causing ripples through the noble houses like a stone through still water.
The Velvet Veil's emissaries bowed low. Whispers spread:
"They survived the Labyrinth...""Did you see the way their aura flickers like madness? He's not just a Flamebearer anymore—he's something new.""Too dangerous to ignore."
At the heart of the city loomed the Crimson Parliament—a tower of glass and gold, where the ruling houses of the realm met not just to govern, but to scheme, seduce, and dominate.
They had summoned Elian.
But not to welcome him.
To test him.
To use him.
Or destroy him.
The Velvet Courtroom
The grand hall of the Crimson Parliament resembled a cathedral of vice.
Pillars carved with intertwined bodies. Stained-glass windows depicting historical orgasms of divine significance. In the center: a circular arena of crimson cushions and low-slung couches where lawmakers lounged in translucent robes, half-erect or wet, always watching.
At the highest seat sat Duchess Merelith Vaun, Speaker of the Parliament.
A cruel beauty with silver eyes and a voice like soft silk over daggers.
"Elian of the Velvet Veil," she said, her lips curling. "You arrive with fire in your blood and madness in your bond. Tell us—do you seek power?"
Elian didn't flinch. "No. I seek freedom. For myself and those who've been chained by your games."
The nobles chuckled.
Merelith's smile widened. "Then play with us, dear boy. Let's see how well you resist."
The Game: The Scarlet Chalice
Neressa was escorted from the chamber—politely, but firmly.
Elian was left alone.
A masked servant approached with a golden chalice filled with a glistening red elixir.
"This," Merelith purred, "is Lustwine of Ancaris. A truth serum infused with arousal magic and mild compulsion. You will drink it. And answer all questions asked—honestly."
He narrowed his eyes.
"And if I refuse?"
"You'll be labeled uncooperative, possibly dangerous. Your privileges in the capital will be revoked. Your contract with Neressa—re-examined."
He took the chalice.
Drank it.
The Lustwine hit instantly—heat coiling in his stomach, rising up his spine. His body flushed. His cock hardened, unbidden.
His eyes glazed—but his will held firm.
"Begin," he rasped.
The Questions
One by one, nobles asked.
"Have you taken more than one lover under your contract?"
"No."
"Do you wish harm upon this council?"
"Yes." Gasps.
"Would you betray Neressa for power?"
"Never."
The room was silent.
Until a new voice rang out—low, rich, and dangerous.
"I have a question."
All heads turned.
Lord Kael Tharaxis stepped into view—noble of House Tharaxis, rarely seen, rumored to have studied forbidden Lustcraft in the Flesh Realms beyond Eros.
He was tall, dark-skinned, with violet tattoos that shimmered as he moved. His eyes burned with confidence and cruelty.
"Elian," Kael said smoothly. "Do you trust your own mind?"
Elian's heart skipped.
"I…"
Kael lifted a gloved hand—and snapped his fingers.
The Lustwine activated—its hidden spell unfurling like a flower of thought.
The Mind Touch
Elian gasped.
Memories twisted. Desires warped.
Suddenly, Kael's voice sounded deeper—like it was inside his skull.
You're safe with me, it whispered. You want to obey. It feels good to obey.
Elian's cock throbbed.
Kael's power was a rare, dangerous branch of Lust Magic: Mind Weaving—a blend of desire and suggestion, pleasure used as a leash.
Elian's will cracked. He dropped to one knee, trembling.
The crowd held its breath.
Kael approached, knelt before him, and whispered in his ear.
"Imagine kneeling for me. Serving. Giving me Neressa. Your empire of pleasure... offered like a gift."
Elian's body wanted to say yes.
But deep within, something stronger flared.
The Bond.
Neressa's presence burned in his heart like a sun.
He looked up.
"No," he growled. "You don't own me."
Kael's smirk faltered. "Interesting."
The Reversal
Elian seized Kael by the collar—and kissed him.
The court gasped again.
But this kiss was no surrender—it was an inversion.
Elian's Lustfire flooded Kael's mouth, burned through the Mind Weave.
Kael staggered back, eyes wide.
"You… mirrored it," he gasped. "You reflected my control back at me."
Elian stood tall.
"I'm no one's puppet."
He turned to the Parliament.
"Is this how you judge strength? Drugged wine and mind tricks? I've walked through illusions that made gods weep. If this is your challenge—then I accept. But on my terms."
Aftermath: The Crimson Whisper
Later that night, back in their chamber, Neressa straddled him, riding his cock with slow, sensual power.
"You kissed him?" she teased.
"To break the spell," he groaned.
Her nails raked his chest. "Sure."
He thrust up into her, hard.
They fucked by candlelight—equal parts passion and dominance. Their Lust Contract pulsed like a living heart, fed not by fear—but defiance.
After, wrapped in silk and sweat, Neressa whispered, "Kael's not done. He's tasted your mind now. He'll come for more."
Elian nodded. "Then I'll give him something to choke on."
They kissed again, deep and fierce.
The Crimson Parliament had tried to chain him.
But Elian was learning.
In this world, pleasure wasn't just power.
It was war.