The dark, decadent throne room of The Palace of Extasis, the heart of Andras's Island domain of Trysteza, pulsed with otherworldly sexual energy. The cavernous chamber was a kaleidoscope of sensuality, its walls of black obsidian veined with pulsating violet streaks, as if the room itself had a heartbeat. Overhead, a vaulted ceiling stretched high, adorned with glowing sigils of carnal rites that seemed to writhe and shimmer in the flickering candlelight. The air was thick with the perfume of sweat, sex and brimstone, and smoldering incense curled in lazy tendrils around silk-draped pillars that framed the room.
At the chamber's center, a sprawling, undulating orgy unfolded on a sea of obsidian floor, silk cushions and plush furs. Andras's demonic Concubi - Incubi and Succubi - each one a masterpiece of preternaturally perverse beauty in their own right, writhed together in a symphony of pleasure, feeding off the few mortals foolish or desperate or depraved enough to seek out Extasis. Their bodies gleamed with sweat, their cries of ecstasy mingling in a seductive cacophony that filled the echoing chamber. Perfect breasts bounced, nipples were sucked, bitten and pinched, tongues and fingers and sleek cocks, quivering, yielding anuses and tight, wet cunts were explored to their limits, the slick sounds of flesh and fluid constant like a rushing river. Succubi and Incubi penetrated and fed from mortal men and womed driven desperate and wild in sexual abandon, then drained and discarded them before they turned on each other once more; the cyclical, endless orgy of pleasure, domination and unfettered carnal abandon feeding the golden god upon his dark throne.
Andras reclined on his monolithic seat, carved from obsidian and adorned with lewd carvings of intertwined figures, phallic protrusions and carved, grasping hands. His body was a vision of unearthly perfection; smooth, flawless skin the color of pale gold stretched over lean, rippling muscular limbs. His angular face was cruelly beautiful, with high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and full luscious lips perpetually curled into a wicked grin. His eyes, pupil-less vivid violet orbs, glowed faintly in the dim light, their depths swirling with eternal hunger as he surveyed his throne room.
Andras's body glistened, his toned chest rising and falling as he lounged lazily, his massive cock standing erect and proud, veined and throbbing, an obscene monolith rising from the heavy, smooth golden orbs of his sac. The heavy head of it glistened with a gilded sheen, the pre-cum perpetually dripping from the slit catching the light like molten honey as it slid down his smooth, veined shaft and pooled at his abdomen.
Abruptly, his posture stiffened, his eyes flaring with an intense, almost feral glow. Across the vast expanse of realms, he felt her: Vanity. He felt her relentless hunger, raw and intense and demonic; she was in the throes of wild abandon, so intense that it reached Andras here in Extasis. Andras's momentary surprise and intrigue turned to mindless pleasure the moment her orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, raw and unrestrained, her power roaring across space and planes; somehow, though awake, her power coursing through the Dreaming, reaching his core and filling Andras with a sensation unlike any he'd ever known. Andras's head snapped back, a deep growl of pleasure rumbling from his throat as the sensation overtook him.
"Fuck!" he snarled, his voice reverberating like thunder through the chamber as his hands gripped the arms of the throne so tightly that his knuckles whitened and the obsidian itself cracked. His hips bucked involuntarily, his cock pulsing violently as his own orgasm was torn from him; golden cum erupting in long, lustrous arcs from his cock, splattering across his chiseled torso, sliding in viscous rivulets down to pool at his abdomen. It glowed faintly, the viscous seed shimmering like liquid sunlight, carrying the undeniable power of his being. His chest heaved as he rode out the waves of pleasure, his grin widening into something feral and dangerous. Vanity. His daughter. Her connection to him was growing stronger, even if she didn't know it. But there was a malicious, selfish, aggressive undertone to the orgasm which took Andras by surprise. An element which he, an ancient Incubus, a fallen angel, demon in flesh, recognised immediately. Vanity had the energy of a Carnavite.
Lust Demons of aeons past, foot soldiers of the demon prince Carnifax, father of all Vampires. Unlike Andras and his kin, Carnavites were bred to rape, to brutalize, torture and destroy through sex. Demonic entities of pure hate-filled lust, the pleasure they took was not through the act of orgasm but through the suffering of their victims. They were, to Andras, quite distasteful. He and his kin fed on the sexual energy of mortals, of course; sometimes to the point of death. But they did it through pleasure, seduction, with the knowledge that as a mortal yielded beneath them, they were experiencing pleasures untold. It was one of the many, many reasons Andras held no court with the Vampire Lords of Carnivale, the Blood Coast; Vampires were born from the blood of Carnifax, driven by an endless hunger to consume. They were no less monstrous than the Carnavite itself, no matter how much silk and perfume they wore. And Vanity... she was exorcising herself of its influence. Andras knew not how or why she had come into contact with a Carnavite, nor how she had absorbed it's essence, but as he felt the last pulls of her orgasm matching his own, his monumental cock still hard, pulsing across his abdomen, he knew that Vanity was stronger than he had initially thought.
With a cunning, feral grin and deliberate care, he cupped his hands, gathering the thick, golden cum which had pooled across his perfect body. Vanity was stronger than he could have imagined; perhaps strong enough to defy even him, unless he acted quickly. Turning his gaze to the writhing mass of bodies below, Andras's voice sliced through the symphony of ecstasy like a blade.
"Nyxara!"
The orgy slowed as horned heads turned, and from the heaving mass rose a singular figure, her every movement exuding predatory grace. Nyxara, his most trusted majordomo, was a vision of sensual power. She stood almost six feet tall, her flawless deep ebony skin gleamed like polished onyx, stretched over a curvaceous, hourglass figure that radiated confidence and allure. Her massive, impossibly full tits swayed with each step, night-black nipples taut and pointed.
Her hips rolled as she approached, the substantial cock between her thighs standing proudly erect; beneath, heavy and smooth, her balls hung tight against the base of her cock, and between the perfect smooth orbs of her buttocks, just underneath the base of her spine where a long demonic tail protruded, where any other creatures anus would be, there was a tight, wet and warm cunt.
Her preternaturally beautiful face was framed with long flowing ebony locks which shimmered like liquid, and two small horns protruded from her forehead, curling back. Her crimson eyes burned with wicked intelligence and desire, her full lips curling into a knowing smile as she knelt before her king.
"Yes, my lord?" Her voice was a husky purr, rich with submission and barely contained hunger.
Andras reached beside his throne and found what he was looking for; a small crystalline vial. He extended his hand, letting the golden, glowing cum drip into the vial, his long pointed tongue licking the remnants from his palm, savouring his own taste. He offered the vial to Nyxara.
"Take this," he commanded, his voice dripping with authority and lust. "Find my daughter. Deliver this to her, and ensure she drinks it."
Nyxara's eyes widened slightly, her lips parting in surprise revealing perfectly white, slightly teeth as she accepted the vial. Andras leaned forward, his grin widening to reveal his own sharp, gleaming teeth. "She grows stronger with each passing hour, though she does not yet understand the truth of her power. This will help her to understand, and will make her more pliant to my whims." His eyes burned with unholy fervor. "Once she drinks this, I will have unfettered access to her in The Dreaming. I will command her to come to me, and she will be mine in ways she cannot even imagine."
Nyxara rose with feline elegance, her lips curling into a sly smile.
