The invitation arrived at dawn.
Not delivered by hand.
It appeared—seared into the palace door in living crimson script.
Kaito read it aloud as his girls gathered behind him, each in a mix of loose robes, tight corsets, and barely-there silk that spoke of last night's sweat still lingering on skin.
> "To Kaito Tanaka, Seed-Bound Prince of Desire, Ruler of Velvet Flame, Breaker of Velhara—"
Lilix raised an eyebrow. "They got dramatic fast."
> "You are hereby summoned to the Court of Crimson Teeth, where power is not worn—it is devoured. Attend the Feast of Flesh. Bring your harem. Or be hunted."
Nyxa cracked her knuckles. "Let them try."
Celestia's voice was quieter. "This sounds… ancient."
Aya stepped forward. "This isn't just a court. It's a blood pact society. Older than empires. Where erotic power determines rank. Every noble is a predator—and every guest is a challenge."
Kaito rolled the letter into a fist.
> "Then we attend."
---
The Court.
A castle carved into a massive, heart-shaped obsidian cliff. It pulsed—literally. As though the building itself breathed lust.
The moment they entered, heat wrapped around their skin like tongues.
Not warm.
Wet.
Every guard at the gate wore no armor—just oil and rings pierced through nipples, cocks, and clits.
Every noble lounging inside wore masks shaped like beasts—wolves, serpents, dragons—eyes glowing with hunger.
At the center, the table.
Long. Endless. Covered in fruit, wine, meats, and bodies.
Yes—naked bodies. Men and women laid across the surface, moaning as nobles drank wine from their navels, sliced peaches from their thighs, and licked whipped cream from their spines.
And at the throne—
High Countess Saria of the Crimson Teeth.
Tall. Ebony-skinned. Wrapped in a gown of living shadows. Her hair coiled like vines. Her breasts fully bare, pierced with black diamonds. Eyes like molten garnet.
> "Welcome, Flame Prince."
Her voice was a song soaked in poison.
"We've been very hungry for you."
---
Kaito stepped forward, his harem behind him—Lilix in slitted assassin silks, Celestia glowing beneath holy lingerie, Nyxa proudly nude but for her collar, Aya armored from waist up, Kaori barely covered in thin ink-stained robes, and even Seraphina glowing with defiant heat.
Saria smiled. "So many flavors. I can't decide which to taste first…"
A man beside her leaned in.
Count Vehl.
Six-foot-five. Pale, muscled, dressed in chains alone. His cock hard under sheer fabric.
> "Why not share them, Your Grace?"
Laughter followed.
Nyxa hissed. "Try me, freak."
Saria raised her hand. "Peace. This is a feast, not a raid. Yet."
She turned to Kaito.
> "You're not here just to be devoured. You're here to compete. In the oldest game of all: dominance by seduction."
A bell rang. The table quivered. The moaning servants on it arched their backs—each one glowing with pent-up erotic power.
> "The rules are simple," Saria purred. "You feast. You fuck. You survive. If you win, we offer you a throne in the Court. If you lose…"
She smiled.
> "You become the dessert."
---
Kaito stepped forward. Hands at his sides. Voice low. Confident.
> "I don't lose."
Saria grinned wide. "Then let's see if your girls can perform under pressure."
She clapped twice.
Suddenly—illusions shimmered.
Each noble conjured a sexual trap—a scenario crafted to break control.
And Kaito's harem was dragged into them.
Lilix thrown into a web of silken ropes where her every motion turned into a moan.
Celestia placed in a mock-temple, stripped and surrounded by golden statues that whispered sins into her ears.
Nyxa forced onto a throne of vibrating thorns—where only climax would set her free.
Kaori in a library of moaning books—each page turning into a living scene of her hidden fantasies.
Aya dropped into a coliseum of pleasure, battling orgasm-triggered beasts.
Seraphina faced a mirror—where her reflection bound and fucked her in perfect rhythm.
And Kaito?
He was locked in the center, caged in vines. Forced to watch. Naked. Hard. Every girl's pleasure echoing through his soul, feeding the Seed.
---
Saria approached the cage. Bent down.
Whispered into his ear.
> "So tell me, Kaito Tanaka. Can you save them… without touching them?"
Kaito gritted his teeth as the cage of living vines tightened around his chest, binding his arms behind him, forcing him to kneel with his cock fully exposed—hard, twitching, aching with stolen stimulation. Every moan from his girls echoed through the structure, turning into vibrations that teased his skin, invaded his spine, and surged through the Seed embedded in his pelvis. The vines pulsed in time with his heartbeat—no escape, no movement, no way to even close his legs.
Saria stood just outside the cage, legs spread slightly, one hand lazily gliding down between her thighs as she watched him. Her eyes glowed like a furnace ready to swallow him whole.
"Each of them," she purred, "is inside their deepest temptation. Crafted by our court from what we saw in their hearts the moment they entered. You don't get to touch them. You don't even get to command them. You must bring them back with nothing but your voice. If they submit, if they give in to their fantasy—you become ours."
The cage opened slightly, just enough for Kaito to lean forward, his voice able to echo across the room.
He didn't hesitate.
"Lilix!"
Her trial chamber shimmered into view on the far left. A spiderweb of silk ropes suspended her midair, each limb bound by glowing threads. The more she struggled, the more the ropes moved, caressing her inner thighs, her neck, her breasts. Slick fluid dripped from where a silk strand rubbed between her folds, soaked with the slow friction of the bindings teasing her clit. Her moans were muffled by a silk gag wrapped tightly between her lips.
Two masked nobles circled her—one male, one female—hands touching her with surgical precision. They whispered promises of freedom if she surrendered. Of softness without pain. Of a life without knives or scars.
Kaito's voice cut through the illusions. "Lilix. Look at me."
Her eyes snapped open.
He could see them through a sliver of magic across the cage.
"You are not weak. You are not helpless. You don't need to be saved. You chose to follow me. Remember that night under the moon? You said my name as you came, not because I made you—but because you wanted to be seen."
She moaned louder, eyes flooding with tears.
One of the masked figures slipped a finger between her legs. She convulsed. The silk around her chest tightened, nipples pressed between strands.
"I see you, Lilix. I still do. And if you let them finish you—if you give them that part of you—I'll still love you… but it won't be yours anymore."
Lilix's body trembled violently. The ropes moved faster. The climax surged through her body—but she held her breath. Bit into the gag. Her muscles tensed, refused to give release. And then—she screamed through the silk.
The ropes snapped.
She dropped, naked and sweaty, into the hands of a glowing illusion of Kaito that pulled her free and vanished.
One trial, cleared.
Kaito's head sagged, gasping. The Seed within him pulsed with both her lust and her restraint—feeding him not power, but intimacy.
"Celestia…"
Her chamber unfolded in front of him.
A divine temple dripping with golden nectar. She lay on a silk bed surrounded by animated statues of her younger self—each one kneeling, praying, repeating her old chants about purity, sin, and divine sacrifice.
But in the center stood a glowing figure of Kaito—bare-chested, golden eyes shining. He reached out, pulled her onto his lap, and began slowly thrusting into her with religious rhythm. Every stroke echoed with holy moans. Every climax was followed by absolution.
She was crying.
Her hands clutched the sheets, torn between the pleasure and the shame. Her back arched, her breasts bounced with each thrust, and her voice trembled between sobs and prayers.
Kaito leaned forward.
"Celestia. Look at me."
She blinked.
"You're not a vessel. You're not a sacrifice. You're not a nun with a cage between her legs. You're a woman who chose to stay even after I kissed your sins away."
She gasped. The Kaito illusion behind her moved faster.
He clenched the vines and growled, voice cutting the trance.
"You taught me how to love. You showed me faith that wasn't blind. Don't trade it for a fantasy of forgiveness that you don't even need."
She reached behind her, grabbed the illusion's hand, and whispered one word:
> "No."
It dissolved.
She collapsed onto the temple floor, radiant, weeping, freed.
Two down.
"Nyxa."
Her chamber was the most violent.
A throne made of vibrating thorns gripped her limbs. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Her hands were pinned behind her head, legs spread, with machines pulsing beneath her—one at her clit, another at her ass, another buried deep inside.
She was snarling, body twitching from the intense, brutal stimulation, and still refusing to break.
But Kaito knew the truth.
"Nyxa, stop fighting."
Her eyes flashed.
"What?"
"You don't need to resist anymore. Not because they win—but because I'm here. I've seen every inch of you. Your fire. Your walls. Your need to not be needed. But you're not alone anymore."
The throne pulsed harder. Her voice cracked.
"I—can't—"
"You can. You have. You will. You're stronger than the pain, but even stronger when you let someone hold it with you."
She screamed.
And the thorns shattered around her.
She dropped to her knees, panting, one hand between her thighs, soaked—but not broken.
Three.
Kaito's body was shaking. His cock was leaking pre-cum now, pulsing, desperate. His body wanted release. But he pushed forward.
"Kaori…"
Her chamber was silent. A black library. Books floated in the air, pages whispering her fantasies—of being noticed, dominated, drowned in attention.
She stood in the center, bent over a desk, an illusion of Kaito behind her, whispering soft praise in her ear as he slowly fucked her from behind.
"I see you. I see you. I see you," it repeated with every thrust.
Kaori's face twisted in ecstasy and guilt.
Kaito whispered.
"You never needed me to say it over and over. You needed me to mean it."
She opened her eyes.
"I do," he said. "Kaori. I've always seen you. I just didn't know how to speak your language. But I'm learning."
Her knees buckled.
The illusion vanished.
She clutched a book to her chest and sobbed.
Four.
"Aya."
The arena roared. A beast—horned, slick, muscled—lunged at her, its cock twice the size of her arm. It struck with each roar. Her armor cracked. Her body was already scratched, bruised, legs shaking.
But she stood tall.
Kaito grinned despite the pain. "Aya. You're a warrior. You don't need to prove anything. Not to me. Not to them. Just hold your ground."
She smiled.
Then grabbed the beast by the horn, flipped over it, and punched it in the dick with a blast of holy magic.
It screamed.
Then exploded.
Five.
Only one left.
"Seraphina…"
Her chamber was mirrored infinity.
Her reflection bound her—legs spread, nipples clamped, wrists chained to floating silver rings. The other Seraphina rode her, moaning, demanding, whispering that she was always the perfect one.
Seraphina stared at her reflection with hate and shame.
Kaito's voice dropped to a whisper.
"You are not her. You never were. You didn't fall from grace—you rose from chains. You're more than a goddess. You're a woman now."
She looked up.
"You're not a copy," he said. "You're mine. And I'm yours."
She bit her lip. "Then take me out."
The mirror shattered.
Six.
The vines holding Kaito broke.
He collapsed forward, gasping, cock soaked, body vibrating.
Saria stood above him, lips parted.
"You won… all six."
He looked up, sweat dripping, body glowing with power.
"You said this was a court of predators," he said. "Then understand this—I'm the kind that mates for life."
The feast had gone silent. The nobles—once moaning, laughing, feeding off the erotic chaos—now stood frozen. Count Vehl rose slowly, the chainmail across his broad shoulders glinting red beneath the court's low-burning torches. His black trousers strained at the thigh, leaving little to the imagination—especially with the heavy bulge pulsing beneath, wet with anticipation.
Kaito's legs were still trembling from the trials, his body overheated, the Seed within him now overloaded by the climax-denied surge of six girls' restrained lust. Every breath he took felt like it dragged heat straight from his core.
He turned—slowly—to face the Count. Muscles still sore. Cock still twitching. But eyes sharp.
"Not interested," he said flatly.
Vehl tilted his head. "Not a question."
The High Countess Saria licked her lips as she stepped back from the throne.
> "The court accepts his challenge. If you defeat Count Vehl in the Ritual of Binding, you ascend as King of the Crimson Teeth. If he wins…" her voice lowered, dripping heat, "you become his bound consort—for one night, or forever. Depending on how much he enjoys you."
Lilix stepped forward immediately, blades hissing from her wrists. "Over my dead fucking—"
Kaito raised a hand. "No."
She froze.
He stepped forward.
Nude.
Hard.
Glowing with the chaotic swirl of six sacred bonds surging inside him.
"I'll face him."
---
The arena was a pit made of black velvet and red stone. Candles burned from every angle. Chains dangled from above—some ornamental, some clearly not.
Vehl stepped down shirtless. No weapons. No games. Just his fists… and his desire.
His voice was low, gravel wrapped in smoke. "I've devoured kings. Fucked gods until they begged. You want to claim power? Then learn what it means to be taken by someone who doesn't flinch at love."
Kaito narrowed his eyes. "You think being gentle is weak. That surrender is defeat. But what you call prey—I call bond."
Vehl lunged.
Kaito dodged—barely.
Their bodies collided with the force of thunder. Vehl's hand closed around Kaito's throat, lifting him easily into the air before slamming him down against a velvet platform soaked with aphrodisiac oil.
Kaito gasped, vision flashing. The Seed flared inside him, trying to fight—but also tempted, pulling threads of curiosity, arousal, submission from his own lust-bloated core.
Vehl straddled him, gripping his wrists, grinding their hips together.
> "You don't even know how much of yourself wants this."
Kaito growled, arching upward, their erections pressing hot against each other.
> "Maybe I do," he hissed. "But I choose who I give it to."
Vehl leaned down, lips brushing his ear.
"Then submit to win. Or fight to lose."
---
The ritual began.
Their bodies moved in a rhythm of war and lust. Every punch, every roll, every hold sent shockwaves of erotic power through the arena.
Kaito flipped Vehl once—only for the count to wrap his legs around him, pinning their cocks between slick abs, grinding against him until both were gasping.
Kaito moaned once—just once—and Vehl seized on it, hands tangled in Kaito's hair, pulling him into a brutal, claiming kiss.
Kaito's fingers dug into his back, drawing blood.
But he didn't push away.
Instead, he twisted—using the kiss as distraction—before locking his legs around Vehl's waist, reversing their positions again.
He shoved the Count down onto the velvet platform.
Chest to chest.
Cock to cock.
Eyes locked.
> "You don't get to take me," Kaito whispered. "You have to be invited."
Vehl's eyes widened—just for a second.
Then Kaito thrust his hips—hard.
Their climax hit at the same time.
Power surged through the arena.
A ring of red and gold exploded from the platform, throwing every noble back.
Saria gasped.
The throne cracked.
And when the light faded—
Kaito stood on top of Vehl's chest.
Breathing hard.
Seed glowing.
And Vehl?
Laughing.
A single, rumbling sound.
He sat up, covered in sweat, blood, and cum.
Then knelt.
Head bowed.
> "King of Teeth," he murmured. "Claim your court."
---
The crowd roared.
The girls rushed the platform, Kaori collapsing against his side, Nyxa grabbing his arm like a tether, Celestia weeping openly as she wrapped herself around his back. Lilix kissed his shoulder like it was sacred. Aya stood just beside him, silent but proud. Seraphina dropped to her knees and kissed his thigh.
He stood—taller than ever.
Crowned not by conquest…
But by connection.
---