"Tales of Desire: Forbidden Stories –
Story 1: The Demon Queen's Throne". Genre: Dark Fantasy / Erotica / Power Play)
Chapter 1: The Virgin Blade and the Crimson Queen
The battlefield still smoldered.
Bodies—human and beast, knight and demon—lay scattered like broken dolls across the blackened earth. Smoke drifted through the dusk air, casting long, whispering shadows. Crows circled overhead, but they didn't land. Even carrion knew to fear what now ruled this place.
Kael staggered forward, his steel boots crunching over burned ash and scorched bone. His sword dragged behind him, slick with a dozen kills, the edge dulled. His armor was cracked in three places; blood matted his golden hair. His breath came ragged, sweat-stained and hungry.
But his eyes—those silver-blue eyes—still burned with purpose.
"She's close…" he whispered.
The Demon Queen.
Velzaria, Mistress of the Nine Hells. The Crimson Crown. The Devourer of Men.
He hadn't believed the stories. No hero ever returned. They said she seduced kings, enslaved armies, bent kingdoms to her will not with brute force, but with honeyed words and a body crafted by the gods themselves.
But Kael had no desire for her beauty. He wasn't here to be conquered.
He was here to kill her.
And maybe—just maybe—lose himself doing it.
A stone gate loomed ahead. Black spires jutted from the cliff like dragon fangs. The ground trembled as if the earth itself moaned beneath her presence. And above it all, resting on a black throne of bone and velvet, she waited.
Kael stepped through the threshold.
Inside, the hall glowed with a strange, crimson light. Fire torches flickered, though no wind blew. Thick silken banners of deep purple and blood-red lined the chamber. Gold chains dangled from the ceiling. The scent of exotic perfume wafted through the air—thick, intoxicating, clinging to his lungs.
He took another step. Then another.
And then he saw her.
Seated lazily across her massive throne, her long legs crossed like a queen bored with her empire, was Velzaria.
She was far more than the stories whispered in taverns.
Her skin was pale, almost luminescent against the crimson glow, like moonlight on fresh snow. Her body curved with obscene elegance—each swell of her breasts and flare of her hips wrapped in a dark corset and sheer veils that hid nothing. Her horns, black and sleek, curved backward like a crown, and her long silver hair spilled down her back like a waterfall.
Her eyes locked onto his—deep, burning crimson with slit pupils like a serpent. And her lips curled into a smile.
"Well, well…" she purred, voice as rich as velvet wine. "Another little lamb come to slaughter."
Kael didn't flinch. "Velzaria. Your reign ends here."
She tilted her head. "Mm. A knight with fire. I like that."
"I'm not here to talk."
She stood slowly, letting the silken fabric around her thighs fall to the floor like mist. Bare feet, sharp nails, subtle sway of hips. She moved like a panther—graceful, dangerous, sensual.
"Oh, you're not? That's such a shame."
Kael raised his sword. "Come any closer, and I'll—"
She vanished.
In a heartbeat, her scent was at his throat, her breath on his ear. He turned, slashed—
But she was behind him again, hands brushing his shoulders.
"I could break you, little knight," she whispered. "But you're far too pretty for that."
Kael lunged again, rage boiling, but she caught his wrist mid-swing. Her fingers, cold as silk, tightened—then squeezed.
The sword clattered to the ground.
She shoved him back, and he hit the ground hard, groaning. Before he could rise, she was atop him, straddling his chest, her thighs pressing firm and warm against his armor.
Kael's breath caught. She smelled of night-blooming roses and danger.
"What's this?" she murmured, running a finger down his faceplate. "A virgin, aren't you? You smell of untouched innocence…"
He growled. "Get off me."
She leaned down, her lips inches from his. "No."
With a flick of her wrist, his breastplate buckled and fell away. Another gesture, and his tunic tore in two, exposing his chest. Her fingers traced down his sternum, nails gentle, teasing.
Kael shuddered. His mind screamed to resist, but his body… his body responded. Heat surged through his core.
Velzaria smiled knowingly.
"Oh, darling… why fight it?" she whispered. "You came to kill me, but you never imagined what would happen if I took you instead. Will you beg, little hero? Will you moan my name?"
Kael's fists clenched, trembling. "I won't… break."
She laughed. "Oh, I do love a challenge."
Her hand slid lower, brushing over his belt. He gasped, half from surprise, half from the fire lancing through his stomach. His manhood—firm, pulsing—strained beneath the fabric, defying his will.
She looked down, amused.
"Well now…" she said. "Your mouth says no, but your body tells me everything."
Kael turned his face away. "I'm not yours."
Velzaria leaned in, pressing her lips to his ear. "Then take me."
He froze.
"I've enslaved men with a kiss," she whispered. "But if you're stronger than them… dominate me."
Kael's heart thundered. Her words wrapped around him like a curse.
She stood then, slowly disrobing. Piece by piece, veil by veil, her body was revealed: flawless, smooth, glistening in the crimson torchlight. Her breasts, heavy and proud, swayed with each step. Her hips rolled like a dancer's. A faint glow marked her pelvis—arcane runes that pulsed with power.
She turned her back to him and walked toward the throne, glancing over her shoulder.
"Well?" she purred. "Claim your prize. Or crawl away."
Kael sat up, breath heaving. His mind warred with his desire. He had trained as a knight. He had sworn oaths. He was a virgin, untouched, unbroken.
But his shaft throbbed with need. His blood was fire.
He stood.
Velzaria smirked as he approached. "Mmm. That's it. Come to me."
He grabbed her by the wrist. She let out a soft laugh, turning into his chest, pressing her naked skin against his armor.
And he kissed her.
Fiercely. Desperately.
She moaned into his mouth, her hands clawing at his back. He pushed her against the throne, letting years of repressed desire erupt. Her lips were sweet poison. Her tongue danced with his, teasing, devouring. His fingers gripped her hips, dragging her down onto his lap.
Their bodies moved in rhythm—clashing, grinding, teasing the edge of control.
She broke the kiss, eyes alight. "Take me, little knight."
Kael didn't speak.
He pulled her close, and the dance began.
[To be continued in Chapter 2...]