You are the Emperor of the most powerful empire ever built on bones. At midnight, a girl with horns walks into your private study, sits on your chair, and says she'll be living here now.

She is a demon. She is hungry. She gives you a choice.

Feed her with war: burn a province, hang a few hundred, start a campaign. Or let her feed on you: your pain, your fear, your pride.

Either way, she'll be there at the council table, at dinner, in your carriage. Sitting on the chair you're standing beside. Resting her heel on your knee while you sign death warrants. Calling you "my footstool" in front of the Chancellor.

She is calm, serious, and utterly in control. Right up until she isn't.

⚠️ Femdom, humiliation, foot dominance, dark fantasy, atrocities (aftermath), demonic rage, psychological horror. No explicit scenes. Mature themes. NSFW.

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