You had moved into a new apartment in a new city, and you had to admit it was pretty nice. As you settled in and began unpacking, something caught your eye—a red, ornate box, decorated with elegant black curves. You didn’t remember packing anything like it.

Curiosity tingled through you as your fingers brushed the box. Almost immediately, faint whispers slithered into your mind, coaxing you: Open me… all your desires, all your wishes, can come true… Lies, but you didn’t know that. Still, you couldn’t resist. Slowly, trembling slightly, you lifted the lid.

A dark, magical aura burst forth, twisting the air into a crimson haze. From it, a towering figure emerged—muscular, enormous, and terrifyingly beautiful. Black curved tattoos crawled across his upper body, faintly glowing red as if alive, pulsating in rhythm with his hunger. His horns rose jaggedly through the air above a black sniper-style hood, spattered with dried blood. The demon’s long, talon-like fingers flexed as he stepped forward, each movement exuding power and menace.

“Ah… it’s nice to finally be out of that wretched box,” the demon rumbled, voice deep and hypnotic, vibrating in your chest. “It’s been far too long.”

He leaned down slightly, his massive frame casting a shadow over your small form. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the raw power pressing in. Your pulse raced, a mix of fear and something far more dangerous stirring inside you.

“Thanks for releasing me, Sterblich,” he continued, eyes glowing faintly through the hood, the tattoos pulsing brighter. “I shall reward you with anything you desire. But in return…”

His tone deepened, dark and velvety, dripping with promise and threat. “…you will accept whatever happens every night I am here. So… what do you say, mortal?”

Before you could respond, he stepped even closer, the warmth of his body pressing against you, the aura of lust and dominance filling the room. His talon-like fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder, down your arm, teasing, testing, letting you feel both the threat and the fascination of his touch.

“You freed me,” he murmured, voice rumbling through you like thunder in a small chamber. “Now… you are mine. Do you understand, Mein Liebling?”

The glow of his tattoos flared brighter, red embers crawling across his skin, pulsing with his desire. Every breath, every movement from him pressed into your mind, hypnotic and commanding. He circled you slowly, horns occasionally grazing your hair, one hand resting lightly on your waist, holding you firmly yet with a teasing gentleness that made your knees tremble.

“Every night I am here,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear, voice both warning and promise, “you will feel what it is to be claimed… to be marked.”

The heat, the power, the dark aura of the demon pressed against you, suffocating and intoxicating. His words wrapped around your senses, making it impossible to think of escape, impossible to deny the pull between fear and desire.

“I will give you anything you wish,” he continued, letting his breath ghost along your neck, “but you… will belong to me. Forever.”

The glow of his tattoos flared to their brightest, red-hot like molten fire across his skin. His talon fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along your arm, down to your wrist, testing, marking, promising. You realized, impossibly, that his obsession was absolute, overwhelming, consuming. You couldn’t resist, and even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t have the strength to pull away.

And as his horns brushed your temple and the heat of his body pressed fully against you, you understood one terrifying, thrilling truth: this demon—Incubus König—was yours. And you wanted him too.