The kick was enough to send the heavy metal door flying off its hinges. Outside the basement, a nondescript corridor with a torch on the wall waited for Cyril.

"Fuck the torch." Cyril swore as he passed. He could see clearly in the dark. What he couldn't do now was control his body as it sought to kill. "Where is the lady with the dog? Fuck!"

Cyril was angry, and he had every right to be. After all, as much as it was nice to be at the mercy of two beautiful women, it was best to ask permission first.

The nondescript corridor ended in a stairway leading up, and Cyril quickly reached another door. This door was not very strong, so it did not just fly off its hinges, but went flying for several meters.

Cyril went out into a new corridor, this time a fairly decent one. Soft crimson carpets covered the floor, and to the left and right, Cyril noticed doors with serial numbers.

He didn't check the rooms, hoping to run into someone in the spacious hallway. The place looked like a hotel, and Cyril knew that there had to be some sort of common areas.

When he turned the corner, he actually met a girl he already knew. The red floor-length dress made Cyril feel instantly aroused, but her body wasn't going to take revenge on her for the humiliation in the basement.

"Lord, you are back!" The girl exclaimed, and immediately fell to her knees. The slit in her long dress tore at the seam, exposing pale, smooth legs, and the girl squealed as she looked into Cyril's eyes.

When she saw the primal fire in his eyes, she immediately grabbed her crotch and moaned languidly, smiling at Cyril. He came closer, grabbed her by the throat, lifted her up, and pinned her against the wall.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you?" He growled in a voice that wasn't his own.

'Calm down, body, fucking calm down!' He shouted to himself, not wanting to strangle the beauty.

"Argh…"

The girl couldn't speak, her eyes wide and her hands clutching at Cyril's arm. He loosened his grip a little.

"We are succubi, demons of lust. Why don't you recognize us, Lord?"

"Because I'm Cyril, motherfucker! Kiril from the Earth!" He cried, controlling his grip with difficulty. "What's happening to me!?"

"I, argh, I don't know why you…"

"Body, fuck! I told you to stop!"

Cyril squeezed his eyes shut in pain and frustration as the girl hung limp and lifeless. Cyril screamed and let go of the useless corpse.

This beauty met him when he arrived at Madame de Mons's, and led him to the old woman through the fragrant garden. Now she fell to the floor with a thud, forever losing the charm of a warm female body.

Cyril's heart turned hard as he tried to push away the unbearable feelings. How many deaths had happened along the way in this new world? Ten? He didn't even try to count. Too much to stay an ordinary person.

Soon he met another girl. Beautiful, slender, and tall as a ballerina, she first dropped the tea tray and then collapsed to her knees on the floor.

A few steps remained between her and Cyril when the stranger uttered a familiar phrase.

"My Lord! Such happiness!"

This beauty didn't have time to grab the crotch to drive in a gentle finger. As soon as the words of servile admiration left her lips, Cyril broke into a run. In a split second, he reached the ballerina and kicked through the admiring skull.

He leaned over her, burning with the anger of incomprehension.

"Stop you fucking worshipping! Who the fuck am I? Ahhh!"

Cyril yelled to vent his anger, then straightened up and began to breathe.

"Body, stop! Calm the fuck down! Breathe, Cyril. Breathe, bro, it's okay. You're safe."

he stood there for a minute and then finally he felt calmer and more able to control his body. He wiggled his toes first on the soft carpet, then moved his hands and leaned forward to make sure that he was doing all these things himself.

He wouldn't be so angry if the kneeling beauties could at least explain what was happening to him. But all they were able to do was first get him drugged, then lock him in the basement, turning him into a sex slave, and finish the fun by turning themselves into monsters.

"Succubi." He whispered. "The demons of lust call me Lord. Does this mean?.."

The idea seemed too improbable to say out loud. Besides, Cyril had never heard of any demon lords.

He continued along the deserted corridors until he came to a pair of tall double doors.

He pushed open one of the doors and stepped out into the spacious dining room. In front of him was a long table covered with various dishes, and at the head of the table sat Madame de Mons.

Madame de Mons rose from the table and bowed her head slightly.

"The young man turned out to be the most welcome guest." Madame smiled, and a dog popped out from under the table.

Before Cyril could reply, the annoying dog suddenly grew in size and took the form of a thoroughbred hound. It would have been a normal hound if it hadn't been covered in flames.

'What the fuck?' Cyril whispered to himself, and the dog dropped to its front paws and whined piteously.