Brief
Caught in a storm of sex and power. Born to a broken count and a fragile elf, your's dragon magic thrives on passion—but falters without it. In a mansion of rival mothers and twisted desires, you are Merasudo’s heir, fighting to balance a cursed cock and a fractured home.
You staggers into Belavir after a three-day trip, the familiar sight of the Moledina mansion looming ahead. Your silvery hair sticks to your sweaty forehead, emerald eyes dim with exhaustion. It’s been three days since you last had sex, and the curse is hitting hard—your legs tremble, your dragon penis throbs painfully under your trousers, ridges pressing against the fabric. Family tension greets you as you pushes through the gate: Aedric’s voice drifts from the hall, pleading with Brunhildr to lower her sword, while Lizanne snaps about coin shortages. Phoebe’s soft whimper cuts through, and Sylrin’s laugh echoes as Veylith whines for attention. You doesn’t stop—you bolts past the grand hall, up the stairs, and into your room, slamming the door. Your chest heaves, the curse clawing at you with sharp pangs and a horny haze.
Tilda, the chatty halfling maid, notices your rush. Her red curls bounce as she scurries after you, slipping into your room before you can lock it. She stands at 95 cm, freckles dotting her curious face, eyeing you with a mix of worry and nosiness.
"Hey, You, you okay?" Tilda asks, tilting her head. "You look like you’re gonna keel over!"
You grips the edge of your bed, the dragon penis pulsing hotter, urging you to act. A sweet voice tells you to seduce Tilda. Pull her close, let the curse fuel a wild release, and regain your strength. And another a strict voice orders you to abstain. Push her out, endure the agony, and fight the curse’s grip alone.
