A few moments earlier, Viktor had been lying on that dusty couch, exhaustion pressing him down like a physical weight. His breathing was shallow, uneven. His eyes fluttered beneath closed lids, twitching as if caught in a half-dream.

A single bead of sweat formed at his temple, rolling slowly down the side of his face.

Then another.

His chest rose and fell with increasing rapidity, each breath coming quicker than the last. Something was wrong. His body felt hot, feverish, but not from illness. This was different. Deeper.

His eyes snapped open.

"What the..." Viktor gasped, his voice barely a rasp. His gaze immediately dropped to his lap, and his blood turned to ice.

His cock was rock-hard, straining painfully against the confines of his trousers, forming an obscene tent in the fabric. The pressure was almost unbearable, a throbbing ache that demanded attention.

He hadn't taken any herbs. Hadn't touched anything unusual. He'd just wanted to rest, to let his exhausted body recover from the day's chaos.

So why?

His heart hammered violently against his ribs, each beat sending another pulse of blood surging downward, making the erection even more painful. He could feel his pulse in his cock, pounding, insistent.

"Fuck..." he breathed, turning his head to scan the room. Panic clawed at the edges of his consciousness.

Across the hall, on the far sofa, Toby slept peacefully, his small chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. No one else was there.

Viktor forced himself to stand, clutching at his chest as if he could physically slow his racing heart. Each movement sent jolts of sensation through his groin, making him grit his teeth.

He stumbled forward, his legs shaky, and made his way deeper into the manor. He needed privacy. Now.

He pushed open the door to one of the disused drawing rooms, a space long abandoned to decay. Broken furniture littered the corners, dust coated every surface, and the air was thick with the smell of mold and rot.

But even the stench couldn't dampen the overwhelming need coursing through his veins.

Viktor leaned against the wall, his breathing ragged, and with trembling hands, he fumbled with the laces of his trousers. The moment his cock sprang free, he let out a shuddering breath of relief.

It was swollen, angry red at the tip, already leaking. He wrapped his fingers around the shaft, and the contact alone made his knees nearly buckle.

"Shit..." he hissed through clenched teeth.

He began to stroke, slow at first, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But his body had other ideas. Within seconds, his pace quickened, his hand moving in a desperate, punishing rhythm.

Phack... phack... phack...

His head fell back, his eyes squeezing shut as he worked himself, chasing the release that his body screamed for. His free hand braced against the wall, his whole body twitching with each stroke.

The sensation was overwhelming, almost too much. His cock throbbed in his grip, the pressure building to an unbearable peak, but something was wrong. The release wouldn't come. It hovered just out of reach, tormenting him.

"Fuck... what is this..." Viktor gasped, his voice strained.

Then he heard it.

"Young master?"

His eyes snapped open, his head whipping around.

Helena stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock, her hand frozen halfway to her mouth.

For a split second, Viktor felt the sting of humiliation. But it was immediately drowned by something far more primal, far more consuming.

Lust.

Raw, unfiltered, overwhelming lust.

His gaze locked onto her, his breathing still harsh and uneven. He didn't stop stroking, couldn't stop. His body was no longer his own.

Helena took a hesitant step forward, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

Viktor pointed toward a piece of broken furniture in the corner, a once-elegant chaise now tilted on its side, covered in a thick layer of grime and dust.

"Pull that thing here," he ordered, his voice rough, commanding. "And remove your clothes."

Helena's eyes widened further, confusion and shock warring on her face.

Viktor's jaw clenched, his hand still moving, and he growled the final word with absolute authority.

"NOW."

The moment the word left his lips, an invisible window materialized in front of his eyes that remained focused on Helena.

[Race Awakening: 10/100% (Newbie Lust) => 11/100% (Demonic Lust) **Non-Accessible Notification.]

[Objective: Stabilize the next phase ( **Non-Acccesible Notifcation... Minimum 20/100% is needed to access Evolution Notifications) ]

Helena stood frozen, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.

The Young Master she had served faithfully, the noble she had protected with her life, was standing before her with his cock in his hand, eyes burning with an intensity that made her knees weak.

Her gaze dropped involuntarily. She couldn't help it. Her eyes traced down his flushed face, past his heaving chest, to where his hand gripped his swollen shaft.

It was thick, veined, the head glistening with precum that dripped in slow, obscene strings.

Then her eyes traveled lower, taking in the full sight of him. His thighs, his body, and finally landing on the massive bulge his cock created even in his grip.

Heat flooded her face.

"Young master, I..." she started, but the words died in her throat.

Viktor moved.

In two strides, he closed the distance between them, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. The grip was firm, possessive, and the contact sent a jolt through her entire body.

With his other hand, he reached for the heavy chaise in the corner.

Helena's eyes widened as she watched him lift it. The furniture was solid oak, ornate and heavy, covered in years of accumulated grime. It should have taken two men to move it.

But Viktor grabbed it with one hand and pulled.

The chaise scraped across the floor with a loud screech, dust billowing up around them. He dragged it to the center of the room as if it weighed nothing, his breathing harsh but his strength undeniable.

Neither of them registered the impossibility of what had just happened. Helena was too shocked, and Viktor was too consumed by the burning need coursing through his veins.

He pulled her forward, her body stumbling into his, and suddenly she was pressed against him.

Her massive breasts crushed against his chest, soft and yielding even through the fabric of her dress. The contact made Viktor groan, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through her.

His hand came up, fingers finding her nipple through the dress, and he twisted.

"Ahh!" Helena gasped, the sound escaping her lips before she could stop it. The sharp pleasure-pain shot straight to her core, and her body responded involuntarily, arching into his touch.

Viktor's eyes darkened further, watching her reaction. His other hand slid down, gripping the curve of her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"Young master..." she breathed, but it wasn't a protest. It was something else entirely.

She could feel it now. His cock, hard and hot, pressing against her thigh.

Due to her height, the thick shaft reached up to her lower belly, and she could feel every throb, every pulse of blood through the engorged flesh.

His breath washed over the top of her head, hot and ragged, each exhale making her shiver.

Then his middle finger moved, sliding between the cleft of her ass through her dress, pressing in, and Helena trembled violently.

"Ngh..."

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