A Night of Flesh, Power, and Ceremony
The moon rose blood-red above the Palace of Ten Thousand Moans, casting shadows shaped like writhing bodies across the silken banners. Tonight, the imperial court was silent — not with fear, but with anticipation.
It was the Divine Harem Feast, a rare night when the Emperor's inner circle gathered not for war, but for pleasure — a celebration of conquest, control, and cultivation.
And at the center of it all… you sat upon the Flesh Table.
The Flesh Table of Eternal Bliss
The banquet was a masterpiece of living art — an enormous table crafted not from jade or gold, but from your own harem.
Naked concubines lay sprawled across the lacquered wood, their bodies positioned into elegant poses. Each one supported a tray of divine delicacies — fruits dripping with immortal nectar, roasted spirit-beasts, and dishes infused with aphrodisiacs.
Plates rested on their backs, thighs, and breasts, their bodies trembling with excitement and discipline. Each movement was deliberate, trained, sensual.
Their eyes never strayed from you.
At the head of the table, you reclined — robes open, your aura blazing like a furnace.
Your Qi pulsed in rhythm with the feast, each bite drawing in Yin energy from the food and the women holding it. Your cultivation surged with every swallow, your golden core simmering just beneath the skin.
Entertainment of Submission
Around the table, other concubines danced, kissed, and pleasured each other on command.
One pair of fox-kin maidens tangled together beneath incense smoke, their moans blending into music.
A dragon-blooded courtesan wept joyfully as she massaged your legs with her cheeks, whispering prayers into your skin.
Across from you, a pair of heavenly elves were ordered to feed one another grapes from their mouths — trembling as they obeyed.
You spoke calmly, a cruel smile on your lips.
"You are my feast, my entertainment, and my cultivation. Your pleasure is mine. Your obedience... my harvest."
The Ritual of Consumption
As the final phase of the ceremony began, your high priestess, draped in sheer crimson, approached.
In her hands was a bowl of Moonlit Pomegranate Nectar, fermented over a thousand nights beneath your palace.
She knelt, holding it above her head.
"Drink, my Emperor. Absorb the essence of conquest."
You drank — and the room shivered.
Your aura exploded outward, flooding the table in crimson-gold energy. Every woman moaned — not in pain, but in euphoric submission, their bodies glowing as you drained their Yin essence, refining it into pure cultivation energy.
Their loyalty empowered your body. Their pleasure strengthened your soul. Their surrender… was your evolution.
A New Tier of Power
By the end of the feast:
You had ascended to a new realm of power. Your spiritual sea surged with celestial fire.
The concubines, though drained, wore expressions of bliss — knowing their sacrifice made you even more invincible.
A black star flickered in your dantian — the sign of a dark ascension, feared by gods and demons alike.
As you stood, the room fell into silence.
"The feast is over," you declared. "Tomorrow, we claim the Oracle."