Seated in the back of the room, overlooking the carnal pleasures exhibited before him, Thulsa Doom smiled internally. To think that just fifteen years before, he had desperately sought Steel. That Steel had meant more to him than gold, jewels, or diamonds. No, the power he sought was here. The strength and power of Flesh. Against Flesh, Steel was nothing.
It had not taken him long to establish this new philosophy. There was no shortage of disillusioned youth in the world, tired of the old ways. By providing them with a means to embrace the new, they flocked to him in their hundreds, upon hundreds, swelling his ranks immensely. Now, he controlled vast tracts of the world, and the rest was only a matter of time. It had all been so simple, almost too easy.
He leaned back a little in his chair, eyes sliding across the room. Several dozen of his faithful in the throes of ecstacy. He noted the final strip of cloth leaving a body, the beauty of them all in plain sight. Some pleasured themselves. Others, one another. The heady energies being released, which he could tap into, and augment his own vitality, his own power.
Turning his gaze to his right, he noted his latest prize, as naked as the others. With this princess, he could claim her father's throne as his own. He was the only one fully covered. A robe, held in place with a waistband carrying the symbol of the Cult of Set, and a headpiece. The night was drawing on now, and he had a few things he needed to do to secure his power, and maintain his faith to his Diety, the Great Set.