If the name of Maynard James Keenan’s latest bastard brainchild isn’t already loaded with overtly sexual connotations, then maybe its mascot — a CGI demon dominatrix — will whip the point home. Following the oh-so-subtle V is for Vagina, Conditions of My Parole often plays like the soundtrack to a heavy-metal porno in hell’s winery — it’s the kind of record where lyrical decadence commingles with sonic opulence. Longtime fans of Keenan’s other outfits, Tool and A Perfect Circle, know what to expect: Conditions of My Parole ranges from soft electro, where Maynard harmonizes with sensual female vocals, to thrusting guitars with a snarling metallic edge. On the mature ode “Monsoons,” drum machines skitter underneath soothing, echoing vocals, while the title track thrives on a crunching chug vaguely reminiscent of “Stinkfist.” Lyrical schizophrenia abounds; Parole boasts futuristic pirate anthems, run-ins with the law and, of course, plenty of songs devoted to humanity’s foremost preoccupation: sex.