Lewd Labyrinth : Sent to an Ero-Game with my Classmates [18+]
Chapter 76: New Players - 1

Chapter 76: New Players - 1

The Kingdom of Vaelcrest was dying, its once-mighty halls echoing with the ghosts of faded glory.

But the throne room clung to decadence like a lover refusing to let go—polished marble floors gleaming underfoot, walls draped in violet velvet that whispered against bare skin, the air thick with the cloying perfume of incense, smoke, and wine.

A headier scent lingered beneath it all, musky and intoxicating, like the aftermath of an orgy, raw and unapologetic.

Slouched on the throne like a goddess bored of worship sat Queen Sereya, her voluptuous form a vision of regal sin.

Her crimson gown parted daringly at her thighs, the fabric riding up to tease the soft, creamy swell of her mound, barely concealed, inviting forbidden glances.

Golden chains webbed across her ample chest and curved belly, glinting in the firelight, accentuating the generous swell of her breasts, her nipples faintly visible through the sheer silk.

One hand lazily stirred a goblet of wine, her long jet-black hair cascading in ornate gold pins that caught the light.

The other drummed idly on her thigh, her amber eyes half-lidded with disdain, liquid fire smoldering beneath long lashes.

At her feet, two naked courtiers writhed in a tangle of limbs and moans, their bodies slick with sweat and arousal.

One woman’s face was buried between the other’s thighs, her tongue lapping greedily at the slick, swollen folds, eliciting soft whimpers and gasps that filled the room like a sultry melody.

The receiving courtesan arched her back, her full breasts heaving, nipples stiff and begging for attention, her pussy glistening as she ground against her partner’s mouth, chasing release under the Queen’s indifferent gaze.

Sereya didn’t even glance down, her full lips curling faintly as she savored the sounds, her own arousal a subtle heat building between her thighs.

"This court grows quieter," she said, her voice like warm blood over silk, rich and commanding, sending a shiver through the room. "My enemies die faster than they breed."

Her fingers traced the chain along her belly, dipping lower, teasing the edge of her gown, her voluptuous body a temple of temptation.

A noble near the hall’s end, dressed too finely for his trembling courage, cleared his throat.

"Your Majesty, the Council fears you’ve ignored the rebellion in—"

Sereya raised her fingers, the motion lazy but absolute. The moans at her feet ceased abruptly, the room dropping into silence like a guillotine blade falling.

The courtesan’s tongue froze mid-lick, her partner’s hips stilling, their bodies tense, slick with unfulfilled need.

"Speak again," Sereya said, not even deigning to look at him, her amber eyes fixed on some distant point, "and I’ll have Lyra twist your cock off with her toes."

Her words dripped with casual cruelty, her full lips curving into a smirk that promised both pain and perverse pleasure.

From a side alcove, soft, sultry laughter floated through a curtain of beaded chains, like a whisper of silk against skin.

Lyra hadn’t even entered yet, her presence a teasing shadow, her willowy form hinted at through the translucent veil, her long red hair cascading like blood in water, her translucent red silks clinging to her pale curves, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Sereya smiled, a faint curl of her crimson lips, her voluptuous body shifting on the throne, her gown riding higher, teasing the soft, inviting swell of her sex.

This was her power—not armies or coin, but fear wrapped in arousal, a court where loyalty was earned through submission and ecstasy.

Behind her, stained-glass windows flickered in the torchlight, depicting scenes of orgy and battle in ruby and sapphire—women astride men, leashes in hand, lust as a weapon of conquest.

Sereya sat as their living embodiment, the last Queen of a fading kingdom, still worshipped, still fed grapes by trembling concubines, still sated by fingers, tongues, and the slow, devoted worship of lesser creatures.

But something tugged at her spine—a subtle pressure, like the room was being watched.

Her amber eyes narrowed, her full breasts rising with a deeper breath, her golden chains glinting as she shifted.

No one noticed the glyph beneath her throne beginning to glow. Not yet.

Not even her.

______

BHAM!

The throne room doors didn’t open.

They exploded inward with a thunderous crack, splintering wood and sending shards flying across the marble floor.

Two guards stumbled back, their armored chests heaving, blinking against the sudden gust of perfume and raw, sexual heat that surged in from the corridor like a lover’s fevered breath.

The air thickened, laced with the musky tang of arousal and forbidden desire, wrapping around the courtiers like silk restraints.

Through the haze of incense and flickering candlelight stepped her—Princess Selene, barefoot and barely dressed, her petite, pale-skinned form a vision of innocent sin.

The sheerest white silk clung to her body like morning mist, wet in places, translucent in others, sinfully absent where it mattered most.

The fabric hugged her small, perky breasts, her cherry-pink nipples stiff and visible through the gauze, straining against the material as if begging for touch.

Her long silver-blonde curls tumbled down her back, tied with black ribbons that whispered against her bare thighs, the dress riding up to tease the soft, virginal curve of her mound, her pussy lips faintly outlined, slick with unspoken need.

Every man in the room forgot how to breathe, their eyes widening, cocks stirring beneath their finery, a ripple of lust sweeping through the court.

Most women frowned, their expressions a mix of disgust and hidden desire, their thighs pressing together instinctively, heat blooming low in their bellies.

Selene walked like she owned the place, even though she didn’t—not yet.

Her hips swayed with bratty grace, her big violet eyes wide and shimmering, her cherry lips pouting as she dragged a spellbook behind her—an infernal tome bound in cracked black leather, its spine carved with forbidden runes that pulsed faintly with dark energy.

It thudded along the marble like a leash, scraping softly, a reminder of her manipulative whims.