Lewd Labyrinth : Sent to an Ero-Game with my Classmates [18+]
Chapter 77: New Players - 2

Chapter 77: New Players - 2

"Mother," Selene said sweetly, stopping ten feet from the throne, her voice a melodic purr that belied her spoiled innocence.

"You didn’t invite me to your little whore gathering." Her violet eyes glinted with mischief, her sheer dress shifting to reveal more of her pale thighs, the faint outline of her untouched pussy teasing the court.

Sereya didn’t flinch, her voluptuous body lounging on the throne, her crimson gown parting further to expose the creamy swell of her inner thighs, her full breasts straining against the golden chains.

"Because I thought you’d be busy playing with dolls. Or the corpses of your tutors," she replied, her voice like warm blood over silk, rich and commanding, her amber eyes half-lidded with disdain.

Selene giggled, the sound sharp, bright, and utterly wrong, sending a shiver through the room.

She spun slowly, her silk dress fluttering up, flashing the soft, virginal curve of her bare ass, her "accidental" exhibitionism a tease that made courtiers shift uncomfortably, cocks hardening, pussies dampening.

"Tutors are boring," she pouted, her cherry lips curving into a manipulative smile.

"I want to know how it feels. What it’s like to burn when someone touches you. To scream and moan and beg like those sluts in your chambers."

A ripple of scandal swept through the court, gasps and whispers mingling with the undercurrent of arousal, the air growing thicker as hidden desires stirred.

Selene plopped down cross-legged in the hall’s center, her sheer dress riding up to expose the soft, pink lips of her virgin pussy, glistening faintly with her growing excitement, her innocent face contrasting the lewd display.

Her small breasts bounced with the motion, nipples pressing against the gauze.

"I’m the heir, am I not?" she whispered, her violet eyes wide and shimmering, feigned innocence masking her bratty manipulation.

"Shouldn’t I learn how to command with my cunt like you?"

Sereya sipped her wine, her full lips curling faintly, her voluptuous thighs shifting, the gown teasing the edge of her own arousal.

"You’re not ready to command anything but your own bratty little urges."

Selene pouted, her cherry lips glistening as she licked them slowly, her tongue tracing the curve with deliberate sensuality.

"That’s why I opened the vault."

Sereya’s goblet paused mid-air, her amber eyes narrowing, the room dropping into a tense silence.

All sound ceased—the courtesans at her feet freezing mid-moan, their slick bodies still, the court holding its breath.

"You what?" Sereya’s voice was a low, dangerous purr, her full breasts rising with a deeper breath, her golden chains glinting as she leaned forward.

Selene giggled again, her sharp laughter filling the hall, her body shifting to expose more of her sheer-covered mound, her virgin pussy lips parting slightly, a faint wetness betraying her excitement. "I opened the old vault beneath the chapel.

The one with the glowing locks and that statue of the bound god with a cock longer than my arm."

A concubine gasped, her thighs pressing together, her arousal evident in the flush creeping up her neck.

Sereya stood, her crimson gown flowing like blood, parting to reveal the soft, inviting curve of her sex, her voluptuous body radiating imperial power.

Selene tilted her head, her violet eyes wide and innocent, but her pout twisted into something darker.

"I read the first glyph. It told me to ’offer the royal fruit,’ and I wasn’t going to bleed on a fucking stone slab," Selene whispered, her voice dripping with manipulative sweetness.

"So I... touched myself." She licked her lips slowly, her hand trailing down her thigh, brushing the edge of her sheer dress, teasing the court with the promise of more.

The scandal deepened, whispers turning to murmurs, the air growing heavier with unspoken desires.

"And now my dreams are wet every night," Selene continued, her voice a sultry whisper, her body shifting to accentuate the curve of her small breasts, her nipples stiff against the gauze.

"Wet with vines. With chains. With a voice that whispers my name and tells me I’ll never be a girl again."

She looked up at the court, her expression wild, desperate, her violet eyes shimmering with twisted excitement.

"Something’s coming for us." Her cherry lips curled into a smile, her sheer dress riding higher, exposing the soft, glistening lips of her virgin pussy.

"I want it to."

.

.

.

The doors hadn’t even finished swinging shut behind Selene when another sound cut through the chamber: the heavy thud of steel boots on marble, armor plates grinding over taut muscle with each heavy step.

The air shifted, charged with a new tension—raw, unyielding, laced with the faint scent of sweat and iron.

A figure stormed into the throne room—not gliding or sauntering, but marching like she was five seconds from unsheathing her blade and sending someone’s head crashing through a pillar.

Dame Elira Blacksteel, her muscular frame clad in blackened armor scarred from battles she’d never flinched from, her short silver hair swept back by dried sweat, faded warpaint smudged around her fierce eyes.

Her tattooed arm flexed as her hand rested on the pommel of her sword, the infernal script inked into her skin seeming to pulse with restrained fury.

She flicked a sealed scroll across the floor, its edge skidding to a stop at the Queen’s feet.

"There’s fire in the streets. Six outer districts have declared independence. They’ve taken your statue, melted it, and turned it into cock rings for rebels," Elira growled, her voice rough, edged with disdain, her stoic facade barely masking the fire burning within.

Sereya raised an eyebrow, her voluptuous body shifting on the throne, her crimson gown parting further to tease the soft curve of her mound, her full breasts straining against the golden chains.

"Charming. Did you come to report treason, or to stroke your ego in front of wet nobility?" Her amber eyes glinted with intrigue, her full lips curling faintly, her arousal a subtle undercurrent in the lazy drum of her fingers on her thigh.

Elira’s eyes slid across the room, her lip curling in disgust at the moaning concubines tangled at Sereya’s feet—their slick bodies writhing, pussies glistening, nipples stiff under the haze of incense.