Reincarnated into a Femdom Fantasy World (18+)-Chapter 11: back off

Jake lay sprawled on the crimson carpet, his chest heaving, his sweat-slicked body trembling with exhaustion as the afterglow of Kalia and Mara's relentless conquest pulsed through him, his limbs heavy as stone, his breath ragged in the spiced air of the luxurious chamber.

The violet velvet walls shimmered faintly under the chandelier's golden light, the room still thick with the musky scent of their union—earthy and sweet from Kalia, spiced and warm from Mara—mingling with his own sweat, a heady cocktail that clung to his skin.

Kalia and Mara lounged beside him, their mature curves glistening, their holes dripping with his seed, their satisfied smiles glowing as they stretched languidly, their hands brushing his thighs with lingering tenderness.

Kalia propped herself up on one elbow, her green tail flicking lazily, her tight gown still hiked around her hips as she purred, "Ready for round two, sweet boy? Mama's still got room for more of you." Her voice was a sultry tease, her heavy breasts swaying as she shifted, her earthy scent intensifying as she leaned closer, her green fingers tracing his chest with a possessive caress.

Mara giggled, her bronze skin flushed, her discarded robe a puddle on the floor as she rolled onto her side, her thick thighs pressing together, her dark eyes smoldering with renewed hunger. "Oh, darling, let's fill me up again—make me overflow," she cooed, her hand sliding down his stomach, her nails grazing his skin with a teasing promise.

Jake's heart stuttered, his body too spent to respond, his muscles aching from their marathon, his breath catching as their words stirred a flicker of dread beneath his exhaustion. Before they could pounce, Veyra stepped forward, her leather corset creaking, her golden eyes narrowing as she raised a hand, her voice firm and commanding.

"Enough, you two—he's done. You're filled up plenty—more than enough to get you knocked up." Her tone brooked no argument, her muscular frame towering over them, her crimson hair spilling over her shoulders like a warrior's mantle.

Lyra nodded from her corner, her sheer robe still hiked around her thighs, her fingers glistening from her earlier indulgence, her glowing eyes softening as she added, "She's right—look at him, he's drained dry. You've got what you need—let him rest." Her voice was gentle but firm, her magic humming faintly in the air, a quiet ripple of authority as she straightened, brushing her dark hair back with a graceful flick.

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Kalia pouted, her tail lashing once, but her smile didn't fade as she leaned down, her full lips brushing Jake's in a slow, lingering kiss, her tongue teasing his briefly, her earthy taste flooding his mouth. "Fine, precious—you've been so good for Mama," she murmured, pulling back with a satisfied smirk, her green hand cupping his cheek.

Mara followed, her bronze lips pressing against his with a wet, sultry heat, her tongue flicking his lower lip as she whispered, "Sleep well, darling—you've made me so happy." She rose, her plump ass swaying as she joined Kalia, their satisfied giggles echoing as they sauntered out, the door thudding shut behind them, leaving Jake alone with Veyra and Lyra in the suddenly quiet room.

Jake barely had a moment to breathe before Lyra moved, her glowing eyes flaring with a sudden, wild hunger, her lithe form pouncing toward him like a predator claiming its prey. "My turn now, pet," she purred, her voice a sultry growl, her sheer robe slipping further as she straddled his hips, her hands pinning his wrists to the carpet, her magic crackling in the air, a warm tingle brushing his skin as she leaned down, her lips hovering over his.

His exhausted body tensed, too weak to resist, his breath hitching as her scent—floral and electric—washed over him.

Before she could descend, Veyra surged forward, her leather boots thudding against the carpet, her hand seizing Lyra's arm with a warrior's grip, yanking her off Jake with a sudden, forceful pull. "Not a chance, Lyra—back off," Veyra snapped, her voice a low growl, her golden eyes blazing as she shoved Lyra against the wall, the velvet crumpling under the impact.

She drew her sword in a fluid motion, the steel glinting as she pressed its edge to Lyra's throat, not breaking skin but close enough to make her freeze. "You know the rules—no stealing what's not yours to take," Veyra hissed, her corset creaking as she leaned in, her crimson hair falling forward, her breath hot with anger.

Lyra's eyes narrowed, her magic flaring brighter, violet sparks dancing along her fingers as she pushed back, her voice sharp with defiance. "Rules? I've watched him writhe—I deserve a taste too!"

Her hands flicked upward, a surge of arcane energy slamming into Veyra, shoving her back a step, the air crackling with tension as the two squared off, their power clashing in a sudden, furious brawl. Veyra swung her sword, the blade whistling through the air, while Lyra countered with a burst of magic, a shimmering shield deflecting the strike, the room shaking faintly with their struggle.

Jake watched from the carpet, his body too exhausted to move, his limbs leaden, his breath shallow as he stared wide-eyed at the chaos unfolding. There was no escape—the door was shut, the walls unyielding—and fear mingled with his fatigue, rooting him in place.

Veyra lunged, her sword arcing toward Lyra's side, but Lyra twisted, her magic coiling around Veyra's arm, forcing her to stagger. Lyra raised her hand, a glowing orb forming, its light pulsing with intent—a critical blow aimed at Veyra's chest—and Jake's heart lurched, a sudden instinct overriding his exhaustion.

He rolled to his knees, his muscles screaming, and stumbled forward, throwing himself between them, his arms outstretched as he croaked, "Stop—don't!" The orb grazed his shoulder, a stinging heat searing his skin, but it dissipated before striking Veyra, who seized the moment, her fist slamming into Lyra's temple with a dull thud. Lyra crumpled, her magic fizzling out, her body slumping to the carpet, unconscious, her robe pooling around her like spilled ink.

Veyra spun on Jake, her golden eyes blazing with fury, her sword still in hand as she snapped, "Never—never—come between my fights, pet! I can handle her without your damn help—do you understand?" Her voice was a growl, her leather creaking as she loomed over him, her breath heaving, her crimson hair wild.

Jake nodded quickly, his throat dry, his body trembling as he rasped, "Y-yes, I understand—sorry." She glared at him a moment longer, then stomped her boot onto Lyra's chest, a possessive thud echoing as she muttered, "Stay down, witch."

She sheathed her sword, her movements sharp, then grabbed Jake's arm, hauling him to his feet with a strength that made his head spin, his legs wobbling as she dragged him from the room.

"Come on, pet—you're a mess," she said, her tone softening slightly, though her grip remained firm, her leather gloves warm against his skin. They moved through a narrow hall, the stone cool under his feet, until she pushed open a heavy wooden door, revealing a private bath—a vast, luxurious expanse of marble and steam, the air thick with the scent of lavender and rosewater.

The bath was a sunken pool, its surface rippling faintly, surrounded by polished white stone veined with gold, ornate pillars rising to a domed ceiling where a skylight let in a sliver of moonlight. Steam curled upward, the water shimmering with a faint iridescence, and plush towels hung on gilded racks, their softness a stark contrast to the hard lines of Veyra's armor.

She guided him to the edge, her boots clicking against the marble, then released him, stepping behind as he stood there, naked and shivering, his body caked with sweat and the remnants of Kalia and Mara's claim.

"Get in," Veyra ordered, her voice low but steady, her hands folding behind her back as she stood tall, her corset creaking faintly, her golden eyes fixed on him. "I'll clean you up, pet—you've earned it after that mess."