Reincarnated into a Femdom Fantasy World (18+)-Chapter 7: bursting with flavor

Jake sat in the lavish chamber, the crimson silk walls glowing softly under the chandelier's golden light. His stomach growled despite the knot of dread twisting inside him. The trays of food sat tantalizingly close—roasted meats dripping with savory juices, fruits glistening with sweetness, spiced cakes wafting a warm, irresistible aroma that teased his senses.

He didn't want to eat, not with the weight of his situation pressing down on him, but hunger gnawed at his insides. It was a sharp ache that made his gut rumble audibly, betraying him in the quiet room. He hesitated, his hands hovering near the table, the scent pulling at him like a siren's call.

Finally, he gave in, snatching a small piece of meat with trembling fingers. The first bite hit his tongue—succulent, rich, bursting with flavor—and hunger overtook him. It drove him to shove more into his mouth, chewing quickly, almost frantically, as if racing against his own unease.

The taste was divine, a stark contrast to the cheap ramen and takeout of his old life. For a fleeting moment, he lost himself in it, the ache in his stomach easing with every hurried swallow. Halfway through a juicy fruit, its nectar dripping down his chin, a memory jolted him—Tazka's voice, low and wicked, whispering, "First fed, then bred."

His hand froze mid-motion, the fruit slipping from his fingers to land with a soft thud on the tray. His appetite vanished as the implication sank in. Fed to keep him strong, bred to serve their needs—he knew what came next, and the realization turned the delicious meal to ash in his mouth.

He dropped his hands, his breath shallow, and glanced up, catching the eyes of Veyra, Ssyra, and Lyra watching him from across the room. Their smiles were suspicious, too knowing—Veyra's lips curved in a sharp smirk, Ssyra's fangs glinting with a predatory edge, Lyra's glowing eyes half-lidded with quiet amusement.

"What's wrong, pet?" Veyra asked, her leather corset creaking as she shifted. Her tone was teasing but laced with something darker. "Why'd you stop eating?"

Jake wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his voice shaky as he stammered, "My—my stomach's not feeling good. It hurts." The lie tasted bitter, his pulse quickening as he avoided their gazes, hoping they'd buy it, praying for a reprieve from the inevitable.

Lyra stepped forward first, her sheer robe whispering against her thighs, her expression softening with concern as she closed the distance. Her cool fingers brushed his forehead. "You don't feel warm," she murmured, her touch lingering, her glowing eyes searching his face with a mix of worry and skepticism.

Veyra and Ssyra exchanged glances, their smiles fading into something harder, but before they could speak, the door creaked open. A monster woman entered—blue-skinned, horned, and, for the first time, Jake's height, her presence a startling contrast to the towering figures he was growing used to.

Her silk dress clung to her subtle curves, less revealing than the maids' but still accentuating her form. Her face was a mask of calm, devoid of expression. She moved with purpose, stopping in front of him without a word, and Jake tensed as her soft, cold hand pressed against his stomach, followed by a strange, warm heat that radiated from her palm.

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He held his breath, her touch gentle—almost tender—unlike anything he'd felt since arriving. Her closeness stirred an odd mix of comfort and unease. She examined him silently, her fingers probing with care, and then, without warning, she leaned in and licked his cheek, a quick, wet swipe that left him reeling, his skin tingling where her tongue had been.

"He's fine," she declared flatly, her voice monotone, her blank eyes meeting his for a split second before she turned and left. The door clicked shut behind her. Jake stood there, stunned, wiping his face as Veyra's golden eyes narrowed, Ssyra's tail lashed, and Lyra's magic flared faintly.

Their expressions shifted—anger in Veyra's tight jaw, interest in Ssyra's tilted head, disappointment in Lyra's pursed lips. "Faking it, huh?" Ssyra hissed, her scales glinting as she stepped closer, her voice low and mocking. "Pathetic little trick, softling—wasting our time."

Veyra waved a hand, her leather creaking as she signaled the maids, who swept in to clear the trays. Their silk dresses rustled as they moved with quiet efficiency. "Enough of this," she muttered, her tone clipped, and the three women closed in, their presence suffocating as they guided him—half-dragging, half-leading—out of the chamber, leaving the food behind.

The silence was heavy, awkward, as they walked, Jake's bare feet padding against the stone. His mind raced with the lick still burning on his cheek and the weight of their displeasure pressing down on him. They entered another room—empty save for its luxurious trappings: walls draped in deep violet velvet, a thick crimson carpet underfoot, a tall wardrobe of dark wood carved with intricate patterns standing against one side.

The air was warm, spiced, and faintly sweet, but the emptiness felt ominous, a stage set for something he couldn't yet see. Two women waited inside, their figures filling the space with an imposing, mature allure. The first was a monster—green-skinned, with curved horns and a tail that swayed lazily, her voluptuous body wrapped in a tight, low-cut gown that hugged her wide hips and spilled over her ample chest, her milf-like presence radiating experience and confidence.

The second was human, her skin a warm bronze, her curves softer but no less enticing, draped in a silk robe that clung to her thick thighs and dipped low to reveal a generous cleavage. Her dark hair cascaded over one shoulder. Both towered over him, their eyes glinting with intent as they turned to face him, the air thickening with unspoken promise.

Jake stood there, his heart thudding, caught between the three behind him and the two before him. The luxurious room closed in as the reality of "fed and bred" loomed closer, inescapable and undeniable.