Reincarnated into a Femdom Fantasy World (18+)-Chapter 15: paid the price

Veyra clapped her hands sharply, the sound cutting through the room, and the door swung open, revealing the same maids from before—human and monster alike—their skimpy silk dresses swaying as they glided in with trays of food: roasted meats still steaming, golden pastries dripping with honey, vibrant fruits glistening with dew, the scents wafting over him in a mouthwatering wave.

"Eat up, pet," Veyra said, her tone firm but warm, gesturing to the spread. "Whatever you want—fuel up. We've got to get to Rixa's training soon."

Jake gulped again, the luxury overwhelming, a stark contrast to his old life of instant noodles and cramped apartments. He slid to the table, picking up a pastry, its flaky warmth crumbling in his fingers as he took a bite, the honey sweet on his tongue.

Lyra leaned over, her lace top dipping lower, and plucked a grape from his plate, popping it into her mouth with a playful wink. Veyra swatted her hand as she reached for another, her leather glove smacking lightly against Lyra's skin. "Hands off, witch—that's his, you are already done with your breakfast.," she grumbled, her golden eyes narrowing.

Jake swallowed, waving a hand quickly. "It's fine, Veyra—let her eat. There's plenty," he said, his voice soft, trying to ease the tension. Lyra laughed, a bright, teasing sound, sticking her tongue out at Veyra as she snatched another grape, her cloak fluttering as she leaned closer to Jake.

"See? He's sweet like that," Lyra said, her glowing eyes softening as she chewed, her tone shifting to something warmer. "You know, pet, I was all nerves around you at first—fidgety, unsure. But after a day and a night with you..." Her voice dipped, a sultry edge creeping in as she recalled their erotic encounters, "I feel close to you now. You're better than the last guy we summoned—way better."

Jake paused mid-bite, the pastry hovering near his lips as curiosity piqued. "The last guy?" he asked, his voice tentative, glancing between them. "What was he like?"

Lyra's expression darkened, her glowing eyes dimming as she set the grape down, her lace-clad chest rising with a slow breath. "He deserved to die," she said flatly, her voice cold, a rare hardness cutting through her usual playfulness. "A real bastard."

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Veyra scoffed, leaning back in her chair, her leather creaking as she crossed her arms, her fair skin catching the sunlight. "Cocky little shit—thought he could strut in here and rule over us, become the King of Valthera and, rule over us, the women of Valthera.," she said, her tone dripping with disdain, her golden eyes glinting with scorn. "Kept yapping about how men were superior, how we should bow to him—pathetic."

Lyra nodded, her cloak slipping further, revealing more of her obscene lace as she leaned forward, her voice sharp with disgust. "He had this agenda—men above women, us as his servants, his little harem to command. Thought he'd tame us with his swagger and his big talk. Didn't realize this is our world—where we're taller, stronger, and not about to kneel for some arrogant prick."

Veyra smirked, a dark laugh rumbling from her chest as she added, "Poor bastard couldn't even handle a woman in bed—too full of himself to keep up. Thought he'd dominate us there too, but he broke like a twig under the one who took him that day, not so much for a challenge." Her eyes flicked to Jake, a teasing glint softening the edge.

Jake shuddered, the pastry suddenly heavy in his hand, the honey cloying on his tongue as their words sank in. "What... what happened to him? How'd he die?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, a nervous edge creeping in as he braced for the answer.

Lyra's lips curled into a grim smile, her glowing eyes locking onto his. "Exactly what Veyra said—he couldn't handle a woman in bed," she replied, her tone slow and deliberate, the emphasis chilling as she leaned closer, her lace top brushing the table. "Overreached, underestimated us, got cocky, and paid the price."

Veyra nodded, her smirk widening as she tapped the table with a gloved finger. "Let's just say he didn't last long—thought he could play king, but he couldn't even play the game. You're smarter than that, pet—less mouth, more... endurance." Her laugh was low, a warning wrapped in amusement.

Jake's throat tightened, the food turning to lead in his mouth, the implication hanging heavy in the air. He wanted to ask more—what did they mean, couldn't handle? How did it kill him?—but the dark glint in their eyes, the casual way they spoke of his predecessor's fate, made him think better of it.

Silence was safer. He forced the pastry down, each swallow a struggle, his appetite fading as the weight of their femdom world pressed in, a reminder of his place—and the thin line he walked. He set the plate aside, his hands trembling faintly, he was full.