Reborn in Milfloria: The Only Man in a World of Seductive Queens-Chapter 31: Deep In

The entrance to the Fortress of Endless Heat loomed before them like the world's horniest volcano—complete with pink steam billowing from suggestive crevices and an ambient soundtrack of breathy sighs, moans, and a suspicious amount of saxophone.

Henry stood at the foot of the drawbridge, arms crossed, glitter still in his hair. "I'm not going in there until someone explains why the walls are throbbing."

Seraphina squinted. "I think it's... breathing."

The entire fortress exhaled. A puff of hot, cinnamon-scented air blew Henry's shirt halfway up his chest.

"Okay, no. That's it. I'm done. We've officially crossed into sentient building foreplay. I refuse to get seduced by masonry."

A sultry, echoing voice boomed from the walls: "Don't knock it till you try it, big boy."

Henry squeaked and jumped behind Seraphina. "The building just flirted with me!"

Seraphina snorted. "If you start dating architecture, I'm leaving you in a moat."

The drawbridge dropped with a loud thud, revealing an extravagant lobby coated in rose petals, velvet carpet, and what appeared to be a welcome desk staffed by a talking mannequin in fishnet stockings and a top hat.

"Welcome to the Fortress of Endless Heat," the mannequin cooed. "Please leave your weapons, your inhibitions, and preferably your pants at the entrance."

Seraphina glared. "I'm keeping my sword."

Henry whispered, "I'm keeping my pants."

The mannequin winked. "You won't for long."

As they entered, a pair of floating gloves attempted to unzip Henry's pants. He swatted them away like mosquitoes. "BACK OFF, PERV GLOVES!"

They proceeded down the main hallway, which was somehow shaped like a curvy hourglass. Every ten steps, the torches moaned softly. One of them even whispered, "Harder daddy," when Henry brushed past.

"This place needs therapy," Henry muttered.

Seraphina inspected a portrait of a woman spanking a goblin with a riding crop. "Correction: this place is therapy... for people with serious issues."

They soon arrived at a massive golden door engraved with the words: "The Grand Hall of the Sisterhood of Endless Heat."

Before Henry could even knock, the doors flung open.

Inside stood seven of the most dazzling, dominatrix-coded women Henry had ever seen. Each wore some combination of latex, leather, lace, and a permanent expression of smug, sultry menace. One had a whip, one had a leash, one was drinking something suspicious out of a champagne glass shaped like a thigh-high boot.

The one in front stepped forward, tall, statuesque, with violet eyes and a crown of pearl handcuffs.

"I am Supreme Mistress Domina. You stand before the High Council of the Sisterhood."

Henry raised a hand. "Uh, hi. I'm Henry. I'm—"

"You are the last man in Milforia," she interrupted, her voice smooth and dangerous. "The forbidden fruit. The walking temptation. The bearer of the Rod of Destiny."

Henry turned to Seraphina. "What Rod of Destiny? Are they talking about my—?"

"They're talking about your penis," she deadpanned.

Mistress Domina approached Henry slowly, circling him like a hungry panther in six-inch heels.

"We have long awaited your arrival. You may not realize it, Henry, but your presence here is... arousing."

"Alarming?" he offered.

"I said what I said."

She clapped twice, and four throne-shaped cushions rose from the floor. Henry was gently shoved into one, where mechanical hands began massaging his shoulders and trying to unbutton his shirt.

Seraphina stayed on guard, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. "We came here to ask about the Great Disappearance. The men. Where are they?"

Another Sister—shorter, with pink hair and glasses perched on her nose—spoke up. "The men weren't taken... they left."

Henry blinked. "Wait, what?"

"They couldn't handle the pressure," she said, flipping open a holographic scroll. "The Sisterhood's sensual energy reached critical levels. The men either fled, exploded, or achieved such high levels of pleasure they transcended physical form and now exist as moaning clouds in the upper atmosphere."

Henry's jaw dropped. "You're telling me the men... pleasure-ascended?"

"Some ascended. Some evaporated. One man turned into a puddle."

"Was his name Todd?"

"Yes."

"Poor Todd," Henry whispered.

Mistress Domina stepped forward again. "We knew one day the Balance would return. That a man would rise, firm and throbbing with potential. That he would resist the temptations... and claim his place as King of the Sisterhood."

Henry choked. "EXCUSE ME?! I didn't sign up for a harem monarchy!"

Seraphina unsheathed her sword. "Try to force him, and you'll be soaking in your own latex."

Domina raised a hand. "Relax, darling. We don't force. We seduce. And if he says no... well..." She gestured to a closet marked "Plan B: Henry Clones" with eerie moaning coming from behind it.

"Alright, alright!" Henry stood up. "Let's all just slow down. Breathe. Maybe make some tea and not try to turn me into a sparkly harem emperor."

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the Fortress.

BOOM!

The moaning walls gasped. One of the thrones farted in fear.

A voice echoed from outside. "HENRYYYYYYY!!!"

Seraphina's eyes widened. "That's Moistessa!"

Domina frowned. "The squirt priestess? She dares attack the Fortress of Endless Heat?!"

Another voice boomed: "Climaxa sends her regards, perverts!"

Henry's jaw dropped. "Wait, you guys pissed off the Goddess of Orgasms too?!"

A flaming whip crashed through the stained-glass window, wrapping around one of the Sisterhood's chandeliers and yanking it down in a rain of sparkles and screaming.

Domina cursed. "To arms, Sisters!"

The Sisters of Endless Heat pulled out an array of combat-ready pleasure weapons: spinning nipple blades, enchanted heels of pain, and a mace shaped like a giant butt plug.

Henry turned to Seraphina. "You know, I was really hoping today would end without another sexual civil war."

She grabbed his hand. "Let's go. Time to choose sides."

Henry hesitated. "Can we choose the side with snacks and no vibrating furniture?"

Another explosion rocked the tower.

Seraphina grinned. "Too late."

Together, they ran out of the Grand Hall—toward a battle between pleasure priestesses, dominatrixes, and goddess-blessed warriors, all while Henry's glitter-coated sanity dangled by a single, fraying thread.

To be continued...