Reborn in Milfloria: The Only Man in a World of Seductive Queens-Chapter 32: squirtworm

The halls of the Fortress of Endless Heat echoed with a mixture of war cries, sultry moans, and the inexplicable honk of a squeaky toy. Sparkles and chaos filled the air. A dominatrix in chainmail lingerie flew past Henry's head, propelled by what appeared to be a rocket-powered chastity belt.

"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!" screamed a Sister of Endless Heat, swinging dual dildonic sabers like a sensual Jedi.

Henry, still clinging to Seraphina's hand, ducked as a boomerang-shaped bra zipped past. "This is it. This is how I die. In a sex dungeon war with glitter in my armpits."

"Focus!" Seraphina yelled, pulling him behind a velvet-draped column. "We need to find Moistessa!"

As if summoned by the power of sweat and drama, a nearby wall exploded with a loud squelch. Moistessa strode through the steamy rubble like a shampoo commercial goddess, dripping with divine lubrication and rage.

"I TOLD YOU PEOPLE," she roared, her squirt staff glowing, "I DO NOT LIKE BEING IGNORED!"

She raised her weapon, and from its tip blasted a tsunami of glittery holy squirt, sweeping half the hall clean of enemies—and floor wax.

Henry stared, open-mouthed. "She's like if Poseidon ran a sex-positive yoga studio."

"Henry!" Moistessa called out. "Are you intact?!"

He looked down at himself—shirt torn, pants barely hanging on, one sock missing, and somehow a stiletto stuck in his belt. "Intact is... a stretch."

Seraphina and Moistessa ran toward each other, swords and squirts blazing, slicing through Sisters wielding tickle grenades and twerking shurikens.

Domina snarled from atop a floating chaise lounge of power. "You dare bring war to my house of heat?! This is a place of moans, not mayhem!"

Moistessa bared her teeth. "You stole my scented bath bombs last solstice. This has been coming."

"Oh please," said Domina, summoning a whip from thin air and wrapping it around a chandelier. "Those were communal."

"LIES!" Moistessa launched herself at Domina, and the two collided in midair in a battle of whip versus squirt, heels versus holy hydration.

Henry ducked behind a statue of Aphrodita the Slut-Goddess of Sparkles, which was somehow vibrating.

Seraphina appeared beside him, panting. "We need an escape route."

"Do we?" Henry asked. "Because part of me kinda wants to lie here and let the sex furniture finish me off."

Just then, a Sister dove from a balcony, aiming a crotch-mounted harpoon at him.

"NEVER MIND ESCAPE IS GOOD!" Henry screamed, leaping away as the harpoon embedded itself into a wall and exploded into confetti and moans.

They sprinted through hallways that refused to stay still. One hallway shrank and pulsed like a reverse birth canal. Another was carpeted in shag fur that whispered compliments to Henry's butt.

"You've got great glutes," it murmured. "Very spankable."

"STOP FLIRTING, FLOOR!" he yelled.

They finally burst into the Chamber of Choice—a room dominated by a spinning wheel labeled: Fate, Foreplay, or Flee.

Henry squinted. "This looks like a cursed sex-themed game show."

A sultry announcer voice filled the air. "Welcome to the Chamber of Choice, where your fate is just one spin away! Will you get freedom... or a spanking?!"

Before Henry could protest, Seraphina spun the wheel.

Tickticktickticktick...

THWACK! It landed on "Foreplay."

From the ceiling descended a giant feather and a pair of robotic lips.

"NOPE NOPE NOPE!" Henry tackled Seraphina through a side door as the feather began to chase them, making obscene tickling noises.

They rolled into another chamber—this one dimly lit, heart-shaped, and occupied by a single enormous bed with tentacles coming out of the headboard.

"I hate this planet," Henry whispered.

The tentacles wiggled. "Cuddles?"

"Absolutely not."

Suddenly, the bed split open like a blooming flower, revealing... Yvette.

Clad in silver silk and sipping something from a cup shaped like a boob.

"Oh hey," she said. "Glad you could make it. You're just in time for the prophecy."

Henry blinked. "There's a prophecy?"

She pointed to a wall covered in ancient carvings of stick figures in increasingly questionable positions. "The Prophecy of the Moist Man. It says you'll either unite the Sisterhoods... or be turned into a walking sex toy for eternity."

"WHAT?!" Henry shouted. "Those are my only options?!"

Yvette shrugged. "It's more of a suggestion than a prophecy."

Domina burst through the far wall, tangled in Moistessa's whip. Both women were covered in glitter, panting, hair wild.

"I respect your thighs," Domina growled.

"I admire your lube capacity," Moistessa panted.

They locked eyes.

Then they kissed.

Henry covered his eyes. "This is like watching two hurricanes make out."

Yvette stood. "The Sisterhoods are uniting. Henry, this is your chance. If you can resist becoming their toy, you might lead them to the truth behind the Great Disappearance."

He took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. I can do this. I just need to be brave, stay focused, and not get distracted by—"

A woman in nothing but pasties and a crown ran by, yelling, "THE G-SPOT IS A LIE!"

Henry screamed. "THIS WHOLE CASTLE IS A LIE!"

Moistessa grabbed his shoulders. "Pull yourself together, Chosen One. It's time to fulfill your destiny... or at least survive long enough to do Chapter 33."

Domina held out her hand. "Henry. Join us. Lead us. And maybe... sit on the throne of the Velvet Rod."

He blinked. "Do I at least get pants?"

"No."

Henry looked at the war-torn sex castle, the absurd women, the burning butt plug chandelier, and sighed.

"...Screw it. Let's do this."

To be continued...