Reincarnated into a Femdom Fantasy World (18+)-Chapter 16: Rixa

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Chapter 16: Rixa

Jake sat at the table, the remnants of the honeyed pastry crumbling between his fingers, the sweet taste lingering on his tongue now tinged with the bitter edge of unease after Veyra and Lyra's grim tale of the last summoned man.

The room's dark silk walls seemed to close in slightly, the golden sunlight streaming through the window. He pushed the plate away, his stomach twisting, the luxurious spread—roasted meats, glistening fruits, flaky pastries—suddenly less appealing as the weight of their words settled in.

This was Valthera, a kingdom where women ruled with iron strength and unrelenting desire, where men like him were tools, not kings, and where failure wasn't tolerated.

Veyra clapped her hands again, the sharp sound jolting him from his thoughts, her leather corset creaking as she stood, her fair skin catching the light, her golden eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and command.

"Alright, pet—enough dawdling. Time to get you to Rixa," she said, her voice firm, her crimson hair swaying as she gestured toward the door. Lyra rose beside her, her lace top shifting to reveal more of her obscene cleavage, her cloak fluttering as she stretched, her glowing eyes flickering with a playful spark.

"Training awaits, little one," Lyra purred, her tone teasing but warm, her witchy attire—black lace and high slits—clinging to her lithe frame as she sauntered closer, her magic humming faintly in the air.

"Rixa's going to work you hard—hope you're ready." Her grin widened, her dark hair spilling over one shoulder, and Jake shivered, the memory of Rixa's towering, athletic form flashing in his mind— her sultry "Hello~" echoing in his ears.

He stood, the tunic and pants they'd given him soft but unfamiliar against his skin, a far cry from his old jeans and t-shirts.

"Right... Rixa," he muttered, nodding as he recalled her name, his voice tinged with nervous anticipation. Veyra smirked, stepping forward to lead the way, her boots thudding against the stone floor, while Lyra flanked him.

They guided him through winding halls, the castle's architecture a blend of elegance and might—polished stone walls inlaid with gold veins, tapestries depicting fierce women in battle, their towering forms adorned with armor and magic, the air thick with the scent of incense and old wood.

They descended a spiral staircase, the steps worn smooth by centuries of use, and emerged into a sunlit courtyard, the ground packed earth dusted with sand, surrounded by ivy-clad walls and a wooden training rack laden with gleaming weapons—swords, staffs, and strange, curved blades Jake couldn't name.

Rixa stood in the center, her presence commanding even from a distance, her nearly seven-foot frame radiating energy and strength. Her tan skin glowed under the noon sun, her short horns glinting like polished obsidian, her bushy tail wagging eagerly behind her, poking through a slit in her tight leather shorts.

The shorts hugged her firm, muscular ass, ending high on her thighs, revealing the lean power of her legs, while her cropped top—black and snug—strained against her ample chest, the fabric taut over her toned stomach, her arms flexing as she hefted a wooden staff with casual ease.

Her hair, a wild mane of chestnut curls, bounced as she turned, her cheerful smile widening into something sultry and teasing as she spotted Jake.

"Hello~!" she chirped, her voice a bright, seductive lilt, her tail wagging faster as she strode toward him, her hips swaying with each step, her athletic grace undeniable. "There's my new trainee—ready to get sweaty with me, cutie?" She winked, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief, her horns tilting as she cocked her head, her dog-like energy blending with a predator's confidence.

Jake swallowed hard, his throat dry as he managed a shaky, "H-hi, Rixa," his eyes darting over her form—her playful dominance, the sheer size of her towering over him. She was a monster-girl straight out of a fantasy, and the thought of training under her sent a mix of dread and reluctant excitement through him.

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Veyra clapped him on the shoulder, her gloved hand firm as she said, "Rixa's the best in Valthera for whipping softlings like you into shape, pet. She'll build that stamina the queen wants—don't disappoint her." Her smirk was sharp, her golden eyes glinting as she stepped back, folding her arms under her corset-clad chest.

Lyra giggled, her lace top shifting as she leaned closer, her voice a sultry murmur. "Oh, she's fun, pet—strong as an ox and twice as stubborn. You'll feel her all over by the end of this." Her magic pulsed faintly, a teasing ripple against his skin, and she joined Veyra at the courtyard's edge, leaving Jake alone with Rixa's towering, grinning presence.

Rixa twirled the staff in her hands, the wood whistling through the air, her tail swishing as she circled him, her eyes roaming his frame with a playful, appraising glint. "Hmm, look at you—soft around the edges, but we'll fix that," she said, her tone bright but laced with a sultry edge, her horns tilting as she stopped in front of him. "Queen Tazka says you need stamina, cutie—and I'm here to make sure you can keep up with Valthera's finest. So, let's start easy—grab a staff and show me what you've got!"

She tossed him a wooden staff from the rack, its weight oddly heavy and unfamiliar in his hands, and he fumbled to catch it, nearly dropping it as her laugh rang out—a bright, infectious sound that made his cheeks flush.

"Oh, you're adorable—don't worry, I'll go gentle... at first," she teased, her tail wagging as she took a stance, her leather-clad legs flexing, her cropped top shifting to reveal a sliver of her toned midriff. "Come on, swing at me—let's see how long you last!"

Jake gripped the staff, his hands sweaty, his heart pounding as he faced her, the sun beating down on the courtyard, the distant chirping of those iridescent birds a faint backdrop to the thud of his pulse.

He swung awkwardly, the staff wobbling, and Rixa dodged with a fluid sidestep, her tail swishing as she tapped his arm with her own staff—a light, playful smack that stung just enough to make him yelp.

"Too slow, cutie—try harder!" she chirped, her grin widening, her energy relentless as she danced around him, her athletic form a blur of muscle and mischief.

Veyra and Lyra watched from the sidelines, Veyra's smirk steady, her leather creaking as she shifted, Lyra's glowing eyes glinting with amusement as she murmured something to Veyra, her lace-clad form leaning casually against the wall.