Reincarnated into a Femdom Fantasy World (18+)-Chapter 18: So tense—just relax

Jake trailed behind Rixa as she veered off the familiar path through Valthera's stone corridors, her leather-clad figure striding confidently in a direction he hadn't taken before, her bushy tail swishing with each step.

The courtyard's dust still clung to his skin, his muscles aching from their sparring, and confusion tugged at him as the halls grew narrower, the walls shifting from polished marble to rougher, timber-framed stone.

"Uh—where are we going?" he asked, his voice hesitant, his bare feet scuffing against the cool floor as he paused, eyeing her towering form warily.

Rixa glanced back, her tan skin catching the torchlight, her chestnut curls bouncing as she flashed him a sultry grin, her horns tilting playfully. "To my personal bath, cutie—don't look so spooked!" she chirped, her voice bright but laced with a teasing edge, her tail wagging faster as she stopped, resting a hand on her hip, her leather shorts creaking faintly. "Veyra and Lyra know where my room is—they'll find us. I promise I won't do anything extreme, okay? Just wanna get you clean... and maybe make you smell like me."

Her dark eyes glinted with mischief, her tone dipping into something possessive and warm, and Jake's stomach flipped, his feet rooting to the spot.

"Personal bath?" he echoed, his voice cracking, his hands clenching at his sides as visions of Veyra's luxurious pool flashed in his mind, now twisted with the uncertainty of Rixa's intentions. She laughed—a bright, infectious sound—and grabbed his wrist, her tan fingers warm and firm as she tugged him forward, her tail brushing his leg with a tickling heat that made him stumble after her.

They entered a smaller chamber, the air thick with the scent of cedar and eucalyptus, the bath a stark contrast to Veyra's grand marble pool.

This one was cozier, more rustic—wooden walls polished to a warm sheen, the floor a mosaic of smooth river stones, the tub itself carved from dark oak, its edges worn smooth, filled with steaming water that shimmered faintly under a single hanging lantern.

Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars of oils and dried herbs, their earthy aromas mingling with the steam, while a woven mat sat beside the tub, strewn with fluffy towels. It had a wild, personal charm, like Rixa herself—untamed and inviting, a beast's den turned sanctuary.

Jake lingered near the door, his eyes tracing the wooden grain, the steam curling up in lazy spirals, until Rixa's voice snapped him back. "Take out your clothes, cutie—let's get in!" she called, her tone playful but commanding.

He turned, and his breath caught—Rixa stood bare save for a pair of sexy thong panties, black lace clinging to her hips, the fabric stark against her tan skin, accentuating the firm curve of her ass and the lean power of her thighs.

Her huge, perky breasts bounced free, their pale pink nipples standing out against the tan lines left by her cropped top, faint lines tracing her chest like a map of her sun-soaked days. Her bushy tail swished behind her, brushing the floor, her athletic frame glistening faintly with sweat, her curves a blend of strength and softness—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, her abs flexing subtly as she stretched, her horns glinting in the lantern light, her chestnut curls wild and tousled. She was a vision of raw, primal allure, her confidence radiating heat that made Jake's pulse race.

He whipped his head away, slamming his eyes shut, his cheeks flaming as he stammered, "D-don't look—I'll do it myself!" His voice cracked, his hands fumbling at his tunic, the image of her seared into his mind despite his efforts.

A soft giggle answered him, and then she was there—her warm, tan hands tugging at his shirt, her tail brushing his leg as she started stripping him with a playful urgency.

"Hey—stop! Don't force it—I'll do it!" he yelped, swatting at her hands, his blush deepening as her fingers grazed his chest, her touch electric against his bruised skin.

Rixa laughed again, stepping back with a mock pout, her tail drooping briefly before she sauntered to the tub, her thong-clad ass swaying as she climbed in, the water splashing around her thighs with a soft plop. "Fine, cutie—your loss. Get in when you're ready, but don't keep me waiting!" she teased, sinking into the bath, her horns tilting as she leaned back, her breasts half-submerged, the steam curling around her like a lover's caress.

Jake turned away, his heart pounding as he shed his tunic and pants, the fabric sticking to his sweaty skin, his hands trembling as he stripped naked, his blush spreading down his neck. "Look the other way, okay?" he muttered, his voice small, clutching his arms around himself as he edged toward the tub.

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Rixa hummed, her tail flicking above the water, but as he stepped in—his foot hovering over the wet wood—he caught her dark eyes peeking, her grin widening with shameless delight. "Rixa—!" he squeaked, flailing as he lost balance, tumbling into the bath with a loud splash, water surging over the edge, soaking the mat as he landed in a sprawl.

Rixa pounced, her laughter bright and wild as she splashed toward him, her tan arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him against her slick, warm body. "Gotcha, cutie!" she crowed, smothering him with her huge breasts, pressing them against his face, their softness overwhelming, her pale pink nipples brushing his cheek as she dunked his head playfully under the water, then pulled him up, her fingers raking through his wet hair.

"Look at you—so clumsy and cute!" she teased, her tail swishing beneath the surface, tickling his legs as she splashed him again, her athletic frame pinning him in the small pool, her energy relentless and flirtatious.

Jake sputtered, his face red, his protests drowned in laughter and water as she toyed with him, her hands roaming his shoulders, her tail wrapping around his thigh with a possessive squeeze. Finally, she relented, settling beside him with a grin, her tan skin glistening, her thong dark against her hips as the water lapped at her curves.

"Alright, enough play—let's get you clean, cutie," she purred, her voice dipping into a sultry register, her dark eyes locking onto his as she grabbed a wooden bowl from the tub's edge, scooping water to pour over his shoulders, the warmth cascading down his chest.

She reached for a vial of oil—eucalyptus and mint, sharp and invigorating—pouring it into her palms, her tan hands rubbing together to create a slick lather, the scent blooming in the steam as she slid them over his arms, her touch firm but teasing, her fingers kneading his sore muscles with a rhythm that made him bite back a groan. "So tense—just relax.," she murmured, her tail brushing his back, its bushy softness a contrast to her strong grip as she worked lower, her hands gliding over his chest, circling his nipples with a slow, deliberate pressure that sent heat pooling in his gut.

She dipped lower, her fingers tracing his thighs, her tail curling tighter around his leg as she leaned in, her breath hot against his ear, whispering, "You're all mine to scrub—gonna make you smell like my bath, my touch." Her hands hovered near his length, brushing it with a fleeting, teasing stroke before pulling back, her grin widening at his stifled gasp, the foreplay electric in the steamy air.

The bath stretched on, her touch growing bolder—sliding along his inner thighs, her tail tickling his spine, her breasts pressing against his arm as she washed his back—until the water shimmered with their closeness, the scent of mint and cedar thick around them.

Jake's breath hitched, his body torn between exhaustion and arousal, when the door burst open with a loud bang, the wood rattling against the frame.

Lyra stood there, her chest heaving, her lace top askew from her earlier beating, her dark hair wild, her glowing eyes blazing with urgency as she yelled, "Rixa! Queen Tazka's summoning you—now! Ssyra's been captured at the border by those bastards from Kalthar!" Her voice cracked, her magic crackling faintly around her fists, her battered state—bruises blooming on her arms from her brawl against Rixa a while ago, her cloak torn.

Rixa froze, her tail stiffening, her grin fading as she straightened, water sloshing around her. "Kalthar? Shit—Ssyra?" she muttered, her tone shifting from playful to grim, her horns tilting as she climbed out, her thong clinging to her wet skin, her tan body dripping as she grabbed a towel, her eyes flicking to Jake with a reluctant sigh. "Guess bath time's cut short, cutie—duty calls."

Jake sat there, dazed, the water lapping at his chest, the sudden shift jarring as Lyra's words echoed—Ssyra captured, Kalthar is an enemy kingdom, Valthera's borders are under tension.

His erotic haze shattered, replaced by a new tension, the bath's warmth no match for the chill creeping up his spine.

He recalled the words which Tazka told him about what will happen to him if he gets captured by the enemy kingdom.

Kalthar. No. I can't end up in Kalthar.