Chapter 183: Otaku Twister & The Queen’s Jealousy?
Chapter 183: Otaku Twister & The Queen's Jealousy?
The heavy velvet drapes of the royal airship’s main cabin muffled the steady, rhythmic hum of the magic-infused steam engines outside. Within the private sanctuary, the air was thick, heavy with the scent of burning amber incense and the unmistakable musk of high-stakes romantic tension. The vessel cut through the sea of clouds at high altitude, a floating fortress of luxury, but inside this particular room, the politics of the kingdom of Myst had been reduced to a simple, glossy sheet of canvas.
On the floor lay a large, smooth sheet of treated oil-canvas, meticulously painted with rows of vibrant red, blue, yellow, and green circles. Because the fantasy world of Myst lacked modern plastics, the royal artisans had utilized a heavily lacquered canvas to serve as the game board. The slick oil finish was unforgiving; it made the naked skin of the players squeak, sweat, and slide with every micro-movement. It transformed a simple game into a high-friction, high-contact arena where every shift of weight was amplified by the moisture of their bodies.
"Right foot, green!" called out Elizabeth, the short Dark Healer, the very same woman who brought Taki Tsuki back to life.
The petite maid winced, her short, ink-black hair swaying as she shifted her balance. Her pale, bare knees trembled slightly against the cool, glossy surface. Elizabeth was usually the picture of stoic discipline, a medical prodigy hidden beneath a maid's uniform, but right now, stripped completely bare, she was fighting a losing battle against gravity and her own racing pulse. The slickness of the oil-canvas offered no traction, forcing her to rely entirely on her core strength, which brought her lower abdomen into dangerously close proximity to the smooth wood of the cabin floor.
Loki, currently disguised as King Owen, grinned. Even with a black silk eyepatch covering his left eye, his form was breathtakingly handsome—strikingly young looking, with a sharp, aristocratic jawline, flawlessly smooth skin, and an ironic crown of short, messy, silver-grey hair.
The real King Owen was a firm, honorable ruler who secretly possessed the soul of a total perverted otaku, a man who spent his late nights designing games based on his Earth memories. Loki, however, was a pure rogue and a trickster. He didn't care about Owen's deep-seated anime fetishes or the cultural nuance of the games; he just wanted to leverage this ridiculous disguise to get laid, enjoy the finest fruits of royalty, and cause the real Owen a massive, catastrophic headache when he eventually returned to his throne.
Loki’s single, exposed sapphire-blue eye deviously scanned the landscape of beautiful, bare skin belonging to the three naked women surrounding him.
The visual feast was staggering. He was currently threaded beneath Elizabeth’s slender flank, his right hand braced mere inches from the second maid, Meiling. Every breath he took drew in the scent of their unique magical auras mingled with the natural fragrance of their skin.
Meiling was a stunning Easterner with expressive, dark brown eyes that flashed with a dangerous, calculating intelligence. A cascade of silky black hair pooled around her shoulders and trailed down her back like liquid night. Her voluptuous, heavy D-cup breasts swayed beautifully with every slight shift of her weight, the pale, heavy mounds bouncing subtly, their pink tips occasionally brushing the cool canvas with a faint, wet squeak.
Loki usually wasn't a fan of smaller, more delicate women like Elizabeth, but Meiling was right up his preference. Her curves were lush, her proportions generous, and by golly, he would sleep with this Gravity Mage maid for sure before this voyage reached its destination.
What Loki didn't fully appreciate, however, was the sheer desperation driving the two maids. In the rigid hierarchy of Myst, a common-born maid—even one like his Silvia or these two blessed with rare magical talent like Dark Healing or Gravity Manipulation—was bound to a life of service. But both Elizabeth and Meiling had a hidden motive, a shared, cutthroat ambition that bound them in a silent alliance. They knew that bearing a child for this extraordinarily handsome, youthful King would instantly break their chains. A royal pregnancy meant a lifetime of guaranteed status, vast wealth, and political power that no noble house could strip away.
They were aggressively attempting to seduce him, utilizing the explicit tactical maneuvers detailed in the legendary Perfect Maid Guides—a widely circulated set of manuals passed down through generations of royal servants detailing how to exploit the physical intimacy of private service. Every lean, every accidental brush of a hip, and every breathy sigh was a calculated strike against the King's restraint.
"A king goes where he pleases," Loki rumbled, using Owen’s smooth, youthful baritone to sound firm, commanding, and entirely in control of the board.
He shifted his weight carefully, deliberately avoiding the easier path to aim for a difficult blue circle positioned directly near Elizabeth's inner thigh.
The movement forced his broad shoulders to slide right beneath her torso, his back lightly grazing the soft underside of her belly.
Sensing an opening, Elizabeth didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned forward, intentionally creating a small pocket of space but purposely losing her balance on the slick surface. She tumbled subtly, her soft shoulder brushing heavily against his muscular back as she pretended to struggle to regain her footing. Her small, firm breasts pressed flat against his shoulder blade for a brief, electric second.
"Pardon me, Your Majesty," Elizabeth murmured, her voice a breathy whisper. Her dark eyes lingered on his face for a moment longer than necessary as she stabilized herself, her chest heaving with simulated panic.
Loki’s trickster grin widened. He realized he had been incredibly naive to reject a smaller woman out of hand; height discrimination was simply not right, and looking at the flush on Elizabeth's cheeks, he decided that perhaps she deserved a royal raise and a full, thorough insemination when the time was right. He was thoroughly enjoying the chaotic, highly charged energy of this otaku game. More than anything, he loved the sheer freedom of not having to face the world with his own face later. Being Owen was just too damn shameless, but it was the most fun he’d had in centuries.
Across the mat, Frigg watched the interaction, her expression unreadable but her posture growing increasingly rigid. As a Valkyrie and Loki’s primary future Summons, she was a creature of war, honor, and absolute devotion. She was currently disguised as the Second Queen, Gondul, a role that required her to exude a cold, untouchable majesty. But beneath the flawless facade, a storm was brewing.
The sight of these two common maids persistently putting their hands, breasts, and bodies on Loki was testing her patience to its absolute limit. Valkyries did not share their masters easily. They did not tolerate rivals. Every time Meiling’s heavy breasts swayed or Elizabeth’s thighs brushed against Loki’s legs, a spike of raw, unadulterated possessiveness pierced Frigg's heart.
"A king must be careful where he places his trust, as well as his feet," Frigg remarked, her voice carrying a razor-sharp edge that instantly cut through the humid, sweat-scented air of the cabin. Her grey eyes were cold, locking onto Loki with an unspoken warning.
The sly Meiling, not to be outdone by a cold reprimand from the "Queen," decided it was time to make her definitive move. She knew that in a game of seduction, hesitation was death.
"A wise ruler recognizes devotion in many forms, Your Majesty," Meiling countered smoothly, her voice dripping with honeyed defiance.
With a slow, deliberate twist of her torso that caused her heavy D-cups to jiggle provocatively, Meiling reached out and spun the wooden dial of the game. The arrow whirled before clicking to a halt. "Left hand... yellow."
The layout of the board was disastrous for the current configuration. The only open yellow circle required Loki to stretch his arm directly past Meiling’s front, cutting right through the space occupied by her torso. Loki didn't hesitate. As he moved his arm forward, Meiling deliberately adjusted her posture, lowering her chest and leaning in.
The intentional adjustment forced a close-proximity encounter. Loki’s bare chest rubbed flush against Meiling's soft skin, resulting in a sudden nipple and lip graze. Her stiffening apex dragged right across his collarbone while her full, glossy lips brushed against his jawline. It allowed Loki to literally taste the sweet, floral gloss she wore. The tension in the room instantly became palpable, heavy enough to suffocate. Meiling locked her dark brown eyes directly onto his, offering a silent challenge that was both intensely bold and wildly inviting.
Frigg watched the exchange, her grey eyes narrowing to dangerous slits at the unmistakable sight of Loki's erection growing, lifting proudly against his abdomen in response to the friction. The playful competition had reached a critical turning point. Frigg, the stoic warrior who usually despised mortal frivolity, had to admit to herself that she was violently jealous of these two nobodies. She couldn't stand the thought of them touching him for another second.
She stood up, abandoning the game entirely. Her bare, statuesque presence suddenly commanded the entire space, her aura flaring with a suffocating pressure.
"The game has served its purpose," Frigg announced, her voice resonating with the absolute, terrifying authority that the Second Queen Gondul was infamous for throughout the kingdom.
With a deliberate, swift, and entirely ruthless motion, Frigg stepped directly over Elizabeth on the canvas. Her foot planted heavily between the circles, intentionally causing a massive shift in the balance of the rest of the group playing on the slippery oil-canvas.
The sudden movement resulted in an immediate, chaotic tangle of limbs. The slick oil finish did the rest; everyone lost their grip simultaneously, and the game collapsed in a heap of bare flesh. As they slid, Meiling cleverly used the momentum to press her body fully against Loki one last time, her lips directly kissing his lips as she reluctantly moved off him, leaving a lingering taste of her desire.
In the absolute confusion of sliding bodies, Frigg ended up sliding directly into the center, landing face-to-face with Loki. Her grey eyes were intense, burning, and completely unwavering.
Elizabeth and Meiling scrambled backward onto the wooden floorboards, their faces pale as they realized the atmosphere had shifted instantly from a lighthearted, sexy game to something much more serious. Queen Gondul's legendary jealousy was well known in the kingdom; she was a woman who had executed ministers for looking at the King incorrectly. Even if it was really Frigg in disguise, the sheer, territorial possessiveness seemed to just be an inherent Valkyrie trait that no illusion could mask.
"Leave us," Frigg ordered, her voice low, firm, and vibrating with an icy power that left no room for debate. "The King and I have royal matters to discuss. Immediately."
The two maids exchanged quick, frustrated glances. They had been so close to securing the King's favor, but they recognized the absolute finality in her tone. Realizing that pushing further today could mean the dungeon or worse, they gathered their discarded silk robes and hurried out of the cabin, closing the heavy doors behind them and leaving the room in a thick, heavy silence.
Loki looked up at Frigg's slightly confused, hyper-focused eyes, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he lay naked on the colorful mat. "It seems the Queen has decided to end the festivities early."
"There are more important things to attend to than games, Loki," Frigg replied quietly, her voice dropping the royal cadence now that they were alone.
She reached out, placing a soft but unyielding hand on his shoulder to ground him to the mat, her grey eyes softening into a gaze of pure, raw vulnerability while remaining completely focused on him. The playfulness of the trickster met the absolute, unyielding resolve of the Valkyrie, and for a moment, the steady hum of the airship and the entire world outside the cabin ceased to exist.
"My Queen and my Summons, have you fallen in love with your King?" Loki asked softly, his tone shifting from playful to genuinely captivated.
His hands roamed down her body, sliding past the majestic line of her tucked-away wings, tracing the smooth, muscular contours of her back to caress gently across her firm, perfectly shaped butt-cheeks in a highly suggestive, deeply loving invitation.
Up until this moment, their relationship had been a slow, agonizing burn. Loki had gone out on a couple of private dates with Frigg, trying to let them get to know one another better outside of battle, but their physical intimacy hadn't really gone past innocent hand-holding and a gentle, lingering kiss goodnight at her quarters. But being cooped up on this airship with the crew, the provocative maids, and the constant threat of invisible spies lurking around them had pushed them both to the edge. They could not break their full-time guises as Owen and Gondul, meaning any affection had to be claimed in the dark, stolen moments of royal duty.
Frigg let out a soft, trembling sigh as her bare, heavy E-cup breasts pressed onto his chest firmly, the heat of her skin transferring directly into his muscles.
"I... I am your Queen, and I must complete my conjugal duties and responsibilities as your wife and your Summons," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly under the weight of her hidden desires. "Plus... this will bring our souls closer, right? I cannot bear to watch them touch you."
Loki could feel her wet, completely bare slit sliding down the hot side of his throbbing length as she shifted, the slick, sticky moisture making him realize that poor Frigg was incredibly horny but completely inexperienced in the actual matters of lovemaking. She was a warrior of the skies, pure and untouched, burning with a passion she didn't know how to direct.
"My Second Queen, let's roleplay tonight, and pretend it is our very first time," Loki whispered, his voice deep and intoxicating. "I will make you my wife all over again."
He reached past her arguably perfect, flared hips, his fingers guiding her body, reaching down to the exact point where their flesh would connect.
Frigg folded her wings completely away into her back to remove any barrier between them. She gasped softly as she felt Loki aim the wet, thick tip of his erection directly against her sensitive, aching folds.
She looked down at him, her eyes shining. "Lo-, My King, I am so sorry that I was jealous of the maids... But I want to be with you, body and soul... Let me do this, my King."
Mwah~!
Frigg leaned her face down to his, losing herself completely as she gently took his lips in a tender, yielding kiss. While she kissed him, she slowly, deliberately lowered her hips onto his rigid length. Her tight, unyielding channel stretched violently around his girth, her body fighting to accommodate him as she sank lower, slowly taking all of him inside of her, burying him deep to her very core and womb.
By the time Frigg got his full, massive length completely inside of herself, the initial gentleness shattered. The sheer intensity of the sensation caused their kiss to deepen into a rushed, desperate tangle of hot tongues.
Using his supernatural, monstrous strength, Loki gripped her hips and flipped her effortlessly onto her back, pinning her to the oil-canvas. As if fate itself were playing a comical, perverted joke on them, Loki looked down and realized the move spinner, which had been knocked during their shift, had landed precisely on right-hand, blue.
When he looked down at the violently blushing Valkyrie and saw that his right hand had landed exactly on the blue circle directly beside her golden hair, they both let out a breathy, breathless smile.
Without another word, their hips joined and separated rhythmically. The slick oil-canvas squeaked loudly beneath Frigg's moving hips as their raw lust and deep-seated love started to mingle, creating a furious, wet friction that echoed through the quiet cabin. Loki drove himself into her with a fierce, possessive rhythm, each plunge taking him deep against her cervix.
Loki leaned down, capturing one of Frigg's large, stiff nipples into his mouth, sucking on it hungrily. The intense stimulation drew a wild, uncharacteristic screech of pleasure from the Valkyrie. Her hand reached up, fingers clawing desperately into the back of his messy grey hair, pulling him closer as he continued pumping deep inside of her womb.
"M-Master~ I am flying... I... I love you...!" she cried out, her back arching off the canvas as her internal muscles clamped down around him in a vice-like spasm of a massive, shattering orgasm.
Not wanting to let her down, Loki growled deep in his throat, pushing in to his absolute limit. He let out the thick, hot essence he had built up for a whole day, a massive, unbridled release that filled her womb completely. He captured her panting lips once more, letting his pure primal heat fill her Death-element body with the volatile combination of his Pure Yang and Nether-Ice Body energies.
While their deep French kiss remained tangled, a sudden, bizarre phenomenon began to occur. Frigg's Valkyrie body began to heat up rapidly, her skin glowing with a faint, ethereal silver light as she slightly trembled in his tight embrace.
"Mmm?!"
She mumbled heavily into the kiss, her eyes suddenly opening wide in absolute shock.
Loki was only at the 8th Circle of power himself, so his senses weren't sharp enough to immediately notice that Frigg's fundamental Valkyrie biology was rapidly mutating and evolving under the weight of his sexual desires and the pure, concentrated energy of his release. He hadn't stopped moving even after filling her the first time; his erection remained rock-hard inside her, and her long, toned legs instinctively coiled tightly around his waist to pull him back in for a second round.
Unknown to Loki, the intense emotional breakthrough of her first love, combined with the massive influx of his Pure Yang and Nether-Ice energies directly into her core, had triggered a racial evolution. Frigg advanced rapidly from the absolute racial tip of the 8th Circle, her bottlenecks shattering one by one until she finally broke through to the legendary 9th Circle, achieving a state of power reserved for mythic demigods—all accomplished purely from their passionate coupling, lovemaking, and his direct insemination of her body.
When Loki finally felt her supernatural hold around his body tighten with enough raw physical force to make his bones pop, he slowed his pace. He reached up, gently moving a stray, sweaty strand of gold hair away from her face, only to notice that she was crying silently, a beautiful, radiant smile gracing her normally stoic, warrior-like face.
Mwah~!
Loki leaned down and tenderly kissed her tears away, fully understanding the overwhelming look of first love radiating from a woman’s soul. He leaned close to her ear, his voice soft, sincere, and entirely stripped of his rogue persona.
"Marry me when we get back, my Queen?"
Frigg just held his neck tight, her heart pounding against his ribs. She desperately wanted to scream out loud about her miraculous, god-like breakthrough to the 9th Circle, but she completely refused to ruin the absolute perfection of his marriage proposal. She buried her face in his neck, nodding rapidly as she whispered back her eternal vow.
"Master... I belong to you now. Entirely."
At Frigg's amazingly sexy, entirely submissive words, Loki lost all remaining control. His second, even larger release came violently inside of her, filling her womb to the absolute brim a second time, hoping with every fiber of his being that their souls and their bond were now locked together for a tight, unchanging eternity.