--- [♔♔♔] ---
The cold steel of the guillotine pressed against Seraphina's neck like a possessive lover's teeth, grazing her skin with lethal promise, the final thrill before oblivion swallowed her whole.
Then, the sultry haze of expensive jasmine incense enveloped her, thick and arousing, seeping into her pores and igniting a slow burn low in her core.
Seraphina's eyes snapped open, her breath coming in shallow pants as she arched against the silken sheets of her canopy bed. The luxurious fabric slithered over her body like eager hands, molding to the full swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, and the inviting curve of her ass. Her fingers trailed down her throat, brushing the sensitive skin above her collarbone, then lower to cup the weight of one breast through the sheer nightgown. No blood, no scars—just the rapid throb of her pulse and the hardening peaks of her nipples straining against the gossamer material. A shiver ran through her, heat pooling between her thighs as she squeezed them together.
"I'm back," she gasped, her voice a throaty whisper laced with raw need.
"Three years before the execution. And this time... I'll fuck my fate all by myself."
In her previous life, she'd embodied unbridled vice: taunting the simpering heroine with venomous words that hid her own aching envy, draining the empire's coffers on gems that dangled like temptations between her cleavage, and hounding the Crown Prince with a desperate lust that ended in his indifferent stroke of her death warrant.
But now?
Rebirth coursed through her veins like liquid fire, awakening hungers she'd long suppressed.
[DING!]
A glowing neon-blue interface bloomed before her eyes, pulsing with an insistent rhythm that mirrored the ache building in her pussy. It hovered so close she imagined its ethereal glow warming her flushed cheeks, drawing a soft moan from her parted lips as her chest heaved, the nightgown slipping to bare the rosy tip of one nipple.
[The 'Servants Gacha' System has successfully integrated with the Host's Soul.]
[Current Fate: Destined for Execution (100% Probability)]
[To rewrite your doom, summon SSS-Rank Guardians—fierce protectors who will guard your life... and ravage your body in eternal devotion, their cocks and cunts binding you in ecstasy and power.]
"Gacha?" Seraphina purred, licking her lips slowly, the word sending a illicit thrill straight to her clit.
"Like those one-handed bandits in the slums, where coins buy secrets and sinful delights?"
[You have (1) Newbie SSS-Guaranteed Ticket. Would you like to spend it? Additional Tickets Available: (2) SSS-Rank Summons for Harem Expansion.]
Her body hummed with anticipation, slickness gathering between her folds as she envisioned warriors who wouldn't just shield her—they'd pin her down, fuck her senseless, mark her as theirs in ways that shattered empires.
No more hollow affections; this time, she'd command desire itself.
"Spend it! All of them—bring me my harem of monsters!"
The room trembled as a colossal golden slot machine materialized, its gears grinding with a deep, vibrating hum that made the bedframe quake and her breasts bounce with each pulse. Symbols whirled in a hypnotic blur—crossed blades dripping with implied blood, crowns encrusted with jewels like hardened cum, skulls grinning in lewd invitation—until three [SSS] icons locked in place with a deafening clang.
[Gacha Result: SSS-Rank 'The Tyrant Lord of the North' - Kaelen von Hades]
The temperature plummeted, frost racing across the silk like icy tongues lapping at her exposed skin, pebbling her nipples to aching points. A maelstrom of black mana erupted, heavy with the scent of sweat-soaked battles and primal rut, coiling around her like invisible restraints that teased her inner thighs.
From the vortex stepped Kaelen— a colossus of raw power, his obsidian armor scarred and bloodied, clinging to every ridge of his chiseled abs, the bulge of his massive cock outlined against the plated codpiece like a weapon begging release.
Silver hair cascaded wild over broad shoulders, and his crimson eyes burned with feral hunger, raking over her body as if already stripping her bare and spreading her wide.
Grand Duke Kaelen von Hades, the Blood-Eyed Tyrant who'd butchered legions in her past life, his greatsword—jagged and throbbing with dark energy—gripped in a fist that could crush bones or grip hips in brutal thrusts. He was destruction incarnate, a beast whose conquests left women broken and begging for more.
Kaelen's gaze locked on her, devouring the way her nightgown had hiked up to reveal the damp patch on her panties, his nostrils flaring at her arousal's musky call. He advanced, armor clanking like chains of dominance, his voice a guttural snarl that vibrated straight to her core.
"What sorcery is this velvet prison? Who dares summon me to gaze upon such ripe flesh? Speak, wench, or I'll carve my answers from your skin—starting with that sweet spot between your legs, fucking you until you scream your secrets."
Seraphina's pussy clenched, juices soaking through the silk as fear twisted into molten want.
The system flashed: [Loyalty: 0%]. But his threat dripped with promise, making her squirm.
Before she could retort, the machine roared again, reality tearing open in a blaze of light that seared her senses. Two more figures burst forth, the air thickening with combined auras of divine fury and shadowy seduction.
[Gacha Results: SSS-Rank 'The Cursed Paladin' - Lord Alistair Thorne | SSS-Rank 'The Shadow Archmage' - Mistress Vespera Noir]
Lord Alistair materialized first, a towering wall of muscle in soul-forged obsidian armor etched with glowing runes that pulsed like veins engorged with lust. His battle-scarred frame rippled under the plates—thick thighs that could pin a woman down, arms corded for lifting lovers or enemies alike, and a greatsword, the Blade of Oathbound Fury, humming with power to sunder mountains or plunge deep in rhythmic claim.
Golden hair framed a face hardened by curses, his emerald eyes stormy with restrained violence, but as they fell on Seraphina, they darkened with a knight's oath-bound hunger, the Gauntlet of Crimson Pact on his hand flaring as it bound him to her will.
Beside him slithered Mistress Vespera, ethereal and intoxicating, her pale skin shimmering like moonlight on sweat-slicked curves. Raven hair cascaded over full, heaving breasts barely contained by a corset of living shadows, her violet eyes gleaming with wicked curiosity. She wielded the Scepter of Stygian Whispers, a twisted staff that whispered promises of forgotten pleasures, and around her neck hung Oblivion's Echo, a pendant pulsing with the power to bend realities—or minds—into submission.
Her lithe form moved with serpentine grace, hips swaying to reveal the slit of her gown exposing long, toned legs and the hint of a bare, glistening pussy beneath.
Alistair dropped to one knee, his voice a deep, resonant vow that sent shivers racing to Seraphina's clit.
"My lady, the pact binds me. I am your shield, your sword... and if you command, your unrelenting conqueror, pounding into you with the fury of a thousand oaths until you shatter in bliss."
Vespera knelt gracefully, her lips curving in a sultry smile, shadows coiling around her like teasing fingers brushing her own hardened nipples. "Mistress of fates, I sense your fire. Let me weave illusions of ecstasy, erase your pains, or alter memories to make every touch eternal. My whispers will make you cum without a single stroke—or guide my tongue to your folds until you beg for my shadows to fill you."
Seraphina rose on trembling legs, her nightgown falling open to expose her flushed body, breasts rising with each ragged breath, pussy lips swollen and slick with need. The system chimed:
[Harem Capacity: 3/10 | Kaelen Loyalty: 1% (Intrigued by your defiance, cock twitching at the thought of breaking you) | Alistair Affection: 10% (Duty stirs a deeper urge to claim and protect your heat) | Vespera Affection: 15% (Curiosity blooms into desire to taste your essence)].
She had summoned a triad of devastation: Kaelen's tyrannical might, Alistair's oath-sworn brutality, Vespera's seductive shadows.
No longer the doomed villainess—she was their queen, her body the throne they'd worship and ravage.
"Rise, my husbands and my wife!"
Seraphina commanded, her voice husky with command and craving, stepping forward so her bare foot brushed Kaelen's armored boot, sending sparks up her leg.
"Learn each other's strengths... and mine. We'll attend the Midsummer's Ball, where I'll parade you as my weapons. The Crown Prince and his saintess will kneel—or bleed. But first... show me your loyalty. Touch me. Prove you'll fuck away my enemies and fill me with your power."
Kaelen's smirk widened, his hand shooting out to grip her waist, pulling her flush against his hardening bulge, the heat searing through his armor.
"Bold words, wife. I'll start by ripping this gown off and thrusting my cock into your tight cunt, making you mine before these others join."
Alistair's gauntlet glowed as he stood, eyes devouring her exposed skin, his free hand flexing as if imagining parting her thighs.
"As you decree, my queen. My blade guards you now... but my body aches to sheath itself in your wetness, pounding relentlessly until your screams echo my oath."
Vespera rose with a predatory glide, shadows extending to caress Seraphina's inner thigh, cool tendrils teasing her soaked folds without mercy.
"Delicious ambition. Let my magic heighten every sensation—your nipples aching, your pussy clenching around nothing... until we fill you, one by one, our cum sealing your reign."
Seraphina moaned, arching into their touches, the air thick with impending orgy.
Her old life dissolved; this rebirth was power, lust, dominance.
With these SSS-Rank lovers at her command, she'd conquer the empire—one filthy, earth-shaking fuck at a time.