FUSHH!

In a simple, decorated room made from marble, a golden portal suddenly opened up.

From within walked a middle-aged woman with light-green hair and eyes of the same color. Her aura was the kind of softness, like she couldn’t hurt a fly. Her red dress, white overcoat, and red scarf gave her the air of a teacher. A beautiful teacher. Her curves are not very prominent, but still, her warm vibe and a great pair of titties were nothing to laugh about.

“Hmm?” the woman glanced around, scanning the simple room for any traces of danger. “This is… unexpected. I thought it was a scam or something.”

Yesterday, a noble woman requested a meeting with her, saying that she had the solution to her problem. Now, for this middle-aged woman who was the wife of a duke, she wouldn’t have given a chance to the noble girl, buuutt… the way the message was delivered and the choice of words really piqued her interest.

So she agreed to meet the noble woman, and when she did, when she saw her in the flesh, the duchess really started to question her own sexual tastes. The noble woman was nothing but gorgeous and elegant.

Short silver hair that framed her face like it was carved by the gods themselves, red eyes that held a calm yet dangerous glint, and lips painted a faint crimson that seemed to promise both salvation and damnation in the same breath.

The duchess wasn’t the type to get flustered easily—years of court politics had made her immune to most charms—but this woman… She was in trouble. The kind of trouble you knew you should run from, but your legs refused to move.

They spoke for only half an hour yesterday. Just long enough for the duchess to feel like she was dancing on a knife’s edge, every word from the silver-haired woman pulling her in deeper. Then came the proposition. A simple phrase, whispered like a secret between lovers.

“Use the key and your problem shall disappear.”

And now here she was, standing in this marble room after stepping through a golden portal that opened the moment she used that… lewd-looking gold key.

The silver-haired woman gave her two—one for her and the other for her husband—and they used them both; however, her husband was nowhere to be seen.

“Maybe he’s in another room?” She brushed a lock of green hair behind her ear and took a step forward, her heels clicking against the tile, before slowly noticing a stone table hanging on the wall right next to the door.

“Rules?” The duchess raised an eyebrow and leaned to read.

“What the hell?” Instantly, she was shocked by the very first rule.

…

[Rule One: No Clothes.]

[You were born nude, and so you shall return to the divine embrace of the Great Mother, bare, honest, ready. It is not a place to hide or be ashamed, but rather a place to celebrate and discover your true self.]

[PS: All private parts must be visible. Clothes that are labeled as “Sexy clothes” and such are accepted]

…

The duchess’s breath caught in her throat as she read the first rule again, her green eyes widening in disbelief.

“No clothes?” she whispered to herself, the sound of her voice barely more than a breath in the silent room. “What kind of game is this?”

“But…” Her fingers instinctively tightened around the edge of her red scarf, the soft fabric grounding her as her mind raced. The silver-haired woman had already given her a quick version of what to expect from this place, and she said that this place is one hundred percent safe and will fix her problem. However, despite her hesitation, the duchess finally began stripping down to the bare essentials, as the rules demanded.

The bra, the pants, the shirts were placed down, until finally the duchess stood in the empty room, a lonely white flower in a field of obsidian. Naked and trembling, hands holding her chest in a protective, frightened gesture. Her palms felt cold, a thin film of nervous perspiration glazing her fingers.

“This place…. how the heck is it so warm?” The woman was shaking and blushing like a virgin in front of her husband. Even when she and her husband had their times, the duchess was always wearing her clothes, and yes, they fuck like rabbits… but still her clothes are always on.

The duchess shook her head, focusing back on the rules.

…

[Rule Two: No killing, fighting, or being violent.]

…

“No surprise here.”

…

[Rule Three: All sexual acts must be done with consent and a full understanding of what is about to happen]

[PS: With consent and while inside the private room, everything is allowed. No matter what. BDSM, Petplay, gang bangs, rape play, impregnation, and so much more. The rooms contain a healing feature; no lasting harm can be done.]

…

“…” The duchess gulped, a small blush working its way onto her pale cheeks.

“Consent for… everything…?” she muttered, a small, wondering note creeping into her voice. She couldn’t imagine her husband going that far—not anymore, at least. There had been times, early in their marriage, when she was still tight and hot; however, as a respectful noble woman, she couldn’t offer her ass and pussy to him whenever he asked, or do nasty things that her friends found interesting, so their sex had become… casual, almost rote.

Especially after she couldn’t give her husband what he really wanted… a male heir, thus the Problem.

Fortunately, her husband loves her dearly and wouldn’t dump her for not having a boy. Their relationship is pure. They married for love, not some stupid shit like politics and money.

“Anything,” she read the rule one more time, imagining her husband’s hands playing in places he never touched.

“P-Preposterous,” she turned her gaze away and covered her breasts. She still loved her husband and would do anything for him. He’s a busy man, one of the biggest—in her eyes—merchants in the kingdom. But what good is money if they have no heir to give it to?

“Anything,” she murmured, and in the quietness of her own breathing, she heard the first drop of something darker, a gentle swirl of desire.

“I wouldn’t mind trying some of those things the rules said…” She took a step back, but her bare heel tapped against the tile. “…should I?”

The thought lingered in her mind like a drop of wine spreading through water, staining everything it touched.

The duchess bit her lip, glancing down at her naked body before turning her attention toward the lone door in the room. It was tall, arched, and made from some polished dark wood that seemed out of place against the white marble. The handle, a smooth curve of gold, gleamed invitingly.

Her pulse thudded in her ears.

She wasn’t the type to indulge in strange fantasies—not openly, not without the protective veil of nobility to keep everything respectable. But here, alone and already stripped of that armor, there was no one to judge her. No maids. No gossipy court ladies. No husband watching with his careful, gentle eyes.

Just… her.

And maybe… whatever waited beyond that door.

The duchess exhaled and read the final words on the stone table, something about a system, secret identity, and points. At the moment, a blue holographic interface materialized before her eyes, startling her.

“Wow… is this some type of light magic?” she wondered, seeing her hand passing through the interface.

After playing for a while, she chose to hide her identity for obvious reasons, but she chose a nickname that only her husband knew about. Then she reached for the handle.

Warmth and scent washed over her instantly — thicker here, heavier, as if the very air had been steeped in nectar. The scent was intoxicating… honey, blossoms, and that same deep musk she had caught earlier, now stronger, clinging to her tongue and lungs.

Her bare feet sank into plush crimson carpeting. The walls ahead glimmered faintly, carved with reliefs of women, men, and creatures in shameless poses, their stone bodies entwined in acts so explicit her cheeks burned red. And yet, she couldn’t look away.

At the end of the short hallway, the space opened into a vast chamber.

She stepped inside… and froze.

The ceiling soared impossibly high, painted with golden murals of a great, radiant figure — a woman of impossible beauty, crowned in red flowers and holding a swollen belly with both hands. Around her, hundreds of worshippers knelt, their bodies tangled in a writhing sea of lust and devotion. Beneath the murals, real light spilled from crystal lanterns, casting the whole place in a warm, sunlit glow.

And in the center of it all…

A raised platform of polished white stone, shaped like a great blossom in bloom. At its center, a lone figure was sitting on her knees, her naked body slouched slightly, as if drunk. Her lips were parted, breath shallow and faint, but even from here, her expression was clear.

‘Holy…Light!’

A wave of wetness trickled across the duchess’s thighs. She couldn’t understand why, but the look on that girl’s face, so mindless with pleasure, was burning itself into the back of her eyelids.

This was no simple “safe place” like the silver-haired woman had described. This was something far more sacred — and carnal.

“Hello, dear.”

“!!!” Suddenly, a voice rang out right next to the duchess’s left ear.

When she turned to face the owner of the voice, she gasped. The black-haired woman standing next to her was far more beautiful than she could imagine, even that silver-haired pale woman who called herself V wasn’t anything compared to this one. Still beautiful, but V was more of a dangerous beauty, like a killer, and this one is more the sweet, caring mommy type.

“Welcome to the holy breeding temple of the goddess Morgana,” the beauty spoke with a warm, unfair smile, making the duchess swallow nervously, blushing harder.

“I’m Luna, the high priestess.”

“T-Thank you, Miss Luna.”

“So polite and respectful,” Luna giggled softly, her massive bust wiggling, making the duchess want to suckle those juicy melons. And she was straight, dammit!

“What do you truly desire, dear?”

The question struck her. Simple. Direct. Stripped to the bone. What was the most honest answer? Her gaze lowered from the high priestess and fixated on her belly—her empty belly—so utterly unable to offer the one thing that she and her husband truly wanted.

“A child,” the answer came naturally, from the heart, past her lips. “I want a baby… a son to carry on the name of my beloved”

“So be it”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep