Tyler walked along the dirt path leading to the farmlands, watching as the villagers wrapped up their work for the season. The golden fields, once lush with crops, were now bare, signaling the arrival of winter. The workers, bundled in thick clothes, gathered their tools and chatted amongst themselves as they made their way back to the village.
Tyler, however, had a different destination. At the center of the farmland stood the largest house in the village—Misra’s residence.
He sighed. He hadn’t expected an invitation from the village chief, yet he couldn’t refuse. Curiosity gnawed at him, particularly about Mathilda. She disguised herself as a man and went by the na "Leon," posing as the husband of the village chief. But sothing about her—her presence, her mannerisms—felt strikingly familiar.
A young servant girl t him at the entrance and silently led him through the wooden corridors. Tyler frowned when they stopped before a bedroom door.
He hesitated. Why a bedroom?
Before he could ask, the servant girl bowed and left without a word.
Tyler knocked on the door.
"Co in..." a mature, seductive voice purred from within.
Sothing about that voice sent a shiver down his spine but in different way. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside.
The room was bathed in warm candlelight. A wooden cot, draped with soft fur blankets, stood in the center. Misra, the village chief, lounged gracefully on the bed, her curves accentuated by a loose, silky dress that barely concealed her ample chest. A playful smirk tugged at her lips as she regarded him.
But Tyler’s eyes quickly shifted to the figure beside her. A beautiful boy with delicate features sat near Misra. No, not a boy—Mathilda, dressed in n’s clothing, her disguise flawless except for the unmistakable gleam in her eyes.
Tyler’s heart skipped a beat.
"Thank you for accepting my invitation, outsider," Misra said smoothly. She leaned forward slightly, her voice dripping with intrigue. "Tell ... do you rember anything before arriving in this village?"
Tyler frowned, caught off guard by the question. He opened his mouth but hesitated. Sothing had been nagging at the back of his mind—fragnts of mories, whispers of a past he couldn’t grasp.
"I... don’t rember," he finally admitted, shaking his head.
Misra studied him carefully, her smirk never wavering. "But you seem to feel a connection with Leon—ah, I an, Mathilda. You already know the truth, don’t you?"
Tyler t Mathilda’s gaze. She held her breath, waiting for his response.
"I do." He nodded.
Misra chuckled, her red-painted lips curving into a knowing smile. "Mathilda has been restless ever since you arrived. She couldn’t stop thinking about you." Her fingers trailed along Mathilda’s shoulder, making the disguised woman stiffen. "It makes a little jealous, you know."
Mathilda’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t speak.
Misra leaned forward, lowering her body just enough to reveal more of her ample cleavage. "So, how about this?" she murmured. "The three of us can have a little... personal discussion. Enjoy yourselves as much as you want tonight..." Her smile darkened. "But after this, you must never see Mathilda again."
Tyler’s body tensed. The way she spoke—it was both an invitation and a threat.
*Slap!*
Misra moaned as Mathilda’s hand struck her Breast, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The breasts kept bouncing which made Tyler stare at it without blinking.
"Stop teasing him," Mathilda said, scowling.
Misra let out a playful laugh, rubbing the spot where she’d been hit. She turned to Mathilda with a mischievous glint in her eyes and winked.
Tyler remained silent, his mind racing.
Mathilda tilted her head. "You look troubled? Actually it’s true, you are on my Mind lately. Just think this as compensation for ssing with your Catherine."
"Compensation?" Tyler asked in confusion.
Mathilda slowly removed the threads of Misra. Her mature body fully got exposed in front of Tyler.
Then Mathilda also removed her dress.
Both Mathilda and Misra kissed each other and they rolled on the bed.
Both of their lips seperated and turned towards Tyler.
"Are you just gonna stand there?" Mathilda asked with a teasing tone.
Tyler was not sure what is happening. But he decided to turn around and lock the door.
Then
An hour later, Misra was completely knocked out on the bed. But the bed was shaking vigorously.
Mathilda and Tyler was still doing it. They both kissed while being connected. They felt so comfortable like this is not the first ti they are doing it.
Misra slowly opened her eyes and muttered, "These two Monsters."
Her whisper was quite but Tyler and Mathilda slowly turned towards her.
"Please don’t..." Misra begged.
But it was futile.
"Maids co inside." Misra desperate voice resonated.
---
The next day, Catherine couldn’t shake off the unease creeping up her spine. Tyler hadn’t returned the night before, and sothing about it felt wrong.
Her worry led her straight to the Village Chief’s house.
As she approached, she noticed sothing unusual—there were no servants outside. Normally, the chief’s residence was always bustling with activity, filled with the chatter of the female servants who worked there. But today, silence lood over the house like a heavy fog.
Her steps quickened as she entered.
Inside, the air was thick with an odd scent—one she recognized imdiately. A familiar, intoxicating fragrance that made her stomach twist.
Her heart pounded.
That sll...
Her fists clenched, her breath sharp as she followed the faint noises coming from deeper inside the house. The closer she got, the stronger the scent beca. It was leading her straight to the bedroom.
She didn’t hesitate.
Catherine pushed the door open.
Her eyes widened in shock.
The room looked like a battlefield.
Bodies of won—village servants, dressed in their baby suit—lay sprawled across the floor, unconscious. So were draped over furniture, others collapsed against the walls, their breathing shallow but steady. It was as if they had all been taken down in so sort of bizarre fight.
Instead of blood, there is white liquid is leaking out from almost every holes from their body.
And at the very center of it all...
Tyler.
Fast asleep.
He lay peacefully in the middle of the bed, completely oblivious to the chaos around him. His chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, a slight frown on his face as if he were having a particularly deep dream.
He is hugging Mathilda and sleeping peacefully.
Catherine’s fingers twitched at her sides.
A storm of emotions surged through her—relief that he was unhard, confusion at what exactly had happened here, and then... pure, simring rage.
"Tyler." Her voice was sharp, laced with disbelief.
He didn’t stir.
Her eyebrow twitched.
She marched to the bed, grabbed a pillow, and slamd it down on his face.
"WAKE UP!"
Tyler jolted upright, eyes wide, gasping for breath. His gaze darted around, montarily disoriented. "What—? What’s happening?"
Catherine crossed her arms, glaring daggers at him. "That’s what I want to know!"
Tyler blinked, his mind still catching up. He rubbed his eyes, took in the unconscious won scattered across the room, and groaned. "Oh... right."
Catherine’s foot tapped dangerously against the floor. "Start talking."
Tyler sighed, raking a hand through his ssy hair. "I... I think I was drugged?"
Catherine pinched the bridge of her nose. "You think?"
Tyler looked around again, then let out another groan, flopping back onto the bed.
"what Drug? Drug for preventing pregnancy? I will give them later..." Mathilda also slowly opened her eyes and muttered.
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