If they wanted to spread her legs, she could take it – she was used to it. As pathetic as it felt to admit it, she had got used to putting up with things like this. She could survive by holding her breath and waiting for it to end.

But the act of undressing, of willingly exposing her body, was another matter entirely. Just the thought of it made her hands tremble uncontrollably.

And then there was Ilion’s gaze. It was impossible to ignore. Amidst the sweet, lustful stares that filled the room, his dark eyes stood out, stark and unmistakable, like a sharp blade slicing through the suffocating air.

“Ugh…”

A sobbing moan escaped her lips. With each layer Cyrene removed, the atmosphere in the room grew heavier, hotter. She noticed that some of the men could no longer contain themselves and were already exposing their swollen erections.

When only a few layers of clothing remained, her body began to feel hot. As she absentmindedly removed another piece, the fabric brushed against her now sensitive n*pples and a startled, breathless moan escaped her.

“Mm… ah!”

“Hurry up and get undressed.”

Her whole body shook. It felt as if flames were licking her from the inside out, her skin burning with unwanted heat.

“Haa… ha…”

Her breaths came in shallow gasps as the oppressive weight of the room and her own escalating sensations threatened to consume her.

No matter how hard she tried to steady her breathing, the heat inside her only increased. Her v*gina clenched tightly and, although no one had touched her yet, she could feel the slick w*tness spreading between her legs.

“Ugh…”

She squeezed her thighs together, desperate for stimulation – something to dig deep inside her, or fingers to ease the unbearable pain. Her face flushed red as she managed to peel off another layer, leaving only a thin chemise clinging to her body. Cyrene clung to it tightly.

Though it barely covered her, her entire body would be exposed without it.

“Haa… haa…”

Her hardened n*pples pressed against the sheer fabric, the tips visible and tantalising in the dim light. She could feel the weight of the men’s eyes on her, drawn to every curve and outline. The more she squeezed her thighs together, the wetter and stickier her p*ssy became.

“Touch yourself.”

Areos chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement, as if he were watching an entertaining spectacle. He leaned back lazily, his chin resting on his hand. Cyrene hesitated, her eyes scanning the room nervously.

She had never touched herself before. There had always been someone eager, even impatient, to handle her body for her. To be performing such an act on her own now, in front of everyone, made her freeze.

“Your Highness…”

“Spread your legs and put your fingers inside, Cyrene. Do I need to teach you how to do that?”

The eyes that roamed her body were dripping with anticipation and lust. Cyrene’s breaths came in shallow pants, her head spinning under the influence of the drug. Heat swirled in her p*ssy and the insides of her walls clenched and pulsed, knowing exactly what she craved.

A p*nis. A thick, hard, hot p*nis.

Cyrene flicked her tongue over her lips, a faint shiver of pleasure rising from the pressure between her thighs. She cast a pleading glance at Areos, but he remained motionless, content to watch.

The heavy, labored breaths of the men around her filled the air, mingling with the faint, musky scent of *rousal. She caught glimpses of their hands caressing themselves, and the heat in her p*ssy only grew more unbearable.

“Ah…”

Her voice quivered as she looked at them and hesitantly lowered her hand to her p*ssy. As the men had done so many times before, their fingers slid over her smooth folds, smearing the sticky fluid that had already seeped out.

“Haa… haa…”

The wet sound of her touch echoed through the tense room, accompanied by the murmurs and shifts of eager onlookers. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate even as shame and excitement threatened to overwhelm her.

Cyrene’s slender fingers began to explore her slick, wet, fleshy p*ssy. When she found her cl*t, she mimicked Areos actions, gently rolling the small, swollen nub between her fingers.

“Ah… hmm…!”

A soft moan escaped her lips. Unlike the overwhelming, almost painful pleasure Areos often gave her, the gentler touch she gave herself felt surprisingly good. Her fingers became sticky with the w*tness seeping from her folds.

“Haa… huu…”

Slowly she slid her finger in. The sensation was different. Thin and small, her finger couldn’t quite reach the places Areos had rubbed and pressed so deeply before.

“Ah… ah…”

Her hips began to sway of their own accord, her body heating up to the point where she forgot she was enjoying herself in front of others. The slick sounds of her fingers stirring her w*tness echoed faintly. She withdrew the finger and pushed two in at once.

Warm, tight walls enveloped her fingers, squeezing them as if unhappy with how small they were. The sensation sent a chill through her shoulders, her body shaking from the pressure and heat building inside.

Her breaths grew shallow as she lost herself in the rhythm of her own movements, seeking the release her body so desperately craved.

“Ah… mm…”

The wet, sticky sounds echoed through the room as Cyrene’s movements became more frantic. The men’s ragged breaths filled the air, their restraint fraying as they slowly approached the light in which she stood. Countless pairs of eyes were fixed on her.

Their lustful gazes devoured the sight before them – the glistening folds of her soaked core, the fingers plunging into it, and Cyrene’s flushed face as she gasped in desperate excitement. Her hips trembled, jerking uncontrollably.

“Ah… no…”

Even without touching her, their eyes alone seemed to ravage her over and over again. Her p*ssy throbbed painfully, tightening in frustration as her fingers could not reach deep enough to satisfy her.

“Ugh… ah… ahh…”

The inability to climax left her desperate. The desperation grew as she clawed at her limits, her fingers stirring her w*tness wildly. Each movement sent droplets of her *rousal sloshing around her, forming suggestive patterns on the floor beneath her.

“Ah… Your Highness… Your Highness…”

Her broken cries were filled with longing, her body seeking an end to the unbearable pain as she writhed in the centre of the room, exposed and vulnerable under their oppressive gaze.

She called out to Areos, her voice pleading. Every eye in the room turned to him, as if waiting for his permission. It was as if the moment he gave the slightest nod, hands would descend upon her and devour her body completely.

“Spread your legs wider so we can see better.”

“Ah… ugh…”

Was it her imagination or did his voice sound stiffer than usual? Cyrene obediently parted her thighs further. Her fingers moved in and out, the slick, obscene sound of her movements growing louder as her *rousal spilled out in sticky trails.

Someone, unable to hold back, *jaculated on her.

“Ah!”

Warm, sticky fluid splattered over her hair and face. That seemed to be the start – spurts of c*m hit her from all directions. Her thin chemise was soaked, clinging to her body and leaving little to the imagination. Gasping for air, Cyrene thrust her fingers in with greater urgency, her movements becoming more frantic.

“Mm… ah…!”

Her walls clenched tightly, desperate for something thicker and more satisfying than her own fingers. She teetered on the edge of climax, her head thrown back as waves of pleasure rippled through her.

And then her eyes met his.

The dark, unwavering gaze of Ilion pierced the chaos, silently watching her with an intensity that left her breathless.

Ilion.

He did not approach her, nor did he expose himself like the others. His dark eyes, filled with an indescribable emotion, sent a shiver down her spine despite the heat consuming her body.

“Ah… ahhng…!”

Her vision blurred white as she cl*maxed for the first time without anything inside her. Her entire body shook uncontrollably, waves of pleasure coursing through her. As she pulled her fingers from her dripping core, strings of *rousal stretched and clung, soaking her thighs even more.

“Haa… ah…”

Cyrene panted heavily, sprawled on the carpet. Another splash of warm s*men landed on her cheek and the men began to release their lust over her flushed, sweat-soaked body. She closed her eyes briefly as the sticky liquid hit her face, then opened them again.

Ilion was still there, standing silently in the midst of the depravity, his gaze fixed on her.

Cyrene reached out, her hand trembling. She wanted him to take it, to hold it in some way that felt real and grounding. A faint, desperate smile formed on her lips.

But before Ilion could move, Areos’ hand gripped hers tightly.

His fingers were strong and unyielding as he cupped her s*men-stained cheek with disturbing softness.

“Your Highness…”

Her voice trembled, her body caught between exhaustion and the suffocating presence of the two men.

The sperm that had smeared her lips slipped into her mouth, leaving a salty, metallic taste on her tongue. Areos pressed his hardened p*nis against her lips, a sensation she was all too familiar with. Instinctively, her tongue darted out to meet it.

Ilion still stood motionless in the corner. Cyrene looked at him briefly and their eyes met again. In the shadows of his figure, she thought she saw a faint glimmer of suppressed heat.

“Mm…”

And then, in a single motion, Areos thrust his p*nis deep down her throat.

As if on cue, the other men rushed forward, their hands roaming greedily over her body. It was no different than before. Her mind spiralled into chaos and blunt, intrusive touches pressed against every inch of her skin.

“Ugh… mmph…”