“Reverse… Bunny Girl?”
Astreia’s arms, which were holding Wendy, stiffened for a moment.
In her deep violet magic eyes, the fire of desire flickered slightly, revealing a hint of confusion.
This term was beyond her scope of understanding.
Back at Sunset Fortress, the blue and white Bunny Girl costume conjured by magic had already opened a new world to the Witch.
Just recalling that fabric clinging to the skin, and the perfectly exposed areas, was enough to make her body heat up.
That outfit alone had already challenged the limits of her imagination.
So what kind of sight would this “Reverse Bunny Girl” present?
However, Wendy didn’t explain immediately.
The Prince continued to bury his face in the northern hemisphere, deeply inhaling the faint fragrance that barely kept his sanity intact.
On his body, the cold touch of the Golden Thread Garment and the prickle of scattered jewels constantly reminded him of just how shameful his current position was.
But it was precisely this extreme shame that sparked a reckless sense of abandon.
“Actually… it’s about taking the places that are usually covered by fabric in a Bunny Girl outfit—like the chest and waist…”
On the way to the bath deep within the palace, carried in Astreia’s arms, Wendy’s voice was halting, filled with irrepressible embarrassment as he explained this even more depraved concept from another world to the Witch Queen.
“Expose them all…”
“And the skin that’s usually exposed to highlight sexiness and slenderness, like the arms and legs…”
“Those should be tightly wrapped in the thickest, most opaque fabric…”
This explanation was less a description and more a form of self-indulgent fantasy.
With every word he spoke, Wendy felt his heartbeat quicken, a twisted excitement rising from the base of his spine, eroding what little reason remained.
Astreia listened with only a partial understanding.
But she could clearly feel the small creature in her arms growing hotter and breathing more rapidly as he spoke.
She didn’t need to fully understand.
She only needed to know that this was yet another design, even more wicked and desire-stirring than the last, capable of greatly satisfying the urge to peep.
That was enough.
Soon, a luxurious, enormous bath appeared before them.
The entire space was filled with warm steam, and a faint scent of sulfur permeated the air—obviously drawn from the underground Natural Hot Spring of the Royal Capital.
The mist hung thick, dreamlike.
But what stunned Wendy the most was the wall directly opposite the bath.
It was an enormous, flawless Crystal, polished into a mirror.
It reflected everything in the bath, along with the water’s surface, in perfect clarity.
Every movement, every shiver of skin, was laid bare before this mirror.
Damn feudal royalty!
Rotten to the core!
Wendy cursed inwardly, but the corner of his mouth curled up uncontrollably.
…He loved this kind of decadence.
“Alright, my little designer.”
Astreia casually set the Prince on a soft rug beside the pool.
She herself stood before the massive Crystal Mirror, violet-black magic swirling like mist around her.
“Now, begin your performance.”
Wendy curled up on the rug, the cold gold chains on his body clinking softly with each breath.
He struggled to endure the shameful image reflected by the mirror, then lifted his head, his gaze becoming almost harsh as he began to direct his personal model.
“The neck should be covered with a high collar, completely hiding the collarbones and shoulders—like an ascetic priest.”
“Yes, like that, tighter…”
“The arms must have fitted long sleeves, and the cuffs must cover the wrists completely, not leaving a single gap.”
“And the legs! Use deep blue-violet stockings, the kind that don’t reflect light even under lamps, wrapping from the ankles all the way up to the thighs…”
“But! Leave the topmost part bare for now!”
Astreia manipulated the magic precisely, adjusting the “fabric” on her body according to the instructions, while examining herself in the mirror.
Her brows furrowed tighter and tighter.
What is this?
A complete waste!
Her proud long limbs, flat abdomen, and seductive collarbones—all were wrapped tightly in this oppressive fabric.
Instead, what was exposed were the “ugly” and “problematic” contours, having nothing to do with beauty or sensuality.
It looked like a ridiculous circus outfit.
“Wendy, are you sure?”
The Witch Queen’s patience was nearly exhausted.
“This has no beauty at all!”
“No.”
The Prince shook his head, rising slowly from the rug to stand barefoot on the cool marble, a fanatical light belonging to a deranged connoisseur appearing on his face.
“You’re wrong, Astreia.”
“Exposing everything is the lowest form of vulgarity, the kind of display only beasts make.”
“True art is restraint, a maddening flirtation at the edge of taboo, giving endless room for imagination.”
“If you must show, then show the parts that shouldn’t be shown.”
“If you must hide, then hide the curves that most invite curiosity.”
“Use the tightest lines to outline the ultimate sense of forbidden allure.”
Astreia listened, confused, but the flames within her burned hotter under this mad philosophy.
She no longer had the patience for this costume design game.
“Enough!”
The Witch Queen barked, turning around and striding over to Wendy in a few steps.
Her perfectly wrapped form, even more imposing because of its coverage, loomed over the Prince.
“I don’t care about art or imagination.”
“You—come here.”
“Adjust it yourself, to exactly how you want it.”
Wendy shuddered violently.
He instinctively wanted to back away, but his feet felt rooted to the spot.
Yes, why retreat?
This was exactly what he wanted.
The Prince stared at Astreia’s perfect form, made even more breathtaking by the deep blue fabric.
He swallowed hard.
Finally, as if making a momentous decision, he reached out with trembling hands.
When his fingertips touched the magic-made clothing, a strange, cool elasticity sent a shiver through him.
His hands shook violently, but with determination, he moved behind Astreia and found the two blue bands that should have been the waistband.
Then, using all his strength, he slowly pulled them upward, inch by inch.
The bands tightened, and tightened.
Until those two slender blue straps pressed into the Witch’s hips at their highest point.
Thus, the most mysterious and tantalizing contour, drawn impossibly tight, was exposed in a display of overwhelming visual impact.
An unbelievable, depraved work of art was born.
Perfect……………………….
Breath stopped in that instant.
The Prince’s fingers, uncontrollable, reached out as if bewitched, lightly and reverently tracing the shallow marks left by the blue strings.
At this moment, the Prince’s eyes were filled with intoxication, madness, and the immense satisfaction of having created a masterpiece.
“Astreia… you’re amazing.”
With each stroke of Wendy’s fingers, Astreia’s breathing grew heavier and hotter.
A surge of unprecedented, electrifying sensation, mingling shame and novelty, shot from the point of contact through her entire body, directly to her brain.
This was ten thousand times more stimulating than any previous skin contact!
She couldn’t endure it any longer!
With a sudden motion, the Witch seized the Prince—who was still sprawled on her lap admiring the “art”—and hurled him into the pool.
Splash—!
Water erupted everywhere.
The Witch Queen stood at the pool’s edge, gazing down imperiously at the Prince flailing in the water.
“Now…”
“It’s my turn to savor you, dear Prince~”
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