Reincarnated as an Evil Harem God

Around twenty minutes passed before the massive wooden hot tub reached the perfect temperature. It sat upstairs in a secluded bathhouse, tucked behind thick stone walls and heavy velvet curtains—invitation only. Most people in the city didn't even know it existed. Those who did? They knew better than to talk.

It was Klaus's private sanctuary. A place of steam and silence. Why the old man owned such a luxurious, hidden bathhouse was anyone's guess—but no one dared to ask. He never explained, and his eyes warned off curiosity better than any blade.

Still… rumors have a way of bubbling to the surface.

From time to time, people whispered of strange sounds drifting from the bathhouse late at night. Muffled moans. Soft gasps. Wet slaps. The rhythm of bodies moving in unison. The kind of noises that made wives blush and husbands glance away.

Whatever Klaus had built that place for, it clearly did more than just wash off dirt.

The old man had far more secrets than his kindly face let on.

"The bath is ready. The three of you may go in whenever you wish," Klaus said, his voice smooth, but his eyes gave Sylvaris a knowing, sneaky wink.

Sylvaris stood there, wrapped in a thick towel slung low around his hips. They'd been asked to wash themselves first with the buckets provided—just enough to rinse off the grime so the still water wouldn't turn filthy the moment they stepped in.

But the moment he saw them...

Two women walked past him, swathed in white towels barely clinging to their curves. The thin fabric hugged every dip and swell of their bodies. Damp strands of hair clung to their flushed skin. Liraeth's silver locks shimmered like moonlight on wet stone. Faylira's tails flicked lazily behind her, droplets gliding off the fur like falling jewels.

His cock twitched under the towel.

Somehow Liraeth had lost whatever private war she'd been fighting with Faylira. Or maybe she'd surrendered willingly. Either way, the two now held hands as they walked ahead, side by side like sisters... or co-conspirators. Their steps were synchronized. Their gazes unreadable.

Apparently, while washing up, the two had a quiet little conversation—one he hadn't been invited to. They'd come to some kind of agreement, some silent accord sealed behind soft whispers and subtle glances.

What it was?

He was about to find out.

Was it always this hot in here… or is it because of them?Sylvaris swallowed hard. His cock was swelling beneath the towel, the thick fabric doing little to conceal the growing pressure. It barely clung to his waist. One wrong movement and—

"Ahh, must be good, being so young..." Klaus gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder, sighing like a man lost in memory. Secretly crying with foreign joy.

I'll never forget how many girls we brought here, old friend… Klaus thought as he discreetly wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. Now your grandson's just like you… You'd be proud.He gave the trio one last approving glance, then gently closed the door behind him—making damn sure no one would disturb whatever ended up happening inside.

Liraeth stood there hesitating, clutching her towel like it was the last thread of modesty she had left. She'd already been fucked by Sylvaris several times over the last few days—but somehow, this felt different. It wasn't just about sex. It was vulnerable, intimate. The idea of stripping in front of him and bathing while dirty, after everything they'd been through—it made her heart pound and her chest tighten with a fragile sort of embarrassment.

Faylira, on the other hand, was suspiciously calm. Too calm.

From the moment the word bath was mentioned, she'd been plotting. Scheming. She'd waited patiently while washing, holding her cards close. And now, her fox tails flicked with hungry delight. Her plum lips glistened with moisture as she dragged her tongue slowly across them, casting a sultry glance at Sylvaris's barely-covered body. Her hips swayed like a slow, rhythmic dance. The smirk on her face said everything—she was ready to make her move.

The tub was massive, big enough for all three. Steam curled around their bodies like silk. And then, without a word, Faylira stepped forward.

Looking back over her shoulder, she let her towel slip.It hit the floor.

Her bare ass bounced into view, round and perfect, the tight muscle below it flexing as she moved. Sylvaris stared, frozen. Even Liraeth let out a soft gasp.

Then Faylira lifted one leg slowly, almost exaggeratedly high—exposing her pussy completely to him. Smooth. Bare. Gleaming slightly from the bathwater she'd splashed on herself earlier. She stepped into the tub with another long stride, the water lapping up her thighs and hissing against her skin like it couldn't get enough of her heat. It was hot—almost burning—but she savored it, groaning softly as she lowered herself in. Her breasts jiggled and bounced when she sat at the far end, ripples dancing across the surface like waves of lust.

Then she looked straight at Sylvaris, her voice velvet-wrapped sin.

"Are you two going to keep staring… or will you join me?"

Ah yes, nice one, Author. The classic setup—two beauties, one lucky bastard. So go on, how will you play your cards this time? Because mine are already on the table… and I won't stop until I ruin that creep's whole life.

But for now... let's see how this unfolds. After all, Sylvaris looks like he's one stray moan away from pouncing on those tits.

"Sylvaris, please… look here…"

Liraeth's voice came from the side—gentle, but laced with quiet challenge. When he turned, she stood there with her towel slipping from her fingers, her bare body illuminated by the golden bathhouse light. Her breasts—full, pale, and already flushed with warmth—rose as she breathed, pink nipples stiff and aching.

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with a need that wasn't just lust. It was deeper. Craving. Longing for his attention. His affection.

She reached for him without hesitation, taking his hand and guiding it straight to her chest. His fingers sank into the soft warmth of her breast, the tender flesh molding around him, sending a wave of heat up his arm and into his spine.

Her breath caught in her throat as she leaned in closer, her voice trembling, desperate—

"Will you please wash my body for me?"