Exploration leads to needing that rescue.

Maeva’s fingers brushed the edge of a towering bookcase. It gave with a subtle click, and the shelf rotated smoothly on hidden hinges, revealing a shadowed alcove—a secret chamber crafted for more private indulgences.

The walls were lined with gleaming brass fixtures, velvet-padded brackets, and leather straps arranged like a ritual. A silk rope hung invitingly from a ceiling ring, cool and heavy in her palm.

As she grasped it, a glowing interface materialized midair, purring in soft tones:

"Would you like to be restrained?"

She smirked. “Yes.”

The room shifted with seamless VR magic.

A gentle **** guided her backward, arms lifted and secured by enchanted bonds that held firm without pain. Her legs were spread slightly, supported by silken tension, and beneath her—almost teasing in its subtlety—a rounded nub pressed between her thighs, set precisely where she was most sensitive.

At first, it was exquisite.

Every shift of her hips sent a ripple of pleasure through her. The stimulation was subtle, steady, coaxing her toward release but never quite letting her fall.

But minutes passed.

The friction grew sharper. The need intensified. Her breath hitched as her body fought the restraints, hips moving involuntarily, **** for more pressure, more contact—more. She was panting now, flushed, trembling.

The game had become a slow torment.

Eyes darting to the tower window, she saw only fire and steel—flashes of the knight locked in battle with the dragon. Still too far. Still not hers.

She whimpered, straining against her bonds. So close. But no release.

The simulation wouldn’t grant it.

Not until he arrived.

Not until she was rescued.