He welcomes them in

He was a large humanoid cat with sleek dark fur that gleamed under the lights. His blue outfit, rich velvet trimmed in gold, hung open at the chest, revealing a lean but powerful frame. One leg was crossed lazily over the other as he sipped from a delicate porcelain teacup. His slitted blue eyes watched them with open amusement, tail flicking slowly behind the throne. A cruel, childish grin played across his feline muzzle.

The throne was surrounded by women frozen in humiliating poses just like Genevive. Golden statues, all of them, naked or half-dressed, squatting with legs spread wide, backs arched, faces locked in perfect ahegao expressions. Mouths hanging open, tongues lolling, eyes rolled back. Some had hands frozen mid-grope on their own bodies. Others were caught reaching desperately toward something only they could see. Their golden forms reflected endlessly in the mirrors, turning the throne room into a gallery of degradation.

Chell’s gaze darted around quickly. All five of them were still together, though none of them were the same as when they had entered.

Dheris was still on all fours a few paces away, naked and collared. The golden statue of Genevive lay on its side where it had been dropped during the teleport, frozen forever in that bent-over, tongue-out squat. Elizabeth stood giggling to herself, she kept posing for her floating orbs, giving little spins and blowing kisses while pink spirals spun lazily in her eyes.

And then there was Roisin.

The transformed tiefling had already dropped to one knee in front of the throne, grey skin gleaming, black leather outfit creaking as she bowed her head in clear reverence. Her red eyes glowed brighter as she looked up at the cat with open adoration.

“My lord,” Roisin said, her voice still slow and proper even now, though it carried a new husky edge. “I brewed that tea especially for you. Did you enjoy it? I made sure to add just the right touches to make it… memorable.”

She stayed bowed, tail curling submissively behind her, waiting for his response like a loyal servant who had finally found her true master.

The dungeon master took another slow sip of tea, eyes sliding over each of them in turn, lingering on Dheris’s raised ass, on Elizabeth’s bare body and spinning pigtails, on the golden Genevive, and finally settling on the still-kneeling Roisin with clear delight.

Chell remained on the floor, heart hammering, unable to look away from the cat on the throne. The mirrors showed her every angle of their humiliation at once. There was nowhere to hide.

The master lowered his teacup, licked a drop from his whiskers and let out a soft, childish chuckle that echoed through the endless reflections.

“Well, well,” he purred. “The Eternal Golden guild finally made it to the end. How delightful.”

His gaze flicked back to Roisin, grin widening.

“As for the tea… I must say, it had quite the kick.”