Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1858: Slayer Fit Queen Shea

Villain Ch 1858. Slayer Fit Queen Shea

Jane said, “Let’s start with him.”

Alice grinned. “Perfect. Allen, draw your fate.”

He reached for the card stack, lifted the top card—

Read it.

Then blinked.

“’You are the obedient servant. Someone will issue a command. You have to obey until the timer ends.’”

Vivian choked.

Zoe slapped a hand over her mouth.

Jane dropped the die from laughing too hard.

Allen looked up, mouth still clean, tone even.

“Okay. Who’s giving the command?”

Alice rolled the die.

It landed on a 5.

“Five minutes,” she said. Then paused…

And pointed.

“Shea. Go.”

Shea blinked. “Me?”

“Yes. You’re the command giver.”

The energy in the room shifted.

Fast.

Hard.

Tense.

Shea looked at Allen.

Allen looked back.

And then—he got on his knees.

Calm. Still smiling. Arms resting on his thighs.

“Ready, Mistress?” he asked, voice low.

Every girl in the room made a sound.

Some gasped.

Some whimpered.

Azura actually hid her face behind a cushion, her whole body curling like her soul had just left for a safer timeline.

Shea’s brain completely short-circuited.

For half a second, she was just staring.

Mouth slightly open.

Whip limp in her hand.

Because Allen?

On his knees, shirt hanging off one shoulder, legs spread slightly, those eyes soft and looking up at her?

It wasn’t fair.

It was criminal.

But then she blinked.

Straightened.

No more hesitation.

She was Slayer Fit Queen Shea, damn it.

And tonight? She was Mistress.

“Fine,” she said, clearing her throat and trying to ignore how dry it suddenly felt. “First command…”

She raised her chin.

“Strip.”

The air cracked like she’d thrown a lightning bolt into the middle of the room.

Allen blinked. “Oh. Straight to the point.”

She pinched his cheek—firm and fast. “No talk back, servant.”

He gave her that smirk.

That calm, not-really-smirking smile that just knew too much.

Then nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

He stood.

And started peeling off his clothes.

One button at a time.

Not rushed.

Not nervous.

Not awkward.

It was clinical. Controlled.

The shirt slid from his shoulders, exposing skin that smelled faintly of soap and citrus. Warmed from his shower. Glowing under the living room lights. His abs flexed subtly with each movement—quiet strength, not flaunting. Just there.

Then the pants.

A slow unbuckle. A zip.

He stepped out of them, folding each piece and setting them aside like a good little servant.

And then there he was.

Bare.

Unashamed.

Allen Goldborne—naked in the center of a room full of women trying desperately not to combust.

The girls…

Lost all composure.

Vivian’s hand flew to her mouth.

Zoe grabbed a throw pillow and screamed into it.

Bella’s fork dropped on the floor and she didn’t even notice.

Larissa quietly muttered, “I need prayer.”

Jane blinked, once, and muttered, “He’s not breaking.”

Alice was frozen, hands gripping her thighs.

Azura?

Fully hiding. Blanket over head. Gone.

But Allen…

Didn’t break.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blush.

He stood there, breath calm, chest rising slowly. His eyes locked on Shea’s.

Waiting.

“Your move,” he said.

Voice low.

Almost challenging.

Shea swallowed hard.

Palmed the whip handle.

Not a real one. Just the soft prop one Alice included in the game box for cosplay. Still had weight. Still felt like power.

She stood. Walked a slow circle around him.

Her bare feet brushed the rug. The air smelled like chocolate, perfume, and Allen’s skin.

She cracked the whip against her palm and stepped close.

“You’re supposed to be embarrassed,” she whispered.

Allen looked up at her. Eyes soft.

Lips parted just enough to show breath.

But he didn’t hide.

Didn’t cover himself.

“I’m obeying,” he said simply. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Shea’s fingers twitched.

She leaned down.

Dragged the whip handle along his collarbone.

Down his chest.

Across his stomach.

His muscles tensed—slightly.

Good.

She let the leather fall lower.

Much lower.

Just brushing… enough.

She heard his breath hitch.

Not much. Just a little.

But he didn’t pull away.

If anything—

He leaned into it.

“Where’s the shame, huh?” she teased. “You’re supposed to squirm a little. Pretend to be innocent.”

He smiled.

Slow.

Unholy.

“I’m just doing what I’m told.”

Then he opened his mouth—

And let out the softest, most perfect groan as the leather dragged down his thigh.

The girls exploded.

Zoe fell backwards off the couch.

Vivian was fanning herself with the game box.

Alice was squeaking like a malfunctioning anime girl.

Bella was covering her face with her hands but peeking between her fingers.

Larissa poured wine into her mouth like it was holy water.

Jane whispered, “We’re doomed.”

And Azura was still behind the blanket, repeating, “This is not happening. This is not happening.”

Shea stepped back, staring at him.

“You… like this.”

Allen tilted his head.

That innocent calm back.

“I’m following orders.”

Shea’s knees were shaking.

Jane muttered, “He’s not submissive. He’s roleplaying submissive while dominating the entire room.”

Alice whispered, “He’s the final boss pretending to be a mini-boss.”

Allen stayed kneeling.

Breathing steady.

Skin flushed but not flustered.

And then—he looked at Shea again.

Soft. Sweet.

“What next, Mistress?”

Shea couldn’t answer.

Not because she didn’t have an idea.

Oh, she had ideas.

But the look on his face?

That knowing gaze?

It made her feel like she was being played.

Like Allen knew exactly what effect he had.

And he was letting them think they were in charge.

The timer on the game clicked.

Session over.

Allen stood. Calm. Still naked.

He bowed slightly to Shea.

“Thank you for the command.”

Shea collapsed onto the couch.

Jane reached over and handed her a drink without a word.

She drank it like medicine.

“Okay,” Alice whispered. “That’s hot.”

Everyone looked up.

Azura peeked from the blanket.

“Can I go home?”

Vivian laughed, breathless. “Nope. You’re stuck here like the rest of us.”

Allen?

Already pulling on his pants.

Looking back once.

Still smiling.

Still calm.

And the look in his eyes said what none of them wanted to admit.

They thought they were the predators.

But Allen?

Allen had just become the game master.