Henry floated in the galaxy's fluffiest bubble bath, butt-naked and emotionally unstable.
Climaxa—the literal Goddess of Orgasms—was behind him, kneading his shoulders with fingers made of starbursts and sin. Her touch felt like every dirty dream he'd ever had got a PhD in seduction.
"Relax, Henry," she purred. "The universe is slippery when tense."
Henry tried to focus. But it was hard. Very hard. And so was he.
"I just wanted a nap," he mumbled, trying not to stare at Climaxa's gravity-defying chest, which bounced like twin galaxies caught in a low-gravity twerk.
She leaned close, lips brushing his ear. "You deserve more than naps. You deserve… release."
Henry gulped. "I feel like I'm in a hentai that forgot the plot."
Climaxa giggled. "You are the plot."
Then, she snapped her fingers.
SPLASH!
The bathwater exploded into stardust, and Henry found himself lying on a floating bed made of orgasms. Yes, actual orgasms. Every time he moved, the mattress moaned softly.
"Oh no," he whispered. "Even the furniture wants me."
Climaxa walked in wearing a robe made of orgasms too. It flowed around her like liquid pleasure, leaving nothing to the imagination and everything to the libido.
"You've awakened something dangerous, Henry," she said, standing over him. "The Sisterhood of Endless Heat won't stop. They'll keep coming—literally and metaphorically."
Henry peeked under the covers. "I think I might too."
"But I'm here to teach you control," she said, raising a glowing whip made of cosmic kinks. "Lesson one: Survive the Divine Drizzle."
"Wait—what now—"
CRACK!
The whip lashed through the air, summoning a storm of cosmic showers that drenched Henry in liquid desire. His body twitched like a broken vibrator. He moaned like a man possessed by every OnlyFans model in the multiverse.
Climaxa laughed like a goddess who's seen too much hentai and not enough therapy. "Let's begin your climax training."
**
MEANWHILE, IN THE MORTAL REALM…
Seraphina stood on a cliff, wind whipping her hair, sword clenched tight.
"We're getting him back," she growled.
Moistessa slid next to her, covered in battle lube. "Agreed. No man gets snatched mid-orgasm without consequences."
Thrustina Tinkerfizz adjusted her exploding bra. "My gadgets are ready. I've built a rocket powered by kinks and daddy issues."
Seraphina smirked. "We're breaking into the heavens."
They climbed aboard Thrustina's war machine—a vibrating jet shaped like a massive banana—and launched toward the stars with the speed of a climax denied.
**
BACK IN THE COSMIC SPA OF SIN…
Henry had just finished surviving his third round of "Orgasm Yoga" (mostly just writhing and moaning on a mat made of moans), when Climaxa offered him a towel that suspiciously whispered, "You're delicious."
He curled into a fetal position. "I miss pants."
Climaxa floated above him. "You must choose, Henry. Stay with me in eternal pleasure... or return to your harem of chaos and clingy combat."
He blinked. "Is that even a question? My harem is INSANE."
"And yet…" Climaxa hovered closer. "You miss them."
He sighed. "Yeah… I miss Seraphina's death threats. Moistessa's weird kinks. Thrustina's gadgets that always explode too soon. They're my emotional damage. My beautiful disasters."
Climaxa nodded. "Then it is time… to return."
But just as she waved her hand to teleport him, a BOOM tore through the sky.
The orgasm-clouds parted.
And from above descended… the war-banana.
**
"EVERYONE DROP YOUR DICKS!" Seraphina roared, crashing through the ceiling in slow motion, her thighs sparkling with righteous fury.
Henry blinked. "Mommy?"
"No!" she yelled, then paused. "Okay maybe. But I'm MAD!"
Moistessa landed in a puddle of cosmic lube and slid across the floor like a sexy slip-n-slide.
Thrustina somersaulted in, launching sticky bombs that exploded in wet, cartoon moans.
Climaxa raised her hand. "I see your chaos arrives."
Seraphina pointed her sword at her. "Give us back our disaster of a man!"
Henry sat up on the orgasm-mattress. "Hey. Still here. Still naked."
Moistessa threw him pants. "Put those on before the furniture seduces you again."
"I tried! The pillow bit me!"
Climaxa sighed, slowly backing away. "He's yours. But beware. You're not the only ones hunting him…"
The sky darkened. A new portal ripped open.
A voice echoed through time and lust.
"I smell testosterone…"
A massive boot stomped down.
A woman covered in armor made of bedposts and bras stepped out.
Her eyes glowed with lust and rage.
"I am Mistress Matronica, ruler of the Forbidden Faplands," she growled. "Henry is mine."
Seraphina screamed, "OH COME ON!"
Moistessa gasped. "She's the head of the Mastur-Matriarchy!"
Thrustina's eyes widened. "They say she once edge-trained a dragon to death."
Henry fainted.
**