NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Unleashing the Monster

“Mmm~ your lips are so fucking delicious, Mommy.”

Artis said, nibbling on Juliana’s lower lip like it was a gourmet snack.

Her face flushed crimson, both from his shameless words and the fact that her husband—her actual fucking husband—looked like a kid on Christmas morning unwrapping the best present ever.

“T-that’s enough, right?”

She stammered, pressing her hands against Artis’s chest as if trying to create some semblance of decency.

“Yeah, that’s enough… for now.”

Artis replied with a cocky smirk, leaning back in his cushion like he owned the place. His nonchalant attitude made her want to slap him—or maybe kiss him again. It was getting confusing.

Juliana pulled back, trying to collect herself as she settled onto her cushion. She side-eyed Lui, expecting outrage, jealousy, or at least a frown. But no.

The man was grinning like a jackass, his eyes glued to her like he’d just won a free subscription to the premium section of life.

Her gaze dropped lower, and there it was: a visible bulge in his pants, standing at awkward attention.

‘Oh my fucking god. He’s actually enjoying this?’

She thought, her mind spinning faster than Artis’s earlier bottle.

‘Am I the only one here acting like a goddamn adult while these two are living their best lives?’

She let out a sigh, her initial embarrassment morphing into determination.

‘Fine. If this is the game we’re playing, then I’m fucking playing too. You want a show? Let’s make it unforgettable.’

Juliana straightened up, took a deep breath, and smiled.

‘Time to see who really has the upper hand here.’

Even if she didn’t view Lui as her proper husband—hell, he barely qualified as a roommate—Juliana still believed in basic respect.

Sure, her body was practically screaming for Artis to pin her down and make her see stars, but she didn’t want to outright disrespect Lui. She wasn’t that heartless.

It wasn’t love keeping her tethered to this pathetic excuse of a marriage. It was more like…familiarity.

Like an old, slightly moldy couch that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw out because it’s been in the living room for decades.

Compassion, maybe? After all, they’d been together forever. And while those first few months of wedded bliss felt like ancient history, Lui was still technically her husband and her longest-running acquaintance—if nothing else.

But now? Watching him grinning like a kid who just found a hidden stash of dirty magazines, looking genuinely happy for once? That was a fucking plot twist.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen that man crack a genuine smile, let alone look like he was front-row at the sexiest circus act on earth.

It hit her then:

‘If he’s cool with this, why the fuck am I stressing?’

Her hesitation crumbled like a cheap cookie as a devious little grin tugged at her lips.

‘Well, if he’s not heartbroken and actually enjoying the show, why the hell not?’

Taking a deep breath, Juliana straightened her posture and reset her mindset. If this was the game they were playing, she was going all in.

While Artis and Lui were gearing up for another round, Juliana suddenly grabbed the empty bottle. Her movements were swift, like she was plotting world domination—but with more cleavage involved.

Both men paused, eyebrows raised, curiosity plastered across their faces. She didn’t say a single fucking word. They didn’t dare ask.

With a smirk that could rival a cartoon villain, Juliana spun the bottle. It wobbled pathetically, barely making a full revolution before coming to a clunky stop.

The neck pointed straight at Artis, while the flat end aimed squarely at her chest like a cosmic joke.

“Yes!”

Juliana’s triumphant cry echoed through the room as she threw her hands into the air, her boobs bouncing like they were personally celebrating her victory. Gravity, you kinky bastard.

“Yes, finally.”

She cackled, her giggles sounding like a discount cartoon villain’s evil laugh.

She turned her wicked gaze to Artis, who raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious.

Meanwhile, Lui leaned on the table, resting his chin on his palm, ready to enjoy the shitshow.

Juliana’s evil grin screamed mockery ahead, and Lui knew damn well she was cooking up something ridiculous to put Artis in his place.

Artis, however, wasn’t about to back down. He leaned forward, his gaze locking onto hers.

“Dare. I chose dare. Bring your best weapon.”

“Fine.”

Juliana’s voice was as calm as a nun at confession, but the glint in her eyes? Pure devilry.

She straightened her arm and shot a look at Lui, who suddenly frowned like he’d just realized he might have unleashed something way out of his league.

‘What the fuck is she plotting?’

Lui thought, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Strip,” she commanded, her tone so casual you’d think she was ordering takeout. “From the robe to your underwear. Everything.”

Artis froze, his eyes widening like saucers, while Lui tried and failed to suppress a grin, his lips twitching under the weight of his amusement.

“You guys have been making me do stupid shit all night, asking dumb-ass questions and giving me ridiculous dares. Now, I will have my reven—Eek!”

Juliana’s righteous monologue was cut short by the sight of Artis already towering over her like a goddamn Greek statue in motion.

He didn’t hesitate. His robe was halfway down his shoulders, revealing abs so defined they probably had their own postal code.

His chest glistened like a magazine cover model’s, and Juliana’s jaw hit the metaphorical floor.

“Wh-what the fuck?!”

She squeaked, her crossed arms instantly uncrossing as if surrendering to the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Meanwhile, Lui, who’d been half-listening to her dramatic speech, now mirrored her expression, his mouth agape as he watched Artis undress like this was some impromptu Chippendales audition.

“Shit, he’s actually doing it.”

Lui muttered under his breath, the thrill of the chaos overtaking his usual meekness.

“Wait! I didn’t mean right now, you horny fuck!”

Juliana shrieked, her hands flailing as if she could somehow swat his clothes back onto his body through sheer force of will.

Her jaw was still on a metaphorical vacation, utterly unable to comprehend the speed at which Artis had gone from clothed to Greek god in a porno audition.

Artis smirked, the smug bastard, and shrugged like this was just another Tuesday.

“Why not? You dared me, and I’m a man of action. Gotta deliver, babe.”

His tone was cocky enough to slap a billboard across his chest reading Confidence: Sponsored by Testosterone.

Then he stepped closer, just inches away, his smirk deepening. Juliana’s wide eyes darted downward involuntarily—her brain screaming DON’T LOOK while her curiosity muttered, But what if it’s…

Oh, it was.

The bulge in Artis’s lower half was so prominent it practically demanded its own round of applause.

Juliana’s cheeks turned redder than a lobster in a boiling pot, her mind suddenly filled with entirely inappropriate scenarios she had already dreamt about.

Meanwhile, Lui leaned forward like a kid at a movie theater, his eyes glued to the action.

‘Was it really as big as it looked? Could it be the same monster he’d been imagining in his most depraved fantasies? And holy fuck, how was Juliana going to handle it?’

The man was practically salivating at this point, his mind racing with so many inappropriate questions it was like his own personal version of Pornhub Live.

Then, with the dramatics of a magician revealing his final trick, Artis grabbed the knot behind his robe and untied it in one smooth, theatrical flourish.

As if on cue, his “raging dragon” escaped its cage like it had been held prisoner by the Geneva Conventions and landed smack in Juliana’s stunned face with a thud so loud it practically echoed.

Juliana gasped, her eyes widening to cartoonish proportions.

“Holy fuck!”

She squeaked, as if words were incapable of capturing the absurd majesty of what she was seeing. Every single time, whenever she sees this monster, this is her mind.

Lui, on the other hand, looked like he’d just witnessed the second coming of Jesus—except instead of loaves and fishes, it was a weapon of mass destruction made of flesh.

His jaw dropped so far it might as well have unhinged like a snake’s, and he gulped audibly, the room filled with the sound of pure existential crisis.

‘Bigger than mine… much bigger than mine’

Artis’s cock wasn’t just big—it was mythological.

The kind of size that could star in its own fantasy epic. Thick as hell, veined like a roadmap to Mount Olympus, and so massive it could double as a battering ram.

The angry red hue and the throbbing intensity made it seem like it was protesting its newfound freedom.

The play was about to become much dangerous and dangerous as it goes.

Now that every player is on board with the same idea, it was only a matter of some more bottle spinning until the monster was about to be plunging into someone’s little sister.