NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 93

Chapter 93: A Simple Game!

Another thought spiraled through Lui’s booze-starved brain, one so horrifyingly vivid it made him shudder like a virgin on his wedding night.

Just yesterday, during his latest hallucinatory bender, he’d witnessed something his sober self would never dare conjure.

Images of this guy—Artis, fucking goddamn step son Artis—bending his wife over, her naked tits swaying like pendulums, filled his head.

Her moans, her flushed face, the obscene bounce of her boobs—it was all seared into his mind. And then the cherry on this grotesque cake: his wife gagging and choking on Artis’s cock like she was auditioning for a job in hell’s dirtiest cabaret.

The sounds. Oh, fuck, the sounds! Wet, sloppy, gag-inducing noises that somehow vibrated right through his skull and down to his own cock.

His pants twitched traitorously, reminding him of just how thoroughly his brain had betrayed him.

“Lui, I asked you a question. Answer me now.”

Artis’s commanding voice cut through the porno-reel from hell, snapping Lui back to reality.

“I-I trust you…”

Lui croaked, his face as red as a cheap brothel’s curtains.

Artis gave a slow, smug nod, like a cat toying with a mouse that had already given up.

“Drink up, then. It’ll be okay. No one will hurt you or your family.”

“T-thank you… thank you…”

Lui stammered, tears of gratitude and pure mental exhaustion spilling down his cheeks. He reached for the glass with trembling hands, lifting it like it was the Holy Grail.

Without hesitation, he downed the golden liquid in one go, the burn in his throat a cruel reminder of the high he’d been denied for so long. But fuck, it was only a gulp.

Barely a tease of alcohol, but it was enough to make his heart race like he’d just been handed the keys to heaven.

The first drop hit Lui’s throat, and holy fuck, it was like angels had decided to jizz liquid gold straight into his soul.

That cool, sweet, fruity burn slid down so smoothly it was practically foreplay for his taste buds.

He could feel it—actually feel it—rolling down his throat like a luxury car cruising on a freshly paved road, leaving a trail of pure, unadulterated bliss in its wake.

It was like being reborn. No, scratch that—it was like having the best orgasm of his life, but in his mouth. And just like that, Lui, pathetic sack of nerves that he was, transformed into a man possessed.

“M-more. MORE!”

He shouted, eyes wild and feverish, like an addict who’d just found a lifetime supply of his drug of choice.

The fuzzy haze of euphoria took over, drowning out all rational thought. Fuck shame, fuck paranoia—he was alive again.

He snatched up the second glass and downed it like a madman at a free booze buffet. One gulp. Gone. He didn’t even stop to savor it this time.

The third glass followed, vanishing just as quickly. When he slammed it down on the table, the sound echoed like a victory gong.

He was panting, his chest heaving like he’d just fucked his way through an entire brothel. The color returned to his cheeks, and for the first time in a week, he didn’t look like a ghost haunting his own shitty life.

Confidence surging, Lui grabbed the edge of his grimy, sweat-stained blanket and flung it aside, standing up like a gladiator ready to claim his prize.

Unfortunately, the sight beneath was less heroic—a pair of pants that hadn’t been washed since the last eclipse and a shirt clinging to him like a desperate ex.

But to Lui? He was a goddamn king now, booze flowing through his veins and fear shoved firmly into the backseat.

‘Oh, his vitals are back in the positives, huh? Good for him. Too bad I’m about to fuck it all up.’

Artis thought, cracking his neck like he was about to step into a wrestling ring.

The timing couldn’t have been better because Juliana walked in, holding an empty bottle like it was a peace offering—or maybe a weapon, depending on how this little game played out.

She locked the door behind her, her movements hesitant as she approached Artis, bottle clutched tightly.

Artis smiled, that kind of shit-eating grin that screamed, Oh, you’re about to regret this, and reached out to take the bottle.

His fingers brushed against hers in a deliberate, teasing drag, like he was carving circles of chaos into her skin.

Juliana pulled her hand back like she’d been zapped, her cheeks flushing pink, but she said nothing.

“Sit.”

He said, pointing to the left side of the table like a lord addressing his new concubine.

Without a word, Juliana flopped down into the seat, her gaze falling on her husband.

At first, she didn’t think much of it, but then… the weird look on his face hit her. His eyes—those wild, manic eyes—were still there, but now there was something else: shame?

He wasn’t looking at her; no, he was avoiding her like she was the plague.

What, was he still embarrassed about the knight who tried to fuck her? That mess was definitely his fault. She mentally rolled her eyes, but then something caught her attention.

A faint red flush on his face. The kind that you only get when you’re caught doing something you know you shouldn’t, but also kinda want to. Her brow furrowed.

‘What the hell was that all about?’

“Anyway.”

Artis said, clapping his hands together with a grin that was equal parts charming and devilish.

“Now that Lui’s little hallucination is over and he’s back to being semi-human, let’s play a game. Like a family.”

Artis said with a smile as he began to rearranged the contents of the table.

The word “hallucination” hit Lui like a slap, and he stiffened in his chair, his mind immediately spiraling back to the previous day. His face turned a shade of red that could rival a tomato left out in the sun.

Meanwhile, Juliana’s cheeks lit up like twin fireworks as her thoughts wandered back to last day—to the moment Artis had shoved his cock down her throat while her dear, clueless husband was sitting right fucking there, his glassy eyes darting to her face every so often like he was trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

Juliana had been too consumed by the, uh, task at hand to notice, but Artis sure as hell hadn’t missed it. Oh, no.

He’d clocked the way Lui kept sneaking peeks at his wife, his face caught somewhere between confusion and arousal, like he was rewriting his mental porn catalog in real time.

But now? Now it was game time. Artis casually wiped down the glasses in front of them, making a show of it. He wasn’t about to drink from anything Lui had slobbered on.

Who the fuck wanted sick-man spit ruining their booze? That was disgusting. Hell, it was borderline criminal. Then he placed each glass towards Lui and Juliana and one in front of him.

Still, neither of them seemed to notice his little act of germaphobic defiance.

They were both too busy drowning in their own spiraling thoughts. Juliana was likely replaying the sound of her own gagging, and Lui?

Oh, Lui was probably having an internal meltdown over the things he thought he saw—or maybe the things he wished he’d seen.

Artis placed the empty bottle in the middle of the table with a dramatic flourish, letting it spin slightly before settling.

Then, like a king preparing for war, he slid the alcohol bottle within arm’s reach.

“Wh-what is this game you’re talking about, little Art?”

Juliana finally broke the silence, her voice soft but tinged with curiosity—and maybe a little apprehension. She knew this man too well. Nothing he suggested was ever innocent.

Artis turned his gaze to her, his smile playful, almost predatory.

“Just a simple game, Mommy. It’s called Truth or Dare.”

Both Lui and Juliana blinked at him, their eyes fixed on his every move as if he were unveiling the meaning of life—or, more likely, the gateway to their collective doom.

“I’ll spin this empty bottle….”

Artis explained, giving it a lazy nudge with his fingers.

“…and whoever the head of the bottle points to gets to choose: truth or dare. Meanwhile, the flat side points to the person who gets to fuck with them—you know, give them the question or dare. Easy, right?”

Juliana and Lui nodded, their concentration so intense it was almost comical.

“But wait…”

Juliana interjected, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. She knew damn well that nothing about Artis was ever straightforward.

“What are the rules for the dares and questions?”

Artis chuckled, the sound low and mischievous.

“Rules? No rules, Jul.”

He tilted his head, letting the weight of his words hang in the air.

“Whatever you want to ask, whatever you want to dare. No limits.”

Juliana’s lips parted slightly, her expression torn between intrigue and alarm.

“What… does that mean?” she murmured, her voice a little shaky.

That’s when Lui, who had been silent for most of the exchange, finally found his voice.

“Yeah, what does that mean exactly?”

He asked, his words coming out slower than usual, like his brain was still rebooting.