The stone floor groaned beneath Allen's feet as the hidden chamber yawned open like a mouth—humid air exhaling from within, thick with musk and something… older.
He stepped down, each footfall squelching as the floor gave slightly beneath him, as if the very temple itself had gone soft and wet in anticipation. Behind him followed a trail of cum-streaked, pleasure-drunk lizardfolk—priestesses with semen leaking down their thighs, guards with tongues still lolling, scholars covered in their own slick. And at the front of the procession, dragging himself with trembling limbs, was the former high priest, cum still leaking from his ruined ass.
The chamber pulsed with a low, wet heartbeat.
"Where the hell are we?" Allen muttered, eyes adjusting to the bioluminescent glow pulsing from the walls. They weren't made of stone anymore—these walls breathed. Veins throbbed beneath the surface like glowing vines, dripping fluid onto the fleshy floor.
