Iron stood before the gate, arms crossed, eyes studying the glowing engravings and the metallic edges pulsing with a faint energy.
The gate was massive—somewhat terrifying—but… just a gate. What could possibly make it "impossible"?
"I still don't get it…" he muttered softly, looking at the two giantesses. "You've been here for centuries, and you're nothing but a pair of horny gates. You're hot. Really hot. But nothing here feels impossible."
The blue one stepped forward, raised her long finger and pointed at him, then said in a slow, mocking tone:
"Your level… is two."
Then bit her lip, as if savoring her own sarcasm.
"And this dungeon? A+. Entry level starts at twenty… The other players didn't even dare come close. No one has entered in 400 years."
He flinched slightly, then a crooked smile crept over his face, as if he liked the sound of it.
"Four hundred years? That's a long time for you two to bang each other to boredom…" he added, glancing at the gate.
"But I'm not just any player."
He looked at the status screen that hadn't disappeared yet. At the strange line:
"Untamed Desire: Fulfilled"
Then at the lust stat that had exceeded 100, boiling inside him, burning him from within like a delicious poison that couldn't be resisted.
Logic was screaming:
You're an idiot.
You're level 2. You're going to die, get shredded, your blood turned into paint on the dungeon walls.
But… that gate? Behind it was an unspoken promise.
A promise that his damned system might finally make sense. That this "Extreme Lust" might finally explode into something… grand.
Or depraved.
Or both.
"A chance like this can't be missed…" he whispered to himself, closing his eyes as if convincing his inner demon.
"I'm a pervert… but a pervert with dignity!"
Then he murmured with a crooked grin as he opened his eyes:
"And I won't lie to myself anymore… I'm not after power, nor glory, not even survival."
He looked straight at the silver half-giantess's body, his eyes glowing with desire no longer hiding.
"All I want right now… is to fuck a hot half-giantess. That's the truth."
Then he suddenly screamed, eyes wide open:
"To hell with logic!"
And pointed at the gate.
"Spread your legs—I mean, open the way, you kinky gate!"
The silver one laughed deeply before tilting her head and saying:
"Then let your desire burn… and enter."
Slowly, the gate began to crack open, a purple aura rising from it like hot steam...
The moment he crossed the threshold, it was as if the world itself rejected him.
The gate behind him vanished with unnatural calm—no sound, no echo—as if erasing him from the record of those who had entered.
Nothing remained but still darkness… and shadows closing like the lips of a woman tired of waiting.
He first felt something being pulled from his body.
His clothes? No, they were already torn. This time, it was as if a deeper layer of skin was being peeled off.
He looked at himself. Completely naked. No weapon, no armor, not even the illusion of protection.
Just his skin… and his erect member, utterly unprepared for the suffocating atmosphere.
Then he saw the corridor.
It was long… but not in any measurable way.
It was long in a slow, creeping, organic sense.
Its walls were twisted, fleshy to the touch, soft ripples at first, then narrower… warmer. Every few meters, the walls opened and closed slowly, as if breathing, or longing to be filled.
"What is this…" he whispered, then chuckled—a short, sarcastic, slightly insane laugh.
"A dungeon or a giant vagina? Is this an organic miracle or an advanced vaginal disease?"
Then the notification appeared:
[Welcome to the First Corridor of the A+ Dungeon]
[Objective: Reach the end to unlock the first floor.]
[No way back.]
[Warning: This corridor is designed to crush your desire before testing your body.]
[Note: Desire fluctuations will affect your strength stats and mental resistance.]
[Current State:]
Lust: 89/120 (Rapid Decline)
Erection: Slight Weakening
"Great… even my erection has a stat bar now."
He took a step, and the corridor floor emitted a suspicious squelch. Not blood. Not water… but something warmer. Thicker.
Each step made a faint noise, as if his foot pierced a soft membrane trying to cling to him.
The mist in the air wasn't ordinary. Not steam… but something heavier, electric, pulling his soul from between his legs.
The humidity stripped him of semen, not sweat.
Even his breathing grew heavy, tinged with something resembling desire—no, resembling the loss of desire.
"This isn't sweat…" he wiped his chest and found a pale, sticky fluid covering his fingers.
He stepped back, but heard no sound from the gate. No return path.
"Is this… semen? Impossible… I haven't even ejaculated!" he said, staring at his fingers, then his body, then the corridor itself.
Every pulse in the wall, every soft throb, pulled something from him.
His member, which rose at the sight of the giantesses, began to shrink, wilt, as if ashamed… or drained.
"Shit…" he muttered, massaging his testicles.
"Don't fail me now. I can't be crushed before even reaching the first stage."
He took a deep breath and shouted into the fog:
"Is this a dungeon or a sadistic brothel? Who designed this, a horny monk or a torture AI?"
No one answered. Just the walls… opening and closing, emitting faint sounds like feminine whispers exhaling into his ear.
Every few meters, the walls would suddenly tighten and release, making a suction sound… a sound that made his nerves scream, his heart pound… even as his cock weakened.
"Damn… even my emotions are separating from my arousal. My mind wants to rise, but my body retreats. Is this… a psychological battle?"
He paused, hands on his knees, breathing heavily.
"Shit… maybe this is the test. Not a race, not a sword fight… but a slow crushing of whatever makes me 'me'."
Yet something in his chest kept whispering:
"If you reach the end… you will be rewarded."
So he smiled again, lifted his head.
"You devil… you know how to tempt a pervert like me."
His steps grew heavier. Time lost meaning in the winding corridor, slithering like the intestines of some enormous creature. Five minutes? Ten? An hour? A day?
Each step met a wet sound, soft suction, feminine breath from the walls—as if the entire corridor was a woman panting at him, not for him… panting to drain him to death.
Then… the first alert:
[Lust: 76/120]
[Decline: -13% in 4 minutes]
[Warning: Ongoing decrease will lead to general physical weakness]
"Fuck…"
His voice was hoarse, dry, like shouting into the bottom of a dark well.
He wiped his forehead; the pale, sticky fluid still dripped from him—from his chest, thighs, nowhere.
"What is this nonsense…?!" he screamed. His cry echoed through the corridor like a muffled woman's laugh.
He walked, then crawled, then dragged his feet like a man trudging through the mud of regret.
[Lust: 63/120]
[Additional decline: -10%]
[Mental state: Mild instability. Value collapse: 4%]
He stopped. Trembled.
"This is my second life? People get reincarnated on soft beds, surrounded by nuns and angels, swords calling them, systems worshipping them…"
He knelt, bit his lip, then pounded the floor with his fist.
"And me? I wake up in a moaning field, naked, beside a monster trying to rape me… with a sexual system treating me like a walking scrotum?!"
He laughed… then cried… then choked himself to stop the tears.
"All I ever wanted… all I ever dreamed… was just to have sex. Just to be touched… like other humans. Even cockroaches get it. Dogs… monkeys. Why not me?!"
His words echoed through the corridor walls… then faded, like his desire.
"I need to get hard… I need to show them I still have it."
He closed his eyes.
Imagined Zara, her shining gray curves, how her body might tremble under him, whispering his name for the first time.
Imagined the giantesses, his member begging for them, climbing their hills, buried in their breasts, their thighs…
His cock stirred. Just a little. As if wanting life again… but something was choking it.
[Lust: 59/120]
[Weak response. Simulation unstable]
Then… she came.
Elisa.
The last woman to ever give him an erection in his previous life. A hot MILF with features that drove him mad. Her black hair, seductive body, eyes full of secrets. He imagined her now in the misty corridor… naked before him.
His body responded to the vision, pulsed with desire, as if she were truly there, ready to fill his emptiness and return his lost feeling.
Then… something unexpected.
He saw her on top of another man, moving on him, moaning and whispering his name. His mind rejected it, but his eyes caught the detail… Tiago? His friend? No… impossible!
"Tiago?!" he screamed, but his throat swallowed the sound.
He had imagined her a queen in his arms… now she was a queen for someone else. Touching him with smoother motion, more rhythm.
"You? Tiago?!" he gasped, eyes tearful, heart choking.
"I thought we were friends… how?"
Elisa laughed, panting, kept moving, never glancing back.
"Did you really think I wanted your body? Poor boy… you were just a toy. A joke."
Tiago laughed too, floating through the scene as if it meant nothing.
"You don't even know how to be a man. How to feel human… how to get hard. How to be used."
The shock felt like a slap.
He looked Tiago in the face—unrecognizable in this context.
"Shut up…" he whispered, choked. "Please… this isn't real… it's just a nightmare."
But the image was vivid, real, breaking his bones.
His pain was too much… and every time he imagined pleasure, this vision crashed into it, shattered it, and drowned him deeper.
Then… another image.
His mother.
There, in the corner, swallowing smoke like swallowing her own life, sitting bare-chested under a torn gray blanket.
She said nothing. Didn't look at him.
He was the one who spoke… from inside.
"I wish you'd aborted me, Mom… even with a rusty shard of glass… even if you died after. You would've been free… and I would've rested."
A strange man exited the room, zipping up his pants, gave him a slimy look, spat to the side… and left.
A voice from his small memory returned.
Night whispers… laughter… the squeak of a bed directly above him… and a bottle falling beside him.
He'd bury his head in the pillow… pretend to sleep… but his body was listening… wetting… trembling.
"Why did you open the door to every man in the neighborhood?"
"Were you calling them in to bury me under them?"
[Lust: 28/120]
[Arousal levels collapsing…]
His manhood cracked from within.
He felt his cock shrink, wither.
His heat was gone.
His desire, which had filled his body moments ago, vanished as if it never existed.
"I just wanted to be a man… I've never even touched a woman… even my fantasies punish me."
"Was I just a curse? A stain? A glitch born from some sexual accident?"
[Lust: 11/120]
[Masculinity levels in severe collapse]
[Brain has ceased dopamine release]
He wanted to scream. Explode. Smash his head against the wall.
But he didn't even have the will to hate anymore.
The system's voice came, dry, toneless, like reading an electronic death report:
[Psychological death registered.]
[Lust: 0%. No recovery possible.]
[Failure to pass the first masculine trial.]
Result: Total collapse.
Status… Dead.