The Lecture of Lewds

The Bounce-shaped portal closed with a seductive pop, like a bubble of lust bursting in sacred slow motion.

And Henry…

Well, Henry was not ready.

Not for what lay beyond.

He landed—no, softly sank—into a silken floor that pulsed gently, like the inside of a sacred pillow. The air was thick with perfume and whispered sighs. Every breath he took tasted like cherry-stained lips and bedtime regrets.

He looked around.

The Forbidden Bounce Library was not a library.

Not in the boring "books on dusty shelves" sense.

No.

It was a cathedral of curves. Endless velvet corridors. Glowing scrolls floating mid-air like lazy, drunk fireflies. Every pillar was carved like a goddess mid-gasm. Every ceiling painted with lewd masterpieces that would get censored in seven kingdoms and a half.

Henry took one step—and the floor moaned softly beneath his bare foot.

"Oh," he muttered, looking down. "Interactive tiles."